As they marched, the silence was broken only by the steady clink of the guards' equipment and the old man's uneven breathing.
Krugger moved with quiet focus, his attention fixed on the terrain. To any observer, he seemed merely alert—but in truth, his mind was working continuously, measuring distances, calculating lines of sight, imagining where artillery might be placed and how fire could be directed across the land.
After a time, recalling something, he spoke:
"Do you know of a place where a group of soldiers could enter this region without attracting the attention of the authorities in Mompox?"
The old man did not answer immediately. He continued walking for a few steps before speaking.
"You are looking for the Brazo de Loba," he said at last, his voice low, as if the jungle itself might be listening.
"The Spanish focus on the Brazo de Mompox. That is where trade flows, where their attention is fixed. But the Loba…" He shook his head slightly. "That is a ghost's path."
