Lesson 3: Family and friends are a man's true treasures

The months passed fast as Diego looked forward to each day's classes and conversations with his new friends and professors.

Three times a week he'd wake up at dawn for his fencing lessons and he was quite content with the speed at which he was progressing. Sir Kendall was less so, not because his student didn't do his best or because he was a slow learner since he truly wasn't. In fact, he was frustrated at seeing Diego's potential and knowing that, had he been at least half the swordsman his father had been at his age, a few months training with him would have turned the Californian into the best swordsman in Europe. As things stood, though, there was much for him to learn before he'd be able to reach such a level of swordsmanship. Consequently, he made sure to inform Don Alejandro, in the letter he sent him that winter, that he was more than disappointed with him for not having taught Diego anything about fencing, and the old caballero took his words to mean that his old friend was, just like him, disappointed with Diego's skills for swordsmanship.

During the afternoons, the tall caballero mostly spent his time in the library or reading in his room. On occasion, he'd also dedicate a few hours to replicating, together with Emmanuel and other colleagues of theirs, the experiments they were taught during the week, or come up with new ones. That particular enterprise ended, though, when the beautiful Afghan Hound the headmaster had acquired to guard the university's premises (but ended up being his pride and joy) - and which the students decided to experiment on – saw its beautiful golden hair changed to grey for almost a week.

While covering for his students, whom he asked to hold their tongues to avoid whatever punishment the dean would inflict on them, after that incident, their professor started locking the door to the laboratory to make sure they'd stop going there while unsupervised. Consequently, Diego asked for his grandfather's permission to install a small laboratory in one of the villa's unused storage rooms and the old man agreed, glad to make his grandson happy, even if he ended up regretting that decision soon enough.

The weekends, Diego spent at the De Lara's house, where the entire family awaited for him with open arms and always had something planned to entertain him while he was there. Truth be told, he easily adapted to being pampered by his family and the household servants, who took a liking to him at seeing how happy his presence made their old master, and how well the young don treated everyone.

ZZZ

"Dear Father," Don Alejandro read out loud his son's first letter to arrive from Spain, some eight months after his departure.

"Spain is as enchanting as you and Mother have always described it. I've only been here a few days and in all this time I had done little else but explore Cadiz. Never had I even imagined a port town, even a very old one, would be as filled with architectural jewels as the ones I've seen here." The letter went on describing several of the buildings Diego found most interesting, the way people dressed and interacted, but also the preoccupation everyone seemed to have for politics, and, especially, for the reforms introduced in France by Napoleon Bonaparte and his worrisome expansionism. The last pages of the letter included several drawings of the buildings, plazas, and the Port of Cadiz.

Felipe studied them as well as the ones Diego had sent with his letter, fascinated, for the entire month after the letter had arrived. By that time, eager to write him back himself, the boy had made unexpected progress in learning the alphabet and was already able to read, even if it took about an hour and quite some effort to finish a couple of pages. The old caballero, however, was more than proud of his pupil.

To be fair, Don Alejandro gave thanks every day for having Felipe around. The boy was a handful from certain perspectives, curious and intelligent, just like his son. Being deprived of both his hearing and his voice did not stop him from communicating, and, when someone did not understand him, he'd simply repeat the signs slower and as many times as needed for them to arrive to the proper understanding of what he was trying to convey. Despite the downsides, however, his company and the need to keep up with him helped the aging don overcome the hole he was feeling due to his son's absence.

ZZZ

During the Winter vacation, since the trip to Malaga to visit the aunt and uncle who had been his guardians for the last three years would have taken Emmanuel more time than he had at his disposal, with his grandfather's permission, Diego invited him to spend the holidays with his family, and the Count was more than happy to adopt him as his second grandson.

"Privileged!" Ignacio de Soto muttered disapprovingly at seeing Diego and Emmanuel arrive at the university in the Count's coach, the morning of the day when the classes restarted, in January of 1808. It had rained the previous day and he had had to walk for over fifteen minutes from the small apartment he was renting, so his boots were completely covered in mud, while the two younger men, having traveled by coach, were spotlessly clean. He envied them, having always dreamt of being rich, but he was determined it would one day be him to be envied by them, not even considering the fact that, while they did take their privileges for granted, neither one actually cared about opulence as their own values differed much from his own.

"Hola, Ignacio! Happy New Year!" Diego greeted him cheerfully as the coach stopped right next to his older colleague.

"Yes… Happy New Year, Diego! Emmanuel!" He politely replied and continued walking towards the building where his class was being held, the younger men walking with him. "Are you joining our class today, Dos Santos?" He then asked mockingly.

"Me? Architecture? Definitely not. Diego is the one with the artistic talent, not I." Emmanuel answered in jest, then parted with the two men as he saw some other classmates he wanted to talk to before heading for his class.

"So… Optimistic about the exams, are you, De la Vega?"

"Not precisely," Diego admitted. "I still have a lot to read and review before I'll be feeling even slightly optimistic about it."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll do just fine!" Ignacio faked encouraging him since, in truth, he hoped the tall caballero would fail. "Excuse me, but I'll go sit with my peers." He said at entering the aula as he headed towards a group of Seniors.

ZZZ

It was about a week before Diego's first exams when, as he and Emmanuel were working in the small laboratory on an experiment they hoped would grant them the maximum mark in their Chemistry class, two men knocked on the De Laras' door. The servants allowed them in and, moments later, the two students upstairs could hear the Count's voice at a much louder volume than it was normal for the old man.

Realizing something was clearly wrong, they exchanged a glance, then hurriedly descended the stairs, and, as they did, they started understanding puzzling bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Impossible… my house… no authority… king", were the first words they could adequately understand.

"It is, still, our duty to enforce the King's orders." They heard one of the two men they soon saw in the sala with the rest of Diego's family say.

"I already told you, the King couldn't possibly have given such an order. I am a nobleman! I have served the Crown faithfully for many years." The Count replied.

"It is not up to us, Señor. We have our orders. It is only out of courtesy and the respect I bear you that I've decided to give you a day before my men will do as ordered and take this house from you." The same man uttered. "Good evening, Your Excellency!"

As he said that, the man turned on his heel and left the house, the other man following him.

"What's going on?" Diego wondered as he saw his grandfather, red with anger, collapsed in an armchair.

"The King… After all my years of service, he appare… decided he has power to take my home and give it to… others and use it." The Count stated, not even realizing he was no longer in control of his speech, while taking a hand to one of his eyes to wipe it as if trying to get rid of something in it.

"I think your grandfather needs a doctor, Diego," Emmanuel stated at recognizing the first signs of a stroke, the same affliction which had claimed his father's life a few years earlier.

Glancing towards the old man once, his grandson hurried to the stables and mounted Fantasma. Some 15 minutes later, as the other people in the house were fussing over the old nobleman, he returned with the family's doctor.

After about an hour of treatments, the physician exited the old man's room.

"His condition is stable. It might have been his heart, but I can't be certain for now. If his symptoms disappear within 24 hours, he will be fine. Whatever the case, he must be spared strong emotions and any unpleasantness." The man told the worried family, as Juan Carlos' wife, Carolina, was the first to enter her father-in-law's room to check on the man whom she had long since started seeing as her own parent.

"What are we to do now?" Álvaro asked his younger brother while Diego was paying the doctor and arranging for him to ride home in the Count's carriage.

"I don't know… Perhaps we could petition the King? We might at least convince him to grant us a delay in leaving, considering Father's condition." Juan Carlos answered.

"I am afraid I didn't catch much of what happened before Grandfather fell ill. Can you tell me what all this is about?" Diego wondered when he rejoined them and Emmanuel in the sala.

"That Captain, Jiménez, came to inform us that the King has ordered this house confiscated, together with the one in Alcala. We still have the house in Toledo, which had belonged to our uncle… Mother's brother. We are still to finalize the proper formalities to accept that inheritance though. But, at least, we have somewhere to go." Juan Carlos stated.

"Go? Brother, this is an injustice! We have always been good and loyal subjects. We did nothing to cause the King to think otherwise. And you heard what the doctor said. We might lose Father should we even attempt to move him from this house. I, for one, am not willing to risk it." Álvaro stated, enraged.

"Indeed," Diego uttered, looking worriedly towards Emmanuel. "But what can we do?" He wondered.

As the hour was already late, the only thing they could do during the night was to keep vigil on the old nobleman and think through their options. Secretly, Juan Carlos and his brother also instructed the servants to start packing the essentials, wanting to be prepared should they truly need to move out in the morning. In the end, only Emmanuel was able to sleep that night as everybody else was worried about the count and their family's home.

At dawn, Álvaro and Juan Carlos put on their best suits and headed towards the Royal Palace, in order to attempt getting an audience with the King. Diego spent an hour packing his own things, as well as several portraits and paintings done by his mother, which he had every intention of keeping, while his aunt tried to force her father-in-law to have some breakfast.

The old man, stubborn as he was, eventually decided to get out of the bed, get dressed and join the younger people for breakfast in the dining room, despite the doctor's clear orders against him leaving the bed for at least a week.

"What does he know, anyway?" The old man asked when Diego and his Aunt Carolina reminded him of that. "I have lived in this body for 70 years already. It's won't just stop working because a doctor says it might!"

About ten minutes later, as the three of them and Emmanuel were taking their breakfast in relative silence, knocks were heard at the door and, as the servants opened, Captain Jiménez, his Sergeant and some ten soldiers came in.

"Don Emmanuel Felipe de Lara, Conde de Rivera," he said, holding up and opening a scrolled document to read out loud, "by order of King Carlos the IVth, you are hereby ordered to vacate these premises which will pass to the property - "

"Wait!" Emmanuel Dos Santos stopped the man at noticing something strange about the document just as the Count's temper was rising. "May I see that?" He didn't actually ask as much as went to have a better look.

The puzzled man was about to have his soldiers push him aside when Emmanuel shouted. "This is a forgery! Look!" He said with a relieved smile and Diego, after glancing at his aunt and grandfather, stood up from the table and headed towards his friend. "It has no watermark. My father was a General. The watermark was the first thing he looked for whenever receiving a document signed by the King. All authentic documents must bear one!"

As he said that, the Captain lifted the paper higher to look at it in the light, and Diego, his grandfather, as well as several of the soldiers also looked at it carefully.

"It's true! This can't be authentic." The puzzled Captain stated. "But the signature matches the King's exactly. I checked it!"

"Why would anyone forge such an order knowing full well that the King will know he did not give it?" Diego wondered as he looked at his grandfather.

"He probably had some bad intent. Must be the same person who tried to have us all believe you were dead." The Count replied.

"But there's only one man who could have done something like this, and he is said to be incorruptible," Emmanuel muttered.

"Who?" Diego asked.

"Indeed. Although, I did hear rumors that he is not as incorruptible as he wants others to believe he is. I've never believed them before, but…" The Captain stated pensively before Emmanuel answered.

"Who are you talking about?" Diego inquired, feeling like nobody was granting him any attention.

"Enrique Rodero. Spain's top calligrapher. He is said to be able to reproduce anyone's writing to the point to which the man himself, when presented with the document, might wonder if it was not him to have actually written it. Several are said to have even agreed it was them. If someone is behind this, it must be either he or one of his apprentices, although I have never heard of one to have been as talented as he is. Still… Rodero is not known to be a forger..." The Captain stated. "Young man," he then addressed Emmanuel, "you have prevented me from committing a grave injustice today. I thank you for that. Count, please accept my deepest apologies. I give you my word, Señor, that I'll get to the bottom of this."

"What's this?" They heard from the door as the Count's sons entered and found the lancers in the hallway. "You can't enforce that document now! Father is unwell! We need more time." Juan Carlos said.

"It's alright, Uncle, the document turned out to be false. Emmanuel realized it bears no watermark." Diego replied. "The Captain already apologized for having allowed himself to be fooled by it."

"Thank God!" His uncles both said at the same time.

"Indeed," Jiménez answered. "I was on my way to see Señor Enrique Rodero since he's the most probable author of this forgery or, at least, he might point us in the right direction to find the culprit."

ZZZ

Less than half an hour later, the Captain and his men reached Rodero's house.

Seeing them approach, however, the man had had just enough time to gather his valuables and leave through the back door, taking with him a few sets of forged travel documents, each made by him and issued on a different name. Heading towards Merida, he made his way south across the border.

When Ynez Risendo had come to ask him for his help against the De Laras, a few months earlier, offering him the small fortune she had obtained after selling all her jewels, he did have a slight fear that what she wanted him to do might end up in disaster, but she knew exactly how to convince him, anyway. He had tried to convince her to go for a different approach, such as a debtor's note, but she insisted that it had to be a document from the King – whose actions might impact the Count the most - sent to the Captain responsible for that area of Madrid with orders to confiscate the De Laras' properties urgently. She, clearly, did not foresee that the man might disobey orders signed in the King's name just out of respect for the old man, nor that someone would be there to spot the only clue to the fact that the document was a fake.

As things stood and he saw himself faced with a possible arrest and execution for his illegal deeds, which, as everyone was to find out a few days later, were numerous, he embarked on a ship headed for Brazil, where he was certain he'd be out of the reach of the Spanish authorities.

Meanwhile, the search of his house revealed that he had, for years already, expanded his business and had made a great deal of money by accepting requests to create fake documents, from testaments to property grants and debt notes, which had changed the destiny of countless people. Whenever the authenticity of said documents was disputed in the court of law, he'd also be the one to testify to their authenticity as key witness, thus making sure they would be abided.

During the following month, most of them - at least those whose drafts were discovered through the search - the authorities managed to reverse, but, in every single case, the harm had already been done, people had seen their lives ruined, some even lost their minds or committed suicide when finding themselves bankrupt or, in the case of several young women, forced to marry men neither they nor their parents would have ever chosen for themselves.

As for the De Laras, while glad that they had escaped disaster and the plan against them had not worked, they were, however, rather resentful about the King having decided against receiving the Count's sons when they had gone to ask for an audience. Ferdinand, the Apparent Heir to the Crown, had received them, but he did not have the power to overrule an order given by his father, even if he had promised to do what he could to help them.

The two had not understood at the time that Ferdinand's only interest was to keep the noblemen by his side when he'd force his father to abdicate, a plan which was already in motion. The Count did, however, understand that the king he had loyally served, as he had once served his father, had not been there when he needed him. That lesson he shared with Diego at some point, when he felt like making confessions to his grandson.