THIRTY-SIX

Diego had been sitting several tables away from Felipe. Now, as everyone else slowly filed out of the patio, their heads filled with the decision before them, he gathered Jaime with a glance and went against the tide to sit at Felipe's and Marianna's table.

"You say families can talk," he said at Felipe's curious glance. "We're family. Even him," he added, tipping his head at Jaime.

"May I join you?" came Costa's voice from the side.

"Of course," Felipe said before anyone else, but they all nodded. He was family, too.

"You were very careful, Felipe," Diego began, "not to voice your opinions, so as not to unduly influence others. Rightfully so. But now it's just us. And I want to know what you're thinking."

Felipe's eyebrows had shot up. But he said nothing, turning to Marianna beside him instead with the question on his face. She shook her head at him. "It's your decision," she said simply. "Whatever it is, I will be beside you."

He shook his head back, not accepting it so easily. "You said this valley was the only home you'd ever known."

"I said it was the first," she corrected. "That doesn't mean I cannot ever leave it, or will not. You've been saying for months, since he arrived," she gestured towards Diego, "that when the war is over, you want to go home, back to Los Angeles. So?" She shrugged eloquently, as if they were discussing a picnic. "We will go somewhere else, first, and then home."

He sighed heavily. Then, "I don't want you to be a camp follower! I don't want you going back to that!"

Now her brows raised. "Are you going to get a veil, and force me into it? Or make me stay hidden in a carriage or a tent at all times?"

"No!" was his outraged reply.

"Then it will not be the same. And whatever I must do, I will do, until we can go home. As I have always done. If that means riding with you with a rifle, so be it. If it means joining the camp that follows the army, and waiting for you, I will do that, too, and make the best of it that I can. Or making a new home in an abandoned farm, and waiting for you there." Her mouth quirked. "Now stop your fussing, and admit what we all know you are thinking."

Felipe snorted, giving her an amused, resigned half-smile. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek, which she obligingly turned up. Then he faced the table again, staring at his open hands for a long moment.

"When I first joined Oso's partisans, years ago," he finally began, referring to the man who had led the group until he died, "I took on two goals. Two missions," he amended. "First, I wanted to learn how to protect myself, so no one would ever be able to beat me up, or lash me, or take what was mine, ever again." He was talking now to Diego, who nodded understanding. "When I had learned enough to do that, I had been accepted into the group, and it became... protecting my friends, too. Fighting beside them. And then when you made me Capitán," this towards Costa, "it became protecting the whole group, and doing the best I could as Capitán. And then their families. And finally, everyone in these mountains – and the mountains themselves, too." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "The second mission, of course, was the same one since I was seven years old, but it..."

He struggled for a second, then Marianna suggested, "Crystallized?"

"Yes, thank you. It crystallized, from everything that had happened. Fighting the Empire. Fighting its army, until they go away, and leave us alone. Leave Mexico alone." Felipe paused again, looking around and licking his lips as he thought. "As you said, it looks like the first one is winding down, whether I want it to or not. The Army is gone, the people don't need our protection any more, and this valley won't support all of us." He shrugged that one away. "But the second one... that is still there, clear and bright." He'd been speaking again to Diego, but now he shifted his gaze straight across the table to Jaime, and nodded. "You won't be the only one to go to the General. I will be going with you."

"We will be," Marianna corrected.

Felipe shrugged. "Even if it's just the three of us, we will join, and do our part. Who knows, maybe Guerrero will put me in command of a cavalry unit."

"That's a given," Costa put in, hard. "With your background? I'll give Guerrero this – he knows men, knows how to use them. If you don't come with a company, he'll give you one." It was Costa's turn to pause, then he plunged in. "But you won't be going alone. I'm going, too." Catching Jaime's and Diego's questioning looks, he shrugged defensively. "That's what I do. I fight the Empire – and there's still fight left in this old dog – and I follow El Halcón."

Felipe snorted, very softly. "Glad to have you, old man," he said, ignoring the complement. He turned to his brother. "Well, Diego?"

It was Diego's turn to look around. He started on a tangent, like Felipe had. "I love this valley. I love the life we have here. I love the people." Then he turned to Marianna. "But unlike you, Doña Marianna, this is not my home. My home is thousand miles northwest, where she waits. – Please, God, let her still be waiting," he added, a prayer under his breath. He looked back at Felipe. "I don't agree completely with your assessment of the Empire. I can't get there. But I do understand why you hold it. And I have come to understand... that they will never let me live in peace. As long as the Empire is in charge – and especially, as long as de Soto is in charge in Los Angeles..." He shook his head. "He will never let me live in peace. I declared myself their enemy when I put on the mask the first time – and it's well known now, that it was me." He shook his head. "Even if I had served out my entire sentence, and gone home with that official discharge, still... He would never let me be." He stopped, still wishing he didn't have to say it. But... "I know, too, that the only way I can ever go home and live in peace, is if Mexico wins, and becomes independent. If de Soto and the Empire are kicked out. So..." Taking a deep breath, he took the plunge he'd never wanted to take. "I'll be going with you, too. And I'll do whatever I can, to help the cause." He threw up a hand. "I won't take up arms again; I can't do that. But whatever else..." He shrugged, snorting. "I'm sure the General could use another surgeon."

Jaime stared. "You'd join the butchers?"

"No, I won't become a butcher," Diego corrected. "If I work on a man, it will still be to save his life – and hopefully all his limbs. But if that's what is needed, until we win, and can all go home..." A sour smile twisted his lips. "I may not be as enthusiastic as the rest of you, but I'm in. And I won't turn back."

They sat, looking around at each other, a bit stunned at how casually such a momentous decision had been made for each of them. Then Jaime sat up straight in between Diego and Costa, took a deep, proud breath, and stuck his right hand out, palm down, above the table. Felipe immediately covered it with his own, and the other three followed suit, Marianna last of all.

"Viva Mexico!" she whispered, low and intense, as if to say it louder would shatter something.

"Viva Mexico!" the others echoed, one by one, soft and fierce and proud and free.