Winiktón extricated himself from Ulloa’s clutches and went to mingle with the others. He tried to make himself heard, but in vain. They were excited and unafraid. What did this Ladinified Indian want from them? He had always baffled them and on many occasions he had. succeeded in making his will prevail. But he was not going to make anyone run to take refuge in the mountains today. They were fine as they were, all gathered together. Alone they would lose their courage, they would go to their enemies and surrender, they would betray those who had fled. No one wanted to be alone.

“The troops are coming.”

“How? Along the roads, every stone is transformed into a guardian, every boulder into an obstacle, every grove of trees into an army. Such is the power of San Juan, whose double is in the sky and watches over us when the image in Chamula rests.”

The principal men of Chamula folded their arms. Where did strength lie? In arms, in guns? No: in this body that has drunk from the waters of the sacred spring. In this head where the emanations of pom penetrate. In these hands that hold up the saints’ platforms, that sprinkle water over the pine needles for the festivities, that string together the garlands of flowers. What can the blaspheming Caxlán, careless of his religious duties, do against these invulnerable men? What can his lead bullets do against this flesh to which divinity has communicated its attributes. Nevertheless, one of the old men wanted to know: “Have the Ladinos of Jobel brought out the Virgen de la Caridad in a procession?”

Pedro was going to say yes, that the Virgen de la Caridad had appeared on the Mount of Tzontehuitz, wearing the insignia of a general. But César Santiago spoke first.

“No. The Virgen de la Caridad is in her niche inside the church.”

A collective laugh of relief went up among the Indians. Their immemorial enemy, who can be found in several places at once during a battle, encouraging the fainthearted, restoring the dying to life, setting out fatal traps for the Chamulas, had taken no part in this conflict. Therefore it could be won. They embraced one another, uncorked the bottles of liquor, laughed until tears flowed from their eyes.

Fernando went over to César.

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Indifferent, he gave Fernando the details he wanted.

“And you didn’t realize it would make them bolder?”