Maybe, at last, it was time a Blackwood stood his ground, to prove that the blood was not all bad. Or perhaps he was just proving another belief widely held about the Blackwoods, that none of them were very bright.

He was surprised to see Zaragosa climb up to join him. If they had not developed a real friendship within these walls, the shared experience had made them tolerant of one another. Watching Zaragosa send his son away had touched a responsive chord in Isaac. It brought home to him the fact that though they might be of different races, different cultures, they were all similar human beings at the core.

Zaragosa looked out across the top of the wall, silent for a moment. He was gazing in the direction Manuel had taken.

Isaac finally asked, “Can you still see him?”

Zaragosa shook his head. “He is gone. I told him he must go.”

“He didn’t act like he wanted to.”

“I told him one Zaragosa in this compound is enough. I told him the danger is great, that he is young, and I want him to live to be a very old man. I told him also that he is the oldest son, and if I am gone his mother will need him.”

Isaac grimaced at the tone of that. “You talk like you don’t think much of your chances—our chances.”

Zaragosa shrugged. “I was a long time a soldier. In here”—he tapped his chest—”I am still the soldier. A soldier stands where he is needed, and he fights and does not count the enemy. But you are not a soldier. I wonder why you stay.”

“I wonder myself. I guess it’s because the others do.

And old Crockett down there—I can’t even remember the first time ever I heard about him. Don’t seem right for one Tennessean to run away and leave another one to do his fightin’ for him.”

“And your brothers? What of them?”

“Odd thing about them. All these years I’ve wanted to get away from them and have a life of my own. I always stayed because I thought they needed me. Now I’m here and they’re way east yonder, and they ain’t sent no message beggin’ me to come home. Maybe they don’t need me like I thought.”

“Perhaps what you do here is for them. If we can stop Santa Anna—if we can even slow him down—perhaps we give the Texas army time to be ready.”

“But is there a Texas army? From all I’ve heard it’s scattered to hell and gone, what there is of it, and everybody fightin’ so hard amongst theirselves that they ain’t got time for fightin’ Santa Anna.”

“I think they will awaken when they see the enemy coming. They must.” Zaragosa’s gaze went back to the town, to the flat-topped stone and adobe houses, to the tower of the San Fernando church. He was still looking for his son.

Isaac said, “He’s gone. He’s a good boy, I reckon. He done what you told him.”