The Andes Dream

The next day, Francisco went looking for his grandfather. When he found him reviewing documents related to the new training regimen, he approached and said:

"Grandfather, do you know the directors of the University of Hanover?"

Johann lifted his head, surprised."Do you need them for something? Your enrollment is in January. There shouldn't be a need to speak with them so soon."

Francisco nodded."I want access to the library. They told me that without the approval of one of the university directors, it's impossible to enter before enrollment. But since there are still more than two months before I actually become a student, I'd rather start studying early."

Johann thought for a moment, then nodded."Very well. We'll go this afternoon. The old man is probably buried in his studies, but he owes me a few favors. It shouldn't be difficult."

Francisco blinked. "He owes you?"

Johann leaned back slightly."That's right. During the War of Succession, for reasons only he knows, he traveled to Prussia searching for books. Strange behavior for someone who was already the director of Göttingen. I happened to save him during one of the conflicts, so he owes me. And because I earned the king of Prussia's recommendation, your admission to Göttingen won't count against his favor."

Francisco nodded, impressed by how far Johann's influence extended."It seems your time as a general helped more than I thought. Thank you, Grandfather. Also… I have another question. Are you planning to return with the soldiers next year?"

Johann sighed deeply."I'm not sure. It's a question I've been avoiding. To be honest, I want to spend more time with you, my grandson. But I'm also worried about sending my men to New Granada without my guidance—especially with those mercenaries accompanying them."

Francisco frowned thoughtfully."Don't you have someone with enough prestige to control them?"

Johann shrugged helplessly."Not really. Most of the men came because of me—and because of the opportunities offered in New Granada. In the end, they're mercenaries. They work for money. Turning them into disciplined soldiers is difficult."

Francisco sighed, understanding his dilemma."I don't know how long I'll be in Göttingen… and your age…"He didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear. Johann was already old. There was no guarantee he would still be alive six years later. Francisco might only have a few months left with him.

Johann gave a small, bitter chuckle."The saddest thing is finding out about your existence so late. If I had known sooner, perhaps we could have spent many more years together. But… God has His plans."

Francisco nodded, then added—trying to lift his grandfather's spirits:"Well, you still have Isabella. She's living with my father in New Granada."

Johann's expression softened immediately."Does she also have your mother's eyes?"

Francisco nodded."Yes, Grandpa. She resembles my father more, but her eyes… they're still my mother's."

"That's good," Johann murmured, smiling faintly. "It means I'll have her company in my final years. I'm sorry I couldn't enjoy the chance to know you earlier, kid. I don't know if I'll still be alive in six years… but having you and Isabella, that already makes me happy. After my wife and daughter disappeared, I drowned myself in grief for years—drinking until sleep, fighting without caring if I survived the next battle. You two gave me hope again. That's worth more than anything."

Francisco smiled gently."I'm happy to have met you too. My mother died when I was still young, and Isabella never had the chance to meet her. So hearing about her past from you… it means a lot."

Johann chuckled softly."That's good, kid."

He grew silent for a moment, then—hesitantly—asked:"May I ask… how were her last years?"

Francisco thought for a moment before answering."I don't remember much. I was still a child when it happened. I only remember she was strong but kind. When I fell from trees, she was always there to stop my tears and tell me that crying was fine—but that I shouldn't rely on it. That crying is a tool for the weak—"

Johann finished the old phrase for him, voice trembling:"—and the strong smile after a fall."He exhaled shakily. "I used to tell her that when she was little and cried. So she remembered…"

His eyes darkened with a different question."But I'm curious. It made sense that I lost track of them after the famine… but why didn't she ever look for me? I was a soldier—people knew I was alive."

Francisco hesitated. But seeing Johann's serious gaze, he spoke honestly."I don't know the full story. Neither does my father. But… I remember hearing that when she was young, she felt some resentment toward you. And after my grandmother died, that resentment grew. She never spoke much about you. My father and grandfather believed she either thought you abandoned them, or that you had died somewhere… so they didn't insist on talking about you."

Johann nodded slowly, pain tightening his jaw."I suppose that's understandable. After all… it's true. If I hadn't left them to join the army, maybe we could have survived the famine together. And even going to New Granada… I could have helped protect them, stopped the tragedy."

He lifted a hand and wiped a tear from his reddened eyes.

Francisco spoke softly."But you shouldn't worry too much, Grandpa. My father also said she looked… a little happy while writing the letter we sent you. He thinks she probably regretted never speaking to you again once she ended up in New Granada."

Johann's expression brightened slightly."Really? She felt that way?"

Francisco nodded and sighed."It seems she cried a lot while writing it. My father believes she already knew her chances of survival were slim after giving birth to Isabella, so she prepared for the possibility that she wouldn't make it. He stayed with her the whole time. And during the part addressed to you… she cried on his shoulder while writing it."

Johann exhaled deeply."Foolish girl… It wasn't your fault. It was your father's fault for not being able to protect you," he murmured, staring into nothing, as if his words could somehow reach his daughter's soul on the other side.

Francisco sighed, feeling the painful complexity of his family's past.

Suddenly Johann straightened slightly."I'm going to New Granada with the soldiers," he declared. "You'll be relatively safe here in Hanover, far from the Spanish Empire. Aside from that girl Inez, no one here would hurt you. But your sister in New Granada is alone in enemy territory. I fear Spain might learn of your intentions and strike your father and sister in retaliation."

Francisco nodded thoughtfully."I think you're right. It's better if you're there protecting her. But I'd prefer if you left a couple of soldiers here—just in case Inez has support in this place. Or ask for more to be sent."

Johann considered it, then nodded."That's true. Better to be prepared. And you must be prepared as well. You may be forced to kill her eventually. My advice? Don't hesitate. Doubt could cause long-term problems."

Francisco nodded solemnly."I know, Grandpa. If it comes to that, I'll make sure she doesn't become a threat."

Johann nodded approvingly."Good. Now, let's have lunch. We'll talk about today's meeting."

Francisco nodded, then asked,"Who are we going to see, Grandpa? Someone important?"

Johann chuckled."If you've read enough, you may have heard of him—Christian Gottlob Heyne. In Germany, he's considered the father of the German Enlightenment. He practically built this university into what it is today. You should show him respect. It's also thanks to him that I was able to gather troops in Göttingen without the Hanover Electorate interfering."

Francisco nodded solemnly."I have heard of him. He's practically a legend."

Johann chuckled as he closed the door of his room and walked beside Francisco toward the inn."Once you meet him, you'll learn he's also stubborn as hell. When he makes a decision, no one can stop him. That's the reason I ended up saving his ass."

Francisco let out a small laugh."Does he also teach in Göttingen? I heard he has a great deal of knowledge about history, cultures, and civilizations. Considering I still don't know what system to implement for New Granada's government, maybe his words could help me with that."

Johann chuckled again. Once they were seated and had ordered ale and some food, he answered:"You two will probably get along well once you get to know each other. And yes, he teaches—though not history or anything like that. He teaches rhetoric. I don't fully understand what it is, but he says it's the power of persuasion, the ability to convince people. Honestly, I sneered when he told me that. I prefer to punch a man until he does what I say."

Francisco laughed at his grandfather's bluntness. And, truthfully, he thought, the old man wasn't wrong—nowadays convincing with fists was the logical solution for most people and nations. Only politicians preferred convincing with reason… though even they turned to fists when they couldn't achieve their goals otherwise.