The Knight´s Legacy

The Carabineers

“I'm going to stay in my country, for am confident that I can handle my relationship with the police. Anyway, at the Gendarmerie post they already took note of  my van plates, and they will follow this track up to me. The rest of you go away, I will never reveal your identities. I only ask Matías that you pick up my car and leave it hidden somewhere in Esquel outside prying eyes not to entangle your parents in this. I will pick it up as soon as I can.

It was an atrocious crossroads. They had to separate in an untimely way after having shared all kinds of hardships and limit experiences. They also knew that Lautaro was probably exposed. This, always practical, asked them to unify criteria about what had happened, so to make it consistent with what he planned to declare before the Chilean military.

“Only we are a group of lost hikers assaulted by what we believe were common bandits. I will say that you. fled terrified walking  to Argentine territory. I do not know your identities since we met when we sought shelter from the storm in the same place.”

“ But we were seen together in the van.” Replied Juan.

“Our pursuers have that information, but not the Chilean military.,”  Matías intervened with a logic argument.

“In particular we won't mention the presence of Williams and his people.” Recommended José to their peers. We will say that we believe that attackers fled when they heard the Chilean troopers arriving.

Lautaro and Matías embraced with effusivity unexpected in those two sparing men. It was not only blood ties recently learned, but above all the sufferings and dangers endured in recent days. Debbie, Juan and José also greeted the Chilean with a hug.

Debbie, Matías, José, Juan, and Williams men disappeared behind the rocks with the same alacrity with which the latter had appeared half an hour before. Lautaro was left lonely in the valley, accompanied by the assailant body. After about fifteen minutes of great expectation, a group of men uniformed riding horses appeared.

“Carabineers indeed.” Thought Lautaro, who came forward to speak to his countrymen.

Sergeant Gutiérrez, in charge of the platoon, scowled. He did not quite believe the story of those travelers, unknown among themselves and brought together by chance at that time of the year and at that site, allegedly assaulted by so well-armed gunmen, who had d nothing doing in those places. Approaching the dead man he said, with a bit of contempt:

“He looks like a chilota.” Referring to the natives of the island of Chiloé; then addressing his subordinates he asked. “ Does anyone know him?” The answer was negative.

A corporal with some first aid  knowledge and material disinfected and changed the rustic bandage on Lautaro´s arm.

The police seized his gun of Lautaro and the dead man's weapon, collected countless caps left by the attackers and loaded the corpse in one of the horses. Then Gutierrez communicated with his superiors by radio, receiving orders to take the traveler in custody to the barracks for questioning. So two men  rode in one of the horses.

Lautaro, riding in the haunches of the Sergeant’s horse, asked him.

“You were alerted by the helicopter of our presence in the valley, weren´t you?

“No, today I spoke with Lieutenant Semprich, who was on board of  the helicopter all morning, and told me nothing about travelers. Now we were simply doing a routine patrol when we hear gunfire in the distance. You have had a little battle there below. It is a miracle that you have survived such shooting.”

At the Carabineers´ barracks Lautaro was interrogated with the presence of the Captain in charge of the task force; his belongings were revised neatly, and his background requested to the headquarters of the force in Santiago. A nurse attended his wound in a more professional manner.

While the traveler remained detained and was being questioned, an officer approached Sergeant Gutiérrez and asked him to narrate the  incident. He finally asked.

“Did you check his luggage thoroughly? You did not find any books or notepads?

“Lieutenant Semprich. There was very little luggage left because they had lost their mules. There were no books or any papers.”

“Were there any signs of involvement of any other armed group in the shooting?”

“Not my Lieutenant, we found  nothing more although we thoroughly tracked the place.”

“ And the dead man, did could he say something?”

“No, he was already dead when we arrived.”

Instead of the gesture of annoyance that he expected to find in the Lieutenant´s face Gutierrez thought he saw a fleeting relief.

Nemesio Nahualkir lead the group on roads swept away by the wind which they noticed were different to those they had used in the first travel. They were narrower paths only passable on foot and turned very slippery by snow pack, located at lower height than the previous way. After forty hours of march, interrupted by two precarious camps they arrived at a gravel trail  already in Argentine territory.

On the long walk, Matías approached José and asked him….

“Why did Williams change his attitude towards us when you confirmed that we are descendants of the Llanquinao?”

“It is an old pioneer’s story, I know only part of it, and it  refers to their ancestors and ours. I can only say that were it not for the Llanquinao clan, neither Williams nor Nahualkir would be here today.”

After another hour of March, Williams approached Matías, separating him from the rest of the group.

“I repeat that I cannot take the risk that those notebooks fall into the wrong hands. I will do what it takes to make sure of this.” Said in a serious tone without being threatening.

“I give my word that it won't occur. After all what we have passed and endured, you must give us some credit. I promise something else, if we ever decide to rescue the material and make it public we will look for you for our protection. José can find at you any time.

Williams looked at him in the eyes. Finally he made his decision.

“I know who you are and where to find you”. He said in a serious voice. “Always remember that.”

In a moment of rest, when Williams and his men were apart and could not hear, Matías asked Juan.

“Tell me about those relics found by your father and left on the precipice, along with my grandfather´s notepads.”

“It is a coin or medal and pieces of one or more skulls not exactly human which should they fall into the wrong hands could revive old ghosts.”

“What ghosts do you mean?”

“Old racist theories on the origin of the Aryan race, precisely in the Gobi desert. My father found these pieces in a cave in the desert, and hid them from their expedition companions not to give credit to these theories. But he himself, despite his skepticism, came to believe that they could contain something of truth.”

The group of travelers spent the night curled up by the fire. José couldn't sleep, perhaps by the emotions experienced in the day, and could not avoid meditation on the diverse people that fate had brought together at that time and in that place. Although José was not familiar with all the details, perceived that their biographies were a bunch of red wires that intertwined along generations and kept tightening its plot. Man of a fatalistic nature, José wondered if destiny  had delineated some plan for them.