NOTE BY THE ACCOUNT HOLDER: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!

WRITTEN BY KARLA GREGORY

Chapter Four

As time wore on, he almost began to think that this room he was in was the entire world and that nothing else existed. Then one day he could hear shouting from the decks above and he heard the word, Spain, shouted several times. Jumping to the porthole, he could just see land on the horizon. They would not make port today as it was getting dark, but they surely would tomorrow. Diego felt a thrill just to see land again.

When it was time for his morning meal, both Joaquin and Rodrigo came into the small room. Joaquin was carrying a bundle. As he pulled the pistol from his belt he cocked it and Rodrigo did the same.

Joaquin said, "De la Vega, you will stand up and not move a muscle." He did so. "We are going to free you so that you can clean up and change into these." He threw the bundle of clothes toward Diego. "We took them from your saddlebags back in California. All right, Rodrigo, I have him covered."

Diego stood stock still with his eyes locked on Joaquin while Rodrigo unshackled him. The manacles fell to the floor one by one and Diego rubbed his wrists enjoying the sensation. Rodrigo stepped back and covered Diego with his pistol also.

Slowly Diego changed into the fresh clothes. It was his deep burgundy colored suit with the gold trim. It felt so good to put on a clean white shirt again!

Joaquin said, "I'm sorry we cannot let you shave, but we cannot let you get hold of anything sharp, you understand." Diego ran his hand over his beard, but said nothing. He could well imagine why they felt that way.

When he was dressed, Rodrigo pulled out a set of handcuffs and told him to put them on. Diego looked at them with loathing. "Come on, de la Vega, make this easier on all of us and just put them on," said Joaquin. "You will, one way or another." So Diego's shoulders slumped a little and he put them on. Rodrigo locked them with a key. "Now hold your hands over your head."

He did so, and Rodrigo passed a chain around his waist and fastened it there. It had about a five foot length of chain attached. Rodrigo stepped back holding the end of the chain and Diego lowered his hands.

"This is the plan, de la Vega," said Joaquin. "When we reach the docks we are going to go straight to the nearest military station. You will be in front of me the whole time. I will have hold of this chain concealed by my cloak. In my hand, I will hold this knife. If you try to escape, I won't stab you in the back, but I will cut you here." He made a demonstration on his own leg showing the cutting of the hamstring in the back of the leg. Seeing Diego's flash of fear, he said, "Yes, sometimes a young man's greatest fear is to become a cripple. Something to think about, eh?" Gathering up the chain he said, "Rodrigo, throw that cloak over de la Vega's handcuffs. No point in attracting attention. Now we will go up on deck."

Diego felt the point of the blade in his back as they went out of the cell and up the stairs. Joaquin's hand was steady and never faltered. Diego squinted and blinked as they came up into the sunlight. He had not been in the sun for a long time. As he looked around he realized that he had forgotten how busy a place Cadiz was. There were more people here in this one city than probably in all of California. Diego noticed the captain of the ship was keeping his distance from the three of them, but Joaquin saluted him anyway. He watched as the gangway was run out to the ship and saw the custom's official walk up it to board the vessel.

After he had checked with the captain and performed his duties there, he came over and asked to see the papers of Joaquin. Diego felt the bite of the knife in his back warning him to keep silent. Joaquin gave the officer a packet of documents, who, when he had read through them, looked briefly at Diego and then signed the documents permitting them to pass. Diego pondered this and realized that whoever he was being taken to meet had considerable influence over the military. They left the ship immediately.

The three of them walked through the busy streets of Cadiz. Once, some people jostled Diego and he felt the bite of the blade on his leg. "Wait," he hissed. "I am not trying to escape! The crowd is too thick!" The blade's pressure eased off.

"All right, but watch it," said Joaquin in his ear.

Soon they reached the military post. Joaquin presented their papers to the officer in charge. The officer read them and said, "Yes, I have orders to send you in a carriage escorted by six soldiers straight to Madrid. You can be on your way within the hour."

Diego's heart sank even more. He had foreseen numerous opportunities to escape once he reached land if he only had these two to guard him, but six soldiers plus Joaquin and Rodrigo was too much. He resigned himself to the trip, but he would still be ready.

With a military escort and changing horses every twenty miles, they should reach Madrid by the evening of the second day explained the officer. He also said that the guards would be changed three times in order to keep them fresh. Diego again wondered who in the world knew him well enough to be so cautious around him. He tried to ask, but was rebuffed.

"You will know all you need to know when you reach Madrid," he was told.

An hour later found them well started on the road to Madrid. Diego's feeling of helplessness seemed to grow with each mile they traveled towards that great city. Some of the happiest times of his life had been spent in Madrid. But that seemed like a dream now. He almost could not imagine being happy again.

Sleeping in a carriage was never an easy thing and Diego did not have much success. Joaquin and Rodrigo took turns watching and sleeping. The changes of horses and men went smoothly. They only stopped three times for meals and to stretch. At five o'clock on the second day, they pulled into the military garrison at Madrid.

Diego was placed in a cell flanked by two guards while Joaquin and Rodrigo went to report to their employer. They did not remove his handcuffs. He never saw the two bandidos again. He supposed they got their money and vanished. He prayed fervently that someone would rob them.

After it was dark, the guards removed Diego from the cell and placed him back in the carriage. They would tell him nothing, but he felt like he was finally going to meet this mysterious being who had torn apart his whole life. He could tell nothing about the streets in the dark except that he knew he was west of the University by the chiming of the church bells as they struck seven o'clock.

They pulled into the drive of a large, ornate house and stopped at the front door. Diego's emotions were in turmoil. He was ready to flee at a moment's notice, but at the same time he wanted to storm into this house and demand to know why all of this had been done to him. He wanted to meet his captor face to face and make him rue the day he had ever been born. All these things were going through his mind as he was shepherded up the stairs and into the house.

The entry gave way to a large hall. At the end of the lengthy hall was a grand, formal living room. The signs of wealth were everywhere as furniture and artwork filled the various rooms and hallway. There were guards posted along the hall and just outside the living room. He could see two men standing in that room waiting for him to arrive. One was dressed in splendid military fashion, including sword, and the other man was a finely dressed civilian. Both had their backs to him.

Diego squared his shoulders as he walked down the hall flanked by two guards. He was going to meet these people with his dignity and honor intact. He strode into the room and there received the shock of his life. For before him stood, in his entire military splendor, Capitán Enrique Sanchez Monastario.