Chapter 4 — Winds of Revolution
But it wasn’t only the weather that felt more intense.
There was something different in the air.
A restlessness.
An expectation.
As if the land itself were waiting for something inevitable.
At Santa Vitória Ranch, the men kept working as usual. Cattle still had to be driven. Fences still had to be mended. The salting houses kept up their production.
Life went on.
But behind that appearance of normalcy, deep changes were taking shape.
Meetings at the great house grew more frequent.
Riders arrived in the night.
Left before dawn.
Spoke in low voices.
Exchanged documents.
Studied maps.
Avoided the presence of strangers.
Even so, rumors spread quickly.
The hands talked about it by the fire.
Cattle drovers carried news from one ranch to the next.
Merchants repeated what they’d heard in the villages.
Everyone spoke of the same thing.
Revolution.
One particularly hot afternoon, Bento was working near the main corral when he noticed a great deal of activity in front of the great house.
Several horses stood tied.
Armed men talked in clusters.
Among them were faces well known in the region.
Large landowners.
Military men.
Local politicians.
Ant?nio Maciel came over.
“Today’s an important day.”
“How do you know?”
“Heard it from one of the foremen. Sounds like they’re about to make a decision.”
“What decision?”
The old hand gave him a knowing look.
“About the war.”
Bento felt a chill run down his spine.
Until then, it had all seemed distant.
Rumors.
Talk.
Speculation.
But now it was starting to feel real.
Very real.
That same night, Colonel Anselmo gathered his managers and foremen.
His expression was grave.
Resolved.
Silence fell as he began to speak.
“Events have reached a point of no return.”
No one interrupted.
“The province must defend its interests. We cannot go on accepting decisions forced on us by men who know nothing of our reality.”
Some nodded.
Others said nothing.
“I will support the movement.”
The words echoed through the hall.
Even those who had already guessed his decision felt the weight of that announcement.
The colonel went on.
“Resources will be needed. Horses. Supplies. Money.”
“And men.”
That last word hung in the air.
Everyone understood at once what it meant.
Men.
Soldiers.
Fighters.
The war had stopped being a possibility.
It was beginning.
The news spread quickly across the ranch.
The next day, the hands talked of nothing else.
Some showed excitement.
Others, worry.
Many didn’t know quite what to think.
Bento watched it all in silence.
His main concern wasn’t politics.
It was Isabel.
Because he knew the war would change everything.
Perhaps destroy any hope of a future together.
Or perhaps open unexpected doors.
There was no way to know.
That afternoon, Isabel asked to meet him at the old fig tree.
When Bento arrived, he found her on edge.
Worry showed plainly in her eyes.
“My father’s confirmed everything.”
“I know.”
She lowered her head.
“I overheard him talking with some of the visitors. They’re speaking of mobilization. Of combat. Of troops.”
Bento sat down beside her.
“It seems there’s no stopping it now.”
“Are you afraid?”
He thought for a moment.
“Yes.”
She raised her eyes.
“Afraid of the war?”
“No.”
“Then of what?”
“Of losing you.”
The words struck Isabel deeply.
She took his hand.
“You won’t lose me.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise I’ll never stop loving you.”
The wind stirred her hair.
The silence between them grew heavy with feeling.
“And if you’re called to fight?”
The question finally surfaced.
The one they had both been avoiding.
Bento looked out at the horizon.
“Then I’ll go.”
“Even if you don’t want to?”
“Men like me rarely get to choose.”
Sadness settled over her face.
Because she knew it was true.
The great landowners decided.
The ranch hands obeyed.
It had always been that way.
Days later, the revolution finally broke out.
News arrived quickly.
Skirmishes.
Troop movements.
Strategic positions seized.
The whole province seemed to boil over.
From that moment on, no one could pretend nothing was happening.
The war was real.
And Colonel Anselmo threw himself into it with the full weight of his influence.
Resources began flowing out.
Horses were set aside.
Weapons purchased.
Wagons loaded with supplies left the ranch.
The fortune built over decades now fed the revolutionary effort.
But money alone wasn’t enough.
Soon came the call for men.
One gray morning, every worker on the ranch was summoned to gather in front of the sheds.
Bento arrived alongside Ant?nio Maciel and the other hands.
Tension showed on every face.
No one knew exactly what was coming.
The colonel appeared on horseback.
Imposing.
He looked over the men for a long moment.
Then began to speak.
His words were firm.
Patriotic.
He spoke of freedom.
Of justice.
Of the province’s future.
Many listened closely.
Others simply waited for what would come next.
And then it came.
“We need volunteers.”
Silence fell over the yard.
“The revolution needs brave men. Men willing to fight. Men capable of defending this land.”
Some stepped forward.
Others stood still.
Bento watched.
Thought it over.
Felt the full weight of the decision.
Then, suddenly, something occurred to him.
If this war would truly decide the future of the province, perhaps it could also decide his own fate.
Perhaps a simple ranch hand could become something more.
Perhaps he could earn respect.
Honor.
A better standing.
Perhaps.
He looked at the colonel.
Then at the men beside him.
And he stepped forward.
Ant?nio Maciel followed.
Others came soon after.
The group of volunteers began to grow.
In that moment, Bento Fagundes was choosing a path with no way back.
When Isabel heard the news, her heart tightened.
Though she had expected it, hearing it confirmed was different.
Very different.
That night they met again.
Perhaps for the last time before he left.
The sky was thick with stars.
The stream mirrored the moonlight.
Everything seemed still.
But inside them, a storm was raging.
“So it’s true.”
“Yes.”
“When do you leave?”
“In a few days.”
The words felt like knives.
Every one of them.
Isabel fought to hold back her tears.
“Ten years. Twenty years. A whole lifetime. No one knows how long a war can last.”
Bento moved closer.
“Listen to me.”
She raised her eyes.
“I’ll come back.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I’ll come back.”
The conviction in his voice was striking.
“And when I do…”
He stopped himself.
As though gathering his courage.
“When I come back, I won’t come back only as a ranch hand.”
Isabel understood at once.
He was speaking of the future.
Of the impossible dream.
Of the hope that still remained.
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Even if it takes long?”
“Even if it takes years.”
“Even if everyone tells you to give up?”
“Even then.”
A tear slipped down her face.
Bento wiped it away, gently.
It was the first time they had allowed themselves such closeness.
The world around them fell away.
There was only the two of them.
And the promise they made that night.
A promise that would be tested by the war.
By distance.
By time.
And by fate.
In the distance, thunder rolled over the fields.
The first clouds were gathering on the horizon.
The winds of revolution had reached the pampa for good.
And nothing would ever be the same again.