Unwilling to fall asleep just yet, having already had a good rest the two hours it took them to get to the windmill, Diego sat on its stairs, watching the sky, trying to guess the hour by their position and concluding it was still early. By the position of the Full Moon, it is probably just after one, he, eventually, decided. Not his normal bed hour, anyway. He looked towards the horses and realized De Soto had not come ridding his, thus he wondered if anyone would be concerned about him. Doubting the others had informed anyone about their plans, he proceeded to briefly wonder if either his father or the lancers had organized a search party by that time. He chuckled at the thought of the welcoming the Escalante brothers would get at their return to the tavern, and briefly considered faking a hangover so that Victoria might spend her day taking care of him.
About twenty minutes later, as Diego was deep in his thoughts, his eyes still studying the sky, De Soto woke up with an intense desire to relieve himself. He made an effort not to fall on top of anyone, as he crawled out of the windmill, and exited a little loudly, unaware there was someone outside. The caballero thought it was Felipe and turned at him grinning, but startled and got on his feet as he noticed the dark-haired Alcalde emerging instead, for a moment not even recognizing him. A few seconds later he was losing his battle with laughter.
"You don't look drunk!" De Soto noted. "And what is there so…amusing?"
"Well…I was drunk, but I just woke up. A few hours of sleep can do wonders. And I'm laughing because I've never before seen you with black hair!"
"Seen me…what?" Ignacio asked as he began studying his face, discovering all his hair had somehow turned black, his hands covering in ash as he touched it. "What is this?" he demanded to know.
"We all do strange things when we are drunk, Alcalde!" Diego replied. "Apparently, you have some hidden desire to be black-haired."
"You're saying I did this to myself? That is preposterous! I would remember!"
"How do you know you would? I barely remember anything after my first glass of rum!" Diego stated.
"You, perhaps…but I can hold my drinks!" De Soto bragged.
"Yes…Anyone can tell you do, Ignacio!" Diego mocked him, smiling again at his appearance.
The Alcalde frowned and, remembering why he had left the windmill, he headed around it to find a place where he would be able to pee in peace. When he returned, he passed by the caballero without a word and returned a few minutes later with four bottles of wine – all the remaining alcohol.
"Two for you and two for me!" De Soto stated, handing Diego one of the bottles. "I came to see you drunk, De la Vega, and I will see you drunk if it's the last thing I do!"
The caballero protested for a while but eventually took it, reluctantly yet confident that there was little chance for him to get inebriated with all the tea and tonic still in his body. As a precaution, he decided to also make sure to respect his limit.
De Soto encouraged him to drink and they spent about five minutes in silence, while they each finished their first bottle, both approaching the deed like some sort of competition. Diego won by ten seconds.
They began feeling the effects of the wine some five or ten minutes after that, as they were already on their second bottles.
"You know, De la Vega?" De Soto questioned. "I've always disliked you! I just did…You are everything I dislike…with your black hair and good-looks, and rich…loving father…I barely knew mine! But I don't dislike you so much anymore!"
"That's nice…I guess.." Diego replied, amused at the confession. "I never liked you much, either, Ignacio…At least, not since you arrived here."
"What did you think I'd be like?"
"What?"
"I heard your conversation earlier…conversations…I've eavesdropped…I am sneaky that way…learned it from Zorro. Don't tell Don Alejandro!"
"You listened in to my conversation with…my father…"
"And to the one with Senorita Escalante. But don't worry! I won't hang you or your family and friends! Promise! I don't really know many people I don't dislike so I can't go around executing them…well…except if you commit a crime, in which case I would have to...my duty, you see…So…How did you think I'd be?"
Diego tried his best to remember the entire conversation De Soto might have had overheard, wondering if anything that was said might have made him realize he was Zorro. The name of his alter ego did come up but the way his father had referred to him did not imply his connection to Diego. Of course, mentioning the fear of their entire family finding death at the end of a noose could have aroused suspicions, had that statement not been preceded by Don Alejandro's reminder that De Soto had tried to have him hanged with no trial or any due process.
"I know…if that's what you're wondering…I know your secret, De la Vega!" De Soto told him, seeing how the caballero was not saying anything.
Diego held his breath, his mind racing among various scenarios. "You know?"
"I know."
"So…what are you going to do about it?"
"Thank you!"
"Thank me?" Diego asked, puzzled at De Soto's words. He was pretty sure some attack was to follow, but none came.
"Exactly! If you hadn't destroyed that painting, my life would have probably been ruined. So, thank you!"
"Yes…" Diego let go of his anxiety. De Soto didn't know about him being Zorro. He knew about him having purposefully destroyed the portrait. "I thought you..."
"Deserve a second chance to become the man you thought I was…when I first arrived…How did you think I was?" De Soto was again getting drunker but his mind was still sharp enough to have a conversation.
Diego had stopped drinking after his first bottle – which was also his alcohol limit, or the maximum he could ingest without losing control over his own mouth and actions, as he had learned in Madrid - and, taking advantage of the Alcalde's cloudy eyes, he slowly proceeded in throwing away the rest of the wine when Ignacio wasn't looking, while pretending to be still taking a mouthful, from time to time. De Soto, though, was finishing his second bottle, the wine mixing with the remains of the tequila and the rum still in his blood.
"I thought you were astute enough to understand this is not Madrid and things are very different in the colonies." Diego answered the repeated question. "I also thought you would be a good leader, a man sympathetic to the problems of the poor. I remember telling Victoria that you were just what our pueblo needed: a man who would make tyranny and injustice a thing of the past. I must say…you did all you could to prove me wrong!"
"Yes…I did!...Why do you care so much about the poor?...You're rich. They don't affect you!" De Soto asked.
"And just because something doesn't affect us directly, it means we have to close our eyes to it?"
"I grew up poor and nobody cared…"
A few moments of silence followed.
"I'm sorry he died, you know?" De Soto found himself confessing. "I would have never believed it, but…for all the grief he caused me…I wished he was still alive…"
Diego wondered who was Ignacio talking about and his mind went to the only dead person he thought it could be.
"Gilberto?" He asked.
"No. Of course not him! He was terrible. Worse than me! Sorry he was your brother."
"Then who?"
"Zorro, of course!" De Soto explained. "Not everything is about you, and your family, Diego!"
The caballero grinned at the irony contained in that statement.
"I thought you hated him." He eventually uttered.
"I thought so, too. But, turns out, I was wrong. If he was alive, I wouldn't have been injured. He would have taken care of the bandits…of all the bandits. Mendoza was right. The man was worth an entire army all by himself. May I confess something to you?"
"I believe you already are." Diego pointed out.
"I think Zorro was the most incredible man I've ever met! Hated him for that…but I was better off when he was alive…Although, if he was still alive, I guess we wouldn't be here now…You wouldn't be marrying Victoria Escalante…he would…"
"Yes…I have to confess I am glad she chose me…"
"She didn't really have much of a choice after he died, did she? But you made a good decision…She's a passionate woman, that one. Can compensate for your lack of…But you have brains…I wish I had enlisted you when I had the chance…"
"Enlisted me?"
"Yes…Perhaps….Perhaps you could have found Zorro. Find something we were missing…somehow figure out who he was…Maybe I can enlist you now…If he is still alive we can find him…after the wedding…"
"He's an outlaw with a price on his head, Ignacio. If you'd find him…"
"I'd ask the Governor for a pardon. I tried already, but didn't feel like begging if the man truly is dead…if he's alive, it's different…"
"But…how about all that animosity between you two? Can you truly move on from that? You've spent over two years trying to catch and execute him."
"I'm glad I didn't. I wouldn't be alive if I had…You wouldn't be alive if I had…"
Diego again looked inquisitively towards him.
"Because I would have been dead, so I wouldn't have been able to shoot the Emissary…horrid fellow…why would anyone try to kill you? You're such a good man…caring about the poor…keeping vigil on me…putting my nose back…helping me impress the Governor…You're a true friend, De la Vega! No! You are the best friend I could have ever asked for!" De Soto decided, following a trail of thoughts only inebriated men would have understood. "I need to go now." He stated, as his bladder called him to action again. The Alcalde took a few hesitating steps towards the back of the windmill where he proceeded in lowering his pants and relieving himself, then fell asleep, leaning against his left hand, which he used to support himself on the windmill's wall.
Not hearing anything from his direction for over ten minutes, Diego decided to go look for him. When he found him, he briefly dreamt of a device allowing him to immortalize the moment, then decided he should help Ignacio back inside.
"Ignacio!" He poked at him, trying to get him awake enough to, at least, pull up his pants on his own. "Ignacio!" He repeated and the man briefly opened his eyes.
"What?" He asked.
"Pull up your pants. I'll help you inside."
De Soto stared down, noticing he was naked from the waist down, so he slowly covered himself. "Ready!"
Diego took his left hand and put it around his shoulders, letting the Alcalde lean against him as he helped him to his blanket. Felipe startled and woke up as they entered, but De Soto had his eyes closed and didn't see him. Everyone else was sound asleep and barely even moved at the commotion.
Closing the door, Diego gestured to Felipe to go back to sleep but his son indicated towards Mendoza, signing for Diego to take off the cloth as the man was not snoring anymore and it was no longer needed. Diego took it, but the lancer instantly begun making a noise that almost seemed to shake the entire building. So, after pouring a healthy dose of ether on the cloth, Diego left it near Mendoza, considering the vapor would still act as intended and it was less dangerous if not placed on his face. He was right, as the noise stopped but in a minute or so.
He then proceeded in getting another cloth and, after dampening it in water, he erased all traces of ash off Ramon's hands, so that De Soto would not suspect he was the victim of a prank.
Making sure everyone was comfortable, the tall caballero then returned to his blanket, soon succumbing to a wine-induced deep sleep.
ZZZ
It was not yet morning when two bandits, noticing the wagon and the horses outside, decided it would be a good idea to surprise the unsuspecting people inside the windmill and rob them of all their possessions.
They slowly made their way in, pistols at hand, taking care not to awaken anyone as they were evaluating the situation. One of them realized Mendoza was wearing a lancer's uniform so he signaled to his cohort to cover their faces with their bandanas. As he had just used his to wipe some dirt off his hands, the other bandit, looking around, decided to use a cloth he saw on the floor, next to Mendoza's face. The ether on the cloth had not yet completely evaporated so, the instant he put it to his nose, he fell to his knees, then face-first on Mendoza, the noise of his fall dampened by the lancer's legs, which the thug was now using as a pillow. The other bandit turned towards him, relieved nobody had woken up "What the blazes…" he uttered, picking up the cloth and raising it to his nose, then falling to the floor while accidentally discharging his gun through the ceiling.
A few seconds later, all seven sleeping men were completely awake, five of them feeling like that gunshot had gone straight through their heads, murderously looking towards the two intruders, the only ones now fast asleep. Felipe, at noticing De Soto, instantly lay back on his blanket, pretending he had not heard anything, as Diego hurriedly pretended to wake him up. The Alcalde did not notice the young man reacting to the sound of the pistol, as he was coping the best he could with the hangover, trying, at the same time, to focus on the two bandits to whom he attributed the loud pounding in his head. Stumbling to get to them, he first decided to take away their guns, firmly convinced that another gunshot would make his head explode, then turned them around to see their faces.
"They are the Cabrillio brothers!" Mendoza whispered when he recognized them. "They have been robbing and killing people all the way between here and Santa Paula!"
"What happened?" De Soto wondered, as a whispered conversation followed.
"Is this the cloth you used on me last night?" Diego asked Mendoza with a wink, picking up the cloth.
"Si, Don Diego…it's "
"Ether! You found some in Zorro's cave! I should have known!" The caballero stated, with an all-knowing look on his face. "At least it found a good use, helping you capture these bandits…" he then stated.
"They fell asleep just from smelling that?" De Soto asked.
"It seems so…You want to try?" Diego asked, extending the hand in which he was holding the cloth towards the Alcalde.
"No…Take that away from me, De la Vega! Lieutenant, tie them up and move them to the wagon! We are taking them back with us."
"Can't we eat first, Alcalde?" The man asked. "I don't feel so good…"
"You and your stomach, Mendoza!" The De Soto exclaimed as he felt like emptying the contents of his bowels the moment the mere idea of food crossed his mind.
About half an hour later, after Diego, Felipe and Mendoza ate while the others were doing their best to get over the nausea and the pain in their heads, they started their return to Los Angeles. The two bandits were still sleeping, although tightly bound in the back of the wagon, and almost everyone seemed to hate the sun that morning. Diego and Felipe, mounted on their horses, were looking at them with some undisguised amusement, unable to hide a wide grin at thinking back at the events of the previous night.