In the meanwhile, both Victoria and Duncan had awakened, and were struggling with a bad hangover and with trying to remember what had happened after Pilar had left the tavern. Don Alejandro assured her that nobody thought any less of her because of the incident, and that it was completely understandable in her current state.
Only it wasn't. Victoria knew that he was referring to the split-up with Zorro, but, in reality, it had nothing to do with the masked outlaw, and everything to do with his son, as she finally admitted to herself.
She was mortified, though, despite the old don's words, and couldn't look anyone in the eyes, keeping her right hand on her face as she stood at one of the tables at the back of the taproom, talking with the man who had been her surrogate father for a decade and a half at that point.
De Soto had returned to the tavern as soon as he was informed that she was awake, and was having the time of his life watching her fidget as Mendoza, sitting right in front of him, was telling him something he wasn't finding interesting enough to hear.
Duncan had less trouble dealing with the situation. He was no two-hundred-year-old virgin, and had not lived for two centuries in vain. In all that time, he had been with many women and had also learned that the scandal will fade as soon as a new piece of gossip would become more enticing. He was feeling bad for the taverness, though. After spending years in the United States, he had thought her to be just like the women working in the taverns there: a woman with low morals, always ready to get an attractive man into her bed. Instead, he realized he had been wrong and the woman, despite her romance with the pueblo's legendary outlaw, was considered one of the most respectable senoritas in the territory.
After reluctantly paying the travelers tax and getting a glass of lemonade from Pilar, he ignored the pain that light was causing his eyes, and walked out on the terrace, looking at the plaza. De Soto, who was in a very good mood, chose that very moment to join him and see if he could find some hot, new piece of information, straight from the stranger's lips.
"Nothing happened!" Duncan replied to a rather indecent question asked by the Alcalde. "She had a bit too much to drink, as did I. She didn't like my advances, so she pushed me into the nearby door. I was knocked unconscious, and I guess she passed out on the bed." He explained to the amused De Soto. Annoyed by the suggestive look he received in return, the older man decided to change the subject. "Tell me, Alcalde, why have you never captured that masked bandit of yours, El Zorro?" He inquired.
The other man was taken aback by the question, but the grin didn't completely disappear from his face. Instead, thinking of Zorro, he was wondering what would the masked man do to the stranger for having achieved in one afternoon the one thing he had spent a decade avoiding: compromising Victoria.
"Why? Are you also a bounty hunter?" De Soto mocked.
"Maybe I want to become one." Duncan suggested.
"What can I say?" The Alcalde inquired. "The man is a wanted outlaw with a price on his head. He enjoys thwarting my plans and managed to fool these good people into believing he is some kind of hero."
"I know that much. But how good is he with the sword? What's his fighting style? Has he even been wounded? How does he look?" Duncan insisted.
"Unfortunately, he's rather good with the weapon, but I have no idea who his fencing master was, nor did I ever recognized his style. He seems to combine several. Despite the fact that I was one of the best swordsmen in my class at the Academy, I only managed to get him injured once, and that seemed to have no effect on him. The only other time I've seen him wounded was when some Indians made him pass some challenges… they beat him to a pulp, then forced him to defend himself against their best warrior. When he did that, they had him climb the so-called Wall of Death and he prevailed, despite his injuries. As for the way he looks, if I knew, he would have already hanged! That mask, unfortunately, does a very good job at hiding his features!"
"Yes, I understand that. But you must have noticed some other characteristics. Is he tall or short? Is he blonde or black-haired? What color are his eyes?"
De Soto puffed and tried to remember, reluctantly. "Tall… Taller than me, at least. Black-haired, wears a moustache. But hair can be painted and a moustache can be glued on, both of which would be in character for that masked fiend. His eyes… Light-colored. Perhaps blue or green... or light brown. I'll take a better look the next time I see him."
Duncan suddenly felt the presence of another Immortal nearby. "I believe you are about to have that opportunity!" He stated, getting up from the bench on which he was sitting just as Diego entered the plaza from the street behind the tavern, mounted on Esperanza.
"I'm afraid you must be mistaken…" De Soto replied, dismissing the caballero after only one look in his direction. Duncan wondered how was he not seeing the unmasked man he had just described heading towards them, but said nothing of his suspicions. De Soto continued his train of thoughts "I hardly did anything to determine his presence in the…" at that point he stopped talking as he saw Mya also appearing right behind Diego. "That woman!" He exclaimed. "I have to go, Senor!" The Alcalde informed him, and hurriedly made his way towards his office, while Duncan looked towards his departing figure with some amusement, then turned to eye the woman closely.
"Myrina!" He whispered as she climbed down her mount, and came to stand before him.
"Duncan MacLeod!" She greeted. "I hope you're not here for me! Or, should I hope you are?" She phrased her first question as a warning, and the second as an invitation.
"I've learnt enough from my mistakes to know that the best answer to those questions is 'No'," he uttered, although his tone was teasing. "I'm neither as young nor as foolish as I was the last time we've met, Your Highness!"
"Your Highness?" Diego questioned, approaching them after having tied the horses to the pole in front of the tavern.
"Just a joke between old friends, Diego!" Mya clarified. "This is Duncan Macleod!" She introduced him.
"Diego de la Vega. Welcome to Los Angeles, Senor MacLeod!" The caballero greeted politely. "Are you also here to hunt down Zorro, as Senora Del Rioblanco?"
"Del Rioblanco? As in one of the two rivers uniting to form the Amazon?" Duncan noted with a smile, then, turning towards Diego, he sized him up, wondering if he was right when first he saw him. The caballero fit the description of the masked outlaw, but was no Immortal. "You don't need to worry about me, Senor. I am just passing through! But I'd stay away from her if I were you!" He warned, gaining a disapproving stare from Mya.
"You can't still be upset, Duncan!" She uttered in disbelief.
"Upset? Why would I be upset?"
"Diego!" Don Alejandro called at seeing him on the terrace, just before he threw a scolding look in Duncan's direction. "You're finally back, Son! What happened to you? Don't tell me you've gotten yourself lost again!" He continued asking, signaling for the tall caballero to follow him inside.
Duncan watched them as they entered, considered how the old don must be regretting his generosity towards him at that point, then turned back towards Mya.
"So… You've decided to come to the New World after all!"
"Yes. I finally got tired of the old one. New World… New Start… I wandered the Old World for long enough!"
2283 years, to be more precise.
Myrina, as Mya's true name was, had lived her first life as an Amazon warrior, and died, in battle, at the age of merely twenty-three. When she was resurrected as an Immortal, there was no one to guide her, or to explain her the rules of The Game. No one to tell her that she should fear beheading, since there was no coming back from that; no one to tell her about the Holy Ground providing sanctuary against attacks from other Immortals; no one to explain The Quickening, or The Gathering to her.
She was, however, already a very skilled fighter, perfectly able to hold her own against any man.
Instead of fearing her resurrection, her sister Amazons revered her and made her their queen, certain that the Gods were walking with her. Soon, most of their tribes decided to follow her, and she led them into epic battles, defeating any enemy who dared oppose them. They pillaged and killed, leveled villages and towns, leaving only destruction in their wake. So feared she soon became that entire citadels started surrendering before her, not even daring to fight her army.
That, however, all came to an abrupt end the day she met the first other Immortal. He was tall and strong, much older than her and much more experienced in battle; a Thracian warrior set on defending his people from the threat she and her army posed.
Their fight almost resulted in her permanent demise, had the man decided to take her head on the battlefield. But that was against the rules. Instead, he planted a knife into her heart, and took the body away, imprisoning the Amazonian queen with the intention of beheading her later, in combat, when she'd feel well enough to fight him.
She was lucky, though. The Thracian was an honorable man, too honorable for his own good. At realizing she had never had any guidance or training after becoming Immortal, before their duel started, he took the time to explain to her the rules followed by their kind. It turned out to be one of the last mistakes he had ever made.
Armed with all the knowledge he had offered her, Myrina, who was much less honorable than the man and only cared about her own survival, tricked him and won their fight, taking his head. It had been her first Quickening and, with it, came a different perspective on life. Instead of an aggressor, from that moment on, she became a protector.
That was why she had never returned to her tribe, but travelled east, helping the tribes she found on her way, never spending too long in one place, and avoiding, as much as possible, the other Immortals. Unable to bear children, she found that being barren was as much of a blessing as it seemed, to others, as a curse. She could have any man she wanted, any time, with no consequences, no disease to catch, no child to raise and sacrifice for. She was free in the truest sense of the word. And she took full advantage of her freedom, in all the time she had it.
Thus, apart from protecting others, mainly defenseless women and children, most of her life Myrina spent as a lover. The idea of being somebody's wife seemed appalling to her, so she only married when circumstances didn't give her any other choice, then left her husbands as soon as she had the opportunity.
In almost 2300 years, she had had fourteen different husbands and thousands of lovers. She had known great victories and great defeats. Had suffered losses, seen all her efforts prevail, then fail nonetheless, had witnessed new religions spread across the world and transforming to become unrecognizable to those who had been there at their beginnings. She had been worshiped, followed, chased away, killed and enslaved, used and served.
Myrina had met great leaders and great oppressors, conquerors and conquered, and had done her share of fighting, perhaps more than most Immortals walking the Earth. In the end, she decided that fighting in the wars of the mortals was useless. They were all caught up in their own cycle, never learning, forever condemned to repeat the same mistakes.
She had once been capable of love, but, in time, closed her heart to the others, no longer willing to put herself through the pain she experienced every time someone she cared for died. Detachment was the only way to protect herself, and be able to still enjoy life. Now, however, she was suddenly fearing that that protective wall she had built might crumble and fall because of two caramel-colored eyes. It's why she had told Diego that she wanted to keep seeing Felipe. It was also why she didn't insist when he had argued against that idea. Not so much because she might hurt him – which she knew she would either way – but because she was afraid of becoming in any way attached to the young man.
Duncan showing up shook her from her thoughts, and made her wonder if his presence might be able to get her back on track, and keep her mind from focusing on Felipe. After all, she was not there for him, but to stop a masked bandit.
"Bounty hunter?" Duncan inquired.
"Why not? I'm better than the ones they have here."
"Still playing with food before eating it, I see…" He commented, referring to Diego, unaware Myrina was not even suspecting that the caballero was the man she was after.
"I really have no idea what you are talking about, Duncan! Now, if you don't mind, I need a bath! Actually, you also look like you need one. We can share…" She suggested and immediately found herself regretting the suggestion for a reason she couldn't yet understand.
"No, thank you!" He replied and, despite being upset with her, he found himself smiling.
"Suit yourself!" Mya answered with some relief, then entered the establishment, heading for her room.
Duncan took another look around the plaza then followed her inside to get himself another drink.