by J. T. Edson
‘You mean that he’s been sent here to spy on us?’
‘It’s possible. We’ve known all along that El Presidente would want to learn the real reason why we turned back.’
‘Do you think that it’s not true he was defeated at San Jacinto?’ Beatriz asked, unbuttoning the front of her husband’s trousers.
Instead of replying immediately, Alvarez rolled from his upper position and shoved the woman’s hands away. Her question had started a train of thought and he wanted to consider it without distraction.
‘He wouldn’t take a chance on lying about something as important as that,’ the Paymaster concluded, half to himself as he lay on his side ignoring Beatriz as she moved restlessly. ‘Or if he had, he’d have told us that Santa Anna was either killed in the fighting, or held prisoner and awaiting execution.’
‘Then he must have been speaking the truth,’ the woman suggested, hoping to bring her husband back to a receptive frame of mind and give her the pleasure she was anticipating. She was completely sincere in her praise of his sexual prowess. ‘Santa Anna might have intended to send him after defeating the Texians, and when the battle went the other way, the gringo could well have decided that he might as well turn what he had learned to his own advantage. Texas wouldn’t be a very healthy place for a renegade and, as he told us, he daren’t go back to the United States. So where else would be better for him than in the service of the man whom he guessed was planning to become the next Presidente of Mexico.’
“You could be correct, querida,’ Alvarez said thoughtfully, for the summation almost duplicated his own. ‘I think he deserves to be examined much more closely before we decide whether to have him accepted or rejected. Having seen the way he won Urrea and Badillo over, I agree with you about his intelligence. Handled correctly, he could be very useful to us. Apart from anything else, I wouldn’t be averse to having a man in Badillo’s confidence.’
‘Do you want me to sound him out and see what I can learn?’ Beatriz inquired, knowing that her husband preferred to let her handle such matters so as to remain unsuspected in the background himself.
‘It would be as well, querida,’ Alvarez admitted, scooping her into his arms and assuming the upper position once more. ‘If we find out he’s not to be trusted, or won’t be of any use to us, we can always have Urrea get rid of him.’
Having other things on her mind, Beatriz did not reply.
~*~
Ole Devil Hardin found it somewhat disconcerting to accompany Major Carlos Badillo into the hacienda’s big and well lit dining room. As he entered he realized he was the target of everybody’s eyes. Apart from the people he had met in Urrea’s office, there were half a dozen officers from each of the two regiments, a couple of priests and ten women. In addition to having washed and shaved, Tommy Okasi had done a good job of tidying the young Texian’s clothing and had put a high polish to his boots. Although he had left the Manton pistol in his quarters, the bowie knife hung sheathed on his belt. Badillo had raised no objection to the weapon on collecting him and had, in fact, given permission for him to retain it on his person.
Looking around, the young Texian deduced that the various officers were aware of their respective superiors’ antipathy towards one another and, in part at least, shared it. That was, he decided as he studied the two groups, not entirely unexpected. To a man, the members of the Tamaulipa Lancers originated from the land-owning, caballero class. On the other hand, the officers of the ‘Landero’ Line Infantry Battalion were just as obviously from a lower level of society and clearly ill at east in such comparatively opulent surroundings. Despite the fact that most of the females present were with the horse soldiers, the infantrymen made no attempt to mingle.
If the scowls being thrown Ole Devil’s way from the infantry party meant anything, either Colonel Sebastian Saucedo had made known his sentiments or his men hated all gringos indiscriminately. However, seeing the General nodding amiably to the young Texian, they contented themselves with frowns and made no attempt to approach him.
On the other hand, perhaps because of their rivals’ attitudes, the Lancers behaved in a cordial fashion when Badillo took Ole Devil across and introduced him. If any of them felt resentment, or hostility, over what had happened to Captain Escalier, they took care to conceal their emotions. The Texian deduced that they might have some reservations about granting him complete acceptance, but were willing to be sociable because that was what the major wanted.
Before there could be any extensive conversation, Urrea asked his guests to take their seats. Ole Devil was not greatly surprised when the Lancer officers went to one side of the table and the infantrymen to the other. For his part, the young Texian was seated near the head of the table between Badillo and one of the female guests. Assuming that she was the partner of the officer on her other side, Ole Devil was careful not to do anything which might provoke resentment. During the time he had spent in Texas, he had dined sufficiently often with well-to-do Chicano families to have learned the acceptable social graces. Conscious of Badillo’s subordinates watching surreptitiously, he felt sure that he was conveying the correct impression. They would be more willing to stand by him against the uncouth foot soldiers if they believed he came from a background similar to their own. Before the main course was served, they appeared to be satisfied on that point.
Sitting at the bottom of the table, facing Urrea along its length, Beatriz Alvarez studied Ole Devil. So far she had made no attempt to begin her proposed investigations. She had no wish to arouse the jealousies of the General, Saucedo or Badillo, each of whom had cause to believe she preferred him far more than her husband. During their brief contact before the meal, she had treated the young Texian politely yet with a hint of condescension, her attitude implying that, while she was grateful to him, he was after all merely a social inferior who had done no more than his duty by rescuing her. Such behavior, she had felt sure, would make him more amenable to cultivation when a suitable opportunity arose.
Although the woman had hoped to make the preliminary steps in her investigation later in the evening, the chance to do so was denied her. While the servants were passing around cups of coffee, Urrea’s major domo entered, followed by an exhausted-looking man in a trail dirty, disheveled military uniform. Ole Devil identified the newcomers attire as that of a captain in a cavalry regiment under the command of General Martin Perfecto Cós. Obviously he had escaped either during or since the battle, but that did not explain why he had come—clearly at considerable speed—to Urrea’s headquarters. One thing was for sure, the General, among others, recognized the man.
‘Captain Seguin!’ Urrea boomed, lurching hurriedly to his feet and tossing aside his napkin. ‘Where did you come fr—?’
‘General!’ the newcomer interrupted, advancing hurriedly. ‘I’ve got some ba—important news for you.’
‘What is it?’ Urrea demanded.
‘It’s important,’ Seguin repeated and threw a pointed look at the other officers who were making their interest obvious. ‘And confidential.’
‘Perhaps we had better hear it in your office, General,’ Alvarez suggested from his place at Saucedo’s right.
‘That would be best,’ the colonel agreed, also rising and his whole attitude showed that he intended to be present during the interview.
Watching Badillo stand, obviously equally determined to attend the meeting, Ole Devil thought fast. He had an unpleasant suspicion of what had brought Seguin to Urrea’s hacienda and he did not care for some of the possibilities that might occur. So he decided that it would be advisable for him to hear the news which the captain had ridden so far and so hard to deliver. That raised the problem of how to satisfy his curiosity. Attempting to duplicate Badillo’s eavesdropping at the door would be impossible in the face of the considerable coming and going in the main hall. Nor would the chances be better outside the building. Not only was there nowhere to hide near the office’s window, but the area was patrolled regularly by sent
ries who knew better than to shirk their duties.
There was, Ole Devil concluded, only one way in which he might achieve his desire.
Waiting until the other men had turned away from the table, the young Texian eased back his chair and stood up. Before any of the remaining guests could comment, or question him, he was following the General’s party out of the room. None of the five officers became aware of him accompanying them until they were in the office. Urrea went in first, without looking back. Alvarez and Seguin entered in the same fashion. Saucedo however, just before he passed through the door, glanced to his rear. When he realized what he had seen he spun round in anger.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded, ‘Get back to the dining room!’
‘I’ve as much right as you—!’ Badillo answered, so surprised by the vehemence of his rival that he took a rapid pace backwards and sent his right hand across to the hilt of his saber before realizing that the words had not been meant for him.
‘You said that I should stay with you, major,’ Ole Devil pointed out, ignoring Saucedo as Badillo also looked behind.
While the major had given the young Texian such an instruction on their way to the dining room, he had not intended it to apply under the present conditions. However, as Ole Devil had hoped, the fact that Saucedo clearly did not want him to attend was sufficient to make Badillo determined to take him in.
‘That’s what I said,’ the major confirmed, starting to walk forward. ‘Come on.’
For a moment, Ole Devil thought that the Colonel would repeat the refusal or even attempt to enforce it by physical means. Like the major, Saucedo had a hand on the hilt of his sword and there was an ugly expression on his face. However, hearing voices to his rear, he thought better of it. Letting out a snort of annoyance, he turned on his heel and stalked into the office. Tight lipped and with his whole bearing suggestive of a struggle to control his anger, Badillo followed the colonel. Bringing up the rear, Ole Devil closed the door behind him and stood by it. At first he expected some comment from either Urrea or Alvarez, but neither gave any sign of knowing that he was there. Clearly they were too engrossed in the newcomer to have noticed the young Texian.
‘General!’ Seguin was saying, as Ole Devil took up his position. ‘The Texians have beaten Santa Anna in a battle at the San Jacinto River!’
‘So I’ve already heard,’ Urrea grunted.
‘He and most of his generals were taken prisoner, along with the majority of their men,’ Seguin went on, clearly disappointed to discover that at least part of his news had been anticipated.
‘What happened to them?’ Urrea asked, slumping into his chair at the desk and waving for the new arrival to be seated at the other side.
Ole Devil for one was pleased with the General’s action. It ensured that Seguin was sitting with his back to the door and was therefore unable to see the young Texian.
‘Nothing,’ the captain admitted. ‘Many were killed in the fighting, but those who surrendered haven’t been harmed in any way.’
‘Not even the senior officers who led the attack on the Alamo, or Santa Anna himself?’ Urrea growled, hoping that the information given by “Smithers’’ might have been incorrect.
‘Nobody,’ Seguin confirmed. ‘That was why I escaped and have ridden relay all the way here. According to a speech made by Santa Anna, he’s negotiated with Houston for their return. The way he told it, they’ll not only be allowed to leave Texas but are to be given sufficient weapons to ensure their protection.’
Watching from his place by the door, Ole Devil could tell that Alvarez was attaching greater significance to the news than Urrea was. Having assumed his usual position at the General’s side, the Paymaster threw a glance pregnant with meaning at him. It was not returned. Clearly Urrea had failed to appreciate the possible implications behind the last piece of information.
‘How did the prisoners receive the news?’ Alvarez asked.
‘They were delighted,’ Seguin answered. ‘I don’t think el Presidente has been so popular since the start of the campaign. All the men were expecting to be shot and now they’re grateful to him for having saved their lives.’
‘Did he say why Houston was being so lenient?’ the Paymaster inquired.
‘Yes,’ Seguin confirmed, looking uneasy. To avoid meeting Urrea’s eyes, he turned his gaze in Alvarez’s direction and went on, ‘It was because he’d convinced him that the General had carried out the massacre at Goliad without his authority, then fled to escape the consequences.’
‘He did what?’ Urrea bellowed, hurling back his chair and leaping to his feet.
‘Th—That’s what he said—!’ Seguin insisted, rising in alarm. He had not expected his tidings to be greeted with enthusiasm, but the response was still disconcerting. ‘There had already been much ill feeling about the withdrawal of the Tamaulipa Brigade and—and—’
‘Go on, captain,’ Alvarez requested gently, setting Urrea’s chair on its legs and moving it so that it was pressed against his knees. ‘The General is grateful to you for the trouble you have taken and knows you’re only repeating what you’ve heard.’
Combined with the pressure of the chair, the Paymaster’s quietly spoken words had the effect of calming Urrea to the point where he was willing to sit down, and let the report continue. Sucking in his breath as he too resumed his vacated seat, Seguin explained how there had been an ever-growing bitterness against the General and his men for what Santa Anna’s troops regarded as their desertion. In fact, it had become accepted that the sole reason for the defeat with such heavy losses had been the absence of the Tamaulipa Brigade.
‘Are you saying those sons of whores blame us for getting beaten?’ Saucedo roared.
‘Yes,’ Seguin agreed, looking around and, as he was about to continue with his explanation, he noticed Ole Devil for the first time. ‘I’m sure that Santa Anna was behind the—Who’s that?’
‘I thought, being on Santa Anna’s staff, you’d know him,’ Saucedo growled with a suggestion of triumph in his voice as he followed the direction of the captain’s gaze. ‘It’s pretty strange that you don’t.’
Chapter Fourteen – Kill The Gringo!
Accompanied by Tommy Okasi, Mannen Blaze entered the cantina which had been established in a large adobe building within the grounds of General José Urrea’s hacienda. There were a few vaqueros and peons present, but the majority of the customers were enlisted men serving in the Tamaulipa Lancers or the ‘Landero’ Line Infantry Battalion. Like their officers, the cavalrymen and the foot soldiers did not mingle. Instead, whether standing at the bar or seated around the tables, they kept to their own kind and paid no attention to each other.
There were a few reasonably pretty Indian and half-breed girls serving or otherwise entertaining the customers. Behind the counter, assisted by two younger men whose facial resemblances suggested that they might be his sons, a burly Mexican was dispensing drinks.
The cantina had been set up at Major Francisco Alvarez’s instigation. Being the only source of entertainment in the area, it not only provided the soldiers with somewhere to spend their leisure hours, but also extracted the majority of their wages. As the money went to the Paymaster and was then paid back on payday, it gave the enlisted men the illusion of receiving wages and kept them reasonably contented without drawing too heavily on Urrea’s financial reserves.
Glancing around, Mannen failed to locate Sergeant Moreno or any other member of the escort for Beatriz Alvarez’s coach. So he and Tommy made their way towards the space at the counter which separated the Lancers from the infantrymen. All the tables were in use, although there were unoccupied chairs at some of them. However, the Texian considered that it would be advisable to wait until he and Tommy had somebody to vouch for them before coming into close contact even with the Lancers.
Although a number of pairs of eyes were turned towards Mannen and Tommy as they crossed the room, nobody seemed to be showing any special interest in th
em. Yet, despite the way in which he was dressed, the Texian knew that the soldiers were not mistaking him for a vaquero. Unlike Ole Devil Hardin, who had left his hat and pistol in their quarters when he had gone to dinner with the officers, Mannen and Tommy had on their headdress and, apart from the Browning rifle and bow and arrows, were fully armed.
On reaching the bar, Mannen ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses. He had come to the cantina on what amounted to a scouting mission. From what he could see, there was little love lost between the horse- and foot-soldiers. The latent hostility was, he concluded, something that Ole Devil might be able to turn to advantage.
Even as the thought came, Mannen was conscious of being watched. Turning to lean with his back to the counter, he swung a sleepy-seeming gaze around the room. None of the crowd appeared to be paying more than casual attention to him. Nor, with the burly bartender standing so close and possibly able to understand English, could he discuss the matter with Tommy. A glance at the little Oriental showed that he too had been studying their surroundings. As their eyes met, Tommy gave a quick shake of his head that suggested he had found nothing to alarm him.
For all that, danger was threatening the Texian and his companion.
Seated at a table with several members of his Company, a heavily built and hard-faced infantry sergeant was giving instructions to his men. Word had been passed down to the Battalions non-coms that their commanding officer had no liking for the gringos and Indian who had arrived that afternoon. In fact, providing that it could be made to appear that they were at fault, Colonel Sebastian Saucedo would not be averse to them being killed or seriously injured. With the proviso in mind, the sergeant was hatching a plot. About five minutes later, he saw his opportunity to put it into operation.
An Indian girl carrying a loaded tray was approaching the sergeant’s table. Waiting until she was close enough, he rose. Bumping into her, he contrived to knock the tray so that the drinks were spilled over his uniform.