CHAPTER 28

AftertheplaneswentawayRobertJordanandPrimitivoheardthefiringstartandhisheartseemedtostartagainwithit.Acloudofsmokedriftedoverthelastridgethathecouldseeinthehighcountryandtheplaneswerethreesteadilyrecedingspecksinthesky.

They’veprobablybombedhelloutoftheirowncavalryandnevertouchedSordoandCompany,RobertJordansaidtohimself.Thedamnedplanesscareyoutodeathbuttheydon’tkillyou.

“Thecombatgoeson,”Primitivosaid,listeningtotheheavyfiring.Hehadwincedateachbombthudandnowhelickedhisdrylips.

“Whynot?”RobertJordansaid.“Thosethingsneverkillanybody.”

Thenthefiringstoppedabsolutelyandhedidnothearanothershot.LieutenantBerrendo’spistolshotdidnotcarrythatfar.

Whenthefiringfirststoppeditdidnotaffecthim.Thenasthequietkeptonahollowfeelingcameinhischest.Thenheheardthegrenadesburstandforamomenthisheartrose.Theneverythingwasquietagainandthequietkeptonandheknewthatitwasover.

Mariacameupfromthecampwithatinbucketofstewedharewithmushroomssunkenintherichgravyandasackwithbread,aleatherwinebottle,fourtinplates,twocupsandfourspoons.ShestoppedatthegunandladledouttwoplatesforAgustínandEladio,whohadreplacedAnselmoatthegun,andgavethembreadandunscrewedthehorntipofthewinebottleandpouredtwocupsofwine.

RobertJordanwatchedherclimbinglithelyuptohislookoutpost,thesackoverhershoulder,thebucketinonehand,hercroppedheadbrightinthesun.Heclimbeddownandtookthebucketandhelpedherupthelastboulder.

“Whatdidtheaviationdo?”sheasked,hereyesfrightened.

“BombedSordo.”

Hehadthebucketopenandwasladlingoutstewontoaplate.

“Aretheystillfighting?”

“No.Itisover.”

“Oh,”shesaidandbitherlipandlookedoutacrossthecountry.

“Ihavenoappetite,”Primitivosaid.

“Eatanyway,”RobertJordantoldhim.

“Icouldnotswallowfood.”

“Takeadrinkofthis,man,”RobertJordansaidandhandedhimthewinebottle.“Theneat.”

“ThisofSordohastakenawaydesire,”Primitivosaid.“Eat,thou.Ihavenodesire.”

Mariawentovertohimandputherarmsaroundhisneckandkissedhim.

“Eat,oldone,”shesaid.“Eachoneshouldtakecareofhisstrength.”

Primitivoturnedawayfromher.Hetookthewinebottleandtippinghisheadbackswallowedsteadilywhilehesquirtedajetofwineintothebackofhismouth.Thenhefilledhisplatefromthebucketandcommencedtoeat.

RobertJordanlookedatMariaandshookhishead.Shesatdownbyhimandputherarmaroundhisshoulder.EachknewhowtheotherfeltandtheysatthereandRobertJordanatethestew,takingtimetoappreciatethemushroomscompletely,andhedrankthewineandtheysaidnothing.

“Youmaystayhere,guapa,ifyouwant,”hesaidafterawhilewhenthefoodwasalleaten.

“Nay,”shesaid.“ImustgotoPilar.”

“Itisallrighttostayhere.Idonotthinkthatanythingwillhappennow.”

“Nay.ImustgotoPilar.Sheisgivingmeinstruction.”

“Whatdoesshegivethee?”

“Instruction.”Shesmiledathimandthenkissedhim.“Didyouneverhearofreligiousinstruction?”Sheblushed.“Itissomethinglikethat.”Sheblushedagain.“Butdifferent.”

“Gotothyinstruction,”hesaidandpattedheronthehead.Shesmiledathimagain,thensaidtoPrimitivo,“Doyouwantanythingfrombelow?”

“No,daughter,”hesaid.Theybothsawthathewasstillnotyetrecovered.

“Salud,oldone,”shesaidtohim.

“Listen,”Primitivosaid.“Ihavenofeartodiebuttoleavethemalonethus—”hisvoicebroke.

“Therewasnochoice,”RobertJordantoldhim.

“Iknow.Butallthesame.”

“Therewasnochoice,”RobertJordanrepeated.“Andnowitisbetternottospeakofit.”

“Yes.Buttherealonewithnoaidfromus—”

“Muchbetternottospeakofit,”RobertJordansaid.“Andthou,guapa,gettheetothyinstruction.”

Hewatchedherclimbdownthroughtherocks.Thenhesatthereforalongtimethinkingandwatchingthehighcountry.

Primitivospoketohimbuthedidnotanswer.Itwashotinthesunbuthedidnotnoticetheheatwhilehesatwatchingthehillslopesandthelongpatchesofpinetreesthatstretchedupthehighestslope.Anhourpassedandthesunwasfartohisleftnowwhenhesawthemcomingoverthecrestoftheslopeandhepickeduphisglasses.

Thehorsesshowedsmallandminuteasthefirsttworiderscameintosightonthelonggreenslopeofthehighhill.Thentherewerefourmorehorsemencomingdown,spreadoutacrossthewidehillandthenthroughhisglasseshesawthedoublecolumnofmenandhorsesrideintothesharpclarityofhisvision.Ashewatchedthemhefeltsweatcomefromhisarmpitsandrundownhisflanks.Onemanrodeattheheadofthecolumn.Thencamemorehorsemen.Thencametheriderlesshorseswiththeirburdenstiedacrossthesaddles.Thenthereweretworiders.Thencamethewoundedwithmenwalkingbythemastheyrode.Thencamemorecavalrytoclosethecolumn.

RobertJordanwatchedthemridedowntheslopeandoutofsightintothetimber.Hecouldnotseeatthatdistancetheloadonesaddleboreofalongrolledponchotiedateachendandatintervalssothatitbulgedbetweeneachlashingasapodbulgeswithpeas.Thiswastiedacrossthesaddleandateachenditwaslashedtothestirrupleathers.AlongsidethisonthetopofthesaddletheautomaticrifleSordohadservedwaslashedarrogantly.

LieutenantBerrendo,whowasridingattheheadofthecolumn,hisflankersout,hispointpushedwellforward,feltnoarrogance.Hefeltonlythehollownessthatcomesafteraction.Hewasthinking:takingtheheadsisbarbarous.Butproofandidentificationisnecessary.Iwillhavetroubleenoughaboutthisasitisandwhoknows?Thisoftheheadsmayappealtothem.Therearethoseofthemwholikesuchthings.ItispossibletheywillsendthemalltoBurgos.Itisabarbarousbusiness.Theplanesweremuchos.Much.Much.Butwecouldhavedoneitall,andalmostwithoutlosses,withaStokesmortar.Twomulestocarrytheshellsandamulewithamortaroneachsideofthepacksaddle.Whatanarmywewouldbethen!Withthefirepowerofalltheseautomaticweapons.Andanothermule.No,twomulestocarryammunition.Leaveitalone,hetoldhimself.Itisnolongercavalry.Leaveitalone.You’rebuildingyourselfanarmy.Nextyouwillwantamountaingun.

ThenhethoughtofJulián,deadonthehill,deadnow,tiedacrossahorsethereinthefirsttroop,andasherodedownintothedarkpineforest,leavingthesunlightbehindhimonthehill,ridingnowinthequietdarkoftheforest,hestartedtosayaprayerforhimagain.

“Hail,holyqueenmotherofmercy,”hestarted.“Ourlife,oursweetnessandourhope.Totheedowesendupoursighs,mourningsandweepingsinthisvalleyoftears—”

Hewentonwiththeprayerthehorses’hoovessoftonthefallenpineneedles,thelightcomingthroughthetreetrunksinpatchesasitcomesthroughthecolumnsofacathedral,andasheprayedhelookedaheadtoseehisflankersridingthroughthetrees.

HerodeoutoftheforestontotheyellowroadthatledintoLaGranjaandthehorses’hoovesraisedadustthathungoverthemastheyrode.Itpowderedthedeadwhoweretiedfacedownacrossthesaddlesandthewounded,andthosewhowalkedbesidethem,wereinthickdust.

ItwasherethatAnselmosawthemridepastintheirdust.

HecountedthedeadandthewoundedandherecognizedSordo’sautomaticrifle.Hedidnotknowwhattheponcho-wrappedbundlewaswhichflappedagainsttheledhorse’sflanksasthestirrupleathersswungbutwhen,onhiswayhome,hecameinthedarkontothehillwhereSordohadfought,heknewatoncewhatthelongponchorollcontained.Inthedarkhecouldnottellwhohadbeenuponthehill.ButhecountedthosethatlaythereandthenmadeoffacrossthehillsforPablo’scamp.

Walkingaloneinthedark,withafearlikeafreezingofhisheartfromthefeelingtheholesofthebombcratershadgivenhim,fromthemandfromwhathehadfoundonthehill,heputallthoughtofthenextdayoutofhismind.Hesimplywalkedasfastashecouldtobringthenews.AndashewalkedheprayedforthesoulsofSordoandofallhisband.Itwasthefirsttimehehadprayedsincethestartofthemovement.

“Mostkind,mostsweet,mostclementVirgin,”heprayed.

Buthecouldnotkeepfromthinkingofthenextdayfinally.Sohethought:IwilldoexactlyastheInglésaysandashesaystodoit.Butletmebeclosetohim,OLord,andmayhisinstructionsbeexactforIdonotthinkthatIcouldcontrolmyselfunderthebombardmentoftheplanes.Helpme,OLord,tomorrowtocomportmyselfasamanshouldinhislasthours.Helpme,OLord,tounderstandclearlytheneedsoftheday.Helpme,OLord,todominatethemovementofmylegsthatIshouldnotrunwhenthebadmomentcomes.Helpme,OLord,tocomportmyselfasamantomorrowinthedayofbattle.SinceIhaveaskedthisaidofthee,pleasegrantit,knowingIwouldnotaskitifitwerenotserious,andIwillasknothingmoreoftheeagain.

Walkinginthedarkalonehefeltmuchbetterfromhavingprayedandhewassure,now,thathewouldcomporthimselfwell.Walkingnowdownfromthehighcountry,hewentbacktoprayingforthepeopleofSordoandinashorttimehehadreachedtheupperpostwhereFernandochallengedhim.

“ItisI,”heanswered,“Anselmo.”

“Good,”Fernandosaid.

“YouknowofthisofSordo,oldone?”AnselmoaskedFernando,thetwoofthemstandingattheentranceofthebigrocksinthedark.

“Whynot?”Fernandosaid.“Pablohastoldus.”

“Hewasupthere?”

“Whynot?”Fernandosaidstolidly.“Hevisitedthehillassoonasthecavalryleft.”

“Hetoldyou—”

“Hetoldusall,”Fernandosaid.“Whatbarbariansthesefascistsare!WemustdoawaywithallsuchbarbariansinSpain.”Hestopped,thensaidbitterly,“Inthemislackingallconceptionofdignity.”

Anselmogrinnedinthedark.Anhouragohecouldnothaveimaginedthathewouldeversmileagain.Whatamarvel,thatFernando,hethought.

“Yes,”hesaidtoFernando.“Wemustteachthem.Wemusttakeawaytheirplanes,theirautomaticweapons,theirtanks,theirartilleryandteachthemdignity.”

“Exactly,”Fernandosaid.“Iamgladthatyouagree.”

Anselmolefthimstandingtherealonewithhisdignityandwentondowntothecave.