“Are they exaggerating when they talk about the problems?”

Leonardo, gun tucked into his belt, did not look very reassuring.

“They aren’t seeing them clearly. The danger doesn’t lie with the Indians. There are a lot of them, I won’t deny that. But they have no arms, no leaders.”

He looked at Julia with a touch of mockery in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. For a second I forgot that one of the men who’s commanding them is your husband.”

Julia turned her back on him to declare, “He’s not my husband.”

The confession humiliated her, and did not even succeed in surprising or gratifying Leonardo. To him, it was no more than a triviality, a detail that didn’t change the situation in the least.

“We don’t have any means of defending ourselves either. À toy cannon and some chocolate soldiers. And we’re not going to get any help. Mexico is very far away. And as far as Tuxtla is concerned. . . .”

Leonardo opened the curtains to let in a chilly darkness.

“There are old grudges that haven’t been forgotten. And they have their own interpretation of the events. According to them, the Indian uprising is nothing but a story we’ve come up with. When we ask for their help it’s only because we want to distract their troops, then fall on a defenseless city, declare that its authority has disappeared, and return that authority to its place of origin: Ciudad Real.”

The misunderstanding seemed absurd to Julia, and very simple to clear up.

“Can’t they come here and see for themselves that the information is true?”

“Their dignity keeps them from doing so. They haven’t forgotten that we accepted the assistance of a foreign country, Guatemala.”

And what assistance it was. A few poor mercenaries who hadn’t even been issued uniforms and didn’t know how to stand at attention in front of their commanding officers. They played out the charade for a few days but then abandoned the barracks in groups. They took up with women from the outskirts of town and sold their work at much lower prices than the artisans of Ciudad Real. Since they were skilled, as well, they stole all the customers. Those whose luck wasn’t as good sponged in the houses of the rich. Julia could testify to that from experience. And if anyone tried to draw the line on their abuses, they gave vent to an endless litany on the Coletos’ lack of gratitude, which left the Coletos mute.

“What are you going to do?”