The weather was already too hot, and the taverness was more than a little annoyed that morning. She was in a terrible mood.
That viper who wanted to capture Zorro had been trying to get her clutches into her best friend, and, that day, she might succeed. The ride she asked Diego to take her on was, obviously, from Victoria's perspective, nothing more than a trap to get him alone and seduce him. Poor, innocent, gallant Diego would stand no chance against her.
She resolved to kick the woman out as soon as she'd return, then changed her mind at considering that the chivalrous De la Vegas might offer her a guest room instead, which would have been even worse than Senora Del Rioblanco's continuing stay at her tavern.
Despite being younger than Victoria - or, at least, so the taverness believed - Mya was, undoubtedly, far more experienced than every other women she knew, and completely capable to turn men into faithful puppies! He was probably already lost to that woman's charms! Victoria's mind screamed as she berated herself for not having warned the caballero in time.
I should have ridden out with them to make sure he was… safe. Her silent banter continued, even though she was, at that point, still unable to understand why exactly she was so upset with the situation. She had had a lot of clients that morning and had barely even noticed Diego arriving and coming in to greet her. A few minutes later, when she returned to him to ask what he wanted, he was gone. Victoria only found out where he had gone to and with whom when Don Alejandro told her, half an hour after their departure, and had been worrying about him ever since. The old don's lack of preoccupation with his son's decision to accompany Mya was also irritating her. After all, Don Alejandro was by no means secretive about his hope to soon see his only son married, and he seemed to like the young widow.
What was he thinking, anyway? Victoria questioned Diego's reasoning, deciding that, if he returned from that ride with a fiancée, she'd make sure he'd take his proposal back, even if she'd have to use her pan to get him to do so!
It was just 11:30 in the morning, but she needed something to calm her nerves.
Victoria poured herself a glass of wine. It was too early for wine, but she hoped it would, at least, make her numb enough to feel better. While she usually only drank at soirees and at dinners with friends, she had, in time developed quite a resistance to alcohol due to her frequent trips to her suppliers. Getting drunk was, thus, not among her main concerns at that point. After all, circumstances had forced her to manage the tavern alone since she was fourteen, and one of the first things she had learned was that she needed to make sure she was only given the best, or many of her patrons would cease said patronage. When the first glass had hardly any effect on her, she poured herself another, then placed the bottle on the kitchen table, just in time to go greet her new guest.
He was a rough-looking man but in a charming way. Rather clean – something most men weren't, she remarked just for herself – had long, black hair, a mustache, an overgrown beard, and a goatee. Dressed as a trapper, he was carrying around his saddlebags, a rifle and a long object, safely packed in a deerskin.
The new arrival didn't seem threatening but left her with the impression of a man who could certainly take care of himself. And of his woman. An inner voice silently added as she was deciding whether or not she should flirt with him. A positive response from a handsome man might make her feel better, she considered. On second thought, Victoria decided she was not in the mood for flirting.
He was a bit shorter than Zorro, a detail she always noticed in newcomers, but she liked black-haired men, and she usually preferred them with a mustache. Not that there were any men to speak of in her life. Zorro had left and Diego had fallen prey to that… woman. Her mind pointed out.
The stranger tried to smile at her - it didn't come out as genuine as he hoped - and approached the bar.
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"Wait!" Joe interrupted Felipe's story. "If I get this right, this… stranger… He was Duncan, wasn't he?" Felipe nodded so Joe continued. "MacLeod was wearing a mustache and a goatee the first time you'd met him?"
"He was. He was wearing mutton chops the second time we've met, some decades later. He even wore a soul patch in the '50s. You should have seen him!"
"I would have liked to!" Joe replied. "You know, whenever he told me one of his stories, he left out the details about how he used to look one decade or another."
"I would too, if I would have had some of his bad inspiration when it comes to facial hair. Anyway… where was I? Oh, yes. His first encounter with Victoria."
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"Senorita," he asked in a good Spanish spoken with a strange accent, different from Mya's, yet just as unidentifiable to the taverness "is this also an inn? I'd like a room for the night."
"Si, Senor," Victoria replied, doing her best effort to smile. "But, unfortunately, the only room I have left is the one in the back. It's rather small, but the price is, as well. Only two pesos."
"I'm sure it will be better than sleeping out in the open!" He replied, looking around the place with curiosity. "I'll take it. My name is Duncan MacLeod."
The taverness wondered what kind of a name was that. It wasn't Spanish, of that she was sure. "Are you an American, Senor Mclad?"
"MacLeod," he corrected her.
"MacLod."
"Mac-Leod"
"Mac-Laud"
"You know what? Duncan will be fine." He decided to give up. It was not the first time people had difficulties in pronouncing his name since he had crossed the border into Alta California.
"Very well senor!" Victoria agreed, a little irritated. "I am Victoria Escalante. Welcome to my tavern, Senor Duncan!"
"Your tavern?" He asked with some amusement. "You're the owner?"
"I am!" She decided to feel insulted by what she perceived as a dismissive tone, rather than the astonished one it was meant to be, and that only worsened her mood. She already disliked the man. "I will have one of my employees prepare the room for you, and I will let you know when it's ready."
"That would be fine, thank you. In the meantime, do you, by any chance have any whisky?"
"Whisky? I… I believe I do. But I only have one bottle, and it is rather expensive."
"I haven't touched alcohol in a month, ever since I put foot in California. I'm tired and, right now, I want nothing better than some whisky. How much can it be?" Duncan asked, already searching his saddlebags for money, a bit frustrated to have so many dollars, yet so few Spanish pesos.
"The bottle is twenty pesos, and by bottle is the only way I am selling it." Victoria answered him, putting a sudden end to his search.
"Twenty pesos for a bottle of whisky? That's not a price, that's robbery!" He protested.
"I did warn you it was expensive. It is only brought by English ships, and this is a Spanish territory. It's not easy to come by out here." She informed him.
"I'll say!" He replied, sitting, disappointed, at a table, and taking out an old newspaper to read.
"Victoria," Don Alejandro, who had been sitting at one of the back tables, having heard their conversation, came to talk to her, "the man looks as if he had a long journey, and, since I was going to buy it anyway, how about you sell me that bottle of yours, and pour him a glass? I'll take the rest of it later, when I return to the hacienda."
Victoria nodded and, as usual, did as the old don asked. A couple of minutes later, Duncan was getting his glass of whisky and was informed that his room was ready.
"I thought you only sold it by the bottle." He remarked when Victoria brought it to him.
"I do. Don Alejandro, one of the local caballeros, bought the bottle and asked me to offer you a glass." She replied, indicating the person she was referring to and who was, at the moment, engaged in a discussion with two of his friends.
"Tell him I appreciate it, but I am no charity case!" Duncan informed her, rejecting, although reluctantly, the offered glass.
When she did so, Don Alejandro came to his table to apologize for the unintended insult, insisting that it was his pleasure to offer him the drink as a sign of hospitality.
Duncan seized him up, decided the man was being sincere, then apologized for having reacted in such a way to his generosity, and invited him to take a seat next to him. The old don accepted, then signaled Victoria to bring back the glass and also pour some whisky for him, as well.
"Where are you from, Senor Duncan?" The caballero asked after introductions were made.
"Scotland, originally." His interlocutor replied.
"I see…" Don Alejandro uttered, pensively.
"Does my origin offend you?" Duncan asked, suddenly feeling insulted. He later attributed his foul mood to tiredness.
"By no means!" The old don replied. "It's just that our Alcalde tends to be a little… how to say… paranoid about strangers. I'm afraid it might take him little time and absolutely no proof to decide you are a spy sent by the British."
"That's nonsense! I am Scottish!" Duncan retorted as he felt no added explanation was needed.
"I'm just warning you, Senor! Not long ago, my son and I found an Oriental… a fisherman from Osaka. He was shipwrecked on our shore, and barely even spoke our language. The moment the Alcalde laid eyes on him, he simply decided he was a spy and arrested him on the spot, forcing him to run behind his stallion all the way from my hacienda to the pueblo. Or, at least, he would have forced him to do so, had Zorro not intervened."
"Zorro? That masked outlaw on the posters all over this territory?"
"Masked hero." Victoria corrected him from behind the bar, where she was re-arranging some bottles while eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Indeed. Zorro is considered a hero of the people here, in Los Angeles. He saved my life more than once. You should see him in action, Senor! The lancers don't stand a chance against him. Sometimes, I swear the man has some power to deflect bullets… or is bulletproof. And his skill with the sword… there are not many as gifted as him, I tell you!" Don Alejandro supported Victoria's intervention.
"Bulletproof… And skilled with the sword?" Duncan extracted the information he found relevant, instantly wondering if the man was not one of his own kind. That would make for an easy unmasking. At least to him.
By that point, Duncan MacLeod, of the clan MacLeod had been alive for over two centuries. He had met, in all that time, all sorts of Immortals. From the noblest ones, such as his teacher and fellow clan man, Connor MacLeod, to the cold-blooded murderer John Durgan. His own past was not exactly lacking in deeds he now regretted, and would gladly take back, if that was, at all, possible. He, thus, knew that, just like in the case of ordinary men, anything was to be expected from the Immortals.
"And how many people has this hero of yours killed so far?" He continued to ask, this time in a mocking tone.
"Zorro doesn't kill, Senor! It is against his principles!" Don Alejandro replied. "Ever since he appeared, almost a decade ago, the man has done nothing but help people! And he has done so without asking for anything in return. All his actions have only served the cause of justice, and he has constantly risked his life to serve that cause!" He continued, pride in his voice.
The old don was, indeed, proud of their hero, even though he had no idea it was his son under the black mask, a son which, ironically, he had even called a coward at one point, about a year and a half earlier.
He was usually avoiding discussing their hero, however. Firstly because, since the masked outlaw had publicly declared his decision to stop courting the taverness – if one could call flatteries and hand kisses, offered in the short moments he wasn't ducking bullets, 'courtship' – he wanted to avoid upsetting her by mentioning him. Secondly, he did so because, for the last few weeks, Don Alejandro had seen his son and the taverness he loved like his own daughter grow closer than ever before. He was, thus, starting to hope that one day he might see them married to each other and mentioning Zorro, he knew, only pushed that day further and further away.
"An outlaw who doesn't kill and risks his life to help people. That's something I haven't seen before!" Duncan retorted with some amusement, having already decided in his mind that he was dealing with an Immortal. One who didn't kill was hard to come across. But then he considered, there are several I know who don't kill mortals… Now he was simply wondering if he should stay and meet him, or just take his horse and leave as soon as he had gotten some rest. He was not in the mood for a fight, should the masked man challenge him.
"Stick around and you just might. But don't get your hopes too high! The man is quite unpredictable!" Don Alejandro concluded their discussion and, after emptying his glass, he offered Duncan another, and said his goodbyes, heading for the church to discuss with the padre*.
"Senorita!" Duncan called Victoria. "Would you mind telling me what is there for lunch at your tavern?"
"Not at all!" She answered as she brought over the bottle to pour Duncan another drink. "We have albondigas soup, carne assada, arroz con pollo and enchiladas.*"
"And what would you recommend?" He asked, doing his best effort to seem charming. The taverness was beautiful, and, while he was not very inclined to get another heartbreak at that point, he was missing some romance in his life.
"The enchiladas! They are very good!" She answered with an innocent smile.
"Enchiladas, then." The Highlander agreed. Victoria nodded and headed for the kitchen, a mischievous smile on her lips. A couple of minutes later, she returned with the plate and placed it right in front of him, together with a loaf of fresh bread. It all smelled wonderful, and Duncan was pretty hungry. After cautioning him that the meal was "very hot", she wished him "Buen provecho!*", and went about serving other customers, keeping, however, an eye fixed on him.
Duncan took a large bite and instantly felt as if his mouth was on fire. He took his glass and drank, thinking a liquid would help, completely forgetting it was whisky and not water or juice. The drink only made things worse as he expelled it in a most ungentlemanly fashion, and turned completely red. Satisfied and terribly amused at his reaction - although not so much with the cleaning she needed to do - Victoria finally took pity on him and brought the man a glass of water, also instructing him to eat the bread.
"Are you trying to kill me?" He accused her when he finally stopped weeping and could feel his mouth again. She was cleaning the table at that point, barely containing her laughter.
"Let me remind you, Senor," she retorted "that I did tell you that the enchiladas were hot!"
"I thought you meant that you had just taken them out of the stove or whatever you use to cook those things! You didn't tell me they were made with actual burning fire inside!" He reproached her as he was using the napkin she had provided him with to clean himself.
"I can hardly read your mind, can I? And they are made with meat and chili peppers, not with fire!" She answered back as her bad mood was returning.
"Alright!" Duncan wisely conceded, as a smile crept on his face at looking at her. "You did warn me. It was my fault. And I think we've started on the wrong foot here. How about you bring me something else… less hot… the least hot you have, in fact. And I would be honored if you'd have lunch with me." He asked, seriously considering seducing the fiery woman. He always liked spirited ladies and she was, certainly, one of the most spirited he'd ever known. Not to mention, extremely attractive.
"As long as you understand that you are to pay for three portions, why not?" She replied, teasingly, suddenly finding herself ignoring her resolution not to flirt with the good-looking stranger. It served Diego right since he was spending his day with that woman!
"I understand that perfectly!" Duncan replied, wondering how much that would cost him and if he had enough pesos with him.
A few minutes later, after she had sent the Alcalde's lunch to his office with one of the lancers - considering that the man was avoiding to put foot into the tavern as long as Senora Del Rioblanco was there - and made sure her helpers could handle the workload without her, she returned to Duncan's table, bringing two portions of arroz con pollo, a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.
"Lunch is on you, the lemonade is on me." She informed him.
"Lemonade?" He puffed. "I'd think some wine might go better with this delicious meal. My treat, of course!" Duncan gallantly offered.
"Very well!" She agreed, yet had no intention to become indebted to the man. "But I already have an open bottle in the kitchen. No use paying for a new one, since it would only go to waste otherwise."
About an hour and two bottles of wine later, Victoria, who had, uncharacteristically, overdone it with the alcohol and completely forgotten her duties, and Duncan, who very much enjoyed her company, were chatting and laughing like old friends. Unsure how to react to her employer's strange behavior, Pilar, one of Victoria's helpers, closed for siesta a little after 2 pm and left the taverness and her charming new guest all by themselves, in the empty taproom. Nobody bothered them for at least one more hour.
When they heard knocks on the door, though, a little before 3 pm, Duncan suggested they hide in his room, so that they wouldn't be bothered, and Victoria was drunk enough to agree. Once there, he tried to kiss her but, even in her inebriated state, the taverness mustered enough spirit to push him away. In fact, she pushed him away so hard that, in the very small room, he hit his head on the door frame and passed out on the floor, next to the bed, while she passed out on it.
At her return, an hour later, Pilar found them both sleeping in his room with the door open. She chuckled, and unsuccessfully tried to wake Victoria up. When that failed, she considered closing the door, but realized that such an action might harm the taverness' reputation more than a piece of gossip about her getting drunk ever would - especially since her erratic behavior had been noticed in the pueblo and already attributed to her split from the masked outlaw - so she went about her business, leaving them as they were, sleeping with the door open.
For the next hour, several of the patrons caught a glimpse of the scene in the small room, then joined the people in the taproom to gossip about the scandalous behavior of their favorite taverness, and that of the dashing stranger. Even De Soto, who had found out that the woman he was trying to avoid was away for the day, came to take a look, and, after instructing Mendoza to collect the travelers' tax as soon as the newcomer would awake, he left the establishment with a satisfied smile on his face, imagining Zorro challenging the man to a duel to save Victoria's reputation.
The fun ended when Don Alejandro returned for his bottle of whisky, and intervened, getting one of his vaqueros to carry Victoria to her room.
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*Padre en. Father/Friar
*albondigas soupen. meatball soup; carne assada – en. fried meat;arroz con polloen. rice with chicken; enchiladasen. filled tortillas in sauce.
*Buen provecho! = en. Enjoy your meal!