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 her brow.
Hector’s tightening expression revealed his growing irritation at her effrontery. ‘I am not alone,’ he said. ‘I have the support of the rest of the council.’
‘Sheep,’ she muttered, loudly enough for those the comment was aimed at to hear.
‘That’s enough, Louisa,’ Sebastian said curtly.
Hector might have been fuming but he seemed unable to sustain his anger. His stare softened and, if anything, reflected a certain admiration and, perhaps, desire for the outspoken girl.
Victor took a deep breath and stepped decisively towards the group. ‘I am not a member of the council either, but I have a say too,’ he said in a raised voice.
Everyone looked towards this new intruder.
‘This matter is beyond the brigade leaders and council members alone,’ Victor continued. ‘We are all a part of the rebellion, every man, woman and child in this camp and the others. I am under Sebastian’s banner as your lieutenants are under yours. But Sebastian does not own me. We are not a conscript army marching at the behest of ambitious officers. We are individuals, egalitarians expressing our beliefs and willing to put our lives on the line for them. This is a critical time in our adventure and we all have the right to say what we believe.’
The speech was met by mixed reactions among the rebel leaders. Louisa did not hide her evident fondness for Victor.
‘And so what is it that you believe, Victor?’ Hector asked with more than a hint of contempt in his voice.
‘I do not believe that when you have your sword against the throat of your adversary you remove it in order to negotiate with him - certainly not with one like Neravista.’
‘But you can’t expect a straight answer from a man with a blade at his throat,’ the big brigade commander replied. ‘I believe it is time, not to give up our weapons but to keep them with due vigilance in our hands while we try to work something out. Neravista wants to discuss terms. We should give him the space to do so.’
‘Have you forgotten what kind of animal he is?’ Sebastian said, getting to his feet. ‘He has murdered thousands of our people, many of whom died at the hands of torturers such as his own brother. Those people lost their lives simply because they wanted a change, a fairer, more just alternative. We began this fight to remove Neravista. But all you want is to join him. Do that and you will only share the blame for the blood he has on his hands.’
‘Be very careful, Sebastian,’ Hector growled.
‘There is no negotiating with Neravista!’ Sebastian insisted. ‘He has to be destroyed. And we cannot allow another dictator like him to take power. We have to wipe this country’s political slate clean. We must begin again. We will build a government based on liberal democracy. Freedom. That cannot be negotiated with Neravista. To him, the words “liberal” and “democracy” are like a crucifix to a vampire. He will fight to the death of everyone in this country to hold on to his power. He has no choice. He knows he will die otherwise.’
Most of the rebel leaders paused for thought at this. One of them, sitting beside Hector, whispered in his ear.
Hector looked at Stratton. ‘Who is that man?’ he boomed. ‘Since when are strangers invited to listen in on our council meetings?’
‘He works for Steel,’ Victor said.
‘Why is he here?’
Victor was about to speak when Hector interrupted him. ‘Let him speak for himself.’
All stares focused on Stratton. ‘I’m just the delivery boy,’ he said.
‘Ah. The weapons,’ Hector surmised.
‘He’s our guest,’ Victor said. ‘There’s no need for this.’
‘I know why you brought these weapons here, Sebastian. Not to destroy Neravista’s army but to destroy this opportunity for peace. That decision was made by you and you alone. Is that the kind of liberal democracy you are fighting for, Victor? I’m beginning to wonder if we might not just be exchanging one Neravista for another.’
‘How dare you?’ Louisa snapped, stepping forward aggressively.
Her father put an arm out to halt her.
Hector was aware that he had gone too far and directed his ire elsewhere. ‘Leave,’ he said to Stratton.
‘Stay where you are,’ said Victor.
Stratton was rapidly growing uncomfortable with the situation. He did not like the way things were heading.
‘Don’t dare to counter my command,’ Hector shouted at Victor. He looked at Stratton. ‘Get out of this country,’ he growled at him.
Stratton did not move, more out of indecision than stubbornness. Lines were clearly being drawn in the sand and whoever he obeyed would score a point. Right then, he felt like siding with Sebastian but he reckoned he should leave his options wide open. The only thing he was certain of was his regret at not getting out earlier.
‘You either leave on your own or I will have you tied behind a mule and dragged,’ Hector said, taking a step from the table towards him. Several of his men moved their hands to their pistols, staring malevolently at Stratton.
The Englishman had suddenly become a political football in this overheated debate. Since he was not one of the rebels his death could be an acceptable symbolic insult to the Sebastian faction that no one would actually be obliged to avenge. Stratton thought of his M4 resting on the pack behind him and won - dered which way he should run when he grabbed it.
‘He is our guest,’ Victor repeated defiantly, straightening his back. ‘You will stop this childish bullying.’ His determination to stand up to Hector was clear for all to see.
Hector was a short-tempered bear who was unused to being disobeyed and Victor’s attitude served only to enrage him. He reached beneath his jacket and took out a glistening machete. ‘You dare to give me orders, and in front of the council! I’ll show you what I think of your guest,’ he said, striding towards Stratton. ‘Run, little dog, or I’ll cut you in two.’
Stratton appeared to have only one ally and it looked as if he was not going to be enough. The Englishman watched the big man step closer, his mind racing through his very limited number of choices. If he stood his ground and defended himself he would lose whatever sympathy the others might have for him. If he took off, their hostile feelings might not be intense enough for them to want to pursue him. It was a case of saving his skin or his pride. Staying alive was the wiser choice and he decided that if he could depart at a walking pace it might at least leave him some pride. He raised his hands in a soothing gesture and was about to step back when Victor stepped in front
