FOR OTHER FANS ALSO DISAPPOINTED WITH THE PATH OF CHARACTER “SEAN RENARD” IN “GRIMM”

When I was younger, I started a journal. But it wasn’t a journal in the conventional sense. It wasn’t a record of my day-to-day activities and it also wasn’t, despite my age back then, a collection of teenage confessions.

It was when I watched a movie, listened to a song, read a book, etc., that elicited certain thoughts or emotions, that I would write. It was never a very regular writing and with the passing of time, it has become less and less regular. So you can get an idea, the latest entry dated back to 2015!

Now that I felt like writing, I thought I’d share the entry in my blog.

It’s about a TV show that isn’t exactly recent, so it may not be relevant for most people, but maybe it can be of interest to some who, like me, started watching later.

Here’s the entry:

November 15^th/December 7^th 2019

Hello Diary,

It’s been a long time since I last wrote to you about what I first set out to write to you about.  Thoughts or emotions aroused by certain books, movies, songs... Actually, I guess I even thought those days were over.

I suppose it’s only natural that as we get older, less and less things are capable of making you feel emotions intense enough to arouse the need to write about it.

(...)

Recently, I again felt that need to write to you. And that desire was awoken by the TV show Grimm. Well, not exactly the show, which I initially didn’t even follow because the premise felt a little silly: a man who, unlike the common mortal, has the ability to see when some people turn into certain and varied creatures (known as Wesen in the show), which makes him a Grimm.

As I was saying, it wasn’t for the show itself but for one character in particular: Sean Renard.

Like I said, I didn’t follow the show initially (truth be told, I don’t follow that many because most of them seem little better than soap operas that have just been given the nicer name of TV series). However, I’d catch it sporadically when zapping, although I wouldn’t linger. But I started to linger occasionally, at first for lack of better options but afterwards because I started to feel captivated by the character in question. At that time I still wasn’t really following the show. I would sometimes watch parts of episodes, or I’d watch an episode, lose a few and then watch another. I must have started watching regularly by the end of season two or maybe the beginning of season three. And now that the show has ended, what made me feel the need to write was the disappointment with the way the character was treated from season five onwards. Namely, the fact that they turned him into a villain.

I’m well aware (both because it was obvious throughout the all story and because I have, in the meantime, watched the episodes I had missed) that he didn’t exactly start out as one of the “good guys”. After all, among other less than commendable things, he did try to have Nick’s aunt killed.

If, in different circumstances, that would have been enough to make me dislike the character, the truth is in this show even some of the most benevolent characters have dark pasts. Take the harmless Blutbad Monroe, for instance. Several times throughout the story we are hinted at the fact that in the past, Monroe hunted human prey.

That predisposes us to be more tolerant because it’s the only way of not losing interest in the characters and consequently the story.

And back to Renard, even in that initial phase where he didn’t always act like a good person, he also never was a man completely devoid of values or a sense of loyalty.

And the way the character evolved until the end of season four brought him closer to the story’s heroes and consequently, to Good.

Even if he got close to Nick and forged their tacit alliance for his own ends, this was gradually shaped, if not in a friendship, at least in esteem. It’s not believable that he would try to kill Nick and persecute all his friends.

The disappointment was even greater because the third and mostly the fourth seasons had shown us a more human – even more vulnerable – side of the character. First, through the relationship with his Mother and afterwards through the way he struggled with the possession by the Ripper’s spirit.

Maybe it could have made sense that the Sean Renard of seasons 1 and 2 became the Sean Renard of 5 and 6, but not the one from seasons 3 and 4. It’s not credible that the same man who was so upset about killing three women when it wasn’t even his fault would adhere, of his own volition, to a homicidal organization such as Black Claw.

Up to that point, he had been such a well thought-out character, from his background – and his consequent ambiguity between Good and Evil – to the choice of his name, which somehow sounded just right.

It was that ambiguity between Good and Evil first, and then his evolution towards Good that made him a character complex enough to be interesting. It was a shame that they exchanged such an interestingly complex character for the cheap thrill of a more conventional villain.

However, I must admit, for the sake of honesty, that in real life, I’m not much of a believer that people change for the better, which means that when that happens in fiction, I also don’t find it particularly believable. I think that if this time was an exception, it was largely due to Sasha Roiz’s acting being so convincing.

And as for Renard’s motivations? Well, it seems to have been mostly a matter of ambition. Fair enough. Renard is indeed an ambitious man, hungry for power. But he is also a man who wouldn’t settle for a sham power. I remember that in one of the first seasons somebody asked him if he would ever take his place as leader of the Royal Family he is a part of. He says yes, but he adds: “But only on my terms”. Now that’s what makes sense considering Renard’s personality. He wouldn’t accept being a puppet. And he fully understands that’s what he’ll be for Black Claw. That’s why he tells Adalind “You and I don’t have complete control here”.

It seems to me he’d rather keep the more modest but more authentic power of a Police Captain. Besides, for someone who had dreamed about becoming a prince, becoming Mayor seems to fall a little short to explain the character’s corruption.

The disappointment was so big that although, like I said, I don’t really believe that people come back from Evil to Good, I hoped that until the end of the show there would be some kind of redemption. And I think there actually was an attempt at it, but it was clearly insufficient.

When, after the confrontation with Nick, he is again approached by Black Claw in order to resume their efforts, this time, he rejects them. And Meisner, who had told him before dying that he had chosen the wrong side, now tells him, in ghost version, that this time he chose the right side. And he ends up saving his life, which seems to suggest that since he got back on the right track, he forgave him.

But the truth is you don’t feel like he refused because he came to his senses and it was a matter of conscience. He just realized he can’t beat Nick. There’s not much of a redemption in that.

Later, he apologizes to Adalind (but Adalind isn’t the only one he hurt or tried to hurt) and tells her he’ll do everything in his power to protect not only his daughter Diana but also Kelly, who is not his son, from the Zerstörer. And he indeed “dies” trying to stop the Zerstörer from taking Diana. But once again, dying to protect your own daughter isn’t much of a redemption. If he had died protecting more directly baby Kelly, for example, maybe I could have felt that he had, at least in some small measure, redeemed himself.

Besides, for all characters except Nick and Diana, the events that take place between the moment Nick comes back through the mirror followed by the Zerstörer and the moment he goes through the portal that opens after he has defeated the Zerstörer, will be as if they never happened. So, both his “death” and the apology will be as if they never took place.

Part of me likes to think that when he killed Bonaparte, even if that was the result of Diana’s spell, the true reason why the spell worked so well was because deep down he didn’t really want to kill Nick. But obviously it makes no sense, seeing that immediately after he tries to blame Nick for that and other events and has him chased with a shoot-to-kill order.

There were a few more things in the show that displeased me but what really disappointed me, because it was my favourite character and I felt like they ruined it, was the way the Sean Renard character was handled from season 5 onwards.

However, maybe it’s worth mentioning those other things in passing.

After a certain point, there was something we in Portuguese call baralha e torna a dar (literally, “shuffle and deal again”) which caught several characters.

I understand that plot twisting can be a way to breathe new life into a story but I think in this case there was an exaggeration.

It wasn’t just Renard turning evil. It was also Adalind turning good, Juliette turning bad and then good again as Eve...

Adalind’s evolution had been the opposite. If she initially acted under Renard’s influence, urged on by him, from the moment she loses her powers, she starts acting on her own, allying herself with the Royals, driven by revenge, becoming more and more the villain type. At least, until her child Diana is born. What she did after she was taken from her, I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s excusable but it is, at least, understandable, seeing that she does it in the conviction that she would afterwards be allowed to be with her daughter.

As for what happened to Juliette, despite everything, I think it can make more sense, both from the point of view of the character logic and the point of view of interest for the storyline.

Starting with the interest for the storyline, the truth is Juliette wasn’t a particularly interesting or dynamic character. As the perfect little girlfriend of the story’s hero, she was rather one-dimensional, similar to so many others, in so many other TV shows, so she had something to gain with the change.

That wasn’t the case with Renard, who was always a complex, multidimensional and therefore interesting character. (And if it was a matter of needing a new villain now that the Royals had been virtually defeated and they didn’t want to introduce a brand new character, I would have actually preferred they had maintained Juliette evil instead of turning her into Eve).

And when I mention character logic, what I mean is that while Renard, due to his circumstances – being born a half Zauberbiest, the fact that he had to resort to some schemes and, certainly, some less than commendable contacts to escape the Royals – has always lived side by side with Evil, Juliette had a life more sheltered from Evil. Not in the sense of being a victim of Evil, but in the sense of being tempted by Evil.

When you live side by side with Evil, you end up building defences against it. The fact that Renard always struggled between Good and Evil would make it less likely that he would so easily yield to Evil. Juliette’s change makes thus more sense. When she turns into a Hexenbiest, she has no defences against the nature of the creature she has become.

It also doesn’t make a lot of sense, to me, that Nick and Adalind end up as a romantic couple. And it’s not that I think he owes any kind of loyalty to Juliette. Not, certainly, after she got his Mother killed! (Not to mention all the neighbours the Royals annihilated after she gave them their locations).

And it’s also not just because of the things she did to him. It’s also because of the things he did to her. First, he stripped her of her powers and then he helped take her child from her. This latter action, no matter how many good reasons he might have had, no Mother would forgive.

I also don’t feel it makes sense that after all the sacrifices Adalind went through during her first pregnancy, subjecting herself to a gruelling – sometimes even humiliating and degrading – ritual in order to recover her Hexenbiest powers, suddenly, after losing them again temporarily when testing the potion meant for Juliette, she doesn’t want them back.

Another thing that I didn’t really understand was that in the “20 years later scene”, with Kelly and Diana all grown up, Diana says: “Mom and Dad are waiting”. We know they have the same Mother, but not the same Father. And regardless of Renard’s flaws, according to what we saw, Diana was pretty close to her Dad. It’s kind of strange that she refers to her stepdad as “Dad” without us seeing if and how she distanced herself from Renard. Maybe he fell back into his evil ways and she, now older – old enough to understand – rejected him? If so, then there really was no redemption.

The next point is just a detail, but still I’ll add that it was kind of a shame that we never got to see Diana woge.

To finish up, I'll say also that despite these points, it is for the first one I mentioned - Sean Renard's transformation into an evil character from seadon 5 onwards - that for me this will always be a four season show. I'd rather pretend the last two never existed.

MEMOIRS OF A LIBERAL Epilogue (THE END) (TEMPORARY)

           A year later, I made Eugénia my wife. After all I’ve been through, my impulsive character gave way to a much more placid man. Maybe that’s why I don’t think that what I feel for her is the same inflamed passion with which Diogo loved Maria da Luz. But I adore her with a serenity that makes me profoundly happy to have her by my side. I know that I can’t expect from her the ardour with which she must have lived her passion for her first husband David either, but I wouldn’t trade her devoted love for anything in this world.

            If it hadn’t been for her, I might have never found myself again. It was she who taught me to accept the deaths of Diogo and Maria da Luz. Their loss is still cause of great suffering for me, but now I know that they fought for what they believed in and that even if we hadn’t won the war, it would have been worth it because we fought on the right side.

            In the precise moment when I’m writing these lines, sitting on a small sofa in my humble living room, Eugénia sits in a sofa opposite my own, embroidering a monogram upon one of my handkerchiefs. On the floor, Pedro Miguel, the son that God has presented us with three years ago, is playing with Cecília, who comes to visit now and then. We gave him the name of the two warring princes as a way to symbolize our wish that in the future, there may be unity and that problems can be solved without war.

            Although she did not go to work for my Father again, Cecília kept up with his situation. We found out from her that after selling the Roseiral, my Father’s health started to wither and he eventually died, but not without sending for Cecília, who he instructed to ask for my forgiveness. I forgive him because I know that Luz and Diogo, wherever they are, certainly bear him no grudge.

            When I look at my son, I can’t help thinking that if the son of Maria da Luz and Diogo had lived, he and little Pedro Miguel would be friends as inseparable as Diogo and I were.

            Despite everything, I am happy. I have a devoted family and I have hope that all I did will allow my child to grow up in a more just world. I hope I have wisdom enough to teach him to always fight for what is right, but avoiding whenever possible bloody and deadly conflicts like the ones Diogo and I were a part of.

THE END

MEMOIRS OF A LIBERAL Chapter XVII (TEMPORARY)

During the weeks that followed, while I and the other soldiers were waiting for the orders to return home, I tried to convince Luz to leave the convent and go to Aunt Francisca’s house, for that place was full of painful memories. But she said she wouldn’t leave me alone and that the company of the other girls and the Sisters took some of the weight from those memories.

Since the war was over and our presence there was just a precaution, I went to the convent everyday to visit Luz. Luz never told me but Eugénia said to me that she was having complications with her pregnancy. I was worried, for I had already noticed she didn’t seem well, but when I mentioned to her, she just said: «I just felt indisposed a few times. It’s normal. Eugénia shouldn’t have worried you with that». At first, I again insisted with her to go to Oporto, but I ended up letting her convince me that Eugénia was in fact exaggerating. However, I would soon discover how wrong I was.

                That day, it was before eight o’clock in the morning when I headed to the convent. The nuns started their day early and the girls also rose at first light, so I wasn’t worried about interrupting their rest. When I passed the gates that led to the garden, I saw a woman lying in the ground, near the convent. I didn’t need much time to realize it was Maria da Luz. I ran to her in order to help her. Luz was lying on her side, bent with her knees to her chest, crying in pain. I knew it wasn’t time yet, so that could only mean some serious complication. «Luz!», I exclaimed, trying to lift her up. But she yelled in pain and I instinctively let her go. «Pedro...», she sobbed. I noticed her dress was stained with blood. She was bleeding. I felt as if the ground was running away from underneath my feet. Diogo was already gone. It wasn’t possible that God wanted to take Luz away from me too. «I’m going to get help», I said. «Don’t leave me...»

                I felt terrible having to leave her alone like that, even if for only a few minutes, but I had to go and get someone who knew what to do. «I’ll back in a second», I assured her. I ran through the corridors of the hospital until I found Eugénia, who declared: «If the Sisters see you running in here, you’ll never hear the end of it. Is something the matter?» «Luz... I think it’s the baby». «Where is she?»

                In a few words, I reported the situation and both Eugénia and some of the other girls who had heard us ran to the garden. With Eugénia’s help, I carried Luz inside the convent and took her to her bedroom. Eugénia and the other nurses made me leave the room and locked the bedroom’s door. «Where is the surgeon?», I asked a nun who had meanwhile been warned about what was happening and arrived in that moment. «He has already left. Almost all the patients have been transferred to civilian hospitals. The ones who remain are tended only by the girls». «Is there no way to call him?» «Even if you had a horse, it would be nine hours before you got there and nine more to return. Anyway, Dr. Rocha may be an excellent surgeon but I’m sure he doesn’t know that much about childbirth. Eugénia assisted two of her sisters when they gave birth».

                From inside the bedroom, besides my sister’s screams, came the voices of the other girls who were in there with her. They talked at the same time, giving the impression that they were extremely busy. Unfortunately, I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Only Maria da Luz’s screams were loud and clear and they were giving me the creeps. The Sisters tried to make me sit down in another room but since they couldn’t move me from there, they brought me a stool so that I could wait at the bedroom’s door. But nervous as I was, I ended up pacing most of the time.

                The hours passed and from the other side of the door, I still heard my sister; sometimes crying, sometimes screaming. As time dragged on, the fear of losing Maria da Luz became more and more powerful and six hours must have already passed when I whispered in despair: «Please, God. If you have to take someone, take the child. Don’t take Luz away from me...»

                Maybe God wanted to punish me for having turned my back on Him lately. Or for my selfishness. What right had I after all to decide about the lives of one or the other? Shortly afterwards, Eugénia opened the door and came out. Wrapped in a sheet, she carried the lifeless body of my nephew. «Can I hold him?» «He’s dead, Mr. Pedro. He never even breathed». «What about Maria da Luz?» Eugénia sighed and I could perceive a certain pity in her expression. «Luz is dead?», I asked, shaking her with such violence that she seemed scared. «No... Not yet...» Alarmed by those words, I pulled her out of my way and rushed inside the bedroom. The other nurses left as they saw me. Luz lay on the bed, with her eyes closed and her hair in disarray. In a corner of the room, there was a bunch of bloody sheets and the dress Luz was wearing before the nurses changed her.

Her eyes were closed, her arms spread out on the sheets. She had never looked so fragile. When she heard my steps, she opened her eyes, which became filled with tears when she saw me. «My baby...», she sobbed. «My baby is dead». Her body was shaken by a soft, silent weeping. She was crying bent over her womb, partly still because of the pain but also because she didn’t want to believe she had lost her child. I tenderly caressed her forehead, but her tears redoubled instead of stopping. Luz tried to sit up in bed. I protested because she was too weak but since she wouldn’t give up, I helped her. Immediately, she hugged me and said: «Only you remain, Pedro... Be happy for us...»

                I realized that meant she knew she was going to die. I knew it too, for Eugénia’s words and my sister’s feeble look left no room for doubt. And so, something happened that I no longer expected to happen. The tears that for so long I had searched for in vain started rolling down my face as Luz cried with her arms around me. We remained like that for a while until I realized in alarm that I no longer felt her sobbing, the beating of her heart next to my chest, her breathing. Maria da Luz was dead. I lay her down carefully and kept crying... for her, for Diogo, for my nephew, for all those for whom I had not yet been able to cry. But unfortunately, it didn’t make me feel better. It only allowed my anger to grow. Anger against the war and against the world... Anger against God, who had now deprived me of all those I had cared for.

Noticing my delay, Eugénia came in again. As she saw me crying next to my sister’s bed, she immediately realized Luz had died. She approached, touched my shoulder gently with her hand and said: «Maria da Luz is next to God. With her son and the man she loved». I had no doubt that Eugénia was right about Luz and the child. My sister’s only great sin had been committed for love and I was sure that God would not refuse her admittance because of that. But Diogo, who, like me, had spent his youth killing other men, could he be with them? «Do you really think that Diogo is with God?» «I’m sure», Eugénia replied with a gentle smile.

A few days after Maria da Luz’s and the baby’s burial, D. Miguel left for his exile, as it had been agreed in Évora Monte. The soldiers were then able to return home. D. Pedro was generous to those who had fought at his side and some received rewards which allowed them to support themselves until they found another way of living. Some returned to their families – to their parents or wives, – others, having lost their homes, decided to remain in the army. Others still, disheartened for some reason, with no place to go back to and without the will to start a new life, became vagrants and beggars. They lived in the alleys, waiting near the taverns for the patrons to give them some money to eat.

                That’s how it was with me. Unable to go back to the Roseiral, ashamed to ask Aunt Francisca to take me in again, and without any will to fight, I wondered about the streets, living on alms that people gave me without me even asking, for all I wanted was to die too, as soon as possible.

But when I already thought that God had forgotten about me, He sent one of his angels to me. I was wondering about aimlessly when a young woman passed by me. But after she had passed, she turned around, as if recognizing me. It was Eugénia. I thought that seeing my worn out clothes, my grimy look, my untrimmed beard, she would prefer to pretend that she hadn’t recognized me, but that didn’t happen. Eugénia came back, and without hiding her astonishment, she asked: «Dear God! What happened to you?» I didn’t really know what to answer. «Why didn’t you return home?» «Didn’t Luz tell you? Our house was sold and my Father had already cast me out anyway. I never acquired my own house before the war». «Weren’t you entitled to a reward? I know that many soldiers...» «I don’t know», I interrupted. «I never bothered to find out...» «Don’t you care?» «Since the deaths of Diogo and Luz I don’t care about anything». «You shouldn’t talk like that. I knew little of your friend but I know Luz would be sad to hear you». I didn’t reply. Eugénia said: «Come with me to my house. How long has it been since you’ve had a decent meal?» «No... I better not...»

                I turned the offer down out of politeness, but the truth was my empty stomach was tempting me to accept the invitation. Besides, it was the first time in a long time that a human being addressed me not to give me alms without even looking at my face but offering to help out of friendship. «Come on», she insisted. «Do it for me». I ended up letting her take me.

                Eugénia lived alone in a house she had inherited from her paternal grandmother. She had lived there with her while she was alive and was now alone. I felt a little ashamed for being there, with my clothes in tatters, in the presence of such brave a woman.

                Eugénia had already eaten but she sat and talked with me while I swallowed the meal she was offering me. We talked for quite a while and then I said: «Well, I better go. I have no words to thank you...» «Don’t go yet. I’ll warm up some water for you to wash and shave. Then you can put on some of my husband’s clothes. Unfortunately, he died some time ago, so he doesn’t need them». «I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness». «Please. If I let you go like that, I would feel I hadn’t behaved like a good Christian woman».

                Eugénia talked in a way that made you feel she would be offended if you disobeyed and so I acquiesced. When I finished and looked in the mirror, I rediscovered my own youth. I was no longer an anonymous beggar. I was Pedro Ávila again. However, I was afraid I wouldn’t have the courage to go back to the streets. When I left the room, already cleaned and dressed, Eugénia asked me to sit down and listen to what she had to say to me. Now that I was cleaned and well dressed, I no longer felt ashamed to accept the invitation. I no longer felt like a beggar accepting the kindness of a compassionate woman, but like a friend. «Pedro», she said. «You should find a place to live... You understand I can’t invite you to stay at my house. If my husband was alive, things would be different but as it is...» «Listen, Eugénia», I interrupted, taking her hands with affection. «I am forever grateful for what you did. But you don’t need to worry. I should go now». «Wait, let me finish. As I was saying, I can’t offer you a room in my house, but I know a small inn nearby. It’s not luxurious but at least it’s not expensive». «But I can’t afford it». «Then allow me to lend you the money». «I couldn’t...» «Please». «No! I can’t! It wouldn’t be right...» «Pedro, I’m not offering you anything. It would only be a lone». «But you know I don’t have the means to pay you back». «Well, you’re a liberal, aren’t you? Isn’t it the liberals who claim that a man’s worth is in what he is able to produce through his own effort and labour? Find an occupation, Pedro. My husband was a caretaker. What can you do?» «To be honest, I don’t think I can do anything... I was only 17 when I left the Roseiral. During the time I lived in my Aunt’s house in Oporto and in the IlhaBela Inn in the Azores, I managed with my share of the inheritance my Mother had left. Diogo lived on the money that Cecília used to send him... Probably, most of what she earned. All of those things seem so far away now... Then, the war came. While we were in the army, we didn’t need to worry about providing for ourselves. So as you can see, I never learned how to do anything except fight». «What about that inheritance your Mother left you?» «It ran out shortly after the war. There wasn’t much left anyway. After all, my Mother’s family may have been well-off but they weren’t exactly rich». «Well, the fact that you never learned a trade doesn’t mean you can’t do anything. I have an idea. First of all, find out if you are entitled to a reward for your war effort and if it’s significant. Maybe you can buy a small land or if it’s not enough for that, maybe you can work in someone else’s land, like my late husband did. I know that for someone who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, it’s probably not a very appealing prospect, but it is no shame. At least, you won’t have to beg.

                In the beginning, I didn’t give much credit to Eugénia’s proposition, for I didn’t really think I could overcome all difficulties. However, I had nothing to lose and so I decided to give it a try. I started by accepting the lone and checking in the inn she had recommended. Then, I went to find out if I was entitled to some reward for the part I had played in the war. It wasn’t easy, for a long time had elapsed and the people in charge weren’t sure my claim was still valid. They decided that it was. I could choose between a small amount of money or a small piece of land. At first, I thought that it would be wiser to go for the land, but after I paid a visit to it, I decided it wasn’t worth the money I would receive and so it would be better to take the money and buy land chosen by me.

                The land that I bought wasn’t very big but it served the purpose I wanted it for: to build a house where I could live and have some land to sow and reap enough to get by.

                When the harvest was good, I would pay one or two boys to carry the surplus and sell it in the market. And so I saved enough money to pay Eugénia and even to fulfil some of my more superfluous needs. Once I had paid my debt, I became a more regular visitor in Eugénia’s house, for nothing I did felt enough to express my gratitude and friendship.

MEMOIRS OF A LIBERAL Chapter XVI (TEMPORARY)

When he commented the fact that the war was forcing us to live each day as if it was the last, Diogo was far from imagining how near his own end was. A few months after that day, the reinforcements arrived and the Duke was finally able to launch the so long awaited attack on the enemy forces. Although they didn’t know that we were expecting reinforcements and even thought that we might have left the area, the miguelites still prepared an excellent defence and the battle that was fought that day only ended at nightfall, when having already lost their highest ranking officers, the absolutists found no other way but to surrender.

                But that victory, the victory that would mark the liberal triumph over D. Miguel’s regime, would for me – and for so many others, after all – have a bitter taste.

                The order to attack came immediately after the first sunlight, and with the awareness that we had the advantage this time, we fought fiercely, urged on by the belief that we could not loose. But even when you win, it is impossible that in a battle men from both sides don’t have to fall.

                Diogo and I fought side by side all day long and it was already starting to get dark when in a risky move Diogo was shot in his abdomen. He let out an almost inaudible moan and fell, bending over the wound. «Diogo», I exclaimed in a frightened voice. I shouted to some of the soldiers to cover my rear and as fast as I could, I ran to him and dragged him behind the front lines, so that he wouldn’t be so exposed, now that he couldn’t defend himself. His shirt was stained with blood and his face was excessively pale and covered in beads of sweat. He was conscious and from the way his features were contorted, I realized the pain must have been unbearable. «Diogo...» «Don’t worry about me», he said. «I’ll be alright... Keep on fighting...»

But all I wanted was for that battle to be over so that I could take Diogo to the hospital. I admit I even wished for the Duke to order a retreat, although I knew that would be impossible, since we had the advantage. From that moment on, it was no more to protect my life or the liberal cause that I fought. All that mattered was keeping Diogo safe until the battle was over. When the miguelites finally surrendered, I carried Diogo to the convent with the help of Luís, another soldier. When we arrived, several soldiers had already been brought and the girls were busy. Eugénia, who saw us arrive, helped us lay Diogo in one of the beds of the room she was in. Luís went to fetch more wounded. «Where is Maria da Luz?», I asked Eugénia. «She is in that bedroom», she replied, pointing to one of the doors that led to another room with more wounded. «Do you want me to go get her?» «No, thank you, Eugénia. I’ll go».

I entered the room that Eugénia had pointed and saw my sister cutting the sleeve of the soldier in the farthest bed, so that the surgeon could treat his wounded arm. Luz turned around at the sound of my steps. She smiled when she saw that I was unhurt but soon became pale as she realized that if Diogo wasn’t with me, it was because something was wrong. I looked at the womb that harboured my future nephew. My sister’s pregnancy was well advanced.

In the beginning, Luz had faced some problems with the Sisters, but the Mother Superior had been understanding and had let her stay.

Since Diogo had been hit, I had been struggling with how to tell my sister the news in a way that the shock wouldn’t harm her or the child. Maria da Luz finished what she was doing and came to meet me. «Pedro...», she said in a trembling voice. «Where is Diogo?» «Diogo has been wounded», I said. «Come, I’ll take you to him».

Luz followed me silently to Diogo’s bed, where he was breathing heavily. Maria da Luz caressed his face and he opened his eyes. «Luz...» «Don’t talk», she commanded. She unbuttoned his shirt and his trousers and the look of the wound seemed to worry her. «Well?» I asked. «You think they can fix him?» Maria da Luz stepped away from Diogo’s bed and signalled me to follow her. Then she declared: «It’s not the first time I see a case like Diogo’s. It will be very hard for the surgeon to extract the bullet and even if he can do it... He has already lost so much blood...» «What are you trying to say? That he is going to die?» «I don’t know, I don’t know...», she said, and she looked completely lost. «Where is the surgeon?», I asked. «I don’t know...» «I’ll take you to him», said Eugénia, who had heard us talking.

                Eugénia took me to the bedroom where the surgeon was. He was treating a soldier who had been wounded in his leg. He recognized me as the brother of one of his nurses and smiled when I approached him. «Hello, Pedro. Are you looking for your sister?» «No, doctor. I need your help. Diogo...» «Diogo has been wounded?», he interrupted. «Just let me finish binding this leg. I will see him right away».

                The few seconds that Dr. Rocha took to bind the soldier’s leg felt like an eternity to me. Finally, he finished and said: «Let’s go see your friend, then. Where is he?» I led him to the room where Diogo was. Although conscious, Diogo had his eyes closed and occasionally, he’d stir and let out a feeble moan. Maria da Luz had already cleaned the wound and was now trying to stop the bleeding, without much success. The surgeon approached him, took a few moments to look at the wound and said with a grave expression: «The internal bleeding is almost certainly very serious. I don’t want to mislead you. Under normal circumstances, cases like Diogo’s don’t even go through me because they are considered lost cases and because when I take a case like that, I could be taking care of others with treatable wounds. But Diogo has become a personal friend lately and he is the Father of the child of Maria da Luz, whose help has been invaluable... Although I don’t think he can recover, I will try to extract the bullet and... I will pray for a miracle».

                Dr. Rocha didn’t need to measure his words because Diogo’s semi-conscious state wouldn’t let him fully understand what we were saying.

When I heard that only a miracle – like the doctor himself had said – could make Diogo survive, I felt lost. If Diogo died... – Diogo, for whose friendship, deep down, I had become a liberal – It would be as if despite the miguelites’ surrender, the war had never happened and we had achieved nothing. I recalled the time when I was a child and all I wanted was to share Christmas dinner with Diogo. Deep down, it had been for things as simple as that I had been a part of that war: so that Diogo and I could truly be friends, and not master and servant anymore. Now that Diogo was lying on that bed, waiting to die, it all seemed to have been in vain. We would never have a chance to enjoy together what we had fought for.

                But it occurred to me that I was being selfish. After all, Maria da Luz had much greater cause to be desperate and yet, there she was, unwavering, almost refusing to let anyone go to her with words of comfort. «Maria da Luz», the surgeon said «I would rather not have you assist me as I extract the bullet. I know you never let your emotions get in the way of your job helping me, but as I’m sure you understand, in this case, I would rather have someone else assisting me». Luz accepted the surgeon’s advice but she insisted on being present during the procedure.

Dr. Rocha approached Diogo. «Diogo, can you hear me?» Diogo opened his eyes and nodded “yes” with his head. «We are going to extract the bullet». «It’s useless...» «I don’t want to lie to you. You may well be right and since it’s going to be a painful procedure, I think you should decide if you want to go through it». Diogo looked at me and then gazed at Maria da Luz, whose eyes seemed to beg him to not surrender himself to death without, at least, trying. With great difficulty, Diogo replied: «I won’t give up without a fight... for fear of not being able to stand... the pain».

                After Diogo had given his consent, I asked two of our fellows in arms to help me hold him while the surgeon was doing his work. Luz asked Eugénia to assist Dr. Rocha, for although all the others were very competent, my sister trusted no one else to take care of Diogo.

Usually, when it was necessary to perform the kind of procedure that Diogo was going to be subjected to, you tried to numb the patient with strong drinks, but in the case of Diogo, it wasn’t possible to wait that long and so, after making him bite on a roll of clean bandage, Dr. Rocha immediately started working.

                At first, Diogo endured the pain by clenching his teeth and fists. His lips were trembling and sweat was rolling from his forehead to his eyes. Dr. Rocha was sweating too. For a moment, I was sure that Diogo would survive, that God would not allow that all of our efforts and all of Diogo’s torment would be in vain. But Diogo was moaning now, and violently contorting. It was hard for the two soldiers and me to keep him still. Seeing Diogo’s suffering, Luz let out a distressed yell and rushed to make Dr. Rocha stop what he was doing. Luckily, Eugénia’s hands were free and she was able to hold her. Luz kept kicking and screaming and her screams were making me loose the strength that I needed to keep Diogo still. Feeling that my voice was failing me, I asked: «Take her away, please take her away...» Two other nurses who were close by took her from Eugénia’s arms and forced her to leave the room, despite her protests.

                When the surgeon finally managed to extract the bullet, Diogo’s eyes looked like glass. He had no strength left to struggle, but he still moaned softly.

After he finished, Dr. Rocha thanked the soldiers, who removed themselves from the room after expressing to me their wishes for Diogo’s recovery. «All I could do has been done», the surgeon said. «From the way you speak, I’d say there isn’t much hope». «You knew that before the surgery». «Yes, I’m trying to accept that, but I can’t help but hope». «And you should. My power to save is limited, but there are no limits to God».

                The surgeon left us to go take care of other cases and Eugénia too went to look after other patients. I approached Diogo, who was still moaning almost inaudibly. I put my hand over his to see if there was any reaction. Diogo opened his eyes and then closed them again. His breathing was heavy. I remembered that Maria da Luz was still waiting to know the result of the surgery and I went looking for her. I found her sitting in a bench in the convent’s garden, in the company of one of the Sisters. Her eyes were red from crying, but she was much calmer now than when she had tried to interrupt Dr. Rocha. When she saw me, she rose and asked: «Well?» «Dr. Rocha didn’t give us much hope... but he said that there’s nothing God can’t do. Right, Sister?» «God knows what he’s doing», she replied. «Even if sometimes we don’t understand it and so we suffer». «I’m sure he’ll live...» «Yes», Luz replied. «You are sure and you will be sure until the end. You have a soldier’s heart and they cling to life – theirs and the others’ – until it is completely over. But I’m a woman, a nurse, and I love Diogo... And I know when it is not wise to hope anymore». «I’ll leave you alone», the Sister said. Before she left, she said to Maria da Luz: «Remember what I told you. Whatever happens, God will have done the best for Diogo».

                I thought better not to reply, for I was afraid I couldn’t be honest without offending the Sister. «Come on», Luz said. «I want to see Diogo».

                I followed Luz to the room where he was. My sister wiped the sweat from his forehead and face. I thought I should leave them alone and I was going to leave, but my sister stopped me. «Stay», she said.

Diogo was conscious but still exhausted from the surgery.

A soldier came in and whispered something in my ear. Then, he left.

«Diogo», I called. He probably knew he was going to die. It was only fair that he knew our cause had won. Diogo looked at me, waiting to hear what I had to say. «D. Miguel has surrendered. Finally, the Charter is going to become a reality». Diogo smiled and his expression seemed to be of relieve. «Then», he said, «my death... won’t be... in vain». «Don’t talk like that», Luz asked.

                Diogo smiled again, lifted his arm and caressed my sister’s face. Then, he put his hand over her my sister’s womb.

                My friends torment still lasted two more days and two more nights, during which neither Luz nor I slept more than four or five hours, for we were always close to his bed. As I hoped for a miracle, Luz tried to make the last moments of the Father of her child as comfortable as possible.

When Diogo finally expired, Luz sobbed for hours with her head on my shoulder. I let her cry but I was too angry to find any words of comfort. «I fear for you», she said, still leaning on my shoulder. «There’s no need. The war is over. The same won’t happen to me». «That’s not what I’m talking about. Diogo told me you had plans for the future. That you wanted to work and by a piece of land. It was what he intended too, to buy a small modest piece of land where we could build a house and raise our child. But now that he’s dead, I feel that you don’t really have any will to live...»

I saw what she meant. The war was over and if we were still there it was only because D. Pedro had thought it better not to demobilize the troops before he had obtained D. Miguel’s formal surrender. In fact, like Luz had said, when we left the Roseiral, both Diogo and I had plans for the future; for when what we were going to fight for became a reality. But as time went on, I had become so caught up in the war that I had virtually forgotten there was a life beyond it. Anyway, now that Diogo was dead, none of the things I had fought for seemed to matter. To be honest, I even wished I had never left the Roseiral or even heard about D. Pedro’s Constitutional Charter, for maybe that meant Diogo was still alive. Luz must have realized what I was feeling, for she took my hands and said: «You mustn’t regret anything. Diogo fought for what he believed in and would have fought even if you had stayed behind. I hurt as much as you do – maybe more – but I’m glad that he always had you at his side in his struggle and I know how that was important to him. Besides, the days that I spent here with the two of you were the happiest of my life. I know that you were happy too, and Diogo wasn’t any less happy than either of us. I’m sure that wherever he is, he doesn’t regret anything either». «Deep down, I know you are right», I said. «But I can’t help but feel angry...» «And you think I don’t feel that too? But I know Diogo would want me to be strong to raise our child. And I’m sure he’d also want you to go thought with your live as if he was still alive». «I’m so tired...», I said, leaning my head back as if searching for some inexistent support. «You should cry. It would do you good». «It’s funny», I said, smiling with nostalgia. «Diogo told me once that I should learn how to cry. It’s funny that you are telling me the same».

MEMOIRS OF A LIBERAL Capítulo XV (TEMPORARY)

After having distributed all they had brought with them, the girls withdrew to the convent, but they came back the next day and all days after that, with more food and fresh water. It wasn’t, however, what they brought with them that made all camp look forward for their visit. It was their smile, their lightness and the harmony they seemed to impart to everything around them. The men started regarding them as a good luck charm, something that brought good fortune to our troops.

True bonds of friendship grew between us and the nurses from the convent and soon the men started to realize that both from the part of Diogo and Maria da Luz, there was an unconfessed love, and we all conspired to bring them together. However, Diogo always denied any feeling other than friendship and dedication towards Maria da Luz and my sister never openly admitted the way she felt either. But one night when I was keeping watch, I saw a figure coming from the direction of the convent and head towards the shelter that Diogo and I usually shared. I immediately realised it was Maria da Luz who had finally decided to give in – or maybe just couldn’t resist anymore – to her feelings. Despite all my fondness for Diogo, I feared for Maria da Luz reputation and I ran towards the shelter, intended on stopping them from committing an impetuous action. But as I heard my sister’s firm voice, I realized she was certainly aware of all the risks and that the decision of taking that chance or not was theirs alone. «Diogo», she said, «the fact that you never asked me to go against my Father’s will and the fact that you never asked me to sacrifice everything I would have to forsake to be with you, only made me love you and respect you even more, but now, it is I who ask of you: if you don’t love me, tell me now and I will go back to where I came from, but if what everyone seem to believe is true, if it is true that you love me, then don’t say anything and let me stay». I wasn’t surprised by Diogo’s silence and I decided to go back to my position.

                A few days later, the Duke, annoyed by the delay in the arrival of reinforcements, decided not to wait any longer and launch the attack with the troops that he had. Unfortunately, such recklessness would cost us a heavy price, for not only we were forced to retreat but we lost even more men. Now that the enemy knew about our presence and knew that they had advantage, our battalion was not spared and we had to change the location of the camp to stop them from annihilating us. In a way, the change was good, for we were now closer to the convent and it was easier to carry the wounded.

When that first battle ended, the soldiers who had managed to avoid injury helped carry the wounded to the convent, but only the serious cases, for there was not enough room to accommodate all the ones that needed care. The ones with less complicated injuries were tended by the girls who came to the camp.

Luz proved she could assist without blinking even in the most complicated cases, including helping the surgeon with the extraction of bullets and so, when that incident happened, I immediately realized that something was going on.

Maria da Luz was helping the surgeon clean up the lead from a soldier’s shoulder and Diogo and I, who had brought him in, were watching, in case our help might be necessary. The wound, although quite bloody, wasn’t really serious, but during the procedure, Luz seemed to stagger. The surgeon tried to catch her but his hands weren’t free and Maria da Luz ended up falling in Diogo’s arms. She didn’t, however, pass out. It was just dizziness. Diogo made her sit down and asked: «Are you alright?» «I’m just a little tired». «Go and have some rest», the surgeon advised. «I’ll examine you when I’m finished here». «There’s no need. It’s just fatigue». Diogo and I led Maria da Luz to the small convent’s garden and Diogo said to my sister: «Luz, I think this is a good time to tell your brother what’s going on».

It was the first time that Diogo called her only by her name in my presence and so I knew it was a serious matter. Luz nodded in agreement and taking my sister’s hand, Diogo revealed: «Pedro, your sister is expecting my child».

The revelation didn’t catch me completely off guard, for I already feared that that might have happened and the small incident from just minutes ago had helped confirm my suspicion. «Don’t misjudge us, brother», Maria da Luz intervened. «We didn’t mean to hide it from you. You’d have to know sooner or later anyway. We were just waiting for the best moment to tell you», Diogo said. «Well, to be honest, I had already suspected. I’m happy that you’re happy». «So now that you know, help me convince her to go back home, for I haven’t managed to make her listen to me». «Diogo is right. You can’t wait for the child’s birth in here, it’s madness». «You know I can’t count on the support of D. José Ávila». «Luz, I know your Father shunned you but maybe if he knew of your situation...» «He’d cast me out again for having lost myself, especially if he knew who the Father of my child is». «Diogo is right, my sister. Perhaps you are right in saying that Father wouldn’t welcome you back, but I’m sure Aunt Francisca would accept you and it would only be until Diogo came for you. The absolutists can’t hold on much longer. You’re not safe here. You said it yourself that some of the girls have been murdered». «That’s enough! I’m not going back! You needn’t worry! I’m as safe in here as I would be in Oporto. Or do you think this is the only place where there’s war? My child won’t be born here in the middle of a battlefield. When the time is near, I will ask permission to Aunt Francisca to stay with her, but until then, there is still a lot I can do to help the liberal cause».

And as if to prove it would be useful to continue reasoning, Maria da Luz went back inside the convent, leaving us alone. Diogo said then: «I love your sister». «I know». «When this is all over, I will take her as my wife. And it’s not just because she is expecting my child. I would never have touched her if we didn’t have to live each day as if it was the last». «I know, my good friend. As I said, I’m happy for you both. To tell you the truth, I feel more relieved than I would be if I had to see her married to Álvaro Dias».

MEMOIRS OF A LIBERAL Chapter XIV (TEMPORARY)

In November 1833, after the Duke had been informed there were enemy troops in Asseiceira and although the men in the absolutist army greatly outnumbered us, he decided to launch an attack on them, for we were not far from there and the Duke was expecting reinforcements from the capital. For the Duke, the element of surprise was crucial, so we set up camp at considerable distance from the absolutist troops. It was night when we finished. The next morning, when I woke up and peeked through the opening in the shelter, I thought a miracle had happened. Most of the camp was still sleeping but Diogo was already awake and he too, just like all the others who were awake, were looking at same thing that I was with the same expression of someone who thought was having a vision. Throughout the camp, some five or six girls were bringing us food and fresh water but, more importantly, they were bringing their smiles, their lightness, their innocence. «What is going on here», the sergeant asked one of them. «Who are you and what are you doing?» «Don’t worry», replied the girl, dark haired and with proud demeanour. «We are nurses and are used to dealing with soldiers. We too want to help the cause. We knew you were coming and came to bring you food and water to drink». «Well, I’m sure the soldiers are very grateful, but you must go, now. This is no place for you». «Don’t be angry, we want to help», she said without any signs of being intimidated by the sergeant’s tone. «Oh, really? Do I look like I’m crazy? You think I’m gonna let a bunch of women fight?»

Diogo, me and some of the other young men were watching in amusement the contrast between the girl’s composure and the annoyed tone of the sergeant. «We’re not here to fight. We are here as nurses and live in that convent over there. Unfortunately, not even that sanctuary has been spared. We suffered an attack two days ago».

We looked in the direction she was pointing and saw the building. It stood on elevated ground and so we thought it wouldn’t be easy for the wounded to get there, especially because we were short of horses to carry them. But it was better than nothing and the girls seemed so willing to help that we felt truly glad that they were there. «The Sisters take the wounded in and we help take care of them», the girl completed. The sergeant did not reply and turned away. As he was withdrawing, he was still grumbling: «Women in the army! That was all we needed...»

We had been so amused listening to the conversation between the sergeant and the girl that we hardly noted the other girls, but when he turned his back, I noticed one who, even from a distance, seemed familiar to me. Her luminous hair and the graceful way she moved left no place for doubt. «That girl...», I said to Diogo. «It’s Maria da Luz!» Diogo looked in the direction where my eyes were fixed. «By God!...» he exclaimed. «It really is your sister! But what’s that angel doing amidst the hell of war?»

I didn’t waste time thinking about the answer and ran to her, followed by Diogo. Luz was startled when she saw two soldiers running towards her but she soon recognized her brother and her childhood friend. «Pedro! Diogo! At last, I found you! I was about to give up hope...» «What do you mean? Have you been looking for us? Where is your husband?» Luz lowered her eyes as if embarrassed, but there was no sadness in her expression. «I didn’t get married», she said. «You were right, Pedro. I couldn’t marry a man I didn’t love. Besides, I realized that he too would shun you for being a liberal and if I could tolerate that in Father, I could not do it with the man with whom I was going to share my life. I told you once that the sacrifice wouldn’t be so great because although I didn’t love Álvaro, I also didn’t love anyone else and so I wouldn’t have to forsake my own will. But I was unknowingly lying». «You mean there is someone in your heart?», I asked. «There has always been. I was just too blind to see what my heart was striving to show me». «And who is he?»

Luz could not help but to glance at Diogo as she replied: «Don’t hold it against me, brother; or you, Diogo, my good friend. But the secrets of a woman’s heart should remain secret until...» «Until someone unveils them», Diogo completed. «Yes, that’s it», my sister admitted. «And how did Álvaro react when you told him you were going to break the engagement?» «Not very well. The last time I saw him, I slapped his face...» «Did that scoundrel disrespect you?» Diogo asked, rising with his fists clenched and his face red with anger. I myself was sure that whatever Álvaro had said or done, it must have been very serious to make my sister, usually of such mild temperament, loose her temper like that. «No, he didn’t disrespect me. At least, not in the way you’re thinking».

Luz took a deep breath and prepared herself to tell us the whole story. We were sitting in the puffy grass, just as we used to do in the Roseiral when we were children. «When Father asked me if I would accept to marry Álvaro, I did indeed ponder saying yes, but I asked for a few days to think about it. It was more or less at that time that I sent the letter to Aunt Francisca’s house to let you know. I ended up saying no, but Father swore that if I didn’t, he would hunt you down, and you too, Diogo. That he would find you both and have you arrested for treason. It wouldn´t be hard, in the middle of this war. He said he would spare your life because he wouldn’t want to go through the shame of seeing his son hang, but that he wouldn’t be so lenient with Diogo». «What a scoundrel!...» «No, Pedro, that’s not true! He didn’t mean anything he said. He said it to scare me, to make me accept Álvaro. And he did, especially because meanwhile the siege of Oporto happened and I was afraid that he indeed had the power to hurt you. But we soon started hearing that the siege was a lost battle for the miguelites. I was happy because that meant Father wouldn’t be able to reach you so easily and meanwhile, I overheard a conversation between Father and Álvaro and found out that not only Álvaro knew about his threats but he had offered to fulfil them himself. I started to feel deep hatred against Álvaro who claimed to love me and yet cared so little about my feelings; against Father, who felt he had the right to control my life; against the fanatic absolutism of both of them...

«One evening, when we were already in Aunt Francisca’s house, Álvaro came to have dinner with us and I said in front of everyone that I had decided to break the engagement; that I had only accepted such a thing under threat but I no longer needed to be afraid because the siege had been lifted and I would find you before they did and stop you from falling in their traps. I even told him that I hated him and that I could no longer call Father to someone who had the courage to hunt down his own son, my brother, and a childhood friend of both his children. I said so many things that I thought he was going to hit me for the first time in my life, but instead... he started crying». «Crying?! D. José Ávila?» It had never crossed my mind that my Father’s eyes had the ability to shed one single tear. «Like a child», Luz confirmed. «He became very red, started to choke, gasping for air... I thought he was going to die. Aunt Francisca and Álvaro helped him and carried him to his room, while I stayed in the dining room, feeling guilty for having said all those terrible things.

«While the doctor that Aunt Francisca sent for was watching Father, Álvaro came to throw insulting words at me for having broken my word. I didn’t think that what he was saying deserved an answer and so I kept silent, but when he said that if Father died it would be my fault, and that he would be at the funeral just to make me feel even more deeply guilty, I couldn’t restrain myself and slapped him. He left without saying another word, but I could see his contempt in his eyes». «You shouldn’t worry about that. You don’t need the judgement of a man who didn’t respect your feelings in order to feel respect for yourself. You didn’t do anything dishonest». «I know, my good Diogo», my sister replied, taking his hand. «That wasn’t what worried me, but my Father’s health. After the doctor had left, Father asked Aunt Francisca to call me to his room and leave us alone. He then swore that he had never really intended to have you locked up and even though he still bore a grudge against you, Diogo, he wouldn’t think about hunting you down either, because you were so dear to both his children. He admitted that all threats were only intended to make me marry Álvaro». «But how did you end up in Asseiceira after all?» Diogo asked. «Did you run away from D. José?» «No, Diogo. I didn’t run away from D. José. It was D. José who forced me to leave, just as he had done before with Pedro». «For having refused to marry Álvaro», I gathered. «Yes, exactly». «It looks like he still hasn’t learned that he can’t force everybody to live according to his will». «After admitting that his threats had never been truthful, he said I had dishonoured him, for he had promised my hand to Álvaro and I was stopping him from keeping his word. He said that despite everything, it had been easier with you. That his dishonour had not been as great because at least, you were no longer living under the same roof. He also said that he wouldn’t kick me out as he had done to you because he thought it would be too cruel for a girl, but that he no longer considered me his daughter. I felt deeply hurt and told him I didn’t intend to continue living with him. Once again, Aunt Francisca was very generous and offered to let me live with her until I married the husband of my choosing, but at that time, Father was there too and the atmosphere became too heavy. Besides, I started witnessing the atrocities committed by the absolutists and I too felt the desire of seeing your cause triumph.

«They needed people in the hospital of Oporto and since they were accepting women, I volunteered, although at that time I was still living at Aunt Francisca’s. Then, camp hospitals started to appear and I have been in several of them, always hoping and yet dreading to find you». «Dreading?» «Can you imagine how many men I saw die in hospital beds in the last two years? I didn’t know what would be worse: never to see you again or see you die in my arms». «Is it true that your hospital has been attacked?» «Yes», she said, clenching her hands and squeezing her lips in an expression of hate. It was the first time I saw that kind of feeling take over my sister and I realized then that the war had also destroyed part of her innocence. «We take care of the wounded from both sides and even some civilians. Two days ago, in the morning, a group of soldiers invaded the convent and started killing people at random. They looked deranged... I don’t even think they were obeying orders from their officers. The Sisters have been spared but they killed people who couldn’t even move. And some of the girls died too».

And with a desperate sob, Luz exclaimed, as tears rolled down her cheeks: «They were my friends! I didn’t know it hurt so much!» «Poor Luz», I exclaimed, as I put my arms around her. «I know exactly how you feel...»

Diogo put his hand over the hand of Maria da Luz. «I know it doesn’t take the pain away», he said. «But never forget that their deaths were heroic. As much so as the deaths of the soldiers who have fallen in the battlefield in these last few years».

Finally, Luz seemed a little calmer. She took a handkerchief from the pocket of her dark green dress and dried her tears. «You are a brave woman, my sister», I said, and I couldn’t help but feel a certain pride. «All of you are». «Yes, but after that incident, most of the girls returned home. The ones you saw are the ones who had their homes destroyed by war and the ones whose families don’t want them back, like me or Eugénia, who you saw talking to your sergeant. She married a liberal against her family’s wishes and the next day, he was murdered by a gang of absolutists». «And even now that she is a widow, her family won’t take her back?» «To her family, she doesn’t count any more than you or I to D. José Ávila».

MEMOIRS OF A LIBERAL Chapter XIII (TEMPORARY)

«Under siege?», the captain shouted, and his voice seemed to make the whole city tremble. «Yes, the absolutist troops have surrounded us». «So that was their plan!»

                For months, we remained under siege. The absolutists, certain that our men would eventually surrender, didn’t make our lives any harder than they had to by military obligation. Sometimes, it was them who, in the backs of their officers and for small bribes, brought us the supplies necessary to our survival. They saw us as rebellious but not necessarily dangerous children whose mischief they tolerated and even condescended with.

However, time would prove them wrong to think that our will would be easily broken. Nor guns, nor hunger nor the lack of conditions could sway those whose cause was the only just one. We had come to win or die, but never to surrender at the hands of the absolutists. Realizing that, our enemies grew impatient, and against those they had thought harmless, they now used measures so harsh as if our army was the hardest to defeat in History.

Our communication with the rest of the country became increasingly harder and the miguelites did not hesitate to have their own soldiers executed if they were suspected of any kind of relation with us. Some of our men, deprived of food and water, fell dead. But those were actually the lucky ones, for there were others who lost their minds. Some, in desperation, tried to sneak out of the siege. Most ended in a pool of blood in the middle of the city. Some, however, did make it.

Sometimes, almost a week went by without more than two small chunks of bread to eat or a sip of water to drink. To me, it was thirst that made me suffer the most and there were days when I was even delusional. I thought I saw my Mother who came to take me and I would smile at her, but Diogo, although also weak from deprivation, was stronger spirited and kept me from following her. «It’s not your Mother that you’re seeing», he’d say as he shook me as if to awaken me. «Your time has not come yet. You have to react!»

And I did react as if instinctively; as if it was the voice of an older brother whom I dared not disobey.

                Our army seemed to have been transformed into a ghost army. Only the stronger ones survived and even those were but a shadow of what they had been when we arrived.

                In the end of July 1833, rumours started according to which the Count of Vila Flor, now Duke of Terceira, was preparing to invade Lisbon and take the capital from the enemy forces. Since they needed to reinforce their defences around that city, the absolutists were forced to loosen the siege and the escapes from our side became more successful. Diogo and I eagerly waited to be sent on one of those escapes, not so much to get away from the deprivation of the siege which was starting to lift up anyway, but because there were now new places of action and it was there that we wanted to be, helping our men to conquer victory.

Once again, it was the Duke of Terceira that led us to actively participate in the struggle against the oppressive power of the miguelites.

From all corners of the country, entire unites were answering the Duke’s call to join him and help him snatch the capital from the enemy’s grasp.

When Diogo and I left Oporto, with some hundred and fifty other men, the siege had not yet been officially lifted, and although the enemy forces could no longer control all our movements, it wasn’t without some difficulty that we got out of the city.

But the greatest hardships would come during the march to Lisbon. Not only we had to deal several times with small groups of absolutists – militaries and civilians – but we also witnessed the desolation that the war was causing throughout the country. Harvests destroyed out of hatred and revenge, families apart, houses looted and devastated, simple men, women and children abused or even murdered... All that we saw as we passed.

I remember a small village and a little house where we found a woman with her child of maybe seven or eight years old, crying over of the dead body of their husband and father, respectively. I forgot where exactly that took place, but I could never erase from my memory the grief on their faces. At times like that, I just wished we had arrived a little sooner to stop such tragedies from happening. I wanted to comfort them, but I was now experienced enough to know that the words of a stranger – even a stranger fighting for the cause that would bring justice to that kind of cruelty – was of little comfort to those who had just lost the people they loved the most.

When they saw the destroyed village, the doors broken down, the dead bodies scattered in the streets, the men who formed the small army of which Diogo and I were a part looked around in horror. From what we heard from the people, a group of absolutist civilians had massacred the village because they were convinced the inhabitants were hiding liberal prisoners. It wasn’t the first time we came across that kind of scene but there are things to which the human sight never gets used to. That’s when, in the middle of the sickly silence that had took over that village, we heard the desperate crying of the woman and the little boy, weeping for his dead father. The windows in the house had been shattered and the door broken down, and so we could see them. I noticed then two tears rolling down my friend’s face. «Are you ok?», I asked. «Thirteen years ago, I was that little scared boy...»

For a moment, the whole army stood silent and motionless. It was impossible not to feel that we should help the people bury the victims, take care of their wounded, protect those who had lost a roof over their heads, but we knew it would be impossible to assist them all and that it would be more useful for us to be on our way and destroy the absolutist power before it made more victims.

                When on July 24 of that same year, the Duke of Terceira was marching on Lisbon, we were already among his troops and it was under his command that Diogo and I lived the rest of the war.

During the time we were in campaign, Diogo and I made new friends and lost new and old friends, we fought under rain and intense heat, we knew great victories and bitter defeats, we witnessed the destruction and the horrors of war. Most times, there was nothing we could do, but whenever circumstances allowed for it, we tried to bring a word of comfort to the victims, or at least, helping them bury their dead.

Under the Duke’s command, we beat the absolutists in several points of the country, while in other locations, other great military leaders, such as the Duke of Saldanha, were doing the same.

But the war was starting to cause in me a profound transformations and it was ever harder to control the nausea that assaulted me whenever I was forced to see human blood being shed, especially if it was the blood of innocents. Countless civilians from both sides had already lost their lives and those for whose rights I was fighting ended up suffering the most.

I started feeling that perhaps that whole war was useless and that maybe the people for whom I was standing up would be better off if the war had never began.

Sometimes, in the battlefield, all I wanted was to run away and scream with all my might to free my chest from the strange oppression that had taken over it.

Once, Diogo said to me that I should learn how to cry but at that time, my pride stopped me from showing any signs of weakness, even when I was alone.