The manpower from the town proper arrived in Landi by mid-afternoon. It couldn’t be helped. Capitan Sadiwa had, in fact, acted on my orders without delay, but gathering the scattered recruits, briefing those who had been left behind, and locating the proper tools still took an hour or two.
To their credit, they immediately joined the others in the mud and muck as soon as they arrived, no complaints or hesitation. Don delos Santos was very pleased when I returned a little while later, having eaten and rested at Don Suarez’s residence.
Capitan Sadiwa was out in the fields himself, sleeves rolled up and getting dirty like everyone else. The officer cadets and NCO candidates coordinated closely with Don delos Santos’ assistants and directed their men with remarkable clarity. I didn’t see Adan or Severino—likely, they were among those left behind to help oversee the town.
"I like these young men, Heneral," the juez said, beaming with satisfaction as he watched the dikes being dismantled and the ditches dug in precise, systematic rows. "Your training makes them faster, stronger... and very quick to follow orders."
"You are very welcome, Señor," I replied, smiling faintly. In truth, trained soldiers were overqualified for this kind of work. But they were also perfect for it. I remembered how, in Korea, our undermanned battalion of hungry, exhausted men dug over a mile of trenches in six hours. Of course, the fear of being caught in the open by advancing Norks had been a powerful motivator.
Still, the discipline and coordination ingrained in soldiers made them ideal for manual labor—efficient, uncomplaining, and cohesive.
By the time the sun dipped low on the horizon, the rice field by the road was ninety percent finished. An impressive feat, though I failed to fully appreciate it. Even if everything was done by tomorrow, we’d still need at least two days just for the drying. That would only leave Sunday—one day before Monday—to complete the construction of the stations.
Despite my concern, I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched Capitan Sadiwa organize the withdrawal from the fields. His men fell into formation, leaving the area in an orderly march back to town. In contrast, the civilian laborers—tired, scattered, and muddy—headed off in the opposite direction, clearly outclassed in every way by the disciplined recruits.
Perhaps they were beginning to wonder if we still needed them. And indeed, we did. I would do anything to shorten the timetable—even by just a bit.
"Where will you stay for the night, Don delos Santos?" I asked as the field grew quiet again. The soldiers were gone, leaving only my escorts and the juez’s assistants behind. A V-formation of birds squawked overhead, and the frogs and crickets sang from all corners of the darkening field. We were, unmistakably, in the middle of nowhere.
Don delos Santos mounted his horse. "I have a friend in Buyabod—Carlos Ojeda. You may know him. He’s been hosting me the past couple of days. If you’ve nothing arranged yet, I could—"
"No, it’s alright," I cut in gently. "A residence has been arranged for me in Kasily." I walked over and stroked the mane of his horse. "I actually thought of inviting you over."
"I would have to inform Señor Ojeda..."
"It’s alright, Don delos Santos. Take care."
---
I was already beginning to regret accepting Don Suarez’s offer. Upon traveling back to Kasily, I realized it wasn’t actually closer to Landi than the town proper—if anything, it was a little farther, with a rougher road that slowed us down.
Still, I hadn’t been able to say no to Don Suarez. Maybe I didn’t want to. I’d been meaning to check on the village and visit the old man’s residence for quite some time.
But it was just as awkward as I’d feared. By the time we arrived, it was already early evening. Our mounted, uniformed trio drew attention from the villagers, but no one seemed to recognize me in the darkness. The awkwardness would be complete, I thought, if we reached the old man’s doorstep only to find that no one was home—or worse, that no one was prepared to entertain guests.
The bahay-na-bato still looked lived in. The warm light of lamps slipped through the narrow gaps in the windows.
I dismounted and approached the main doors. It was quiet inside—so quiet that I hesitated before knocking. Eventually, I raised my knuckles and rapped twice.
"Magandang gabi po?" I called softly.
There were faint footsteps, then some muted thuds. No immediate reply.
I knocked again.
This time, I heard rushed steps approaching. The door swung open suddenly, and my hand instinctively reached for an empty holster. If I’d had a sidearm, I might’ve drawn it. But I had left the old pinfire revolver beneath my desk—too outdated and unreliable for combat.
To my surprise, it was Don Suarez’s sister who stood at the doorway. She smiled when she saw me.
"Heneral... I’ve been waiting for you," she greeted.
I hadn’t expected her to be here. With the death of her father, I assumed she had already moved out. She looked thinner than before, and her eyelids were puffy—still in mourning, I supposed. It had been less than a month since the old man’s death. Understandable.
She must have been informed early, as she was already dressed to receive guests.
"Forgive us for intruding..." I said, removing my cap.
"Please come in," she said, stepping aside. "You’ve arrived just in time. Supper is almost ready."
We were led upstairs to the main sala. It resembled the one in the governor’s quarters in Boac—same shape, same size—but it was sparsely furnished. Perhaps she was indeed in the process of moving out.
She left the three of us seated at the table, where plates and utensils had already been set. When she returned, she brought an elderly maid with her, both carrying dishes covered with woven food covers. It seemed the two of them had been managing alone, so I motioned for one of the soldiers to help. They refused at first, but I insisted.
Soon, dinner was served.
The round table was a little too small for five people, but the senorita didn’t seem to mind. She sat beside me, visibly cheered by our presence.
As we ate she would not stop smiling and looking at my direction.
My coming there, after all, was not totally pointless. If I could be of any comfort, I would be willing to provide her company.