Wind of Destiny Read online

  Thus the rest of the year seemed to pass in a flash, and it was a matter of rejecting Ma and Pa’s repeated suggestion that, although of course they did not expect her home for Christmas, they would love to see her for the peculiarly American festival of Thanksgiving. She declined, on grounds of uncertain health, and left them to wonder if she was pregnant or not. Indeed she debated to herself the whole matter of pregnancy, which had not yet happened. Rafael was terribly disappointed by this, and inclined to blame himself. She did not argue the point, but she felt the lack was more probably in herself. She was too excited, too confused, too apprehensive of what the next year might bring, to wish to find herself confined with a swelling belly.

  More important, and worrisome, was the fear that Joe might stop by for a visit, or that Ma and Pa might decide to come to Obrigar for Christmas. She did not know how she could possibly carry off the great secret before them. In the event, Joe never did come; apart from being fully occupied with the Maine, there had been that contretemps with Christina at the reception — something about which Toni still had not discovered the truth — and Ma and Pa decided to spend Christmas in Long Island, where he would join them. The USS Maine had been launched, and would, within another few months, be in full commission. How Toni, brought up in the navy tradition, longed to see the ship. And Joe. But not here on Obrigar. And not anywhere, until she could face him with the truth, and hopefully receive his support.

  Christmas on Obrigar was celebrated in the lavish style which the Diaz family brought to all aspects of life. Once again the peons performed their dragon-fighting act, although less erotically this time. But the celebration was confined to the family, the overseers, and their wives, and although all the traditional food and wine and gifts were enjoyed, it was strange to Toni, used to the visits by the McGann neighbours on Long Island, and the exchanging of gifts over cups of mulled wine on Boxing Day, to be quite so isolated. Yet this, as Christina had warned her, was the pattern in Santiago Province. Which made it quite clear that actually no one had any doubts at all that the Diazes were in league with the guerrillas, and while the good people of Santiago, and the other planters, would attend such an important event as the wedding of the Diaz heir to an American, they did not really want to be identified as Diaz friends.

  ‘They hate us, really,’ Christina confided. ‘Because Father is a more successful planter than any of the others, because his father was pardoned and some of their fathers suffered, and because they know that Father will be one of the leaders of the new Cuba, when the Spaniards have been ejected.’

  ‘Can that really happen?’ Toni asked.

  ‘Of course it can,’ Christina declared. ‘It must. It will.’

  ‘They are afraid of us,’ Rafael explained. ‘Even Lumbrera is really afraid of us. That is why he is so polite. They know we command the loyalties of all the peons of Santiago Province.’

  ‘You told me Jack Lisle was the general,’ Toni reminded him.

  ‘Jack is an experienced soldier, and will command us in the field. But he is nothing without us,’ Rafael asserted.

  ‘You know that I understand what is happening here,’ she said to Lisle at last, one day when she had ridden out by herself into the fields, and deliberately sought him out.

  ‘You could hardly do otherwise,’ he agreed. ‘I hope you can be discreet.’

  ‘Of course I am discreet. But do you really think you can succeed?’

  ‘If I did not, I would not be here.’

  ‘And afterwards?’

  ‘Afterwards?’ He shrugged. ‘Cuba will belong to the Cubans.’

  ‘And you will not seek office amongst them? As a successful general in the revolution surely you could ask anything you wished.’

  ‘Seek office amongst this … ’ he changed his mind about what he might have said. ‘No, I shall not seek office amongst them, senora.’

  ‘Because you do not think they will make a success of independence,’ she accused.

  ‘Because I will then, hopefully, have my own life to live,’ he told her. ‘I do not wish to devote myself entirely to revolution, and fraction, and disorder.’

  Which was, in fact, agreeing with her accusation, she realised. ‘You wish only to avenge your father.’

  He gazed at her. ‘Why, yes, senora. That is what I came here to do.’

  ‘And how many people have to die for you to achieve that end is meaningless to you,’ she snapped, suddenly angry with him.

  ‘I happen to have found a people whose mood suits mine,’ he said, equably. ‘I cannot look for anything more.’

  She kicked her horse and galloped back to the house. They were all so insufferably confident, so careless of human suffering, she told herself. But the real cause of her anger was the understanding that victory in the revolution would mean the end of her private, criminal dream. No doubt that would be a very fortunate thing for her. But she still could not look forward to it.

  And the human suffering was about to begin. She got back to the house to find the Diazes assembled in Don Arnaldo’s office. Rafael seized her arm and took her aside. ‘Father has had a message from Josef Marti,’ he said. ‘In code, you understand, from the Dominican Republic. He and General Gomez will land in Cuba next week, with their army.’

  Chapter 6

  The Field — 1895

  Toni sat down with a bump. ‘Here?’ she asked weakly.

  ‘No,’ Don Arnaldo said. ‘They are determined on a single bold stroke at the commencement of the campaign.’ He unrolled a map of Cuba on his desk, and they crowded round to look at it. ‘He will land in Oriente Province, here,’ he said, indicating the area lying well to the north west of Santiago. ‘From there he will be able to split Cuba in two, you see, secure the whole southern half of the country, and have Santiago and Guantanamo as seaports through which we can continue to obtain our supplies of men and munitions.’

  ‘And money,’ Dona Carlotta pointed out.

  ‘Oh, indeed, and money. We cannot continue to finance the whole operation from the profits of Obrigar.’

  Toni was getting her breath back under control. ‘Then it won’t involve us, right away,’ she said hopefully.

  ‘Not the plantation,’ Rafael agreed. ‘But Marti will require every available man.’

  Don Arnaldo nodded. ‘You will send a messenger into the sierra, immediately, to inform Garcia of the news, and instruct him to start moving his people through the hills into Oriente Province and there await orders. Tell him we will be with him as soon as possible. Then you had better also inform Jack of the situation, he is in the fields somewhere … ’

  ‘Number thirty-seven,’ Toni said absently.

  ‘Good, thirty-seven. Ask him to return here immediately, to take command of our own force … ’

  ‘You are sending your people to fight?’ Toni asked, aghast.

  ‘I am leading our people to fight,’ Don Arnaldo told her.

  ‘But … ’ she looked at Rafael.

  ‘I must go too, my darling. This is the revolution. ’

  She gazed at Christina.

  ‘We will manage here,’ Christina said.

  ‘What happens when Lumbrera next drops by?’

  ‘We will have to fend him off,’ Carlotta said. ‘That is all. We must play our part.’ However pessimistic she had from time to time been in the past, now she was as determined and indeed aggressive as either of her men.

  Toni looked at Christina again.

  Who gave one of her sad smiles. ‘It is what we have all been waiting for,’ she said. ‘Now we must all play our parts.’

  *

  All play our parts, Toni thought. She found it incredible that they should be sitting down to their normal luncheon, served by white jacketed waiters, with Salvador pouring the wine with all the care and aplomb of the most normal day. And Ma and Pa would be doing the same thing up in Long Island, while Joe no doubt was having lunch in the wardroom of the Maine, somewhere on her trial voyage out in the Atlantic, none of the
m the slightest bit aware that the whole world was about to fall apart, at least in Cuba.

  Jack had lunch with them, of course, and outlined his dispositions, having carefully studied Marti’s message, which had been brought by the master of a fishing boat out of Daiquiri. ‘We will take two hundred men/ he said. ‘We will leave tomorrow evening, and march through the night, to link up with Garcia’s people as soon as possible. That will leave a hundred peons on the plantation, Dona Carlotta, and we will also leave you three overseers. You must maintain a show of working normally. Fortunately, we are so near to grinding that there is not a lot to be done.’ He smiled at them. ‘We shall, of course, endeavour to have the work force back here in time to cut cane, within a fortnight at the outside.’

  ‘We cannot conquer Cuba in a fortnight,’ Rafael said.

  ‘I never supposed we could. Nor does Marti,’ Jack said. ‘But we can certainly secure Santiago Province in that time. If we can take Camaguey, and cut Santiago de Cuba off, we can demand the surrender of the city. General Linares only commands about two thousand men, there. If we surround the city with ten times that number, he will know the game is up.’

  ‘Can he not be supplied by sea?’ Toni asked.

  ‘Not if we can seize the forts commanding the narrows. I have no doubt Marti has this all worked out. The important thing is that once we have control of Santiago Province, we can then prepare ourselves for the campaign which will take the north and Havana, from the foothold we will have here. There will be time to grind the cane and even ship it, before we launch the final assault.’

  He made it all sound so simple. ‘Don’t you think the Spaniards are going to fight at all?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course they are going to fight, Dona Antoinette,’ he agreed. ‘But we are going to beat them, this time. Now, the timing is excellent from our point of view. Lumbrera and his men were down here only a week ago. That means they will hardly return for another fortnight, if he maintains his normal pattern. By that time he will be having enough to do keeping Santiago under control — we have a great number of supporters amongst the peons there. So hopefully he will not be back to trouble you ladies. However, should he do so, you must not attempt to resist him. Let him search for us, and for weapons, and anything else he wishes to do, and tell him as little as possible. He will have no reason to harm you, however much he may rant and rave. You are not responsible for the actions of your husbands, or your brother,’ he added, glancing at Christina, ‘if they have just ridden off into the night. And always remember, we shall be back with you, victorious, and if Lumbrera has insulted you, he will be the first to hang. As he is undoubtedly aware. I think you will find that once news of our success starts to come in, he will be quite accommodating.’

  But suppose there are no successes to report? Toni wanted to ask. ‘Lumbrera is going to hang, anyway,’ Don Arnaldo growled.

  ‘From the bell tower of the cathedral in Santiago,’ Rafael vowed.

  Lisle smiled, grimly. ‘Agreed. And several others beside him. But being the rats they are, they will seek to preserve themselves for as long as possible.’

  How carelessly he, they, spoke of hanging Lumbrera. And others. These were thoughts, emotions, of which she had no experience. She had been prepared to hate the police colonel, but not to the extent of wishing him dead. Now she was truly moving into a world of which she had no understanding.

  ‘So I think we will have to omit our siestas, this afternoon,’ Jack was saying, addressing the two men mainly, but including the women as well. ‘There is a lot to be done.’

  *

  The ladies spent their afternoon firstly in the kitchen, working with Salvador and the chef to prepare rations for Rafael and Arnaldo, and for Jack as well, and then upstairs in the laundry room sorting out the blankets they would take with them, and the spare shirts and socks. ‘Men think going off to war is simply a matter of strapping on their swords and making sure their guns are loaded,’ Carlotta said. ‘But they are the first to complain when they cannot change their socks.’

  Yet the weapons were the most important. Toni watched in excited horror as Rafael, when he came in from selecting the men who would accompany them to battle — she wondered if the poor peons had been given any choice — unlocked a cabinet on the top floor, and from it took out the Mauser rifles and the Colt revolvers, wrapped in oil cloths and smelling of oil as well, and laid them reverently on the table, along with the boxes of ammunition. Then came the swords, each with little silken pennons in the Cuban colours of blue, white and red — as far removed as possible from the crimson and gold of Spain — tied to their hilts.

  ‘You mean these have been in the house all the time?’ she asked, aghast.

  ‘Of course. Have you never seen weapons before?’

  ‘Only a shotgun,’ she confessed. ‘I guess Pa still has his service sword and revolver, but he doesn’t show them around much.’

  ‘And Joe?’

  ‘He never brings them home with him. To think, that those are actually going to be used … ’

  ‘Yes, it is horrifying,’ Christina agreed. She had accompanied them, and was now carefully wiping the guns.

  ‘But you are not afraid of the thought.’ Toni did not specify which of them she was addressing.

  ‘I am a soldier,’ Rafael said proudly.

  ‘It is something that has to be done,’ Christina declared.

  ‘And when it is done?’

  Christina raised her head. ‘Why,’ she said. ‘Then we will all laugh, and cheer, and be happy.’

  ‘And you will be able to marry?’ Toni wanted to ask. But she didn’t, because then she would have to ask, will it be to Joe, or to Jack Lisle? But there was another reason she didn’t ask the question. As she looked into her sister-in-law’s eyes, she realised that Christina did not really expect that to happen.

  *

  She clung to Rafael that night, even if he was too exhausted by his afternoon’s work to be much more than a perfunctory lover. In fact, she did not want sex. Her mind was too much of a jumble of conflicting emotions. ‘What do you really expect to happen?’ she asked him.

  He nuzzled his cheek against her nose. ‘If all goes according to plan, Marti and General Gomez and their men will be ashore before the Spaniards even know they have left Haiti. Then we will concentrate our forces, and together we will assault the city of Camaguey, as Jack said. Camaguey is the key to the whole operation, because it is the junction on the railway line from Havana to Santiago. Once we seize that, we have the south cut off from any assistance from Havana; the Spanish cannot attempt to march through the mountains. Or if they do, our men will slaughter them. Without the railroad the regulars are useless.’

  ‘But will Camaguey not resist?’

  ‘No doubt. But it has only a small garrison, and should not give us too much trouble, if we attack it before it can be reinforced. This is the essence of Marti’s plan. Once it is ours, we will install a strong garrison of our own, before marching back to demand the surrender of Santiago. By then the news of our rising will have spread throughout the country. We anticipate outbreaks in the north in our support, and here in the south the entire countryside will rise. As Jack said, this time we are going to beat them.’

  ‘You said, if all goes according to plan.’

  ‘Well, I expect that it will. But even if there are small hitches, once we have seized Camaguey, the game is ours. You will see.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. A few moments later he was asleep, but she did not sleep a wink, and after an hour, when she was sure he was soundly off, she got up, put on her dressing gown, and sat on the upstairs verandah, staring at the night, at the twinkling lights in the overseers’ houses down the hill, and in the peons’ village beyond that. Many an anxious wife was sitting up this night with her husband, she supposed. She wondered what Jack was doing, knew an awful temptation to leave the plantation house, and walk down there, in her nightclothes … and let events take their course. Because her world might
be coming to an end. He might be marching to his death, tomorrow, and all her nebulous dreams would be meaningless. At times like this surely it was permissible to throw convention, honour, pride, even manners, to one side, and live while the opportunity was there.

  And destroy everything. One of the most surprising, and touching, aspects of Rafael’s character was that he possessed not the slightest jealousy of Jack. That he, a husband, apparently suspected nothing of his wife’s secret passion was itself surprising, but more than that, he had to know that Don Arnaldo valued Lisle more highly than himself, at least in the business they were about to undertake. And he happily accepted that, indeed, he seemed to worship Jack’s potential as a military leader as much as his father.

  To destroy such faith, and the confidence it inspired, at a moment like this would not only be despicable, it would be disastrous to the Cuban cause. Besides, she thought, Jack was no doubt sleeping just as heavily and soundly as Rafael himself. He was not going to have to stay behind, and wait, and watch. And think of what might have been.

  Even more besides, the Jack of lunch and dinner, with his plans and his determination to kill, was suddenly a stranger to her. Of course he had never been other than a stranger to her. Her knowledge of him, and the concept that she had built around that knowledge, existed entirely in her imagination of what he would be like. She had no knowledge of the reality.

  She dozed in her chair, awoke with a start at the first cock crow, gave a shiver and massaged her stiff neck; the period just before dawn could be chill, even in Cuba in April. She got up and went inside, where Rafael was just stirring. Hastily she took off her dressing gown and got back into bed beside him, snuggling her cool body against his. For perhaps the last time, she thought. But now she did not want to think things like that.

  He was awake, and in a hurry to be doing. She dragged on her clothes without waiting for her maid, while he went into his dressing room, where his valet was already waiting for him, and emerged in a uniform she had not known him to possess, white trousers, a white tunic with brass buttons, and a white topee. Round his waist he strapped his sword belt and a holster containing one of the Colt revolvers; his rifle he slung on his back. He looked very martial, but at the same time slightly absurd, she thought, like a toy soldier going off to fight in a toy war. ‘Do I look all right?’ he asked her, anxiously.