Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [193]
There was nothing she could do except turn her telescope toward the mill, as if finding Severo among the movement of beasts, men, and equipment would warn him that several fields away the cane was on fire. When she first looked, there was nothing out of the ordinary near the beast-powered trapiche chico nor by the larger, steam-powered trapiche grande. But suddenly the bell clanged its insistent, unmistakable warning. Someone had seen the fire. The sound changed everything.
“Have them saddle my horse,” Ana ordered, and Conciencia flew inside, calling for Teo.
“You’re not going down there, señora?” Meri was shaking.
“Of course I must,” Ana said. “There will be injuries, burns, I have to take care of them—”
“Ay, señora, I should have told you!”
Ana stopped in her tracks. “Told me what?”
“Jacobo was talking about … ¿lo puedo decir? Rebellion. I heard him, señora. And he also said the words … the words ‘independence,’ ‘war’ against the españoles. I told him not to—”
“Our Jacobo?”
“Yes, that Jacobo, the man who fought the blanco when I was burned—”
Ana looked toward San Bernabé, then at the burning canebrakes. She hadn’t considered that whoever was setting the cane on fire could be one of her people. Her knees felt slack, but she wouldn’t show it, not especially to this girl whom she’d grasped from death’s fingers, whom she felt owed her, yes, owed her her life.
“Are you telling the truth, Meri? Do you know of others—”
“I only heard Jacobo say those words.”
“When?”
“A long time ago. Before Segundo was born. I should have told you then, but—”
“Yes, you should have.”
“Do I get my freedom, señora? The law says that if I tell, I get my papers—”
“You’re a de Fuentes, Meri,” Ana snapped. “You’ll have to ask el patrón.”
Conciencia returned to fasten Ana’s riding boots, followed by Gloria with the medicine chest. Teo and Paula appeared with a basket full of clean rags for dressings.
“Teo, you and Paula stay with Meri and Pepita,” Ana said. “Everyone else, down to the batey.”
The guard dogs in their pens were barking as if they understood there was a crisis. She ran into the bedroom and unlocked the cabinet where Severo kept the arms. She chose the rifle and made sure the action was clean and smooth. She’d practiced on the targets Severo had set up for her, and now appreciated how skill was a comfort in emergencies.
Pepita was startled to see Ana armed.
“¡Señora!”
“Don’t leave the house, and don’t leave Segundo alone.”
“A sus órdenes, señora,” Pepita said in a tiny voice.
Ana strode to the yard, loosed the dogs. They stayed near her, as Severo had trained them to do. The old men and women of El Destino had assembled near the path, shivering in the night air. She didn’t think they’d hurt her. Young men were the most likely to rebel, and they’d be in the fields. The elders waited for instructions. If any of them were part of a rebellion, they would have done something already.
“We need you all.” Ana spoke with as much authority as she could manage; she would not allow herself to panic. “From here it looks like there will be burns and injuries. Those of you who can’t fight the fire will transport victims and help in the infirmary.” They must believe it was an accidental fire. None but Ana, Conciencia, and Meri had seen the torches in different directions. The others shouldn’t suspect that one or more of them had rebelled. But she was more than aware of the eyes fixed on the rifle in her hands. She pretended it wasn’t there.
Conciencia led the way on her mule. Ana took one last look at the fire below, still spreading, but still, thankfully, mercifully, far from the mill and warehouses. She nosed Marigalante toward the path. A few men held lamps on notched sticks, the tenuous flames dancing