Those readers who haven't watched the anime might be a little confused about Alejandro's characterisation in this chapter. In the anime, he's a lot calmer and less willing to resort to violence than in most other adaptations of Zorro. The way the anime has set things up is that Diego and Alejandro are the calm and controlled ones while Lolita and Bernard have a hot temper and are prone to acting first, thinking second.
THE RIGHT TURN OF THE ROAD
Chapter 10
Gabriel finished buttoning up his uniform. He felt like his chest was going to burst from excitement and pride. Even the slight clumsiness of his right hand and how long it had taken him to finish the task couldn't tarnish the joy of returning to duty. He could hardly believe that the day had finally come.
His shoulder was still hurting, but the pain had subsided into a dull ache somewhere deep within and only flared up when he tried to lift his arm above his head. He wasn't too worried about that. A few months was very little rest after an injury like that. He was sure that with more time and normal routine it would be fine soon. Dr. Timothy had once more told him that he should wait longer before getting back to work, but Gabriel had several reasons not to do it. Commander Raymond wouldn't give him more leave. Even if he had, Gabriel wouldn't have accepted it. The quiet weeks he had spent resting had been slow torture.
He walked outside with his head held high. His men were already waiting for him on horseback. They looked organized and competent for a change. Most of them had even polished their boots. Gabriel guessed it was Gonzales' idea, and again he had to admit that the sergeant could do something right. It had become something of a routine lately.
"Welcome back, sir!" Gonzales said with a mighty grin and a salute.
"Is everything ready?" Gabriel asked.
"Yes, sir! I have personally made sure that everything is in order."
Gabriel was in such a happy mood that it didn't even cross his mind that when Gonzales was in charge, things usually didn't go the way he wanted. With an appreciative nod at the sergeant, he mounted his horse and took his position before the men. One barked order later, they were on their way.
The task for the day wasn't particularly interesting, but it was vital for Raymond's plans with Don Dias. They were to visit the remaining farmers who hadn't paid Raymond's new tax and confiscate a corresponding amount of wheat. The reason they gave to the public was that the wheat would be sent to Spain where it was needed more, but it was actually going to be sold to Don Dias who in turn would sell it elsewhere. Gabriel was glad he had returned to duty in time for this operation; he was certain that Raymond would have withheld his share of the profit if he hadn't done his part.
Gabriel felt his heart swell with power and pride as they rode through the town on their way to the villages in east. The people they passed were staring at him with wariness in their eyes, but they immediately shied away when he turned to glare at them. He smirked. It felt good to be back in a position where he was feared and respected.
They arrived at the first farm after some half an hour of riding. The people living there came running outside as soon as they heard them and huddled together as Gabriel stopped his horse before them.
"We've come to get the king's wheat," he announced.
The father of the family looked at him with pleading eyes and stepped forward. "Please, we had a bad harvest. We can't afford to give away anything."
Gabriel snorted. "And why should that be my problem? Do you think you're so important that the king will care about your troubles?"
"No, but -"
"Enough excuses! Bring the wheat here now, or do we have to make you?" Gabriel cut him off.
The poor farmer sighed in resignation and wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders. He told his sons to bring out the wheat from the storage and load it onto the wagon the army had brought along. The rest of the family, including three daughters of which one was barely old enough to walk, watched the scene with grim expressions on their faces. The little one couldn't understand what was going on, but she sensed that her parents were afraid of something. She was clinging to her mother's dress and hiding her face from the soldiers, only occasionally daring to steal a glance at them.
As Gabriel observed the work, he couldn't help but notice the look on Gonzales' face. The sergeant was watching the family with a frown on his face. When he urged his horse into movement and came to the lieutenant's side, Gabriel could already guess what he had to say.
"Lieutenant, do we have to do this? These people won't have anything to eat."
"In that case they should have worked harder so that there'd be something left for them," Gabriel said.
"But sir! It's not their fault. Everyone is having a hard time now."
"That's the way in Spain, too. Don't you think the king has the right to demand his subjects to help?" Gabriel asked.
"Of course he has, but…" Gonzales grew silent and sighed. He was clutching the reins of his horse with trembling hands. "Taking away people's hard-earned food is not what I wanted to do when I joined the army. We should be helping people, not terrorising them."
Gabriel frowned but said nothing. Gonzales' words sounded entirely too much like Zorro's to his liking. He wondered if the sergeant's recent positive experiences with the outlaw weren't having a bad effect on him. They would all be in trouble if Gonzales decided that Zorro was right and the army wrong. Even an idiot like him might cause some damage if he went to the right people.
"You shouldn't bother yourself by thinking about it. There's nothing we can do. These are direct orders from Commander Raymond," he said. He forced his voice to hold a remorseful tone. It took all his self-control not to burst out laughing when Gonzales turned to look at him with surprised and hopeful eyes.
"You think this is wrong, too, Lieutenant?" he asked.
"What I think doesn't matter," Gabriel said. He pressed his heels against his horse's sides and rode to the wagon where everyone was done loading the wheat. He inspected the amount with disdain and turned to face the farmer's sons.
"There is some missing," he said.
"No, this is all we have," the eldest son said.
"Don't lie to me! I know you must be hiding the rest somewhere!" Gabriel barked. He turned to face his soldiers. "Search every storage room! We aren't leaving before we have the right amount."
He watched how the soldiers stormed into the grain storage to look for the wheat. Loud crashes and bangs accompanied them, and he could only imagine the damage they were doing to the family's property. He smirked when he saw the farmer pull his wife closer against him and how she was biting her lip in an attempt not to cry. It served them right. This was what they deserved for trying to deceive them.
After a while, the soldiers returned, empty-handed.
"Well?" Gabriel asked.
"We didn't find anything, sir. It appears there really isn't more," one of the soldiers said.
"That's what we told you! Now you've ruined everything! How are we going to -" the eldest son said, his face red with anger and despair. His brother put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, but even he was clenching his jaws in repressed fury.
"I've had it with your lies," Gabriel said. He pointed towards the oldest son. "Arrest him. He can stay in prison until his family agrees to say where they've hidden the wheat."
"No, please! I swear we're telling the truth! There isn't any more!" the farmer cried out, letting go of his wife and rushing to his son's side.
Gabriel ignored the pleading look the man was giving him and gestured for his soldiers to apprehend the farmer's son. The young man growled under his breath and struggled to get free, but he was no match for three trained men. His hands were tied behind his back and he was thrown on his face in the back of the wagon.
The farmer's wife let out a howl and fell on her knees by Gabriel's horse. She reached up to grab his legs, but he merely kicked her hands aside.
"Please don't take away my son!" she begged.
"If you want him back, I suggest you tell us where the wheat is," Gabriel said.
The only response he got from the woman was an anguished sob as she buried her face into her hands. Her husband helped her back on her feet and guided her towards the house. The younger children had started crying, too.
"Lieutenant, please," Gonzales said in a low voice, staring at the scene in frozen horror.
"If we start being lenient towards one person, we'll soon have to make exceptions for everyone," Gabriel stated. He turned his horse around and gave his men the order to follow him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gonzales hesitate for a long time before he finally guided his horse to follow them.
"They have no reason to complain," Gabriel told him once the sergeant reached his side. "They'll be getting their son back when they tell us where the wheat is."
"And what if they really don't have any more?" Gonzales asked.
Gabriel let out a hum. "That's for Commander Raymond to decide."
Judging by the grim expression on Gonzales' face, the sergeant knew just as well as he did what that would mean.
Lolita sighed in relief when she entered the de la Vega house, away from the scorching sun. It was an unusually hot day, and on her way she had already started to regret her decision to visit Diego and Bernard. She wiped a bit of sweat off her brow and made sure she was presentable. While she was straightening her dress, Maria stepped into the hall with a large basket in her hands.
"Good day, Lolita. What brings you here?" she asked.
"I just came to see Diego and Bernard. Are they home?"
"Yes, they're in the dining room with Don Alejandro," Maria said and nodded to her right.
"Alright. Thank you."
"It sure is hot today, isn't it? I feel like I'm going to faint if I take one step further. This is no weather to be weeding the vegetable fields," Maria said, shaking her head ruefully.
"We told you to leave it for tomorrow and have a drink with us," Don Alejandro called out from the dining room.
"If I did that, no work would ever get done in this house. Especially with Diego the way he is."
Lolita couldn't help but smile despite the heat. "I can help you."
"Oh, no, that's not necessary. I'm almost done anyway. You just go and join the others," Maria said.
When Lolita stepped into the dining room, she found Diego, Alejandro and Bernard sitting around the table. Alejandro and Bernard looked to be handling the weather well, but Diego was half lying on his chair, his brows furrowed in misery. His expression brightened almost as soon as he noticed her.
"Hello, Lolita! It's nice to see you," he said and made the attempt to sit a little straighter.
"Please take a set and have something to drink," Alejandro said.
Lolita gladly sat down next to Bernard. The boy was already pouring juice for her and offered her a glass.
"Here you go," he said, and Lolita took the glass with gratitude.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said.
"Not at all. In fact, it's good that you came. We might need your assistance," Alejandro said.
"I'd love to help. What can I do?" Lolita asked and took a sip of the juice.
"You must have heard that Don Augusto and his son Rafael are arriving in a few weeks," Alejandro said.
Lolita nodded. "Yes, my father told me about that. He's really looking forward to doing business with Don Augusto." That was an understatement. Her father had been frolicking around the house for the past week, making grand plans about all the money he was going to earn. At the same time, her mother planned with equal excitement what she could buy with the money her husband got.
"I don't know them personally, but Augusto is a friend of my cousin in Spain. I'd like to make sure they feel welcome when they arrive here," Alejandro said.
"I'm sure everyone is going to be happy to have them here," Lolita said.
Alejandro nodded. "I know. And that's why I'd like to arrange a small party to celebrate their arrival."
"That's a wonderful idea! I'm sure they'd love that after the long voyage," Lolita said.
"Unfortunately I'm a little busy with a few things, so I'll leave Diego and Maria in charge of organizing everything. I'd be happy if you could help them," Alejandro said.
"Of course I'll help. It's going to be lots of fun."
"We'll throw the party here at our estate a few days after they have arrived. They'll probably want to relax a little after the trip," Diego said.
"Have you already decided what kind of food to serve?" Lolita asked.
"We'll leave that to Maria," Diego said with a chuckle.
They continued talking about the arrangements of the party for a few more moments, but then there was a knock at the front doors. Bernard hurried to open the door, and he soon returned to the dining room with a man. Lolita couldn't recall his name, but she recognised him as one of the farmers who lived in the area.
"Ah, Tomas. This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?" Alejandro said.
The man stood with his shoulders hunched. His mouth was only a thin line, and he kept his eyes on his hands that were holding a simple hat. Lolita frowned at the worry she saw on his face and wondered what could be wrong.
"Don Alejandro, I hate to come to you like this, but..." Tomas started. He drifted off, grimacing sourly at his hat.
"What is it? There's no need to hold back. You know that if there's something I can do, I'll help."
His words seemed to strike a chord in the man because he turned to look Alejandro straight in the eyes. "It's my son, Felipe. He was arrested by the army this morning," Tomas said.
"What?" Alejandro asked.
"What for?" Diego asked at the same time.
"We didn't have enough wheat to pay the new tax. We gave them everything we had, but it wasn't enough. The lieutenant thought we were hiding the rest somewhere, and he said the army won't release Felipe before we hand it over," Tomas explained. His voice broke in frustration at his son's name, and Lolita saw the hat tremble in his hands.
"That's so low!" she said, clenching her fists in anger. Every time she thought Gabriel couldn't get worse, he surprised her with another dirty trick. Life had been so peaceful with him off duty, and she had almost liked him for taking Gonzales' side when he was being accused of theft. She should have known that he'd go back to terrorising the people as soon as he could.
"It shames me that I have to come here like this, but I don't know what else to do. Please, Don Alejandro, could you -" Tomas started, but Alejandro cut him off before he could finish.
"Of course. I'll give you as much as you need to get your son back," he said.
"Thank you! I promise I'll pay it all back as soon as I can," Tomas said, eyes shining with gratitude.
They all walked to the storage room where the de la Vega family kept some of the wheat. Alejandro, Diego and Tomas started loading wheat bags on Tomas' wagon while Lolita and Bernard watched.
"That was the last one," Tomas said after throwing a bag on top of the others. He leaned against the wagon and wiped his forehead, but then he noticed that Alejandro and Diego were still carrying wheat.
"I don't need any more. This is enough to get Felipe back," he said.
"You said it yourself; you gave everything away. Your family needs something to eat," Alejandro said.
"I thank you, but it's not necessary. We'll manage somehow. Don Alejandro, I could never -" Tomas started, but Diego cut him off with a light-hearted chuckle as he came to throw his bag on top of the pile.
"You shouldn't try to argue with my father. He can be as stubborn as a mule."
"Damn right I can. I won't accept any objections about this," Alejandro said.
Tomas opened his mouth to argue, but he needed only one look at the serious expression on Alejandro's face to realise that there was no point. He smiled in some hesitation and shook his head.
"It doesn't feel right to beg," he said.
"This isn't begging. This is neighbours helping each other," Alejandro said sharply.
"Believe me, I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that..." Tomas said but drifted off.
Alejandro's face softened. "I understand. You have no reason to worry. We have to stick together if we want to survive the army's tyranny."
"I'll pay you back as soon as I can," Tomas promised as he climbed on the perch and took the reins.
"There's no hurry. Just make sure you don't let the army see that extra wheat or they'll take that away, too," Alejandro said.
"That wouldn't surprise me the least," Lolita muttered under her breath. She could already imagine Gabriel's smug face as he took the poor family's last supplies and claimed that the amount had grown higher since it had taken them a little longer to pay. That man was incapable of sympathy.
"I hope he gets his son back," Diego said as they watched Tomas go.
"I hope so, too, but I'm sure there will be others who'll share their fate," Alejandro said with sadness in his voice. "And I don't know if we can help everyone."
Diego nodded in silence. Lolita couldn't say why, but she suddenly got the impression that he was thinking about something really hard. There was a stern look in his eyes, and it reminded her of how he had been before he had gone to Spain. If only he'd be that man again.
Later that day, Diego and his father were sitting in the dining hall. It was already getting dark outside. Diego had sent Bernard to take care of Viento so that they could go riding that night and see if there was anything for Zorro to do.
The recent events made him feel hollow in the pit of his stomach. News of other families in distress had reached their estate. Alejandro had of course promised that he'd help everyone. Diego was proud of his father, but at the same time he couldn't help but worry. He knew that they couldn't keep sharing their crops forever and sooner or later they'd have to say no or see the de la Vega estate in ruins. Diego honestly didn't know which would hurt his father more.
The most frustrating part was that he didn't know what he could do about the situation. Raymond's tax seemed legit, even if it was morally wrong. Diego's heart bled for the poor farmers, but he was hesitant to go against the army when they were following the king's orders. That would just make him a common bandit, not a warrior of justice.
A sudden knock at the door startled them from their dark thoughts. When Diego went to open the door, he saw that a group of men was gathered at their front yard.
"Yes, is there something I can do?" he asked.
"We want to talk to your father," one of the men said.
Alejandro had come to see what was going on, and he gestured for Diego to open the door wider. "What can I do for you?" he asked as the men entered.
"We have something we want to discuss with you."
"Then please come to the dining hall," Alejandro said.
"We would like to speak to you in private," the man said when he noticed that Diego was following the group.
Diego suddenly felt everyone's eyes on him. The brief silence that followed the man's words was almost painful, and he shifted uneasily on his feet.
"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to my son, too," Alejandro said.
The men shared uneasy glances before one of them found the courage to speak. "No offence, Don Alejandro, but what we want to discuss is only for men of certain type. Your son has... I mean, we don't think he'd be particularly interested in this topic," he said with hesitation.
Diego saw fire flare up in his father's eyes and decided to step in before he'd do something he'd regret later.
"I think he's right, father," he said with a long yawn. "I had better get to bed anyway. Carrying all that wheat around today really wore me out."
Alejandro was silent for a moment. "Fine. If that's what you want."
Diego did his best to ignore the disappointment in his father's voice. It had to be like this, he told himself as he was climbing up the stairs. He heard the men move into the dining hall and take chairs for themselves. Muffled sounds of their conversation reached his ears, but it was impossible to make out what they were saying.
Bernard popped his head out from behind the corner.
"Diego," he whispered. "Are we ready to go?"
"Go get dressed. I'll be there soon," Diego said. He went to one of the empty guestrooms that were right above the dining hall. The reason they rarely let any guests stay there was that the floor had been damaged in an unfortunate incident when Diego's cousin had visited them. There wasn't a hole in it, but almost. Alejandro had asked Diego to fix it countless times, but now Diego was glad for his lazy act.
He closed the door and knelt at the centre of the room. With care, he removed the wooden panelling they had put there to cover the damage. It was enough for him to hear what was being said in the room below.
"This is insanity, Ricardo," Alejandro said.
"It's the only way. There are many families who won't have enough left to eat if we do nothing," one of the men replied.
"Those of us who have enough can help the others," Alejandro said.
"I heard what you've been doing today, and I'm sure everyone is grateful. But giving food to the poor won't solve the problem. The army is just going to come up with another reason to take everything away from them. Raymond must be stopped," Ricardo said.
"But to attack the army and steal the wheat back is a suicide! Even if you succeed, don't you think the army will notice when you give the wheat to the farmers?" Alejandro asked.
"We can give it back in small doses. And who would tell the army?"
There was a brief silence, and Diego held his breath. Earlier that day, he would have bet his life on that his father would never go along with something as radical as this, but he felt a little doubtful now. The frustration and sorrow on Alejandro's face as more people came to ask for his help had been almost too much for Diego to bear. If he was pushed to the corner, maybe his father would get involved with rebels. The mere thought made Diego frown nervously.
"Why have you come to me with these plans?" Alejandro asked.
"You're a respected man in the area, and we know we can trust you. We'd like to hide the wheat on your lands," Ricardo said.
"You're asking me to risk not just my life but the life of my son and friends," Alejandro said in a grave voice.
"Raymond won't dare to inspect the de la Vega family too closely because of your connections with the king. And if the wheat is found, I give my word that I'll come forward and claim I hid it there without your knowledge."
Diego could imagine his father shaking his head at that before he said, "You know I'd never ask anyone to cover for me. It's just that I don't like this idea. It puts too many great men into needless danger."
"We're all willing to risk our lives. Someone has to stop the army."
"Zorro is already doing a good job at that," Alejandro pointed out.
"But he's just one man. Even he can't be everywhere, and he can't fight all of our battles for us. We have to do something ourselves and not rely on a masked bandit to help us every time something goes wrong!" Ricardo said, raising his voice for the first time during the conversation.
"Zorro is more than a bandit," Alejandro said with such force in his voice that it startled even Diego.
"I know, but that doesn't change my stance. I think the people should learn to fight their own battles," Ricardo said. It sounded like his anger had subsided as quickly as it had flared, and he had an almost apologetic tone in his voice as he continued, "But we're getting off topic. All I need to know is whether you'll let us hide the wheat on your land."
Alejandro sighed. "Fine, but I don't want anything else to do with this."
"I thank you, Don Alejandro. I won't forget this."
"I'm only doing this to make sure you don't get caught if you get away with your foolish idea. I would be much happier if you forgot about this and went back home to your families," Alejandro said.
"We will, but we'll do it as proud men," Ricardo said.
The men exchanged a few more words. Alejandro tried to get the others to give up their plans, but he soon realised that it was a futile attempt. He said goodbye to Ricardo and his friends and walked them to the front door to see them out.
Diego frowned as he thought about what he had just heard. His father was now involved with rebellious activities. No matter how small his contribution was, Diego knew that Raymond wouldn't have mercy on him if he was caught. Zorro's fight against the tyranny of the army suddenly felt more personal than ever before.
He put the panel back into its place and slipped out of the room. He crept past the corner, careful to make no noise so that neither his father nor Maria would notice where he had been. He didn't dare to sigh in relief until he was in his secret chambers and had secured the door behind him.
Diego leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling tired. He wished his father hadn't said yes to the men. One reason why Diego had become Zorro in the first place was that he wanted to keep his loved ones safe. What his father was doing was right, and Diego knew he would have said yes in his place, too. However, that didn't stop him from feeling a chill inside his chest when he even thought about the danger his father was now in.
"Diego, are you coming?" Bernard asked, snapping Diego back to reality. When he opened his eyes, he saw his friend had already put on his costume and was staring at him with impatience in his green eyes.
"In a minute. Sorry you had to wait."
"Are you alright?" Bernard asked.
"What, me? Of course. Come on, let's hurry." Diego decided he didn't want to tell Bernard about his father's decision. He knew Bernard would be angry with him, but it was the right thing to do. The less the boy had to worry about, the better.
Bernard frowned doubtfully. "You look like there's something wrong."
"Nah, you're imagining it. I'm just worried about all those people who can't pay the new tax," Diego said, forcing a smile on his face.
"Oh, right. I wish there was something we could do about that," Bernard said. He pondered something for a while, then turned to look up at Diego with hopeful eyes. "Do you think we could steal some of the wheat back and give it to the people?"
"First we have to find out if Raymond has real orders from the king or if this is yet another plot of his," Diego said. He picked up his cape and put it on. The familiar weight of the garment usually felt comforting on his shoulders, but tonight it was heavier than he remembered.
"What does it matter? The people are being treated unfairly in any case," Bernard said.
"Zorro doesn't fight against the king," Diego pointed out.
"Why not? If the king's orders are hurting people, then I think -"
"The king may not know what is going on here. I'm sure Raymond has told him the people here can easily pay the tax and are just lazy and rebellious. It's Zorro's job to make sure people like Raymond are not in power so that the king will get truthful information about this land," Diego said. The purpose of his words was not only to convince Bernard. He needed to believe in them, too. Fighting against the army was difficult enough, but if even the king turned out to be an enemy, he didn't know if he could keep up with his fight for justice.
He noticed the displeased expression on Bernard's face and chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm sure this is all Raymond's doing. Everything will be alright again in no time."
As the two of them rode into the night, Zorro made quick plans for the following day. He didn't know when or where the rebels were going to attack the army, but he might be able to get some information about the troops' movements if he bought Sergeant Gonzales something to drink. Then he'd find Bernard something to do so that he wouldn't get involved.
Zorro glanced to his side where Little Zorro was riding. Despite his worries about his father and his friend's safety, seeing the determined enthusiasm on his companion's face made him feel a little more relaxed and hopeful about the future. They had been doing just fine until now; they'd all make it to the end.
Gabriel inspected the men who were sitting on horseback before him. He had picked all of them personally based on their past performance in the army. While he wouldn't say that he trusted them, he knew he could count on them being competent and not talking about this mission to anyone. Each of these men had taken part in Raymond's plots in the past, and they all had much to lose should the truth about the commander ever come to light.
Pleased with what he was seeing, he gave the command to start moving. It was the middle of the day, but he wasn't worried. There was only one man stupid enough to attack an army transport that was this heavily guarded, and Gabriel was prepared for that. The wheat was loaded on three different wagons, each of which carried three soldiers armed with muskets. Even if Zorro brought his sidekick with him and even if they were successful, they'd never get all of the wheat.
Not that Gabriel was planning on letting them have any of it. Transporting the wheat to the secret warehouse in the forest was too important. Don Dias was arriving in San Tasco that very day to inspect the merchandise and all the wheat had to be secured by the evening.
If anyone were to ask, the official explanation for this transport was that they were suspecting Zorro was going to attack the barracks and set the wheat on fire. It was therefore for the best to take it elsewhere under the pretence that they were clearing away old junk.
He was riding in the lead, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. This was his chance to get back to Raymond's graces, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers. This mission would be perfect.
As they entered the forest, he took a better hold of the reins and tried to ignore the ache in his shoulder. He had been hoping that he was just out of practice and that the pain would disappear when he got used to his duties again, but so far he hadn't been that lucky. Quite the contrary. The pain flared up whenever he lifted his arm in a certain angle, and he still hadn't got rid of if the numb and clumsy feeling. He hadn't practised sword fighting with anyone because his ego wouldn't let him do it unless he was sure he'd win. If his shoulder didn't get better soon, he'd have to go to Dr. Timothy and ask him what was wrong.
In retrospect, maybe he should have listened to the doctor and asked Raymond if he could have one more month off. He wanted nothing more than to be able to serve in the army again, but not at the price of his health. If it truly was a question of choosing between his shoulder and whether their operations –
A loud bang from his right snapped him back to reality. Something zipped at the tree right beside him, and for a brief moment he got a horrible sense of déjà vu of being shot at. His horse let out a nervous neigh and tried to jump aside, but Gabriel pulled at the reins and kept the animal in control.
"Careful!" he yelled at the men. One quick glance at them told him that nobody had been hit and that everyone had their weapons ready. Confident that his men could take care of themselves for a moment, Gabriel turned to scan the trees around them. He couldn't see anyone, and he swore under his breath. Whoever was attacking them had a clear view of them, but they had no idea where to shoot.
"Get down and take cover!" he shouted. He quickly followed his own advice and jumped from his horse. He grabbed the reins and pulled the animal behind a large tree with him. It was better to take the horse with him as a shield against the musket balls than let it be shot in plain sight on the road.
The wagons with the wheat had to remain on the road, but his men had thought quickly and had taken away the horses. Now nobody could approach the wheat without being shot at. Even if someone made it through, they couldn't take the wheat away.
For a moment, everything was quiet safe for the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Gabriel tried to spot their enemy in the woods, but they were too well hidden – if they even were there anymore. Maybe the failure of their surprise attack had scared them off.
"You there," he said to a soldier who was hiding behind the tree next to him. "Give me your hat and your jacket."
"I'm sorry, sir?" the soldier asked in confusion.
"Now or I'll kill you before the rebels have the chance!" Gabriel snapped.
The poor soldier immediately took off his hat and jacket and handed them over. Gabriel weighed them in his hands and picked up a long stick from the ground. He put the clothes on it and threw it against one of the wagons on the road.
There was a loud shot from a musket, and a ball took off a chunk of the wagon where the clothes had been. Gabriel grimaced in thought. The enemy was still there, and they were either nervous or amateurs, maybe both.
They didn't have a clear view of anything but the road where the wheat was. Gabriel frowned. It was a standoff until either side was willing to take a risk and reveal themselves He felt his chest burn in frustrated anger at whoever had decided to attack them. If they had at least done it on open ground, they could have fought back. Having to hide like this without making a move was unbearable!
"Lieutenant, what are we going to do?" one of the soldiers asked.
"You aren't doing anything until I give an order!" Gabriel snapped. He racked his brain as he tried to come up with a good strategy, but situations like this weren't his strong point. He could have led a good open attack and crushed their enemy, but he didn't have the patience or cunning for stealth.
Thankfully, the decision was taken off his hands. Just as he was about to give the order to shoot blindly into the woods, three men jumped down from the trees on the opposite side of the road.
"There they are!" a soldier blurted out and fired his musket. He hit the leftmost man on his side, and the man fell back with a yell and didn't get back up. Gabriel caught a glimpse of the gaping wound the musket ball had caused and knew that the enemy numbers had just gone down with one.
The other soldiers readied their muskets and fired, but they were a fraction of a second too slow. The other two men reached them and kicked the weapons from their hands, forcing them to draw their swords. Gabriel did the same, wincing at the sharp pain of the sudden movement but quickly pushing it out of his mind when more masked men emerged from the other side of the road.
One glance at the masked rebels told him that these men were nothing but peasants. His guess was confirmed when he locked blades with one of them; the man's movements were clumsy, and he handled his sword like he had never before had one in his hand. Defeating him took only one well-aimed strike – there was a clang and the man's sword flew into the bushes. For a split second, the rebel stared at him with wide eyes, but then he made a mad dash deeper into the forest.
Gabriel couldn't be bothered to give chase. He turned around to see how the battle was going. There were many more rebels now, and everyone was fighting with swords. The battle had moved to the road because there wasn't enough room for proper duels in the forest. If there were any more rebels in the woods, they weren't shooting out of fear of hitting their comrades. For that same reason, all the soldiers had also put down their muskets.
His men were faring well against the rebels, and Gabriel allowed himself a smirk as he went to join them on the road. It didn't look like his men had managed to kill anyone after the very first man, but all the rebels carried wounds. Some looked like they would collapse at any moment.
He spotted a young man dragging a horse from the forest and trying to place the animal before one of the wagons. He was bleeding from a cut to his cheek, but he had a determined frown on his face. Gabriel snorted; it would be fun to show that insolent idiot what happened to those who stood in the army's way.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked as he approached the man.
The rebel almost dropped the reins when he realised who was talking to him. Panic flashed in his eyes, but he refused to let go of the horse and take out his sword.
"You have to give this wheat back to us. It's ours," he said. To his credit, his voice didn't break.
Gabriel chuckled. "So, you think it's beneath you to pay taxes to the king? I shouldn't expect anything else from scum like you."
"This isn't going to the king! You stole it from us!" the young man insisted. "I don't know what you plan to do with it, but -"
"That's enough," Gabriel said and pointed the tip of his sword at the man's chest. For a moment, he considered whether to arrest him or kill him on the spot. It wouldn't matter in the long run since Raymond always sentenced all captured rebels to death anyway. Gabriel suspected the commander enjoyed watching others suffer. He didn't, but he had been idle for so long that it was very tempting to go through with it.
"Kill me if you want to. I won't budge," the man said.
Gabriel made a face. What an idiot. Well, if that was what he wanted, then –
"Stop!"
Gabriel froze just as he was about to shove his blade into the young man's side. He turned to look and saw another man striding towards them. He was moving with long steps and had his sword in his hand. Gabriel immediately lost interest in the fool before him and turned around to face the newcomer.
He eyed the man carefully. The mask on his face was hiding most of his features, but Gabriel wasn't even interested in them. Peasants were irrelevant to him, so he doubted he would have recognised the man even if his face had been visible. His posture and the way he was holding his sword were far more important. He had a self-confident and calm air around him; he had clearly been properly trained in how to handle a sword.
"I take it you're the leader of this pathetic group," Gabriel said.
"I seem to find myself in that position, yes," the man said. He had a low, rumbling voice that somehow sounded calm and determined at the same time.
Gabriel smirked. "Not for long. I don't care about these peasants, but I can't let the leader get away."
"And I can't let the army rob these people of everything they've been working for!" the rebel responded. Even as he spoke, he drew back his sword and charged at Gabriel with a slash aimed at his side.
Gabriel brought down his blade to block the attack. The impact of the blow surprised him, and he looked at his opponent with more care. So, not only did he have a good technique, but he was as strong as an ox, too. No matter. Gabriel knew he was better. He retreated one step to prepare his attack. His enemy was ready and locked blades with him before he could draw blood.
Gabriel winced as the blow sent a sharp jolt of pain up his arm, and for a moment he thought he could no longer feel his fingers. He staggered back with a groan and brought his left hand up to his right shoulder. What the hell was this? He struggled not to let his sudden weakness show, but his arm was half numb, and he could barely control it.
His opponent had noticed this, too. He didn't try to advance after Gabriel but kept his distance instead, observing the lieutenant with eyes full of suspicion.
"What games are you playing?" he asked.
Gabriel didn't reply. Feeling was slowly returning to his arm, but it brought pain along with it. His shoulder hadn't hurt like this since he had been shot. It was almost like the wound had reappeared. He suddenly felt dizzy.
"Give up the wheat and make this easy," the rebel leader said.
"Never," Gabriel growled.
He ignored the protests of his shoulder and raised his sword for another attack. He grimaced at how clumsy it felt and wasn't surprised when his opponent blocked it with ease. Before Gabriel could react, the rebel leader twisted his sword and forced Gabriel's arm back into the position that had driven him off-balance a moment ago. The sharp pain returned at once, making little spots of light dance before his eyes.
Gabriel tried to retreat again, but his opponent was prepared for that. The man forced Gabriel's blade to his side with a blow that made the right side of his body burn with sudden pain. He felt his sword slip from his fingers and watched in horror how it fell to the ground. He could only stare at it in stunned surprise. Everything else was only a blur to him.
"How about it, Lieutenant?"
Gabriel turned his eyes away from the ground and saw that his opponent had the tip of his sword pointed at him.
"What?" he asked. What the hell was going on?
"Give us the wheat!" the man replied. When Gabriel didn't say anything right away, he turned to address the soldiers. "Throw away your swords or you'll have to go back home without your lieutenant!"
"What should we do, sir?" one of the soldiers asked.
Gabriel couldn't find it in him to answer. His shoulder was throbbing in pain, but he barely noticed that. Much worse was the shock of seeing his blade fall from his numb fingers without him being able to do anything about it. This couldn't be real. Everyone knew he was brilliant with a sword. Something like this couldn't happen to him.
He was barely aware of his soldiers standing there and waiting for instructions from him. When none came, one of them took the initiative and threw away his sword. The others followed his example.
"Good. Your men are wiser than you," the rebel leader said. He nodded at his men. "Take some horses and tie them in front of the wagons-"
"Right away."
The soldiers could do nothing but watch how the rebels loaded their dead and wounded into the wagons and prepared to leave. When everything was done, the leader climbed on the perch of the first wagon.
"I thank you, Lieutenant," he said with a nod.
This finally snapped Gabriel from his stupor. "Wait!" he called out. "You can't do this!"
The rebel leader regarded him with a grim look in his eyes. "How often I've heard some poor farmer say that when the army has taken away everything he and his family had," he mused. "We can do this and we will. Tell your commander that his reign of terror is coming to its end."
With that, he gave the horses a smack. The wagons, the wheat and the rebels were gone in no time.
The silence that followed was so intense that at first nobody knew what to say. The soldiers kept glancing at each other, urging someone to be brave and say something. Finally, one of them, the same one who had been the first to throw his sword away, stepped forwards.
"Are we going after them, sir?" he asked.
"No," Gabriel said.
"But what about -"
"I said no, you idiot!"
Gabriel's mind was a mess. He could barely understand what had happened. He felt his face burn in anger and humiliation. How dare those... those peasants do this to him? Since when did spineless fools have the courage to act like that? And how could he be so careless and let it happen? He was better than this! He was the best swordsman in all of California! He was even better than Zorro! To experience such an embarrassing defeat was unbearable. He could take losing to Zorro because despite his hatred for him, Gabriel could appreciate his exceptional skill. Zorro was the only one who gave him any challenge. This rebel leader had been entirely beneath him. He should have won easily! And he would have if it hadn't been for his damn shoulder!
This thought suddenly made Gabriel aware of the burn that was radiating from his shoulder down to his fingertips. He grabbed his elbow and pressed it against his chest in an attempt to ease the pain, but the movement only made the agony flare up. He groaned and closed his eyes. Something was wrong with him.
"Sir, are you alright?" one of the soldiers asked.
"What are you just standing there? Pick up your swords and find your horses!" Gabriel barked.
He tried to straighten his thoughts. He could worry about his arm later, but for now he had to appear competent before his men and decide what to do about this mess. It was clear to him that there was no point in going after the rebels. They had a head start and had no doubt planned a hiding place somewhere. Over half of his men had let their horses get away in the commotion, and it would take a while before they were all on horseback again.
He was so angry and humiliated that he felt his whole body tremble. How had he let this happen? He hadn't even imagined that an untrained group of peasants could have defeated them like this. Everything was ruined! They had lost all of the wheat. Gabriel felt his breath get caught in his throat when he realised how angry Raymond would be. This wasn't just a simple loss to Zorro. One of their largest operations in recent months had turned into a complete disaster within half an hour.
"We're all ready, sir," one of the soldiers said.
Gabriel nodded. "We're returning to the barracks."
The soldiers moved slowly, their faces hesitant and crushed. This failure had cost all of them some extra money, and they were all afraid of what would happen to them now. Had it been possible, Gabriel would have gladly put all the blame on them, but he knew who Raymond would get angry at.
This time he had no excuse to offer to the commander. He could only hope that he'd survive whatever punishment Raymond saw fit for him.
Zorro stopped Viento by the road in the woods as a curious feeling overcame him. He couldn't see anything, but the slightest tensing of Viento's muscles told him that the horse was worried. Zorro spent a moment listening to the leaves swaying in the wind, but there was nothing suspicious.
"Wait here," he said to the horse and got to the ground. He pulled his cape over his chest and retreated behind a tree to wait. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the clouds in the sky moved from over the sun, letting more light into the woods.
A sudden glint in the woods caught Zorro's eye. There! Sunlight on someone's musket!
Zorro knew he had to be careful. Whoever was hiding in the woods had been there before him, so they had most likely noticed him already. He couldn't guess why they hadn't shot him. He doubted friends would keep their presence hidden from him. Well, he supposed he had better thank these men for their courtesy.
His sword made no sound as he unsheathed it. With a couple of swift steps, he had leapt behind another tree. There he had a much better view of the men. They were hiding behind boulders and trees so that they couldn't be seen from the road.
Soldiers, Zorro realised with some surprise. What was going on? Earlier that day, he had had some wine with Sergeant Gonzales and got him to reveal when Gabriel and some men were transporting wheat to a secure location in the woods. He knew the rebels who had contacted his father would attack them, and he had decided to keep an eye on things in case they needed help. Gonzales had made no mention of there being more soldiers in the woods. And what were these men even doing here?
"That was Zorro. What should we do?" one of the soldiers was whispering to his companion.
"Never mind him. He can't have seen us. We have our orders," the other man said.
"But it's so frustrating! I could have shot him just now."
"And then the commander would have had you hanged for ruining his plan!"
Zorro scanned the woods. He could spot five soldiers in total. It should be easy enough, especially now that he had the trees and the shadows on his side. Zorro allowed himself a mischievous smile. Maybe he'd add a little bit to the legend and make sure at least these soldiers would be afraid to face him again.
"What's your business here in the woods?" he asked, not moving from his hiding place.
The soldiers nearly jumped out of their skins. They took better holds of their swords and muskets and glanced around, but Zorro knew they would never spot him until he wanted so.
"Zorro! He's here!"
"I told you I should have shot him!"
"Shut up! If we hurry, we can kill him before it's too late! Then we'll still have time to -"
The soldier was cut off when Zorro dashed from the shadowy woods and gave him a slash with his sword. It ripped through his uniform and gave him a scratch, but it was barely deep enough to draw blood. Still, it made the soldier yell in surprise and pain. His companion readied his sword and prepared for an attack, but Zorro was gone so fast that all they could claim to have seen was a black blur.
Zorro repeated his question, but when he still got no answer, he struck again. This time one of the soldiers lost his hat and some of his hair. It was enough for the whole group. Before Zorro could have another word, all soldiers were on the run and hurried out of the woods.
"I don't think I was that scary," Zorro muttered. He hadn't meant to send the soldiers fleeing. Now he couldn't ask them what was going on.
He was just thinking about following them when rumble from the road caught his attention. He hurried through the woods just in time to see a wagon and several horses go past him. It was the rebels, he realised. They had surprised Gabriel and the others and taken back the wheat, just as they had said.
Those other soldiers must have known they were coming, he thought with a frown. That meant Raymond had known the rebels would strike. Why hadn't he taken more precautions to stop their attack, then? What could Raymond hope to achieve with an ambush like this?
Worried and confused, Zorro returned to Viento. Things suddenly made very little sense.