Amelia said, "What's our reason for being here?"

"We meet Rudi Calvo on the road, he ask why don't we come along, visit the famous Castillo de Atars."

"But will they let us in?"

"The Guardia usually don't speak to you," Yaro said, "unless they give an order, tell you what to do. You ask a question, they may not bother to answer. If they do, it will be in a bored way of speaking, saying no more than they have to. I've been waiting for this day," Yaro said.

He seemed in control but anxious. His English was good. Amelia saw a pleasant-looking young man in his mid-twenties, no doubt educated. A machete hung in a scabbard from his saddle.

"There is one sentry at the gate, inside," Yaro said, "in the sally port that's like a tunnel through the wall. Most of the time he sits in there in the shade, between the bridge and the inside door. And most of the time the door is open, so you can see the parade grounds in there. If the sentry stops us, stay in the sally port, even if he shouts at you to get out, and let me speak to him."

Rudi led now, taking them along the street to the fortress, the wooden drawbridge hanging by a pair of iron chains: Rudi, Fuentes, Amelia, and Yaro leading the two riderless horses. They clattered over the drawbridge and were in the sally port, got this far before the sentry stepped into the dim enclosure, came through a door in the inner gate and began swatting at the horses and shouting at them to get out, leave this place or he'd throw them into dungeons. Now Rudi was trying to talk to him, explain why they were here. Only Yaro dismounted.

Amelia, from her horse, looked down at Yaro and then at the sentry, the Guardia taller than Yaro, heavier, his face flushed, a Mauser carbine slung from his shoulder, the sentry turning then to slam the inner door of the sally port closed. And now Amelia watched Yaro step away from his horse and saw the machete in his hand, though she didn't see him draw it from the scabbard, Yaro holding it against his leg as he moved through the horses toward the sentry who was still shouting, waving his arms and slapping at the horses, not looking at Yaro, not seeing him raise the machete, Yaro taking it across his body in two hands and now the Guardia saw him and tried to turn away and snatch the Mauser from his shoulder, use it to block the machete, but he was too late. Yaro swung the blade at the side of the man away from the Mauser and Amelia saw it bite into the man's shoulder and saw blood, saw the blade hack at the man's neck and continue hacking, the man going down and Yaro over him working hard, hacking until the man on the ground didn't move and all noise in the dim sally port seemed to stop. No shouting, no one speaking, until Amelia heard Fuentes say, "Listo?" And heard him say, "Girl, are you ready? Get down." Fuentes and Calvo had dismounted and were handing their reins to Yaro. Fuentes said to her now, "You want to save the cowboy and the marine?" His voice calm. "Isn't it why we came?"

Amelia said, "I'm scared to death."

Fuentes nodded. "Of course."

She said, "I've never been so scared in my life."

"You become more afraid when you think you going to die," Fuentes said. "Listen, you want to go home, is all right, go. This doesn't have to be your war."

She said, "How do you keep from shaking?"

"Hold a gun in your hand, the pistol I put in your saddle bag. Listen, you see people killed before. In the hotel, the one who tried to shoot the cowboy, and the two at Benavides, the two innocent men Tavalera shot. Remember those two if you don't want to shake so much. Use what you have already seen to hold your anger where you can feel it and that way you don't become so scared. You want to be in this war, come with us."

Amelia stepped out of the saddle and got the pistol from the saddlebag, a Smith amp; Wesson. 44, the kind Ben Tyler had pulled out of his coat in the hotel bar, pointed it at the hussar officer and shot him dead, the scene in her mind with the one on the station platform at Benavides, the two frightened-to death innocent men who were part of the reason she was here.

Fuentes turned to open the door in the inner gate, then turned back to her to say, "Hold the pistol beneath your skirt."

Rudi crossed the parade grounds with purpose while Fuentes and Amelia took their time, sightseers looking up at the walls of weathered gray stone, parts of it worn black with age; tourists on a visit to Ataros. Yaro remained with the horses. They watched Rudi step into an open doorway and stand there. Approaching now, they heard him speaking in Spanish, Amelia understanding some of what she could hear. Fuentes said to her, "Telling them what he wants, to inspect the entire fortress. He asks is it all right with them, the ones he's talking to."

They would see them in a moment: four Guardia sitting at a table playing dominoes.

Rudi stepped through the doorway. Fuentes nudged Amelia to follow and there they were, only a few paces away, the four at the table with their blank expressions and big mustaches, three in shirtsleeves, one shirtless, suspenders over bare white skin, dark hair on his chest, another one wearing his hat, his military straw cocked down on his eyes, and the fourth one smoking a cigarette, holding it in the corner of his mouth as he stared at the visitors. Not one of the Guardia said a word.

Amelia glanced around the room: a good size but bare except for a stove, a pile of wood, a rack of Mauser carbines on one wall, a cupboard and the table where the Guardia sat. Fuentes was saying in Spanish, "Forgive us for intruding. I like to show my friend from America where I was a guest forty seven years ago, when I was a boy." And now Amelia wanted to say something, be part of this, say in a casual way she'd read about Ataros, the history of the place, and had always wanted to see it. With a smile. Wouldn't a sightseer be very polite and smile? Fuentes was telling now how he had been placed in stocks, the four Guardia looking at Amelia as they listened.

"On my back," Fuentes said, "locked in facing the sun and unable to move, not even to turn my head an inch." He looked past them into the room. "They used to keep the stocks in here, also fetters, balls and chains. Do you still use balls and chains?"

Not one of them answered him, maybe accepting what he was saying, maybe not.

"I was placed in the stocks out there," Fuentes said, turning his back to them to look out the door, "at midday. They told me by evening the sun would have burned through my eyes and I would be blind and out of my head. But you know what?" Fuentes said, starting to turn, "I was saved by a miracle He came around to face the men at the table bringing his revolver, an old-model Colt six-shooter, out of his suit coat.

The one with his chest bare said, "Old man, what are you thinking to do with that?"

Fuentes said, "I'm going to kill you with it," extended the revolver and shot the man in the middle of his chest, moved the gun and shot the one smoking a cigarette and the next one to him as this one tried to lunge away from the table. Rudi had his pistol in his hand and shot the one lunging and the fourth one also, the one wearing his hat who was directly in front of Rudi, Rudi touching his gun to the man's hat and shooting him, the straw catching fire, smoking; and it was done.

Amelia stood rigid, the gunfire ringing in her head, her hand through a slit in her skirt gripping the revolver. She heard Fuentes say, "What were you waiting for?"

She breathed in and out and said, "I didn't know you were going to shoot them."

"Oh?" Fuentes said. "You didn't? Listen to me. When you see the chance to kill Guardia, you don't stop and think about it, you kill them. Get your pistol out, little girl, or go home." Fuentes the insurgent speaking, no longer Fuentes the segundo.

Amelia watched him turn to the doorway, where Rudi was looking out at the yard. She brought the big pistol out of her skirt.