excerpt
That was just like Infante, to find a way to turn the tables. So I was
being accused of insensitivity, failing to honour the memory of my
slain friend.
“Exactly what I was trying to do when you interrupted me,
Infante,” answered Losada.
“It is not the place of Friar Salvador to decide the security of this
city,” Infante said. “That is my job. I am sure, Friar, you would take
equal offence if I was to start leading us in prayer.”
There was a good deal of chortling at this remark. I was appalled
by Losada’s lack of control. What was going on? Why did Losada
accept such a tone from his subordinate?
“Friar Salvador, please tell us why are you so sure they are
seeking peace and not our demise?” Losada said.
“I told you. Their morale has been shattered. I can assure you they
are convinced they cannot win. They want to secure the survival of
their people. Some have opted for peace. Others are staying away.”
“Where? Away where?”
“I told you I didn’t come here to lead you to their villages. I
couldn’t if I wanted to. I don’t know where they are.”
“But you know their language, I presume,” Infante intervened.
“I do.”
“I, in the captain’s boots,” Infante said, turning to the others,
“would interrogate the caciques with Friar Salvador’s aid to secure
the safety of the people in the city.”
A murmur of approval spread among the onlookers.
“I will do as I must, don Infante,” answered Losada, indicating
his leniency for insubordination still had its limits. I didn’t like
Infante’s obsequious tone or Losada’s conciliation to it. There was
something going on between the two.
“We are sure you will, don Diego,” Infante conceded. “Our lives
are in your hands.”
Infante bowed and the others followed. It was mockery rather
than respect. This bode ill.
I left Losada disappointed and afraid. Not one day among the
Spaniards, and already I smelled unshed blood.
Manolis Aligizakis 