Chapter 46 – Jeopardy
"That's the one. That man just leaving on a bay horse," the alcalde said while casually pointing at the window.
"That's Esteban de la Vega?" said one of the three men while looking through the dirty glass.
"Yes."
"Come on. Let's go," the man said, urging the other two out of the alcalde's office.
Ramón should have been suspicious about these men the moment they showed up at his office demanding information about the young De la Vega, at least if he could give a damn about his safety, but he never did. If anything, he was delighted about the odd chance to get rid of that impertinent thorn in his side without getting involved in the dirty act directly.
"Let me know if you need anything else," he said at the door as the menacing trio got on their horses.
"Thank you, Alcalde."
"You are very welcome." And even more if you dispose of that son of a bitch for me.
"You have been very helpful. We'll let our people in Madrid know of your cooperation."
Even better, Ramón thought, stepping back into his office with a crooked smile on his face.
ZZZ
The tavern was full of people when Esteban left. Victoria wanted to stop him and talk to him to put things straight, but right after he got on his horse a fight broke between two customers, vaqueros of two rival ranches. Recently, there had been quite a lot of friction between them about the rights of way for the cattle and the use of the brook that run through both properties, and the verbal argument that afternoon had turned physical really fast. They started punching each other and soon their respective friends got also involved, and the brawl escalated to a full-blown battle between the vaqueros of the two neighbouring haciendas. In the chaos, a small group of them got upstairs, chasing one another. They continued fighting on the balcony, punching and pushing each other so hard they broke the wooden handrail and some fell on top of the other men on the ground floor, in a tangled mess of arms and legs. Despite Victoria's efforts to stop them, shouting at the irrational men from the counter, the fight continued until the soldiers got in, alarmed by the commotion and all the yelling that could be heard across the plaza.
"Sergeant! Do something!" Victoria cried when Mendoza entered the tavern.
"Stop it right now!" Mendoza shouted at the top of his lungs, but everybody ignored him, so he grabbed his gun and fired it, aiming at the ceiling, hitting one of the anchors of the chandelier. Unfortunately, the heavy structure fell off, hitting two of the vaqueros. With that shock, the fight stopped instantly.
"Sergeant! Not like that!" Victoria cried.
"I'm sorry, Señorita, I… I… Madre de Dios! Lancers! Help these men! Rápido!"
While they helped the injured men trapped under the bulky chandelier, Victoria approached Don Alejandro.
"Don Alejandro, I am worried about Esteban. He could have another fit and fall off his horse, don't you think? I should go after him and talk to him."
"No. You stay here. The tavern is a mess, and you have enough on your plate right here dealing with this disaster. Don't worry, I'll go. And I'll help you with this as soon as I can."
The old don got on Dulcinea and headed out of the pueblo in the same direction Esteban had taken, roughly towards the hacienda De la Vega. He couldn't find him, so in the end he returned home to check if he was there already. When he arrived, Felipe was saddling his pinto, ready to go.
"Have you seen Esteban?"
"No, but his horse arrived not long ago. Where is he? Did he have another fit? I was riding to the pueblo to find out what happened."
"I don't know where he is. He set out, upset about Victoria, probably aimlessly, heading nowhere. We have to find him."
"Why is he upset about Victoria?"
"Oh, I got good news, Felipe. She reconsidered and now wants to marry our Diego instead of Zorro!"
"Really?" Felipe could not believe it, and a big smile materialized instantly on his face.
"It's wonderful, isn't it? Diego was so upset yesterday it hurt me just looking at him. This morning I thought it was a good idea that he would ride to Monterey as a distraction, but now I regret encouraging him to go. He should be here, enjoying this moment. But, enough about Diego, because we must find Esteban. Anything could have happened. I'll tell the men."
ZZZ
Esteban could not accept the fact Victoria had reconsidered and now wanted to marry Diego. He had mixed feelings about it, because he knew he should feel happy for his cousin, but he couldn't. While she was engaged to Zorro, he had always thought there was a chance she would dump him, as their relationship was progressing nowhere. But now, if she really had the intention of marrying Diego, as his uncle had just told him, that was a more final development. He knew he was acting like a child with a tantrum when he got on his horse and galloped away heading nowhere, but he soon calmed down and halted the horse to return to the tavern. He had to talk to Victoria like a man, and not behave like a spoiled brat. And, above all, he should congratulate the couple, as difficult as that task would be for him right then.
On the way back to the pueblo, he saw three men on the road galloping in his direction at full speed. He veered and tried to stay out of their way, keeping to the right side of the camino, thinking they were in a hurry to get somewhere. He recognized one of them too late, and he couldn't avoid the unexpected blow that man threw at him. When that strong arm hit Esteban's throat he fell off the horse, landing hard on his back. He lay on the ground then, defenceless, dazed and hurting, hardly able to breathe, trying to make sense of what had happened, when another man dismounted quickly and punched his face hard, rendering him unconscious.
ZZZ
Don Alejandro organized a search party quickly and efficiently, and the group started looking for Esteban in the area close to the hacienda while he and Felipe searched on the road to the pueblo again, but to no avail. There was no sign of him.
"Alcalde, my nephew has disappeared," Don Alejandro said when they arrived at the alcalde's office.
"Disappeared? What do you mean? He was here less than two hours ago," Ramón said, delighted with the news. Those men had certainly worked fast. Esteban could be buried already for all he knew, and for all he cared.
"Yes, and now we can't find him."
"I wouldn't call that disappeared, Don Alejandro. I think you are a little bit over-dramatic, aren't you?"
"No, I am not. Don't you know he suffers from seizures now? He may have fallen off his horse and injure himself badly."
"Maybe he shouldn't ride a horse then."
"Maybe, from now on, but he was already riding one the last time I saw him!" Don Alejandro said, increasingly irritated by the alcalde's dismissive attitude. "I would like to see your lancers on a search party as soon as possible, please."
"That would take time to organize. And as I said, I don't think it will be necessary. I'm sure your nephew will return home soon, safe and sound."
"His horse returned to the hacienda already and hour ago! Without him! I'm telling you: he could be in serious trouble, and we must find him as soon as possible. And don't come up with a cock and bull story about the difficulties of launching a search party! My men are already looking for him, and that took less than twenty minutes to organize. But I don't have enough hands for this task, so please, get your lazy soldiers on the move. Now!"
"I'm going to ignore your demanding tone of voice because I understand your anxiety," the alcalde said slowly, with a patronizing tone that veiled his own irritation. "As you can see, I am reasonable and I can compromise: if your nephew has not returned home over the next four hours, I'll launch a search party then."
"Four hours? Are you insane? He could be dead by then! I need that search party right now!"
"Take it, or leave it!" Ramón shouted, tired of controlling his rage. "I will not spend resources in a senseless search for someone who could just be wandering and not missing at all! And now, get out of my way!" he finished, standing up to show the old don the door.
"You better pray we don't find him too late, or…" Don Alejandro threatened with his index finger, while Felipe grabbed his other arm to drag him away from the alcalde.
"Or what, exactly? Get out of here! Now! Before I lose my patience completely!"
After they left the office Ramón smiled wickedly, happy with the turn of events. The three newcomers from Spain had asked for a secluded, abandoned place, and he had suggested the derelict building close to the river, deep into the woods, quite close to the pueblo but far enough from the main routes coming in and out of it, or any paths still in use. Somewhere quite unlikely anybody would look for Esteban while they questioned him, and, if they kept him down in the cellar, nobody could hear him even if he screamed his lungs out. All Ramón had to do was keeping the soldiers away from that place, and give the men from Madrid time to do what they had to do. And Esteban would be history.
ZZZ
When he came around, Esteban thought for a moment he was recovering from another seizuring episode, as the sensation was so vaguely similar. But, when his shoulders hurt, he realized he was upright and tied up, hanging from a rope tightly fasten around each wrist, with another one bonding his ankles, keeping his feet together. For a moment he wondered why, until he remembered the man who hit him on the road, and his heart automatically raced faster. He didn't personally know that man, as they had never been properly introduced, but he knew his reputation, as everybody did in Madrid. He looked around quickly then, not recognizing the damp, dark place, illuminated only by a couple of candles in an old lamp.
"Look who's back with us," said that man, Carlos Berlanga, the right hand of the Duke of Cádiz.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Esteban said, pulling from the ropes in vain, panicking to be at his mercy because, according to the gossip, that man never showed any.
"What do you think?" Carlos said, delivering a hard punch to Esteban's abdomen.
Esteban gasped, bending forward, painfully aware that would be the first blow of many to come, and in his current predicament, he could do nothing to stop it. His feet hardly touched the ground, and, as they were bond together, kicking the attackers would be even more difficult than usual in that position.
"We've been looking for you for a while. You've been hiding like a filthy rat," said another man.
"Exactly. And we don't like rats, do we?" Carlos said, punching Esteban's nose, making it bleed. "That's what we do to rats: beating them up to death!" he added, following with another hard blow to the abdomen, aiming for the liver.
"Carlos, be careful. You shouldn't kill him before he talks," the third man said when he saw Esteban hanging from the rope still and floppy, already semiconscious.
"Wake him up. This may take a while," Carlos said while rubbing his sore knuckles, putting his leather gloves on for protection to carry on.
They used ammonia salts under Esteban's nose then to get him alert quickly, not giving him a break to rest.
"How did you find me?" Esteban asked when he woke up again, while rubbing his irritated, bleeding nose on his sleeve to get rid of the strong, ammonia smell.
"Oh, that was easy. Your mother was very cooperative," Carlos said.
"What did you do to her?" Esteban cried while pulling from the ropes again, shaking them, falling for that cheap trick.
"Anything I wanted," Carlos said, laughing. "As I said, she was very cooperative."
"Bastard! What did you do to my mother?!"
Carlos didn't answer, replying with another round of blows that left Esteban without the will to live, and even less, complain again about anything.
"Nothing happened to your mother, don't worry," said Alberto, the more compassionate man in the trio. He knew that if they antagonized their prisoner too much he wouldn't talk at all, a concept their leader didn't seem to ever grasp. "We knew you had relatives in California. It was only logical you would come here with your father. By the way, where is he?"
"He left already," Esteban said in a whisper while panting, out of strength to talk louder, "back to Spain."
"Did you tell him anything?"
"No. He doesn't know what happened in Madrid."
"Who knows then?"
"Nobody."
"Sure?"
When Esteban saw Carlos cocking his gun, he changed his mind to gain more time, although that would only mean a longer torture, and probably with the same end result. Still, he had to try something.
"I told one person."
"Who?"
"I am not going to tell you who, because you'll hurt him too."
"Don't worry about that. I'll keep hurting you instead," Carlos said, advancing towards him with his fist clenched.
ZZZ
Esteban had vanished without a trace and the search was proving useless, but for two hours Felipe helped the old don, unable to part with him to get Diego aware of the situation. The night would come soon and he was wasting precious time, because finding the small cottage in San Bernardino would be more difficult for him in the dark. He wasn't sure about his mentor's mental state for this task, but if Esteban was really in trouble, Diego was the best one to find him. After all, upset or not, he was the legendary Zorro, and the best tracker in the territory.
ZZZ
Esteban was so dizzy and confused with the shower of blows he kept receiving, swimming deep into that cloud of pain, he couldn't think straight.
"Who did you tell?" Carlos asked again, slapping Esteban's face one more time.
"Nobody," he mumbled, only to receive another slap that jerked his face to the other side.
"Lower him down a bit," Carlos ordered. When one of them released some tension from the rope and Esteban dropped on his knees, Carlos yanked on his hair, twisting his head so he looked upwards, holding it still in that position, facing him.
"You said before you told one person. Who did you tell?"
"I don't know… I can't remember."
"Did you tell your father? Your uncle?" Carlos asked, yanking harder on his hair. Esteban complained, crying with his mouth open, but he didn't say anything else. "Give me the pliers. And hold him still."
If they were somewhere else instead of that abandoned cellar, maybe someone would have heard Esteban's desperate cries when Carlos brutally pulled one of his teeth with the pliers, but nobody did.
"Who did you tell?" Carlos asked one more time, holding the broken tooth in front of Esteban's face. "You better start talking, because I have a few more to pull until you do."
"My cousin… Diego," he whispered, giving up. At least Diego was momentarily safe, on the way to Monterey.
"It wasn't that difficult, was it?" Carlos said, sinking the pliers into the snapped roots of that tooth. Esteban howled and immediately stood still, dropping his head forward, unable to withstand that sharp, intense pain that shot right into his brain.
"Give him a few minutes and we'll start again. We have to make sure nobody else knows about this before I send him to hell," Carlos said, flicking the tooth off his fingers.
ZZZZZ
AN – Sorry for the gratuitous maiming, but things are a little bit difficult for me in real life right now, and, as maiming real people is frowned upon these days, I have to take solace in hurting my imaginary characters instead of the real offenders. If you have never tried this technique, I highly recommend it. It is quite therapeutic. Well, kind of… Anyway, ignore the torture if you don't like it (maybe only MJF (aka "Queen of torture") will do, hahaha.) Just remember Esteban's past has caught up with him and he is in deep trouble (although I still don't know what happened in Madrid myself. I hope I can come up with something realistic (and shocking enough), or it will remain a mystery for everybody. Ha!)
Once again, thank you for the kind reviews. XXX