NEW RELEASE!!! RIONEGRO BY BIL HOWARD

Here is a short excerpt from "RIONEGRO"

There was no hurry to be moving. They were far away from the danger near the Plain of Bogota and it was likely any Spanish troop movements using the river had already taken place shortly after the conflict. Santiago maintained, however, that it was very likely that the Spanish army was still busy hunting for rebels in the mountains around Bogota and reestablishing themselves in the town which had rebelled all around Bogota and would not likely be venturing back toward Cartagena and Barranquilla. With that little bit of information, he gave them leave to rest for a few days and saddled Ganador for a ride to the settlement to buy supplies and make inquiries. He knew a little bit about the settlement, having ridden through it a few times and had even stayed the night there after he first left Rionegro. Esteban and Maribel took advantage of the situation and stretched out in the shade of the trees using the extra saddle and the rolled up pack of the silleta to lean against as they watched the lazy flowing river pass by. “He’s a very good man,” Esteban said. “Yes,” she said. “I am lucky to have him.” “It’s not all luck Maribel,” he said. “You deserve him.” “Thank you,” she said. She was a bit confused by the direction of the conversation, but she could tell that Esteban wanted to talk. There was a look of contemplation on his face that told her that he had something deeper to tell her. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t at all what she expected to hear. “You are a very good woman too,” he began. “You always have been. You’ve always had a stubborn strength which defied all of the harsh things that were thrown at you. It must have been hell losing your mother and for the most part never having a father. The rest of the family was horrible in the way that they treated you and regretfully, I was maybe the worst. I don’t know how I became so lucky to get a second chance, but I did and I’m not going to screw it up.” “What do you mean by a second chance?” she said. “It seems you have the one who has been through all of this completely unscathed.” “That’s something that I don’t understand at all,” he replied. “I’m not sure I deserve it. I treated you horribly and you weren’t the only one. Saint Patrick has sustained me for some reason and the only possible reason that I can come up with is that he wants me to serve you.” She was silent. How could she possibly respond to this confession? She was a little bit uncomfortable with the fact that Esteban felt that he had to serve her. She didn’t want anyone to serve her. She could take care of herself. She was very grateful that Esteban had been there to take care of Santiago and bring him back to her. In some ways, perhaps that was a sort of service to her, but she wasn’t sure why Esteban had the idea in his head that he ought to serve her. “Why would you need to serve me?” she asked. “To set things right,” he replied, staring at the design that he was drawing in the grass with a stick. “Haven’t you already set things right?” she said. “You repented and apologized. I accepted your apology and you brought me to Santiago. I think that you have done enough.” “I don’t,” he said. “I’m the only family you’ve got.” “Yes,” she said. “You’re my only tie to my old family, but Santiago and I are going to start a new family. I am grateful for your company and for your help. You have been a God send to us, but please don’t feel like you have to serve me.” He looked directly into her eyes and she saw something very deep in them that made her trust his words. “I don’t think that you, I or anyone else can make that decision,” he said. “It’s the lot I’ve been given and the recompense for being saved on the battle field. Maribel, there is no logical reason that I can come up with that one of those musket balls did not kill me and God knows the Spanish were certainly more powerful and seasoned than I. In the exact moment when I ought to have perished, I was delivered and when I was on my feet again, I had the strength of Samson. I will never forget that for as long as I live and I will never shirk the duty that God has given me.” There was nothing more for her to say. She leaned back against the saddle, closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. She could hear the birds moving about through the grass, trees and shrubs around them. There was a soft breeze rustling the leaves in the trees and its gentle fingers reached beneath her hair to cool her while she rested. Centella was cropping grass nearby, once again content after raising a fuss when Santiago rode away on Ganador. She thought it was amazing how her ability to rationalize the situation made her completely comfortable with Santiago riding away to obtain supplies for them in contrast to the reaction that Centella had. The only companionship of the horse species that the mare had was Ganador and it must have been something of a moment of panic for her to have that companionship leave her. She was content with human’s a trusted them, but it wasn’t exactly the same. Could Centella rationalize that Ganador would return? Horses certainly didn’t have that rational ability. The conclusion that she reached before she drifted off for a mid morning nap was that an enormous amount of trust existed between her and the mare in order for Centella to calmly crop grass next to her without any understanding of what the future would hold. Her nap was interrupted by the very same mare raising her head from cropping grass and calling in a shrill whistle to a horse and rider approaching from down river. Startled awake, she felt her heart pounding and sat up abruptly, looking at Centella’s face pointed toward the newcomer with both of her ears focused in on the location of the sound of the hoof beats. “It’s probably Santiago,” Esteban said, slipping into cover with the musket and pistol just in case it wasn’t. Maribel wasn’t certain what she should do. She was horribly exposed. The only thing that she could think to do was to stand beside the mare and stroke her softly while she waited. In another moment, the mare nickered softly at the approaching horse and rider and not long after, she recognized the figure of Santiago on Ganador as they emerged through the brush. She heard and felt Esteban step out of his cover behind her and come up beside her. “Did you rest?” he asked, grinning broadly as he stepped from the saddle and came straight to her with his arms open for an embrace and a quick kiss. “I slept for a little while,” she said. “I don’t know about Esteban.” “I dozed off a few times,” he smiled. “It’s impossible not to with the sound of the river to keep you company.” His face suddenly fell. “No supplies?” Maribel hadn’t noticed that he was not carrying any supplies until Esteban asked the question. She wrinkled her brow at the thought that he was unable to find anything in the settlement. Perhaps there had been trouble. “Plenty of supplies,” he answered. Seeing the confused look on both of their faces, he explained. “I left them in a little house in the settlement.” He looked directly at Maribel. “How would you like to sleep in a bed tonight?” “Oh my God,” she replied. “You can’t be serious.” “I am,” he said. “I made an arrangement.” “So, when do we go?” she asked. She hadn’t noticed that Esteban had already taken up the saddle to put on Centella’s back. “Knowing how long it takes Esteban to saddle a horse,” he grinned. “I’d say right away.” It was only a few minutes before the saddle was ready and the bridle was in Centella’s mouth. Maribel scrambled up into her seat eager to actually be in a house with a bed and food cooked on a stove. It might be okay for men to sleep on the ground and eat the way they had been eating, but for Maribel a house and a bed were like heaven after haven’t not been in one for several weeks. With the silleta strapped onto his back, Esteban stepped out to head down river toward the settlement which Santiago had informed them was called Puerto Triunfo. There wasn’t much of a need for Santiago to be in the lead. If a person followed the river, it was impossible for him to miss the settlement, so Santiago mounted and stayed back with Maribel to take a leisurely ride along behind Esteban. “I’m so excited to get to sleep in a real bed,” she beamed. “Only the best for my love,” he smiled. “How did you do it?” she asked. “Someone recognized the horse,” he said. “What does that have to with anything?” she asked, once again wrinkling her brow. “It seems, Sir Ganador is quite famous,” he replied. “One of the patriots had returned home to his family here in the settlements and a woman saw me in the streets and brought me to her home.” “Do you always follow strange women home?” she asked, a little bit concerned about how he had been led home by a woman. “An old woman,” he said, knowing where Maribel’s mind had already wandered off to. “She is the boy’s grandmother. She had heard her grandson talking about a silver stallion on the Plain of Bogota and how that very stallion had defended its master as the Spanish soldiers were surrounding him. He also told her how a man who most certainly must have been possessed was fighting right beside the stallion. The two of them together had completely eliminated at least a dozen Spanish soldiers before the demon possessed man put the Spanish Lieutenant on the silver stallion and led him off of the battlefield. They disappeared in the smoke and though he had tracked them, he was never able to catch up with them. The way he had told the story, the three of them simply disappeared and no one knew where they went or if they were even real.” “That’s almost the story that Esteban tells,” she said. “Only, he never said how many surrounded you.” After hearing the story and after hearing what Esteban had told her earlier about feeling like he had been delivered by Saint Patrick, she fell silent, contemplating what really happened when Esteban rescued Santiago. “Do you think it’s true?” she finally asked. “I have no idea,” he replied. “I don’t remember much about it. I have a feeling that our young sillatero isn’t telling all of the story. Or at least he’s certainly holding back his part in it.” “Do you think something happened out there?” she asked. She paused a moment trying to put together the right words. “Something… from God?” “Something extraordinary must have happened,” Santiago replied. “The truth may have gotten stretched a bit in the telling. Most things like that are, but something profound happened to turn that event into a legend. What do you think?” “Esteban and I had a talk while you were gone,” she said. “He said that he believed that Saint Patrick had sustained him and kept him alive in spite of all of the odds in order to serve me.” “He had certainly served us both,” he replied. “He is a very good man. I’m glad he was there. There must be some special blessing running through your family.” “Why would you say that?” she asked. She could only think of how dark and horrible her youth had been and how her family had treated her. Her grandparents had been good people, but her aunts, uncles and cousins hadn’t impressed her very much; with the exception of Esteban as of late. “Because you are both strong and your hearts are good,” he answered simply. They both fell silent as they continued to follow the meandering Magdalena River toward Puerto Triunfo where she would sleep in a real bed under a roof.
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