"Everyone in this region is acquainted with him, sir, and few make that acquaintance willingly! Si, I know the man and what he is. I would say that he and Don Gilberto are much alike, both in their greed and in their methods!"
Dimitri explained the details of the plot, as far as he and Cesar had unraveled it, and concluded by asking, "So our question now is what their next move will be. They no longer have a chance to depreciate the estate's value and persuade the governor to sell them the land at a pittance. The governor," Dimitri added dryly, "is far too eager not to anger or inconvenience a relative of the Czar to assist them any further. So, if that plan is foiled, what do you think they will do?"
Andres leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If that plan will no longer work, I would say that they would begin looking about for another one. It is not in either of their natures to give up easily something they want."
"And the attacks on the estate could continue?"
Cesar, who had listened to this exchange in silence, now asked doubtfully, "If the plan is indeed foiled, senor, what other plan could they have? I know I suggested they might try to stop you from reaching the governor and filing your claim but you did reach him and did gain legal rights to the land. So how could they now acquire the land?"
"The land," Dimitri said slowly, "was left to me in my mother's will. She gave no provision, beyond to my unnamed heirs, of which I have none, in the event of my death. So, since I don't have any sons or daughters to inherit this estate, it would revert back to the Crown."
There was a moment of silence while they all assimilated this. "Then," Andres said, "if they could kill you, the governor would once again control this land?"
"Something like that. I'm not sure that they know the provisions of my mother's will or whether I do indeed have heirs or not, but they could have made it their business to find out. The will is filed in Monterey, which is how they learned I was the heir to begin with. Once they determine that I am unwed and have no legal heirs—"
"I think," Cesar said with a rueful smile, "I would make haste to find myself a wife, if I were you!"
Dimitri laughed. "I trust it will not require such drastic action to prevent their little plot, Cesar, but I will keep it in mind. I feel that we can't assume that the danger to the estate is over, do you?" They both shook their heads vigorously. "Then let us decide how best to protect the cargos and the estates. Andres, I want you to establish a patrol around the estate. I know," he added quickly, "we can't patrol all of the land. It stretches too far to be able to do that! But move the more valuable horses and cattle in closer and group them as best you can and mount night patrols around them. We also want patrols covering the house and barns and the main cluster of workers' dwellings. Be open about those patrols. Have the men carry torches with them. If anyone is watching the estate, I want them to see those patrols so that they will know that we are doing something to protect ourselves. Adjust the timing of the patrols and their routes so that they never ride out in the same place at the same time. Once an enemy learns a patrols routine, he can more easily circumvent it. As for the cargos, load them up and send them to the Mission. But," he said smiling, "there will be more in those wagons than any supposed 'bandidos' expected!" He turned to Cesar. "How many wagon loads do we have to go?"
"Eight or ten, senor."
"Send half of them out at one time. Send two additional wagons with them, one in the front of the train and one at the rear. We will hide soldiers in those two wagons, gentlemen, not hides and if the bandidos attack, they will be greatly surprised!"
Cesar looked astounded but Andres smiled and eyed his new master with considerable respect.
"Will it do?" Dimitri asked him.
"It should do well! What about outside guards? Do we omit them?"
Dimitri thought about it and then shook his head. "No, that would alert them to a possible trap. But only send two or three outside guards along. Do not mention what we're going to do until the wagons are ready to roll, then assign armed men to those two wagons. If they do have spies inside this estate, we don't want them to get advance warning of our plans. How soon can you get the wagons ready to go?"
"We can load them tomorrow and have them ready to go by the day after."
"Good. Cesar, see that Andres has anything that he needs to set the patrols and prepare the wagons. And, gentlemen," Dimitri said, rising as he dismissed them, "if any information comes to your attention, bring it to mine. Keep your eyes and ears open, alert for anything that is out of the ordinary or unusual in any way. We don't have any clues yet to what they plan, if anything, so we need to be sharp and alert."
He watched Sergei show them out and when the servant returned to the study, Dimitri turned and smiled at him. "Well, Sergei? You sat in and listened and said not a word. What do you think?"
"I think, my lord, that I would watch that young man! He has some very interesting possibilities but he is like dry tinder, just waiting for the match."
"I agree entirely and I do wonder what caused his hatred of Don Gilberto. It runs deep and violent and tends to color his judgment. He had no ready reason why Don Gilberto would be involved, yet he unhesitatingly cast him in the role of villain! Why? And the bitterness was well marked. Still, at this time, he is just what we need. He's a fighter, a natural soldier, who will stand on the line until he has either won or is dead. Not a comfortable type to live with but necessary in war. And this, unless I miss my guess, is war!"
Chapter Four
Leonor surveyed the small cluster of fields from the top of the hill. The signs of the spring floods in this section of the estate were still quite evident. Below her, in the narrow valley, lay Tobias' fields. The piles of debris that had washed down the hills onto the fields had been cleared away and the fields had finally dried out enough to be replanted. From her vantage point, she could see men and women slowly moving down the rows, planting seeds that were their only hope now of a late summer harvest. As far as she could tell from this distance, the workers in the fields below consisted only of Tobias' family, his sons, their wives and older children. Why hadn't Jorge sent additional men to this section to aid in the planting? He knew well enough that the spring crops had been ruined by the flooding and that these farms would have to start over and plant new seeds as quickly as possible if they hoped to have any harvest this summer. In her progress through this section this morning, Leonor had not seen a single worker in the fields who did not belong to the family holding that farm. As she rode down the hill toward Tobias' house, she wondered about that. Surely it was poor management policies to refuse to help these people! If they did not reap a sufficient crop, they could not pay their taxes to Don Gilberto and the people suffered and the estate's profits suffered! This, without question, was one policy she would change once she had inherited and gained control of the estate!
She dismounted at the door of Tobias' small, adobe house. Ana, Tobias' wife came to the door and curtsied to her young mistress.
"Buenos días, Ana. How are you today?" Leonor asked, as she handed Ana a basket of food she had managed to take from the house without Don Gilberto's knowledge.
Ana took the basket with shy pleasure and relief. "Gracious senorita. I am well, thank you."
"And Tobias?"
The gray haired, stooped shouldered woman motioned toward a pallet near the cooking fire. "He is as you see," she said sadly. "He does not get his strength after—" She stumbled to a halt but Leonor knew what she was referring to.
She crossed the small room to speak to Tobias and was shocked at his appearance. He was pale and pitifully thin, looking as if the flesh had melted off his bones during the last weeks. His eyes brightened at the sight of her.
"Thank you, senorita, for what you tried to do for me," he whispered.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more," Leonor said. "I heard that you had a fever. Is that better now?"
The old man nodded but his wife explained. "After the beating, he lay like the dead
for a week. I was afraid he was going to die." Ana steadied her voice and crossed herself nervously. "His fever is gone, thanks be to the Virgin, but he does not regain his strength."
Tobias waved his hand and silenced his wife. "I am old and it takes the old a longer time to recover from any sickness. Soon I will be out in the fields—"
But Ana sadly shook her head at his optimism and Leonor had to agree that the old man would never work again. Rage washed over Leonor at the sight of this frail old man, who had done nothing to deserve this barbaric treatment. He had worked on the estate, managing this farm, since Leonor was a baby and was this his reward for a lifetime of service to the de Reyes?
''How is the new planting going, Tobias?" She knew that even if he was not able to participate in the planting, he was still head of the family.
"Slowly, mistress. Benito, my eldest son, is seeing to it but he has not enough hands to help him. Still, we will manage."
"I'll see if some men can't be spared to come and help, Tobias."
He shook his head. "Don Gilberto said he would not send any men to help. We have already asked. I would not want to make trouble for you, senorita, by having you ask him."
"Don't worry about me, Tobias! I am not afraid to ask Don Gilberto! This is my land and I have a right to question what he does with it."
Tobias studied her lovely militant face for a long moment and then reached out a thin, shaky hand to lightly pat hers. "Senorita, soon it will be yours but until it is, I would go carefully with Don Gilberto. He is a hard man and one that it not safe to cross. We all look forward to the day that the estate will be yours but until then, it would not be wise to anger Don Gilberto."
Before Leonor could reassure him, Ana darted back into the house, her eyes frightened. "Mistress Leonor, two men approach the house! It is Jorge and another man. Don Gilberto will not like it when he learns you were here."
Leonor rose slowly and shook out the skirt of her riding habit. She took Ana's trembling hands firmly in hers and made the frightened woman meet her gaze. "Don Gilberto has no say in where I go on my own land. He has no right to object to my visiting your house. You stay here with Tobias and I will go out and see what Jorge wants."
"No, senorita!" Tobias protested. "He has come for the tax money and we cannot pay it. Ana will show you the door in the back and he need never know you were here. Do not become embroiled in our troubles!"
Leonor shook her head gently. "Your troubles, Tobias, are my troubles. I will not sneak out the back door of this house, hiding from Jorge! Just stay inside and let me handle this."
She marched firmly to the door and walked out onto the packed dirt of the yard. Jorge and his companion brought their horses to a stop and there was silence while Jorge slowly dismounted.
"What do you here, mistress?" he asked heavily.
Leonor tilted her chin and retorted, "What business is that of yours, Jorge? A better question is what you are doing here!"
"I have business with Tobias."
"He is too ill to be disturbed so you will state your business to me."
Jorge met her determined gaze and shifted his ground. "If Tobias is too ill to see me, then I will see Benito."
"Benito is busy in the fields and is not here. What is your business with Tobias?"
He hesitated then said harshly, "He has not paid his taxes."
"And you know he can't pay them now! They are just putting the new seed in the ground!"
"Payment must be made or—" He trailed off, deciding that the less this young busybody knew of his intentions, the better.
"Or what? Tobias is too ill from your last beating to be disciplined. Did you come here to beat him again or, if not Tobias, Benito?"
He didn't answer but his glance went to the twelve foot bullwhip that was coiled on his saddle.
"I see that you did." Leonor tried to suppress the hot fury that rose in her. She would need all her wits about her to prevent Jorge from dragging Benito from the field and whipping him. "There will be no beatings today, Jorge. I warned you once before that you would do well to obey my orders."
"And I told you then, senorita, that I could not disobey Don Gilberto's orders. I have my duty to carry out."
"And what is that duty? To beat helpless peasants into submission? They can't pay you the tax money, Jorge, no matter how cruelly you beat them! And if you beat Benito and the other sons, who will plant the fields so they can reap enough of a crop to pay your taxes?"
He stood his ground stoically. "I have my orders."
Yes, thought Leonor. Just as it was last time. But there was one difference. The last time Jorge was surrounded by Don Gilberto's loyal followers. It was one against many. Today the odds were a little better. It was one against two, if one could count the sleepy man who still sat on his horse and seemed to take no notice of what was going on.
Furiously, Leonor advanced on Jorge, determined this time to prevent the whippings. Her move surprised the stocky, slow-witted man and he automatically backed up several paces, giving ground before her. Before he realized what she was about, she had reached his horse and, with a quick movement, took the whip from the saddle and backed toward the house, letting the whip uncoil as she moved. "You will whip no one today, Jorge! If you insist that a whipping take place, it will be you who feels the lash!"
For a long moment he gaped at her in astonishment; then an ugly scowl settled on his brow and he stepped forward, his face menacing. "Senorita—"
"That is quite far enough, Jorge. Unless you want to see what the lash feels like yourself, I would suggest you mount your horse and leave. As for the taxes," she added, grabbing the little purse that swung from her belt, "this should cover the amount owed." She took out several reales and, with a swift flick of her wrist, tossed the silver coins into the dust in front of him.
"Manuel!" called Jorge to his companion but Manuel, awakened enough to witness the scene and not caring to feel the lash, turned his horse and spurred the surprised animal down the path as fast as he could gallop. Jorge swore but stood his ground, his furious eyes meeting hers. She felt a ripple of fear go through her at his expression. For one awful moment, she wasn't sure if he was going to leap forward and attack her but she did not flinch. Scarcely aware that she was holding her breath, Leonor waited. The silence stretched out across the yard in a tense cloud, which was abruptly and unexpectedly shattered by a voice behind her.
"You have your tax money," Dimitri said crisply, moving up close enough to take the whip from her suddenly limp hand. "I would suggest that you collect it and leave. If, however, you are thinking of offering your mistress violence," he added softly, "I would think again. She appears to know how to use that whip but if she does not, I do."
Jorge looked from the tall, stony-faced man to the angry girl and then let his gaze rest on the whip which Dimitri now held and was uncoiling and flicking out, ready for use. That well-practiced ease of motion told Jorge that, whatever bluff the girl had been practicing, the man at least knew exactly what to do with the whip and, from the icy gaze resting on him, would do so. Moving slowly, Jorge scooped up the two coins and stepped cautiously toward his horse. He was alone now and vulnerable. When Dimitri merely waited and made no further move with the whip, Jorge hastily mounted, turned the horse, and started to ride away. Once out of range of the whip, he paused and looked back, his expression ugly.
"Don Gilberto will hear of this, senorita!"
"He may discuss it with me if he wishes," Dimitri said calmly.
Without another word, Jorge rode off and Dimitri turned and looked at the girl by his side. "You have made an enemy there, cousin. What would you have done if he had called your bluff?"
Leonor, her gaze still on the cloud of dust moving rapidly down the valley, didn't answer. She was feeling limp with relief and framing words to thank Dimitri for his intervention. His next remark drove all thoughts of gratitude from her head.
"It was certainly brave but remarkably foolish for you to confront
a thug like that."
"I had the situation under control," she said angrily, turning to look at him.
"Did you?" he asked, idly flicking the whip. "It didn't appear that way to me. He was just about to call your bluff and I felt as sure as he did that you didn't really know what to do with that whip! If," he added, with a mocking glint in his eye, "you're going to go around challenging a man like that, you had better be prepared to make good your threats. He would certainly have made his good!"
She tilted her chin at him defiantly. "I don't remember either asking for or needing your advice, Don Dimitri!"
"So you didn't! You seemed grateful for my intervention and well you might be. Do you know how to use that whip?"
She set her jaw stubbornly. "Not exactly, but—"
Surrender by Moonlight Page 6