Phoenix

PHOENIX

Catagory/Rating: Backstory G
Disclaimer: The character of Luis Montoya was originated and is owned by Fireworks Entertainment. The rest of the characters and situations in this story are copyrighted by me.
Series: Part of the Empress AU, a companion piece to Antonia's Journal
Summary: Montoya's thoughts as he leaves Spain.
Note: This was written in November 2000 and has been recently revised. (July 2001)

At almost 29 years old, Luis had already reached the height of his career and then fallen. He could not even say spectacularly, just a setting aside into obscurity. Then the letter had arrived, one week after the calendar turned to 1808. The hope of a new life, a new Luis -- Colonel Luis Ramirez Montoya.

Six weeks later he took the letter out again as he paced the deck of the ship which was ready to set sail out of Cadiz. Regional military commander reporting directly to the governor. He had consulted the most recent map he could find of Alta California and had found Santa Elena. A little dot in the middle of nothing. That could be a good thing; he would be the law, the power in the area. The governor was days distant in Monterey, and Spain was on the other side of the world. He could be who he wanted to be. Who Luis wanted to be, was a gentleman.

He had been living on the edge of that society for his whole life. His mother had a minor title but had made an unfortunate choice in a husband, for his father had nothing in the way of rank to pass on to his son. The man also had little in the way of time for a boy who felt a need to question and push at boundaries. An impatient, "That's just the way it is, Luis," was the most profound piece of advice that had been bestowed on him. His mother had wanted the best for him, but unfortunately all that his expensive education had given him was a look into a world where he knew that he would always be just an observer.

It was someone else who had wanted the best for him that brought him back into contact with noble society. For a time Luis had rejected his station completely, hoping the army would be a place where his abilities would not be overshadowed by his low birth, but as General Galvez's captain of the guard he had been expected to attend any social function taking place on the estate. He knew he was only being tolerated as long as he maintained his place as the general's assistant. He would never be accepted on his own merits, for every time he tried to step across that imaginary line the whispers of "social climber" and "upstart" would resound in his ears.

It was during that time though, that his ideas about how the world was ordered were shattered. Juan Sanchez Reyes had ignored rules, brushed them aside with the consideration of a cobweb. Luis had been so entranced by the brashness, and flattered by the acceptance that he was being given by this influential man that he chose to ignore the disaster looming before him. He had been warned about how it would end. He should have followed his heart, he should have listened to Antonia. She may not have accepted his love, but she had been the one person who understood. He had let his pride and his passion override his common sense.

The activity on the ship was increasing, and Luis moved aft to the quarter deck to be out of the way. The steadying anchor was being lifted. He had never considered himself a deeply religious man, but the habits of a lifetime overtook him at this moment and he said a small prayer of thanks and safekeeping. Maybe that is what this voyage was -- an answered prayer. He had done his penance for his lack of foresight and was being given a chance to try again. God had not made the recommendation for this position but He may have inspired the person who had.

Luis had been unsuccessful in finding his benefactor in the short time before sailing. Although it was an impossibility, General Galvez had been his first thought. The man had always been supportive. Even in the reassignment to the regular regiment in Barcelona he had shown mercy, for Luis had retained his rank. They spoke little during his last month on the estate, about the events that led to that disciplinary action, and the general's death before the turn of the year had precluded the possibility of that conversation. The general had, however, written him a number of times during that last year. Luis had the letters still.

Without discipline there is chaos, and with chaos -- anarchy. Reyes thrives on the edge of chaos. Lawlessness will never be your ally, Luis.

If only his own father would have spoken to him like that. Luis had visited the general's grave a number of times on visits to Madrid, but he had not had further contact with the rest of the family. He knew that had been the incentive behind the reassignment, and for that he sent another prayer of thanks.

The absence of his own family connections would not be as noticeable in the colony. The position itself would guarantee a certain level of respect. All Luis needed was to guarantee a basis for power. He was familiar with structure of great noble families, and it was their wealth that sustained that power. The people that benefited from the wealth supported the family. The key was money. He had taken everything his mother had left him, a significant sum, and he had cut all ties. Anything that could be called his was on this ship.

Luis thought of his baggage. He had insisted most of it be stored in his cabin; he was not about to trust his valuable cargo to a damp hold. His violin in particular must be treated carefully. He had been given lessons as a child and like most children had not appreciated them at the time. It was during the last five years that a true interest in music had been gained. The countless recitals he had been forced to sit through became less tedious as he came to appreciate the talent of some of the musicians. He had sought further lessons himself and was now proficient with the instrument. All that was needed was time for practice.

He would have plenty of that, and time to read the boxes of books he had acquired before sailing. Recent and classic works in Spanish, French, and Italian. His French was very good, but the Italian could use work. There were also Latin texts. Luis wondered, however, if he was overestimating his motivation as memories of the school room overtook him. His most prized purchase was an English copy of Shakespeare's collected works. His beloved Spanish version was well read, but he wanted to know the ebb and flow of the phrases in their native language. Also, a knowledge of English would be prudent with the British and Americans being so close.

The cold wind snapped at the lowering sails. It was a miserable day to be at sea, and Luis was glad to have the heavy wool of his uniform. He smiled at the thought of the well-tailored clothes he had purchased for his role in the New World. The cloth was of good quality, but it was not the lavish silks and embroidered coats of the nobility. He had indulged in a few brocade waistcoats though. A little style was called for after all. Restrained indulgence -- that is what he was striving for. Quality without ostentation. Wealth and its advantages, without the excessive trappings. Control over what truth was seen. That is where he had failed before; he had not considered that appearance was often more important than reality. He had to maintain the demeanour of a civil servant in order not to seem a threat to the gentry, yet he had to project the taste and education of their class in order to retain their esteem. It would be a delicate balance.

This time Luis had the power of discipline on his side. Discipline supported by the structures of church and law. Discipline over his own impulses and fallible nature. Discipline to attain the wealth without flaunting the power -- until he was ready.

END