“Well, well,” the soldier said. “If it isn’t the Ghost of Oaxaca.”
Chapter 8: The Waltz of Knives
The soldier was Captain Valeriano. He was known as “The Butcher of the South.”
“You know this man, Captain?” the Governor asked, looking between them.
“Know him?” Valeriano laughed, stepping closer. “I hunted him for three years. This isn’t just a slave, Governor. This is Nahuel of the Eagle Clan. The son of the cacique who led the uprisings in the Mizteca mountains.”
The room gasped.
Isabela looked at Nahuel. He hadn’t told her this. He had said his family lost their land, not that they were leaders of a rebellion.
“He is a traitor to the Crown,” Valeriano spat. “A revolutionary. He disappeared after we burned his village. I thought he was dead. Instead, I find him playing dress-up in Veracruz.”
“He is a free man,” Isabela stepped in, her voice shaking but loud. “I have his papers. He broke no laws here.”
“His existence is a crime,” Valeriano growled. He put his hand on the hilt of his saber. “Governor, I demand he be arrested for treason.”
“On what grounds?” Nahuel spoke up, his voice ringing through the hall. “The uprising was ten years ago. There was a general amnesty issued by the President last year for all political dissidents. Or does the Captain not read the decrees from Mexico City?”
It was a gamble. A massive one. But Nahuel knew the law better than the soldiers did.
Valeriano stiffened. He knew about the amnesty. But he didn’t care.
“Amnesty covers political crimes,” Valeriano hissed. “It doesn’t cover murder. You killed three of my men in the pass of San Jose.”
“They were burning a church with women inside,” Nahuel shot back, his composure cracking, revealing the fire beneath. “I stopped them.”
“Murderer!” Valeriano shouted, drawing his saber.
The crowd screamed. Women fainted. The music stopped.
“Stop!” The Governor shouted. “Captain, put that away! This is a ballroom, not a battlefield!”
Valeriano hesitated, the blade shimmering in the candlelight. He glared at Nahuel with pure hatred.
“You think you are safe because you hide behind a woman’s skirts?” Valeriano sneered.
“I hide behind nothing,” Nahuel said, stepping in front of Isabela. “If you want to finish this, Valeriano, meet me outside. dawn. Or are you only brave when you have a regiment behind you?”
“Duel!” someone shouted.
The Governor looked pale. “I will not have bloodshed at my ball! Get out! Both of you! Captain, stand down!”
Valeriano sheathed his sword with a clatter. He leaned in close to Nahuel.
“You won’t leave the city alive, Indian. I will finish what I started in Oaxaca.”
He turned to Isabela. “And you, Doña. You harbor a traitor. When I am done with him, I will come for your land. And you.”
