NOTE BY THE ACCOUNT HOLDER: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!
WRITTEN BY KARLA GREGORY
BOOK 2
Chapter 21 – The Return to Los Angeles
Santiago stood on the balcony in front of his office. Leaning on the railing, he looked out over the plaza and noted with pleasure the greater number of people gathered there than was customary. He did not have to wonder why. After all, he was the cause of it. He smiled. Word had gotten around that Diego de la Vega, accused traitor, was due to arrive in the pueblo at any time. Friends of the family, the curious, and even the fearful were gathered to witness the event. Many were still shocked by the idea that Diego could be charged with such a crime and they even went so far as to deny his guilt on such charges. However, those voices seemed to be few and far between. Most of those with whom Lozano had spoken were afraid the charges might be true and whispered among themselves at the various oddities in the younger de la Vega's life which set him apart from most men of his age and class. They spoke of his odd penchant for being involved in one way or another in a great many of the goings on in the pueblo even though he claimed to be interested only in his books and music. Lozano reported that he even heard people speculating as to why Diego had recently been gone so often and why he was sometimes late when returning from his assignments. They thought he must have been meeting with Zorro. Santiago laughed when he heard this. Everything was going just as he planned it.
At the moment, Lozano was posted a mile out of the pueblo watching for Hidalgo and his prisoners. When he rode into the plaza, Santiago would have his signal that they were near. In the meantime, Uresti was to have moved back to his camp in the hills just above Los Angeles until he was needed. Santiago would send Lozano out to deliver a message to him. He wanted no mistakes. Gracilia's death was an addition to his careful plans and he wanted to make absolutely sure Uresti understood what he wanted. His attention was drawn to the plaza as Lozano rode in at a leisurely pace. The merchant tipped his hat to Santiago as he continued on to his shop, where he dismounted.
It was time. Santiago settled his hat securely on his head, tugged at his coat and adjusted his sword. Then he headed down the stairs and out into the plaza. By the time he had reached the well in the middle of the plaza, he saw he was the center of attention. Everyone had turned to look at him, and some were pointing as they talked among themselves. Conscious of this, Santiago squared his shoulders and walked purposefully to the cuartel. As he entered the gates, he knew the people had gathered in his wake, curious to know what he was going to do. This was good.
"Sergeant Garcia," he called out to the portly officer. "Is everything ready?"
"Oh, sí, Your Excellency," said Garcia, saluting. "Everything is exactly as you ordered it."
"Good," said Santiago, eyeing the cells which had been freshly scrubbed and provided with new mattress pads for the beds. He was going to prosecute the prisoners, it was true, but again he wished to demonstrate what an honorable man he was. The prisoners would have the best accommodations the pueblo could boast. He knew well that the best form of deception was in the details. Details, always details. And speaking of details, he noticed Garcia seemed unhappy. "What is the problem, Sergeant?" he asked.
Garcia hesitated before he answered, as if unsure of just what he wanted to say. "Magistrado," he began. "I just cannot understand why Don Diego would do such a thing. I would never have believed it. And now I must have him in my jail and then the trial and then . . . ." He trailed off as he shook his head. "He has been a good friend to me. I just cannot believe it."
Santiago said, "Sergeant, I can appreciate your problem. But as a soldier of the King you will do your duty, no? Even as I must do my duty and prosecute a man who was my very own assistant, you will do your duty and imprison him in your jail. And if it should come to it, you will be required to carry out his execution."
Garcia clasped his hands in front of him and tried not to wring them. He swallowed. "Execution?" he managed to get out.
"Sí, Sergeant, the penalty for treason is death," said Santiago. "If Diego is convicted of treason, he will hang."
"And I will have to . . . ." Here Garcia made a motion around his neck and then pulled up on an imaginary rope to simulate hanging.
"Yes, Sergeant," said Santiago in a solemn tone.
Garcia clapped a hand over his mouth as he digested this. After a moment, he lowered it. "Could not Capitán Hidalgo carry out the sentence?" inquired Garcia in a small voice. He was looking for anyway out of the situation. "He will be here for the trial. He outranks me and . . . ."
"No, Sergeant Garcia," said Santiago. "You are the acting commandanté for this post and it is your duty to carry out any sentence handed down by the court. Capitán Hidalgo will return to Santa Barbara at the earliest moment he is not needed here. I am sure you understand, Sergeant," he continued. "We all have our duty to the King. Yours is to follow orders. If you do not do so, you yourself will be accused of insubordination at the least and possibly with treason just like young de la Vega. You don't want that do you?"
"Oh, no, Your Excellency," stammered Garcia. "I am a loyal officer in the army of the King!"
"I know that, Sergeant," said Santiago with confidence. "I know I can depend upon you to carry out the lawful orders of the court. I just wanted to make sure you understand what may be required of you. In order to see that justice is served, we ourselves must do things we would rather not do. And we do them out of loyalty to the laws of the King and because it is the right thing to do. Do you not agree?"
Sergeant Garcia nodded sadly. "Sí, Your Excellency."
"Good," said Santiago. "Now go and get your lancers assembled. Capitán Hidalgo will be arriving at any moment and I want your lancers to control the crowds which are gathering in the plaza. The prisoners must be protected until the trial. I want nothing to happen to them. Their safety is your responsibility. Understood?"
Garcia saluted, and said, "Sí, Your Excellency." He turned and began ordering his men to assemble near the cuartel gates. He was no more happy about what he had to do than he was before, but he was determined to do his duty as a loyal officer in the King's army. He had the example of the Magistrado to follow. If he could do what he must do, then Garcia could do what he was ordered to do. After all, he was merely obeying orders given by someone else. He thought about the Magistrado and was glad he served under such a man. In the old days, Capitán Monastario would have kicked him in the rear and told him to get on with his job. But Señor Santiago always took the time to explain things to him and speak to him as if he were not stupid. That was what made him such a great Magistrado.
His attention was drawn outside the cuartel, as the crowd, which had gathered near the gates, surged away towards something he could not see. He walked over and looked out of the gates in time to see the cart holding Diego de la Vega and his servant enter the plaza accompanied by the escort of soldiers from Santa Barbara. The man he took to be Capitán Hidalgo was riding at the head of the little procession. He looked then at Don Diego and his mozo. The prisoners were standing up in the field cart, holding onto the waist high railings as the cart bumped along the roadway. Sergeant Garcia was shocked that his friend should be treated in this manner. He was, after all, a member of the upper class and deserved better than this. He gave Hidalgo a disapproving look. Garcia was also somewhat shocked at Diego's rough appearance. It was clear Diego had not shaved in several days and his clothes were dusty and wrinkled. This was not at all like the Don Diego he knew. He was always fresh and clean shaven. Garcia shook his head sadly. But right now he had a job to do. He could see that the people were starting to crowd around the cart as they tried to get close to the prisoners. "Lancers!" he called out. "Follow me!" In a running trot, he led his men across the plaza and ordered them to hold the people back. Despite his feelings about the man, he nevertheless saluted Capitán Hidalgo, who returned the gesture and continued toward the cuartel where the Magistrado was waiting just within the gates.
Diego looked down upon the faces of the people as they began to crowd around the cart carrying both Bernardo and himself. He saw many familiar faces in the crowd. Tío, the innkeeper and his barmaid, Maria. Don Carlos and Don Tomas and some others standing back from the crowd a pace, looking very solemn. Franco Barbarosa and his daughter. Eugenio, the blacksmith's son and little Paco. There were peons, Indians and vaqueros. Most of the merchants had come out of their shops to join those gathered around him. People from all walks of life were gathered here to see Deigo de la Vega, accused traitor, delivered to the jail in the cuartel. But of his father, there was no sign. This was not totally unexpected, but it was disappointing. Right now, however, he would not acknowledge his feelings on that subject. He sized up the mood of the people who were here. Those in Santa Barbara had been frightened and angry. The citizens living there had, thus far, suffered the most under the depredations of the false Zorro. They were ready to see anyone connected with the outlaw brought to justice. Here in Los Angeles, he saw some friendly faces, but he also saw the questions in their eyes. Many were here just out of curiosity, but there were some who had already made up their minds about the two prisoners; the dour expression on the face of Don Carlos, for example.
At the moment, Diego felt curiously detached. It might be supposed that he would at least be ashamed or embarrassed by being brought in chains to the pueblo in the back of a field cart, but for now at least, it did not seem to touch him. During the long ride into the pueblo from Santa Barbara, he had exhausted his ability to feel much of anything. There were only so many times one could berate one's self for falling into the Magistrado's trap and worry one's self about the consequences. He had even exhausted his emotions concerning his inability to explain himself to his father without endangering the elder de la Vega's life. The faint sadness he felt at his father's absence from the pueblo was bittersweet. At least Don Alejandro would not have to witness his son being brought to jail in this manner. Diego rode along with his head up, meeting the eyes of those around him. Bernardo had been watching him and he followed Diego's example. They would gather all the dignity they had to themselves and not let Santiago see them defeated. As a matter of fact, Diego smiled at Sergeant Garcia who was pacing alongside the cart as it pulled into the cuartel and came to a halt near the jail.
"Sergeant!" he said. "It is good to see you again." When all else was in doubt, Diego could still fall back upon the persona he had developed upon his return from Spain. This was the Diego everyone still expected to see and he had an idea that it would perplex Santiago to see him acting this way. It was the persona he had been trying so hard to leave behind, but since he could not take Santiago head on, he could try and keep him puzzled. It might be the only form of satisfaction he would carry to his grave.
He found he could be somewhat amused when he heard Sergeant Garcia say with a smile, "It is good to see you too, Don Diego! What I mean is, . . . ." Garcia paused and looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"Thank you for this splendid reception," said Diego referring to the soldiers and the crowds.
"Graciás, Don Diego," said Garcia, beaming as if it were all his own idea. Then he frowned as he became confused by Diego's words. "But Don Diego, . . . ." he trailed off.
He was rescued as Santiago walked over. "Sergeant. Please do not stand here making conversation with our prisoners. See that they are taken to their cells immediately."
Diego kept a pleasant look on his face and was satisfied to see the Magistrado peering up at him curiously.
"Sí, Magistrado," said Garcia saluting. He gestured at two of the lancers who took down the rails at the end of the cart and set them aside. "Don Diego, if you please?" Garcia said as he indicated the cells.
Diego walked to the back of the cart and took the long step down to the ground. He walked past Santiago and took up his position in the cell assigned to him, turning to face the Magistrado and the soldiers. He held out his handcuffed hands and waited expectantly.
Never taking his eyes from Diego's, Santiago said, "Sergeant, you may get the keys from Capitán Hidalgo and remove the handcuffs." It was clear to Diego that the Magistrado was trying to assess the attitude of his prisoner and something was not adding up. Diego held his eyes and let a small smile find its way to his face. He was satisfied to see Santiago's eyes narrow.
Sergeant Garcia came back with the keys and said, "Don Diego?"
Diego held out his hands again and Garcia removed the cuffs. Diego rubbed his wrists appreciatively, but he continued to look at Santiago. "Thank you, Sergeant," he said.
Unsettled, but not knowing exactly why, Santiago decided it was time to move on. Turning to Garcia, he said, "Sergeant, you may put the servant in the other cell immediately. Post a guard. Then you will see to the billeting of the men who came with Capitán Hidalgo. Once that is done, you will report to me in my office."
"Sí, Your Excellency," Garcia acknowledged. He closed the door to Diego's cell and locked it. As Santiago walked over to where Capitán Hidalgo was waiting, Garcia walked around to the cart to speak to Bernardo. "Come down, Little One," he said, gesturing. Bernardo looked uncertain. "I want you to come down here and get into your nice, clean cell," Garcia said, trying to be nice. Bernardo looked puzzled and pointed to himself. Garcia nodded his head with exaggeration. "Yes, I am talking to you, Little One. Come down." He was becoming a little frustrated. "Come down!" he shouted impatiently. Bernardo shrank back in fear. Garcia sighed. Never had he been able to communicate with Don Diego's servant. He looked over at Diego for help. "Please, Don Diego. Could you help me? I need the little one to get into his cell." Bernardo looked from one man to the other.
"Of course, Sergeant," said Diego, smiling with appreciation for Bernardo's antics so his faithful mozo could see. From the doorway of his cell, he began making motions with his hands and soon Bernardo nodded. The servant went to the back of the cart and climbed down, walking directly into his cell. He turned around and held his hands out just as Diego had done, waiting expectantly.
Garcia just shook his head. He went and unlocked Bernardo's handcuffs and locked the cell door after he had stepped out. For the life of him, he would never understand how Don Diego made Bernardo understand. It was almost like magic.
If Bernardo had not been under the scrutiny of Santiago and Hidalgo, he would have taken the chance of looking at Diego to share his own amusement at the sergeant. But he schooled himself to play his part and kept his face carefully neutral.
Giving Bernardo one more glance, Sergeant Garcia turned to Diego. "If you will excuse me, Don Diego?" he said politely. "I have some things I must do now."
"Of course, Sergeant," Diego returned pleasantly. "Oh, I do wish to compliment you upon the condition of your jail. It is much nicer than the one in Santa Barbara. And I see you have replaced the mattress. That was very kind of you."
Sergeant Garcia smiled hugely. He so enjoyed getting compliments of any kind. "You are very welcome, Don Diego," he said. "But, it was the Magistrado's idea. He is very concerned that you should be treated well."
"He is?" said Diego, looking in Santiago's direction. Knowing the Magistrado had been listening, Diego bowed in acknowledgment to Santiago. He was rewarded by seeing Santiago and Hidalgo exchange looks. It was a small thing, but even small things were victories at this point.
"Sí, Don Diego, he is," said Garcia. "But now I must go." He walked away, calling all of Hidalgo's soldiers to come with him. Before he went into the barracks, he ordered Corporal Reyes to stand guard over the prisoners. Sighing, Reyes shouldered his musket and took up his post near the jail.
Santiago said, "Capitán Hidalgo, please come with me to my office." With one last look at the prisoners, he turned and walked out of the cuartel followed closely by Hidalgo. They had to make their way between the people still being held back by the lancers. Santiago was happy for them to be there. The more they looked, the more they would talk. Lozano would soon be going about spreading his stories of what had happened in Santa Barbara and stirring the people against Diego. The two of them soon made their way across the plaza and up into Santiago's office.
"May I offer you some wine, Capitán?" said Santiago as he removed his hat and tossed it on the desk.
"Sí, Graciás," said Hidalgo, also removing his hat and tucking his gloves into his belt. Santiago poured the wine and Hidalgo held up his glass in a toast. "To success," he said.
"Success," returned Santiago, as both men took a drink. Then he said, "Your trip from Santa Barbara was uneventful, I take it?"
"Oh, sí," said Hidalgo, enjoying the wine. "The prisoners gave us no problem. We had only to deal with Papa de la Vega for a few moments before setting out for Los Angeles."
"Papa de la Vega?" said Santiago somewhat startled. "He came to Santa Barbara? When?"
Hidalgo said, "He rode in sometime in the middle of the night and demanded to see his son. I made him wait until this morning." Seeing Santiago's look, he shrugged and said, "I was trying to sleep, Your Excellency. I had no orders from you concerning such a visit, so I told him to wait until morning."
"I should have guessed that he might do something like that," mused Santiago, sipping his wine. "He is very protective of Diego, just as I knew he would be. It is completely in character for him to charge off to Santa Barbara wanting to speak to his son in person. How did you handle it?"
"Señor de la Vega came to the garrison this morning and I allowed him to speak with his son." Hidalgo saw Santiago tense. Hidalgo continued, "After I had a word with the cub." He smiled as he saw Santiago relax. "Sí, I warned your former assistant deputy not to say anything I did not like, or his father might have an unfortunate accident before he could return home." Santiago nodded as Hidalgo continued. "Though the father pressed him hard, wanting to know the truth of the charges against him, young de la Vega revealed nothing. It seems the son will not do anything which will endanger his father and this was the proof. Young de la Vega was very upset at being forced into silence, but he had the good sense to follow orders. I was there the whole time and heard everything."
"And what was the father's reaction?" asked Santiago.
"Oh, he was angry, Your Excellency," said, Hidalgo with a smile. "He could not understand why his cub would say nothing. I think he begins to accept that the charges against his son may indeed be true." Chuckling, Hidalgo took another drink of wine. "He became angry and stormed out of the garrison. He got on his horse and rode hard along the road to Los Angeles. All he left behind was a cloud of dust." Hidalgo shrugged. "Then we loaded the prisoners in the cart and came here just as you ordered."
Santiago nodded and said, "Very good, Capitán. You handled the situation well." The wound in the elder de la Vega's heart was festering. This was to his purpose. He thoughtfully swirled the wine in his glass.
Hidalgo bowed to acknowledge the compliment given him. Then he noticed Santiago seemed preoccupied. "Is there something wrong, Magistrado?" he asked.
Santiago wrinkled his brow. He did not wish to acknowledge he was not in complete control of everything, but he was disturbed enough to air his doubts in front of Hidalgo. "I am not sure, Capitán. Everything is falling within my plans, but still there is something which troubles me, something I cannot put my finger upon." He paused thoughtfully. "I just do not know what that something is."
"Humph, it is probably that young de la Vega," said Hidalgo, taking another drink of his wine. "He almost seemed to be enjoying his accommodations in the jail. If you ask me, you are being too easy on him, Excellency. A man accused of treason does not need such luxury."
Santiago looked at Hidalgo. "You have put your finger on it, Capitán. De la Vega's reaction to his imprisonment has evolved since you put him in your jail in Santa Barbara. He does not react like a man who is going to die anytime soon." Santiago put down his glass and paced a few steps back and forth. Then he stopped. "From now on until the hanging, I want one of your special men to be on guard at the jail. Fuentes or Castillo. They are to report to me everything that goes on inside of that cuartel, whether it involves the prisoners or not." Hidalgo nodded. "We are too close to seeing de la Vega convicted in the trial to let the smallest thing slip by us. I do not know what, if anything, is going on with young de la Vega, but vigilance and attention to details will assure me of victory."
"Sí, Magistrado," said Hidalgo.
There was a knock at the door. "Come in," said Santiago.
The door opened and Sergeant Garcia came in. He saluted and said, "Sergeant Garcia reporting as ordered sir!"
"Very well, Sergeant, at ease." Garcia relaxed. Santiago continued. "Sergeant, I have new orders for you. You will give your quarters to Capitán Hidalgo until after the trial." Garcia looked at Hidalgo. "You will move your things into the barracks."
Garcia was not surprised at this turn of events. It was customary to give way to the ranking officer present. "Sí, Your Excellency," he said.
Santiago continued. "Sergeant, I am temporarily giving command of the cuartel to Capitán Hidalgo while he is here. I know you were the acting commandanté, but I feel this is for the best."
Garcia was disappointed and swallowed before he said, "Sí, Your Excellency."
"Good," said Santiago. "You will follow his orders as if they were my own. Capitán Hidalgo will see to the duty rosters and the posting of sentries and guards for the prisoners. He will also use his men, as well as yours, in order to patrol the area and keep order in the pueblo. We cannot be too careful. Who knows how Zorro might retaliate now that we have one of his operatives in our jail."
"Zorro retaliate?" said Garcia, scratching at his temple in a puzzled manner. "What is retaliate, Your Excellency?"
"Retaliate means that he might hope to stop the trial of Diego perhaps by burning some houses, robbing, or even possibly killing someone," said Santiago, as he gaged Garcia's reaction. "He could do such things hoping to scare us into setting young de la Vega free." Garcia clapped his hands over his heart as if to protect himself. Santiago continued, "I think it is possible he might even be bold enough to try an attack on the pueblo in order to get us to release Diego de la Vega. Who knows what he might try?"
Garcia shook his head sadly. "And Zorro used to be such a nice bandido," he said.
"Well, he is not a "nice bandido" now," said Santiago, forcefully. "He is a would-be usurper just like the Eagle, perhaps even worse." Garcia's eyes widened. "But just as we found one of his men working undercover, like Diego de la Vega, we will find the others, Sergeant. I have experience doing just this kind of work in Monterey and San Francisco. I promise you that one day we will have Zorro himself in your jail awaiting his appointment with the hangman's noose. Justice will be served."
Garcia drew himself up to attention. "Sí, Magistrado," he said. After all, who could not agree with the cause of justice?
"All right, Sergeant, you may go now," said Santiago dismissing him.
Garcia saluted and said, "Sí, Your Excellency." Then he left the office. He sighed to himself as he walked across the plaza. He'd had to give up his title of acting commandanté before and he was always saddened by it. The chance to be even an acting commandanté was a rare one and he could never be sure the title would be his again. But this time, as he thought about it, he would not be the one responsible for anything which went wrong. Not with Capitán Hidalgo in command. And it might let him off of the hook if a certain . . . hanging . . . was to take place. Capitán Hidalgo would have to be in charge of that also. That thought was much more pleasing, and he found he could accept his demotion in a much better humor after all.
