CHAPTER 1
Los Angeles, 1821
The hot California sun blazed down on the Los Angeles plaza. Don Diego de la Vega and his father, Don Alejandro de la Vega, stood facing each other in front of Victoria’s tavern. Despite the activity of the plaza around them, there seemed to be a silence around them. Don Alejandro glared at his tall son. He had endured much in the last week with the Emissary Risendo, from outrageous demands for taxes, to being turned out of the hacienda his father and grandfather before him had owned. This had culminated in the discovery that Emissary Gilberto Risendo was actually Gilberto de la Vega, and Diego’s twin brother. He had attempted to kill Don Alejandro and Don Diego, believing the lies told to him by the woman who had stolen him at birth: that his father, seeing him as less than perfect, had cast him out. He had almost succeeded in killing his father, but was defeated by Diego in a duel that even now Don Alejandro did not believe he had seen. Never had he seen such swordplay! And Diego had defeated Gilberto with his left hand, after his right had been injured! Gilberto had then pulled a small pistol from his boot, and would have killed Diego then and there if not for Alcalde de Soto shooting him in the back. Yes, he had many questions to ask this secretive son of his!
“Do you remember when Gilberto was just about to shoot you, he said that he was not only going to kill you, he was going to kill…and then he never finished. What do you suppose he was going to say, Diego?”
The note in his father’s voice told Diego he was going to insist on this answer, but still, he hesitated. He had tried to tell them all his secret, Victoria included, but had instead told them of his decision to adopt Felipe into the family. Could he bring himself to tell his father now?
“Well, Diego? What have you to say? And do not tell me you do not know, because I could tell by your face that you did!”
“Father, I…” Diego paused, then noticed the weariness in his father’s face, the strain of the past few days. He could not bear it right now; if his father was angry with him. So he still hesitated, agonizing over the decision.
Don Alejandro watched his son’s face as he thought, and felt his usual flash of exasperation. Diego always thought first; he never could just go ahead and do or say something! Suddenly, he realized Diego was truly upset by what he was about to say. His irritation vanished beneath his concern for his son.
“Diego,” his father said, his voice suddenly gentle, “whatever it is, it cannot be so bad that we could not handle it together.” And suddenly, Diego wanted to tell him, to truly share what he had been doing, whatever the remonstrations he would receive for deceiving his father for so long.
Anxiously, Felipe watched their conversation, his large, expressive brown eyes easily reading their lips. He was not sure whether he thought Diego should tell anyone his secret: that he was Zorro, the masked avenger who had been the people’s defender for nine long years now. Since Diego had returned from school in Spain, they had fought corruption and tyranny. The two of them had worked so hard to keep this secret, for the safety of those they loved. Telling it now could mean the end of Zorro, and he did know how much Zorro was still needed.
“What is wrong with Diego?” Victoria asked. “He looks like he is admitting to a crime.” Amusement at the thought of Diego ever doing anything…underhanded or scandalous showed on her lovely face. Felipe shrugged and shook his head. Victoria glanced for a moment at the young man next to her. She had to look up to him now, and with his quiet good looks, he had more than his share of pueblo girls sighing. Diego had just announced his intention to adopt Felipe, although it seemed to her that was not what he was originally going to say. She was glad, however, that Diego had decided to do it. Some might think it strange, him adopting someone as old as Felipe. But Diego had been a father to Felipe for most of his life, and she thought no one could have a better or more loving father…and grandfather, she added, glancing at the older man. Don Alejandro had been her closest friend and supporter since she had lost her mother and father. He had been like another father to her all her life, teaching her to ride, including her in all the social functions, as if she were a member of his family. The de la Vegas were noblemen, while her father had been a commoner. But never once had Don Alejandro treated her or her family with anything but respect. Her expressions played on her face as her thoughts ran their course.
Felipe watched her from the corner of his eye, as he watched Diego and Alejandro. She was considered the beauty of the pueblo, her dark, flashing eyes and ready smile conquering many hearts. But she was strong-willed, spirited, and outspoken, all of which kept many potential suitors at bay.
There was shouting on the other end of the plaza, but Diego paid no attention. “Father…” He put his hand on Don Alejandro’s arm. Suddenly, the incongruency of telling the secret he had fought so hard for so long to conceal, in the middle of the plaza struck him, and he smiled to himself. He ignored the sound of horses galloping towards them.
Don Alejandro noted the familiar self-depreciating smile, and knew Diego was laughing at himself again. He relaxed somewhat. “I am listening, Diego.”
Diego took a deep breath, and said, “I am Zorro.” His voice was lost in the sudden outbreak of musket fire.
“What?!” Don Alejandro exclaimed.
Then the musket fire and horses were upon them. “Father, look out!” Diego darted to safety, pulling Don Alejandro after him. He quickly looked to see where Victoria and Felipe were; they were safe in the stables.
“What the devil is going on here?” Don Alejandro exclaimed angrily.
Several of the townspeople ran up to them. “Don Alejandro, Don Diego, they have just robbed the church! They took the sacraments! They struck down Padre Benitez and the alcalde as they stood!”
No one thought it unusual that not ten yards from the barracks full of soldiers, the people went first to the de la Vegas. It had long been known that they were the true leaders in the pueblo, the first to stand up for justice, often to their own detriment. The people had learned not to trust the government for answers.
“Lancers!” they heard de Soto bellow from the steps of the church. “After them!”
Victoria and Felipe joined them as they hurried to the church.
“Are you all right, alcalde?” Victoria answered.
Alcalde Ignacio de Soto glared at her, as if her question was an accusation. He was tall, with blond hair turned white, and the wiry build of the professional soldier. Indeed, he had worked his way through the ranks, earning a scholarship to the university, and his officer’s stripes. Because of his humble beginnings, he seemed to feel the need to prove himself a “gentleman” at every turn, with his affected dress and manners. His goal was to return to Madrid in triumph, and he did not care who or what was in the way of his goal.
“Yes, yes, I am fine…but Padre Benitez has a cut. What kind of men are these to rob a church?!” He stalked off across the plaza, fastidiously brushing dirt from his elaborate clothes, not noticing the look Victoria and Don Alejandro exchanged at his words.
“What kind of men, indeed,” Don Alejandro muttered, as they went in the church.
END OF CHAPTER 1