Later, Diego de la Vega, along with his father and Victoria, sat on one of the tavern's outdoor tables. He immediately stopped talking when he noticed the alcalde walking over to the church. Smiling, DeSoto chatted with the padre for a moment, before handing him a small bag that obviously contained coins.
DeSoto actually gave the reward to the church instead of keeping it for himself. Diego somehow managed to keep from dropping his glass. As he had rode home earlier, he convinced himself that DeSoto must have wanted the reward money for himself. What better way to hide it than claim it went into the Church poor box? Padre Benitez would not reveal that the money had never made it there. Only, as Diego could see for himself, it had.
Shaking her head, Victoria voiced the question that had been echoing in Diego's mind for over a month. "What is he up to this time?"
***
The tavern was busy for lunch on the following Saturday. Everyone there was discussing the alcalde and his recent actions. Diego noticed that more people were defending DeSoto. He had been a remarkable leader in the last few weeks, helping many peons straighten out past tax bills and many farmers had woke up to find DeSoto and his soldiers ready to aid them with crop harvesting. He was beginning to make many friends in the pueblo.
The tavern became silent as the man everyone was talking about entered. He simply grinned and pretended not to notice the silence. He smiled at Victoria, who returned it. Even she had softened some towards this new DeSoto. She told everyone that while she did not trust him, he was charming.
Don Pedro De Sotto stood at the counter. DeSoto stopped next to the caballero to place his order for juice. De Sotto greeted the alcalde and asked him if he had heard the news: young Miguel recently purchased some land adjacent to his with money received from the sale of Firestar's offspring. After receiving the deed to the property, he asked Maria to marry him.
"I think they make a wonderful couple," Victoria injected, her own face beaming with pleasure at the news. She sat the glass or orange juice down in front of DeSoto.
He smiled at her. He leaned on the counter and looked her straight in the eyes. "I'll tell you who I always thought would make a wonderful couple--you and Diego." His voice carried over the room and again the room, which had slowly started regaining its former noise, fell completely silent.
Alejandro, who was sitting nearby with Diego, laughed first. Other quickly joined in. "My son and Victoria? You must be joking!"
DeSoto laughed but without joy. "No, actually, Don Alejandro, I am not. They have a lot in common. Both are eternal do-gooders, always caring about those who are less fortunate. I cannot tell you two people who have done more charitable acts than they have. Even you don't come close to what your son or Victoria have done, Don Alejandro."
"Diego--well, he is my best friend. There is another one for me," Victoria protested. Wiping the bar in front of her, Victoria never looked up at DeSoto.
To Diego, DeSoto's smile seemed a little sad. "Yes, I know. The great romance of the plaza," he said in a kind voice, watching her hands busily move across the wood. "However, I would still recommend you marry Diego. Romance is not all it's reported to be. My mother and father had a great romance, but no friendship. After the stars in their eyes faded, they found they did not even like one another." DeSoto winked at Victoria when she looked up from her task. "For all you--or we--know, Diego is the man under the mask."
The entire tavern erupted in laughter again. Alejandro rolled his eyes, and Victoria flashed a quick smile over at Diego, obviously pleased that the awkward scene was over. Only Diego was concerned by the alcalde's words, because he was the only one who knew they held the truth.
****
Zorro was finding it hard to keep his sanity; especially with all the time he spent in Victoria's presence. Being in Victoria's arms, enjoying her kisses, intoxicated him with joy. Losing himself in her embrace seemed to be a real possibility, and that was not acceptable to him. He wanted to remain a gentleman instead of a cad with the woman he loved.
"Victoria," he gasped between kisses. "Victoria," he moaned when her fingers unfastened one more button on his shirt. "I have to--" More kisses stopped him for a moment. "I have to . . . leave . . . now."
With a resolve he had feared lost, he managed to gently push himself away from the beautiful señorita. They both stared at one another, breathless. Tonight had been wonderful. First, they shared a picnic beside a beautiful stream in the moonlight, discussing their dreams in great detail, or at least in as great of detail that Zorro could share without revealing his identity. Then, they had managed to return to the tavern without being bothered.
In the last three months, he had spent more time as Zorro courting Victoria than he had been fighting for justice. The alcalde's recent training of his soldiers made them able to handle most of the crime that occurred in the area, so Zorro spent little time in capturing the few the lancers were unable to handle. Each time he brought in a criminal, he received a smile from the alcalde and a question as to what he wanted done with the reward money if the bandit had a price on his head. That alone was enough to drive a sane man mad.
But worse was the time he spent with Victoria. Without the constant threat of the lancers, he found himself relaxing more in her presence, which left him perilously close to losing his common sense. They were walking a dangerous tightrope, and he had to use all of his self-control to stop himself from becoming a man who could take advantage of a woman. Victoria, unfortunately, was being uncooperative. A passionate lady, she was tired of waiting. DeSoto had better show his true colors soon, or Zorro would be as crazy as his namesake.
A sudden, loud knock on Victoria's bedroom door caused her and Zorro both to tense. Then, there was another knock accompanied by a soft "Victoria" on the other side. The alcalde's voice was well known by the occupants of the room.
Victoria looked at Zorro, expecting him to leave. Instead, he shook his head, placing his fingers over his mouth. He walked to a corner of the room, hiding in the shadows while Victoria opened the door.
"What is it you want, Alcalde?" Victoria's voice showed her displeasure at DeSoto's presence. Zorro forced himself not to smile from his enjoyment of her forthright nature.
"I'm sorry, Señorita," DeSoto bowed as he apologized. "I'm afraid I have a need for Zorro. I must speak with him immediately."
"He is not here," Victoria lied to the man with no hesitation in her voice. If Zorro had not known he was in the room, he would have believed her.
"I'm sorry, Señorita, but I know that he is," DeSoto replied, managing to actually sound apologetic. "I saw him enter almost an hour ago. He may have left, but the radiance of your eyes tells me he is still near. Honestly, Victoria, it is important that I speak to him."
Zorro found himself walking out of the shadows without thought, drawn to what the man had to say. Having spent many hours recently as Diego with this man, he believed the distress in his voice was real. "What do you need, Alcalde?"
DeSoto lips twisted up, but it was a sad, grim mockery of a smile. "Perhaps, we could talk downstairs, so that we would not disturb the señorita's customers who paid for a night of rest?"
***
Sitting at the table across from his archenemy, or at least, the man who used to be, Zorro studied him. He took note of the slumped shoulders, the red eyes, and the pale skin. He was uncertain what his relationship with DeSoto was at the moment, be it friend or foe, but he knew the other man was in emotional pain. Something was truly bothering the alcalde tonight.
"I'm sorry. I did not want to bother you, but you are the best tracker in the area, and we need your help tracking down some . . ." DeSoto stopped and sighed. His hands trembled as he took a drink of tequila. "I'm sorry. I've lost men before, but I . . . they died so horribly." DeSoto's voice cracked as he talked. He took another drink from the glass, grimacing as the liquor burned its way down his throat.
Zorro leaned forward, his body poised for action. "You've lost men?" He could not hide the horror from his voice. He did not even bother to try. Death was a cruel constant in the territory, but Zorro never managed to become immune to its horror. Perhaps his own mother's death, at too young of an age, had helped him to remember the pain death causes to love ones.
DeSoto took several deep breaths before speaking again. His eyes remained focused on the glass in front of him. He spoke numbly, as if he did not believe the story he was telling. "Yes, they were out on patrol when they were attacked. I don't know why." Suddenly, DeSoto stood and started to pace. His voice raised a notch from anger as he continued to tell the story. "They had nothing on them but their swords. No money or anything else of value. Their horses were left with the bodies, the saddlebags untouched. A search party found them just a little over an hour ago. I expected that they had gotten themselves lost, not killed." Zorro heard the alcalde a small, short horrified gasp before choking out, "Martin was not the best when it came to direction."
"Martin," Zorro whispered. Closing his eyes, he could easily picture the young man who had only begun to shave last month. A true joy for anyone to be around, he found all of the soldiers eager to accept him into their brotherhood, loving him as if he had been a part of their ranks for years. The citizens of Los Angeles also enjoyed the presence of the young, sweet man. Too immature to even consider marriage, he was now dead. Sergeant Mendoza would be devastated by the boy's loss, for he had treated the man as a kid brother.
DeSoto again began speaking, struggling to tell the story. His tone of voice swung wildly from calm to hysterical. "Yes, he and four others were . . . Sergeant Mendoza found them. He would not have recognized them, except for the fact they were in their uniforms. Their faces were beaten so badly that they were unrecognizable, all the bones broken and the skin . . . He said at first he thought wild beasts had attacked them; there was so much blood. Then, he realized that animals would not have left them laid out in a perfect little row and that the cuts in their flesh were from sabers not claws." DeSoto gasped again, obviously holding back tears. "They were all too young, and no one deserves to d-die like that."
The room was quiet for several minutes as both men digested what DeSoto had just said. Having been so lost in the story, Zorro had not noticed Victoria walking out of the kitchen to join them. When he finally felt her looking at him, he raised his eyes to meet hers. Shivering, she hugged her arms tightly together. The tears streaming down her face tore at his heart. He wished he could walk over there and kiss away the memories. He wished he could forget them himself. He wished he could leave the responsibility of the mask behind forever.
"Can we depend on your help to find these beasts, Zorro?" DeSoto asked after he had composed himself.
"Of course," Zorro said, knowing that wishes such as those were impossible to fulfill. Even if there were no Zorro, he could never forget his responsibilities.
He might not trust the alcalde, but he needed to put a stop to the murderers before anyone else was harmed. Sometimes, justice came too late, but he wanted--needed--to find it for Martin and those other men. Zorro took a moment to kiss Victoria goodbye, and both men walked out of the tavern together.