The Ilokana

Chapter Five

Vigan -  5 de Noviembre de 1703

Manong Juliano wasn't even buried yet when the accusations started. His younger brother was the first to lash out, though he was only reflecting the anger and frustration the rest of the family felt.

The Spaniards were quick to rally around Tomás, the accused. He was of noble lineage, they argued, and from a branch of the crown. What reason would he have to kill a Filipino in the dead of the night?

"What reason did he have to be out at night?" her cousin argued. "They're protecting him!"

Of course they would. Tomás was one of their own and a favorite of the old settlers. He was charming and handsome. He was musical and was at church every Sunday, escorting his aunt. But even the Spaniards were growing frustrated as Tomás refused to defend himself with other than "I didn't kill him".

The elders and priests urged him to reveal where he was that night and his reasons for being out. His lips were closed tight and he only looked ahead with a solemn expression.

And her heart broke.

Leona could do almost nothing to keep herself from crying out and protesting the accusation. His eyes seemed to pierce the crowd around them to meet hers with silent resolution when he was pulled to he plaza and accused.  His silence was his decision and he would not sully her reputation.

Tears at welled at her eyes. She would willingly sully hers if it cleared his name, but as his eyes bore into hers, she couldn't speak. If she did, she knew he'd deny her claims. He was a frustrating, foolish, but chivalrous man. Leona couldn't help but hate and and love him more.

Once Manong Juliano was buried, they would take Tomás to the governor to be trialed for her cousin's murder. Until then, he was to remain in a room at his aunt's house. The Spanish elders refused to hand him over to be properly jailed.

Tomás might not have made it to the jail, anyway. News that he killed the son of a well-loved family spread across town and the people were angry. Leona couldn't help but overhear the bits of conversations between people as she went to the market or walked through town.

"They should drag him out and put him in jail!"

"If I see him, I'd kill him myself! He's denying it when it's clear he did it!"

Tomás was called many names Leona would rather forget and it made her sick to be so helpless. When she wasn't sick, she was furious. Knowing that it wasn't Tomás who killed her cousin meant that there was someone else who did and they were getting away. The anger was making her tense and irritable.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Now was not the time to lose herself in emotion. She needed to think.

The family house was chaotic at the moment and everywhere she went, rumors were flying and wearing her down. Leona wanted to be alone, away from all the people who were against Tomás and by association, her.

Her eyes were drawn to the stone and brick church across the plaza. That time of day, no masses were being held and the doors were closed. Without a word, Leona crossed the plaza to the town's main church, her wrapped skirt rustling as her sandals made small thuds against the ground. She glanced around as she stood by the wooden doors, then grasped the iron handle and pulled.

She half expected it to be locked, but wasn't surprised when it opened. Leona looked over her shoulder once more and slipped into the building. The interior was surprisingly cooler than it was outside. Perhaps it was due to being void of other people.