white-haired older man who was sitting at the opposite end of the table. The look in his eyes revealed a deep inner strength.
‘That’s Sebastian,’ Victor said.
Stratton studied the man. He looked the oldest in the group, the only man with white hair, but he was not frail. He was also the only one not wearing military-style clothing. But what really distinguished him from the others was an aura of clear superiority that was inherited, not learned. He had an aristocratic air about him that seemed quite out of place in this grubby jungle setting.
‘And you had no right to bring in these new weapons without consulting the council,’ Hector retorted. ‘Yes, I know about the rockets and special mines.’
‘We are still at war,’ Sebastian replied coolly. ‘It is each brigade leader’s duty to maintain armaments.’
‘It’s your timing that I am most concerned about. By bringing in these new arms now you are sending the wrong signal.’
‘I do not accept any terms offered by Neravista, therefore my signal remains the same as always.’
‘That is not your decision to make. We are five brigades held together by a democratic union. It is the council that makes the decisions, not any single member.’
‘We are not a democracy, Hector. Not yet. That is only our ambition.’
‘We have been fighting for peace and this is an opportunity to achieve it.’
The older man shook his head slowly. ‘We did not begin this fight for peace. We already had that. But it was Neravista’s kind of peace, where whoever threatened his dictatorship was imprisoned or murdered. It was peaceful only for those who did not challenge him. You are not going forwards, Hector. You’re throwing this struggle into full reverse.’
All eyes went to Hector as Sebastian’s words made their impact.
‘I want Neravista’s leadership dismantled now as much as I did when I began this fight,’ Hector countered, undeterred. ‘But it is time to change our strategy. We can still achieve our goals. For three years we’ve fought. Many have died. I don’t want to spend the next twenty years burying my people who’ve died in the fighting. There is more than one way to win this struggle.’
Stratton noticed out of the corner of his eye someone over at the entrance to what appeared to be the main cabin. A young woman in jeans and a leather jacket walked from it towards the group. Her long dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and she stopped behind Sebastian, near the table, where everyone noticed her. Hector was distracted momentarily by her arrival.
The glow from the fire revealed her youth as well as the noble confidence of her solemn expression. Stratton found her stunning to look at. But something else about her, apart from her beauty, struck him.
‘I warn you now,’ said Sebastian, speaking slowly and deliberately, ‘I will not be a part of this ridiculous parley. It’s an insult to everyone who has fought, and in particular those who have actually given their lives, for this struggle. And if you go ahead with it I will continue the fight without you.’
‘And I hand the warning back to you,’ Hector said, leaning forward on the table as if to enforce his point. ‘I will not allow you to destroy this opportunity.’
‘I always understood an opportunity to be a moment of favourable circumstances,’ the young woman said. Her voice was confident and clear. ‘While we fight Neravista there will always be the opportunity to talk.’
Victor smiled. ‘Sebastian’s daughter,’ he said softly, the pride in his voice unmistakable.
‘With all respect, Louisa,’ Hector said, ‘this is a meeting of the council. You are not a member.’
‘I can do what I want. I’m a rebel,’ she retorted.
Several of the men found the comment amusing, including Hector.
Louisa remained solemn in contrast. ‘My father provided you with opportunities greater than any that Neravista will ever give you. He began this revolution. You all followed him. He has always been the backbone of this great cause. Why is it that you no longer trust him?’
‘No one here denies Sebastian the respect he deserves. I will break the neck of anyone who does not show him any,’ Hector said, looking around darkly at the others to reinforce the threat. ‘But it is time for a change of direction. If Sebastian cannot see that then perhaps it is time for him to step back as . . . as our spiritual leader.’
‘What makes you think you are qualified to take his place?’ Louisa asked, a frown creasing