Three weeks ago
Zorro stopped at the abandoned Indian village he had unintentionally ridden into, up in the San Bernardino Mountains. He dismounted Toronado to examine the remains of a bonfire in the middle of the village. The ashes looked recent, with the core still warm, so he concluded the people had left the settlement not long ago. He wondered why they would have left in such a hurry, in the middle of the summer. Diego knew the nomadic customs of the Indians in the area, who would move their camps from the mountains to the valley in the winter, and vice versa in the summer, but that was an unlikely reason for this move, being so out of season.
Since his encounter with the little Indian boy at the building site, Diego had wondered about his secretive attitude and the source of the materials for his collar, and if that yellow piece was really gold. If there was gold in the area, the Indians could learn to mine it efficiently and that would be a huge help for their communities, although the presence of gold could also be a great hazard for the Indians if it attracted a large number of unscrupulous white settlers in search of an easy fortune. Nevertheless, it was pointless to speculate because that little piece could have originated somewhere else, as the Indians usually covered a large area to trade. With nothing else more exciting to do at the moment in Los Angeles, Diego had saddled the black stallion and had made the long trek to San Bernardino as Zorro to have a look at the area.
Zorro mounted back on Toronado and continued his way up the mountain. It was a hot July afternoon and the horse puffed several times, complaining of the heat, slapping the annoying flies away with furious sweeps of his long tail. Close to the abandoned village there was a small river, where they stopped to drink the fresh running water. While cupping his hand to collect some water for the third time, Zorro noticed a little yellow pebble shining among the others at the river bed. He carefully picked it up between his thumb and index finger and inspected it closely. Then he smiled, amazed. That looked like gold, indeed.
ZZZ
Luis Ramón, Don Alfonso and Oliver were also at the San Bernardino Mountains that afternoon, only a couple of miles away from Zorro.
"I have to admit I despise these savages, but I certainly don't approve your methods, Don Alfonso," the alcalde of Los Angeles said. "Is that really necessary?" he asked while watching Don Alfonso's men burn an entire Indian village after they had chased the inhabitants out into the woods by relentlessly firing their guns at them.
"We have to drive away all the Indians from the area so we can claim their land afterwards. Would you prefer if we kill them all instead?" Don Alfonso said, contemptuous. At least, he had instructed his men to fire over the Indians' heads and not to their bodies unless they were trying to retaliate, and he didn't feel any remorse for these actions. The little voice in his conscience was really quiet, not nagging at all in this occasion.
"Absolutely not. After all, they can become tax-payers someday," the alcalde pondered, ever so greedy.
"Will you help us to get a new land grant?" Oliver said.
"This land belongs to the Padres at the mission San Gabriel. There is little I can do about that," the alcalde said.
"Yes, we know that," Don Alfonso said. "However, I would imagine that a man of your position and influence could get a new document, even produce a forged one if it was necessary. The mission system is doom to fail, anyway. Sooner or later all the land will be in the hands of the Dons. You'll see. It's only a matter of time. And I want to be the first."
"What would I gain from this?"
"Five per cent of the profits would be to your satisfaction?" Don Alfonso said.
"Profits from what? Farming?"
"You'll see in due time," Oliver said.
"Let's make it twenty five," the alcalde said, showing his slyest smile, "and you'll have a deal."
ZZZ
A column of dark grey smoke raised above the centenary pines. Zorro saw it from the distance, and headed that way urging Toronado to a fast gallop up the mountain. By the time they got there, the flames had caught in the bushes and vegetation around the Indian village, and the whole area was on fire. Unable to stop it, and fearing for his own safety, Zorro headed back to Los Angeles, wondering who could be behind such atrocity.
He arrived at the pueblo late in the evening, after dusk, and before heading to the Hacienda de la Vega he decided to stop for a drink and the chance of a kiss. Victoria had already closed the tavern for the night and the last clients had left not so long ago. Zorro knew she would be busy at the kitchen tidying up for a while, so he sneaked at the back and waited for her while she cleaned the tables, immobile and inconspicuous against the wall, by the door.
Victoria came back to the kitchen carrying a large load of empty jars and glasses in a wooden tray, and passed by Zorro without noticing him. He stood still as a statue, with a silent smile dancing on his lips. He loved watching her when she went about her routines, busy as a laborious buzzing bee, unaware she was not alone. That night, he enjoyed the way she wiped her sweaty forehead with her naked forearm in the most unladylike manner when she thought nobody was watching; and that stubborn lock of dark hair falling over her eyes while she was washing the dishes, and the little puffs she did trying to blow it away back with the others where it belonged; and the way she sniffed the air several times, which reminded him of a little, fluffy rabbit happy to find something to eat, although she didn't looked delighted but disgusted and worried at the same time; and...
His special contemplation moment finished abruptly when she suddenly turned around.
"Zorro!" she exclaimed with a little jump, taken by surprise. "What are you doing here? I thought I could smell something burning."
"I'm sorry, Victoria. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to see you." He slowly moved away from the wall, closer to her. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
"Yes, I am, of course, but…" He didn't let her finish, leaning forward to kiss her. She fell helplessly into his tight embrace, her breath taken away. When, out of biological necessity, she breathed again after several long, infinite seconds, she suddenly pushed him away. "It is you! You stink of smoke!"
"Do I?" Zorro said, sniffing his sleeve. "Yes, I do. I was caught in a wild fire in the San Bernardino Mountains this afternoon."
"Are you all right? Did you get hurt?"
"No, I am fine, don't worry. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I was surrounded by flames. I hope it eventually died out, but the vegetation is so dry this season it could have affected a large area."
An impatient soft neigh by the window interrupted then. Zorro laughed.
"That must be Toronado. I promised him it would not take too long to say hello. He must be tired and thirsty. I think I should go now." He loved the disappointed look in Victoria's face.
"If you must… But first, have a drink yourself. It is a long way from San Bernardino to… wherever you are heading now. Here," she said, serving him the remains of the lemonade in the jar. She watched him gulping it down, mesmerized by the little drops which had escape from his lips and were slipping down his neck around his Adam's apple. In her mind, there was only one proper way to wipe that off. If only she would dare... if only.
"Thank you Victoria. Goodbye." He gave her a quick chaste kiss and, before she could get the courage to reach those drops of lemonade, he disappeared through the window.
"Next time. Oh, yes. Next time," she promised to herself, dreaming, licking her lips.
ZZZZZ