"Men can carry me," he said savagely. "Or have all the men at Petaca become too weak!"
Raul turned to leave, but waited a moment.
"Raul—will Caterina want me?" The old man asked humbly, his voice normal.
"It might help her."
"Then?"
"I'll arrange for you to be carried up later."
At the stable, Salvador and others were stacking roof tiles knocked off by the fallen eucalyptus. Branches of the huge tree lashed at the men, and the air smelled of oil from the bruised leaves and bark. Someone inside the stable bawled an order; cattle shuffled; a hinge of wind opened and closed. Raul inspected the tree, recalling its shaggy beauty, and fought the gale as he climbed between branches. Someone began to chop at a branch that had gouged the roof. Salvador tapped Raul's arm.
"I'll get men with a bucksaw," he said.
"Have them saw the trunk close to the roots ... about here," said Raul, indicating a bruise on the tree. "Cut it there and then it can be yanked away from the stable wall."
"I'll bring some oxen," said Salvador.