"So," Emmanuel said in late February of 1814, as they installed themselves into a large house they had bought in Madrid, "now that we have some 80 men in our employment and your smuggler friends changed careers, where do we go from here?"

Diego seemed pensive for a while. "We hire informers. We must find some intelligent men, of confidence, able to get us the information we cannot obtain ourselves," he answered. "We will need at least two good lawyers able to follow instructions, and with no family to attach them to Spain. We will also need investigators; and we should also find employees from amongst the former servants of noble families here. People who know their former masters' secrets. The higher-up their former employers, the better. We start recruiting as soon as possible," he replied.

About three weeks later they had succeeded in finding a couple of good lawyers, one of which was also a very good detective, and several new servants, a couple of them having previously been working at the Royal Palace.

About a month after that, Diego and Emmanuel had the proof they needed: written testimonies certifying to Diego's and Emmanuel's involvement as leaders of the riots that followed the French troops march into Madrid in spring of 1808, both signed by De Soto and Risendo, as well as the sentence by a magistrate that imprisoned Diego for 30 years in Chateau D'If for treason.

"The strange thing is," said the man who had managed to find the documents for them, "that the magistrate whose name is on these papers says he had never seen them in his life. In fact, he wasn't even in Madrid when this sentence was pronounced, which is quite strange, because he did say the signature very much resembles his own. Though he also said the proof – the two written testimonies, that is – was hardly enough for a conviction."

"The sentence must be a forgery, then," Diego uttered.

"A very convincing one if no one disputed it…" his friend added as he signaled for the informer to leave them.

"During war? Who would even care? It's a miracle the French didn't just shoot me on the spot…" the caballero said, then made a visible effort to calm down. "The abbot was right about them…" he concluded in the same tone one would use to curse another person.

"We know the who and the how. As for the why…" Emmanuel pointed out.

"The why we only know in part." Diego said. "We know why De Soto did it. Gilberto's motivations are what bother me, though. I can't shake the feeling that there is something I am missing when it comes to him… What he told me when he came to see me in prison and the fact that he had been, most probably, the one to give the news of my presumed treachery to my grandfather attest to his grudge being, most probably, directed towards my family, not just against me… If Gilberto has some kind of grudge against my family, we should know his reasons. We must find whoever is still around to remember my father's military career."

"And what if Gilberto had good reasons to hold a grudge against your father?"

"I doubt it. Whatever the case, nothing justifies what Gilberto did to me."

"So we are still in agreement, then? We will make those two pay for all the harm they have caused."

"Yes. We will make sure justice prevails. But, in the meantime, I also need to send people to Los Angeles. I need to know that my father, Victoria, and Felipe are alright. If we are to remain here until Risendo and De Soto are punished, I need to, at least, make sure the ones I love are safe."

"I will start searching for a few good men to send to California on your behalf," his friend said and turned to leave. "Perhaps your smuggler friends?"

"We need them here. Besides, they are just now learning Spanish. Perhaps the newspapers might be of help... See if you can find some going back at least three months. See if there are articles about lawyers taking cases for free or winning against the odds. Those are the ones we will start with."

Emmanuel nodded and was about to leave, but Diego stopped him as he was exiting the door. "We should also try to find out what we can about Sir Kendall. After all the time I spent in prison, my swordsmanship is a little rusty. I might need a few more of his lessons before I face my enemies… And, we'll need disguises. If we are to trick the aristocracy, we can't appear to them as Don Diego de la Vega and Emmanuel Dos Santos."

ZZZ

Diego's new name was Sebastian de Murietta, the forename because it was his father's middle name, and the surname mainly because he liked the sound of it, if for no particular reason. Besides, he had never met a Murrieta and the rarity of the name – at least in his circles – appealed to him.

Emmanuel, in turn, chose the name Rafael Montoya, a combination of his father's first name and his mother's family name.

A lawyer was more than happy to procure the proper documentation for the two of them. After all, money could buy one any name – perhaps with the exception of the king's. (Though, on the other hand, who in their right mind would want 27 first and middle names, anyway?)

The next step was for Diego to invent a new personality for himself.

"I think you should be eccentric…" Emmanuel suggested. "A little flamboyant perhaps..."

"I'm not sure that fits me. Nor that I am a good enough actor, frankly, to pull it off." Diego replied. "But, perhaps, I can be eccentric in other ways. Like… Like… being quite keen on punctuality…"

"Like Professor Gasset!" Emmanuel said, remembering one of their university professors who everyone knew to have a strange obsession for punctuality.

"Exactly! Just like Professor Gasset. Always on time; never early and never late."

"And how will you pull that off?"

"If Professor Gasset managed, why wouldn't I? Considering our resources, surely we can find ways to make sure to avoid incidents. Like, for example, travel with a spare carriage. If a wheel breaks, I can just move to the other one and it would hardly cost us much."

"That could work…" Emmanuel considered. "Though you do realize no matter how well you prepare, there is always the unpredictable. Things and events you can't anticipate."

"True. But they are, fortunately, a rare occurrence." Diego said. "So, punctuality would be one quirk my new personality should have. What else?"

"A strange hairstyle?"

Diego stood up from the chair he was occupying, and stated pacing the room. "Not that strange or I would seem ridiculous… Long hair. Shoulder-length. And… dress unlike the Spanish… to explain why nobody knows me here, we will say I've spent years abroad… But where?"

"India?" Emmanuel asked, then his face lit up as he came up with an even better idea. "The Ottoman Empire!" He suggested with enthusiasm.

"Stambul!" Diego agreed. "That would be perfect. We've both seen it, after all, so we are more than able to provide detailed accounts of the life there."

"We'd have to find out the news from there – what happened during the last five years or so; but yes, I believe we could pass as people who had spent an awful long time enjoying life at Topkapi Palace." Emmanuel replied, as they both smiled at their idea.

ZZZ

Finding any of the soldiers who had once known Don Alejandro proved a very difficult task, so Diego decided to change strategy and try to find some of his grandfather's servants that might have known his father. There, he was in luck.

After the old man had died, the few servants that had remained with him till the end had given him a rather modest burial, then, most of them headed away, to whatever relatives they had in the countryside. All but one couple, an old man and his wife, who had decided to wait in the old man's house till his heir would come to claim it.

Diego and Emmanuel found them both suffering from malnutrition, the man in the hallway, presumably after having fallen down some stairs and remained there, and the old woman lying in bed with a fever. After taking the old couple to their house, they called a doctor who proclaimed that the two were lucky to still be alive.

"Where am I?" the woman asked at waking up about two days later, looking around the room.

"You're alright now. We found you feverish, so we have brought you home with us. You husband is also here, but his condition is worse than yours… He will be fine, but he has yet to wake up," Diego told her.

She started crying at hearing his words, not recognizing the young man she had once known quite well. "I had given up all hope of being found in time… To get some help. Gracias! Gracias, Señores! Que Dios os bendiga!"

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to come sooner," the young man said and, at that point the old woman wiped her tears to look better at him.

"Don Diego? Is that really you?" she asked.

He just nodded sadly and allowed her to embrace him.

About a week later, when both old people found themselves better, Diego decided it was high time for him to start asking the questions he needed to ask. The man couldn't tell them much, but the woman still had a good memory.

"I do remember Don Alejandro. Your father was a good man, always treating everyone with kindness," she told him. "He never gambled, nor was he ever involved in a duel from what I know…"

"Did he have any enemies?"

"Enemies? I don't believe so… he was very fair… but also very strict. Perhaps some soldier who misbehaved? Oh… Dios! I know…"

"You remembered something?"

"A soldier had killed his brother, poor Don Alfonso. It happened during a fight in Nova España. They both served there for a while… Don Alejandro was devastated when he returned to Madrid… And he certainly had a grudge against that man. I imagine it must have been mutual."

"Do you remember the soldier's name?"

"No… But I know it was someone in his unit. A lancer who had betrayed Don Alfonso, shot him in the back, then deserted them in the middle of the battle."

"And do you know what happened to him?"

"I believe he is long dead, Patron…"

"Perhaps he had a son?" Emmanuel suggested.

"Or two… One in Madrid, one in the colonies…" Diego muttered, trying to remember all Gilberto had ever recounted about himself.

"I don't know that…"

Diego became pensive for a while. "Can you tell us everything else you remember about my father?" he then asked.

"Well, after his brother's death, Don Alejandro decided to quit the military and return home to California, but my former master – your poor grandfather – never did like that plan very much. So he convinced him to accept a position in Cadiz instead. Doña Elena accompanied him for a while, but then she became pregnant, and decided it was best to spend the last two months before giving birth here, in Madrid, where they had better doctors and her father always at her beck and call. Don Alejandro, thus, hired a midwife… A woman called Inez Risendo, if I remember correctly."

"Risendo, you said?" Diego asked, his interest peaked.

"Yes… I think so…"

"And is there anything you remember about her?"

"I remember she was a very strange woman. I always had the feeling that she was plotting something; that she was being dishonest somehow… Your mother also sensed the same. The day you were born, she simply disappeared. She and a young servant, Julia. But they later found poor Julia dead in the woods. They said it was a mugging…"

"I see… And this midwife, did she also have a child, by any chance? A boy perhaps?" Emmanuel inquired.

"No, Señor. In fact, I remember she couldn't have children… That is, at least, what she had told my master…"

"Are you certain?"

"Si… Julia did once tell me that she had asked her why, and Inez had told her that it was because the man who was supposed to father her children was away and could never return to her."

"So the last time anyone saw this Inez Risendo was when Diego was born?" Emmanuel inquired.

The woman gave him a puzzled look. "Si, Señor. She even left without her last pay… It was all very strange…" she replied. "But" she then addressed both young men, "why do you want to know so much about things that happened so long ago?"

"Because, as it turns out they still have repercussions in the present." Diego said. "Thank you for telling me all that. We will let you rest now," he continued and, slightly bowing as goodbye, he headed outside the elderly woman's room accompanied by his friend.

"Could your father have had an affair with the woman? Would it be possible that Gilberto and you…" Emmanuel tried to ask as soon as they were in one of the rooms serving as an office, but stopped before finishing.

"No… my father loved my mother more than his own life. He would have never hurt her in such a way," he answered. "Although… If I remember correctly, Gilberto and the two of us were in the same year. We are, most probably, the same age. Meaning his mother was already… Wait… He mentioned that Inez was his adoptive mother. That he had been abandoned by his parents…"

"That doesn't mean he told you the truth. Why would he?" Emmanuel wondered.

"You're right," Diego agreed, though a strange feeling that he was missing something, something that could be obvious if only he knew where to look, started nagging at him. "Some answers, I guess, you can only find out at the source. Risendo knows why he did all he did, and I am starting to suspect no one else does. What we can find out, however, is who's protecting him and why. That's the next assignment for our men. Find out what power the man still wields."

ZZZ

"José Fernando Almansa Moreno-Barreda, Viscount of Castillo de Almansa" Diego repeated what one of the men in his employment had just told him. "And do you know why he has interfered on his behalf?"

"As I was told, Don Gilberto had once saved the life of the Viscount's daughter. Nobody I talked to was able to tell me the exact circumstances of the rescue, but it seems that she had been taken by some French soldiers not long after they had first occupied Spain. Don José Fernando and his family joined Ferdinand in France a couple of years ago, and when the king returned, he came with him."

"I see. So Gilberto has the protection of a nobleman." Diego uttered.

"If that viscount protects Risendo, there' an easy fix to the situation," Emmanuel pointed out. "All you need is a higher nobility title. Since Ferdinand needs money, and you happen to have some, I doubt that will be hard to get."

Diego nodded.

"There is something else I have found out," the man, a rather small individual, with glasses and an honest look in his eyes, said.

"And what is that, Señor De Amo?" Diego inquired.

"Well… It seems that Señor Risendo is bound for Alta California as we speak."

"Alta California?"

"Si, Señor. And the other man about who you had asked me to inquire, Señor De Soto, is already there. He's been alcalde of a small pueblo called Los Angeles for a few months already."

Diego and Emmanuel exchanged a worried glance at that.

"Your father is in danger," Emmanuel simply pointed out.

Diego nodded. "We can't waste anymore time here! Those two are up to something… This has always been about more than just my demise."

"We can't rush, either. You need that title before leaving."

"I already have a title…"

"One you can't use," Emmanuel said. "Not for the moment. You need another one. And you'll need a good name for that! A name people would remember…"

The taller man considered his friend's words, yet shook his head. "But I risk losing those I love by the time I get home," he then pointed out.

"We can send a few men ahead, like we've already discussed."

"Yes, but who?" Diego asked nervously. They all went silent for a few moments until the caballero glanced at Señor De Amo. "You wouldn't by any chance fancy a trip to the colonies, would you, Señor?" he asked.

"Well… to be frank, I have been thinking about moving there for a while now. I understand there's a scarcity of lawyers."

"Indeed," Diego said, before exchanging a glance with Emmanuel. "Though, should you succeed in the tasks I intend to set out for you, you shall never need to work again… Unless you want to, of course."