A Ballad of Love and Glory(50)
“Aye, one day, my brave fellas, it shall be so,” Maloney said.
They raised their clay mugs of pulque and drank a toast to the future of their beloved land. Riley noticed the worried look on Ximena’s face. “You don’t look too happy about your country’s independence.”
“Perdón. I wish freedom for your homeland, I do. But I now remember, four of our five leaders, they died… ejecutados.”
“Executed?” he said. “By firing squad?”
She nodded. “Yes, executed. They pay big price for freedom.”
“Freedom comes at a cost,” Little said.
“Aye, I would give up my own life to set our unhappy country free,” Riley said.
“A toast for Ireland’s freedom then,” Maloney said, raising his mug again. “And if die we must, then may we all die in Ireland and meet merrily in Heaven!”
The men raised their mugs and shouted, “Bás in éirinn!”
The bells began to toll, and Riley took his leave from his friends. He walked over to the sacristy, which was serving as the general’s headquarters, to take his place alongside the officers gathered by the cathedral. They stood at attention in front of the sacristy and watched as Ampudia was escorted out by his staff who were carrying torches. Riley and the other officers followed behind their commander in a parade that made its way to the center of the plaza where the troops and townspeople had congregated. The color guard led the way, and the military band played a battle song while civilians and soldiers alike saluted the flag as it passed. Once they arrived at the plaza, the tricolor was handed to Ampudia, who raised it high into the air and turned to address the crowd standing before him. Thousands more had flooded the streets and the balconies and rooftops of the surrounding buildings. He rang a bell several times, and a quiet descended upon the crowd as they waited for him to begin El Grito.
“?Mexicanos!” Ampudia yelled as loudly as he could. “?Vivan nuestros héroes que nos dieron paz y libertad! ?Viva Hidalgo! ?Viva Morelos! ?Viva Allende! ?Viva la independencia nacional! ?Viva México!”
The crowd cheered and shouted, “?Viva!” and “?Bravo!” again and again. Ampudia rang a bell, and soon, all the bells in the city—from the cathedral down to the smallest chapel—began to toll. Rockets were launched into the air and burst above them. Ampudia waved the flag from side to side as the band played another battle song, and the people sang as loud and proud as they could. Riley couldn’t take his eyes off the green, white, and red banner. By now he’d learned what the colors meant—the green for independence, the white for the purity of the Catholic faith, the red for unity, the eagle and the serpent for their Aztec heritage. He fancied what Ireland’s flag would one day look like—perhaps a tricolor banner as well, one made of the finest silk—with green for the land, white for the peace that would follow English rule, and pale blue for Saint Patrick. And in the center, perhaps a shamrock and the Harp of Erin. He hoped he would be there when the flag finally flew above Irish soil.
The general finished his speech, and the crowd cheered once again. Riley couldn’t understand all of the general’s remarks, but from the little he did grasp, he knew the commander spoke of protecting Monterrey at all costs. His speech aroused the people’s patriotism and fueled their enthusiasm for revenge and their desire for glory. The cathedral couldn’t fit everyone in the city, and so the priests came out to give mass in the open air. Thousands knelt and prayed, civilians and soldiers side by side. Riley loved the sound of their voices rising together to the very heavens, to ask God for His protection and His blessing in the battle to come.
* * *
After mass, a fandango was held in the main plaza. Gleams of moonlight shone through the palm trees, and torches and lights illuminated the whirl of figures spinning to the fiddles and guitars. Riley pushed through the throng until he finally spotted his men dancing away with the local women. He saw Maloney twirling Ximena round and round, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright with glee. Riley smiled at the delightful scene. He had never seen Maloney this happy. He had a light heel, and so did Ximena, dancing with the same indefatigable vigor she did everything else. Listening to the sounds of jollity, Riley knew this night was a gift to be treasured. The following day, they would go back to fretting about the war, but at least for this one moment, the music and laughter were a gentle shower washing away their worries of the coming strife.
A lively waltz began, and Maloney spotted Riley and waved him over. “There you are, lad, come and take my place. These old bones can’t keep up with my lovely partner. Off with ye and enjoy the music!”
Riley hesitated before he took Ximena in his arms, and guilt soon pricked him. Nelly loved to dance. He was as graceful as a sheep dancing on its hind legs, but she had always managed to pull him out to dance whenever there was a bagpipe or fiddle present. Ximena noticed his hesitation and smiled in understanding.
“We go sit?” She turned to walk away from the dance floor to the bench where Maloney waited.
Riley grabbed her elbow and said, “I’m not very good at this, but I’d like to try for a bit, if you don’t mind me steppin’ on ya?”
She laughed and came willingly into his arms. She didn’t make a fuss when he trod on her tiny feet or when they collided against other couples. He was too nervous to concentrate, whereas she was graceful and swaying like a nocturnal desert flower unfurling in the sultry night. He could feel the warmth of her body, see the delicate curve of her neck, the valley between her breasts peeking through the lace-trimmed ruffles of her white blouse, the torchlight casting a silver glow on her black plaited hair. He became warm and flushed, as if he’d eaten a handful of piquín peppers, and as she looked at him with her lovely honeyed eyes, the burning glow spread through his body from the inside out. Forgive me, Nelly. He tried to recall what his wife looked like, and for a moment, just a brief moment, all he could see were the cold swirling mists that had enveloped her that cheerless morning he’d walked away. He’d turned to look back and seen nothing but white.