To say that Don Alejandro felt lost after receiving the news of his son's demise would be an understatement.
For years he had known something must have happened to Diego. For years he had contemplated the prospect of never seeing him again. Yet, in all that time, his son's death was a possibility, not a certainty.
The letter he had received bore the sigil of the Justice Department of the French Empire and the don had no reason not to trust the information in it. Yet, despite it all, he still found it impossible to give up all hope. Besides, there was still a lot he didn't know about the circumstances under which his son had perished considering that part of the letter – more specifically, the part he expected to contain the information he needed – had been severely damaged during its long voyage to California.
So, after a few days taken to grieve and attempt to decipher the smudged parts of the letter, he sat down at his desk, and wrote back requesting details regarding the circumstances that led to his son's demise and information about Diego's final days and resting place.
As he finished the letter, the elderly man sealed the envelope, remained looking at it for a while, then stood up and glanced out the window, remembering happier times.
"I should have known something was wrong the day he had left, when that colt went missing. I should have gone after Diego. Stop him from getting on that ship… He and Victoria would be married now, and I'd be helping them raise my grandchildren," he mused. "Dear God, please give me a miracle! Please let the letter be wrong! Let me see my son again!" the elderly don couldn't stop himself from whispering as he glanced up at the sky.
Sighing, he returned to the letter and put it in his jacket. After asking one of his stable hands to saddle his mare, he mounted and left for the pueblo. He rode slowly, taking the time to wonder what his son's last words might have been and if Diego had thought of his home and at his father before closing his eyes for eternity. His musings were interrupted by the buzzing in the plaza as he arrived in Los Angeles to find it decorated for a fiesta.
"What's going on?" he asked Victoria as he dismounted and joined the young woman on the tavern's terrace.
"An emissary sent by the king himself is due to arrive soon, Don Alejandro!" she answered.
"An emissary?" hardly did he uttered that question when the gathered people started pointing at the pueblo's gate and the don turned to see a platoon of Royal Guardsmen all armed to the teeth nearing the pueblo. Leading them was a good-looking young man in a colonel's uniform.
A couple of minutes later, they passed through the gate and slowed down as they neared the alcalde, who was awaiting them near the fountain.
"Emissary, welcome to the charming Pueblo de Los Angeles," De Soto said as soon as the man stopped his horse right in front of him and glanced around.
"Charming? I've seen better dung heaps in the slums of Madrid!" he answered displeased as he stared at De Soto for a few moments, then surveyed the gathered crowd. "I am the Royal Emissary Gilberto Risendo," he announced the people in the plaza, from atop his horse, "and I am here on a mission from King Ferdinand of Spain. The king demands the sum of twenty thousand pesos to be paid by this pueblo as a contribution to the reconstruction of Spain and the efforts aimed at stopping the rebellious activities in the colonies. You have one week to pay the due sum or shall pay with your life for your disobedience!"
"Twenty thousand pesos or you'll execute those unable to pay?" Victoria asked in outrage from the tavern's porch. "No! We pay our taxes! More than we owe, even. Why should we pay more just so that the king's men, people like you, can execute more innocents?"
"Victoria!" Don Alejandro tried to stop her. He was too late, alas, for one of Gilberto's men already pointed a gun at her.
The young woman froze in place at that, fear clear on her face.
"I see you side with the rebels, Señorita. Well, treachery will not be accepted here from now on! Lieutenant Hidalgo, take her to jail!" Risendo ordered.
His lieutenant, a good-looking man not much older than his rather young commander, dismounted and took a few steps in Victoria's direction.
"Emissary, you misunderstand her!" Don Alejandro intervened to say, stepping in front of Victoria, between her and Hidalgo's gun. "She is not a rebel! Victoria is a good woman, faithful to Spain, and to the king," he hurried to say.
"That's not what her words reveal," the colonel retorted.
"She may be outspoken, but this young woman has always been a faithful subject to our king. She only meant to say that it would be unjust to execute those too poor to pay the requested taxes..." the elderly hacien insisted. "She…" he hesitated about what to say, "she is not herself these days, considering some news we recently received. You can understand that, can you not? Please! The jail is no place for a woman, Emissary!"
Gilberto considered that explanation as he signaled for his man to put down his gun. "News… And what news are you referring to if I may know?"
"News of… of my son's death…"
"I see. My condolences, señor…" Risendo uttered expectantly.
"I am Don Alejandro de la Vega, friend to the Royal family." The haciendado said proudly, and was inwardly glad to see the emissary seemed dumbfounded, misinterpreting the causes for that reaction. "Perhaps even you have heard of me?"
Gilberto nodded. "Indeed, I have, Señor. I have certainly heard of you." He replied.
"Well, then… This young woman is the closest thing I have to family since receiving the mentioned news. I would be grateful to you if you'd overlook her words."
Gilberto nodded. "Your son is dead you said?" he asked the don.
"Si, Señor…"
"Emissary Risendo," De Soto said, set on ending that conversation there, unable to stop himself from pitying the older don, "if I may have a word with you…"
Gilberto clenched his fists, but followed him to the office with no more words addressed to Don Alejandro. "Never interrupt me again!" he told De Soto as soon as they were alone.
"For God's sake, leave the man be, Gilberto! At least for a few days! He's just found out Diego has been dead for a year now!"
"It is true then? But how is it that news of this only reaches us now?"
"How should I know? It does take a while for letters from France to arrive in this maldito pueblo."
"And how trustworthy is this information?"
"It was sent by the French Justice Department."
"I see. Did it also mention the cause of death?"
"Drowning. The letter was half-smudged by the time it got here, but I could make out the words for "castle" and "escape". Not much else, unfortunately."
Gilberto nodded. "The idiot must have drowned while trying to escape from Chateau D'If..." he concluded. "Diego truly is dead, then…"
"It seems so…"
"He made his bed…" Gilberto said, no trace of remorse in his voice. "And how are things progressing here? Is everything going according to our plan?" he then asked.
"De la Vega is close to bankruptcy, just as you had requested. I doubt he can even pay his share of the money you are asking for. His remaining horses are fine animals, but he won't part with them, and most of the cows are gestating, so I doubt he has any intention to sell them anytime soon. His only other income source at the moment are his vineyards. Though, I do hear they are rather full of fruit this year."
"Really?" Gilberto said pensively. "Lieutenant Hidalgo!" he then called and his man immediately made his way inside.
"Si, Emissary!"
"Take three men and a lancer to show you the territory. Make sure he includes the De la Vega vineyards in the tour! Tomorrow night, I want you to set them on fire. Nothing should be left of them. Am I clear?" he ordered to De Soto's bafflement.
"Si, Emissary!" the man said as he exited.
"Burn down the vineyards? Aren't you going too far? We already caused the death of the man's son and took away most of his fortune. Isn't that enough revenge for Diego's defeats in those tournaments?"
"You still think this is about some stupid fencing tournaments, Ignacio? I had thought you smarter than that." Gilberto said as he helped himself to a glass of wine.
"If not that, then what is it about?"
"You'll find out at the right time and not a moment sooner." Finishing his drink, Risendo demanded that the alcalde's quarters be put at his disposal and that his men be given rooms in the garrison.
De Soto inwardly cursed the younger man before having Mendoza move his things, while the sergeant's few possessions he moved to the one shared by Sepulveda and Gomez.
The sergeant wasn't very pleased, either.
ZZZ
By the time the De la Vega servants noticed the fire, half the vineyards were already destroyed. It was only quick-thinking on the part of the old don that prevented a complete disaster. Acting fast, he grabbed an ax, mounted his mare and, followed by some similarly-equipped vaqueros, started cutting the vineyards situated some ten feet from the ones already burning, while several other men and women used water and blankets to stop the fire in its tracks.
In the morning, they watched the true magnitude of the disaster.
"Most of them gone…" Don Alejandro muttered, exhausted and close to giving up.
Without the vineyards, his only chance to make enough money to keep the hacienda afloat for a while longer was to sell most of the remaining animals he owned.
Thus, the following days he selected some of the best cattle to keep, then, on market day, he took the rest of them to the pueblo to sell.
And, as luck had it, just as the old don and his men arrived in Los Angeles, so did a middle-aged lawyer, who offered to buy all the animals and to pay for their upkeep at the De la Vega hacienda while he searched for a ranch to buy. Don Alejandro, while surprised by that turn of events, was more than happy to make the deal.