The sun blazed on Pueblo de Los Angeles. Peasants and soldiers milled around the square, oppressed by the heat. Mendosa sat on the front porch of the tavern, leaned back in a chair against the wall, fanning himself and drinking whatever refreshment Victoria would bring him. It mattered not what it was; only that it was wet. As he emptied his glass, the tavern-keeper walked toward him, pitcher in hand.
"Why don't you move inside where it is cooler, Sergeant?" Victoria asked.
"Oh, senorita, I am on a most important assignment. The alcalde has posted me here to watch for his honored guest, his mejor amigo Don Eduardo Martinez." Mendosa replied, standing and straightening his uniform. He puffed out his chest and sucked in his massive stomach in order to appear entirely fit for the job.
"I thought so," Victoria smiled.
"You- You did?" Mendosa stammered, slouching and looking down at her.
"Yes, the alcalde asked me to arrange a banquet for Don Martinez. It is set for tomorrow."
"Oh! What are you serving?" The sergeant's countenance brightened at the idea, and he resumed his seat.
"Well," Victoria began, as she filled his glass… again, "I thought you might have some ideas for me."
"Certainly! I like those little—," Mendosa began, but he stopped suddenly when he saw a huge carriage drawn by four, glistening black horses roll into the plaza. Two riders followed the carriage on horseback.
"Pardoneme, senorita. It is Don Martinez. I must go!" Mendosa struggled to his feet and waddled over to the carriage. The footman met him at the door to the carriage, and when it was opened, the officer saluted and said, "Sergeant Jaime Mendosa at your service, Don Martinez."
A tall, imposing man with a shock of white hair stepped out of the cool, dark carriage into the heat of the sunny day. He squinted in the light for a moment and then returned the Sergeant's salute. "At ease, sergeant. I'll see De Soto now."
"Of course, follow me." With that, Mendosa clicked his heels and led the military giant into the alcalde's office just outside the cuartel.
The carriage footman began to unhitch the frothy horses. Victoria saw that he was a small, unattractive man, with a mustache that was too large for his face. Walking over to the table where the sergeant had sat, she picked up his glass and began to walk inside the tavern. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and remembered the two riders that followed that carriage. Victoria returned to the table, paying more attention to the riders than the invisible dirt she was cleaning.
She paused in amazement. One rider was a young woman, about seventeen, and the other a man who appeared to be about twenty-five. But what struck the innkeeper was their skin; it was so pale and white. The two riders, servants of Don Martinez, had brown hair of the same shade and their features were remarkably similar. They were both very travel weary. The man helped the girl from her horse, so that her skirts would not interfere with her dismount. The girl ran to the side of the carriage and opened the other door.
Out of the carriage stepped a strapping young man in a military uniform similar to the alcalde's. In an annoyed manner, the young soldier pushed the girl aside and strode toward the cuartel. Now exiting the carriage, was a beautiful woman, close to Victoria's age, dressed in a fine gown accented with Spanish lace. The servant girl regained her composure and began to assist the woman in brushing wrinkles out of her gown.
Victoria suddenly realized that she was staring. With a quick shake of her head, she retrieved Mendosa's glass and her washrag and walked into the tavern. As her eyes adjusted, she saw all of her usual patrons. The soldiers who were off-duty that day gathered in one corner and harassed the waitress, who playfully bantered back. A family sat at a center table sharing a meal. Several caballeros sat near the window and debated the cause of the rise in the price of feed. A few grisly-looking men stood at the bar and ordered heavy drinks.
At the table to Victoria's left sat Dons Alejandro and Diego de la Vega. They were in the thralls of their weekly chess game, and it seemed that, yet again, Diego was winning. Their servant Felipe, a deaf-mute, sat at the other side of the table, his chin propped on his elbow, looking incredibly bored. Felipe doodled with his finger in the condensation left from his drink on the table.
"So who's winning?" Victoria asked, refreshing their drinks.
"It's too early to tell," grumbled Alejandro.
"Whose carriage just arrived? Don Prisollo?" Diego asked.
"No! The alcalde's mejor amigo, Don Eduardo Martinez and his family," Victoria exclaimed. "I'm surprised you didn't know they were coming."
"The alcalde has amigos?" Alejandro muttered. "Aha! Beat that!" and he slammed down his bishop.
Diego slid his rook across the table. "Check mate," Diego said, and then turned to Victoria.
"The alcalde has had me prepare a huge banquet for tomorrow. Didn't he invite you?" asked Victoria, "I thought for sure he would ask all of the caballeros to be there."
"Perhaps it is a military gala; he certainly wouldn't invite Diego then," Alejandro volunteered.
"Father, you know how I feel about the military." Diego said.
"Yes, son, I—" Alejandro began.
"May I help you?" interrupted Victoria. The manservant from Don Martinez's caravan had just stepped inside, taking his hat off. The young man glanced around the room, taking in the family, the soldiers, the caballeros. Even in the dark tavern Victoria could see that his eyes were large and sparkling blue. His muscles were well developed from long hours of work. Again, Victoria marveled at how light his skin was—surely he was sick!
"May I help you?" Victoria said, a little louder this time.
"Ah, si, ah yoo Vi'toria Escaln'e?" he asked, slowly with a strange accent.
"Si, what can I do for you?"
"Seenyor Martinez wishes t' sec'ur a room fo' th' ni'."
"What?" Victoria asked.
"Eh, get uh room," the man repeated, crushing his hat nervously in his hands. He acknowledged the de la Vegas and Felipe with a curt bow. "Hola."
"Hola." The de la Vegas replied.
"Oh, si, the alcalde had me prepare them. Follow me." Victoria led the man upstairs to the rooms that she had set aside for the alcalde's guest. Diego and Alejandro looked at each other.
"Was he English?" Alejandro asked.
"Without a doubt, northern England I bet, maybe Scotland," answered Diego.
"Where does one hire an Englishman in California?"
"I seriously doubt that the man is here of his own free will," Diego said, as he collected the white chess pieces.
"What makes you say that? It is quite a life for a young man here in California!"
"If you're English? Really, Father, you surprise me sometimes."
"You suspect he's a slave then? Prisoner from Spain?"
"Probably. Though relations are improving between the monarchies, compliments of Bonaparte." Victoria and the Englishman walked down the stairs and towards the de la Vega table. The Englishman continued out the door, and Victoria stopped to speak with the caballeros.
"Did you see that?" she asked. "He's so pale. He must be deathly ill."
"No, Victoria," Diego laughed, "Gringos from England are naturally pale."
"I know that, but he was pale—even for a gringo. England; is that why he spoke so strangely? Most of the gringos who come through here are Americano."
"Si, that is why." Felipe sighed and switched elbows. Alejandro swatted at him lightly. "Sit up. Act smart." He said slowly and carefully, so that Felipe could read his lips. Felipe did as he was told.
The woman in the lace gown appeared in the doorway, the Englishman ahead of her carrying hatboxes and purses. She stopped and looked around her, with a look of disdain on her face.
"Matthew, my father said that we were staying… here?" she asked scornfully.
"Si, senorita." Matthew answered, not looking back at her for fear that he would drop the packages.
Felipe leaned on his elbow again watching the scene unfold. The woman huffed and picked up her skirts. "Well, don't just stand there, then." Senorita Martinez swooshed her way up the stairs, Matthew trailing behind.
"Well, I never," Victoria said, angrily.
"She sounds like a delightful person," Diego said sarcastically.
"Here, here," Alejandro said, raising his glass.
Another figure appeared in the doorway to the tavern. Dressed in an awful brown color with her long hair draped down her back, the servant girl walked into the room. Her face and clothes were streaked with dirt, though underneath it seemed that she was just as pale as the English slave. Her eyes were the same intense blue, yet her demeanor was one of grace and delicacy. Noticing the de la Vegas, the girl quickly curtsied to them and then continued to the stairs. Felipe was no longer interested in the table.
"Where's that girl?!" Senorita Martinez yelled from upstairs. Tearing down the stairs, she yelled, "Anna, come here!" Anna walked up the three steps and met her mistress on the landing.
"I told you I wanted a bath ready and clothes laid out. Where is it? Why isn't it ready? You lazy excuse for a servant. I want hot water in a bath upstairs now!" she fumed, furious with the situation. Anna looked confused. Slowly, she raised her right hand.
*I don't understand* she signed.
Felipe sat up straight in his chair. Diego saw his movement and smiled to himself. Alejandro was finishing packing up the chess set.
"Stupid girl!" Senorita Martinez shrieked, trying to control her volume. "I want HOT," the woman signed hot, "WATER!" she signed water. Anna returned the signs, turned meekly, and exited the room.
Felipe knocked his glass over. Alejandro and Diego jumped to their feet to avoid the flying beverage. Victoria quickly mopped it up with the rag. Felipe blushed a deep crimson, as he took the rag from Victoria and finished cleaning up the spill.
"I better go put more water on the fire," Victoria said, walking towards her kitchen.
"Let's go meet this Don Martinez," Alejandro said.
"Good idea," Diego answered, exiting the tavern with his father. He turned back with a grin, "Felipe, you can wait for us here."
Don Alejandro and Don Diego crossed the street together as the sun began to set. "I've never seen Felipe so flustered before. I wonder what was wrong?" Diego's father asked.
"I think he discovered that English girl."
"A girl?"
"Yes, didn't you see her?"
"I wasn't really paying all that much attention."
"She signs."
"Signs? Really? Is she deaf, too?"
"I don't know. She appears to be."
"Felipe and a girl. Huh. Who'd have ever thought?" Alejandro said as they walked into the alcalde's office.
The office was dark despite large windows looking out into the square. Diego always wondered if this was simply bad architecture or if it had something to do with the occupant.
De Soto and Martinez rose as the men entered the room. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" the alcalde asked.
"We wanted to welcome Senor Martinez to the pueblo. My name is Don Alejandro de la Vega and this is my son, Diego."
The men shook hands. "Gracias. I thank you for your kind welcome."
"Alcalde," Diego said, "Surely, you don't have all business planned for your guest. Come to our hacienda for dinner tonight."
"Actually, I—" the alcalde began.
"What he means to say, is that we, my family and I, are quite tired from our travels. We shall be retiring to the tavern for the evening. Tomorrow, however, the alcalde has graciously prepared a banquet in our honor. I and my son and daughter will be receiving friends and business acquaintances there. Won't you please join us?" he said smoothly and articulately. Almost rehearsed, thought Diego.
"A banquet at the tavern? Is there enough room?" Don Alejandro said.
De Soto cleared his throat. "What are you implying?"
"We would love to have the banquet at our hacienda. Invite everyone and have a huge fiesta! Let's welcome your amigo in style!" Alejandro said with gusto.
"Gracias, that would be wonderful." Martinez said, without a glance at De Soto, who has fuming in the half light.
"De nada," said Alejandro. "Hasta manana."
"Buenos noches."
The Dons left the building and returned across the plaza. "You are right," said Don Eduardo, "very suspicious. We must investigate them further. Much further."
Don Alejandro and Don Diego walked across the street in silence, both mulling over the conversation. "Very suspicious," thought Diego. "I must investigate them further."
Evening settled over the pueblo. Light and laughter spilled out into the street from Victoria's Tavern. Inside, lancers laughed and grappled with each other, workers forgot their troubles (only to remember them more vividly in the morning), and waitresses laughed and flirted with their customers in hopes of bigger tips. Upstairs, though, all was quiet. Don Eduardo had retired to his room for the night. His son, Roberto was carousing with the soldiers downstairs, so Matthew had retired to the stables to care for the horses and bed down for the night. In the last room on the left, Anna dressed Rosa Martinez's hair and helped her into bed.
*Lay out my clothes for tomorrow* Rosa signed. Anna walked to the wardrobe, opened the door with a creak, and perused the contents. The green frock was pretty, but so was the pink flounce. She ran her fingers along the fine materials: silk, satin, lace, velvet. With a glance at her own homemade broadcloth dress, Anna pulled out a maroon dress with black velvet accents.
"Si, that will do fine." Rosa did not sign, but Anna knew that the dress was approved because of the lack of anger in her tone. She laid the dress carefully on the chair next to the bed and turned to her mistress.
"Go!" Rosa said with a wave of her hand. Anna turned and left the room quietly. She closed the door behind her and released the knob carefully. With a deep breath and a sigh, she relaxed—the first time all day. The girl fled down the stairs and ran into the kitchen, nearly bumping into Victoria. Anna jumped back in surprise.
"Goodness!" exclaimed Victoria. Anna looked back at her in silence, her eyes wide.
*I'm sorry* She signed, hesitantly.
"Oh, it's okay," Victoria said, recognizing the sign, "Can I help you with anything? Did your mistress call for something?"
Anna understood nothing of it. She could only look back at the innkeeper and look at her feet.
Victoria thought for a moment. "Where are you sleeping, child?" she asked.
Anna shook her head, not understanding.
"Hmm." Victoria tried to remember what Felipe would sign. How she wished she had paid more attention to him! Well, what would make sense? "Where are you-" she pointed to the girl, "sleeping?" she placed her hands together like a pillow and leaned her head against them.
A flash of understanding passed over Anna's face. She pointed outside to the stables where Matthew waited for her.
"Oh, no! That will never do!" Victoria cried.
Anna stepped back from the sudden reaction. "The straw is too dirty for a girl to sleep in. Come here." She said, motioning to a corner of the kitchen.
Victoria pulled back a curtain to reveal a small cot and blankets. "I sleep here when all of the rooms are full. You sleep here tonight." Anna stared blankly back at her.
"Um. You," she pointed to Anna, "sleep," she folded her hands by her head, "here," she pointed to the bed. The English girl's eyes grew wide with surprise. As if she wanted to make sure she understood, she pointed hesitantly to herself and then to the bed. Just for good measure, she repeated the gesture.
"Yes, of course!" Victoria exclaimed with a smile. Anna smiled back, and then ran to the stables to tell Matthew.
