“That’s because you are doing it wrong,” I called. I pulled my horse back and navigated to the right, bringing myself between José and Rossetti. “Don’t hold so tightly to the reins, and when you want to move don’t pull so hard. Just a gentle nudge will do.” I looked over to José, who was struggling with his horse as well. “Your knees are pressing in too tightly. The more relaxed you are, the more relaxed she’ll be.” José did as I said, and his horse immediately calmed down.

Rossetti scowled. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“Because while your nose was in a book, I was trained to ride a horse. I’ve been riding since before I could walk.” Without warning I grabbed José’s hat and threw it as far as I could out into the air ahead of me. Kicking my heels into my horse’s side, I peeled away after it. As we approached the hat lying on the ground, I swung low from my saddle and scooped it up in my hands. I held José’s hat high to the air as I pulled back on my reins causing my horse to rear up on her hind legs. “Perhaps not everything is better in Italy!”

I kept my horse positioned in the spot while she stomped her legs up and down, marching in place like the four-legged soldier she was. She preened with pompousness. Smiling slightly I handed back José’s hat.

Rossetti looked like he had a lime in his mouth, while José beamed with pride. “Also, Senhor Rossetti, we do not travel at a faster pace because we need to conserve the horse’s energy. A strong horse will get us much farther than a tired one. Likewise, these beasts, as you call them, are quite sensitive. If we ride them to the point of exhaustion, they will die.”

“Oh, well of course.” Rossetti sputtered. “I was just expressing my frustration.” He turned his horse away from me, this time with a gentler touch.

Our band of survivors consisted of about two hundred and forty, a third of what we’d had in Laguna. In addition to our fatalities, a large number of the soldiers who had once been our comrades had deserted us.

The terrible secret that the new Rio Grande Republic was keeping had escaped: It was poor. So poor that it could not fulfill its promises to pay the wages of its soldiers. The Republicans had been counting on a quick and profitable victory, making oaths they weren’t able to keep. Once people learned the truth, they left. Those of us who stayed were truly ragamuffins.

We moved along in silence, feeling the weight of our collective losses. We stopped to rest the horses and our tired, aching bones. The scouts that José had ordered to stay in Laguna caught up to our camp, letting us know we were not being followed, the Imperialists choosing to fortify their new stronghold. We were safe for now.