Capture The Night (41 page)

Kill him now
, Brazos told himself.
Why wait any longer
? He’s bluffing about a woman. Juanita’s back in Texas, and Maddie—well, Maddie had to be safe. Desseau protected her. She’s his daughter; he wouldn’t allow her to be harmed.

Brazos didn’t want to see what was inside the box.

I’ll hit him in the nose
, he thought.
Shove it up under his eyebrows. That’ll kill a man if you do it right.

He had to see what was in that box.

Salezan stretched out his arm and offered Brazos the gift. “You did enjoy your steak, didn’t you? I had it specially prepared. My father’s recipe, you know. Remember us talking about my father? About the Karankawa?”

Brazos went for him. With his left hand, he slapped away the box. He slammed the heel of his right, palm flat, toward Salezan’s face, intending to catch the bastard’s nose and drive it up into his brain. But the derringer went off, catching Brazos in the shoulder and his blow succeeded only in bloodying his enemy’s nose.

“
Pinche cabron
,” Salezan cursed as Brazos came at him again, losing blood and quickly growing weak. They struggled for the gun, and with a last surge of effort, Brazos wrenched it from the governor’s hand. Breathing heavily, he backed away and took aim for Salezan’s head.

“Look,” Salezan shouted, kicking the box at his feet.

In his weakened state, Brazos looked for just an instant. But an instant was all that it took. A long coil of gold spilled from the box. A braid. Madeline’s braid. Brazos remembered. Brazos died. The Beast roared to life.

“Ah,
bestia
,” Salezan said, panting for breath. “My favorite has returned.”

THE SOUND of chains dragging across the stone floor intruded upon Madeline’s sleep. Not opening her eyes, she tugged the threadbare blanket up over her head and burrowed into the minimal comfort of her thin, lumpy mattress. Her papa was pacing again. The man worried entirely too much. He simply wouldn’t accept her assurances that all would be well.

Of course, she’d feel better about it herself if her luck in finding the entrance to Salezan’s secret dungeon would improve. The governor had played right into her talented hands when he’d incarcerated them in a remote, seldom utilized section of the prison. No one was around to see her pick the lock on her cell door using the hat pin she always carried in her petticoat.

One other person shared their wing of the prison, Brazos’s friend Father Miguel Alcortez. After so many years as Damasso Salezan’s guest, the priest was able to provide Madeline with all sorts of details concerning prison life. He knew when the guards were likely to pay a visit, and from whom she could steal clothing for an effective disguise. The one thing he didn’t know, however, was where Brazos was being held. That a dungeon called The Hole existed at Perote was common knowledge, but its exact location was an ugly secret.

“I spent a couple of months in The Hole, Madeline,” Father Miguel had said. “But I’m afraid I was unconscious both upon entering and when leaving. All I remember is a sliding panel—a secret door—that led to a staircase that winds down into total darkness.” Madeline had begun an immediate and clandestine search for that hidden doorway and her husband. So far her efforts had been fruitless.

The hazy sunlight of dawn filtered through the single, rectangular window carved in the stone high on the outside wall. In the distance, a cock crowed, while from the parade ground came the sounds of soldiers gathering for the morning review. Madeline stifled a groan as she sat up. As soon as they were all safe, she swore, she’d find a soft bed and sleep for a week. These nighttime excursions were beginning to wear on her body. Almost as much as they appeared to be wearing on her father’s mind.

The poor man continued to pace. Madeline slipped her feet into her shoes and walked to the door. She peeked into the dark hallway, then listened for sounds. Nothing. Each day, breakfast—or the watery gruel that served as such—was offered to the three prisoners in the isolated wing of Perote after the general population had eaten. Barring an unexpected change in routine, Madeline knew she had a good two hours before a guard would appear nearby.

So she picked the lock on her cell door and visited her worried father. At the sight of her outside his door, Julian lifted his eyes to heaven and said, “I’ll die of heart failure if she continues this way.” The first time she’d popped over, after he’d recovered from the shock of learning that his eldest daughter knew how to pick a lock, Julian had tried to convince her to escape immediately, without even attempting to free Brazos. He hadn’t listened to her then, and he wasn’t listening to her now.

“Please, Madeline,” Julian begged, waving away her assurances that all would be well. “Save yourself. The man sacrificed himself for you. Don’t allow it all to go for naught.”

By now, the argument was tired. “Sir,” she said sharply, “you dishonor me with such talk. Yes, my husband put his life at risk in an attempt to rescue me. But am I less of a woman than he is a man? Brazos has never once claimed love for me, and still he faced his own worst fears by returning here for my sake.” She braced her hands on her hips and continued, “I, on the other hand, have declared my love for him—shouted it to anyone who would listen. What kind of a person would I be if I just walked away and left him?”

“You’d be a
living
person!” Julian replied, throwing his arms wide. “Madeline, your reasoning is faulty. For goodness’ sake, you’re only a woman!”

She almost hit him then. “Only a woman? Only a woman!” She inhaled a deep, calming breath, then said, “The thought crosses my mind that it may have been a good thing for both of us that I did not grow up under your control.” Throwing him a frustrated glare, she returned to her cell.

Gentle laugher spilled from the room across the narrow hallway. “Ah, Madeline, you do so liven up this old jail,” Father Miguel said. “In my solitude over these past years, I’ve forgotten just how entertaining people can be.”

“Hush, Father Miguel,” Madeline said, retreating to her cot. “Any more from either one of you, and I’m liable to leave you both behind when Brazos and I escape.”

The priest was still chuckling, Julian fuming, and Madeline sulking when Joseph arrived with breakfast. Madeline took one look at the contents of the bowl and said in a rueful voice, “You know, Joseph, I find I enjoyed the soufflé you served me a couple of weeks ago more enjoyable.”

Salezan’s butler sniffed, “Now, Madame Sinclair, I would not complain were I you. This is much better than your poor husband is receiving these days.”

“Brazos, you’ve seen Brazos?” Madeline asked, clutching his sleeve. “How is he? He
is
alive, right? He’s well?”

Joseph winced and backed away a step, looking everywhere but at her face. “I spoke out of turn. I am sorry. It’s just that he’s so…he can’t…” Joseph pursed his lips into a frown and said, “He is not the same man you have known.” With that, he beat a hasty retreat from her room. He failed to speak at all to Julian, but when he opened Miguel’s cell, he brought both food and a basin of steaming water. Watching through the window in her door, Madeline saw Miguel’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “What is this?” he asked.

Frowning, Joseph showed him a bar of soap and a towel. “The governor will see you in an hour. You would prefer to be clean, I am certain.”

“Why does he want to see me?” Miguel asked.

Madeline’s hands gripped the two iron bars in the window of her cell door and said fearfully, “The armband.”

Joseph nodded. “I’ll see that a clean cassock is sent for you, Padre,” he said as he closed and locked the door. His steps rang hollowly down the long hallway.

Madeline’s thoughts whirled. Brazos
was
still alive! But Miguel wouldn’t be alive for long; Salezan was in possession of the armband. Brazos was in some sort of trouble. What had Joseph meant
not the same man
? “I must find that entrance,” she declared. “Today. Now! I haven’t mentioned this before, Father Miguel, but when I was here the first time, Joseph told me something. He said that as soon as—”

“As soon as Salezan recovered the armband, he’d kill me. This is not news, my dear. He has told me the same thing almost daily since Brazos escaped.”

“But why? I don’t understand? What is so special about a piece of silver jewelry?”

“Ah, Madeline,” the padre said with a smile in his voice, “it is more—much more than jewelry. The band is one hundred fifty years old, and I found it buried in a box of old church records. It is a map to riches beyond your wildest imaginings.”

“A map?”

“For one familiar with both the area of Texas in question and the symbols and teachings of the Catholic church, the engravings show the way to the El Regalo de Dios.”

“Silver,” Madeline said, thinking back to her time in Salezan’s home, where silver objects adorned every room. “But he already has so much of it. Maybe he already knows about the mine.”

“Mm,” Miguel said reverently. The sound of water splashing spread across the narrow hallway as he added, “I’d forgotten what a pleasure hot water can be. No, Madeline. The secret of El Regalo de Dios has been lost for over one hundred years. Your husband and I had just begun to explore the puzzle when we were captured and brought to Perote.”

Madeline told him, “I’ve seen the silver—a portion of it, anyway. Brazos told me a bit of the story.” She heard the sound of rustling cloth as the priest continued speaking.

“Using the papers I had discovered, Brazos and I were able to find a cache of buried silver bars—a small portion of the wealth that had been prepared for transfer to Mexico. When the Franciscans began battling with the Jesuits, they hid all evidence of the mine. They didn’t want to lose control to the more powerful order you see. Before any more was done, the Lipan-Apaches attacked, and the secret of the mine was lost.”

“Until you discovered it.”

“Yes.”

Julian, listening to the conversation at his own cell door said, “But I don’t understand. I was of the opinion that you and Sinclair were friends. If he had the map all this time, why didn’t he use it to bargain for your freedom?”

“Brazos doesn’t know the band holds the key. The church documents showed us the way to the cache. Only after I was interred here in these pleasant surroundings did I, for lack of anything better to do, study the etchings and put the facts together. Salezan overheard my musings and took the armband. But he was unable to decipher the designs. He moved me into a separate area of the dungeon and went to work on forcing the information from my lips. He was close to succeeding when Brazos escaped and for some reason—I believe a message from God—took the armband with him. It’s what’s kept me alive these past years.”

Julian asked, “Why did he leave you behind? That doesn’t appear to be the act of a friend.”

“Brazos thinks you are dead,” Madeline said immediately, bristling at her father for daring to think poorly of Brazos. “He doesn’t speak of it, but his brother told me. Tyler believes that it was your death that made Brazos so…so…well, he suffers.” She smiled and added, “I can’t wait for him to see that you are alive.”

“Which brings us back to the beginning of this discussion. The armband is back at Perote. And I’m afraid, my friends, that my tolerance for torture has never approached Brazos’s talents in that regard. I fear I shall not keep the armband’s secret for very long.”

“Then we shall escape today,” Madeline declared. “No more tiptoeing around; we’ll find Brazos somehow. Papa, how are your eyes? Will you be able to travel?”

“The swelling has receded; I am much improved. I’ll help you search for Sinclair today.”

“Good. I’d still like to find a way to make Poteet pay for hurting you.” Madeline pursed her lips and said, “We must develop a plan. Father Miguel, how do you suppose Salezan will attempt to gain your information?”

The priest approached the window on his cell door. “Promise me, Madeline, that after the escape, you will scheme me up a hot spring in which to bathe.” He hung his damp towel through the bars of the window and sent her a wistful look.

She smiled and said, “I promise.”

“I think that the governor will offer me freedom in exchange for information. Freedom he has no intention of allowing me.”

“Will he put you in The Hole with Brazos?”

Father Miguel lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know. He’s done it before. The man derives a sick pleasure from torture, especially while another prisoner observes. Salezan is an animal.” Frowning, Father Miguel tapped his mouth with his index finger. After a moment, he said, “I believe I could convince him to take me to his library at the manor house. I could say I required a book—the Bible, perhaps—to correctly interpret the message on the armband.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Madeline exclaimed. “I already know an easy way out of the manor house. Now, next we must—” She broke off as the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway reached her ears.

It was Joseph. He carried a priest’s robe over his arms. Unlocking Father Miguel’s cell, he handed over the cassock and lifted the basin of water. “I’ll take this down to the
bestia
,” he said, “and then I’ll be back for you, Padre. The governor is anxious to begin.”

“I imagine so,” Miguel said wryly.

Madeline scowled. Something Joseph said bothered her but she couldn’t quite figure out what. She shrugged and turned her attention toward her search. As soon as Father Miguel left with Joseph, she’d release her father and then they could begin to explore. She’d send Julian to the south tower; she’d not examined it yet. She’d head toward the west wall and—

She froze. Not the same man you have known, Joseph had said. She remembered Brazos in the
Uriel’s
hold. The
bestia
. Joseph was taking the dirty water to the
bestia
. “It’s him!” She rushed to her door and quickly picked the lock.

“Madeline?” Julian asked.

“Joseph, he knows,” she said in a rush. “He’s going to Brazos now. I have to follow Joseph. When he comes back, make sure he doesn’t look in my cell.”