Leonardo spoke the last word with rage. He knew himself and therefore thought he knew his men. He was not a coward. He did not tremble when the supreme moment came, standing in front of Isidoro, when the two of them settled their differences once and for all. Thanks to that feat he had considered himself the equal of the town’s leading men, and he had shared many adventures with them in which bravery was the essential element: hunting parties that enabled him to show off his sure eye and steady nerves; brutalities committed to punish and give a lesson to peons; abductions of women. And from time to time, as well, an ambush to rid himself of a rival.

Consequently, Leonardo was now scandalized by the conduct of the others. As their leader—which he was in the present emergency—he had assigned them very specific duties, all of which were to their direct benefit. Nevertheless, they evaded those duties on the most implausible pretexts. They left the town, the district, the danger, so as not to have to take part in the patrols. And their own homes were left at the mercy not only of the invaders but of any passing thief because they had forsaken them to go and take refuge in some hiding place.

The news that one of their ranches had been burnt down by Indians didn’t inflame them or fill them with rage; it made them afraid. They spoke of fleeing. At first in whispers, in secret. But now their discretion was gone. And some of them had fled.

Leonardo raised his head to see Julia already dressed for her afternoon salon. But who would be there? The women who weren’t sealed in by stones and mud or hiding out in warehouses or inside empty cisterns were wandering through the streets as if mad, yelling out confessions of all their sins, kneeling down in front of any passer-by to beg for his forgiveness. Because Ciudad Real had to be cleansed of its sins and their penitence would achieve that. The obdurate sinners would have to be cast out, stoned. The obdurate sinners like Leonardo, who took advantage of the situation’s abnormality to consummate his abominations. He visited La Alazana without taking the slightest precaution, as if he were issuing a challenge. And thus the wrath that the Coletos häd built up against their enemies, which they dared not unleash, was turned against the man who had made it his duty to defend them. Who was this parvenu? Isidoro’s murderer, Julia’s lover, the traitor who would reach an agreement with foreigners on the conditions under which Ciudad Real would be surrendered to them.