Chapter 8

The next few days were busy ones for Zorro and he was thankful for the diversions.

Money flowed freely throughout the pueblo as repairs and rebuilding commenced. The storm had hit both haciendas and hovels, peons and patróns. Those who had not suffered losses had opened their purses and a very real sense of community had settled over the pueblo.

But along with the good came some bad. Several outsiders had ridden into town, bent on using the opportunity to take advantage of the unwary wherever they could. Diego kept watch for trouble during the day and then Zorro rectified the situations by night.

He only caught an occasional glimpse of Victoria and she never sought him out at all. His mood slid downhill steadily as the week wore on and the troubles continued.

The alcalde's mood was no better. De Soto woke up each morning with a couple more bandidos in his jail, courtesy of Zorro. Rather than being grateful for the extra help, he grew more incensed with each new prisoner. By Saturday night, as the dusk settled down over the pueblo, his anger was at its peak.

"How dare he continue to do this to me!" he wailed to no one in an empty office. "I'll see him on my gallows yet! Mendoza!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Mendoza!"

The sergeant came running and clicked his heals at attention. "Sí, mi alcalde!" He already dreaded what was coming next.

"Sergeant, I want Zorro in my jail before this night is out. Do you understand me?" He peered into the shorter man's eyes. "No more mistakes. No more misses. Understand?"

"Sí, mi alcalde!" He could feel the hot breath of his commanding officer on his face. "But-"

"No buts! I want Zorro dead or alive. I don't care how. But I do care when! I want him now! Now, Sergeant, we need bait! And the only sure-fire bait that is guaranteed to draw him out is that little tramp of a barmaid across the street!" De Soto slowly circled the sergeant as he told him what he had planned. "I want her put in the stocks tonight." He laughed at his own cleverness. "He will never allow her to spend any length of time in them. I want every lancer on duty. Our best shots will be stationed on the roofs and when Zorro comes to rescue his saucy little tavern wench," he sneered as he said the words, "we'll be ready for him! Now, Sergeant, go get the men ready. This had better run like clockwork, or I'll have your head as well!"

"Sí, mi alcalde!" Mendoza saluted and ran from the room. He was already shaking at the thought of what he had to do. "Madre de Dios!" he muttered to himself, "when Zorro finds out about this...Madre de Dios!"

He walked slowly toward the barracks to tell his men about the orders.

But Zorro had already discovered the plan, for he had been listening underneath the window as the alcalde had issued the orders. His temper was white hot and he fought to hold it in check.

For once, he did not trouble himself to come in through the roof. He would use the door to pay his visit to the alcalde tonight! While De Soto's back was turned, he swiftly slipped into the room. "Good evening, Alcalde!"

"Zorro!" De Soto reached for the pistol on the desk but Zorro drew his sword quickly and knocked it to the floor.

"This is the thanks I get for doing your work for you? For Shame!" Zorro clicked his tongue at the man. "Such ingratitude. And as for your plans for the Señorita ... I am afraid I cannot let you go through with them. You see, a lady must never be treated in that manner. A gentleman would know that." His eyes flashed the anger he felt through the mask. "How dare you!"

De Soto knew the challenge in the statement and looked over at his sword in its scabbard lying on the chair, just a short distance away.

Zorro nodded and rested his own blade on his shoulder while the alcalde drew the sword from its sheath. "Prepare to die, you outlaw!"

"Oh please! Aren't we being just a shade melodramatic?" Zorro smiled as the alcalde leapt forward in a lunge only to find air at the tip of the blade.

Then with three strokes of his blade, Zorro disarmed the man easily and pointed the tip of his saber at the alcalde's throat. "Now, alcalde, my patience wears thin. You will rescind your orders and if you ever even breathe the señorita's name again with such disrespect, I will be back. And the next time we meet, I... will ...kill ...you." He uttered the deadly threat through clenched teeth and moved the sword's tip from the alcalde's throat to precisely above his heart. He put just enough pressure behind the blade that it pierced the uniform so De Soto could feel the cold steel on his skin.

The alcalde's breathing became ragged with fear but he managed a nervous laugh. "But you never kill! Everybody knows that. You wouldn't-" He shrank from the sword's tip, "just in case," he thought, and backed right up against the door.

Zorro stepped forward keeping the blade against his chest. "I wouldn't place too much store in my past behavior. A man can take only so much. And I've had —"

"Alcalde!" Suddenly the door was shoved open forcibly by the sergeant and the alcalde was thrown forward and impaled upon Zorro's blade.

For five long seconds, the scene was frozen in time.

The alcalde, a look of astonishment on his face, looked into Zorro's widened eyes as the outlaw's gaze was held by the tip of his own blade imbedded in the alcalde's chest. Then the alcalde's body slid slowly to the floor as Zorro let go of the offensive weapon.

"Alcalde! Zorro! Madre de Dios!" The sergeant knelt down and looked at De Soto. "He's dead!"

"It appears I have killed the alcalde." Zorro's voice was a raspy whisper.

"But Zorro, it was an accident. I saw! You would never have..."

"You don't know that." Zorro's voice was strangely quiet. "It was my blade that took his life. You must do your duty, Sergeant"

"My duty?"

"Yes, you must arrest me," Zorro turned away at that moment so the sergeant could not see the tears well up in his eyes, "for murder."

Zorro walked towards the back room and the jail cells.

"But Señor Zorro, I…you — I must go get the padre."

"A good idea, Sergeant." Zorro said bleakly as he reached for the keys on the peg and opened the cell door. He let himself inside and turned to throw the keys back to the peg in an easy motion. He closed the door and sat dejectedly on the hard cot.

The masked man's thoughts were in chaos and belied his outward calmness. He had killed! The one thing he had sought to prevent, from the very beginning, had now been done by his own hand. He sank into a quagmire of misery.

By the time the padre got there, he had gone through the scene many times, trying to find out what had truly been in his heart.

"Zorro?" Padre Benitez had to repeat the name several times to call Zorro from his deep reverie. "Zorro? Sergeant, please let me in. I think he is in need of my services too."

The sergeant came running in and was surprised to see Zorro locked in the cell. Seeing the keys on the peg he guessed immediately that the outlaw had done this to himself.

"Sí, padre."

Mendoza let the padre enter and after a few seconds of not knowing what to do, he went back out into the alcalde's office. The doctor and undertaker were already coming through the door. Both faces, at first, registered shock when they saw the bloody corpse before them, and then relief as they ascertained the identity of the body. They set about their work and before long, De Soto's body had been moved over to the undertaker's business parlor and the floor had been cleaned.

The sergeant sat on the desk's edge trying to make sense of it all. In some ways, he was not that sorry the alcalde was dead. No one would be. It was sad, but it was the truth. He had been an evil man, a truly, evil man and he had done so many bad things to many good people.

Mendoza felt sad that it was his own impulsive action that had caused the man's death. It was an accident. The sergeant knew that, and the padre had believed it. But he didn't think Zorro looked at it that way. He hoped the padre could talk some sense into him. He had never seen Zorro look so sad.

He looked at the papers on the desk. With a jolt, he realized that he himself would now be in charge until a new alcalde could be appointed. But the papers could wait. A friend was in need and he knew what that friend needed more than anything else.

He got up, straightened his tunic slowly, and took a deep breath. He would go see the señorita and she would know how to make Zorro feel better.

The sergeant strode across the street and into Victoria's tavern. The tavern was busy and it was surprising that the news of what had just happened had not yet reached the people gathered there. He found the señorita in the kitchen tending to some dishes. He waited a few moments before clearing his throat to get her attention.

"Señorita? I have something to tell you."

"Oh, Sergeant Mendoza. Yes, what is it?" She looked up at him brightly and began wiping her hands of the dishwater.

"Señorita,... I ...have just... arrested Zorro." He looked sheepishly at her, almost afraid to make eye contact.

"Arrested Zorro? But that's impossible!" Was this a joke?

"Sí señorita ... He's in a jail cell right now. I think you should go to him. He is not..."

"Sergeant, if this is some kind of sick joke —" she brushed past him and walked straight for the door.

"Señorita! There's something you should know —"

He followed her out the door and across the street. At the sound of the sergeant's voice behind her, she walked faster, knowing that something was dreadfully wrong. The possible scenes played through her mind. Zorro had been hurt. That was what the sergeant had been trying to tell her. She steeled herself for what she would find as she opened the door to the alcalde's office.

There was no one there. She looked around, suddenly at a loss, but before the sergeant could catch up with her, she whisked through the back door and into the room containing the jail cells.

There she saw Zorro inside a cell with the padre, kneeling together in prayer.

She stopped cold, trying to make sense of it all. The prayer was in Latin and she didn't understand the words. But she knew she must wait until the padre was finished. The words seemed to drone on and on for long minutes.

She grew inpatient.

The sergeant had stepped up silently behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned, surprised. And then, she was surprised again to see the sergeant, his head hanging low, with tears in his eyes. What on earth was going on?

The padre was finished his prayer, and got to his feet, expecting Zorro to do the same, but the outlaw remained on his knees, silently praying on his own. His eyes were closed, trying to shut out the world, it would seem, and the padre moved quietly to the cell door.

He ushered the sergeant and the señorita out into the adjoining office and shut the door.

"Padre, is he going to be all right?" Mendoza was worried about his good friend.

"Of course he will, Sergeant. It just may take some time. Everything always works out for good in God's world, though the timing may not be our own. Señorita, he will need your comfort in time, but perhaps you should give him a few more minutes so the Lord can offer a greater comfort to him." He smiled compassionately and turned to the sergeant. "He does have a very major concern, Sergeant, and I do agree with him on this."

"What is that, Padre?"

"I assume you are in charge right now." Victoria shot a confused look at he sergeant. "And it is within your power to order that his mask not be removed for now. Zorro fears for his family's sake, and would like his identity be kept secret for now, even though he is in your custody and agrees to offer no resistance, no attempt of escape. Will you grant him this request?"

"Sí, of course, Padre. I - I - Padre, I didn't even really arrest him, you know?"

"I know, but he's right in this. You should have. There is a question about the alcalde's death and it should be resolved. You will be Zorro's best witness in the case against him. I only wish the battle his conscience is fighting right now could be resolved as easily as the legal one will probably be."

"The alcalde's dead?" Victoria was relieved to hear it. Maybe there was some chance for Zorro after all. She wanted to go to him so desperately. She made a move for the door, but the padre restrained her.

"A few more minutes, my child. Please."

She looked at him in alarm. "Padre, are you trying to tell me that Zorro is accused of killing the alcalde? It's just not true! I know it!"

"Señorita, I was there...I mean...here. He did kill the alcalde but it was an accident. It was just as much my fault as his, Señorita!"

Victoria would listen to no more. Zorro, no, Diego, needed her and she would go to him!