Intervention by Margaret P.
(With thanks to my beta, Terri Derr)
Chapter Seven (Words: 1,654)
Johnny's first full day in the Mexican army started at sun up with a bugle call. Five minutes later sergeants were bellowing orders for soldiers to line up. Lieutenant Herrera walked up and down the rows of soldiers under his command, and then Sergeant Lopez and another sergeant barked more orders for them to disperse.
The men pissed in the bushes, and those that could be bothered washed in the nearby stream. A shackled soldier had to go to the stream with an ordinary enlisted man, one on one to reduce the chances of an attempted escape.
"The company has three troops—now about one hundred and thirty men in total, including officers," Corporal Estrada said as he and Johnny washed together in the stream. "Each troop used to have two squads of twenty-five, but we suffered heavy losses at Durango. We were sent here for supplies and more men."
"Volunteers hard to come by, huh?"
Estrada shrugged. "We got a few, but we must re-join the rest of our battalion now and stop the bastards advancing north."
"How many men is Lopez in charge of?"
"Twenty with you lot—including the best corporal in the company." Corporal Estrada grinned. "Sargento Moya has less, but I think that will be rectified soon." Drying himself off with a small towel, he put the top half of his uniform back on as Johnny did the same and a loud clanging rang out from the campsite. "Breakfast. Best be quick Madrid. We won't get long."
Even if it was only tortillas and rice, at least it was hot and there was plenty of it. Johnny sat down with his fellow recruits and ploughed in. "Definitely better than prison." He must be growing again; there was no filling him at the moment. Old Jésus manning the chuck wagon grinned toothlessly, and tossed him the last tortilla.
"Attention!" Sergeant Lopez hollered at the top of his voice. All the men in the vicinity jumped to their feet and saluted where they stood.
The captain had followed his lieutenants out of his tent and was coming their way. He had ridden into camp the night before after everyone had settled down to sleep. Johnny had been woken by the sentry's challenge.
"At ease." The captain returned the salute and surveyed the men in front of him. Then he strolled about, talking to some of the regular soldiers, and thankfully steering well clear of Johnny and his companions.
Rodriguez scratched the stubble on his jaw. "Young for a captain, don't you think?"
"Hard to tell from this distance." Leon stuffed his mess kit into his knapsack and buckled the straps. "Don't matter as long as he doesn't use us as cannon fodder."
That didn't seem likely if the easy manner of the other soldiers was anything to go by. After five minutes, the captain left them to have a word with Lieutenant Herrera and the two sergeants, and then headed back to his tent.
With Estrada at his heels, Sergeant Lopez strode over to where Johnny and the other shackled men were killing time. "Unlock the rest and get them ready to move. We march as soon as the horses are hitched to the wagons. Madrid, you come with me."
Johnny hesitated and looked at the corporal for reassurance. He didn't like the idea of being alone with Lopez.
But Estrada nodded for him to follow. "Capitán Flores wants to see you in his tent."
Flores? Johnny blinked and stared at Estrada. It couldn't…
"March, you bastard!" Lopez rounded on him from where he'd stopped a few yards away. Johnny thrust his gear into Manuel's arms and hurried after the sergeant as best he could in irons. Lopez swiped him across the legs with the flat of his sword as he passed. "Pick up your feet, Madrid, or I'll have you flogged."
Johnny nearly fell flat on his face. Cabrón!
The canvas flap was open when they reached the captain's tent, but Johnny wasn't sure of the rules so he stopped outside.
"Get in there." Lopez shoved him past the sentry.
The interior was surprisingly spacious. A cot stood along the right hand wall with a trunk and a washstand at its foot and an unlit lantern sitting on a box beside it. Captain Flores was writing at his desk, half hidden from view by a corporal standing to attention.
"I expect a reply." Flores sealed his letter and handed it to the corporal. Placing the message in a satchel slung across his chest, the corporal saluted, about-turned and marched briskly outside.
Flores watched him go and then turned his eyes to the sergeant. "Thank you, Sargento Lopez. That will be all."
"But, sir…"
"Leave us."
Lopez threw Johnny a dirty look and did as he was ordered.
Without meeting Johnny's eye, Flores got up from his chair and walked past him. He said something to the sentry and then closed the tent flap.
Johnny held his breath. It could be, but he wasn't sure. The moustache and beard…it was hard to tell.
"You have grown, Juanito. I hardly recognized you."
Johnny exhaled with relief. "Tomás?"
"Sí, cousin, but here you will address me as Capitán Flores—if you address me at all. For the most part, I will leave you in the care of Sargento Lopez and Teniente Herrera. No one must know we are related. Agreed?"
"Sí…and muchas gracias."
"It is not me you should thank." Tomás went and stood behind his desk. "I do this for my father. Juez Martinez is right. I would not normally take a known pistolero into my ranks, no matter how desperate I was for men."
"Your father asked you to help me? Your mother must have begged him."
Tomás laughed. "You have a lot to learn about your own family, Johnny Madrid. My mother knows nothing about your arrest."
"But your father threw me out."
"You are a pistolero whose reputation spread to El Paso del Norte before you even set foot in town. He had no choice."
"He had a choice." Johnny bit his tongue hard. This wasn't the time or the place, but the memory of Emilio chucking him out still made him mad. Damn right the old man had a choice.
Tomás met Johnny's glare full on and frowned like he was looking at a hot-headed kid not a pistolero or a soldier in the Mexican army. "Grow up."
Johnny gritted his teeth and kept glowering. He'd grown up years ago. Tomás and Emilio knew nothing. "So why help me when I get in trouble with the law?" It didn't make any sense.
"Because Papá still remembers the boy who hid in the plum tree—as do I." Tomás broke eye contact and started sorting papers on his desk.
Johnny bowed his head and smiled down at his boots.
Three hours he'd hidden in that tree. Thurstan Cole had come back to fetch Mama after a whole month away in New Orleans. He wanted to leave on the afternoon stage, but Johnny didn't want to go. He liked staying with his cousins. He even enjoyed going to school after he got through the first few days. As soon as Mama tightened the strap on her trunk, he hightailed it into hiding. He knew she wouldn't leave without him, no matter what his stepfather said, and he knew Cole wouldn't do anything to harm her when Emilio and his older sons were around. The gambler searched everywhere for Johnny. The Flores family pretended to help, but Johnny was almost sure most of them spotted him in the tree at some point. They didn't say a word, and the gambler only found him an hour after the stagecoach left.
The memory drained the hot air right out of him. "I must have been about eight or nine."
"Your stepfather was fit to be tied." Tomás chuckled and offered Johnny water from the jug on his desk.
"Yeah, I kinda deserved that whopping." Johnny accepted the beaker of water. He wasn't really thirsty, but he'd be marching soon; he might not get another chance. "It bought me two extra days in El Paso del Norte though, didn't it?"
"I'm glad you think it was worth the trade."
Johnny shrugged. "So what happens now?"
"You serve your time and then leave or enlist by your own choice—if I can trust you. If I let you have a rifle like the rest, do you promise me you will use it only to fight for the Republic of Mexico?"
"I promise." Johnny looked Tomás straight in the eye.
"And do you promise you will not try to desert?"
"That too." Johnny ducked his head. "I owe you. I won't let you down."
"Good. I would not like to order your execution."
Johnny smiled and put his cup back on the desk. He knew his cousin wasn't joking, but he offered his hand. "Tomás."
"Capitán Flores." Tomás turned to put the folder he'd been filling into the field cabinet behind him.
Johnny got the message and straightened. "Sí, Capitán Flores."
Tomás nodded his approval and continued to gather up documents. "You may go now and have those chains removed. The company must march at least twenty miles today."
For a moment Johnny hesitated; he felt like he should say something more. He didn't know how to explain how he felt though, and Tomás didn't invite further conversation. He started putting ink and pens away in the cabinet, and his mind seemed to have switched back to army business. Johnny saluted and headed for the exit.
He was about to lift the flap when Tomás spoke again. "Watch your back, Johnny, and for God's sake control your temper. I cannot be seen to be your protector. Lopez is an experienced sergeant—I need him— but he's a brute, and he doesn't like that you are here."