the olive and almond groves were badly damaged.”
Will’s mouth tightened as he surveyed the damage. “This kind of gratuitous destruction is vile. What did it profit them to destroy sources of food?”
“General Baudin seemed very fond of gratuitous destruction,” Athena said, her voice flat. “He and his men were like a swarm of locusts, destroying everything they passed over. The vineyards suffered even more.”
They emerged from the damaged grove and Will saw great stretches of terraced vineyards stepping their way down the south-facing hills to the river that ran through the heart of the valley. His mouth tightened when he saw that most of the vines had been burned. A few had survived and were now leafing, but the vast majority had been destroyed, leaving the desolate terraces marred by lifeless blackened vines.
“I’m told that grapes have been grown on these hills since before the time of the Romans,” Athena said. “Now look at them! Baudin and his men were furious at how the Gabrileños fled and concealed so much of value. Before they set the fires, they packed straw around the bases of the vines so the heat would destroy the roots. As you see, very few vines survived.”
“It will take several years to develop new vines, won’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes, even if there were good cuttings available, it would take years. And we have very few good cuttings.”
As they turned right to follow a narrow road that ran between two sets of terraces, Will asked, “Where did people take refuge?”
“The valley has many caves, some very deep. Large enough to shelter everyone in San Gabriel along with a few of their most valuable possessions. Not everyone got to safety, but most did,” Athena explained. “Part of our preparations was to disguise the cave entrances so they were difficult for strangers to find.”
“But the fields couldn’t be hidden. I see wheat sprouting ahead of us.” He calculated the ripeness of the crops when the French had come through the year before. “The invasion was before the harvest, wasn’t it? Did they torch the fields?”
“Yes, and for an encore, they tore apart the valley gristmills. We’ll ride by the largest mill later so you can see the damage. The mills are repairable, but we haven’t been able to spare the labor to raise waterwheels and millstones. Not when there’s no grain to grind and there are so many other urgent tasks.”
Colonel Duval had been right to worry about this little country. “It must have been a hungry winter. Did the French take most of the livestock?”
“Yes, only a few of the best beasts could be hidden in the caves. They also carried off any other food they could find. Baudin’s army probably didn’t have to forage again until they were halfway across Spain.”
Will studied Athena’s elegant, determined profile, thinking he’d never met a woman like her. “How did people survive through the winter?”
Athena shrugged. “I used my savings and persuaded my trustee to advance me this year’s income. I suspect that he actually loaned me the money out of his own pocket. For which I’m grateful, because otherwise there would have been people dying of starvation. I was able to supplement the available food with staples like flour, beans, potatoes, and dried cod. I used the last of my funds to buy seed stock, but I couldn’t get as much as was needed.”
Though starvation was a familiar legacy of war, Will hated to think of the inhabitants of this pleasant valley in such desperate straits. “The Gabrileños are lucky you’re here. Feeding a whole country, even a small one, is an expensive proposition.”
“I’m not much of an heiress, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Athena said. “But I inherited a bit of money from my mother, and my father pays a very small quarterly allowance with the understanding that I never, ever mention that I’m related to him.”
Will’s mouth tightened. “You’d best not tell me the