California (3)

I set out with 25 guides, cartographers, and soldiers under the pretext of issuing work orders to the carpenter and surveying the surrounding terrain.

Gold. That's where we start. Easy to find, easy to collect.

"Let's begin here."

I steered them toward the American River, renowned for its gold deposits. But reaching it wasn't as simple as marching in a straight line.

Thick forests and uneven terrain slowed us down. Mapping the land took time, and each detour revealed new obstacles. I explored Sacramento's dense wilderness firsthand, helping to chart the topography while assessing the lay of the land.

"In the future, residential and commercial areas may expand here. Keep a meticulous record of everything," I instructed.

By nightfall, we returned to our makeshift camp in the colony, resting under crude tents before setting out again at dawn.

A full week of painstaking exploration passed before we finally glimpsed the river in the distance. Even from afar, something shimmered beneath the water's surface.

Is that…?

"Do you see that?" I asked, keeping my tone measured.

"Huh? It's... something shiny," a guide replied hesitantly.

A soldier stepped forward to investigate. Moments later, he gasped.

"Gold…! Your Highness, there are grains of gold in the river!"

Murmurs spread through the group, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Oh?" I feigned mild surprise, nodding. "Fortunate indeed. But before we start mining, we need to survey the area properly. Let's not rush in blindly."

***

"Gold?"

"Yes! The river's full of it!"

"Ah, come on. That can't be true."

"I swear it! Other scouts saw it too!"

Rumors spread like wildfire as soon as the scouting party returned. Soldiers exaggerated their accounts, fueling a frenzy among the settlers. Within hours, calls to dig for gold rang through the settlement.

Major Manuel, ever the pragmatist, took swift action.

"Listen up! All land here belongs to His Highness, Prince Jeronimo. That includes the gold. Anyone caught stealing will be severely punished!"

A murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd—until I stepped forward.

"Gold has no value unless it is mined," I declared. "Those willing to work as miners will receive high wages and free mining tools. Additionally, anyone who participates will still receive the land they were originally promised."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Ooooh!"

"Long live the Prince!"

The initial disappointment evaporated, replaced by a wave of cheers. The settlers, once hesitant, now looked at me with renewed fervor.

But while the colonists celebrated, discontent simmered among the soldiers.

They were expected to toil without reward while civilians reaped benefits. Though military service included labor, resentment brewed in the ranks. I noticed the dark expressions among them and adjusted my approach.

"And as for the soldiers and officers who have followed me through these hardships," I added, my voice carrying across the crowd, "if you choose to bring your families and settle here, you will be granted land as well. Even those who do not settle will receive special compensation for assisting with the gold mining."

The shift was immediate.

"Yes!!"

"Glory to His Highness!"

Even Major Manuel, normally reserved, let out a victorious cheer.

Wait… Manuel, why are you cheering so enthusiastically?

***

That night, excitement still buzzed through the colony.

"We made the right choice coming here," a settler murmured, leaning against his wife inside their tent.

"Yes, dear. I won't lie, the journey was exhausting, and I regretted it more than once. But now… it feels worth it."

"Exactly. I thought we'd spend years struggling just to survive. But under the Prince's leadership, everything is progressing so quickly. The land we'll receive is fertile, the gold will help us buy supplies, and soon, we'll have real homes."

"In the city, we could have never dreamed of owning so much."

Most of the settlers felt a newfound hope.

But not everyone shared their optimism.

***

Captain Jírio Cervantes of the 2nd Escort Company sat in silence, his fingers drumming against his knee.

While the others dreamt of land and gold, his thoughts turned elsewhere.

Everyone's content with mere crumbs. Have they forgotten how much they suffered just to get here?

His eyes flickered toward the river. That's a fortune sitting there, free for the taking.

Stealing gold and escaping to America… the idea had taken root the moment he saw those glittering flecks in the water.

If he could gather the right men…

He smirked to himself.

"They're all fools."

If he played this right, he'd be a rich man before the Prince even realized what had happened.

***

Under the cover of night, Cervantes began assembling his conspirators.

His first targets were the men he trusted most—soldiers from his own company.

"Listen, imagine if every soldier guarding the gold belonged to us," he murmured, eyes gleaming. "We could take everything without a single hitch."

"Stealing it is one thing, Captain," one soldier muttered. "But where do we sell it? If the Americans find out we're Mexican—"

"Think, Miguel," Cervantes cut in smoothly. "You and I have light skin, and we speak English well. We'll blend right in."

Miguel hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"I'll trust you on this, Captain."

Cervantes smirked.

One down.

Next, he turned to the settlers.

The approach was the same—find the greedy, the disloyal, those who wouldn't hesitate to betray their neighbors for wealth.

"In the dead of night, we'll have men stationed at the warehouse. While they stand guard, the rest of us take the gold. Once we have it, we ride out before anyone notices. It's foolproof."

Settlers exchanged glances.

"So many soldiers are already in on this?"

"Of course. We're building something unstoppable. Join us, and you'll be rich beyond your wildest dreams."

One by one, they fell into his trap.

Cervantes hid his malice behind a friendly smile.

***

Meanwhile, I remained occupied overseeing construction and organizing the gold mining operation.

"Hey! That pillar isn't straight!"

"I'll fix it!"

"Let me do it. Watch carefully this time."

I spent much of the day correcting mistakes, supervising the carpenters, and occasionally demonstrating the proper way to build.

"Your Highness is surprisingly skilled at construction," Major Manuel noted.

I smirked. "Just playing around, really."

"No, I mean it. The colonists admire your abilities. I've seen it firsthand."

I waved him off. "Don't expect me to hand you a gold bar for flattery."

"Ah, what a shame," he chuckled.

We strolled toward the American River, where over a hundred miners labored under the sun.

Using tools I had imported from Mexico City—mining shovels, gold pans, and sleuth boxes—they sifted through gravel in search of gold.

I adjusted their methods, ensuring efficiency.

"When placing the sleuth box, remember—water flow is crucial. Too fast, and the gold washes away. Too slow, and debris builds up."

After ten days of work, we gathered enough gold to smelt our first bar.

The blacksmith, brought at great expense, prepared the furnace.

Mercury and gold mixed to form an amalgam, then heated to vaporize the mercury, leaving pure gold behind.

As molten gold was carefully poured into a mold, I watched the first gold bar take shape.

The colony was thriving. But beneath the surface, unseen dangers lurked.