CHAPTER 5
Zorro frowned. “Don Alejandro, will you take Toronado to the pueblo stables for Señor Barquilla? It will be safer that way, I think.”
Don Alejandro wanted to refuse. It was unthinkable that such a man would have possession of such a horse as this. He knew he had seen that evil expression before. The man simply wanted to break the horse, to punish it for defying his will. But Zorro looked at him with such despair in his eyes, as was in the eyes of all the true horsemen there. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
He stepped forward to take the stallion’s halter. The tall horse flung his head up and tensed, ready to rear. For a moment, Don Alejandro wondered if he was being foolish, as he had seen this horse hold off a crowd of lancers on his own with his hooves and teeth. But Zorro placed his hand on the horse’s neck and murmured a soft word. Toronado lowered his head and went with him quietly. Halfway across the plaza, the horse stopped, and looked back with a throaty whicker. But Zorro was nowhere to be seen. Lancers poured into the plaza from all directions, searching for him.
Don Alejandro put Toronado in one of the stalls in the stable, tying him to a rope that hung there. He made sure there was hay and fresh water. The stallion watched his every move. As he turned to leave, the horse nudged him, giving that low whicker again. Automatically, he rubbed the muscled neck under the thick mane. Ruffled fur caught in his fingers; curious, he flipped the mane over to look at what kind of scar would cause such hair growth.
Whorls of hair growing in ridges and circles patterned the stallion’s neck. He traced the patterns with a finger, then looked at the stallion’s face. He stepped back and examined every part of the horse, only his eyes betraying his excitement.
“Toronado! Right in front of my eyes, all this time.” He shook his head, and with a grin, started back to the tavern at a run.
“Where is Felipe?” he asked Victoria. When she shook her head, he made a quick decision. He took the young woman by the shoulders. “Victoria, get to Don Pedro! Tell him to do nothing until I get back!” He saluted her with his gloves, and before she could protest, he was on Dulcinea, galloping out of the plaza.
“Where did my father go?” Diego asked, from beside her.
“He didn’t say. Where have you been?! Zorro needed you, and you weren’t here!” Her dark eyes flashing with anger, she poked the tall caballero in the chest with a finger to emphasize her words. As she did, several things came to her attention. Diego was out of breath, his hair disordered. His shirt collar was turned under, and the chest she poked was firmer than she expected.
Diego smoothed his disordered hair, looking around the plaza with a distracted air. “I was here, Victoria; there was nothing I could do, then.” Abruptly, he turned and walked away from her, leaving her looking after him with surprise.
The sight of Don Pedro reminded her of Don Alejandro’s admonition. She pushed her way through the crowd to the older don.
“Don Pedro! Don Alejandro asked me to tell you to do nothing until he comes back!” she said urgently.
“Why? The hearing is over; there is nothing more to be done, except for Señor Barquilla to claim his horse. Where did Don Alejandro go?”
“I don’t know, but he must have meant for you not to turn Toronado over to him! Maybe he has discovered something.”
“It is too late for him to do anything, señorita.” De Soto seemed irked that his lancers had found no sign of Zorro. “Señor Barquilla?” He gestured toward the pueblo stable.
The crowd followed the two men as they walked across the plaza. They were joined by the other two bandits, now freed. Toronado stood uneasily in the stall; he turned his head to the limit of the rope to see the men behind him. Catching sight of Barquilla, he reared, jerking against the rope and screaming in anger. Barquilla smiled grimly. After a brief discussion, the three men separated. One climbed through the stall next to the raging stallion; the other passed him a rope with a loop on the end. Barquilla stood next to a stout post set in the corral, with the other end of the rope in one hand, and in the other, a whip.
At his nod, the stallion was released, and the rope dropped around his neck in the same moment. Toronado backed out of the stall, and whirled. When he spotted the man standing confidently in the corral, he immediately lunged. Barquilla stood his ground until the stallion was almost upon him, then jumped aside, putting the post between himself and the furious animal. Quickly, he ducked around the post, winding the rope around it. When he was finished, he casually walked away from the horse and watched him. Toronado immediately realized he was tied, and did not test the rope, but stood, ears back, watching Barquilla’s every move. When the whip cracked over his head, he did not move or flinch. The tall stallion had heard that sound many times, but never had it harmed him. Barquilla moved closer, to the limit of the rope.
“Now we will see who is the master here.” He grinned. Throwing his arm back for momentum, he brought the whip down in a stinging slash across the stallion’s back. The stallion jumped in shock, and backed away, snorting in alarm. Laughing, the scar-faced man brought the whip down across the horse again and again. Toronado whirled from one side to another, trying in vain to escape the cutting lash.
Cries of protest were heard from the watching crowd.
“Can’t you put a stop to this, alcalde?” Diego asked.
Even the alcalde was disgusted with the man’s actions. “Unfortunately, no. There are no laws against abusing animals, Don Diego.”
“Perhaps I can reason with him.” Diego leaped over the corral fence.
“Señor Barquilla!” he called. “It is surely not wise to mark up the back of an animal you could sell quite easily, and at a good price.”
“Indeed, Don Diego de la Vega,” he sneered, never pausing in his whip strokes.
“I would pay you 5,000 pesos,” Diego said quietly.
Barquilla paused to look at Diego, then threw back his head in laughter. “I suppose you would.” He grinned, and resumed his punishment.
“6,000 pesos,” Diego said quietly.
Barquilla chuckled, but never paused. Toronado was maddened by the pain, his back a latticework of welts and blood. He charged at Barquilla, and when the noose tightened on his neck, he reared, screaming his frustration. Barquilla reversed his stroke and snapped the whip into the soft belly. Toronado reared again, reaching for his tormentor. The rope was so taut that his harsh breathing was painful to hear. Every time the stallion reared, the scarred man slashed the whip into his belly. He raised his arm for another blow, but was stopped by a hand made of iron.
“Name your price,” Diego said, quietly. The watching crowd was silent.
Barquilla shook the hand off, and turned to face him. “20,000 pesos,” he said, slowly.
The crowd gasped. That was a king’s ransom! Cries of disbelief rang out; no one could ever pay so much for a horse—even the de la Vegas!
“Done.”
That one quiet word silenced the crowd instantly.
Incredulous, Barquilla looked up at the handsome caballero. “You would pay that much for a horse?”
“I would pay that much for this horse, but only if you turn him over to me now. He is no use to me if he is injured so badly he cannot be handled.” Diego risked a quick glance at Toronado. The stallion was beaten, but not defeated. Lather ran down his sides and between his legs, colored pink with his blood. He panted, his teeth bared and eyes ringed in white. His gaze never left his enemy standing in front of him.
Diego watched the expressions of the man in front of him, greed warring with the hate on his face.
“Where is this money?” he asked, finally.
“My father was going to be here with the money, but I can have it released from the bank.”
“Unless you have money to show me, you are wasting my time.” He prepared for another stroke.
Diego blocked his arm. “I will get the money, but you must stop.”
“Get the money, and I will think about it.” He snapped his hand back, striking Diego on the cheek with the heavy, braided handle of the whip, then in the same motion, snapped it towards the face of the stallion.
Toronado shrieked in pain, and launched himself at his tormentor. Diego grabbed the whip as it came back for another stroke, and jerked the scarred man back, just as Toronado reached the height of his leap. The rope parted with a sound like a musket shot.
Toronado leaped past, knocking Barquilla to the ground, then whirled to find his enemy. Realizing the man could not escape the stallion’s hooves, Diego stepped over the prone man as the stallion leaped towards him. Toronado reared over Diego, and the watching crowd gasped. Diego could hear Victoria’s voice calling out his name.
Squealing in frustration, Toronado twisted to the side and landed beside Diego. The tall caballero never moved as the stallion reared and plunged, flinging sand and dirt everywhere in his fury. But as he raged, he never touched the man in front of him. Finally, he snorted in disgust and trotted to the back of the corral, where he turned his back on them.
“Diego!”
He turned at his father’s call.
“Don Pedro! I think we have some evidence that should have been presented at the hearing.” Don Alejandro handed a set of documents to Don Pedro.
The elder don read the papers carefully. “Alcalde, where are the papers Señor Barquilla presented to prove his ownership?”
“Right here, Don Pedro.” He handed them over, puzzled. “I thought you had determined them to be genuine, on Don Alejandro’s recommendation.”
“It seems we have a bit of a problem. There are two sets of papers. Don Alejandro, do you have an explanation for this?”
“Yes, I do, and you will forgive me if it is a long one, but I did not put it all together myself until a short while ago. Twelve years ago, I received as a gift from the royal family a colt by Furioso. It was his last son foaled. These are his papers—the breeders’ certificate, travel orders, transfer of ownership.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” the alcalde growled, bad-temperedly.
“Patience, alcalde, patience—I said it was a long tale. Well, when the colt got here, he was wild! No one could control him! The man charged with bringing him to me said he was like that, the whole passage, and offered to buy him. But he was a gift, and I thought I would give him some time to get over the voyage. Well, one night, I came out to find Diego training him. Under Diego’s hand, he was well-mannered and obedient.”
“I remember that colt! I think everyone in the territory tried to buy him from you!” someone in the crowd called out.
“Yes, well, when Diego had left for Spain, the man who had brought him came and tried to buy him again. When I refused, he got furious! And threatened that if he couldn’t have the colt, no one could. I had him thrown off my property. But—two days later, the colt was gone, jumped the fence. I thought he was lost for good, until now.”
Realizing what he was implying, the alcalde snorted. “You don’t really expect us to believe that this is your horse? That, all this time, he has been right here under your nose?”
“Well, sometimes, you can be blinded by what you want to believe, alcalde. I had always believed he would be a gray, and that he was lost for good. I had no idea that Zorro would find him and complete his training.”
“Can you prove this is the same horse?” Don Pedro asked.
Don Alejandro pulled a sheet from the pile of papers. One the sheet was a drawing of a horse’s neck, with odd markings. “This is the breeder’s certificate. The horse master of the royal stud is a most meticulous man. Furioso marked all his offspring with the swirls on their necks, and here they are drawn in detail. Toronado has these exact markings. It is that which finally made me realize that Toronado was my little Diablo. When I put him in the stable for Zorro, I found the swirls, realized who he was, and rode home for the documents to prove it. And the white spot on his belly is from his jump out of my corral that night; he left a patch of his hide behind.”
“I will need to see these swirls.” Don Pedro stepped through the fence, with Don Alejandro following.
“Diego, hold him,” Don Alejandro ordered his son.
Diego walked to Toronado, and, grasping his halter, stroked his nose soothingly. Without a thought that, only a short while ago, this horse was trying to kill someone, Don Alejandro walked up to the stallion and flipped his mane over. He held up the drawing of the swirls, and traced the ones on Toronado’s neck with a finger.
After a moment, Don Pedro sighed. “This proves that this is indeed the horse, but what about the identical papers?”
“You could check the watermark,” Diego commented casually.
“Watermark?” Don Pedro asked.
“Surely, the royal stud has the king’s crest as a watermark in the paper.”
Don Alejandro held his paper up to the light, and Don Pedro held up Señor Barquilla’s.
Don Pedro pointed out the plain paper he held, then the obvious crest in the paper of the one Don Alejandro had.
“Then the decision of this hearing, is that Don Alejandro is the owner of this horse!”
Diego sighed with relief, as the crowd clapped with delight.
“Just one moment.” The alcalde walked up, with Barquilla beside him. “That may be, but the horse is dangerous! If he can’t be controlled, he must be destroyed! In the interests of public safety.”
Catching sight of Barquilla, Toronado surged towards him, squealing, knocking everyone aside.
“Alcalde,” Diego protested, as he held onto the plunging horse, “that man was torturing this horse; you must expect he will react to him.”
“This man is the one who wanted to buy him from me, twelve years ago. I would bet he tried to steal him, the night he jumped out of my corral and ran away. Is that where you got that pretty mark on your face, ‘Señor Barquilla’?” Don Alejandro gestured with his gloves at the hoof-shaped scar on the man’s face. “What kind of proof do you need that this horse can be handled safely?”
The alcalde grinned. “Oh, something simple—just that the owner ride him.”
They looked at each other in stunned silence. Ride Toronado? Zorro’s horse?
The alcalde laughed, a deep, evil sound. “What is the matter, Don Alejandro—doubt your riding ability?”
“My father is the greatest horseman in California!” Diego said, angrily, bringing a pleased smile from his father. “But Toronado is injured; he wouldn’t let anyone ride him—even Zorro. It would be torture.”
“Well, then…” The alcalde shrugged.
“Uh…Diego,” Don Alejandro spoke quietly to his son, “while I do appreciate the compliment on my riding…there is one problem. Diablo isn’t mine.”
Diego looked at his father in dismay.
His father made a quieting gesture with his hand. “When you left for Spain, I had papers made up, giving him to you. I had planned on presenting him to you upon your return. Diablo…er, Toronado belongs to you.”
Diego was unable to comprehend what his father was saying, at first. The probability of having to give Toronado up had ruled his thoughts and emotions; now, the sudden relief was almost more than he could handle. Toronado was his, legally! He was not only the pure Andalusian he had always suspected he was, but the son of Furioso. His father’s dream of breeding the best horses in California had centered on this horse, and he had given his dream…to his son. He stroked the black stallion’s face gently.
His eyes turned bright with unshed tears; he turned to his father. “Thank you,” he said, simply.
The silver-haired don put his hand on his son’s arm and nodded. “But,” he said, briskly, “you should not thank me yet. You have to ride him, to keep him.” He lifted an eyebrow at his son.
Diego noticed he didn’t show any doubt that he could ride Toronado. He looked at Toronado’s back. Welts were everywhere, with blood and sweat slickening his hide. This was going to take a lot of trust on Toronado’s part…trust that the pain was necessary. He had already betrayed Toronado’s trust once that day, by turning him over to Barquilla. He thought about getting a saddle and bridle, but that would irritate his wounds even more. He would ride him bareback, with just the halter. He would have to trust Toronado.
The murmuring behind him let him know the alcalde’s demand was known. He looked over the crowd, and saw Victoria looking worried and irritated. How smiled…how typical! He was sure he would hear her opinion on his foolishness later.
He patted Toronado on his neck to warn him, then, grasping his mane, he vaulted lightly onto his back. He could hear gasps from the townspeople watching; he knew they expected him to be flung off immediately. Toronado half-reared in surprise and pain, and Diego realized his mistake at once. While he had ridden bareback many times, never in silk pantalóns. The combination of the slick material, sweat, and blood and Toronado’s short, sleek coat almost caused him to slide right off the other side. He sat up slowly, patting Toronado reassuringly. He could feel the horse’s muscles stop quivering and relax as he realized who was riding him.
Using his legs lightly to guide him, Diego rode Toronado over to the alcalde. The slightest weight stopped the stallion right in front of him.
“Is this proof enough, alcalde?”
The alcalde’s ice-blue eyes glinted as he scowled. He knew that if the de la Vegas kept the stallion, Zorro would have use of him again. He stroked his beard in thought. “It hardly proves anything to ride him in a corral, Diego. What needs to be proved is that he is not a danger to the good people of this pueblo.”
“Very well, alcalde.” Diego turned Toronado towards the gate. He realized the alcalde would try something, to make Toronado react and throw him off. It was only the very real possibility of his sliding off the slick back of the stallion that kept him from showing the alcalde just how well trained the horse was. He set his seat firmly on the stallion’s back, and grasping the thick mane in his hand, he reined Toronado out into the plaza, just as if he had a bridle. As he walked the stallion around the plaza, the crowd parted respectfully. Toronado was alert, but calm. As Diego turned him back, several musket shots rang out over the pueblo. Toronado walked calmly on.
“Lancers, after Zorro!” de Soto bellowed at the top of his lungs. The soldiers looked at him in bewilderment; Zorro was nowhere to be seen.
Toronado immediately tensed, and waited for the signal to whirl and gallop away. Diego realized that de Soto had correctly guessed that the stallion would recognize the shout that had started so many chases. Diego spoke soothingly to the horse, and though his muscles quivered, he walked on. As they drew abreast of the alcalde, Diego saw he had a whip in his hand. Toronado saw it as well, and kept his eye on the whip. With a snap of his hand, the alcalde cracked the whip. Toronado leaped in the air, almost unseating Diego. He realized he had to do something, or the alcalde would get what he wanted.
Gripping the horse’s sides with his legs, he leaned back and pulled the thick mane firmly to the side. Obediently, Toronado spun on his haunches, and Diego signaled for a leap forward. When the stallion realized he was heading right towards the whip, he hesitated, but a firm leg pressure had him on top of the dodging man in two strides. Diego locked his knee against Toronado’s withers, and leaned down to snatch the whip out of the alcalde’s hand. He started to slide off and used the alcalde to push himself back on the horse, knocking the fastidious man sprawling into a fresh pile of horse manure.
Diego brought Toronado to a stop at the far end of the plaza, and walked him slowly back. As he reached the furious man, he tossed the whip at his feet. “I think I have met all your conditions, alcalde.”
De Soto was sputtering with anger. Fragrant green smears stained his immaculate clothing. “I will have you put in irons for this, Don Diego! And that horse will be impounded! Lancers! Arrest him!”
“Hold it!” Don Pedro halted the solders’ advance. “Alcalde, you asked me to rule in this matter; you put this hearing in my hands. Now it is the ruling of this hearing that the horse belongs to Diego de la Vega. Now are you a man of your word, or not?”
De Soto glared down at the older don. “Mendoza!” he roared.
“Si, mi alcalde?” Sergeant Mendoza saluted with an expression of dismay. He truly didn’t want to be ordered to arrest Don Diego. The handsome caballero had been a good friend to him, to all of the pueblo.
“Sergeant Mendoza, round up Señor Barquilla and his compadres. I suspect they have taken advantage of our distraction to sneak away.”
“Oh, no, alcalde, they are here!” He gestured, and the three bandits were brought into view, accompanied by several of the largest lancers.
De Soto grunted sourly.
Encouraged, Sergeant Mendoza proceeded to explain how this had come to be. “You see, alcalde, I never figured this Barquilla really had a claim to Toronado. So I told the lancers to keep an eye on them, because as soon as they were ruled against by Don Pedro, I knew they would try to sneak away.”
“Very good, sergeant.” De Soto started to walk back to his office, with the earnest sergeant following.
“Because if they didn’t prove their claim, they would not get the reward and amnesty you promised them…”
“Mendoza!” De Soto spun to glare at his sergeant.
“Si, alcalde?” Mendoza gulped.
"Shut up!” he hissed.
“Si, alcalde,” Mendoza said, unhappily, not knowing just what he had done this time to anger his superior officer.
“That was amazing, son; well done! Bravo!” Don Alejandro smiled up at his son in pride. Here, at last, was his mark on his son! He had always known his son had an affinity with horses, but only the most skilled of horsemen could have done what Diego had done. The way he had stood over that bandit when Toronado had attacked! Never again would he doubt his son’s bravery.
Several others crowded around to congratulate him. He saw Victoria looking at him with a most peculiar expression, then noticed de Soto also looking back at him with a speculative look. Suddenly, he realized the danger he was in! He had just ridden the horse that everyone knew could only be approached by Zorro! Thinking quickly, he let his legs relax, and tilting to one side, he slide off Toronado with a cry of dismay. Landing in a heap under the stallion’s back, he lay there with a dazed look on his face.
Victoria pushed immediately to his side. “Diego, are you all right?” She knelt beside him, putting her hand on his face in concern.
“Diego, what happened?” his father asked.
“I guess in all the excitement, I just fainted,” Diego said, with a shrug. With their help, he climbed to his feet.
De Soto turned and walked towards his office. “Fainted!” he snorted.
Don Alejandro was bewildered. How could his son, in one moment, display some of the finest horsemanship he had ever seen, and in the next instant, fall off a standing horse?
Victoria faced the tall caballero. “Diego de la Vega! Do you know how dangerous that was?” Diego started to speak, but before he opened his mouth, the lovely tavern owner went on. “Whatever possessed you to believe you could ride Zorro’s horse?” she scolded him, as he turned to the tall, black stallion.
Felipe stood at the stallion’s head; his missions, to recover Zorro’s clothes from the tavern storeroom and to be sure the soldiers found Barquilla and his friends, accomplished. He grinned at the scolding Diego was receiving from the pretty señorita. Don Alejandro saw Felipe gesture, and saw Diego’s answering wink and quick smile. He noticed that Diego’s eyes were remarkably clear for someone who had supposedly fainted and had had a hard fall from a horse. Diego turned and saw his father’s thoughtful expression as he watched him.
“Diego?” Victoria touched his arm, to get his attention. “What will you do with Toronado? Will you let Zorro continue to ride him?”
“Well, Victoria, I think Toronado has some important duties to perform.” He grinned at his father. “But, as I think there will be problem arranging that, I feel that the horse should be ridden by the man he has given his heart to.”
With that, he took the halter off Toronado’s head. The stallion stood there for a moment, looking at Diego. “Go home, Toronado,” Diego said, quietly.
The stallion put his nose into Diego’s chest for a moment, then with a ringing neigh, galloped out of the pueblo. Cries of astonishment rang out from the plaza. Diego put a hand on Felipe’s shoulder, and they walked to where their horses were tethered.
“Don Alejandro, why did Diego turn Toronado loose? He is his horse.” Victoria watched Diego walk away.
The elegant don thought for a moment before replying. He had seen his son’s face when he had revealed the horse was his. He knew how much it had cost Diego to turn the horse loose. “Victoria, love is not about possession. You cannot own a heart. Sometimes, the greatest love is shown, by letting what you love choose their own way.” He smiled down at the lovely young woman; saluting her with his gloves, he followed after his son.
THE END
ZZZZZZ
AUTHOR’S NOTES:
This entire story came about because of a hole in the story line of the first episode that I, as a horseman, just could not ignore. But rather than complain about inaccuracies, I decided to explain how it could have happened the way the series writers said it did. I hope I have done just that!
Cheers!
Susan