CHAPTER25

robertjordanlookedupatwhereprimitivostoodnowinhislookoutpost,holdinghisrifleandpointing.henoddedhisheadbutthemankeptpointing,puttinghishandtohisearandthenpointinginsistentlyandasthoughhecouldnotpossiblyhavebeenunderstood.

“doyoustaywiththisgunandunlessitissure,sure,surethattheyarecomingindonotfire.andthennotuntiltheyreachthatshrub,”robertjordanpointed.“doyouunderstand?”“yes.but—”

“nobut.iwillexplaintotheelater.igotoprimitivo.”

anselmowasbyhimandhesaidtotheoldman:

“viejo,staytherewithagustinwiththegun.”hespokeslowlyandunhurriedly.“hemustnotfireunlesscavalryisactuallyentering.iftheymerelypresentthemselveshemustletthemaloneaswedidbefore.ifhemustfire,holdthelegsofthetripodfirmforhimandhandhimthepanswhentheyareempty.”

“good,”theoldmansaid.“andlagranja?”

“later.”

robertjordanclimbedup,overandaroundthegraybouldersthatwerewetnowunderhishandsashepulledhimselfup.thesunwasmeltingthesnowonthemfast.thetopsofthebouldersweredryingandasheclimbedhelookedacrossthecountryandsawthepinewoodsandthelongopengladeandthedipofthecountrybeforethehighmountainsbeyond.thenhestoodbesideprimitivoinahollowbehindtwobouldersandtheshort,brownfacedmansaidtohim,“theyareattackingsordo.whatisitthatwedo?”

“nothing,”robertjordansaid.

heheardthefiringclearlyhereandashelookedacrossthecountry,hesaw,faroff,acrossthedistantvalleywherethecountryrosesteeplyagain,atroopofcavalryrideoutofthetimberandcrossthesnowysloperidinguphillinthedirectionofthefiring.hesawtheoblongdoublelineofmenandhorsesdarkagainstthesnowastheyforcedatanangleupthehill.hewatchedthedoublelinetoptheridgeandgointothefarthertimber.

“wehavetoaidthem,”primitivosaid.hisvoicewasdryandflat.

“itisimpossible,”robertjordantoldhim.“ihaveexpectedthisallmorning.”

“how?”

“theywenttostealhorseslastnight.thesnowstoppedandtheytrackedthemupthere.”

“butwehavetoaidthem,”primitivosaid.“wecannotleavethemalonetothis.thoseareourcomrades.”

robertjordanputhishandontheotherman’sshoulder.

“wecandonothing,”hesaid.“ifwecouldiwoulddoit.”

“thereisawaytoreachtherefromabove.wecantakethatwaywiththehorsesandthetwoguns.thisonebelowandthine.wecanaidthemthus.”

“listen—”robertjordansaid.

“thatiswhatilistento,”primitivosaid.

thefiringwasrollinginoverlappingwaves.thentheyheardthenoiseofhandgrenadesheavyandsoddeninthedryrollingoftheautomaticriflefire.

“theyarelost,”robertjordansaid.“theywerelostwhenthesnowstopped.ifwegotherewearelost,too.itisimpossibletodividewhatforcewehave.”

therewasagraystubbleofbeardstippledoverprimitivo’sjaws,hislipandhisneck.therestofhisfacewasflatbrownwithabroken,flattenednoseanddeep-setgrayeyes,andwatchinghimrobertjordansawthestubbletwitchingatthecornersofhismouthandoverthecordofhisthroat.

“listentoit,”hesaid.“itisamassacre.”

“iftheyhavesurroundedthehollowitisthat,”robertjordansaid.“somemayhavegottenout.”

“comingonthemnowwecouldtakethemfrombehind,”primitivosaid.“letfourofusgowiththehorses.”

“andthenwhat?whathappensafteryoutakethemfrombehind?”

“wejoinwithsordo.”

“todiethere?lookatthesun.thedayislong.”

theskywashighandcloudlessandthesunwashotontheirbacks.therewerebigbarepatchesnowonthesouthernslopeoftheopengladebelowthemandthesnowwasalldroppedfromthepinetrees.thebouldersbelowthemthathadbeenwetasthesnowmeltedweresteamingfaintlynowinthehotsun.

“youhavetostandit,”robertjordansaid.“hayqueaguantarse.therearethingslikethisinawar.”

“butthereisnothingwecando?truly?”primitivolookedathimandrobertjordanknewhetrustedhim.“thoucouldstnotsendmeandanotherwiththesmallmachinegun?”

“itwouldbeuseless,”robertjordansaid.

hethoughthesawsomethingthathewaslookingforbutitwasahawkthatsliddownintothewindandthenroseabovethelineofthefarthestpinewoods.“itwouldbeuselessifweallwent,”hesaid.

justthenthefiringdoubledinintensityandinitwastheheavybumpingofthehandgrenades.

“oh,obscenitythem,”primitivosaidwithanabsolutedevoutnessofblasphemy,tearsinhiseyesandhischeekstwitching.“oh,godandthevirgin,obscenitytheminthemilkoftheirfilth.”

“calmthyself,”robertjordansaid.“youwillbefightingthemsoonenough.herecomesthewoman.”

pilarwasclimbinguptothem,makingheavygoingofitintheboulders.

primitivokeptsaying.“obscenitythem.oh,godandthevirgin,befoulthem,”eachtimeforfiringrolleddownthewind,androbertjordanclimbeddowntohelppilarup.

“quétal,woman,”hesaid,takingholdofbothherwristsandhoistingassheclimbedheavilyoverthelastboulder.

“thybinoculars,”shesaidandliftedtheirstrapoverherhead.“soithascometosordo?”

“yes.”

“pobre,”shesaidincommiseration.“poorsordo.”

shewasbreathingheavilyfromtheclimbandshetookholdofrobertjordan’shandandgrippedittightinhersasshelookedoutoverthecountry.

“howdoesthecombatseem?”

“bad.verybad.”

“he’sjodido?”

“ibelieveso.”

“pobre,”shesaid.“doubtlessbecauseofthehorses?”

“probably.”