Republic Reborn: Against the Stars and Stripes-Chapter 81: Bruises

I woke up being shaken by Isabela.

Seeing her alarmed face, I sprang from the cushion and scanned the surroundings.

It was still night. The lamp on the table remained the brightest thing in the room. Through the gaps in the window, I saw only darkness.

There was no one else but the two of us.

"What’s wrong, hija?" I focused on her. She looked freshly woken but neither sick nor in pain.

"It’s Vicente... he’s knocking outside," she told me.

I furrowed my brow. I remembered how she was blushing last night.

My still-groggy mind immediately conjured a theory. What if something had happened between them in my room—something that happened nightly—and Vicente had simply forgotten I had returned, demanding entrance to continue it?

But my indignation lasted only a moment. What I heard next filled me with terrible shame for ever doubting the two of them.

"Heneral!" Vicente knocked again, clearly looking for me.

"What is it, and why couldn’t it wait until morning?" I called out.

"It’s Don Contreras’ grandson... he’s been caught."

That was news. Colonel Abad must have finally succeeded. But how could he have done it without force? And why did it require my immediate attention?

My heart began to race as my ears adjusted and picked up the other sounds—a low murmur from a crowd below.

I left the bed at once and moved to the door.

Vicente stood outside in a crumpled uniform. His buttons were uneven, and his holster wasn’t tightly fitted. The news must have come to him just as suddenly.

"What’s the matter?" I asked, then walked toward the window in the sala to glimpse what was happening below.

"Severino Contreras was caught trying to flee toward the river, where a boat had been arranged for his escape," Vicente answered.

That was good news, but something still didn’t sit right.

The town had been roused. Townsfolk were opening windows and doors to peek out. From the street below, a furious crowd holding torches was being held back by Dimalanta and the escolta.

I looked back at Vicente. This should have been a moment of satisfaction. But his face was troubled.

"Did something happen, Vicente?" I asked sternly.

"Severino... he was brought here bleeding and beaten."

He was only supposed to be detained, not punished—he hadn’t even been tried.

"And how did this happen? Why didn’t Colonel Abad stop it? This will make things worse." I palmed my hair in frustration. All that training was supposed to instill discipline, only for them to make a blunder like this.

"No, Heneral... he wasn’t caught in Balanacan. It wasn’t Colonel Abad’s men who apprehended him," Vicente said. "...or any of our soldiers."

My face twisted in confusion. I slightly shook my head.

"He was caught in Tabigue. The villagers there recognized him and tried to apprehend him."

Tabigue—just the next barrio over. Closer, and in the opposite direction from Balagasan. We had been played by Don Contreras. But it seemed his plan had ultimately backfired.

Vicente swallowed nervously before continuing, "But he resisted, and all hell broke loose. The villagers dragged him here... his face swollen, bruises all over his body."

I immediately went downstairs.

The young man lay in the same bed, in the same cell Señor Grimaldo had once used. He was, as Vicente described, terribly beaten, unable even to sit up. The maids carefully washed his wounds, tears in their eyes at the pitiful state he was in.

I hadn’t known he was conscious. But when his eyes opened and saw me standing at the cell door, he tried to sit up—he couldn’t. His face contorted in pain.

"Don Martin..." he said, sobbing, his voice muffled by his swollen, violet lips, "I didn’t do it... I promise... I didn’t."

My heart ached at the sight, and my skin crawled. I walked out of the cell. Vicente followed me, he had reacted the same as the maids minus the tears.

"What do we... do next?" he scratched his head.

"Get the town doctor," I ordered. "And send word to Colonel Abad—have him and his men recalled here."

---

"He has bruises from his head to the soles of his feet. The deeper wounds will need stitching. I also suspect a couple of fractured ribs," said Señor Nicanor Soriano, standing just a meter outside the cell door. "But I believe he’ll pull through—assuming, of course, that he’s allowed to rest and I’m permitted to treat him."

I nodded. Señor Soriano had been the town doctor since his father’s death. Like most doctors of the time, he could hurt a patient as much as heal him. But when it came to physical trauma, I trusted him.

"Thank you, doctor. And yes, you’ll be allowed to tend to him regularly—and you will be paid for your services accordingly," I assured him.

He shook his head and sighed. I suspected he disapproved of what had happened and likely blamed me. I watched him walk away until he disappeared through the main door.

The crowd had been dispersed. Sargento Guzman and his men were fully deployed, setting up checkpoints around the Casa Real.

Peace and silence returned—but I knew it was only the calm before the storm.

Once the sun rose over the horizon, the town would be in chaos.

I would rather face the pirates again than what awaited me in the morning.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, unaware I was starting to drift off, when I heard the sound of hurried footsteps. I stood up straight, wiping my mouth of the drool.

Dimalanta appeared at the far end of the corridor and turned toward me at once.

"There’s someone here for you, Heneral," he said.

"Has Colonel Abad arrived?" I asked. If I was to maintain order, I would need his men.

He shook his head. My chest tightened.

"Is it Don Contreras?" I furrowed my brows. But that would not make sense.

"No, it’s not, Heneral. It’s Señora Alcantara... and she looks real upset."