"Yes, they are!"
"Then tell my wife where I've gone and that you'll be outside the door." He ran down the stairs, followed closely by Sergei, and Cesar turned toward the bedroom door.
"Come in," Leonor called when she heard the hesitant tap.
Cesar stood in the doorway, carefully avoiding the sight of Senorita Leonor as she sat up in the bed, the sheet around her, her dusky curls tumbled on her shoulders. He dutifully relayed the information and promised to be outside the door. Then he closed the door and Leonor sank back against the pillows. She shivered in the chill air and reached for the crumpled nightshirt tossed on the foot of the bed and then changed her mind. She would feel better prepared to cope with an emergency if she were properly dressed!
Andres hugged his light jacket tightly around him as he led the patrol along the fence on the front of the property line. He had kept half his men on the patrol all night, constantly checking to be sure no one tried to penetrate the estate. Nothing had happened, thanks be to God, he thought as he eased his horse around a dense clump of low bushes.
At the main gate, the six men left on guard huddled around the small fire they had built. A rumbling sound caught their attention and they stood, turning to stare down the dark road. Presently a farm wagon came into view, the two horses straining to pull it up the gentle slope in front of the gate. Four of the guards sat back down by the fire and the other two, with rifles in their hands, moved to the gate. A single guard rode beside the wagon and he signalled the driver to stop. The wagon lumbered to a halt in front of the gate and the rider, his rifle resting easily across his lap, moved forward to speak to the two guards.
"Good evening."
"Chilly," the first guard said as he eyed the wagon curiously. "Taking goods to the Mission?"
"Those are my orders. Everything quiet tonight?"
"Seems so."
"Good. I want no excitement on the trip tonight," the rider said, his voice clearly relieved.
He nodded to them and half turned his horse and one guard shook his head and turned away from the gate to return to the fire. Without warning, the rider spun back around, bringing up a pistol, and shot the remaining guard before he could make any move to raise his own weapon. The second guard, several yards away by that time, stopped abruptly and twisted around. Then the rifle cracked and he, too, slumped to the ground.
The four men around the fire, shocked and stunned by the suddenness of the attack, scrambled to their feet and groped for their weapons. The cover was thrust back on the wagon and armed men piled out. Within minutes, all six of Andres' guards were sprawled on the frosty ground and men were swinging wide the gate. They rushed toward the field where the guards' horses were hobbled, casting hunted glances over their shoulders. Twelve men had been on guard here at the gate. Where were the other six?
A slight breeze carried the sounds of rifle fire to Andres. After a startled moment, he kicked his horse forward and shouted, "Come on!" He raced down the fence, dodging bushes and holes in the uneven ground, his jaw set grimly. They pulled up, too late, at the gate and he surveyed the lifeless bodies of his men. Andres' glance flicked to the abandoned wagon on the road and he swore. Then a horrible thought clutched at him and he signalled the men. "To the house quickly!"
Leonor sat on the bed, dressed and waiting for she knew not what. A soft tap on the door made her jump with nervousness. "Come in."
"Leonor."
"Come in, Father Bartolomé."
The priest slowly entered the room and, at her gesture, seated himself beside her on the bed. "Cesar related to me what has happened. How are you?"
"I'm fine. Has he had any news?"
"None yet."
"I can't keep from worrying, padré."
"Your husband can take care of himself, you know."
It jolted her to hear Dimitri being referred to as her husband and she half smiled. "I just wish we knew what was happening."
"He'll send word when he can."
"I'm sure—" She broke off, hearing a new sound. That was a shot! She sprang to her feet and rushed to the front window. More shots rang out and she heard men running and shouting. She thrust aside the heavy red velvet draperies and peered out the window. In the gloom she could barely see men moving on the lawn and she turned in terror to look at Father Bartolomé.
The old priest hurried to the door. Cesar turned when the door behind him opened and cast a swift, worried glance at the old man.
"Lock the door," Cesar ordered, "and stay in there with her. I don't know what those shots were," he muttered, before Father Bartolomé could ask. "Lock the door," he repeated.
His rifle was ready in his hands and he heard the priest shut and lock the door. The shouting and firing was inside the house now! A startled guard stationed at the top of the servant's staircase at the far end off the hall moved down the hall toward him and Cesar motioned him back. "Guard the stairs," he called.
Suddenly men stormed the stairs and Cesar dropped to one knee, steadying his rifle. He fired at the first man who rounded the corner into the hallway and the man lurched and fell. A second one appeared and a third. Dimly Cesar heard the guard at the far end of the corridor fire and then sounds of a scuffle and then another shot. Cesar dropped the rifle. There was no time to reload it. He pulled the pair of pistols from his belt and fired one, grazing the first man who dived low across the hallway. Then he raised the second pistol. At that moment he was staggered by something that hit him in the chest and threw him back against the door. A hot pain spread through his chest. The pistol fell from his hand as he sprawled on the floor in front of the door.
Leonor and Father Bartolomé exchanged glances as they waited in the bedroom. They could hear the fighting in the hall and both jumped as something thudded hard against the door. Leonor, biting her lip to keep it from trembling, looked frantically around the room for a weapon. The grilles barred the windows so there was no escape there. And there was not a pistol or knife in sight in the room. She moved nearer the priest as someone outside violently shook the door handle. Then something heavy hit the door and it shuddered. Again and again something battered at the door, rending the wood and finally splintering the lock. The door crashed open and two armed men rushed in.
Father Bartolomé abruptly pushed Leonor behind him and faced the two men. ''What do you want?"
"Step aside, padre," the burly stranger said, motioning with his rifle. "We want the girl."
"You must not do this," the priest began. One of the two men advanced on him and ordered him aside. Again the priest refused, shaking his silver head sadly. The other man had come up and stood beside the first. Without warning he turned his rifle and drove the butt of it toward the priest's refused, Leonor screamed and Father Bartolomé made a feeble and vain effort to sidestep the blow. He was struck on the temple and he crumpled soundlessly to the floor. Leonor stared at him with horrified eyes. A small trickle of blood coursed down his temple, staining his white hair. With a gasp of pure rage, she wheeled on her attackers. One reached for her and as he did so, she ducked easily, doubled up and darted between them and fled through the door. She nearly fell over Cesar, but managed to step over him and caught only a glimpse of the spreading stain on his chest. Then she ran down the hallway, her back tight as she expected to hear the crack of a rifle. It did not come. She jerked open the door to the servants' stairs with trembling hands and fell into the arms of a man who was on the other side. He grunted at the impact and then held her tightly.
The two men strolled down the hall, grinning at the sight of her struggling against the man who held her. "We'll relieve you of that luscious burden, Pepé. Round up the men and follow us," one said, seizing her in a painful grasp. The second man took her other arm and they marched her down the stairs, stepping over the bodies of the two men Dimitri had set on guard there.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Leonor cried as they forced her out the front door to the waiting horses.
"You'll find out," one mut
tered harshly. "Tie her hands and let's get her on that horse. They wait for us."
Leonor looked at the grim faces of her captors and swallowed painfully. She had little doubt now who it was that awaited her, like a hungry spider waiting patiently in his web for the victim to arrive.
Dimitri could see the flames lighting up the sky long before they reached the barns. Plumes of smoke, spewing sparks, provided a dramatic backdrop to the blazing buildings. As he approached, his pistol loosened in his belt and ready to his hand, Dimitri could see scurrying dark figures running back and forth between the two barns. He reined in and dismounted, throwing his reins to Sergei. Catching one man by the arm, he dragged him to a halt.
"Who is in charge here?"
"II don't know, senor. No one, I guess."
"Where are the men who attacked?"
The man shrugged. "I arrived just minutes ago, Don Dimitri. Let me see," he said hastily, thinking hard. "Luiz was here when I got here and he started organizing a bucket brigade. He would know, I expect."
Dimitri released the man and looked around for Luiz. The men he had brought stowed their rifles in their saddle holsters and joined the growing line of men forming the bucket brigade that stretched in rows from the shallow creek to the barns. Luiz, when found, wiped the soot from his face with a blackened hand.
"I was on patrol duty near here when I saw the flames," Luiz explained. "I rushed my patrol over and I think we drove off the attackers." He frowned. "It was strange, Don Dimitri. There must have been two dozen men here. I saw six or so setting the fire and the others were riding around and around the barns, firing their rifles. I heard that first, then saw the flames," he corrected himself. "I don't know what they were doing! They weren't shooting at anyone because no one was on guard here. We rode up, fired at them and—" He paused, shaking his head. "They then rode off! They didn't fight or shoot back or anything! We tried to save the barns so we didn't go after them. We'll save one of the barns, I think, but the other is out of control."
Dimitri listened to this strange account in ominous silence. He nodded when Luiz suggested that he should return to directing the bucket brigade. But Dimitri continued to stand there, oblivious of the heat from the flames or the shower of sparks that occasionally blew toward him on the breeze. Why would men attacking the barns deliberately draw attention to themselves, which they had certainly done by riding around the barns and firing their rifles! As the reason occurred to him, his face paled and he spun about and ran for Adan.
Sergei, seeing that hard, shuttered face, swallowed. "Sir!"
"We're fools!" Dimitri said bitterly, grasping the reins. "It was a diversion. Come on!"
Sergei's face mirrored the horror that swam in Dimitri's eyes as he followed his master in a headlong gallop across the rough fields.
Please, God, prayed Dimitri as he thundered over the hills, let me be in time!
The house lay silent and waiting as Dimitri reined in Adan at the gate. He leapt from the horse, letting the reins fall to the ground, and raced up the path to the front door. Sergei followed, moving almost as fast as Dimitri, in spite of his bulk. They stepped over the bodies sprawled in the foyer and up the stairs and Dimitri skidded to a stop at the bedroom door. He knelt by Cesar and eased the bloody figure over. Eyelids fluttered weakly and Cesar opened his eyes. He recognized Dimitri and struggled to speak.
"W-we failed, senor. They t-took her."
"Easy, Cesar. Sergei," he snapped. "Get some bandages and stop this bleeding."
Dimly, below, Dimitri could hear muted voices and the sounds of men entering the house. He pulled the pistol from his belt and waited. Six of the men who had guarded the front gate came up the stairs, stopping to gaze in horror at the man sprawled at Dimitri's feet.
"Where's Andres?" Dimitri demanded, recognizing them.
"He sent us here, senor. We were attacked at the front gate."
"I know that," Dimitri told them shortly. He had already come to that conclusion. They had come through the gate somehow and overpowered the guards at the house. "Where is Andres?" he repeated.
"He brought us back here. We were on patrol with him when it happened. By the time we got back to the gate the guards were dead. Andres led us here and told us to come in and do what we could. We could see the dead guards out front," the man added nervously, "so we knew—"
"Where did Andres go?"
The man shrugged helplessly. "I'm not sure. He told us to wait and he examined the men out front. One was alive and Andres talked to him for a short time but the man died. We couldn't hear what was said. He told us to find you and we started toward the western fields. We were halfway there when we saw you. We followed you back. Don Dimitri," he asked, looking from Cesar to his master's grim face. "Did they—"
"I don't know. Do what you can for Cesar. He's alive. Chest wound." Dimitri threw open the ruined bedroom door. He had braced himself, telling himself that she might be lying there . . . He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as he realized she was gone. He hurried across the room to kneel by Father Bartolomé. The priest stirred and gazed up, his eyes clouded.
"Padre, where is she?"
A thin, trembling hand moved unsteadily up the bleeding temple and the priest blinked at him. "Men took her," he whispered. "I couldn't stop them."
Dimitri rose. "I will get help for you," he said.
The thin hand stretched out and the priest looked at him. "No," he whispered. "There's no time." Father Bartolomé caught Dimitri's hand feebly. "Find her," he gasped. "Quickly."
Those few words seemed to drain the strength from the old man and he closed his eyes. Dimitri knelt and felt his throat but there was no life there. His eyes dimming suddenly, he stood up. There was nothing to be done for the good old man. He was in God's hands now. But there might still be time for Leonor, if he hurried, if Dimitri stepped back and two of the silent men lifted the priest onto the bed. "Rouse the servants and see that Cesar gets medical treatment. Send someone to the Mission to give them the news about the padre. Then examine the guards in the house and outside and make sure some are not wounded instead of dead."
Looking up at his daunting face, the men nodded, not daring to say anything. Dimitri walked slowly down the stairs, Sergei a silent shadow at his back. It was all very well to tell the dying padre he would find Leonor. But where did he start? His entire reliance now had to be on Andres and whatever he had found out from the man still alive when Andres arrived. Torn with heart-stopping terror and angry frustration, Dimitri set about organizing a new guard for the house and stirring the frightened servants to care for the wounded and the dead. As he strode through the shambles of his home, fear gnawed at him, a fear that grew with each minute that passed.
Andres ordered his six men to find the master and then turned his horse away from the house. He hoped fervently that the dying man had been correct when he told him that the men who had taken Senorita Leonor had gone east on the old path. Andres knew that path well. It ran straight east from the edge of the trees behind the original barn on the estate, through a thinly wooded forest and then out onto the grassy hills. Men on patrol still used the old trail instead of the road when returning from the far eastern corner of the estate because it cut off several miles of riding. That traffic had kept the path from becoming hopelessly overgrown.
As Andres turned his horse onto the path, he wondered where the men could be heading. If one went east through the trees and onto the rolling hills, one eventually arrived at the rugged slice of canyons that stopped the spreading, undulating plain. He frowned. One could hide an entire army in those rough canyons, he thought.
He tried to think it through and keep a wary eye on the path. They would have to be taking Leonor to the men who ordered her capture and that could only be two men: Don Gilberto and Don Carlos. He could not imagine either of them camping in the cold, windy canyons waiting for the girl to be delivered. So where would they go? Mentally Andres went over every bit of ground around those canyons, seeing th
em clearly in his mind's eye. And then a half forgotten image sharpened.
He recalled the small, tucked-away ranchera that an old stubborn pensioner of Don Gregory's clung to. Don Gregory had finally pensioned the old man off, Andres remembered. And he had given that man a small plot of land just on the eastern border of the estate. It lay hard against the canyons, he recalled, and was nicely hidden in the last big stand of forest. It must be the place! That was the only shelter within miles and miles. If the men had taken her somewhere on Don Gilberto's land, they would have gone south, not east. They could have taken the road, having dealt with the guards at the gate, and taken shelter on his land within an hour. So if they went east, it was for a reason.
His horse splashed through a shallow stream that crossed the path and Andres pulled up and dismounted. He stooped over the far edge and smiled to himself. Hoof prints, many hoof prints, mired the damp ground. At least a dozen or more horses had been through the area within the hour. He bounded back on his horse and rode on, stopping to study the ground whenever he hit a damp patch that would carry marks of passage. Leaving the trees behind, he followed the trail over the rolling hills but found little trace of hoof prints on the sun packed ground and rough grass. But he followed his instincts and went on.
Surrender by Moonlight Page 27