Aztec Rage (71 page)

“Yes, we need to recover the gold before the bandidos do.”

“To buy your husband's freedom,” I added.

Isabella's hand flew to her mouth. “Of course, that's what I meant . . . to buy his freedom.”

“How do we get the gold?” I asked.

The padre chuckled. “That's why the señora is here. She doesn't have the funds to buy her husband's freedom and can't retrieve the gold until her husband is free. She's asked that I intercede. As you know, Juan, many of our revolucionarios operate independently.”

I nodded and had the good manners not to mention that some of them were more bandits than revolucionarios.

“In this case, the leader of the group—a man who calls himself General López—is not willing simply to turn over the marqués to us. He wants to be paid. After all, he has to feed his troops.”

“But of course,” I muttered.

How can they maintain themselves in pulque and putas if they don't steal?

“Due to the panic gripping the colony, the señora cannot raise the ransom.”

“How much is he asking?”

“Five thousand pesos.”

I shrugged. “Not a king's ransom.”

“He doesn't know the man is a marqués. Even if she raised the ransom, she probably couldn't get to López, who is headquartered far north in León. The entire Bajío is in the hands of the revolutionary movement. There is also the matter of insuring that General Lopez keeps his promise once he is paid.”

He nodded at Isabella. “What I have arranged with the señora is very simple: We will provide safe conduct to León. We will also pay the ransom demand to Lopez. In return, we will get half of the gold that the marqués has hidden. She believes his gold hoard to be in excess of two hundred thousand pesos.”

“Yes, that's how much he got from the sale,” she said.

The padre raised his hands and smiled at me. “You see how simple it is, Juan? You escort the señora and her husband's nephew to León, pay the ransom, collect the gold, and bring half of it back to me.”

I kept a straight face. “Sí, simple beyond words.”

The padre told them he needed to speak to me alone about military matters, and they left. Isabella gave me a warm smile as she exited.

As soon as they were out the door, I said, “No problem, padre. I escort these people across hundreds of miles of territory patrolled by roving bands of highwaymen and royal army patrols. If I don't get caught and murdered by bandidos or the viceroy's men, I pay off this López, who calls himself a general, and hope he doesn't get suspicious and fry my feet over an open fire to find out where the rest of the money is. Assuming I fool him and obtain the marqués's freedom, I still have to learn the location of the hidden gold and seize half of it before Don Humberto and his nephew can murder me. Then, after dodging the roving bands of bandidos and royal soldiers for hundreds of more miles, I return with the gold.”

I was immediately embarrassed. “The mission is insignificant compared to what you have to deal with every day.”

“We all have our duty to perform. Yours is as dangerous as those soldiers who receive the first volley from the enemy's muskets. I'm asking if you will do this mission, Juan, not commanding you to do so. I'm sure you can understand the importance of the marqués's gold to our cause.”

I shrugged. “A hundred thousand pesos is a lot of money. By coincidence, it's the same amount the viceroy is offering for your life.”

“If I could give my life and spare our people the horrors of war, I would cheerfully deliver myself to his assassin.”

“When do you want us to leave for León?”

“In the morning, but not directly to León. The most direct route to the north would take you into the arms of royal forces. I need to get a personal message to José Torres, who is operating somewhere near Guadalajara. This amazing man was nothing more than an uneducated laborer who asked me to permit him and a few followers to seize Guadalajara. At first I was taken aback, but something about him caused me to have faith. I've heard that he has had some success against royal forces in the area. I will give you a message to deliver to him. Hopefully, you will be able to locate him.”

“This General López—”

“A bandit and murderer with no alliance to our cause but not a stupid man. A diamondback rattles before it strikes; López doesn't. And watch your back with the marqués's nephew. He needs us now, but under his breeches he's a gachupine. Once the gold is recovered, your death would profit him greatly.”

The padre didn't mention Isabella. I didn't know if Marina had told him of our history but decided not to bring up the subject. I was confused as to what my own feelings were.

Father Hidalgo gripped my shoulder. “Juan, when I said you were my right hand, I didn't express all that you have meant to me. You have been my eyes and ears, and I'll sorely miss you. But your mission is important. The marqués's gold can buy us cannons and muskets.”

I paused at the door while he made one more observation.

“The capital is a transcendently beautiful city. Such beauty is singularly rare and eternally precious. It would be a great sin to destroy God's gift.”

NINETY-NINE

I
SABELLA AND RENATO
waited for me outside.

“I will need a good horse,” Renato said, “and a spare. Bring me the best mounts in the camp, and I will select the ones I want. My saddle and—”

I wasn't certain if it was the look on my face or the look of alarm on Isabella's face as she reached out and grabbed his arm. “Renato—”

I stepped closer to him, causing him to take a step back. “Listen, Señor Nephew, your life's blood is not hemorrhaging from your throat, and cojones
still tremble between your legs only because the padre asked me to help Isabella. But you're irrelevant to this mission. If you continue to annoy me, I'll cut out your liver and feed it to a cur.”

Isabella stepped close enough for me to smell her sweetness. “Juan, you must forgive him. He's from Spain and is not aware that you were . . . are . . . a caballero. Please do not take offense. I need your assistance. Will you give it to me?”

“The last time I answered your call I was nearly murdered.” I grinned. “But I am under the padre's command. I'll assist in getting your loving husband back into your arms and his gold for our cause.”

“Gracias, Juan, that's all I wish.”

“We leave at dawn,” I told them. I jerked my head toward the corralled horses. “Find mounts for yourself and be prepared to pay for them. We'll use the six mules attached to your carriage.”

“Use for what?” Renato said. “They're needed to pull the marquesa's coach.”

“She won't be traveling by coach.”

“She can't ride a—”

“Do I appear dense to you? Or are you simply so stupid you have no understanding of how we must travel?”

He stiffened, and his hand went to his dagger. Isabella grabbed his arm again. I prayed he would draw his blade.

“Renato, you must apologize to Juan,” she said.

She couldn't have humiliated him more had she smacked his face.

“It is all right, Señora Marquesa.” I laughed. “When I require an apology, I'll beat it out of him.”

“
Renato!
“ She grabbed his dagger hand. “Stop it!”

He took a deep breath, and then underwent a complete metamorphosis: his eyes glazed over as if he had been sniffing loco weed, and he smiled.

“My apologies, . . .
señor
.”

His words sickened my stomach. I'd never sung with the angels, but I hadn't slithered like a snake, either. A man of honor would have pulled his weapon. To swallow my insult while harboring murderous rage was deception, not honor.

“We can't take your coach,” I told her. “It's too slow and would attract bandidos. You'll ride in a litter so we can leave the main road. If we stay on the road, a royal patrol or band of bandidos will quickly waylay us. Two of your carriage mules will be used to straddle the litter; the others will carry supplies.” I nodded toward the inn. “The landlord has a litter out back. Buy it from him.”

I left the two of them and found Marina, standing by the stable.

“I need four vaqueros,” I told her, “good riders who have proven themselves in battle and who can use a machete for something more than chopping maguey. I need—”

“Your needs have already been answered, Señor Lépero. The padre told me to look to your supplies and honor guard this morning. I have twelve men for you, all skilled with horses and weapons and blessed with courage. They all have muskets, the oldest and rustiest that we have, but only one ball each.” She grinned. “You see, the padre learned much about guerrilla warfare from you.”

“How is it, señorita, that I seem to always be the last to know what course my life will take?”

She smiled, sweet and sour. “Perhaps it is because you do not know how to deal with life yourself. You approach life much like an enraged bull bleeding from the banderillas impaling its shoulders. You stomp wildly around, blindly; no one knows what man you will gore or what woman you will mount.”

I left her after agreeing I would ride out to a lake and take a bath before I crawled into bed with her later. When I returned from my bath, I gave Tempest extra feed and explained to him that we would be heading north in the morning.

“Talking to your horse?”

Isabella had entered the shed behind me. She shook her head. “That always annoyed me when you courted me in Guanajuato. I never knew whom you loved the most, the horse or me.”

Tempest answered for me with a whinny. I stroked the side of his neck. “Horses are much more loyal than women.”

“Yes, I know. You can starve them, beat them, ride them until they drop, and all they require is a few handfuls of grain. Women require much more.”

“Some women require even more than other women,” I murmured.

“And what do you have to offer a woman, Juan Zavala? One day you were the grandest caballero in Guanajuato and the next you were a murderous bandido. Word comes that you died in the Yucatán, and then you return from the dead as a hero of the war in Spain. Rather than leading a peaceful life, on your return you approach a married woman, embarrassing me and humiliating my husband, who would suffer sure death if he called you out.”

“You lured me into a trap.”

“They said they would beat you to restore my husband's honor. What did you expect me to do? How many women are entitled to conduct their own affairs? Make their own decisions? I did what my husband told me to do because I'm a good wife.”

I threw the feed bucket against the wall. “They disgraced me in Guanajuato and nearly murdered me in Méjico City, and I was at fault? Maybe I'm responsible for your husband's capture, too?”

She frowned at me. “Of course you're responsible. The humiliation you dealt caused business problems for him. Men who had done business with him for years suddenly called in his loans, so he went to Zacatecas to sell his mining interest.”

¡Ay! The woman was saying that I was the source of her problems, the loss of her husband and fortune? The accusation was so unexpected, I didn't know what to say.

She came closer. “Whatever happened in the past must be forgotten. We must start over again. Back in the capital they say that this revolution the padre has started will change the face of the colony, no matter who wins. Things will change for us, too, Juan. Help me free my husband, recover my fortune, and we shall be together forever.”

Later that evening, I took Marina with a pent-up passion that had raged in me for years. Spent, I rolled off her and lay gasping for breath. I saw the flash of the knife blade in the light of the single candle burning in the room. I jerked back, and the blade barely missed my throat but caught my ear. I rolled away from Marina and onto my feet, clutching my cut ear.

“I'm bleeding.”

“I'm sorry I missed your jugular.”

“Have you gone loco?”

She threw the knife aside and slipped back under the blankets.

“If you call me Isabella again, I will cut off your cojones and shove them down your throat.”

¡Ay de mí!

ONE HUNDRED