Chapter 3

Alejandro de la Vega was quite used to his son sleeping in, although he deplored it. Several times, he had dropped hints that he wished Diego would be more dynamic in the morning, but to no avail. Therefore he gave up waiting after eight o'clock and began eating breakfast on his own, once again.

He should not complain, really. Diego was a respectful son, clever, well-educated, good-mannered, always soft-spoken and not prone to losing his temper. He did not drink, was trustworthy and always did what was asked of him. Alejandro felt he was unfair when he expected more than his son was able to give, yet it was hard not to feel disappointed. Diego used to be such a brave boy, full of spirit and keen on protecting the weak. It had all changed after he left for Madrid, and later on Alejandro had often wondered if sending his son away had not been a mistake. How Diego could have changed that much without him realizing it? Yet, the result was in front of him. So when had he failed? Or was it simply Diego's nature, and had it been so all along?

Sighing again, Alejandro picked up a galletas and began to nibble at it. He did not mean to judge his son. Diego was an adult, and made his own decisions, and he could not be blamed for not trying to better himself. Several times, Alejandro had surprised him practicing his swordsmanship with Felipe's help. And he had witnessed his son being humiliated and disarmed by a child. Of course, it was much to his credit that Diego had accepted defeat with good grace, but it had made it obvious in Alejandro's eyes that his son was a poet, not a swordsman.

Firmly, the older de la Vega discarded these thoughts. He loved Diego no matter what, and accepted him as he was.

But if he did not lie to himself, he could not deny that he wished his son would be a little more ambitious.

Hearing a shuffling of feet behind him, Alejandro turned back and had the pleasant surprise to see that, for once, Diego had made an effort and was up early. Awfully early, according to his son's standards.

"Good morning, Diego! Have a seat, will you?"

"Good morning, father," Diego replied as he followed his father's advice and sat down.

"Have a galletas. Is today a special occasions?"

"Oh, no," Diego said nonchalantly. "Just thought I'd go to town."

"Go to town?" Alejandro repeated in surprise. "Whatever for? We went there only yesterday."

"Oh, well, I just thought I'd drop by, have a drink with Sergeant Mendoza."

His son was like an open book to him, Alejandro thought. He wished the boy would get past his infatuation with Victoria, since the innkeeper had never shown any interest in Diego, and he doubted she ever would. He did not want to see his son heartbroken, but he could not very well stand in his way either, just offer fatherly advice when needed or wanted. Right at the moment, any advice he could give was probably neither, so he would just have to resign himself.

"All right," Alejandro nodded, "say hi to Victoria for me."

Diego lowered his head in his cup of hot chocolate to hide a blush, and his father had a forgiving smile.

Sergeant Mendoza's day had begun in a much less satisfactory manner than Don Alejandro's. First, he had had to get up at dawn because of the inspection the new Alcalde intended to conduct. Rank had its privileges, but also its inconveniences, and one of those inconveniences was ensuring each man had his equipment in order, cleaned his rifle, polished his boots, and a thousand other trifles. Mendoza really hoped Capitán Alvarez would not make it a habit to inspect the garrison, because he felt he would not survive it. He had not even had time to have breakfast and already felt weak out of hunger.

Of course, that was what happened when you had a military man as the new Alcalde. Luis Ramon had his faults, but at least he never bothered with inspections, even if he still found plenty of reasons to yell at Mendoza, over the pettiest things.

Ramon… Mendoza felt downright uneasy when that name came to his mind. The prisoner's escape had been reported to him earlier that morning, and he was not looking forward to facing Alvarez when the Capitán was informed. He did not seem like the kind of man who would take kindly to what could only be called incompetence, even if Mendoza felt it completely unfair to mention incompetence wherever Zorro was involved. The Fox had tricked cleverer men than him, repeatedly so, and Zorro's involvement in the Alca... well, the ex-Alcalde's escape, was as certain as the fact that private Ramirez, who had been guarding the prison, would be needing a new uniform, since the slashed 'Z' on his jacket was certainly not within the regulations.

Still uneasy, Mendoza finished his preliminary inspection of the barracks. As he came out, a slightly disheveled and out-of-breath lancer rushed to him.

"The Alcalde... asking for you..." the lancer gasped while trying to catch his breath.

The sergeant closed his eyes. "Madre de dios," he muttered weakly.

Dismissing the lancer with a wave of his hand, Mendoza pattered quickly towards the Alcalde's office. It still felt strange to think of the Alcalde as somebody else than Ramon, who had been in office for years. At least with him, Mendoza knew roughly what to expect, and how to escape most of his wrath in one piece. Having no prior knowledge of how to deal with Alvarez, he could only do his best and hope to get out of the office unscathed. In any case, it was probably better to knock.

"Enter!" called an irritated voice through the door.

Mendoza complied, closed the door behind him and saluted. The Alcalde - well, the new Alcalde... lord, that was going to take some time getting used to it - was standing in front of the window, but his friend Villegas was nowhere in sight. Truthfully, Villegas' absence did not exceedingly sadden Mendoza. Alvarez let the sergeant squirm for a moment, before speaking at last.

"I was informed that Luis Ramon escaped last night." Turning away from the window, Alvarez glared at a rather nervous Mendoza. He had not expected the Capitán to find out about the escape so soon. "Next time," the Alcalde continued threateningly, "I expect to hear that kind of news from you, not a lowly subordinate."

"Of course, mi Alcalde," Mendoza said quickly. "But I was myself only informed a few minutes ago, and, erm..." he racked his brains for a good excuse, but thankfully Alvarez did not give him time to finish his sentence.

"Never mind that. What matters now is to catch this dangerous criminal as soon as possible. I trust you've sent lancers after him?"

"Ah, hum, that is, I was about to..."

Alvarez gave the sergeant a look that very clearly meant, 'Just what kind of a fool are you?' and Mendoza could not help but feel relieved he did not have to provide an answer.

"You will do it at once. You will also announce to the town... ah, never mind, I'll do it. Just have somebody drum up a gathering on the plaza."

Buckling his belt with his sword around his waist, Alvarez strode outside, followed by Mendoza, who hurried to take the actions required by the new Alcalde. He sent young Private Garcia ahead with the drum, and made his way through the crowd that was starting to gather around Alvarez. He had no idea what the new Alcalde was going to announce to the pueblo, but he had a feeling it was not going to please the townspeople. Yet, in spite of the circumstances, it was also his job to see to it that nothing happened to the man in office. It was a good thing that the people of Los Angeles were reasonable fellows.

When he felt enough people had assembled to hear him out, Alvarez began his speech.

"People of Los Angeles, yesterday I came to rid you of the criminal individual who led this pueblo for the past few years."

Well, that did not start too badly, Mendoza thought.

"However, this man, Luis Ramon, escaped last night, no doubt through treachery and with the complicity of the people. For years now, under this dubious individual's rule, the most appalling things have happened, the least of which is not the case of the outlaw known as Zorro. This town leaves much to be desired, and I tell you know such unlawful behaviour will no longer be tolerated!"

So much for not starting too badly.

"Both Zorro and Luis Ramon must be stopped, for the security of this pueblo and its people. For that reason, I am offering a reward for these two individuals, dead or alive, of five thousand pesos!"

The crowd was beginning to murmur and rumble. More than a few men were openly glaring at Alvarez, who seemed to be blissfully unaware of the reaction his words were triggering.

"On the other hand, anybody offering them shelter, or helping these two men in any way, will be severely punished. An example must be made, and I will be ruthless. I will accept no trouble in this pueblo."

"Zorro has always been a protector of the people!" an anonymous man among the crowd called out.

"This is exactly the kind of behaviour I was referring to!" Alvarez shouted. "This pueblo is out of control, and since you support Zorro so openly, then you shall have to pay for it! There will be enquiries, and anyone who has helped Zorro in the past will be made to pay twice the normal amount of taxes! And I am warning you that 'helping Zorro' includes not doing everything you can to help his capture!"

Given the past history of the pueblo, that meant that almost everybody could be made to pay double taxes, and that cooled down the throng rather effectively. Protesting any more would not help Zorro much, but might cost dearly, and all were aware of that.

"That is all!" Alvarez concluded. "You may get back to your business, and pass the word."

The new Alcalde walked back into his office and Mendoza followed meekly, quite relieved to find himself out of sight of the crowd outside. He wondered if Alvarez realized how much his speech had made him an enemy of the pueblo already.

"I think I made myself quite clear," Alvarez said smugly, and that answered Mendoza's questions : he did not seem to have come across any kind of realization. Harder would be the fall. "From now on", the new Alcalde added, "they will think twice before aiding criminals, Sergeant, don't you think? Now, in regard to this Zorro..."

However, Mendoza would never know what Alvarez had planned in regard to Zorro, for the new Alcalde was interrupted by the distinctive sound of broken glass, as a small object passed forcefully through the window and landed at the sergeant's feet. Without thinking, he reached for the small object, which turned out to be a written message attached to a small stone. Alvarez had run to the window, but was disappointed to see nothing conspicuous, so he walked back to his desk and glanced at the message.

"What does it say?" he asked imperiously, and Mendoza opened the message, carefully avoiding to tear up the paper. He was not a good reader to begin with, so there was no need to make things any more difficult.

"It says, 'If you want Luis Ramon, you will find him hiding at the abandoned San Gabriel Mission.' And it is signed, 'one of his enemies.'" Mendoza paled when he realized what he had just read, and he hastily put the paper down on the desk as though it burned his fingers. "Hum, do you want me to send the lancers, mi Alcalde?"

Alvarez seemed to consider that for a while, then shook his head. "If you send a whole company, they'll be noticed three miles away. No, leave that to me. I'll handle it."

"Yes, mi Alcalde," the sergeant murmured, feeling miserable and relieved at the same time. He definitely did not want to be caught between the old and new Alcaldes. Both would have his head, if that was the only thing they ever agreed on.

"Dismissed," Alvarez said absent-mindedly, and Mendoza did not need to be told twice, glad to escape the cramped atmosphere of the Alcalde's office.

Diego had witnessed the new Alcalde's speech, though he had done his best to remain inconspicuous. Alvarez was insane to treat the people of Los Angeles like that, he thought. He felt concerned, not for the safety of the despicable Alvarez, but for the people. If this masquerade of law and justice kept up, sooner or later there would be an uprising. And if that happened, troops would be sent to Los Angeles, and it would be a massacre. Diego had to prevent that from happening, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

He did what he had come to Los Angeles for and rode back immediately to the de la Vega hacienda, though he glanced wistfully at Victoria's inn as he went by. However, he had no time to waste if he did not want to be late.

His father was in the living-room. Diego had hoped to go immediately to his room, but Alejandro had something else in mind. When he heard his son's footsteps, he popped his head out of the door and motioned him inside.

"What is it, father?" Diego asked, as he complied with the unspoken request.

Alejandro looked positively furious, though he kept himself in check; but Diego had known him too long not to notice the way he bit his lips and clenched his fists.

"Have you seen what happened in town this morning?" the older de la Vega finally exploded.

"Hum, yes," Diego replied prudently. He knew it was going to be one of these moments, when it was the hardest to keep acting like a weak-minded coward in front of his father.

"Don Sebastian was here a moment ago and told me everything. Doubling the taxes! This man is insane! Even Ramon would not have dared going that far! He has to be stopped, Diego, at any cost!"

"From what I understand," Diego objected meekly, "the governor of California will be here in a few days to name the next Alcalde. We can wait that long. He won't be able to ignore the pleas of the people."

Alejandro looked even more furious, but then he sighed and he simply looked disappointed. Seeing his own father look at him like that tightened Diego's throat, but he had to act his part, no matter what.

"I thought you would say that," Alejandro said simply. "I intend to speak about it with other caballeros, but it might be better if you don't take part in these talks."

That hurt, Diego realized as he forced himself to nod and leave. He knew he must look quite pale, and he also knew his father probably thought that was because he was relieved that he did not have to take part in revolutionary talk. Of course, his father still loved him, and would love him no matter what, but that only made his disappointment more acute. He had always known, ever since he had returned from Spain, that his new persona as Diego would not be the son his father wanted - not a son his father could be proud of. But facing Alejandro now was harder than he had expected. Yet, he could not tell him, because... because... why? Because he might accidentally betray the secret? Didn't Diego trust him? The feeble arguments he had thought of at the time seemed now weaker and weaker.

He was afraid, Diego suddenly understood. Afraid of what his father's reaction would be if he were to tell him the truth. What if he was furious his son had taken such risks without telling him? What if that did not change the way he saw Diego, as a weak-minded coward? What if - and that one was the worst - what if he did not believe him? How often he had said that Diego never could be a great man as Zorro...

Sighing, the young man made his way to his room. Unfortunately, he was in a hurry, and as much as it might have hurt his pride, the fact that his father had other business to attend to and would not expect to see him for a good while actually made things easier for him. Walking to the fireplace, he opened the entrance to the secret passage, and walked down to the room where he led most of his experiments, and where he also kept Zorro's clothes. Diego quickly donned them, put on his mask and fastened his belt with his sword. Then came the hat, and he strode to the cave where Tornado was kept.

Felipe was there waiting for him, with Tornado already harnessed, and Diego thought not for the first time that he did not know how he would have managed without the boy to help him. On numerous occasions, Felipe had proven to be trustworthy, intelligent and brave. But more than that, he had given Diego the respect everybody else denied him. Of course, a lot of people liked him, but in a condescending manner. When his own father did not respect him, how could he expect anyone to look up to him?

Felipe made a motion with his hands, snapping Zorro back to reality.

"What? Oh, how long will I be gone? I don't know, a few hours I expect. If my father asks, tell him I've decided to go out for a walk with a book of poetry. He'll have no trouble believing that," Diego concluded with just a hint of bitterness. "Now I must be going, or I'll be too late, and I doubt the Alcalde would ever forgive me for that."