thought she suffered from the classic syndrome, a daughter wanting to be like a son to her father. But it’s not the case. She’s a perfect woman. When she returned from abroad Sebastian was happy to see her . . . at first. Then she told him she was staying. It was completely against his wishes but that woman does not take orders from anyone, not even from Sebastian. She told him she had completed her education, as he had wanted, and that he was no longer going to rule her life.’
A smile formed on Victor’s craggy face once again but it faded as darker thoughts clouded his mind. ‘He’s right, though. These are not good times. Not that they were ever great. But they are worse than ever now. She should not be here. She will become a pawn in this game. She is Sebastian’s only weakness. I suppose it’s fortunate that Hector is in love with her. He’s rash. But she mellows him. Not enough, perhaps, as you saw last night. In some ways I feel bad for him too. He loved Sebastian, admired him above all men. Hector would not go against Sebastian and certainly not against Louisa for any other reason than his political convictions. He would like to convince her even more than Sebastian that what he is doing is the best for the people, and for them both.’
Stratton was beginning to understand some of the complications. They fascinated him. Louisa fascinated him. ‘What’s his story?’ Stratton asked.
‘Sebastian’s?’
‘He looks more like an aristocrat than a general.’
‘He comes from a long line of both.’
‘Did he fall out with Neravista?’
‘Most of the aristos in this country stand alongside Neravista. Sebastian is one of the few who went against him. Like many Latin American countries this one is ruled by the landowners. Most of the wealth and all of the power is controlled by a small group of people. By turning against Neravista, Sebastian was following a long line of noble rebels in his own family. His grandfather lost out in a rebellion against Franco in Spain before the Second World War. Sebastian doesn’t want that failure to run in the family.’ Victor checked his watch. ‘He wants to see you.’
Stratton looked at the Frenchman. ‘Why?’
‘Maybe he wants to talk you into staying. I don’t know. He’s more pragmatic than Louisa. When you’re in a fight, make friends with fighters, no matter what their motive.’
Stratton was getting bored with the endless insinuations that he fought only for money. But it was obvious that the rebels had fixed views about him and nothing was going to change them. He had no fears that Sebastian was going to talk him into staying, not even for another day. He was leaving the camp at the end of the day’s training and that was final. Even if it was dark by the time he left.
He was about to set off when Victor stopped him.
‘Tell me something. Be honest with me. Do we seem foolish to you?’
Stratton was not sure exactly what the Frenchman meant.
‘You must have come across people like us before. I would understand if you find us amusing.’
‘I’ve never done anything like this before.’
‘You don’t look new to this kind of work.’
‘What I mean is, I’ve never delivered arms to a bunch of freedom fighters before.’
‘What kind of things do mercenaries do these days?’
Once again Stratton ignored the label that Victor was trying to pin on him. ‘There’s nothing foolish about fighting for political change. It’s dying for it that doesn’t make any sense to me.’
Victor nodded. ‘Spoken like a true mercenary.’
Stratton shook his head wearily and walked off up the slope.
Sebastian was stroking the horse and speaking softly to it as Stratton arrived and stopped a few paces away.
‘What do you think of him . . . my horse?’ Sebastian asked.
‘It’s a beautiful animal.’
‘Are you familiar with horses?’
‘No.’
‘But you have instincts. You’re a warrior. That puts you closer than ordinary men to animals like this. Tell me what you see in him.’
Stratton studied the animal before stepping up to the fence and reaching out to touch it. The horse did not move as Stratton stroked its cheek.
‘Kindred spirits, as I said. He comes from warrior stock himself.’
The horse turned its head slightly to look at Stratton. It was a powerful and stalwart-looking beast. ‘I see pride. Dignity. He seems content.’
The old man nodded. ‘He’s a true white, as resolute as they come. There has always been a white in