Lone Star 03 (20 page)

Shrugging, he went to the bed and tested it with his hand. Then he stretched out and gazed at the ceiling, his expression unperturbed, but his mind working at top speed. He had arrived at no plan of action before the door swung open and Lita came in, followed by the servant carrying Ki's equipment.

Before she spoke to Ki, Lita told the house servant,
“Pone el equipaje ahí, y vuelve a lacasa.”
She waited until the man had placed Ki's saddlebags and rifle in the corner she'd indicated and left the room before she said, “Ki, I'm sorry Father's insulted you this way! I shouldn't have let him!”

Ki sat up. “You didn't know what he was going to do, Lita. And I can only be insulted if I allow myself to be.”

“I've explained everything to him,” she said. “That you aren't Jessie's servant, but the manager of her ranch. He said he didn't intend to insult you, though I'm not sure about that.”

“I'll be very comfortable here,” Ki said. He didn't add that he'd also have more freedom to move about and ask questions than he would in the house, where her father could keep an eye on him.

“Just the same, it was not a hospitable thing for Father to do, and I've convinced him he was wrong. I'll have your things carried to the house during dinner. Here on the ranch we eat early, usually about sundown.”

“Lita,” Ki said, choosing his words carefully, “I want to stay where I am. But if I do that, your father will be the one who's insulted. Don't you see? By inviting me to move to the house, he's trying to apologize. If I stay here, I'll be rejecting his apology.”

Lita thought for a moment, then smiled. “Your mind's more subtle than mine, Ki. Father will be furious, and it will serve him right!”

“Besides,” Ki told her, “I'll be very comfortable here.”

“As comfortable as you would be in the
hacienda,
I suppose,” she agreed. “It's where the
toreros
stay during the season when they test the bulls. You saw the small bullring next to this building. It is not as big as the ones where the
corridas
are held, but is exactly like them in other ways.”

“I'm not really very particular,” Ki said. “As long as I have a place to wash—”

“I'll send Manuel back with water and towels,” Lita said. “And he'll show you where the dining room is when dinner's ready. It'll be just a little while.”

 

 

To Ki's surprise, dinner went off very well. Though Don Almendaro was stiff at the beginning of the meal, the thin-bodied red wine served mellowed him a bit, and by accident Ki had opened their conversation by asking his involuntary host a question about the fighting bulls bred on the Mendoza ranch. Though he'd picked the subject primarily to keep the table talk from a discussion of himself and Jessie, it was perhaps the only topic that would have caused the stiff-necked Mendoza to talk freely.

“We call our bulls
toros bravos,”
Don Almendaro explained. “And they are not of the stock that produces animals slaughtered for food. They are as untamed as a wild beast, their horns as hard as ivory, with tips as sharp as needles. Their muscles are like bands of steel, and their hearts as stout as a lion's.”

“But how do you train them to fight?” Ki asked.

“They need no training. Their instinct is to fight. Their only training is done by the
toreros
in the bullring, from the beginning of the
corrida
until it ends with the bull's death.”

“I understand your daughter to say that you trained the bulls,” Ki said.

“No, no. I am sure Adelita said nothing of training. She would have told you we
test
the bulls,” Don Almendaro said.

“Yes, Father. That is what I said. Ki must have misunderstood,” Lita put in, her voice artificially meek.

Before Ki could ask the question he was forming, Don Almendaro went on, “We test our bulls for courage only. They must charge without hesitating when they see a man with a
muleta,
a small cape like a flag, moving in front of them.”

“What happens if they don't charge him?” Ki asked.

“They are slaughtered for beef at once,” Mendoza said promptly. “You must understand that bulls of the
corrida
can only inherit their character, their courage. Here I have two bloodlines, Las Astas and Tierra Buena. Both have been bred in Spain for many centuries, and in their breeding, care has been taken to choose only the finest bulls for sires. My bulls move with the speed and agility of a deer, but have the strength and stamina of their own kind.”

“I know very little of your sport—” Ki began.

Mendoza interrupted him. “No! A
corrida
is not sport, not a game! It is a test of skill, like a duel between two swordsmen of equal ability. It is a measuring of the instinct of ferocity bred in the bull, and of the bull's courage against the torero, who has not the bull's great strength, but pits his skill and courage against the animal's.”

“An exhibition instead of a game, then?” Ki suggested.

“Perhaps. If the bull learns quickly, it can sometimes keep the
matador
from plunging his sword through its huge shoulder muscles and a tiny gap in the bones, no larger around than a teacup, through which the sword must pass to pierce its heart.”

“And the bull has no other point where it's vulnerable?”

“No. There is no man living who can kill one of our bulls as long as it holds its head high. The muscles of its shoulders must be weakened by the
picador‘
s spear and by the weighted darts the
banderillero
plants in the muscles.”

“Really?” Ki asked, his interest aroused for the first time. “Not one other vulnerable point, you say?”

“Perhaps I overstated,” Don Almendaro replied. “If the bull should by some accident be cowardly, a
peón
butchers it with a short, stiff knife thrust into the spine at the base of its skull, to sever the spinal cord. But that does not happen often, not to bulls of the kind we breed here.”

Ki grunted thoughtfully. “In my land we have the art of te, which means ‘hand.' Those who have the skill can very easily disable or kill a man using no weapons at all.”

“I told you how Ki defeated eight or ten
rurales
who had guns, and he used no weapons but his little staff and his hands,” Lita put in.

“A man is not one of our brave bulls, Adelita,” Don Almendaro said reprovingly. He turned back to Ki and said,

“No man without weapons could ever stand against one of our Tierra Buena or Las Astas bulls. To think he could is foolish!”

“Perhaps so,” Ki nodded. “But it would be interesting, philosophically, of course, to see
te
used on your bulls.”

“This is a thing you will never see, I'm sure,” Don Almendaro said brusquely. “It would not be permitted.”

“I suppose not,” Ki agreed, “since the rules of your exhibition are so narrow. Just the same, it would be interesting.”

“You might find it so,” Mendoza said curtly. He refilled his wineglass and stood up. “Now I wish to speak with you of something else. We will go into my office and leave the ladies to gossip. What I wish to discuss, I prefer to keep between the two of us, for the moment, at least.”

Not sure quite what to expect, Ki followed Don Almendaro out of the dining room. He glanced over his shoulder as he went through the door. Jessie was watching him, her face composed except for small worry-lines at the corners of her eyes, and the message she was sending was as clear as though she were speaking:

Chapter 14

Don Almendaro's office was a large room, furnished spar tanly with four chairs, a large desk, and a tall walnut ar moire. Its only decorations were a shield bearing what Ki supposed was the Mendoza family escutcheon on one wall, and a pair of basket-hilted rapiers crossed on another. The
hacendado
settled into the high-backed armchair behind the desk. He did not invite Ki to take one of the other chairs, but Ki did so, uninvited.

“I will come to the point at once,” Mendoza said. “Adelita has told me that you believe Guzman will bring his
rurales
here to attack my ranch. I must assure you that you are mistaken. He would not dare to make such a move.”

“You must have a good reason for thinking that, Don Almendaro,” Ki replied. “I can't see why he'd hesitate. Obviously, Guzman thinks he has the power to do what he wants to do, as long as he has his men to back him up.”

Before the rancher could reply, there was a knock at the door. Mendoza called,
“Entrese!”

Ki recognized the man who entered as Eusebio, the
mayordomo
or manager of the household. He carried a folded paper. He said,
“Es mesaje deSanPedro.”

Don Almendaro extended his hand, and Eusebio gave him the paper and left the room. Without apologizing to Ki, the
hacendado
unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly. His expression did not change as he read the message, nor as he refolded it, put it aside, and returned his attention to Ki.

“Suppose you are right,” he asked. “Let us say that Guzman risks attacking the Rancho Mendoza. Adelita has told me that you wounded him with your cane or staff. How seriously did you injure him?”

Ki thought of the
bo
thrusts he'd driven into Guzman's groin and testicles. “Seriously enough to keep him from riding horseback for several days.”

“If that is the case, I will not worry about posting a lookout tonight to warn us of an attack.”

“There's one possibility,” Ki said. “If Guzman decides to send some of his men without leading them himself—”

Mendoza shook his head decisively. “No. Guzman would not do that. He must lead them himself, to show he is still able to command. It is that threat which allows him to terrorize San Pedro with so few men under him.”

“You seem to be very well acquainted with Guzman, Don Almendaro.”

“Lita has probably told you that I deal with him in some small matters. Guards for special shipments of bulls to their buyers, things of that sort. It is wise to be on good terms with the
rurales.
There are still armed bandits roaming Mexico, you understand, and it is to the
rurales
that we look for protection against them.”

“But if Guzman should attack, you have enough men and guns to defend your ranch?” Ki asked.

“Of course. I will lead my loyal men against anyone who threatens the Rancho Mendoza.”

Ki decided it was time to offer a gambit. He said, “You haven't asked me, Don Almendaro, but Miss Starbuck and I will be here only tonight and tomorrow. I'm sure your daughter has told you that we came to Mexico in search of cattle thieves, and we think we know now where their headquarters are located.”

Ki's remark did not seem to upset Mendoza. He nodded as though he had little interest, and stood up, saying, “I will not keep you longer, then. Goodnight.”

It was only as Ki was walking back down the hall to the dining room that he realized Mendoza had not addressed him by name at any time during their conversation.

Reaching the dining room, he found the double doors closed. He opened one and peered inside; the table had been cleared and Jessie and Lita were gone. Ki shrugged. Jessie would find her own way to see and talk with him later, he was sure. He returned to his quarters and, without undressing, anticipating Jessie's visit, he stretched out on the bed and mentally juggled plans and possibilities until he dozed. A shift in the balance of the bed woke him and he opened his eyes to see Lita sitting beside him. She wore the same flowing nightdress that she'd had on the previous night.

“Lita!” Li exclaimed. Then, knowing the answer before he spoke, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Jessie asked me to tell you that she will be walking in front of the
hacienda
just after sunrise tomorrow.”

“Why didn't she come herself?”

“Because we decided it would be unwise for both of us to be away from the house at the same time.” Lita ran her hand from Ki's cheek down his chest, and stopped at his crotch. “And I am still waiting for the
velada
we did not have this morning.”

“You thought it was unwise for both you and Jessie to be away at once, but not unwise to leave her alone and come here?”

“Jessie and I understand one another, Ki.” Lita's fingers were busy with the buttons of Ki's fly. “I am no longer jealous of her. Tonight I will enjoy even more feeling you grow hard.”

She pulled Ki's trousers down, and stroked him with soft fingers. Ki reached up to caress her breasts, and Lita shrugged the nightgown off her shoulders to bare them to his hands. She was bending forward to take his shaft in her mouth when the door of the room burst open. Don Almendaro strode in, a revolver in his hand. Behind him came two men whom Ki had not seen before. They both carried shotguns. Before Ki could move, all three weapons were leveled at the bed.