Read Online The Empire of Yearning by Oakland Ross - Free Book Online

didn’t you mention this place? I thought I gave you a commission.”
    The Austrian glanced back at Diego and touched the fingers of one hand to the brim of his top hat in a kind of salute. Then he and his companions set off on foot, strolling away from the Zócalo. Soon, they disappeared from view.
    Diego watched until the imperial party had dwindled from sight. He felt strangely exhilarated—euphoric almost. Who knew if he had succeeded in persuading this unexpectedly affable man—and, if so, to do what? It didn’t seem to matter. He felt restored. In his chest, he sensed an unfamiliar lightness. He’d met the emperor in the flesh. Just why that should please him, he did not know. He replaced his hat and set off in the direction of the Zócalo.
    Two days later, a letter arrived at his lodgings near La Ciudadela. The document was embossed with the imperial coat of arms, bearing the motto
Equidad en justicia.
It was affixed with a ribbon and sealed with the letters
MIM
in scarlet wax. In the very first sentence, the Austrian announced that, in the names of Mexico and the Almighty God, he had decided to grant Diego’s appeal. Baldemar Peralta would be freed.
    Diego let out a whoop and hopped around the room, nearly tripping against the leg of a chair. He managed to regain his balance and immediately returned his attention to the Austrian’s letter. He read the rest of what was written there—a command for the recipient to present himself at the emperor’s temporary chambers in the National Palace three days hence.
    What on earth was this? Diego poured a tumbler of brandy and carried it to a casement window. He perched upon the broad sill and read the letter through again. For Baldemar—freedom. For himself—an audience with the Austrian. He sipped his drink. Was this what lay in store for Mexico under imperial rule? Not the catastrophe he had imaginedbut instead something like an improvement? Granted, almost anything would be an advance on what had prevailed till now. Since gaining independence four decades earlier, Mexico had been ruled by a succession of vain and swaggering men who governed for their own amusement and enrichment. The country had been vastly diminished as a result, deprived of half its former territory, mired in poverty, and burdened by unpayable debts. Diego swallowed a mouthful of brandy and thought of Antonio López de Santa Anna, an infamous megalomaniac who had ruled as Mexico’s president on eleven separate occasions, embroiling himself in one disaster after another. He had sold Arizona to the gringos in order to bankroll his army. Might not the Austrian do better? Was it possible he could do worse?
    Diego didn’t know. All he knew was that he had been commanded to present himself before this European archduke three days hence—and he intended to do so. He penned a reply and dispatched it by courier. That done, he sent word to the stable for his horse to be saddled. Soon, he was riding in the direction of Ángela’s house and, this time, he had good news to tell.

C HAPTER 9
    D IEGO’S HAT SLIPPED FROM his hand and tumbled to the floor. He slumped into a sofa in the main salon. He felt as if someone had just punched him in the chest. Hard. What was this? This was madness. Even as he tried to absorb Ángela’s astonishing news, it occurred to him that he smelled cigar smoke in the room, which seemed strange. But Ángela’s news was even stranger. Diego closed his eyes and shook his head. He opened his eyes again.
    “He does
what
?” he said.
    “He refuses to be pardoned.”
    It was the sort of thing you needed to hear at least twice before you believed it. Even then, it was a challenge.
    Ángela balanced herself on the edge of the wooden settee. She told him she had only just received the news, a half hour ago, maybe less. It was Achille Bazaine who’d told her.
    “Bazaine in person?”
    “Well … yes.”
    “He came here?”
    “He would have to, wouldn’t he? To give me the