What a moving sight.
At last, the first building stood complete.
"It may not be large, but it's a beautiful church."
"And the interior is ready as well. Please, come in."
With Father Raúl, the young clergyman who had accompanied the expedition, Jerónimo stepped inside the newly constructed church.
The two-story structure included a space for worship, a communal gathering hall, and private quarters for the priest.
"Your Highness," said Father Raúl with visible emotion, "thank you for blessing us with such a fine church. Because of your grace, the people who came to this land can now gather to hear the word of God."
"I know the burden will be heavy," Jerónimo replied, "but I hope you'll faithfully share the Lord's teachings with our settlers."
In this era, a church often served as a community center as well. Nearly every resident would attend service on weekends.
The church had space for about 150 people at once. It might require three services per weekend to accommodate all.
He had originally planned something grander, but with this being the first building and such a large structure proving too ambitious, scaling it down had been the right decision. Even so, it had taken ten full weeks to complete.
As the inaugural structure, it demanded not only time but a focused workforce—about thirty workers at most were deployed at any one time.
Meanwhile, all settlers not engaged in gold mining had been gathering and processing lumber. The carpenters had now gained a solid understanding of light-frame construction. From here onward, multiple buildings could be constructed in parallel.
For the first building, Jerónimo had practically taken on every task himself. Though he had explained balloon-frame construction to all thirty carpenters in detail, teaching by word alone was never enough.
He had to demonstrate each step himself while the others observed. Eventually, their understanding deepened, and the pace improved.
"Master Ortega, are you confident in your team?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Of the thirty carpenters, ten—including Master Andrés Ortega—were assigned to construct the government hall and military barracks.
Another five were tasked with building two warehouses, while the remaining fifteen were split into five teams to construct five homes.
Jerónimo himself would move between all construction sites, overseeing and managing every detail.
With the exception of the thirty carpenters and the hundred miners, the remaining 320 settlers would all assist in the construction effort.
Nine buildings in total: the government hall, barracks, two warehouses, and five homes. As with the church, none were especially large—so they should be completed within eight to ten weeks.
Meanwhile, gold mining continued steadily.
After working the riverbeds of the American River, they had begun panning at Sutter's Mill in Coloma—the historical cradle of the Gold Rush. Soon, they would begin extracting from the open-pit mines at Angels Camp as well
The Conspiracy Awakens
To Captain Julio Cervantes, it was finally time.
Magnificent…
His second company was responsible for guarding the settlement and its warehouses. This gave Julio a direct view of the incoming, refined gold.
A fishmonger putting a cat in charge of the shop, eh? Much obliged, you naive little Crown Prince.
He licked his lips and quickly calculated the figures.
One gold bar weighed about 3 pounds (1.36kg). Thirteen bars came in each month over six months—that's 234 pounds (106.14kg). More than enough.
He had no intention of sharing equitably. Though the number of participants would dilute the haul, Julio had no plans to be fair.
Give the soldiers a small share. As for those weaponless peasants… I'll work them to death as porters and dispose of them before we cross into the U.S. When the next batch of gold comes in, we strike.
He began discreetly reassigning guard shifts.
His goal: secure a two-hour window during which the five night-shift guards at Warehouse One would all be his loyal men.
This wretched frontier is behind me. I'm headed to the cities.
Though Sacramento had grown tremendously over the past six months—with enough homes for every family and a neatly arranged layout—it was still a backwater in Julio's eyes.
No shops. No taverns. Just farms and dirt roads.
Already, he looked down on it like a man who'd already joined the aristocracy.
While Julio dreamed of his bright future, Roman—one of the settlers Julio had recruited into the plot—grew increasingly uneasy.
Julio's silver tongue had lured him in, but now doubts gnawed at him.
Will the plan even work? And if it does… what's to stop Julio from turning on me?
There was a saying: criminals recognize each other. And Roman could smell betrayal all over Julio.
If I want to survive, I need allies.
Julio had ordered silence. No spreading the word. But Roman thought: if he was careful, surely there was no harm?
That evening, he approached Victor, a neighbor with whom he'd grown close through working adjacent farms.
Victor welcomed the unannounced visit—but the conversation quickly veered off course.
Victor was a man of few words, and one Roman could not read. A quiet but resolute sense of loyalty to the crown lived in him.
"Steal gold? Are you insane? That's a crime!"
"Not if no one finds out! I'm telling you—it can't fail!"
Victor flew into a rage, threatening to report him.
This bastard. Spouting nonsense about loyalty. Maybe I should just kill him.
Roman considered it.
It was the middle of the night. The homes were far apart. If he slaughtered Victor's family, there would be no witnesses.
He only needed to say he had been at home with his family since dinner. There'd be no reason for suspicion.
His hand itched around the hidden dagger.
"Father! Just this once—can't we just go along with it?" a voice interrupted.
Victor's son—Diego—suddenly entered the room, supporting Roman's argument.
Oh? Diego, was it? Seems like someone I can reason with.
Victor grew even more agitated, shouting back at his son. But when Diego secretly winked at him, Victor understood—it was all an act.
"Father, I want an education in the city too! It's not like stealing a little gold will destroy the Crown Prince."
Victor calmed slightly. He knew his son well.
Is it working? I didn't take Victor for the type to be soft on his children… but maybe…
Roman pressed the advantage.
"Your boy deserves a future. Or would you rather he live and die behind a plow? Like your son said—it's just a little gold. A pittance to the Crown Prince."
"…Alright. I'm in."
"There we go. That's the spirit."
Convinced he had won another recruit, Roman returned home elated.
As Roman walked away, Diego narrowed his eyes.
"He had a dagger hidden on his back."
"What?" Victor's voice was a whisper of horror. "We must report this immediately. Diego, if not for you…"
"We can't yet. They haven't committed a crime. And we don't know who all the accomplices are."
"Hm… that's true."
"It's better we pretend to join them and pass the information to His Highness."
Victor followed his son's advice. He played along, built trust.
Julio was angry that Roman had recruited someone without permission, but since Victor was eager and cooperative, he let it go.
Roman kept secret the fact that Victor had initially threatened to report him.
And so, within this festering plot were three men with very different intentions:
Julio, the scheming traitor,
Roman, the hesitant conspirator,
Victor, the spy.
And when the day of the heist finally came, Victor quietly delivered the full plan to Crown Prince Jerónimo and Major Manuel.
"Julio Cervantes… So that's it. No wonder he insisted that his company guard Warehouse One—despite it having the highest number of shifts. He's not the type to volunteer. My apologies, Your Highness."
"It's fine, Major. We need to be sure they attempt it. I'm grateful for Victor's report—but we can't act on suspicion alone. Position the troops in secret. We'll catch them in the act."
"Understood, Your Highness."
The Ambush
In the predawn darkness of the appointed day, Julio Cervantes, his five loyal soldiers, and twenty settlers gathered at Warehouse One.
As the settlers loaded the gold inside, the guards kept watch.
There was no one else around. There were no taverns in this backwater. No one roamed at dawn.
"No one's coming at this hour."
"This is as good as done."
"Did you see the way those gold bars gleamed? We're rich now."
It was a moonless night.
The only light came from two kerosene lamps affixed to the warehouse door. Ten meters beyond was pitch black.
The soldiers stood in silence, awaiting the haul.
"…Hey, did you hear that?"
"Hear what? I didn't hear anything."
Thunk.
"Wait—now I heard it too."
"I'll check."
The soldier at the entrance picked up one of the lanterns and walked toward the sound.
Barely ten meters.
"…What? Oh—oh, God…"
A wall of shadows emerged—dozens of soldiers pointing their muskets straight at him.
"Shh."
Major Manuel placed a finger to his lips.
"P–please… spare me."
The soldier dropped his weapon.
Inside, Julio barked orders.
"Move faster! I've counted the bars myself—don't even think about skimming!"
He didn't trust the settlers. He'd tallied every gold bar beforehand and assigned each person a specific quota.
If it were up to me, I'd take it all. But this month's batch brings us up to 274 pounds (124.28kg). I can't carry it alone.
Everyone had already packed what they needed to escape—clothes, food, and valuables.
The soldiers needed firearms and ammunition. They'd have to rely on the settlers for the heavy lifting—for now.
Only until we reach the U.S. Roman dies first. That peasant dared to recruit without permission? Lucky Victor played along. That could've ruined everything.
"Right, if everyone's packed—let's go!"
Julio opened the door with a grin.
Click—
What the—?
Dozens of muskets greeted him in the dark.
Jerónimo and Major Manuel stood at the front.
"What the—shit! A rat… we had a rat!"
He turned around instinctively—and met Victor's calm gaze.
Unlike the others, who were paralyzed with fear, Victor looked composed.
It was you…!
"Roman! You worthless bastard! You and your greed ruined everything!"
He raised his musket at Roman.
"Stop!!"
"Don't move!!"
Major Manuel and the Company One commander shouted, but Julio didn't hesitate.
"I didn't tell them! It was Victor!!"
Roman cried out, trying to shift the blame.
"I know! Idiot! It's all your fault—so die!"
"Fire!!"
Bang! … Bang bang bang bang bang!
Julio shot Roman.
And the rest—opened fire on Julio.
"No one move!!"
That morning, gunshots rang out and startled the settlers awake.
When the truth was revealed, outrage erupted.
"Shameless bastards! How dare they betray His Highness!"
"They could've lived well if they just worked honestly. Fools."
The conspirators: Julio Cervantes, five soldiers, and twenty settlers.
Julio and Roman were dead. Victor's five family members had only pretended to participate.
That left fourteen settlers and five soldiers alive.
Jerónimo confiscated their property but proposed a merciful sentence.
If they labored as miners for four years—without pay but with food—they would be forgiven.
Dragging nineteen people to Mexico City for trial would be more trouble than it's worth. This deal is better for everyone.
It was, indeed, far more lenient than what a formal court might impose.
Still… this was close. If not for Victor, we would have been caught off guard. I mustn't let my guard down again.
He had been reminded that this was a time when hesitation meant death.
With the matter settled, preparations began for the return to Mexico City.
Funds for wages were running low. It was time.
Company One's commander and fifteen soldiers would remain behind to guard the colony. They had chosen to settle in Sacramento, and Jerónimo promised to send for their families.
The return party consisted of Jerónimo, Major Manuel, thirty soldiers, five carpenters, two boys, and one guide.
The same wagons that had once carried grain and tools now bore gold bars.
It had been eight months since they first arrived in Sacramento.