Several hundred people from all walks of life attended, something Hector had not expected since news of the meeting had circulated clandestinely. He was surprised to see how many of them appeared to be well-educated members of the middle class. But what really impressed him was the main speaker, Sebastian. When he talked everyone listened intently. He was so incredibly subtle. If Neravista himself had been there he would have heard the call for armed rebellion loud and clear but an inspection of the transcript would not have revealed a single direct reference to weapons or force.
The other sight that for Hector almost overshadowed the impression left by Sebastian was that of his daughter. Louisa stayed very much in the background, quite literally. Few people probably noticed her standing in a far corner. For the would-be revolutionary she stood out like a beacon. To Hector she was a vision sent from the gods.
Several months later there came another opportunity for Hector to visit Sebastian’s estate to hear him talk. On the journey Hector and his companions boldly discussed open revolt but by the time they arrived he could think of just one thing. From his place at the back of the meeting he searched in vain for Louisa. As Sebastian’s turn to address the gathering came, the young rebel’s expectations rose. When the proceedings came to an end and she had still not showed herself he asked a member of the household staff where Sebastian’s daughter was that day. She was away at school, he was told.
Hector was very disappointed, but on his way out of the house he happened to see a framed photograph of Louisa. The face that he had been longing to see for months was even more beautiful than he remembered. The picture sat on a dresser along with a hat and scarf that he recognised as those she had worn that first time he’d seen her. He glanced around to check that he was alone and without a second’s hesitation he wrapped the frame in the scarf, stuck it inside his coat and walked out.
Hector waited a long time before he saw Louisa in the flesh again. By the time the call to arms came and Sebastian had set up his first guerrilla encampment in the mountains she had already been sent away to America.
Hector’s enthusiasm brought him to Sebastian’s attention early on in the forming of the various rebel companies and he was given command of a special reconnaissance unit. The other companies soon came to rely on him for vital operational information and his reputation was born. He matured quickly into a fine, positive commander known for leading his men from the front. By the end of his second year he had been promoted to brigade commander in the ever-expanding rebel army that was by then receiving funding and supplies from America as well as secretly from private investors and governments in Mexico, Brazil, Argentina and other Latino countries. At the start of the third year of the campaign Sebastian formed the inner council and Hector was elected a member.
His experiences in those years altered Hector. He grew hardened in almost every way. And he was aware of it. Some called him callous, others were even less kind. But it was not until he once again saw Louisa that he realised there were parts of a man’s heart that could never change.
When Sebastian introduced his daughter to Hector he had to remind himself that she did not know him. He tried to act accordingly and, in particular, to prevent his desire for her from becoming obvious. When she shook his hand she looked into his eyes and said she remembered him from her father’s first address all those years ago before she had left for America. Hector was stunned. He had hardly taken his eyes off her that day and she had not so much as glanced in his direction. For her to remember him after all that time could mean only one thing.
His brigade was several hours’ ride from Sebastian’s encampment and it was weeks before he could find an excuse to make another visit. In that time he daydreamed about how their love would blossom. Yet when he did finally manage to visit Sebastian he found that Louisa was never alone. The only physical contact he ever had with her was when saying hello and goodbye, when he held her hand for longer than might have been considered polite.
But despite the lack of intimacy Hector believed there was a place in her heart for him. Whenever their gazes met, at dinner for instance, he could see a tenderness that he felt was more than just comradeship or respect for his rank. Bizarrely, and he could scarcely even admit it to himself, his desire for her was part of what pushed him obsessively towards the peace talks. He could never factor it into his calculations but there were many things that would change if the fighting ceased: one of the most important to him would be a more stable environment in which he could court her.
But as Hector held his arm across the door in front of Louisa that day the look she gave him filled him with dread for their relationship. ‘Don’t go, not like this,’ he begged.
‘I don’t have a choice, Hector,’ she said softly. ‘I’m Sebastian’s daughter. There’s still a choice for you, though.’
Hector had hoped deep down that she did not agree completely with her father and was merely being supportive out of family loyalty. He was shocked at how badly he had misjudged her. He lowered his arm and she left.
Hector listened to Louisa climb onto her horse and ride away. He felt a sudden chill.
The rhythmic sound of footsteps heading towards the hut brought him out of his reverie. Hector walked to the other end of the hut to await his next visitor.
Ventura stood in the doorway, wearing an all-knowing smirk. He was a short man, compact compared with Hector, sophisticated, well groomed and wearing a full-length tailored raincoat that tastefully matched the expensive riding suit beneath. His black moustache was a thin line in a 1930s style and he had an air of confidence and self-importance that came from his membership of the upper class. He was accompanied by several thuggish armed men, also in civilian clothes, who remained outside as he stepped into the hut and closed the door behind him.
‘I can’t say I’m inspired with confidence by that meeting,’ Ventura said, looking with distaste around the simple dwelling.
‘When Sebastian realises he is isolated he will reassess the situation,’ Hector said flatly.
‘I wonder if you know Sebastian as well as you think you do. You appear to have misjudged his daughter somewhat.’
Hector felt his anger rise but choked it back even though he could not hide it completely from his expression. ‘I have control of the council. That is the important thing.’
Ventura seemed pleased with his ability to rile Hector easily. ‘I’m not so sure. As long as Sebastian commands his brigade he remains a threat. He has a gift for bringing men round to his way of thinking.’
‘You talk as if you and I are on the same side. We are not, Ventura. Just remember that.’
‘Your ambitions confuse me, Hector. Surely we’re converging forces.’
‘Perhaps. But we all have to change - make compromises - if we are to achieve an understanding. That includes your boss Neravista. I don’t want peace at any price. Just remember that.’
‘Of course. And Neravista understands that too. But we can’t wait on your reassurances for ever. The lull in our military activities is purely to give you the time to take control. We are prepared to renew our offensive - and vigorously - if you fail. And what about these new weapons that Sebastian has just received? They do not help matters. Some of my colleagues think you are merely playing for time in order to consolidate and rearm.’
‘The arrival of the weapons at Sebastian’s camp is your fault as much as anyone’s. The Americans know our position but you were too slow in making them aware of yours.’
‘They know it now. But they have the luxury of being in a position to play all sides until they have what they want. We believe we can satisfy their demands.’