Chapter 8
De Soto's gaze instantly fell on Diego as he entered the office behind Mendoza and Victoria. As they stopped before his desk, de Soto's gaze didn't waver from Diego's face. Shreds of memory flashed through his mind in quick, short bursts, stealing his very breath.
How could it be? How could this man have fooled him for so very long? But the truth buried within his mind had consented to revealing pieces of itself to him. There was no mistake.
Then Mendoza was speaking. He could hear the sergeant's voice far away, piercing the thin veil of memory that clouded his mind.
"Alcalde?"
De Soto shook his head and inhaled deeply. "Oh, yes."
"Are you feeling all right?" Diego asked, concern lighting his eyes, momentarily distracting de Soto from his intended purpose.
"I am fine," De Soto said a bit gruffly. He turned to Mendoza. "Interesting that Zorro resorted to cutting Thackery. He's never drawn blood before."
"Oh, he didn't have to; he said the cut on his arm was for his—um, for Don Alejandro, and the cut on his chest was for you."
De Soto raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"Yes!" Victoria answered quickly, hoping that de Soto wouldn't recognize Mendoza's near blunder for what it truly was. "He was very upset that you and Don Alejandro were hurt so –"
"Cruely?" Diego finished for her and Victoria nodded gratefully. He fought down the angry tone that threatened to penetrate his every word. "The way he treated you and my father were not the actions of a gentleman, English or otherwise."
"True." De Soto regarded his three guests carefully. Before he examined Mendoza's comment further, he wanted to get to the reason for their visit right now. He was too eager to see their reactions. "The Englishman gave me some very startling news today and I wanted to - share it with you. It is quite - absurd."
Victoria reached behind her and gripped Diego's hand. He squeezed it reassuringly.
"Oh? What news is that?" Diego asked innocently, forcing a blank expression onto his face.
De Soto forced his gaze from Diego and stared at Mendoza. "He seems to think that you, Diego, are Zorro." His eyes shifted briefly to Diego's face.
Mendoza coughed and Victoria laughed. She released Diego's hand and glanced at Diego before turning her full attention to de Soto.
"Alcalde, you must be joking. I think I, of anyone, would know if Diego were Zorro." Victoria hoped her disbelieving tone would be convincing. Her hands trembled, but she clenched them together and forced herself to stand still.
"Oh, that's not possible," was Mendoza's response. "Don Diego was freed by Zorro when he defeated Thackery in the tavern."
"So you've said," De Soto's tone was accusatory as his eyes shifted to each of them.
"You don't seriously believe the words of a man who tried to kill you?" Diego asked. If De Soto did believe Thackery's revelation, he wouldn't be standing here now. And he hadn't noticed any lancers waiting outside to arrest him now.
De Soto leveled a hard gaze at Diego. "I don't know. Should I?"
"Alcalde -"
"Thank you," De Soto dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "I am quite tired. I believe I will take a nap."
Mendoza glanced nervously at Diego and then back at the alcalde. "That's all you wanted, alcalde?"
"Yes," de Soto stood on unsteady legs. His strength was fading fast. "I wanted to see your reaction to my news. That is all."
Diego hurried around the desk and advised de Soto to lean against him. "You don't look well, Ignacio. Let me help you to your room." Diego turned back to Victoria. "Get the alcalde a bowl of his favorite soup? He needs to keep up his strength."
Victoria nodded and hurried out of the office, her hands shaking far more than she wanted to admit.
De Soto allowed Diego to help him to his room, a nervous Mendoza bumbling around trying to lend aid where it wasn't needed.
Once de Soto was comfortable, and Victoria had returned with the soup, he kicked them all out of his room.
Years of training had conditioned him to read much into a man's words or actions - or inaction.
Mendoza was too nervous, Victoria too – giddy, and Diego was too - calm.
After this brief meeting, de Soto now had no doubt that Diego de la Vega was Zorro. The only dilemma he faced now was what to do with this new knowledge.
His dreams were not pleasant ones and he tossed in his sweat-covered nightshirt, grunting in pain at the sharp movements his body made in its unconscious state.
In his dreams, Ignacio de Soto stood on the edge of a great chasm, looking at himself and his life through a large looking glass.
He was a good man. An honest and fair man. Or - he once had been. When had that changed? When had he become this hated, hateful man who demanded everyone live by his rules or pay the consequences?
He was not a man of privilege. He had had to scrape and work for everything he had achieved in life. He should understand the plight of the poor man. But he didn't. He used and exploited them for his own means, his own gain. A position he had once coveted, had done anything to obtain, had become the greatest source of irritation in his life. He wanted nothing more than to leave this dusty pueblo behind and return to his beloved Madrid.
But it was as if the King had forgotten about the colonies. No aid had come, no new soldiers. Even the pay had stopped. The taxes levied against the people paid the soldiers and bought what was necessary for the pueblo to function. Receiving no aid from Spain had been an incredible strain and forced him to treat the people and situations presented to him in ways that he would not normally have conceived.
De Soto had been abandoned in this dusty, dirty, poor excuse for a pueblo and he despised the thought of never being permitted to return home.
Ignacio's eyes snapped open and he groaned as the pain in his chest slammed into his conscious mind.
Zorro.
There was nothing that he could do about going back to his beloved Madrid, but there was surely something he could do about that bandit. And once Zorro was dealt with, he could concentrate on becoming the kind of leader remembered in all the great texts.
As de Soto sat in the tavern awaiting his meal to be delivered, Diego stepped over to his table and ask if he could join the officer.
De Soto nodded slowly, indicating the bench across from him.
"I wanted to talk to you about Thackery," Diego said, smiling at Victoria as she deposited a plate and utensils in front of the alcalde.
"Nothing for me, thank you," Diego said before Victoria could ask. She nodded and moved to tend to her other customers, lingering only a second longer than was customary. But de Soto caught the subtle change.
Diego forced himself to focus on the alcalde and not follow Victoria's lovely form as she swept around the tavern.
"What about him?" De Soto asked, dipping his spoon into his soup.
"I think you should let him go."
De Soto paused with the spoon at his lips. "Have you lost your mind?"
Diego wondered if this was an affliction de Soto shared with his father and Victoria. They had asked him the very same thing not too long ago.
"I don't think hanging him is a wise idea."
"And why is that?"
"He is an English-born citizen and as such is entitled-"
"I don't care if he is a relation to the King of England himself," de Soto scowled at Diego. "That man is going to hang."
"I think you should extradite him back to England."
De Soto's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, giving this idea some consideration.
"You can send an escort with a letter to the King outlining his violent acts toward the people of this pueblo. You can demand monetary compensation in lieu of your bringing this matter before King Ferdinand." Diego leaned forward as he continued. "We both know our countries have been at war for centuries. I'm sure the Prince Regent of England would not want it known that he sent a master swordsman to the Spanish colonies to kill every able-bodied man who could wield a sword."
De Soto took a sip of his soup. That was not the reason for Thackery's return to the pueblo and both men knew it. But De Soto had to admit it was a well thought out and - devious plan. "Why Diego, I didn't think you had a manipulative bone in your body."
Diego smiled at that. "I don't see a peaceful solution otherwise. One where you do not kill Thackery." Diego paused for a moment. "I find murder to be a coward's solution. There is a valid reason for you to execute Thackery but I think it would be far more shameful for a man like him if you to sent him back to England in disgrace."
Another moment of silence passed as de Soto considered Diego's words. "You may be right," De Soto said. "As much as I hate to admit it."
"Demand a tidy sum for your silence on this matter. Once Thackery reaches England's shores, he is no longer your responsibility."
"And you have no concerns over Thackery connecting your name with relation to Zorro?"
Diego chuckled softly. "It matters not. My family has only to deny such claims."
"Hmm," De Soto tugged at his beard and regarded Diego with a curious stare.
Diego, in turn, assumed his most blank expression, hoping that de Soto would not launch any sort of investigation into Thackery's claim. His instincts were already screaming at him. De Soto wasn't truly convinced that Thackery was lying. Yet, if he weren't, why had he not arrested him?
Victoria stopped by the table yet again and asked Diego if he wanted something to eat.
De Soto watched their exchange with a critical eye. While there was no outward change in the way they interacted with one another, de Soto sensed a lingering subtlety in the very air that sizzled when they were together.
When Victoria moved away to attend to another customer, de Soto took a slow sip of his wine. "I will consider this plan of yours, Diego. I would still rather execute him and be done with it."
"The easier path is not always the right one," Diego answered as he stood. "I will leave you to your thoughts, then. I want to get home and see how my father is doing."
"Give him my regards," said de Soto.
Diego and Alejandro were walking in the garden when de Soto arrived the next day. A servant announced the alcalde's arrival just as Alejandro reached for the gate that led to a private section of the garden.
"Alcalde," Alejandro turned and greeted the man with a genuine smile. "To what do we owe this visit?"
De Soto glanced at the roses each man held and then at the gate on which Alejandro's hand rested. "Have I come at a bad time?"
Alejandro removed his hand and glanced away. This was not something he wanted to share with the alcalde. It was too personal and it was none of de Soto's business. "No."
Diego rested a hand on his father's arm, knowing, understanding, that if things had gone differently, he might have been burying the last of his children in this garden.
"This is an emotional day for our family, Ignacio," Diego said with a hint of irritation in his voice. After a long moment, he added, "Today is the anniversary of my mother's death," knowing that the alcalde would ask. "What is it we can do for you?"
It took the alcalde a moment to gather his thoughts. They were going to visit a family grave. The sadness in Alejandro's eyes was a clear indication as were the roses each man held. Such knowledge only strengthened the alcalde's resolve to say what he had come to say. His guilt over wounding Alejandro and having killed his oldest son warred heavily with the knowledge that he could now destroy this man and his family.
"I have a two-fold reason for coming to see you. First, I thought you would like to know that Thackery is to be transported to San Diego today. I have sent word ahead that he will be arriving and that he is to remain imprisoned there until such time as he can be returned to England."
Diego allowed a small smile to cross his face. "He could be there quite a long time. Ships are not as plentiful as they once were."
De Soto grinned evilly. "Yes. I know."
Diego nodded, understanding. "So you decided to take my –"
"I decided that it was better to send him back to England in disgrace rather than cause an international incident by executing him."
Diego understood the interruption all too clearly. De Soto did not want anyone to realize that he had taken his advice about what to do with his prisoner. "Very wise."
"Yes," de Soto said slowly, suddenly becoming lost in thought.
"You had something else you wished to say?" Alejandro asked, impatient to continue with his task.
"I want to speak with Zorro," de Soto said, his gaze pointedly lingering on Diego. "I have it under good authority that you can get a message to him."
Alejandro's brows knitted together. "Oh? What authority might that be?"
Diego said nothing, simply returned de Soto's gaze with one of his own. He didn't look at his father and the older man didn't look at him.
"Find him, Diego," De Soto was in no mood to play the denial game. "I will be waiting." With that he turned on his heel and strode out of the garden, leaving Diego and Alejandro gazing stupidly after him.
TBC
WolfDaughter – hmm, you might be on to something . . .
Beverly – I was able to delete that second post so don't worry. Surprise you? Really? Well, that's good to know. What did you expect to happen?
Trollie – well, you'll have to wait until the next chapter to find out what de Soto is going to do :)
JKL88 – And how did you expect it to go?
CW – Oh no There are other, much more fun plans in store for Thackery. . .
MadaMaq – After a traumatic experience it can take some time to remember everything that happened. De Soto was awake, and no one knew it, for a few crucial seconds before he passed out. Diego won't intentionally kill anyone . . . its not in him.
Aurelia30 – Oh yes. I have a plan. This story has been done for a few weeks now. I've just been evil in the posting of it. :smiles sweetly:
One more chapter and an epilogue. The torture is almost over :)