The Andes Dream-Chapter 207: Two Faces of Liberty

With a serious nod, Giuseppe stood up, feigning the unsteady stumble of a drunken man, and allowed Sofia to lead him toward the darkness of the private quarters.

Once inside the tent, the atmosphere shifted. The cheers of the plaza faded into a muffled, distant hum as Sofia moved with a strange, frantic grace to light a single candle on the bedside table. Giuseppe sat on the edge of the cot, watching her every movement through half-closed eyes. He noticed her fingers trembling as she adjusted the wick—a wick that began to sputter with a sickly, blue-tinted flame.

As the sweet, heavy scent of datura slowly filled the cramped space, Giuseppe felt the familiar pull of that false, suffocating sleep creeping into his limbs. Sofia reached into her bodice—not for a token of affection, but for a thin, silver-handled dagger and a coil of silk. She waited for his head to fall forward, for General Giuseppe to finally become a corpse.

But outside, the silence was already breaking.

Following Giuseppe’s secret command, Mateo moved like a ghost through the rows of sleeping soldiers, kicking boots and whispering the call to arms. The camp was no longer celebrating. It had become a coiled snake.

Inside the tent, just as Sofia stepped forward to check his breath, Giuseppe’s hand shot out with the speed of a spring trap, seizing her by the neck.

"You failed. And thanks to what you just did, I now know that bastard of a bishop was planning to kill me."

With a sharp motion, he pushed the candle away, sending the poisoned smoke spilling out of the tent and into the night air.

"Now let me give you some advice—escape. Because after the bishop and those paladins discover that you failed, they are going to try to kill you." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

He shoved her toward the bed with enough force to hurt her, but not enough to kill.

"Good luck."

Without another word, he stepped outside.

At least two thousand troops stood ready in the darkness, but Giuseppe was not pleased. He looked at Mateo.

"There are fewer than I thought."

Mateo shrugged helplessly."Most of the soldiers have families among the servants of those paladins. Even if they want to escape, they wouldn’t dare—their families would pay the price. Two thousand is already a lot. Most are single men, or men whose families work in the city and came to celebrate or help during the festivities. They are the only ones who can leave with us."

Giuseppe exhaled slowly."Fine. Then we need to find a place to invade and establish our own headquarters. What do you think? Should we take the Gulf of Urabá?"

Mateo shook his head immediately."Impossible, sir. With only two thousand troops, it would be suicide. It would be better to try to conquer Cartagena de Indias."

Giuseppe raised an eyebrow."Oh? Why? Isn’t that just a small port city? I doubt it has much defense."

Mateo spoke carefully, a trace of fear in his voice."Sir... that place is the center of the commercial interests of much of Europe. Families representing Portugal, the United Kingdom, and France are there—I’ve even heard of agents connected to Prussia and several smaller states of the Holy Roman Empire.

Daring to take Cartagena would be the same as declaring war on all of Europe. That wouldn’t be taking territory—it would be inviting an entire pack of wolves onto the continent."

Giuseppe chuckled softly."Good. I’m glad you understand a little more about what we can and cannot do. What about Cali? From the documents I managed to steal, that place is full of food—enough to arm a much larger army. With that, we could try to attack Quito and form our own power."

Mateo fell silent, thinking deeply, his gaze lost somewhere beyond the campfires. After a moment, he nodded."It’s not a bad idea. Until the Spanish Empire defeats the fanatics in Santa Fe and deals with the Gómez family, it will be difficult for them to attack us. Even if they tried to invade from Bogotá, they would need far more troops—and after their defeat at our hands, I’m almost certain they’ll remain on the defensive.

Though... we should still be wary of the Gómez family. I’ve heard they are expanding. The last news I received was that they took Rionegro from Spanish control—and Spain did nothing to stop it."

Giuseppe frowned, firelight tracing a sharp line across his brow."Why didn’t they intervene? Why focus on the theocracy while leaving that family alone?"

Mateo gave a quiet, knowing chuckle."Because they were smart. They haven’t declared independence, so people still consider them loyal to the Crown. And Rionegro was practically abandoned anyway.

The way that man takes territory is different. He offers protection in exchange for partial control—the right to sell their goods, to travel without constant inspection. Some indigenous groups have begun to attack them, but they aren’t truly their enemies. I’ve also heard strange troops have appeared in their lands... terrifying men. They’re training the locals, turning them into a disciplined force. And they seem to be building a large armory in Medellín, though no one yet knows what it is meant to produce."

Giuseppe’s expression tightened with sudden alarm."You’re saying the Gómez family is not only taking territory, but building industry as well? And they don’t impose total control—they preserve the status quo while taking only limited authority? That’s... bad. With a model like that, they’ll expand quickly."

Mateo shrugged, though unease flickered across his face."It doesn’t really matter. They’re far from us."

Giuseppe sighed. "That’s true for now. But can you guarantee it will remain that way in the future? We must begin looking three to five years ahead. If they manage to digest enough territory, they will become a direct threat. And there is something else that worries me—the fact that they are building factories. That knowledge comes from Europe, which means they must have someone there helping them. And that help may not be limited to knowledge. It could mean weapons... even ships. In my eyes, they are the greatest danger. The Spanish are too busy in Europe to send troops. The fanatics are too pompous, trapped in a foolish system that will eventually collapse from within. But the Gómez family is smarter. They invest in their cities, sell goods abroad—probably to Europe—earn money, train elite soldiers, and, surrounded by mountains, they are the most likely to rise into a true power."

Mateo looked at the general, surprised by Giuseppe’s vision. To him, the Gómez family had always seemed like nothing more than wealthy landlords, no different from the Paladins within the fanatic order. Yet the general clearly saw something else. Then, as if recalling a forgotten detail, he struck his forehead lightly. "Sir, I just remembered—the son of the patriarch of the Gómez family is studying in Göttingen. There was quite an uproar at the time because, as you know, they are pagans and do not follow the Catholic Church. Many religious families spoke terribly of them. But the merchants—and those with more liberal ideas—supported the Gómez."

Giuseppe’s face darkened. "That’s bad. It means they are going to compete against us, Mateo. This will force us to look toward the civilian sphere, and that is not exactly my specialty.""What do you mean, sir?" Mateo asked, confused. "Aren’t the Gómez just... shopkeepers with delusions of grandeur?"Giuseppe exhaled slowly. "We represent liberal ideas, Mateo. But so do they. And that is the most dangerous trap in politics. If only one man offers liberty, the oppressed will flock to him like moths to a flame. But if there are two, people begin to compare. They begin to choose. And the Gómez family is offering a version of liberty that is very easy to swallow."

He pointed north, toward Medellín. "Carlos Gómez isn’t just selling Roman cement and alcohol. He is selling a cycle of power. His factories fund his army, and his army protects his factories. You say he has hired a strange army? Maledizione. If they are truly disciplined, then they must be Prussian—and they do not think like us. They do not care about the ’spirit of the revolution’ or the ’glory of the nation.’ They care about clockwork efficiency. Elite troops—cold, precise. While I try to inspire men to become citizens, the Prussian turns them into cogs in a machine."

Giuseppe began to pace, his boots clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor. "Carlos is clever. He does not seize total control; he takes functional control. He gives the people ’freedom of trade’—the freedom to buy his goods, to work in his factories. And with his son in Göttingen feeding him constant knowledge, that becomes a cycle of tangible liberty. A man can feel a coin in his pocket; he cannot feel the weight of a Civil Code until he stands in a courtroom. If the people must choose between a General who offers them a Constitution and a Merchant who offers them a job—and a Prussian-trained guard to keep the streets safe—they will choose the Merchant every time."

He stopped and looked at Mateo with a grim, almost weary expression. "I am a General, Mateo. I know how to lead men to die for a cause. But the Gómez are merchants; they know how to make men live for a profit. To defeat the Bishop, I need only better cannons. To defeat Carlos Gómez, I must prove that my Republic is more profitable than his Industry. And right now... I am not sure it is."