At dawn, they rode on, moving closer to the coast road and, at mid-morning, Felipe led them down a slope. El Camino Real lay below. The rocky jut of headland lay beyond it, framing the sea.
"They joined the main road here, senor."
"Monterey," Andres muttered.
Dimitri nodded. "They have to be heading for Monterey or, past that, to San Francisco."
"I would guess Monterey, senor," Andres said quietly. "it is the capital, the nearest port, the most logical place to take her."
Dimitri agreed and pressed his troop harder. As the sun moved overhead, bathing the road in searing light, they pounded down the road, leaving huge clouds of dust behind them.
Leonor drooped with fatigue and could scarcely stay in the saddle. For a second night in a row, she had been tied to a tree when the men camped for the night. In such a position, she had been unable to sleep and had only dozed fitfully. At dawn she had staggered on numbed legs to the waiting horse and had concentrated on staying in the saddle. Now it was noon and they were leading her horse into a town. Leonor stirred stiffly and blinked the dust from her eyes. Monterey! Her astounded gaze swept over her surroundings as she recognized the capital city. If only she knew what awaited her here! She shivered in apprehension as Juan swung the horses off the main street onto a narrow back alley. By the time they had twisted and turned through the city, Leonor had lost all track of where she was but now, as they paused in an alley behind a row of houses, she could smell the sea. They must be near the docks!
They had stopped directly behind a tall house on the corner. A window was thrown open in the house and Leonor could hear the sound of drunken laughter and tinny music. She swallowed painfully, her throat tight and dry with dust, thirst and fear.
"Get down, girl!" Juan ordered. When she didn't move, he reached up and pulled her off the horse. She was so stiff and numb she would have fallen if he had not held tightly to her bound wrists. "We got you here safe!" he added, casting a glance at the back of the house.
"Where are we?" She looked beseechingly at him. "What is that house?"
"Madam Lita's. In here." He opened the back door and pulled her in.
After the bright noon sunlight, the hall they stood in seemed dim and cool. A giant of a man stepped into the hall, eyed them sternly for a moment and then approached.
"What do you want?"
"We have the girl. Go and tell Madam Lita."
"Bring her in. Sit there, girl," the big man said, pointing to a bare bench along the wall. "I'll tell madam you are here," he said to Juan.
Leonor sank down on the hard wooden bench and looked around. At the end of the hall was a foyer, with a staircase going up along the wall opposite to where she sat.
The bare floor was covered with brightly colored rugs, predominantly in shades of red and purple. A dirty crystal chandelier fought valiantly to dispel the gloom in the foyer and hall. The front windows were tightly draped in red velvet draperies. Leonor could hear the tinny music, accompanied by laughter, coming from a room off of the foyer. Juan stood by the bench, watching her carefully, while Vicente guarded the back door.
She turned her head as footsteps sounded in the hall. Behind the huge man came a woman. She was very tall, and her more than ample curves strained at the seams of the red velvet dress she wore. The low cut bodice of the gown barely covered her generous breasts. Her hair was a deep blue-black and cascaded down her back in tumbled curls. But her face told Leonor that this woman was not as young as she first appeared. Lines had formed on her brow and around her eyes, only partly concealed by the paint she wore. She could be anywhere from thirty-five to fifty, Leonor decided.
The woman stopped and looked Leonor over from head to heels. Something in that gaze made Leonor straighten her back and stick out her chin and a ripple of amusement went over the woman's face as she saw it.
"Stand up, girl."
Leonor didn't move.
"Juan?"
Juan reached down and yanked Leonor to her feet. That careful gaze took in every detail of Leonor's dusty person, from her hair, caked with the reddish brown dust, to her defiant eyes, down to her riding boots. After a moment, Madam Lita nodded. "You have done well, Juan." She turned to the giant of a man standing silently by her. "Alfredo, take her upstairs."
"I'm not going anywhere with him," Leonor said challengingly. "You have no right—"
Madam Lita frowned and then her face cleared. "It will do you little good to speak of rights here, girl. You will go upstairs with Alfredo or he will carry you. It makes no difference to him. And you will learn that I do not brook disobedience from my girls. You will learn that as the others have. I will even give you one piece of advice. Don't resist. It is much less painful that way."
The suspicion in Leonor's mind had grown to certainly but she swallowed with difficulty and asked, "What is this place?"
Vicente gave a jeering laugh. "A house of joy, girl! Did you think it was a hotel?"
Shock washed over Leonor in a terrifying wave.
"Alfredo, take her upstairs."
"Si, madam. Where do I put her?"
"In the little room, halfway down the hall, the one with only the small window. We don't want this treasure to escape, do we? See that she had food and water. She can't be happy in all that dust and I do strive to keep my girls happy."
Leonor stood mute, defiance showing in every line of her body.
"What is your name, girl?" Madam Lita demanded.
Leonor didn't answer. She met and held the madam's gaze.
A firm, pale hand shot out and gripped her painfully by the hair. "Your name?"
"Leonor," she gasped, tears in her eyes from the pain shooting through her scalp.
"You do not look stupid," the madam said, releasing her. "Surely you understand what I just explained to you?"
Leonor nodded. "I understood."
"But don't agree, eh? Well, you'll learn, Leonor. You'll make much money for me. You have a look of innocence that many men will pay well for and I detect fire under that icy exterior. Alfredo, take her upstairs."
The man's hand closed over her arm and he tugged. Leonor staggered and nearly fell and, without saying a word, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. She craned her neck as he sedately mounted the steps. Madam Lita was handing two leather pouches of money to Juan and Vicente.
Leonor bit her lip to repress the sobs bubbling up in her throat. She would not cry in front of this brute!
He pushed open a door and set her down, his large hands fumbling with her bonds. Her wrists were numb and her arms felt weighted down as she tried to rub some feeling into them. Alfredo flicked a glance around the room and then closed and locked the door. With a moan, Leonor sank down on the narrow iron cot that stood along the inner wall.
Her prison was bare of the gaudy furnishings that she had seen downstairs. The room was small, with a tiny window on the outside wall. Against one inside wall was the narrow cot and a wash stand and wooden chair stood against the other wall. She rose and took the chair to the high window and climbed up on it. She pushed aside thin curtains and peered out. The speckled glass was smeared with salt and dirt and she could see very little. After a brief struggle, she got the window open and a brisk, salt-laden breeze swept in, stirring the stale air and dust in the room. Her surmise had been right. They were near the docks. The house sat on a corner of a road that ended at the sea. Her window overlooked a straggly side yard, which swept down to a rocky edge. From this height, she could see the massive promontory of twisted rock that sheltered the beach and the little harbor. Only fishing vessels were tied up at the docks far to her right. To her left the small beach curved, ending in folded hills as the rock jutted out into the shimmering sea.
The silence was broken only by the harsh squawk of gulls and an occasional bark of a sea lion. Spreading along the promontory were clumps of twisted cypress, standing like grotesque sentinels by the sea.
The opening of the door jarred her from he
r wistful reverie. Alfredo stood there, watching her. She met his gaze and refused to look away. With a shrug, he stood aside and motioned the two girls into the room. They cast mute glances of sympathy at Leonor as they dragged a hip bath into the room and put down cans of hot water. A third girl appeared and placed a folded pile of clothing on the cot. No one spoke until the girls had left, then Alfredo eyed her sharply. ''There is no escape that way, girl. Madam says for you to bathe and change."
He waited but Leonor didn't climb down from the chair or give any indication that she had heard him.
"I'll be back in an hour. If you've not bathed and changed," he said harshly, "I will strip and wash you myself."
He shut the door and Leonor leaned limply against the window. She cast one last glance at the window and then climbed stiffly down. There was, as he had said, no escape that way. The window was too small for her to climb through and it was a steep drop to the ground below, which sloped away from the house. She hesitated to obey any order given here but the thought of Alfredo stripping and bathing her drove her to pull off her torn and dusty habit and approach the waiting tub.
Once bathed, she hastened to put on the clothing he had left. The dress was too large and, to her eyes, indecently cut. It showed a great deal more of her bosom than she liked but at least it was clean. It was of a thin cotton, in a pale yellow shade, and was much cooler than her heavy habit. Even with the window open, the heat in the little room was oppressive. Tired to the point of collapse, Leonor ate the food brought to her and then curled up on the hard cot. The walls were thin and as the afternoon faded into dusk, she could hear laughter and talking occasionally from the rooms on either side. There were thumping noises and the creak of rusted bedsprings and she determinedly closed her ears. The shock had worn off but the horror lingered. There had to be a way to escape from this place. Escape before When Alfredo brought her dinner tray, she was again standing by the window, watching the shadows of the twisted cypress trees lengthen across the rocky promontory.
He locked the door and went slowly back down the stairs to where Madam Lita waited in the foyer.
"Well?" she demanded.
He shook his head. "That one will be difficult. She's well-bred and stubborn. She will not accept this life easily."
Madam shrugged, her white shoulders gleaming under the candlelight. "She'll learn. A few days locked in her room, thinking about her choices, will change her mind. I'll send Rosie in tomorrow to talk to her. Rosie will tell her what will happen to her if she doesn't quickly decide to cooperate!"
He grunted. "Rosie should know. She was one just like that girl!"
"Once," Madam Lita agreed.
It was dusk when Dimitri and his men reached Monterey. They were all tired, the horses were nearly blown and his strained face had kept them all silent and willing to push on for the last four hours. He glanced at Andres, who rode on one side of him, and asked, "Is there just the one livery stable here?"
"Si, senor, just the one."
"We will begin there."
Sergei nodded. "They would have to leave their horses somewhere, m'lord, and they probably stabled them at the livery stable."
Dimitri looked at Sergei and smiled faintly. He had expected complaints on the long ride but those were the first words Sergei had said all day. He had kept the men moving, seen to the horses, made sure everyone was fed, but he had not voiced a complaint during the entire long ride. Gratitude washed over Dimitri as he stiffly dismounted in front of the livery stable. Sergei was one in a thousand and Andres had also proved himself loyal, quick-thinking and invaluable. Dimitri began to feel better about their chances of finding Leonor and rescuing her.
He strode into the stable and was met by the groom on duty.
"Si, senor? You wish to stable your horses here?"
"I do and I also wish information." A coin slid into the groom's hand. "Two men and a girl arrived earlier. Noon or shortly after. You have seen them?"
The groom scratched his head, holding the coin tightly in his free hand. "I was not on duty, senor, at noon but several horses have been left here since last night."
"Felipe, look at them," Dimitri snapped.
The puzzled groom led Felipe to a stall and the tracker lifted both rear hooves, studying the shoes. "No, senor, this is not one of them. His shoes are new. None of those horses had new shoes and one had a curious worn place on his right shoe."
"Show him the others."
While the groom showed Felipe the others, Dimitri waited impatiently. Weariness battered at him but he could not pause to rest now. His legs were stiff from the long ride and his back ached but he turned quickly when Felipe called.
"This one, senor. This is one of the horses. The others are also here."
A grim smile curved Dimitri's lips. This guess, at least, had been right! If only he could continue to guess right! "Andres, have the men leave their horses here for now." He glanced from Sergei to Andres. "If you had delivered the girl to wherever she was expected and paid for your efforts, where would you go?"
"To rest," Sergei said. "They, too, had a long ride today. They would rest first—"
"Then to a tavern," Andres continued.
"That's what I thought. We will find them. You," he said sharply to the gaping groom. "Where is the fellow who was on duty at noon?"
"At his home, senor."
"Go and fetch him."
"But, senor—"
Dimitri tossed several coins in the air and caught them. "Now."
"The stable—" the groom muttered, eyeing the coins.
"We will watch the stable while you are gone and deal with any customers. Hasten, now, and you'll be back before anyone knows you've left."
The groom nodded and pulled off his leather apron, handing it to Andres. "Si, I will hurry."
When he returned with the other groom, Dimitri explained that they were trying to find the two men who had come with the girl. He pointed out the horses and the groom nodded vigorously.
"There was no girl, senor, but two men did bring those three horses here. Si, about noon."
"Describe them to me."
The groom did so and added, seeing the glint of silver in Dimitri's palm, "They asked me to direct them to a tavern that had rooms to rent, senor. They looked tired and were very dusty. I sent them to the Infanta."
Dimitri ignored Sergei's grunt of satisfaction and got directions to the tavern. Then he turned to Andres. "You and Sergei will come with me. The men will wait here. When I learn where she is being held, you can fetch the men to me."
The tavern was an old, ramshackle building, not far from the harbor. Salt had scrubbed away any paint it had once had and the sign swung creakily in the brisk wind from the sea. Dimitri walked around the building, noticing the dark yard behind and the back door before leading Sergei and Andres into the lighted tap room. Their quarry was not hard to locate. Several fishermen lounged against the bar, and at a table in the far corner two men sat drinking and dicing. They matched the description of the men the groom had given him and Dimitri's face hardened as he walked straight to their table.
Absorbed in their dice game, Vicente and Juan did not notice the men approach. The first they knew of their presence was when the chilly steel of a pistol barrel rested against Vicente's neck. He froze and dropped the dice on the table. Juan half rose but Sergei was there, his own pistol cocked and ready, held steadily in a tanned hand.
"We wish a word with you gentlemen in the back yard. Get up and walk through to the back door. One wrong move and I will kill you."
"Senor—" stammered Vicente, "there must be some mistake—"
Surrender by Moonlight Page 14