“And how was that?” Zander asked.
“There is a small system of tunnels beneath the Sanz estate,” Cristian answered. “They were originally built so servants could move about the estate without being seen. At some point, one of the tunnels was lengthened so that it led beyond the house. The tunnels were no longer used by the time Ignacio was born, and he never knew about them. But the kitchen staff used to use them to sneak out to the storehouses and smoke cogollo.”
“Cristian told me everything he knew,” Hugo said. “I couldn’t go home then. But I couldn’t stay under Ignacio’s roof either. So, Cristian offered to let me stay here, in the house he’d bought.”
“I retired weeks later,” Cristian said. “Together, Hugo and I sorted through the rubble of the Vidals’ home, salvaging what we could. Then we worked on keeping the Vidal estate and all of its businesses out of Ignacio’s hands.”
Hugo exhaled sharply, his face contorting with frustration.
“I beseeched anyone with power I could find, trying to convince them Ignacio had no claim to the estate of a wife who’d abandoned him the night of their wedding. But Ignacio paraded witness after witness to the court who’d attended the wedding, each of them claiming to have knowledge the marriage was consummated.”
“I suspect he also bribed the officials,” Cristian said.
“In either case, we weren’t successful. Ignacio inherited Nicolas’s vineyards, his tobacco trade, and his land. And I never saw Ace again.” Hugo was silent for a moment, sullen. Then he looked to Cristian, and the two smiled tenderly at each other. “Cristian has soothed my aching heart all this time. But it has been difficult, living here in the shadow of Ignacio’s victory.”
Cristian nodded. “Ignacio’s hunger for power and riches has only grown. We are able to live quiet lives here in Almogia, unbothered by him. Despite being so close to the Sanz estate, Ignacio has no reason to spend time here. But word of his activities circulates all the same. And word is, Ignacio’s obsession with the Vidal legacy has spread beyond Spain.”
“That’s what I was coming here to tell you,” Yarrow said, looking at Theo. “Ignacio abandoned the tobacco trade shortly after Chandace and Nicolas’s deaths. He’s become a privateer, and he and his crew—the crew that boarded the Valerian—have been roaming the Mediterranean for years, terrorizing ships, even ransacking villages. He’s becoming a fucking pirate.”
Theo slapped his hands against his knees, suddenly outraged. “Of course, he had to go and copy Ace!” he yelled. “What a fucking fake, playing pirate with his fancy little crew.” He sat back in his chair roughly, angrily folding his arms. “Fucking privateer,” he muttered.
“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of his activities, given your current line of work,” Hugo said, raising his eyebrow at the three of them.
“We never sailed the Mediterranean as a rule,” Yarrow said. “We stayed in the Caribbean most of the year, and we stuck to the West side of Gibraltar when we came this way. Ace always feared he’d find her somehow.”
“And now he has,” Cristian said, sitting up straighter. “And I’m going to tell you how to get her out.”
20
Zander, Theo, and Yarrow were silent as they rode across the limestone valley toward Antequera. Even the horses seemed quieter than usual, as if they knew they carried their riders into the mouth of a beast.
The three pirates were armed to the teeth, having procured more supplies in Almogia before leaving. Each of Zander’s boots hid a dagger, and in addition to Ace’s ivory cutlass, a loaded pistol hung from his belt.
Zander reflected on everything Cristian told them as he passed beneath the shadows of the large limestone formations that surrounded them.
“Ignacio is not just playing at being a pirate,” he’d said. “He’s sought out professionals, and he’s paid them well to help him achieve his fool’s dream. He’s squandered enormous amounts of resources—resources I helped build when his father was alive—in pursuit of Aracely and whatever treasure he believes she’ll lead him to. The men he’s hired—former pirates, mercenaries, and soldiers—have a reputation for being cruel and reckless.”
“Reckless is good,” Yarrow had said. “Reckless people are easy to beat. Reckless people never see people like me coming.”
Zander looked up to see an Ibex standing on the ridge of one of the rock formations. The limestone beneath the creature’s hooves puddled in large, flat wafers that piled on top of one another in columns, each pillar connecting at the bottom. Lone columns dotted the landscape as well, tall and proud, looking out over the valley like ancient guardians.
Dusk settled in and Zander watched the sky turn shades of pink and purple, a stunning backdrop against the dramatic stone figures that dotted the landscape.
Yarrow brought their horse up short, and Zander and Theo flanked them. They lifted their hand, pointing at the ridge ahead of them like the grim reaper staking its claim.
“The Sanz estate is just over that ridge,” they said quietly. “We’ll leave the horses tied here and approach on foot. We’ll observe as long as there’s light.” They squinted upward, as if ascertaining how much time they had left. “We passed a semicircle of stones a while ago, barring any view from the north. That would be a good place to make camp and wait for the deep night.”
Wordlessly, the three dismounted their stolen horses and attached the leads to a nearby tree. Then they walked.
It took twenty minutes to reach the ridge and scale it. They dropped to their hands and knees near the top, inching forward until the Sanz estate loomed before them, a sleeping giant nestled in the sprawling valley beyond.
The bone-white building that housed Ignacio and his stolen bride was constructed in a large central circle that was two stories high. Single-story wings lay to the west, east, and north, rectangular appendages jutting from the circular center. The north wing led to a large open square dotted with palms, and the main road leading in. From their position, Zander could see signs of a garden in the circular open courtyard in the center of the house. Just as Yarrow said, stables lay to the northeast of the building, and storehouses to the west, with acres of vineyards stretching into the distance beyond.
In the front square, a fire burned, and eight uniformed men stood or sat around it, drinking and laughing.
“Ignacio’s privateers,” Yarrow whispered.
“Fake pirates,” Theo corrected them under his breath.
“Why would he bring any of them here?” Yarrow wondered. “Why not leave them on board the ship, or put them up in Malaga? They’re ruining his lawn.” There was a touch of humor in Yarrow’s voice.
Zander scanned the grounds. “I don’t see any other guards,” he said. “Could he be using his new crew as a replacement for them?”
Theo nodded slowly, his eyes darting back and forth. “Aye,” he said. “It’s possible. If Cristian is right and he’s been hiring mercenaries, he may have run through his resources faster than he anticipated.”
“I imagine he thought he’d find Ace and the Vidals’ mythical treasure much sooner,” Yarrow said. “No matter. It appears as if he’s left the rest of them aboard the ship. I’ll take a dozen fake pirates over well-trained guards any day.” They winked at Theo, and he smiled back at them.
Just as Cristian told them, two entrances marked the south side of the building, each attached to the narrow junctions between the central structure and its opposite wings. The one on the right led to the kitchens in the east wing. It was well-used. As they watched, half a dozen people walked in and out, tossing scraps into a compost pile or emptying pails of water. The one on the left led to the west wing.
“The west wing is deserted,” Cristian had told them. “Ignacio’s father used to stay there. I’ve never seen him step foot inside it.”
That’s where they would enter.
“Ignacio is a creature of habit,” Cristian had continued. “Just as he kept the west wing preserved, he kept Aracely’s room untouched. The bed has not even been made since the last time he kept her there. It’s a monument to his failure. That is where he will keep her again. She will be on the top floor in the central part of the building. The door faces southeast. Two doors down, facing southwest, is Ignacio’s room.”
As they lay there looking at the estate, Zander’s eyes kept wandering to a particular window on the top floor, the curtains drawn. He knew it was her window, because it was the only one with bars.
The plan was to lead the horses to where the tunnel let out, hidden behind a copse of trees near the storehouses. After the horses were secured, the three pirates would split up. Yarrow would head to the stables, where they would release the animals inside and use one of the remaining grenadiers to create a fiery distraction. The second bomb was a backup, in case things went wrong.
