Brave Enough
Cornelius woke to the sounds of his companions packing. “What’s going on?” He asked, bleary eyed and slow as he fumbled for his glasses.
“We’re leaving,” Watt said, offering them to him.
Cornelius quickly took them and slid them on, his fatigue clearing in a rush. “What? Why?”
Watt glanced at Severino, who said, “I think it’s best we continue on our journey.”
They both looked as if they hadn’t slept a wink last night, and Cornelius felt the same even though he didn't remember waking at all. “But I—”
“Cornelius,” Watt said softly. “Ant?nio is getting the mules ready.”
“Okay.” Cornelius sighed. “Okay, give me a moment.”
Cornelius didn’t bother changing his clothes, and it didn’t appear the other men had either.
He hadn’t unpacked much last night, so it didn’t take long for him to get ready to go.
After relieving himself he stuffed his .
38 in his belt, then slung his pack on his back.
He groaned a little beneath its weight, unable to restrain the noise.
Thankfully no one seemed to notice. He’d been looking forward to resting his leg for a few days, but he trusted in Watt and Severino.
They were out the door within minutes. Dawn was merely a threat on the horizon, and the morning was remarkably quiet.
The moon, reduced to its last quarter, was diminishing in the west. Even the birds only had the smallest bit to say, crying only every and now then. Enough to be heard, but not located.
They met Ant?nio at the lean to, where he had the mules all tacked up and ready to go.
As Cornelius burdened his beast with gear, he ran the events of last night through his mind over and over.
He winced, remembering his own part in things.
He probably shouldn’t have antagonized a man that was likely a smuggler, despite the man’s protests otherwise.
He was too sharp and ambitious, too well off in an area where people struggled if they didn’t pay off the tax man.
But maybe he truly wasn’t, and Cornelius had offended him.
Oh, and there was that whole damn business with Watt and Nina and the mysterious letter, and the bizarre way Galv?o had looked at him after that.
“Zut alors,” Cornelius swore under his breath, and mounted his mule.
Ant?nio led the way. Cornelius’ walked between Severino and Watt, the same single file formation and order they usually took when coming across unfamiliar and unsteady ground.
They slipped across the yard and away from the main house, towards the surrounding untamed bush in a north easterly direction.
The ground was wet, but it was only grass and dirt. Nothing they couldn't handle.
“Leaving so soon, amigos?” Hermenegildo Galv?o asked.
Cornelius turned abruptly in his seat and was subsequently met with a view of Watt’s broad shoulders, and his horse’s ass.
Watt had an arm raised, his revolver in hand.
Over his shoulder, Cornelius could see Senhor Galv?o standing by the palm tree at the corner of the house, a rifle slung over his shoulder and his hand on the muzzle of the gun.
He beheld a non threatening posture and a smile that seemed …
pitying, or condescending. Cornelius couldn’t tell which.
In Portuguese, Senhor Galv?o said, “You can put the gun down, soldier. I heard a racket and came to see what was what.”
Cornelius glanced back at Severino, who was stiff as a board with a hand on his own gun.
He hadn’t unholstered it yet, though. Ant?nio frowned, watching the whole affair.
Senhor Galv?o slowly turned, showing his back to Watt as he rested his rifle against the tree trunk.
Watt didn’t relax, in fact when Senhor Galv?o raised his hands in surrender, Watt stiffened further.
“I hope my hospitality has not offended you,” Senhor Galv?o said, his brows pinching in confusion.
“Watt,” Severino said quietly. “Put down the gun.”
A few seconds passed, then Watt did as he was asked. He slowly holstered it, and Senhor Galv?o smiled. Severino called, “We are eager to reach the Post, and are greatly rested. We did not want to impose on you any more than we already have.”
“Nonsense, it is no trouble.” Senhor Galv?o approached, waving a hand. He closed the distance between them. “But I understand, the waits for no one. Tell me, will you visit on your way back through?” He directed this last bit at Cornelius and Watt.
Watt said nothing, so Cornelius said, “Of course.”
Senhor Galv?o extended a hand to Cornelius first, staring him square in the eye as they shook. He said, “I want to hear all about your adventure, and what you find. I shall live through you, so to speak.”
Cornelius nodded, shaking with as much firm pressure as he’d received. “I look forward to it, senhor.”
They said farewell and turned their back on Hermenegildo Galv?o.
Soon the estancia became nothing but a distant unsettling memory, but Cornelius still felt eyes on him.
The feeling didn’t go away, no matter how many miles they put behind them.
No one spoke, not until Watt called for a break in the early afternoon.
He dismounted and said, “I’ve got to stop. ”
Severino glanced back at the way they’d come, then nodded. “Okay.”
Cornelius was grateful for the reprieve, but he didn’t want to stop for long.
His leg ached fiercely, and he had a feeling that it would hurt thrice as much after getting a taste of rest. He dismounted and stretched his leg out, then took a long drink of water from his canteen.
He looked between Watt, Severino, and Ant?nio as they did the same.
Tension was thick between them, and Cornelius couldn’t take it any more.
To Watt, he said, “Are you going to tell me what the fuck that was all about?”
Severino’s thick eyebrows flew up, and Ant?nio watched on with a mild expression of interest. Watt’s cheeks flushed and he said, “Happy to, right after you explain why you thought goading a smuggler was a brilliant idea.”
“I wasn’t goading him, I—” Cornelius gestured vaguely. Honestly, he didn’t know what the hell had gotten into him last night. He’d seen a fire, and wanted to pour gasoline on it. He couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, for he hadn’t drank any. Maybe it’d been better if he had.
Watt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, he certainly didn’t like it.” He shifted his attention to Severino and said, “I’m sorry. We should have listened to you. It—it wasn’t worth it.”
Cornelius folded his arms tight across his chest and cut in before Severino could respond. He said, “Kind of late to say that now. What was in the letter, Watt?”
Watt went to scratch at his neck, then thought better of it and dropped his hand.
“I—” He shook his head, mouth opening and closing a few times.
This was ridiculous, they were supposed to be a team, a team that was on the same page.
Cornelius had a sudden urge to hit Watt, and it was so fierce that he had to turn away.
He said, “Forget it,” and stalked off a short ways, lighting a cigarette as he went.
Damn Watt for keeping secrets. Damn Severino for being right, and damn Ant?nio for …
well. Cornelius didn’t know what for, but fuck it all.
He was tired and sore, and he wasn’t too proud to realize he was being an asshole, had been for some time now.
He allowed his anger to rage until the cigarette burnt out, then he stubbed the stick against his boot and jammed the butt into his pocket.
He drew in a great breath, then made the short trip back to his companions.
They were all taking a smoke break of their own, and Watt gently tapped out his pipe as Cornelius approached.
Watt frowned, and it looked as if words were on the tip of his tongue. But a couple of moments passed, and he said nothing.
Cornelius shifted his gaze to Severino and Ant?nio. In Portuguese, he asked, “Do you think he will follow us?”
Severino puffed on his pipe, then sighed and replied in kind. “I don’t know. He has no claim to the land Joaquim is working, but …”
Ant?nio said, “When has that stopped men?”
Cornelius removed his glasses and ran a hand over his face.
After recomposing himself, he looked between Severino and Ant?nio and said, “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and that I …
” Cornelius glanced at Watt. “I antagonized him. I don’t know what got into me.
I just—” Cornelius waved a hand. “I don’t know, there’s something about him. ”
Severino smiled gently, and it reminded Cornelius of Papa after an ‘I told you so’ moment. Not cruel or satisfied, but … Cornelius didn’t know, he couldn’t think of the word for it. Compassionate? Understanding?
Ant?nio adjusted his hat and shrugged. “He will be looking for you, not me.”
Watt chuckled. Ant?nio grinned, and then Cornelius and Severino were smiling too. Watt clapped Cornelius on the shoulder. “Ready to keep going?”
Cornelius nodded. “Yes.”
They made camp in the abandoned Bacairy village that Fawcett had once stayed in, situated near the Paranatinga and less than a day’s walk from the Post. Exhaustion and nerves was a common denominator within the group, even cool Ant?nio twitched at nearly every unexpected noise.
There had been no followers, or at least none that they could hear or see.