Paz Tiongson led out of the sala to the overhanging balcony common in bahay na bato houses. On one side were the doors to the many rooms; on the other were large Capiz shell windows. As I followed, I glanced at the pretty front yard below, then at the empty streets past the fence.
A loud rattling noise made halt, and I saw that we were in front of my room for the night. Doorknobs were not yet widespread in the country and were uncommon even in more modern houses like the Tiongsons'. Paz took a few monts before she finally unlocked the stiff tal latch and opened the door.
She turned to , but before she could speak, I asked about what my nose had caught.
"Is that kamuning?" I asked, referring to satinwood, taking a couple of audible sniffs. A familiar, strong, soothingly sweet scent accompanied the air drifting in through the windows.
She mimicked my sniffing and then smiled. "No, Don Lardizabal... that's sampaguita."
"Ahhh," I said as I walked away from the open door toward the opposite window. I scanned the yard, trying to locate the plant and found the shrubs adorned with small white flowers behind the fences.
"Unassuming and yet so beautiful," I remarked thoughtlessly, now leaning on the windowsill. My tired mind was freely wandering, and the scent made things even dreamier.
"What... is?" Paz asked, pushing aside the fluttering curtain.
"The sampaguita flower. Not as ornate as the rose... so plain and small, yet it still manages to stand out," I said.
"I planted... those," she said after a pause. "And they provided good company all those years when my world did not extend beyond the fences."
I turned to her. She t my eyes but only for a second.
"Señora Agoncillo said you were sick?"
"Deathly... sick," she said with a noticeable quiver in her voice. Whether because of the chill, nervousness, or so other emotion, I could not tell. "I thought I would not live to see the new year."
I was tempted to ask what sickness and how she recovered, but I held my tongue.
I ended up staring... watching the gentle moonlight touch her face, making the faint freckles on her nose and cheeks visible, and the subtle rosy redness of her recovering skin.
There was a tug in my chest, which I imdiately swatted away.
"You did well... fighting off the ailnt and tending to those flowers. Now they bloom beautifully."
She sniffled, but she wasn't crying. "Thank you."
"Can I ask for so stems to bring back to Marinduque?" I asked.
"Of course," she replied enthusiastically.
"Well then, Señorita," I said as I turned toward the door, "Good night."
---
I went to sleep, doubtful that my request for an independent military command would be approved. What I learned from the talkative Antonio Tiongson over breakfast the next morning gave so hope.
"Every warlord, a general." That was what he said about the hierarchy of the Filipino army. Every provincial strongman who ca to the president with an army was given the rank.
He spoke negatively of it, and I personally believed it was generally bad for the army, but that ant I had a chance of having my request approved. There was no one in Marinduque who possessed my level of wealth and influence. Perhaps the province only ca under General Trias' jurisdiction because they were unaware of an aggressive leading figure in the area.
I hoped I had introduced myself as one, and the hesitation was simply the President's way of giving himself ti to research .
"The army has too many generals, and Heneral Luna is having a hard ti trying to rein them all in. So are outright uncooperative, most dilly-dally," said Don Antonio. He had the sa first na as the general, and I wondered if that had any part in his positive opinion of him.
"He would have had it easier if he weren't too stern," comnted Agapita Tiongson as she refilled the pitcher of coffee on the table. "He is disliked because he is loud and aggressive, and... arrogant."
It was increasingly clear to that the Luna and Aguinaldo factions did exist, dividing even friends and family. Yet another problem that plagued the Filipino army. Factionalism had always been a fatal flaw in militaries throughout history.
"We need his sternness and aggressiveness to whip our lousy army into shape. Discipline..." Don Antonio raised a finger for emphasis. "That's the first thing they need to learn. And the president is not tough enough for that job. Emilio's too agreeable... he couldn't say no to his advisers."
"Well, between the president and Heneral Luna, Señor Aguinaldo has actually won us battles. Maybe the lack of respect for Señor Luna is because he has not proven himself," Basilia Tiongson chid in as she refilled the breadbasket. Yet another one of his daughters who was anti-Luna.
"Luna studied military warfare in Europe... he's basically our greatest hope against the Aricans. Aguinaldo studied dicine in Santo Tomas, and he did not even finish," Don Antonio huffed. "What do you girls know about war, anyway?"
The room fell silent.
Vicente cleared his throat. Impressively, the lieutenant had not butted into the conversation, despite his eager nods of agreent with Don Antonio's statents.
"You should judge him for yourself, Don Lardizabal," Antonio said, turning his attention back to . "He built and operates the Academia Militar here in town—the only military academy in the country. You should visit."
A military academy.
I thought my ears were fooling . For such a problematic organization, I did not expect such an institution to exist. Heneral Luna sounded like an insufferable person, but Trivino was right. He did seem to be working hard for the cause.
"That would be a pleasure."
Don Antonio's eyes lit up. "Speaking of which, you should et Heneral Isidoro Torres first. He is just across the street, and he works closely with Luna."
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