Republic Reborn: Against the Stars and Stripes-Chapter 73: Sta. Cruz

The gunshots had ceased, the bloodletting was over, and all that remained was a barrio both physically and mentally scarred. Almost every hut and house had broken-down doors. Some of the smaller ones had collapsed completely, and a few had been burnt to ashes.

The villagers themselves were traumatized, each reacting in their own way—blank stares, silent sobs, and angry outbursts as we passed by. Stones were still being thrown at the pirates, now bound together by a single sturdy abaca rope to form a human chain. Some of the rocks struck our soldiers instead.

It had been a tragic event, but in truth, the damage was relatively minor. Everything the pirates had tried to take had been returned. The broken and burned huts could be rebuilt in a week. And while the five deaths were tragic, they barely dented the village’s population.

We received a few thank-yous, but expecting a jubilant welcome from people who, just hours earlier, thought they’d be butchered like pigs was asking too much. Not to mention, these people had never before been subjected to the sheer volume of gunfire we had unleashed on their soil.

It was a relief when we finally left the miserable scene at Kasily. From the barrio, Sta. Cruz was now close enough to be traveled by foot. Our procession numbered a hundred men, not counting the captives. Helping us escort the pirates was a large band of civilians from the town proper and nearby villages, armed with an assortment of melee weapons and antiquated firearms.

Because of this, I was able to leave Sargento Guzman and ten soldiers behind to distribute some of our loot to the residents most affected by the raid, and to set up a watch in case any pirate reinforcements arrived.

"Might I ask, Don Suarez... how old are you?" I asked as we rode side by side at the helm. The road, more often used for inter-barrio travel, was good enough for a leisurely pace. We were near the coast, and the shade of Talisay and Mahogany trees shielded us from the late afternoon sun.

"I get that question a lot. Thirty years old. Too young for a gobernadorcillo, no?" he said with a smile.

"Well, you must’ve been exemplary for the old fossils to give way to you," I replied.

He chuckled. "Or maybe they just weren’t really interested in politics. With the country in its current state, government posts don’t carry the weight they used to."

I paused, letting my horse stop to allow him slightly ahead. An ipil-ipil branch jutted out over the road, making it impossible to pass on my side.

Once I caught up, he continued, "Although I must say... I didn’t expect our governor to command such a sizeable, well-armed force—and one that seemed well-trained to deal with pirates so easily."

I shook my head, smiling. "That ’well-trained’ force has only been drilling for about two weeks. I’ve got more training lined up for them. And I intend to raise several hundred more men—ideally a thousand troops here in Marinduque."

He looked at me for a moment, his thoughts wandering, then turned his gaze back to the road. "So... you really are serious about fighting the Americans."

"I am," I said.

---

We entered the town proper just as night began to fall—the time when the streets were usually quiet and empty. But the townsmen had been waiting for the return of the party from Kasily, and we arrived in Sta. Cruz to a crowd.

The town rivaled Boac in size, although the latter had more stone buildings, and its population was even greater.

When the people caught sight of the bound pirates, the crowd erupted. The town came alive. Hearing the commotion, more poured out of their homes, gathering on both sides of the street.

"Mabuhay si Don Suarez! Mabuhay ang Sta. Cruz!" they chanted, praising the gobernadorcillo and hailing their town—not the Republic.

Unlike in Mogpog, this welcome was spontaneous, louder, and more heartfelt. Yet I couldn’t help but feel conflicted. It seemed they believed Señor Suarez had led the men to victory, while we were merely a supporting act.

And they had no idea who I was. Before leaving for Mogpog, I had changed out of my khaki uniform into my rayadillo. To them, I was just another officer.

The soldiers didn’t look too pleased either, but it wasn’t the time to argue—we were all too tired.

The fanfare ended once we reached the town center. Don Suarez urged the townspeople to continue the celebrations tomorrow and to let us rest.

He then offered me accommodations in his private residence. Unlike the gobernadorcillo in Boac, the mayors of the other towns did not live in the government buildings. The presidencia municipal was just large enough for their offices.

"Capitan Madrigal—was he offered accommodations elsewhere?" I asked when I noticed Pedro and hadn’t followed us, instead walking with the train of soldiers down another road.

I had planned to speak with him privately and ask him to expand on his earlier report. I’d likely be meeting the principalia tomorrow, and I needed a better understanding of the political landscape.

"I offered to host him and his nephew in my house," said Don Suarez, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "But I don’t know, Don Martin... I think I may have offended him. They chose to stay with the soldiers on the second day."

That was strange. Pedro wasn’t the type to be easily offended. More likely, he was frustrated with the principales’ reaction rather than anything the gobernadorcillo had done.

"Would you excuse me, Don Suarez? I’d like to check up on my brother-in-law," I said, nudging my horse forward and turning around.

I took the other road that led away from the town center.

I had to ride along the length of the two-man column. With the fifteen men I had brought with me, the force now numbered forty. The prisoners were positioned in the middle, sandwiched between twenty soldiers in the front and twenty at the rear.

I caught up to him in a quiet corner of town, near the edge where the dirt road ended and the forest began. There were no houses—just two large storehouses that reeked of copra.

It was dark, and the sound of marching boots masked my horse’s hooves. Pedro didn’t notice me until I dismounted and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked surprised.

"Don Martin... why are you here?" he asked.

"That should be my question," I said, glancing around at the storehouses. Lorenzo and the soldiers were forcing the pirates into one of the buildings. "It’s a good place to keep the prisoners—out of town and spacious enough for thirty-six men."

I then looked at the rest of the soldiers. "But why bring everyone here?"

"Because this is where the soldiers usually sleep, Don Martin," he said, giving me a weak smile. "We are not exactly welcomed. They didn’t even bother to remove the copra—or give us rags for blankets. I had to dip into my own purse just to buy food for the men."

He looked away, then added quietly, "I can’t enjoy a well-cushioned bed while the soldiers sleep on cold stone floors."