CHAPTER 4
Victoria Escalante opened the door to her tavern, and stepped outside. The sun was not yet up, but its promise was on the horizon. She paused a moment to breathe in the cool morning air. There were days she wished she didn’t have to get up early, to prepare breakfast for her guests. It would be pleasant to lie in bed some mornings and have someone bring her fruit and tea. But on mornings like this, she loved being up early, the only one awake in the entire pueblo.
Her reverie was interrupted by the loud rap of a mallet. Following the sound with her eyes, she saw Sergeant Mendoza putting up sheets of paper on a doorway lintel across the plaza.
She frowned and started across the plaza. “One only person could stir Mendoza out of the barracks this early. That means somebody else is in for a very unpleasant day.”
ZZZZZZ
Don Alejandro was seated in the parlor, a steaming cup of tea beside him. He was writing notes, referring to a book in his lap. He looked up with surprise when his son came into the room.
“Diego! You are up early this morning. How is your arm?”
“I am fine, Father.” Diego walked past Don Alejandro to stand by the fireplace. Diego idly tapped his fingers on the mantle, looking off into the distance.
Don Alejandro closed his book and put it aside, but as he did, he noticed something on the floor.
“What is this?” he asked, as he picked it up.
“What did you say, Father?” Diego asked, coming out of his reverie.
Don Alejandro examined the twig he had picked up. There were dried flowers attached, and he could still smell their fragrance.
With a start, Diego reached for the twig, and Don Alejandro realized Diego had dropped it. Suddenly, his son’s distracted air was explained. He hid a smile, then asked casually, “Do you have something to discuss with me, Diego?”
“No, Father; the flower is just one I gathered for an experiment,” Diego hastily explained. Searching for a way to change the subject, he quickly asked, “What are you working on?”
“I am looking into the best way to arrange for Felipe’s adoption into our family.”
“I assumed I would just adopt him myself; no one could ask for a better son.”
“Yes, well, I agree with you there. But you will not use his adoption to get out of providing me with grandchildren!”
“But Father…”
“No, Diego! If you adopt him as your heir, then you will say your duty is done, and then where would I be?” The silver-haired don was smiling, but he was quite serious.
“I do intend to marry…”
“But when, Diego? I want babies! This house should be filled with laughter and little feet. Felipe is closer to getting married than you are!”
“I am working on it, Father! One does not just run off and marry some girl—it takes some serious thought.”
“Then you have someone in mind? Who is it?”
“I would rather not say; the lady in question does not feel the same way, I’m afraid.” Diego looked at the flower in his right hand.
“Have you told her how you feel?” Don Alejandro was elated. At least, he was admitting he had feelings for someone.
“No.”
“Diego! How can you get anywhere if you don’t tell her how you feel?! Show some passion! Court her! Stop dreaming and start doing!”
Diego looked at his father, unable to explain why he had such difficulty doing just that. A knock on the door gave him a welcome reprieve.
Don Alejandro threw his hands up in exasperation. “Diego, Diego, what am I going to do with you?” Setting his papers aside, he went to answer the door, shaking his head. As soon as he opened the door, Victoria Escalante was inside.
“Don Alejandro,” she began, urgently.
“Victoria, what can I do for you?”
“Good morning, Victoria.” Diego came to the hall to greet her.
“Good morning, Diego. I’m sorry to come so early…”
“That is quite all right, Victoria; as you can see, for once, even Diego is up, awake before noon—certainly a red-letter day!” He glanced at Diego with a grin. As usual, Diego was taking his teasing with good humor. As he turned to escort Victoria into the parlor, he caught a familiar scent. “Is that a new perfume, Victoria?”
Distracted from her mission for a moment, Victoria blushed a little. “No, Don Alejandro; I sprinkled flowers on my sheets last night—accidentally, that is. It must be their scent.”
“It is lovely; I hope it brought you pleasant dreams,” he said, gallantly, kissing her hand. “You know, Diego has a twig…”
Diego cleared his throat, then began coughing. His face slightly red, he waved off their offers of help.
Don Alejandro looked at his son thoughtfully for a moment, then turned to his guest. “What did you wish to see us about, Victoria?”
“Oh!” Victoria exclaimed, suddenly reminded of her mission. “Zorro is in trouble!”
“Zorro?” She had Diego’s complete attention. He had recovered from his coughing fit, but still looked a little flushed.
“Yes, a man has come forward, claiming to be Toronado’s owner! He is saying that Zorro stole him!”
Don Alejandro frowned. “That is ridiculous! Zorro is no horse thief! And he has had Toronado for years. Why would the owner come forward now?”
“The notice just said that there is proof of his ownership, and says that if Zorro was an honest man, he would turn Toronado over to his owner.”
“It’s just another one of the alcalde’s tricks!” Furious, Don Alejandro paced back and forth. As always, in a crisis, he itched for action.
“That may well be true, Father, but the law is plain. Perhaps we should go and have a talk with the alcalde and this ‘owner,’ and see what proof they have.” Diego spoke thoughtfully.
“Excellent!” Don Alejandro snapped his fingers. “I will have the horses saddled.” He left them with a purposeful stride, glad to be doing something!
Diego stood, lost in thought. He had always assumed Toronado was wild when he had found him, but it would explain much if he did belong to this man. Suddenly, he realized he might very well have to turn Toronado over to this man, should he prove to be his owner.
“Diego?”
At Victoria’s touch on his arm, he looked up. He had forgotten she was there!
“What were you thinking? Your face was so sad.” She looked into his face with concern, and the scent of the flowers was dizzying. He had a sudden vision of her sprinkling the flowers he had given her on her bed and sleeping with their soft petals caressing her skin. With a wrench, he brought himself back to the present, and the problem at hand.
“If this man proves to be Toronado’s owner, Zorro will have to turn him over to him. Toronado will never understand why he has been betrayed, why the man he has trusted and obeyed for eight years suddenly turns him over to a stranger. A horse knows nothing of man’s law; a horse only knows who he has given his heart to. Zorro and Toronado have been companions and partners for a long time. It would be cruel to separate them.”
Surprised at the passion in his voice, Victoria protested, “But he is just a horse—a wonderful horse, to be sure…but…”
Diego frowned at her. “He is more than ‘just a horse,’ Victoria! He is an intelligent, thinking being with feelings and a will of his own. He could not be forced to do what he does for Zorro; he chooses to. I’m not saying horses, or any animal, are the same as we are, but they do have thought and emotions, and can show affection and attachment just as we do. Someday, we will be called to account for how we have treated our animals.”
Felipe opened the door, and motioned that the horses were ready. As they followed him out, Victoria studied Diego. He had surprised her with his statements. When she had read the notice, her first thought had been that, without Toronado, how would Zorro outrun the lancers? She had not even thought about how Zorro or Toronado would feel about it. As she approached the horses, she looked at them with new eyes. Don Alejandro had the reins of Dulcinea, and the lovely white mare put her nose to his cheek in greeting. Felipe quickly swung up on his pinto, Gitano, expertly sitting out the buck the gelding gave, and grinning. Diego was examining the tack on his stallion, a golden bay. As he took the reins, the horse danced a bit, but at a quiet word from Diego, stood for him to mount. Once Diego was in the saddle, he immediately began to prance, ears pricked. But rather than jerk the reins, as Victoria had seen other caballeros do, Diego simply stroked his neck, and the horse settled at his touch. Manuel held the reins of the mare she had borrowed from the pueblo stable. While she had her own wagon, she usually just rented a horse. Perhaps if she owned a horse, it would be different.
As they rode to the pueblo, Victoria reined her mare over to Diego. She noticed that while the stallion was perfectly behaved, he eyed her mare and arched his neck a bit more.
“What is his name?” she asked Diego.
“Bailarin del Sol.” Diego patted his neck, and smiled as the stallion pranced a bit.
“Why do you always ride a stallion, and your father a mare?” She was genuinely curious.
“Well, it is preference, I suppose. My father believes mares are more courageous and more sensitive, but then, he has always had a way with women.” Diego grinned at his father, who was listening.
“Yes, well, what Diego is not telling you is that he enjoys the challenge of the stallions! He likes dealing with someone who is going to argue with you about everything for no other reason than for the sake of arguing itself! Which is good, since that describes our alcalde perfectly.” Don Alejandro saluted with two fingers, then cantered on, with Victoria following.
Felipe gestured one-handedly at Diego, with an impudent grin on his face.
“This must be why I enjoy Victoria’s company so much?” Diego grinned, and took a half-hearted swipe at Felipe. He then quickly sobered. “I may need your help more than ever in the future, amigo.” They cantered on, following the others.
ZZZZZZ
“Alcalde, what is the meaning of this…outrage?” Don Alejandro waved at one of the notices that littered the pueblo walls.
“The meaning is quite plain, Don Alejandro,” de Soto answered calmly. He sat at ease behind his desk, and had not even moved when they had come storming into his office. It was obvious he had been expecting them. “Señor Barquilla has claimed that he is the owner of the horse Zorro rides, and says he can prove it. All I am asking is that Zorro turn the horse over to the authorities and let an impartial third party decide.”
“And who will that third party be—you?” Don Alejandro pointed at the alcalde.
“Actually, before you came storming in here, I was going to nominate you, Don Alejandro, since your knowledge of horses is well-known. But now, I do have my doubts about your impartiality. So I thought Don Pedro may be convinced to preside in this matter. I think you will agree he will be fair and impartial to all parties.”
“Well, yes, Don Pedro will be fair…but how do we know it is not all a trick to capture Zorro?”
“The law is the law, Don Alejandro. If Zorro turns the horse over, and agrees to submit to the decision of the judge, I will give amnesty for the duration of the proceedings. Sergeant Mendoza is posting notices to that effect right now. I have also sent riders to Don Pedro, to see if he will come.”
Don Alejandro was still not pleased, but he could find no fault in the proposal. And this worried him. He turned to his tall son. “Diego?” Victoria looked to him with hope, as well. If anyone could find a legal way out of this, it was Don Diego!
“Where is this Señor Barquilla? I would like to see these proofs, and speak to him. In the interest of truth, of course.”
“Ahh, well, unfortunately, Señor Barquilla is not here. But he will be here tomorrow for the hearing, I can assure you.” The alcalde leaned back in his chair and smiled.
“The arrangement seems quite fair. Alcalde, if you will excuse us?” Diego motioned with his hands for them to follow him. When they reached the street, Don Alejandro started to speak, but Diego motioned back to the cuartel. Smiling, the silver-haired caballero led the way back to the tavern. He should have known his son would already have some plan.
“All right, Diego, out with it!” he said, as soon as they were safely in the tavern with the door closed. “You have something in mind.” He looked at Diego expectantly.
Diego looked around; they all looked at him as if they expected him to be able to talk Zorro out of this problem. He noticed Felipe smirking, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Unfortunately, the alcalde is right, this time; the law is very clear. There are two problems here.” Diego started to pace as he spoke. “The first one is determining who owns the horse. If this man proves to be the owner, then it must be determined by the courts whether the horse was stolen or not.”
Immediately, they all began to protest. Diego raised a hand to silence them. “I know Zorro did not steal Toronado, but that has to be proven as well. If this man does own Toronado, the only hope we have is that, once Zorro is proven innocent, perhaps the man can be persuaded to sell him.”
Felipe gestured urgently at Diego. “You are right, Felipe; even if Zorro had the money to purchase Toronado, he would not be allowed to by the alcalde. Plus, it might raise doubts as to his honesty.” At their puzzled looks, he elaborated, “They would suspect where he’d gotten the funds to purchase Toronado. Does anyone know this Señor Barquilla?”
“There is no one new in the pueblo, now that the royal guardsmen have left—except for the three bandits Zorro brought in,” Victoria explained.
“Indeed.” Diego stood lost in thought for a moment.
“Well, Diego, what do you propose we do now?” His father interrupted his thoughts.
“I think the best thing we can do is wait. I think I will head back home; it was an early morning for me.” Diego yawned politely behind his hand, and gesturing to Felipe, left the tavern.
“I thought he had some plan!” Victoria exclaimed, gesturing after the tall caballero.
“I don’t know, Victoria; just when I think Diego is finally going to do something, he does this! Sometimes I don’t think Diego will ever change.” The silver-haired caballero stared after his son for a moment. He’d thought, earlier that day, that he had seen a spark of…something in his son’s eyes. He shook his head. Diego was…Diego.
“Do you think Zorro will give Toronado to this Señor Barquilla?”
“Zorro is a man of honor, Victoria. If this man really is Toronado’s owner, what else can he do? If you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” He saluted the beautiful señorita with his gloves, and left.
ZZZZZZ
Diego looked up from the books he had spread around him when Felipe returned from the pueblo. His dark eyes flashing, he began to gesture urgently.
“Slow down, Felipe. You say Barquilla is one of the bandits I brought in?” At the handsome young man’s nod, he motioned for him to continue. “So he made a deal with the alcalde for his release and that of his men, if he can prove he owns Toronado. But you were unable to find out what this proof is.” Felipe shrugged apologetically. “It’s all right, Felipe; we know much more than we did. And I have been also put my time to good use. Proof of ownership requires some documentation—a bill of sale, a certificate from the breeder, something. So he will have to produce some tangible proof. As soon as it is dark, I will pay the alcalde a visit.”
ZZZZZZ
Alcalde de Soto sat at his desk, holding a sheet of paper in front of him. He was not reading it, however; he sat lost in thought. Finally, a deep-throated chuckle escaped him.
“Something amusing, alcalde? Perhaps you would like to share the joke?”
“Zorro,” the man seated at the desk said, without surprise. He looked up at the masked man standing over him. A momentarily flash of irritation showed on his face at the way the slender figure towered over him. As a military man, it went against his very being to have an enemy standing over him. “I don’t think you will find it so amusing.”
“Oh, try me,” the masked man said, with a charming smile.
“All in good time. You have seen the notices, I presume? The hearing is tomorrow, and whether you cooperate or not, the issue will be decided—unless you have stolen the horse, and will try to evade justice.”
“I have no need to worry about ‘justice,’ alcalde; she has always been my ally. But if you will guarantee the amnesty you promised, I will be there, with Toronado.”
“You have my word, as a gentleman,” de Soto said, generously.
“I would rather have your word as a king’s officer.”
De Soto’s head jerked as if he had been slapped. Glaring at the masked man, he growled, “I give you my word, as an officer of the King of Spain.”
“I see we understand each other. Until tomorrow, alcalde.” With a graceful bow, the figure in black leaped up to the beams overhead, and quickly swung through the open skylight on the roof.
Furious, de Soto considered calling for his lancers, but they would not catch Zorro now, anyway. He would have his revenge on that arrogant outlaw! Still seething from the insult, he stalked into the garrison rooms, shouting for Sergeant Mendoza as he went.
ZZZZZZ
The subject of all this ill will was standing undecided on the rooftop of the tavern. He had felt his wound open again as he had leaped up the beam. As he had climbed out on the roof, he had been able to feel a small trickle of blood. He should go straight back to the cave, but the chance to see Victoria was not to be passed up. Especially since all of the lancers were in the barracks, getting instructions for the trap they were setting for him. He grinned; he knew the alcalde’s amnesty would only last until the issue was decided, then they would be free to try to capture him. He would have to make a few preparations of his own. Yet another reason to go to the tavern tonight.
He crept quietly on the tiles of the roof; one wrong step would cause noise that was sure to be noticed. The tavern was quiet tonight. He swung easily in the window of the kitchen, dropping lightly to the floor. He peered through the curtain in the doorway. He would not have long to wait; Victoria was seldom out of her kitchen for long. He spotted her with a tray, collecting dishes. While he waited, he studied the kitchen, noting the door to the storeroom in the corner. He opened the door and glanced inside. It was packed to the ceiling, but there was room inside, and the lock on the door was a simple one.
That mission accomplished, he moved to glance through the curtain again. As he did, he became aware of the blood trickling down his arm and into his glove. It was not visible on his black linen shirt, but he would have to be cautious; perhaps he should leave. As he turned to go, the curtain parted, and Victoria bumped into him with the tray of dishes. Whirling quickly, he caught a dish as it slid off the tray. He handed it to the lovely woman, then while she put the dishes on the counter, he furtively scrubbed his foot over the drops of blood his quick movement had scattered on the floor.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him.
“You are most welcome, and thank you for carrying the warning so quickly about the alcalde’s plans.” He reached out and brushed the hair back from her face.
“I am glad to help; you know that—but what can we do? We can’t let them take Toronado away!”
“I may have to. I found Toronado running wild, eight years ago. I assumed he had no owner, but if this Señor Barquilla has proof, I must turn him over and betray the trust he has in me.”
“Diego said something like that as well; he said it is cruel to take the horse away from the master his heart has chosen. He is researching the law to see what we can do.”
“Yes, I appreciate his help.” He smiled wryly. He could feel the blood pooling in his glove. “I must go, Victoria. I just wanted to thank you.”
“Surely, you can think of better thanks than that!” she challenged him, lifting up one eyebrow.
“Surely, I can.” He smiled, taking her into his arms for a brief kiss. He had not, however, taken into account her enthusiasm, and the effect of the clinging smell of the flowers in her hair. He trailed kisses across her cheek, and buried his face in her hair.
“How I envy those flowers, spending the night caressing your skin!” he murmured. Greatly daring, he pressed a gentle kiss to the hollow of her throat, and she shivered. She placed her hands around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. She melted against him, and while he found the contact delightful, it posed an embarrassing problem if continued. His linen clothing did nothing to hide his own growing response, and his cheeks flushed with the thought of her noticing. Reluctantly, he pulled away.
“I really must go, Victoria.”
She nodded, wordlessly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glowing. Suddenly, Zorro noticed a stain on her shirt, and realized the blood that had pooled in his glove had soaked into her shirt. He thought furiously for a moment; he had to hide the blood somehow. He glanced at the dishes on the counter; they were all empty, a testament to Victoria’s excellent cooking. There was one with some stew left. Smiling down at Victoria, he took her in his arms. As he kissed her, he slowly pressed her against the counter. He could feel her surprise at this bold action. But before he could really enjoy the encounter, he flipped the dish with his hand, spilling stew down her skirt and covering up the tell-tale stain. The plate hit the floor with a crash, shattering instantly, and they jumped apart, glancing at the curtained doorway.
“Please forgive my clumsiness, Victoria! But I must go before someone comes.” Kissing her quickly on the cheek, he vaulted up to the window, and out into the night.
A man’s head poked through the curtain. “Are you all right, señorita?”
“Yes, I am fine,” Victoria answered, breathless and flushed. “I dropped a dish, that is all.”
She bent to begin cleaning it up, her body still tingling from the feel of his body pressing against her. She paused to savor the encounter. It seemed it was getting harder for the masked man to leave her every time. She smiled to herself as she stood up with the shards of the dish in her hands. While she understood his reasons for keeping apart from her and waiting, she vowed to do everything in her power to shorten that wait. She only wished she saw him more often.
A sudden thought occurred to her: how had Zorro known she had scattered the flowers in her bed? She set the broken plate on the counter, and absently brushed her hands on her skirt, encountering the wet stain on her side. Surprised, she looked at the stew plastered on her. “That’s not like Zorro,” she muttered, “that’s more like something Diego would do!” She sighed and went upstairs to rinse the stew out before it could stain.
ZZZZZZ
The next morning, the Los Angeles plaza was busy with people. News of the hearing had spread, and it seemed as if everyone in the territory was here to see the outcome. The noise of so many people was like a market day. Don Alejandro and Felipe rode up to the tavern and dismounted.
“Don Alejandro, where is Diego?” Victoria asked without preamble, worry creasing her brow.
“He said he had more research to do, Victoria. He will be here, never fear. My son would not let Zorro down! Please excuse me, Victoria; there is something I must do before the hearing.” The elegant, silver-haired don strode across the plaza.
Victoria sighed impatiently; they had an hour before the hearing was to start.
Precisely at twelve noon, the alcalde stepped out of his office, and walked to the center of the plaza. His uniform was perfect, the silver gleaming in the sun. His hair was perfectly combed, his beard and mustache trimmed precisely. He smiled with excellent good humor at the man who walked beside him.
“Ah, Don Pedro! So good of you to agree to rule in this matter,” he affably greet the older don. “Señorita Escalante has generously offered her tavern for the hearing, so if you will come with me?”
The tavern was set up with all of the chairs and benches facing a table with one chair behind it. De Soto indicated the chair to Don Pedro, then stood to the side, watching.
“This hearing is to determine the ownership of the black stallion, commonly known as ‘Toronado.’ Señor Barquilla, you may present your claim.”
The man who approached the don was medium height, with long brown hair swept back into greasy locks. The type of life he had led was easily read by his face and clothing. Both showed weather-beaten shabbiness. The half-circle scar on his face showed white against his tan. He placed a paper in Don Pedro’s hand and stood silently.
“This is a statement of ownership from the royal stud in Spain!” Don Pedro exclaimed. He glanced at the man standing beside him, doubt on his face that this man could possibly own a horse of such bloodlines.
“May I?” A deep voice came from the balcony of the tavern, and Zorro vaulted lightly over the rail to the floor below. He held his hand out for the document. After reading it, he looked at Don Pedro. “This could be a forgery. I suggest Don Alejandro examine the document, for surely he has seen the seal from the royal stud.”
“Very well. Don Alejandro, por favor?”
“Certainly, Don Pedro!” He examined the paper intently. “It looks in order, but this statement names a gray yearling colt, and Toronado is black.”
Señor Barquilla had turned away as Don Alejandro had taken the paper, but now he turned back. “Surely a horseman such as yourself knows you cannot tell the color of a colt until well into his second year.” He sneered. “All grays are born black; it was just assumed he would turn gray, but he did not. That does not matter; the statement proves my ownership, and I can also name his markings.”
“Toronado has no markings; he is solid black,” Don Alejandro protested.
“He has a small white spot, on his belly where the girth goes.”
All eyes turned to Zorro. He nodded slowly. “Toronado does have a white spot there.”
Victoria twisted a towel in her hands as she stood behind the counter. Glancing around the room, she muttered to herself, “Where is Diego? That is what I would like to know!”
“Señor Barquilla, can you explain how you lost your horse?”
The man scowled. “I was training him, teaching him to respect his master, when he jumped the fence and ran loose. I was not able to find him. Now of course I know why.” He glared at the masked man.
Don Alejandro started at the man claiming to be Toronado’s owner. There was something…familiar…about his tone and expression. He knew he had heard those words and seen that face before.
“Zorro?” Don Pedro said, quietly.
“I found Toronado running wild, eight years ago. I assumed he was a feral horse.”
“According to these documents, he would have been five years old, then.” Don Pedro sighed. “I am afraid, Señor Zorro, that I will have to rule in Señor Barquilla favor. He is the owner of the horse. You are requested to turn him over to his owner now.”
The tavern was filled with indignant murmuring.
Zorro looked as if he wanted to protest further, but instead, he went to the door of the tavern, and let loose a piercing whistle. It was answered immediately with a neigh, and Toronado galloped around the corner to halt beside the masked man. He wore nothing but a plain rope halter. As the crowd came out of the tavern, the stallion reared.
The masked man spoke a quiet word, and the stallion froze. But he knew something was up, his bright, intelligent eyes going from the crowd to the man beside him. He snorted and nudged his master. Zorro stroked his neck, then taking his halter, he turned to the waiting group. At the sight of Señor Barquilla, the stallion’s ears went flat against his head. His teeth snapped as the man reached for the halter. The man jerked his hand back, but grinned evilly. It was obvious he was looking forward to breaking this proud spirit.
END OF CHAPTER 4