The next morning, Julian knocked on the door as Diego finished dressing. "Come in," he called as he tightened his cravat. In the mirror, he watched his friend enter the room. As always, his Lieutenant was perfectly dressed. The outfit looked so starched that it would be easy to believe that it was impossible to move in it. Diego preferred his outfit crisp but loose. He managed to cut an impressive figure in his uniform, nonetheless.
"Good morning, Julian." Diego felt wonderful this morning. He had managed to get some sleep after his fight with Zorro, and his defeat of the masked outlaw had been wonderful for his downed spirits. On top of all that, he had managed to kiss Victoria. He doubted it would be long before he managed to get her into his bed.
Julian remained as stiff as his uniform. "Good morning, Sir."
Grinning, Diego turned. "Ah, I've managed to somehow earn the disapproval of my faithful Lieutenant," he joked. "What have I done now? If you had wanted, I would have let you fight Zorro last night." Julian's hands clenched, alerting Diego to the fact that this was beyond Julian's normal frustration at him. "What is, Julian?" He was completely serious now.
"Diego," Julian sighed. "I thought Zorro was unimportant."
Shrugging, Diego leaned against the bed. "He is."
"Then why did you fight him last night?"
Diego smiled. "I didn't want to, Julian, but he was too angry to listen, I think."
"Angry at what?" Julian snorted. "You haven't even started the plan, yet."
"He saw me kissing Señorita Victoria last night, and he didn't appear to like it."
Julian somehow managed to stand even straighter. "Diego, she's as innocent as the day she was born."
Diego stood up, reaching for his coat. "I somehow doubt that, Julian. She's hardly a blushing schoolgirl." He buttoned up his waistcoat and pulled it straight. "Besides, she's ran a tavern most of her life, and she's unmarried."
"She's unmarried because she's a business owner and a little leery of any suitor, and what few suitors there have been have come from out of the pueblo thanks to Zorro. He's managed to frighten everyone away," Julian snarled between clenched teeth.
Diego looked at his friend, unsure what to say. He felt his own temper rising. "Really? Then, they are fools. Does she have a relationship with Zorro?"
Julian shook his head violently. "No, there was a possibility of one at the beginning. She forgave him easily enough for not clearing her name. He did, after all, rescue her from hanging. He stopped Don Alejandro from being taken by some con artists by killing a man named Ramirez. He then saved the community from a water drought that the alcalde had managed to engineer. He even stopped a caballero, believe it or not, who had recently inherited his father's rancho, from evicting everyone by revealing that the father's will left each of them free holders."
"A little violent perhaps, but it sounds like his heart was in the right place. What happened?" Diego asked, watching his friend beginning to pace.
"What happened was that Don Gilberto's cousin, Don Rafael, came to Los Angeles." Diego looked at his friend waiting for the rest of the story. "It would not have been a problem except for the fact that he brought his beautiful fiancée with him."
"Zorro seduced her?" Diego could not believe it.
Julian stopped his pacing long enough to look at his friend. "Yes, he did. She foolish believed herself to be in love with him, and, even more foolishly, believed he was in love with her."
Diego sank on the bed. "Amazing." He gave a half-laugh. "I can't believe the people support him so completely after that incident."
Julian sighed, leaning against the door jam. "The support is not as intense as we heard in Madrid. The people side with Zorro out of need more than respect. He's done a lot of great things over the years, but he's also done some bad. He is quick to kill, and he seems to be more worried about the caballeros than he is with the peasants, but he's better than the alcalde."
"That's not saying much, Julian." It had not taken either one of them long to realize how ignorant or how arrogant Ignacio DeSoto was, and Diego could well imagine how his predecessor, Luis Ramón, had been.
"No, it's not, but that's how these people live, Diego." Julian's respect and awe for the citizens of Los Angeles were obvious. Diego realized that Julian would be staying here when the troops left, and even though he regretted the loss of his friend, he hoped Julian found it to be the home that he had been searching for long before they first met him at the University.
Diego shrugged and broke the silence. "He and Victoria probably had a love affair going when it happened. That's why he's so possessive."
Julian exploded. "What is about Los Angeles that makes you so blind? You see the truth so easily every where else we go, but here you want to hold onto your old prejudices!"
Diego managed to hold onto his temper, barely. Julian had never before been this angry with him. Maybe it was for the best that they would soon be going separate ways, because he doubted their friendship would survive Julian's constant judgment. "Perhaps I am not as blinded by love as you are, my friend. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do." Diego snapped the door open and strolled through it, leaving his friend behind to stew.
***
He sat in the alcalde's office and brooded about Julian's words. Was he letting old prejudices blind him or was Julian letting his enchantment with this place interfere with his duty? Diego had a hard time believing either one was true. He always took the time to make his own judgments, and Julian was the consummate soldier. He crossed his arms across the ledgers lying open on the desk, and laid his head down with a sigh. The constant mental debate with himself was giving him a headache. That, too, was something new. He usually made his mind up quickly and then never questioned it. Here, he had yet made a decision that seemed clear.
A knock on the door made him sit up straight. It was not Julian, and he doubted anyone but one of his soldiers would dare to disturb him here. Just because he felt like he was being driven loco, there was no sense causing his men any worry. They depended on him. Standing, he called for whomever it was to enter.
It was Corporal Figueroa. He saluted crisply and held out his left hand. "I brought you the mail, Sir."
So, Julian had not forgiven him, yet. "Thank you, Corporal. That will be all." Another quick salute and the young man was gone.
Diego smiled when he noticed the handwriting on the first envelope. It was from Sir Edmund. Eagerly, he reached for his letter opener. It was then that he noticed the writing on the second envelope--his mother's. His gut clenched, his usual reaction to thoughts of the old woman who had raised him. Maybe you should say the old lady that you helped to raise, Diego thought with some remembered pain and amusement. He tossed down the second letter and quickly opened the more important one.
Dear Diego,
Shame on you for not telling me you were going to Los Angeles! It has only been a few hours since you left here, and I heard the news moments ago. I miss you already, my old friend.
I have always wanted to see Los Angeles. It is where an old friend of my lives--Don Alejandro de la Vega. He's a wonderful man, and you should call on him while you are there. We saw much together when I was helping the Spanish Crown train its troops in swordplay. (Who would then think that over twenty years later that I would then be accused of treason to that same crown? I can never thank you enough for helping me out of that quandary, Diego, but I must tell you that, if you had not been available, I would have gone to Los Angeles to seek help.)
If I had known that you were going, I would have sent some items with you for both my old friend, Alejandro, and for his son, Gilberto. I do not know if you remember Gilberto or not, but he was here at the University at the same time as you, and he, too, was my pupil. Of course, you were usually lost in a book, and Gilberto was usually lost in some beautiful lady. Studying was never his forte.
Please, come see me soon after you get back from the colonies. I want to hear all about Los Angeles. Please give my love to Don Alejandro, and say hello to Gilberto for me. Although he may wish to forget we ever met. Unlike you, he never liked, or understood the need for, the discipline I forced on him in learning the sword.
Your Friend,
Edmund
Diego stared at the words, trying to force them into making some kind of sense to him. Somehow, in all his research, he had not managed to find out that his friend, Edmund, even knew his father. If he had known, he would have asked his old teacher about Alejandro and Gilberto. Diego would have shared with him the entire truth, because Edmund could have given him insight.
He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "Who are you, Don Alejandro de la Vega? Have you managed to fool all this people, or was my birth the only time you acted so dishonorably?" he mused aloud. Looking down at his straight and strong legs, he asked, "Was it just because I was born first, the heir? You could have lied instead of giving me to the midwife. No one can see ten-minutes age difference by looking. You could have just said he was the oldest instead of throwing me away."
He let out a deep breath and grabbed up his mother's letter. Frantically, before he lost his nerves, he tore open the envelope and yanked out the letter inside it. Taking another deep breath, he opened it and forced himself to read the words.
My Dear Son,
You should have arrived by now, and be well on your way to achieving your real purpose in visiting Los Angeles--the destruction of the de la Vegas. You must never forget the humiliation I suffered at the hand of Don Alejandro de la Vega, never forget you were rejected by your natural mother, and I took you in, loved you, cared for you. The de la Vega inheritance will be yours, dearest Diego. Be my arm of vengeance and grind them into the dust!
"Yes, Mother, I am doing well. Thank you for asking, and thank you for letting me know how you are doing," he muttered at the letter.
Getting up out of his chair, he walked over to the door and opened it a crack. Unbelievably, the very people he was busy thinking about were standing in his line of sight. There was his beautiful black-haired witch standing next to his father and brother. Mendoza stood between the alcalde and Don Alejandro.
"Into the dust, Mother? An arm of vengeance?" He looked down at his letter, and sadly shook his head. Snapping the door closed behind him, he went back to checking the pueblo's records. "Sounds like your usual rhetoric, Mother." Getting back to work, Diego forced his mind off old wounds.
***
The next morning, Diego continually shifted in his pew. Julian, had actually sat down beside him earlier, and murmured, "It looks like you are a tad bit uncomfortable with what you are about to do, Sir."
Diego shot him a look that ordered him to be quiet. Julian's eyes reflected his own regret at his words, and simply nodded in understanding. The Church had been the only place of comfort for a small street urchin in Madrid. Until he had sent that fateful letter to his uncle, the Church had been the only place where he had found any peace in his life. Julian was the lone person alive who knew that fact, and they had never before taken advantage of their knowledge about each other for easy emotional punches.
He heard DeSoto talking with Gilberto behind him. After discovering his brother's friendship with the alcalde, he found it harder for him to find anything to admire about him. Right now, Gilberto was expressing his sympathy at the recent behavior of Zorro. The masked outlaw seemed to be fully aware of what was going on in Los Angeles, and he had been having some fun at the alcalde's expense. Diego had watched in amazement and disgust as the man rode through the pueblo just to get DeSoto and his men to chase him. They always failed, humiliated by some stunt at the end.
Diego was having a hard time understanding Zorro. He had managed to get Victoria to say a few words about the pueblo's notorious hero, but she refused to tell him much. Most of his information was coming from the meticulous notes that the two alcaldes kept about the outlaw. He remembered reading what Padre Benitez said about Zorro. Just rescued by him, and in the process of helping Don Emilio recover from the wounds he had received after challenging the outlaw, he'd told Ramón, "There is both good and evil struggling in that man. Only time will let us know which will win." To Diego, "good and evil struggling" seemed to be a good explanation for the contradictory nature of the masked man.
Diego, knowing Latin, listened carefully to the words of the service when it began. He had always found comfort in the cool walls of a monastery, but after today he was not sure he would ever again feel sheltered in a Church. God, forgive me for what I am about to do, he prayed.
Padre Benitez was a man of God. Diego had met men who wore the cloth, but knew less about walking with God than a newborn did. Benitez was not one of those priests. His love for the people of Los Angeles, his belief that he was there to be a shepherd, was obvious to even the most casual of observers, and Diego was scientifically trained to watch his world. Forcing himself to breath, he walked up to greet Los Angeles's minister.
It was a beautiful day, and Diego found himself wishing that he could get on his horse and just ride the territory. However, he had too much work to do to enjoy it. "A splendid mission you have here, Padre Benitez." It was beautiful, especially to be here in the wilds of the earth instead of in civilization.
As Benitez thanked him, Julian walked up beside him, a show of support for an act he disagreed with, even in planning. "It was built by the local Indians."
"Under Spanish rule and supervision, of course," Diego said, feeling like a stick was stuck in his throat. What his country, what every country, had done to the Indians was disgraceful. The look on the padre's face let him know that the man shared Diego's feelings about the subject. "Then, I am sure that you appreciate his Majesty's generosity."
"Generosity? But is the duty of every Christian King to send the Word of God to the four corners of the earth," Benitez protested.
Diego forced back the bile rising in his throat. "Just as it is your duty to discharge this missionary's obligations to the royal throne."
"With all respect," Padre Benitez objected. "Our only obligation is to God."
Diego admired the man's courage and his conviction. True, Padre, he told him in his mind, and I hope that you, and God, can forgive me. "God is not engaged in a war with the French--we are. And since the Church shares our duty to support the Spanish Crown in that effort," Diego said, slowly getting louder to attract the crowds attention. Many people, like in most small pueblos, had stayed after church, talking in the plaza. Benitez looked down, refusing to show his reaction to Diego's words. "I hereby confiscate all mission properties."
"What?" His father, of course, was the first person to speak. "You can't do that!"
"Really?" Diego taunted, making sure to pull all the emotional switches of this man. "And just who's going to stop me?" His stomach was churning in protest at his own actions. He had never been ashamed of anything he had done before now. Diego always despised the type of men who believed they were mini-gods here on earth because of their power.
"This is unheard of!" He hated seeing the good padre so upset. He would have felt kinder hitting the man. "What you propose is unprecedented!"
"It is rather creative, I agree." It was making Diego even more upset than it was anyone else, not that he could let that show.
"Be warned that, Señor Resendo, the people of this pueblo will never stand for this," Don Alejandro warned him. Diego admired the man's daring, almost as much as wanted to shake his brother for remaining silent.
"The people," Diego began. Are a wonderful group, united in a common cause to survive. "Are a bunch of seditious pack of jackals. Don't threaten me with insurrection, de la Vega. For years, the Church has grown fat with the help of the crown. Now, it is simply time to pay the piper!" Amazingly enough, he managed to say it without choking.
Everyone stood quietly, finding no more words to say. Diego walked away and Julian followed closely behind. "I'm going to go work in the alcalde's office. Don't bother bringing me any lunch today."
Julian nodded. "Can't stomach it?" The two friends did not say exchange another word for the rest of the morning.