Chapter Two: To Know You Better
Diego could no longer stand the way Ramon looked at Alma. When the solider began to take a step towards her, he stepped forth and smiled charmingly. "May I tempt you for a dance?"
"How thoughtful," Renee said coyly, batting her eyelashes, only to narrow her eyes when Diego took Alma's hand and kissed it.
"Me, senor?" she asked, stunned that he was paying her any mind.
"Unless I have offended you in some way-" Diego began.
"No, of course not!" she shook her head, her eyes shining brightly as she beamed at him, blush filling her cheeks. Joaquin grinned at this and slipped away without a word, vanishing into the crowd. Alma looped her arm with Diego's when he offered it and allowed him to escort her away towards the back where guests gathered to dance in the courtyard.
Placing one hand on her lower back, he gripped her hand with his free one and began to lead her in time to the music as the band played. He spun her gently and felt his heart skip a beat as she giggled in delight. "Now that we're alone, I'd like to informally introduce myself. Please call me Diego."
"Then you must call me Alma," she winked playfully. "Gracias for saving me."
"I take it you don't care for the Commandante's advances?" he asked innocently, secretly relieved. He could sense there was something dark about Ramon, and he couldn't bear to imagine having him or his sister living in the same vicinity, let alone house, as Alma and her impulsive little brother. His suspicions were reaffirmed when he saw her shake her head, her eyes downcast.
"I don't believe he and I are meant to be together, but he insists otherwise," she answered honestly.
"Surely your uncle would stop such advances…?" He frowned as she shook her head again, his disgust for both men growing by the minute.
"Let's not talk about that," she said suddenly, putting on a kind smile. "I am new to this city and I want to know all about it and its inhabitants. Tell me about yourself, Don D-"
"Just Diego," he corrected her with a wink.
She laughed as he spun her again, her mantilla slipping from her head to display her wavy chocolate hair flowing around her face. "Very well, Diego. Tell me about yourself."
"Ah…I'm afraid there's not much to tell. I'm an open book," he said with a smile. "I enjoy poetry and playing my guitar, horseback riding in the mornings, visiting Sergeant Garcia for an occasional drink and a good laugh…"
"Sergeant Garcia…that full-figured gentleman at the presidio who works with a small corporal and boasts of catching this outlaw, Zorro?" she asked, her eyes sparkling as she remembered the figure.
"The very same."
"He spoke highly of you when Joaquin and I arrived yesterday. He's such a dear heart!"
"He certainly grows on you," Diego chuckled. "Tell me about yourself. You must be more interesting than someone like me."
"I doubt that," she blushed, ducking her head for a moment as she gained the courage to be truthful. "I'm afraid I'm awful at embroidery, but I do make rather decent tamales."
"I shall have to try them," he grinned. "Tell me more."
"Well…my uncle frowns upon it, but I love reading. Mostly historic volumes, and occasionally I'll have to pull out an atlas…and of course, romantic novels." She blushed in embarrassment but he merely winked once more at her. "I do love riding my mare, Corazon, and sketching."
"Sketching, eh?" he asked. "Sketching what? Portraits, landscapes?"
"A little bit of everything. It's not very good, but I find it distracts me from…certain topics." Her voice had faded towards the end of that sentence and he could see the hurt in her eyes, but she quickly masked it and added on, "I also enjoy spending time with my brother."
"Joaquin, is it?" he asked.
"Si. He likes to play bandits and Indians and often asks me to participate in a swordfight or two."
"Is that so?" he pondered, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you any good?"
She tilted her head and pursed her lips, her eyes looking off in another direction as she toyed with him, earning a laugh from the young don. "Well, I can't say I'm a master at it…" Lowering her voice, she neared her head to his and whispered, "But I do enjoy it. Sometimes…I…oh, never mind."
"I won't tell," he promised in a soft voice, his eyes looking at her tenderly as he pulled her closer to him.
Pressing her lips together tightly, she considered her thoughts before finally whispering in his ear, an action that made him shiver in delight. "I wish I were a boy at times, just so that I might have the chance to try my hand at it."
He chuckled as she pulled away and grinned. "I'm sure you would be a fine swordsman. I'm afraid I don't have much interest in it. I believe in avoiding violence as much as possible."
"That's very diplomatic of you," she noted.
He shrugged. "Oh, I suppose so. Some say it's cowardly-"
"Courage is not determined by one's skill with a sword," Alma interrupted him, her words like a siren's call to him. Looking into her eyes once more, he stopped dancing and merely held her, surprised to feel her quivering in his arms.
"Are you cold?" he asked, ready to lead her back into the hacienda.
"No…no, I'm all right," she said, suddenly flustered.
A heartfelt smile grew on his lips as he realized why she was acting that way. He was pleasantly surprised – no woman had ever reacted to him this way as Diego de la Vega. Zorro was always the one who elicited these types of responses from women, but here was a newcomer who seemed utterly enchanted by him…and though he didn't want to admit it, he was rather smitten with her as well.
"Why did you stop dancing?"
The youthful voice made the couple blink in surprise before glancing down to see little Joaquin Quintero standing boldly before them. "Ah, here's the man of the house," Diego grinned, kneeling down so that he might give the boy a better advantage to see eye-to-eye. "It is honor to meet you, senor."
"Gracias, senor," Joaquin answered politely, bowing his head to him. "Your father is a very brave man. He's very adamant about not letting the execution happen."
"I can imagine," Diego grimaced, already thinking of what his father could possibly be saying to Quintero at the moment. He already knew nothing anyone could say would deter the man from his opinion. "I couldn't help but notice how you reacted with Commandante Ramon-"
"Bah!" the boy scoffed, almost making Diego laugh. The child acted rather mature for his age, and it was amusing to see his reactions. "I wish he would disappear."
"You mean like this?" Diego asked, pulling a coin out of his coat, displaying it to the boy and then with a flick of his fingers, made the coin vanish before his eyes.
"Oh!" the child gasped, grinning as Diego procured the coin by tugging it out of the boy's ear. "Excelente!" Joaquin cried, clapping his hands.
Alma laughed as Diego arose and bowed to the boy. "I had no idea you were a magician."
"Oh, I'm not. I learned that trick from Bernardo. He's much better than I," Diego chuckled, tossing the coin to Joaquin. "He learned from a gypsy when we were in Spain a few years ago."
"I should like to learn magic," Joaquin confessed. "You must come and visit with Bernardo! Bernardo can teach me tricks and you can tell us about Spain! We have never left San Juan Capistrano until…well, when Papa was murdered-"
"Joaquin, please," Alma stopped him, her voice stern, her eyes filled with sadness.
Diego could see the hurt in their faces and bowed to them. "I'm sorry," he said sympathetically. "…if you wish it, why don't we all go for a morning ride and stop for breakfast at my hacienda tomorrow?" he offered, hoping to make light of the situation. Still, the boys' words echoed in his mind…his father had been murdered, and Quintero had mentioned nothing of this when they were introduced. He could have avoided the topic out of respect, but there was something weasel-like about this alcalde, and he had a feeling this was no coincidence.
"That would be lovely, gracias!" Alma beamed, brightening at the news.
"Si, gracias!" Joaquin grinned. "You can tell us about Zorro, too! We've heard a lot about him. Is he really eight feet tall and silent as a shadow?"
Diego burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief at the things people said about his alter ego. "Well…I wouldn't know. I've never met him face to face, but I do know he is very cunning. He hasn't been caught yet, and I don't believe he will be any time soon."
Joaquin's eyes glittered in fascination at the thought of such a daring figure prowling the night, fighting injustice. Alma's own face was filled with curiosity but she didn't day a word as to her opinion on the matter. Her expression fell as she realized Renée was making their way towards them. "Is something the matter?" she asked kindly.
"Your father wishes for you to join him, Don Diego," Renée informed him curtly. "He says you're leaving."
Diego could imagine why that would be the case. Still, seeing the contemptuous glance aimed at the siblings by Renée, he felt guilty in leaving. Taking Alma's hand, he kissed it reverently and shook Joaquin's little hand. "Until tomorrow," he winked, bowing to Renée before taking his leave.
Renée waited until he was out of earshot before spinning around to snap at the two. "You think you can steal away this foppish fool from me?"
"He's not a foppish fool!" both Alma and Joaquin argued simultaneously. "And I most certainly had no intentions of stealing him away," Alma informed her firmly. "He came to me, remember?"
"Hmph," she sniffed arrogantly. "That's precisely why he's a fool. Pretending to be gallant for such a plain, naïve girl like yourself… it's downright preposterous." Turning on her heel, she strolled off, a wickedly gleeful smile on her face as she could sense the shame and hurt that emancipated from Alma. She was violently jerked out of her thoughts as she felt a gloved hand grasp her arm and tug her aside. "Esteban!" she hissed at her elder brother. "Unhand me! I'm not some criminal-"
"I could kill that fool!" Esteban growled, ignoring her completely. When his sister gave him a perplexed look, he whispered, "Rafael says he thinks de la Vega fancies Alma and hopes to marry her off to the dandy."
"That makes sense. He would earn part of the de la Vega fortune if their households were joined," she shrugged, seeing no problem in sending the girl off for business.
"She's mine," Ramon hissed, making her roll her eyes. She really couldn't see what any man would find appealing about that simpering soot but ever since her brother had made a partnership with Quintero, he has expressed his interest in her profusely, though Alma would have none of it.
Renee pursed her lips in thought before tilting her head slyly towards her brother, a smirk growing on her lips. "Let them marry." She held up her forefinger as he opened his mouth in protest. "For once in your life, listen to me," she glared. "Let that stupid caballero marry Alma, let Quintero earn the fortune…and then set a little 'accident' for Don Diego and his father...and then you can marry that little strumpet." She pulled back and raised an impish eyebrow at him. "It's not as if you've never set up little incidents like that before."
His brows furrowed together as he mulled what she had said, a half smile forming on his lips. "Truly, you are my equal, Renee."
"So nice of you to remember," she winked, slinking away without a second glance.
Rolling his eyes, Ramon stalked off in the opposite direction, pulling out his pocket watch as he did so. He would need to head back to town...tonight he would rest in the cuartel, just in case anything should happen with the prisoners.
~Z~
In the light of the full moon, Zorro urged Tornado on through the darkness that encased them on the road to Los Angeles. The moment he had returned home from Quintero's fiesta, he excused himself so that he might transform from Diego into Zorro. Both Bernardo and Alejandro warned him to be careful. These men were dangerous and ambitious, so there was no telling what they might try to pull. As he came closer to the pueblo, he could see figures standing at attention around the perimeter of the little city, some of them moving to and fro as they brought supplies from the posada to the cuartel. Tugging on the reins, Zorro slipped off of his trusted steed and whispered, "Go, amigo, and hide until I call for you."
The midnight hide of Tornado easily blended with the inky blackness around them and he was soon out of sight. Stalking forth, Zorro could make out the sight of a few soldiers reposting posters with his own face painted on it, the words "Wanted: El bandido ZORRO for committing crimes in the name of justice. 500 pesos for his Capture - Dead or Alive" displayed on the sheets. "Only 500, eh?" he chuckled. Slinking towards the nearest building, an old shed that the tanner used to store his wares, Zorro climbed to the roof using his whip, never altering the attention of the guard posted at the front of the little shack. Nimbly, he hopped and climbed on the rooftops, lying on his belly when necessary to avoid getting caught. It took the greater part of fifteen minutes to arrival at the wall of the cuartel, and he had to time himself so that he might hop onto the wall's ledge as so not to be seen, but he figured it was best to be cautious than to hurry himself. Lowering himself carefully onto the pile of water barrels placed in that corner, he carefully climbed down, ducking behind one of the thick barrels as he heard someone walking back.
"Can you believe it, Reyes? Our rations are cut, we must stand guard all night, and we were not allow a break at the posada all day!" Sergeant Garcia's familiar voice whined as he slumped past the barrels, sounding absolutely miserable.
"Si, Sergeant…it reminds me of when Monastario was the commandante," Corporal Reyes answered in his monotone voice.
"At least Monastario let us go to the posada," Garcia grumbled. He sighed before whispering, "Those poor souls. Without Ramon's permission, they will not be able to leave anywhere, except the gallows in the morning…they will need a miracle to save them." Zorro peeked over his hiding place to see Garcia casting a sympathetic look at the four peons caged in a cell, all of them on their knees and praying. Shaking his head, Garcia led Reyes away and began to reminisce about the wine Teo Gonzales would serve in the tavern. As his voice began to dwindle, Zorro took this opportunity to sneak toward the Commandante's office. Sneaking towards the door, he noticed how the inside was dark. Trying the handle, he found it locked. Pulling a nail from the pouch on his belt, he tinkered with the lock, constantly checking over his shoulder, before entering and shutting the door softly behind him.
Standing erect at last, he glanced around the room, frowning as he did not see the money chest that would contain the taxes and important documents. Slipping past the desk, he decided to try the bedroom door. He was stunned to find it was cracked open, a single candle's weak light barely lighting the corner of the simple quarters. There on the bed was Ramon, snoring softly under the covers while the money chest rested on a chest of drawers. Seeing the ring of keys at the foot of Ramon's bed, Zorro tiptoed over and bit his tongue as he carefully lifted the iron ring. The ring contained three keys, all of them looking nearly identical. With painstaking caution, he tried each key in the lock until the last one was accepted. Turning the tool slowly, he felt his heart jump when the lock clicked open. Glancing back, he held back a breath of relief when he saw that Ramon had not stirred. Lifting the lid, Zorro grinned as he saw the large bags that had been confiscated from the poor. He moved one hand to grab them when he stopped, noticing how Ramon's uniform was laid out on the lonesome chair in the room. Garcia's words echoed in his mind as he impishly grinned and stepped forth, only to glance once more at Ramon. Again, caution remained predominant, despite his jestful nature. "…better safe than sorry," he whispered to himself, pulling out a handkerchief from his glove before stalking over towards the slumbering superior.
A/N: Thank you to JuliaBC for reading and reviewing :) Hope you enjoyed!