"Well, amigo, perhaps another venture sometime...," I said.
Soto padded my sleeve. "Perhaps you and I could do some business together."
I could barely suppress a grin.
"The men who are my partners in this venture are, shall we say, more solvent than I. Last year I purchased a large hacienda in the Taxco area. Ay, amigo, it has drained me of dinero."
"What do you propose, Don Miguel?"
Those expressive hands of his spread again. "That we be partners, private partners. I sell you a piece of my share of the venture."
"Tell me more about this venture I would become involved in."
"My good friend, I have barely met you, but I love you like a brother. You will be informed fully as to all details of the enterprise. However, I must move cautiously; I have only known you for a couple of days."
"But, Don Miguel, as you say, we are brothers."
"Eh, but Abel also had a brother. We shall sup and drink together a few times and get to be fine friends. Doña Maria Luisa, my wife, wishes you to honor our table tomorrow night. Someone you know will be there."
No surprise was a pleasant prospect, even if the mystery guest was Eléna, but I could not avoid the invitation. Soto would not cut me in until he knew me better.
"I would be honored. But please, tell me which friend of mine will be there. Not my father-in-law, the swine farmer?"
He laughed. "If he shows up in New Spain, we will sew him up in one of his own pig bladders and ship him home. No, it's your father's old friend, Don Silvestre Hurtado."
I felt a grave opening at my feet. My face signaled my dismay.
Soto slapped me on the back. "You forgot that Don Silvestre lived here, eh? Of course, you were just a boy when he left Spain. Were you seventeen or eighteen?"
"Sí, about that."
"Do not fret, amigo. I have spoken to the don and those matters your father wrote him about are our secret. It was very clever of you to account for your money as the dowry from a swine maid." He made a gesture of sewing his lips shut. "My lips are sealed, amigo. The matters are most serious, but enough about money..." He shrugged. "After we do business, you will be able to avoid arrest by repaying the money. You can restore the girl's stolen honor, or at least permit her and the child to live in greater comfort."
I left Soto's after promising to present myself at his house on Saturday. Today was Thursday, so I still had one day in which to live before an angry mob tore me to pieces for being a fraud. I had no idea what Soto was talking about. Secrets? Dowry? A girl's stolen honor? ¡Ay de mí!
Jaime the lépero was crouched nearby as I came onto the street, and I gestured him to me.
"I will be needing your help later. Come to the inn when it is dark."
"Sí, señor. Now I will need an extra payment, my mother is very sick."
"You have no mother. You were spawned by el diablo." I tossed the little liar a reale. "Direct me to an indio sorcerer who sells potions."
He grinned up at me. "Do you need a love potion?"
I groaned. "I need something to calm stormy waters."
¡Ay de mí! An old family friend, eh. Soto told me the old man lived with his daughter. He was half blind and used a single ground glass, a monocle, to assist his vision. My first instinct was to hire thugs to smash his eyepiece, but even half blind he would know me for a fraud. I even thought of having the old man killed or at least beaten unconscious. Unfortunately, I had neither the time nor the stomach for it. The old man was just the beginning of my troubles. What evils had my namesake Don Carlos perpetrated? Avoid arrest? Repay the money and restore the girl's honor? Comfort for her and the child?
I had already discovered in my two conversations with Miguel de Soto that secrets pour from his mouth like water over a dam. By now the whole city would know that my swine maiden tale was a cover for dastardly deeds.
Por Dios! Why had I not kept the identity I had originally planned? I had assumed the skin of a scoundrel. Apparently a thief and spoiler of women. I had worked hard all of my life to shed my thief's persona and become a gentleman. I had now come full circle. I was a gentleman and a thief!
Ay, what had Fray Antonio said about those strange people who live in the land of elephants and tigers, the Hindu? That bad acts in a past life determine present fortune—or misery? That our many lives formed a circle and that bad acts would eventually return us to the same point—or one worse.
I made my way back to the inn to rest before my meeting with the viceroy. Eléna would be back in town by now. Had she already heard the swine maiden's tale? I had already told her of my concern for my "wife and child." Now she would know that, not only had I lied to her about my background, but was a rogue who treated women heartlessly.
I wanted to avoid being a hero, to enter the city quietly. Now I would be the talk of the city, as the dons and doñas argued over whether I should be praised or hanged. Something also told me that the miseries that were being heaped upon me were not over.
When I arrived back at the inn, the innkeeper gave me more startling news.
"Your brother has arrived. He is waiting in your room."
I graciously thanked him. As I walked toward the stairway, my feet moved in a straight line, but my mind screamed for me to run. First, an old friend of the family. Now, Don Carlos's brother. Had his whole family, his whole province, moved to New Spain?
In the hallway above, I drew my sword. I did not want to spill strange blood, but there was no longer any alternative. If I did not kill the brother, the alarm would sound and I would not make it past the causeways before the viceroy's soldados threw me in irons.
I steadied my nerves and drew a deep breath. Then I burst through the door of my room, my blade at the ready.
A one-eyed man looked up at me from the bed where he was enjoying a sack of wine and the mulatta I had refused.
"Eh, Bastardo, put down that sword. Did I not always tell you that as a bladesman, you were a dead man?"
ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN
Mateo sent the puta out, and I sat in a chair with my feet on the end of the bed as he relaxed back against the pillows. His left eye was covered by a black patch.
I shook my head at the sight of the patch. "And what is the name of that wound, compadre? Margarita? Juanita? Sofia?"
"This one is the duchess."
"Ah, so the duke came back from the wars and caught you in bed with his wife. A cousin to the queen, no less."
"A cousin to the devil, for sure. She sent the duke an 'anonymous' message soon after I began bedding her, thinking, no doubt, that jealousy would win him back."
"How bad is the eye?"
"Bad? There is nothing wrong with it." He lifted the patch to expose a blood red, empty socket. I winced.
"The eye is fine. I just don't have it anymore."
"A sword fight?"
"Nothing so honorable. The duke's men held me while he gouged it. He was about to do the other eye when I broke lose."
"Did you cut his throat or gouge his eyes out?"
"Neither. His throat is fine and so are both his eyes. However, he now pees through a straw."
"Well done. And how did you manage to maim a duke and live?"
He grinned. "By moving very quickly. The last ship of the treasure fleet had sailed from Seville when I reached the docks. I hired a fast coastal runner to chase it down. I caught up to a boat that was having difficulty with its rigging. It had a destination of Hispaniola, not Veracruz. From there a boat put me into Veracruz. When I heard about a clean-shaven man with a scar on his cheek who had saved a lady from pirates, eh, who could it be but my old compadre? Who else would be so foolish as to fight pirates rather than join them?"
"Mateo, I'm in trouble."
"So I have heard, Don Carlos. Even the puta mulatta knows you stole your wife-to-be's dowry from her father's house and fled, leaving her pregnant."
"I did that? What a thief!"
"Worse than a thief. It was cowardly and not hon
orable. Had you killed the father in a duel, men would hide you from the king's agents in their homes. But to steal a dowry from the father? And severely wound him by hitting him over the head with a candlestick? A candlestick! How can he hold his head-up to his friends after he had been felled by a candlestick? It was a silver candlestick and you stole that, too. Oh, Don Carlos, you are a bad one. You would be in chains right now if Eléna's uncle had not become viceroy."
I advised Mateo of my activities since I left Seville, right up to Soto's dinner invitation. "Those chains and noose you mentioned are still waiting for me. I am going to dinner Saturday at the house of Miguel de Soto's. Another guest will be an old friend of my family."
"Which family?"
"The one in Spain."
"Someone knows Don Carlos here in Mexico City?"
"One person for certain. An old man who knows all of my sins. I'm told he's half blind, but he could tell I'm a fake in the dark. The way Fortune is laughing at me, there may be another intimate or victim of Don Carlos on every street corner, waiting to expose me."
"Ah, Bastardo, this is what comes of thinking for yourself. Had you told me you were returning to reap revenge, I would not have let you come alone. I would still have my eye, and you would not be in this mess. What is your plan? To murder the old man? Gouge his eyes out before dinner?"
"I considered both. But I have neither the heart nor the nerve for either."
"Silencing the old man before he can tell the world of your sins would throw suspicion on you."
"I've thought of that, too. I'm also considering using yoyotli dust. If I can find it." I reminded him how we used the dream dust to disorient Isabella's maid.
"It's risky. And it fails to do one thing: validate you as Don Carlos."
"You think this old man will do that? He has not seen Don Carlos for seven or eight years, but I have seen Carlos, and I look nothing like him. His skin, hair, and eyes are all lighter than mine. This old man could smell me and know I'm not the son of his old friend."
"Soto is trying to find a way to justify dealing with you, even if it's behind the back of his compadres. So far he has heard stories about you that intrigue him. You are a thief and a scoundrel. That fits in nicely with his own plans. But he needs to know more about you. If he doesn't get enough information from the old man, he may keep inquiring. You could do worse than an old man who depends upon a monocle to see."
"A single eyeglass will let him see enough of me to know I'm a fraud."
"Perhaps. But what if it were broken? Ground eyeglasses are rare and expensive. No one here in New Spain can make such a thing. It would take at least a year to replace if something happened to his only glass."
"I don't know. Perhaps the best course for me is to forget Luis and Alva. I could kidnap Eléna and take her to some deserted paradise."
"And as which scoundrel would you present yourself to her? The mestizo bandit who terrorized the roads of New Spain? Or the worthless son of a hidalgo who beat an old man with a candlestick to steal his daughter's dowry?"
Mateo stayed at the inn when I left for the viceroy's palace. He told me to have the innkeeper send the puta back up. Lust helped him think, he said.
A soldado at the main gate escorted me into the reception area of the palace, turning me over to the viceroy's aide. The viceroy's household, both premises and staff, had a regal presence. Rugs and tapestries were lavish, artistically embroidered, gold thread predominating. A fieldstone fireplace had a massive maw from which hung a variety of fire tools. Great silver candlesticks on the fireplace mantel in the reception room were almost as tall as me. Against a wall stood stiff, straightback chairs of mahogany and darkly polished leather.
Most people would be impressed with how many pesos such luxury was worth. I wondered how many lives such affluence cost.
It was only to be expected that the viceroy lived like a king. In truth, he was one. He ruled with near-absolute power a land five times the size of Spain. While the high court called the Audiencia and the archbishop both had a say, the viceroy could overrule either. Complaints about his conduct had to be presented to the king in Madrid through the Council of the Indies. The process could take a year for matters of some urgency and forever for lesser matters.
I waited nervously for the summons to appear before him. Would Eléna be there? Would her eyes be full of contempt? Probably no more than I already felt myself. My entire life was now one huge house of lies, each stacked atop another. Not even I knew the truth.
I felt eyes on me and turned around to find Eléna had entered the room. She paused just inside the door and had stopped to look at me with concern. With a smile, she came to me, her hand held out in greeting. I kissed it.
"Doña Eléna, we meet again."
"Don Carlos, I am happy to see you are well. You gave us a fright when you left the hacienda. At first we thought you had taken a wrong turn and became lost."
"My apologies, my lady, I was sneaking away to stop being a trouble for so many people."
"You caused no fuss, only concern for a man who had risked his life for me. I realize that you wish to maintain your privacy. However, my uncle learned that you were to be the guest of Don Miguel de Soto. He has asked Don Miguel to invite you another time so you may attend a reception here at the palace."
I murmured my assent, maintaining my smile, while I cringed at the prospect of being displayed before all the notables in the city.
As we looked into each other's eyes, my heart melted. She started to say something and looked away as she hesitated. A cross hung from a silver chain around her neck. I was jolted when I saw it; it was my mother's cross, the one the Inquisition lawyer had taken from me. Seeing the cross shook me, and I had difficulty keeping my composure.
Her eyes were moist when they met mine again. A blush had pinked her cheeks. She spoke in a low, confidential tone. "That problem you left in Spain. I've spoken to my uncle; he will help."
"Eléna," I took her hand, my heart was tearing at what she must think of me, "I'm so sorry."
"Eléna!"
We both snapped to attention.
Luis had entered the reception area.
For a moment I was flustered. I instinctively reached for my sword and cleared the scabbard by several inches before I caught myself.
Luis's lips formed a smile, but his eyes were as I remembered. Hard. Snake eyes staring up from a luckless throw of the dice.
"I didn't mean to startle you. The viceroy is waiting."
"Don Carlos, may I present my fiancé, Don Luis de la Cerda."
I exchanged bows with him, barely able to keep my face neutral. The word "fiancé" had caught me off guard.
"You have the appreciation of all New Spain for your efforts on behalf of Doña Eléna. And you especially have the thanks of her future husband."
He bowed again. The words were spoken with sincerity. But each one grated on me and set my teeth on edge. I did not doubt that he was attracted to Eléna, but I knew the man was incapable of truly loving a woman. I remembered his comments from so long ago when I was hidden under the seat of a carriage.
"We had better join the viceroy," Eléna said.
Eléna led the way, with Luis behind me. The hair on the back of my neck bristled. I had seen something in Luis's eyes when he spoke his thanks to me—jealousy. When Eléna and I had looked into each other's eyes, Luis had spotted something beyond my saving her life.
Unlike myself, Luis's appearance had not changed. His beard covered many of the pox scars, but his eyes betrayed the harshness of his dark soul.
I was consumed by anger at the tragic murders of the people I loved. But even at that I felt no animosity for the world at large. What twists of fate, what disappointments had caused this scion of wealth and power to stain his birthright with common thievery. I knew the stories of his need to involve himself in business. True, his father had squandered the family fortune. If Luis had not accumulated one of his own, he would have traded his title for a ri
ch man's daughter and dowry rather than marrying into the viceroy's family.
What had caused Eléna to change her mind about entering a convent? My suspicion was that the change in plans had to do with Eléna's pleas to her uncle on my behalf. In a convent she would be safe from the monster, and I could dream of stealing her away. Ay, my new disguise as a gentleman of Spain had driven her farther from me and into the arms of a villain.
Don Diego Veles de Maldonato was short, no taller than Eléna, but he made up for his diminutive stature with aristocratic arrogance and a steely gaze of cold command. He wore his mustache and beard short, his hair as close cropped as a monk's. He ruled as a king a wild land as large as half a dozen European countries combined. Although he was known to have mistresses, the viceroy was a widower without children. He had raised Eléna as his own daughter.
After proper introductions had been made, the viceroy came around from his gilt desk to personally inquire as to the status of my wound.
"Don Carlos, your boldness and courage were most noble. Had there been a dozen more like you in Veracruz, the entire pirate army would have been summarily routed."
"I am sure there were greater acts of bravery that morning, Your Excellency. In fact, if your niece had not stabbed the man who was about to chop off my head, I would be buried in Veracruz rather than standing before you today."
"In truth, naked greed not lost courage stripped our soldados of their weapons. And as for my niece, I have lectured her many times about carrying daggers and other unladylike conduct. Fortunately for you both, my niece ignores my advice."
"Uncle, that is not true. I listen to all your commands."
"But obeying them is something else."
Eléna murmured her dissent... quietly.
"But as we know, this time her disobedience proved expedient. In any event custody of her iron will soon fall to another's hand; I am certain Don Luis will invite you to the place of honor at his wedding table."
Luis bowed. "We would be most honored if Don Carlos graced our banquet table."
"I live for the day," I said evenly.