Surrender by Moonlight

Home > Other > Surrender by Moonlight > Page 10
Surrender by Moonlight Page 10

by Foxx, Rosalind


  "What everyone knows, I suppose. The Czar is supporting the Spanish move to obtain aid from Europe to reclaim her rebelling colonies. The British and the Americans vehemently oppose it. Spain's loss, they feel, is her own fault. The countries in Europe are sick of war and don't want another one, taken on to help Spain recover her colonies. Why the Czar is supporting Spain in this I don't know. I suspect he's doing it to annoy the British, who have had far too much to say about who gets what chunk of Europe at the Vienna Peace Congress."

  The captain chuckled. "I agree. He knows the Congress will never agree to Spain's demands because there are others who oppose it besides Britain and America. But publicly, he supports Spain. However, our canny Czar never puts his eggs in just one basket. He has been aiding Mexico in her rebellion, but secretly. Spain, of course, doesn't know about that. Whichever side wins there, he's in with them. I was sent there, after dropping you off, to deliver supplies and money to them to continue their revolution. It was sent by the Czar.''

  "And now he wants to know what is happening here? Why?"

  "I can only guess at that," the captain admitted. "I have no reliable information since I didn't know he was going to ask this of you until you told me. But I'd say he wants to know if California will go with Mexico or stay loyal to Spain."

  "What use would that information be to him?" Dimitri wondered out loud, trying to piece the puzzle together.

  "It is difficult to know, at any time, what the Czar has in mind, my lord. I certainly am not able to guess. He may want to gauge Mexico's strength. Will it be supplemented by California's or no? But it is interesting that he wants such a report from you."

  Interesting and disturbing, Dimitri thought, pushing the empty plate aside. He was here to reclaim his heritage, not spy for the Czar! If only he knew why the Czar wanted the information! "Captain, I will do my best to gather the information he wants but it will take time. You don't know a country's strengths and character until you've studied it a while. I've only just recently begun hearing about the stirring of the peasants here. Oh, yes, it's begun but no one knows how widespread it is or how well organized. I will tell you this: I will not deliver any report to you for him until you can find out, or give me a better guess, on why he wants it."

  The captain looked uncomfortable. "I don't have any information."

  "I suggest you attempt to get some. In your position, you hear all the rumors, don't tell me you don't. What are the rumors?"

  The captain rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "It is the merest rumor, you understand—"

  "I understand. Tell me what you've heard."

  "Not anything directly, but I did hear, down in Mexico City, that the Mexicans, having accepted so much covert Russian aid, are now worried that the Czar means to move against California."

  A chill went down Dimitri's spine. "In what way?"

  "Well, my lord, hear me out. You recall that about a year or so ago, the Czar issued a proclamation saying that Russia considered the Pacific coast, north of San Francisco, closed to all but Russian ships? He said publicly that he was giving Spain the assistance there she needed and had asked for. That stretch of coast was being plagued by American, British and even some rebel privateers. He had also the Russian settlement at Fort Ross to protect. The Mexicans, however, are beginning to suspect that the Czar is eyeing California with an aim to annex it himself. As far as I can see, they have no evidence to support such a claim, even though one official there told me they had information from an American ship captain that the Czar has three armed and ready warships waiting at Sitka. I can't deny or confirm that since I haven't been at Sitka for months but that's the rumor."

  "Annex California!" Dimitri exclaimed and then continued in a softer tone. "My God, man, think what a stir that would make in Europe! The British and the Americans, not to mention the Spanish, would never stand for that! And it would jeopardize much of what the Czar is working for at the Congress! He's annexing so much land there that already the Europeans are uneasy! If he moved against California!"

  "I don't know that he intends to, do I?" the captain interrupted. "I said it was only rumor. The Mexicans are easily alarmed and the fact that the information came from an American ship captain. . . . Well, judge for yourself. The Americans have been worried about that Russian settlement at Fort Ross for some time. They are not at all in favor of having Russia own any land on this continent. They are quite openly assisting the Mexicans in their revolution and would not take kindly to any European power claiming land here. It's probably all a molehill that some frightened Mexican official made into a mountain. I would not worry about the possibility, if I were you."

  Dimitri didn't agree with that but let it go. It added to his unease over his new orders from the Czar and just might answer the question of why the Czar wanted the report. Hiding his dismay, he thanked the captain for bringing the message and the news.

  "I'll call back in a few months," promised the captain. "I don't know where I'll be sent next but I feel sure I'll be ordered back here to get your report. I'll make sure he knows you got the message and will begin to assess the situation. He won't be surprised that you need time to do it. I trust things have gone well with you in California?"

  Dimitri smiled briefly. "Very satisfactorily, after a slight problem. The governor was not anxious to offend the cousin of the Czar and immediately processed my claim. Now there is a difficulty at the estate due, no doubt, to all of the unrest. But Sergei and I are learning about estate management and we feel that we will soon have our problems under control."

  Dimitri rose and held out his hand. The captain solemnly shook it and looked at Sergei. "Take care of your master, Sergei. The Czar would be very angry at you if you let him come to harm."

  "I try," Sergei admitted, "but he is not an easy man to protect. He seems to attract trouble!"

  The captain clapped Sergei on the back. "Yes, I suppose he does. Men of action, ones who get out and do instead of sit around and talk, usually attract it. Do your best."

  Sergei, feeling his responsibilities, tried valiantly to persuade his master to beg a bed in the village but Dimitri was adamant. Once clear of the village, he chose a small grove of trees on a gently sloping hillside and dismounted.

  "We'll spend the night here."

  Sergei looked around and scowled. "My lord, this is not wise. If we are not to stay in the village, we would be safer if we returned home tonight."

  "Sergei, it won't hurt you to sleep on the ground again. It's a dry, clear night, warm and perfectly comfortable here. Untie your bedroll and settle in. I'll start gathering some wood for a fire. You might bestir yourself to find that food, too. I'm hungry again."

  "How you can want to eat after consuming that plate of . . . of stuff, I don't know," Sergei grumbled, but he dismounted and hobbled his horse and pulled his bedroll from behind the saddle. "Is this," he asked himself, as his master vanished in the dark, shadowy woods, "the way he takes care of himself? Any number of bandidos could be hiding in those woods! He takes neither sword nor pistol with him, either. Madness!"

  He continued his running commentary on the lack of wisdom of this entire enterprise as he situated the bedrolls and unpacked the bundle of food. He ignored his master's comings and going as Dimitri dumped dry brush and branches into a pile in the center of the clearing. Dimitri listened to enough of the speech to catch its drift and, grinning to himself, vanished into the woods for more dry branches.

  They curled up in their bedrolls, the only sounds breaking the silence were the crackling of the fire and the sloughing of the wind through the trees around them. Dimitri looked across the fire at Sergei. "Now, this isn't so bad, is it? You're getting soft, Sergei. We've slept in much worse places. I remember many nights we went to bed without a blanket, without food or a fire and were cold and wet and entirely miserable. You didn't complain then as much as you're doing now!"

  "That was war, my lord, and the sacrifices of comfort were necessary. This," he said sternly, "is not
. We could have persuaded the tavern keeper to find us two beds for the night."

  "So we could. I think I prefer this to straw pallets, infested with lice and fleas, crowded into a tiny, airless room filled with sleeping, snoring people. If you, however, would rather have that, I can still arrange it for you."

  That silenced Sergei, as he knew it would. Soon, as Dimitri lay on his back gazing through the overhanging trees at the small patches of sky, he heard Sergei begin to snore. He tried to think about his orders from the Czar and evaluate them and their implications but he was too tired to concentrate. It had been a long day, with a hard, fast ride, and he was far too comfortable to stay awake any longer.

  Chapter Seven

  Hours later, the moon slid behind a heavy overhang of trees, and the fire was burning low into smouldering coals. Something stirred in the dark trees, moving forward toward the small clearing, creeping quietly, stealthily. The dry brush underfoot rustled slightly and the dark shadow froze briefly before continuing. But it had been enough. Dimitri, not moving or opening his eyes, came fully awake, his senses alert. His hand slid silently toward his pistol, tucked neatly against his side. He felt the smooth inlaid pearl handle slip into his hand. Scarcely breathing, he waited. The rustle came again, off to his left, closer. Then someone reached his side and, for a long moment, stood motionless beside his bedroll, gazing down at him. A hand lifted, the faint firelight glowing on the barrel of the pistol and, in that instant, Dimitri rolled to his right.

  The explosion of sound echoed through the clearing. Sergei came awake with a convulsive jerk, freeing his hand of the clinging blanket, trying to raise his pistol. But Dimitri, having rolled over, his back dangerously near the fire, took aim and fired. The second deafening report shattered the quiet and the man, a surprised look on his unshaven face, sank slowly to his knees and toppled over.

  Another shadow moved in the darkness, retreating, and Sergei saw it. "My lord!" he shouted warningly as he took aim at the darker shadow merging into the trees. His shot hit the second man in the chest, cleaving through the man's heart, and he was dead before he fell.

  Dimitri scrambled to his feet and turned his attacker over. He intently studied the face, shaking his head in frustration, then began turning out the man's pockets. Sergei had risen and joined him.

  "My lord, I told you it was dangerous here! Bandidos range these hills—"

  "These men were not bandidos, Sergei. Paid assassins, I think. Look." He held out his hand and several pesos gleamed softly in the firelight. "I think if we check the pockets of the other man, we'll find the same amount."

  Shaken, Sergei turned without a word and went to the fallen man in the fringe of trees and searched him. He returned, silver glinting on his palm. "The same amount, my lord."

  Dimitri sat back on his heels. "Now I wonder . . . Why would someone pay these two men to follow us here and try to kill us? They must have followed us from home, Sergei. There were no men like this in the village and no reason for anyone there to pay this much silver to have me killed."

  "Don Gilberto?"

  "Or Don Carlos?" Dimitri asked. "We can only guess. Dead men can't answer questions. I wish I could have kept one alive and questioned him."

  Sergei surveyed the two bodies doubtfully. "What do we do with them? Bury them here?"

  "Indeed not! I have a much better plan. Help me dump this one in the trees with the other for the rest of the night. We'll deal with them tomorrow."

  "How do we know there aren't others out there?"

  "We don't but it's not likely. There were only these two and they botched it."

  Sergei helped drag the man into the trees and returned to his bedroll, wondering what crazy scheme his master had in mind but knowing it would be useless to ask. My lord would tell him when he wished to and not before.

  Late the next afternoon a strange procession rode into the pueblo of Los Angeles and stopped before the office of the commandant. A sleepy lieutenant came out, looked at the burden the horses carried and, wide awake, vanished inside. In moments a captain came out, hastily buttoning his tunic.

  ''My lord?" he asked, eyeing the two horses.

  "Ah, Captain Esfera, I bring you some bodies, as you see."

  The captain gulped and looked from Dimitri to the two bodies tied to the horses. "I . . . see, my lord. May I ask, ah, where you got them?"

  Dimitri bit back a smile. "You may indeed. My servant, Sergei, and I were attacked last night by these two bandidos. We managed to kill them before they killed us and I knew you would want them. I hear Don Carlos is concerned about the bandidos in the hills. You will please see that he is given these two with my compliments. It should gladden his heart to know that there are now two less bandidos to plague and terrorize honest people."

  "I—yes, I'll do that. Thank you, my lord."

  Still keeping his face solemn, Dimitri turned and rode towards home, leaving the captain holding the reins of the two horses with their grisly burden.

  <><><><><><><><><><><><>

  The next day Dona Juana and Leonor, accompanied by a groom and the coachman, drove sedately into Los Angeles. The dusty village simmered in the afternoon heat as the two ladies shopped for dress lengths and Leonor ordered two pair of dainty, pointed-toed shoes from the cobbler. She waited impatiently while her mother debated between lengths of fabric and different styles of shoes, admitting to herself that, unlike her mother, she did not enjoy shopping. It was with relief that she found herself back out in the brilliant sunshine of the plaza. Someone called her name and she turned to see Dona Margarita de Cerveras stepping down from her carriage. "How delightful to see you, Juana, and you, Leonor," the tall, thin senora cried. "What brings you to the pueblo?"

  "Shopping, Margarita," Dona Juana said. "We need new gowns." She sighed gently. ''There was not a great deal of choice but—"

  "I'm sure you chose well, Juana, you always do. Leonor, how splendid you look! Is that a new gown?"

  Leonor admitted that it was. "And you, Dona Margarita, how have you and Don Raphael been?"

  Since Margarita was the picture of health from her glowing complexion to her sleek, dark hair, the reassuring answer was hardly necessary.

  Margarita was admiring Leonor's own good looks. "What a pity my boys are all so much older than you, Leonor, and are married," she confided. "I would love to have such a beauty in the family!"

  "Gracias," Leonor murmured politely, while she silently thanked the Virgin that all the de Cerveras men were married. They were nice enough, she supposed, but were tall, silent and seemed so serious all of the time. Leonor did not like any of them well enough to consider marriage but a refusal would have caused a rift between the families.

  "You must come out and visit, Juana. Right now the house is in an uproar, because of the meeting Raphael has arranged for the day after tomorrow.'

  "Meeting?" Juana asked, her brow wrinkling in puzzlement.

  "Of the local dons."

  "Is there some trouble?" Leonor put in quietly before her mother could dismiss the subject.

  "He did not confide in me but there undoubtedly have been problems, Leonor. All this unrest," she said vaguely. "However, it is nothing for us to be concerned about."

  While the two ladies discussed the poor shopping conditions in the pueblo, Leonor was intent on discovering what this meeting could be about. If all of the local dons were attending, it must be something of importance. It would be useless to ask Don Gilberto. He would tell her not to worry her pretty little head about it and she disliked asking him favors for anything. How could she manage to attend that meeting? That would be the only way she would learn anything. Then she was struck with an idea.

  As soon as the two ladies ran out of conversation, Leonor turned brightly to Margarita. "We have been so quiet lately, Dona Margarita. We have missed seeing you and Don Raphael. Why, madre," she added, turning to her mother, "do you realize that it has been months since we had a good visit with Dona Margarita! I wonder—" she paused
delicately.

  "What, my dear?" Margarita prompted indulgently.

  "Whether . . . no, it's too presumptuous of me."

  "Indeed not," Dona Margarita said quickly, nearly bursting with curiosity by this time. "We are friends, my child. Tell me."

  Leonor glanced at her mother. "Would it be possible for the ladies to gather somewhere while the dons have their meeting? We could visit and talk and I vow I have been longing to see everyone in the district. What do you think, Dona Margarita? Do you not like the idea of a visit with your friends?"

  "Well—" began Dona Juana helplessly.

  "It is a splendid idea, Leonor," Dona Margarita exclaimed. "Why did I not think of it myself? Juana, surely you could come with Gilberto! And I could ask the other ladies to come with their husbands and we could have a wonderful visit!" She beamed at the two ladies and Leonor smiled.

  "A party! Oh, it is so long since we had a party, madre! And if Dona Margarita is so kind as to invite us, surely Don Gilberto would let us accompany him?"

 

‹ Prev