More and more workers arrived, streaming out of the nearby barrios, until their number reached up to forty n. They ca not out of sheer patriotism—though that sentint might have flickered in so hearts—nor did they do it for money. Had that been the case, then with all the building and preparation we’d done just this week alone, my coffers would’ve been emptied dry.
Workers were paid in rice. And for so, that was handso pay enough. Although rice was abundantly grown in the province, not everyone could afford it. The poor often contented themselves with root crops—cassava, sweet potatoes, taro—and only savored rice during rare celebrations. A few sacks of rice could an a week of full bellies for a whole family.
Don delos Santos had them gather around him. With an authoritative tone I was not used to hearing from him, he assigned the roles to the workers. So were to destroy the dikes, which bordered the paddies and helped lock water in place. The rest were to build ditches to guide water out of the area.
Then the work began in earnest, and the n, ard with their shovels, spades, and bolo knives, battled the stubborn soil and thick mud. The sun bore down on them, and before long, shirts were stained with sweat and dirt. The rhythmic clanging of tal against earth echoed across the field.
Don delos Santos watched hawkishly from the road with us.
"So, how long will this take us, all in all?" I asked the juez.
He took a good scan of the rice fields and sighed, "Just the draining and the drying could take up to five days. Then, depending on what you want to do with the field, this could take us a week or two."
"That wouldn’t work," I said, scratching my head. The training of the first batch should start on Monday.
That is, if I want the second batch trained within the month—March 6 to 17 for the first one hundred, and then March 20 to 31 for the newly trained recruits.
"What would it take for you to finish this by Monday?" I asked him.
"Monday... that would be very tight," Don delos Santos said, sharply inhaling through his teeth. "I would need a lot more n—maybe a hundred more—and ready access to the materials. I would also need your close supervision on what you want done. That ans you’ll have to stay here at least until Sunday."
He shook his head. "I would suggest we give this a good week. Do whatever you had planned next, next Monday. I could say with so certainty all will be done by then."
I considered his suggestion. Having this all done by Monday would be pushing it. That said, I didn’t know if I still had ti to waste.
"A hundred more workers, huh," I repeated, staring at the rice fields.
"Yes. But our workforce is spread thin," he answered. "I suppose we could scour the nearby barrios for more workers, but that in itself would also take ti."
I put on my cap and walked toward my horse. The two escorts who were with also went to their horses when I mounted.
"I will give you a hundred more workers, Don delos Santos," I said.
---
My presence quickly registered when I entered the town proper. As I rode through, townsn paused in their daily tasks to wave or shout a greeting. Even the children recognized , their curious eyes following from windows and doorsteps.
Unlike Boac, Santa Cruz remained relatively quiet. The points of activity lay outside the town proper—the training grounds in Landi and the barracks that stood on the fringes. The main roads retained their calm. Still, I noticed a few supply carts creaking by and recruits patrolling the streets or standing guard in shaded corners, their rifles held with discipline.
The barricade I had erected during my last visit still stood—only now it was no longer the makeshift affair of coconut fronds and fallen branches. Soone had reinforced it with wood and bamboo, with sandbags neatly stacked at strategic points.
Interestingly, the sa boy who had once fallen asleep outside that very barricade—the one Don Suarez had sent to plead with —now stood behind it proudly in uniform. A strip of white cloth tied around his shoulders marked him as an officer cadet. That surprised .
Still, my attention shifted. I saw another familiar face. Coincidentally, Severino Contreras was also assigned to the checkpoint. There were faint discolorations on his face, remnants of past bruises. He avoided eye contact, his posture rigid.
"How can I help you, Heneral?" the boy cadet asked as I approached. He offered a crisp salute. "We weren’t inford you’d be around."
I heard the rhythmic shouts of drilling soldiers in the distance. I glanced toward the noise and saw two platoons of recruits engaged in physical training on a newly cleared field. When I left, that space was still cluttered with shrubs and tree stumps. Now it had been flattened and tad.
The barracks had multiplied as well. What was once just two converted copra storehouses had beco three. The third building had been built in the sa style as the others, perhaps for aesthetic consistency or simple practicality.
I glanced back at the lad. Unless Pedro, for so reason, had decided to be progressive in selecting cadets, it wouldn’t make sense for a re servant to be chosen as one. "You are an officer cadet? What’s your na?"
"Adan Suarez, Heneral," he replied.
I raised my eyebrows. It was starting to make sense. "Adan Suarez... any relation to the gobernadorcillo?"
"I am his younger brother," he answered, a little confused. Perhaps wondering how I did not know that... and I was wondering the sa.
I chuckled and started dismounting from the horse. "Alright, Adan... can I ask where your commanding officer is?"
"Capitan Sadiwa is in the building in the middle," he pointed to the sa storehouse I had converted into the officers’ quarters and the recruitnt center.
Just as I was about to go around the barricades, I saw Adan nudge his n to take our horses.
Severino was the one who took mine.
"Are you alright, hijo?" I asked him, in a low voice.
He seed surprised to have heard what I said. He stared at and then weakly smiled, "I am fine, Don Martin."
---
Gabriel Sadiwa. He was the one Pedro had suggested be commissioned as the senior officer for the Santa Cruz recruits. His grandfather had served as a Guardia Civil, and as if that alone conferred military acun through blood, the principales of the town had floated his na without hesitation.
I was not aware of his qualities yet, but when I told him that I would need a hundred of his n to help with the construction of the training grounds in Landi, he enthusiastically agreed. The remaining fifty would be enough for patrols and manning the checkpoints.
I also visited the one Señor Madrigal had appointed to be in charge of the storehouses in the town—Señor Benjamin Abante, the cabeza of a nearby barrio. I tasked him to ensure that he and his n were in close coordination with the construction for easy access to the resources.
I had been in town for less than an hour, and sohow, Don Suarez already knew of my arrival.
He offered to host us for snacks in his residence. I accepted, but told him we would need a full al instead. We hadn’t eaten anything since we set out from Boac early in the morning.
He readily obliged. With his large retinue of servants, a bountiful al was served at our table within an hour: large crabs cooked in coconut milk paired with squash, roasted stuffed milkfish, and chicken adobo. I was not overly fond of Don Suarez—sothing was off with him—but at least during the al, I had forgotten all of that and was only grateful to him.
"Forgive , Heneral... that piece of land in Landi was all I could arrange. Don delos Santos seed disappointed as well," he opened the topic without initiating. "There was a nice piece of untouched flat land in Biga, but the man who owned it was quite stubborn. Don Zoleta said he used it for grazing, and if it were requisitioned, he’d have nowhere to move his large herd of cows and carabaos."
"It’s alright, Don Suarez, we can work with the rice fields. Don delos Santos already has a plan," I replied. Maybe the gobernadorcillo did try his best, and it wasn’t enough. His youth didn’t make him very intimidating.
I could take that land by force. And as for the herd-slaughter the cows for dried at and put carts on the carabaos—but better not restart the struggle I had with the principalia in the area.
"Oh! You did ntion you’d be staying here for a few days," he said.
"I will. Don delos Santos needs to be around," I replied.
"Kasily is nearby," he said. "If the town is too far for you to go back and forth, you could use my father’s house there as your temporary residence."
That was true. Kasily was just a barrio away. And with the villagers still grateful for our deeds, I could enjoy hospitable neighbors.
But the owner of the house, the old man I had failed to save, had just recently died. I didn’t know if it would be right to disturb his house this soon.
Don Suarez took my silence for agreent. "I’ll send word to Alicia."
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