Finally, it is december 5th, and I may post the first chapter of this years Chirstmas story.
For the third year in a row, I am posting a Christmas story as a gift and thank you for reading my stories. I hope you will let me know your thoughts on this story by leaving a review.
I intend to have this story finished by Christmas.
With the death of Gilberto Risendo, the people of Los Angeles got left with more questions than answers. This story does not have the answers. But the recent events has caused a some changes.
It is a few weeks before Christmas. And alcalde de Soto invites Diego de la Vega into his office. The alcalde tells him he has unravelled Diego's most deepest secret.
Our hero will have to deal with the consequences this has for him and all he cares for.
I do not own any of the characters.
I do like receiving reviews. Enjoy!
Una (in)Feliz Navidad.
A (un)merry Christmas.
Chapter 1
December 5, the main road south of Los Angeles.
He had told his father nothing. His secret about his alters ego was still safe. Diego de la Vega was on his way to Los Angeles while, for the umpteenth time, his thoughts wandered to the events of a few weeks ago.
At the time, he had intended to confide in his father. To tell the man whose opinion he valued most that his son was Zorro. At the last moment, Diego had backed out, changed his mind and sought a poor excuse.
In retrospect, Diego liked to tell himself he had made the right decision. The discovery of the existence of a second son dying in his arms moments after had devastated don Alejandro.
His father was still trying to cope with what Inez Risendo had told him.
Whenever Diego thought of that fateful day, he got overwhelmed by disbelief.
He had a brother!
Diego remembered, all too well, how his mother and father had hoped for years their love to be blessed with a second child. And over thirty years after, the truth turned out there was a second child. A twin brother even! Diego had sensed there was some weird attraction drawing him to Gilberto Risendo. At that time, he hadn't understood why or what it was. Was it the invisible bond they said twins had? Had something inside him felt he and Gilberto were connected by something thicker than blood?
All his questions were left unanswered. The painful fact remained, Gilberto had come to Califonia wanting to murder his brother and father.
The thought of how the lives of his parents, his brother and himself, had things been different haunted Diego. If only Inez Risendo had not stolen Gilberto from a loving family.
Another thing that was constantly on Diego's mind was he had gotten away with lying about his second identity.
AGAIN!
His father had seen how his son dressed as Diego had fought against Gilberto.
Left-handed and injured, he had managed to overpower a hardened, trained, high-ranked army officer. Diego had been astonished when his father had accepted the lame excuse he had stuttered out for truth.
His father must have had some superstition.
Alejandro had asked how his son, known throughout the territory to be a clumsy and ill-equipped man, unable to handle a weapon, had suddenly become so good at wielding a sword.
Embarrassed, Diego had stammered out what he thought was an almost incredulous explanation for his actions.
He had told his father he thought it was because he believed himself in mortal danger. The thought of needing to fight for his life, and that of his father, somehow triggered an instinct Diego didn't know he had.
Diego had uttered, having no idea at all what or how he had been able to fight off Gilberto. The questioning stare in his father's eyes had vanished when Diego explained that perhaps Gilberto Risendo was weakened by the fight. First against Zorro and later on, by the old don.
In the middle of the plaza, his father had asked him what his son thought Gilberto had meant by the words, if I kill you, I'll not only kill a de la Vega but also...,
Diego had replied by saying again he had no idea what the man might have meant by these words.
Casually he had suggested whether it could be possible that Gilberto perhaps had intended to say was he was putting an end to the life of the brother he had always hated.
Gilberto got told from an early age how his father had accepted his brother as the true heir, rejecting his eldest son for having a minor handicap. Since, as it turned out, Diego was the youngest son. If that was true, and it was what señora Risendo claimed. Diego was stealing what was rightfully Gilberto's birthright. Alejandro had hesitated slightly. In the end, the don agreed to this option. Partly because he had no better suggestion, reconciling himself to the knowledge that they would never know for sure what the man had meant to say in the final moments of his life.
Diego sighed. The discovery that he had a twin brother was difficult to deal with. How different would his life have been had he and Gilberto grown up together? What similarities did they have, and what differences? These were questions he would never get satisfactorily answered.
Almost daily, Alejandro de la Vega visited the small cemetery in the pueblo. Six weeks ago, an unknown son got buried there. Next to the mother, he had never met.
His father refused to pronounce the name Risendo. So the simple, white tombstone read Gilberto de la Vega, son and brother.
Diego did not know what his father hoped to find in the cemetery, perhaps mere forgiveness.
Over the past weeks, Diego and Alejandro had talked about it many times. Had his mother suspected that she had given birth to two children? If so, she had taken her secret with her to the grave. As far as Diego and his father could remember, his mother had never said a word about it.
Diego did not doubt for a moment that his father had never suspected a thing.
Knowing it did not diminish the remorse his father felt for not being there for his son. His father had told Diego he believed to have failed his family. He felt responsible for what had happened.
Like Diego, his father also had questions. Should he have known? Should he have recognized his son instantly when he stood in the plaza? After all, Gilberto was his flesh and blood. And why had Inez Risendo kidnapped the child only to take her revenge over thirty years later?
At don Alejandro's request, alcalde de Soto had done his best to question señora Risendo. De Soto had asked the woman to explain why she had so cruelly taken a baby from what would have been a loving family.
The explanation the señora had given sent shivers of disgust down Diego's spine every time he thought about it.
The only thing señora Risendo had said was Alejandro de la Vega had ordered her to take Gilberto to an orphanage. Because shortly after his birth, there were indications that the infant had a handicap.
It was a big lie. You could say what you want about Alejandro de la Vega, but not that he was cruel. He would never reject anyone based on appearance. Let alone an infant and definitely not his own son. Alejandro judged people on their inner worth.
Although, Diego sighed again, admitting that his father could have put more effort into seeing the positive things in the son he had known all his life.
Besides, Felicia de la Vega would never have forgiven her husband had Alejandro been capable of such cruelty.
Diego had urged de Soto to be allowed to speak to señora Risendo himself. He wanted to make sure everything possible got done to unravel the truth. De Soto reluctantly agreed.
De Soto always had a hard time when it meant him having to admit someone might be better at things than he was. By the time, Diego had finally persuaded de Soto to allow him to speak to the señora alone, it was too late. Inez Risendo had committed suicide by ripping off a sleeve of her blouse and pulling it around her neck until she suffocated.
Gilberto's death had caused some changes in the hacienda.
His father seemed determined to accept the son he had known all his life as the man he was. Including all the shortcomings previously leading to annoyance and had caused many outbursts of frustration and countless fierce arguments.
His father's new interest in his son's doing caused an unwelcome curiosity in Diego's activities. It was something that did not necessarily make Diego happy.
Before Gilberto's arrival, Diego had always had to be wary of his father. Every time he was working in the cave Diego pricked up his ears for sounds coming from the hacienda. Felipe had a list of scenarios of the most possible and believable places for Diego to go when, in reality, he was out riding as Zorro.
It had often annoyed his father when his son had left without telling him where he was going. Yet, Alejandro had accepted Felipe's every excuse as the truth. If, for example, his confidant told his father that Diego was out fishing, the man believed it.
However, since Gilberto's passing Alejandro kept asking questions about his son's whereabouts.
For instance, yesterday, Zorro had been out because de Soto wanted to inspect the Indian camp. The alcalde had done this before. Mostly because de Soto believed there might be a chance of the Indians knowing if there was gold to be found in the area. And so Zorro had reminded the alcalde to respect the original inhabitants of California and their lands.
When Diego had returned, Alejandro had waited for his son and pelted him with questions. Suddenly his father wanted to know where he had fished and what he had caught.
Diego had shrugged his shoulders and admitted that the fish hadn't been willing to bite. Instead of making a harsh remark on how his son was good for nothing, the reaction Diego usually got from his father. Alejandro had patiently told him where he believed the best fishing spots were. For hours the don continued to advise his son what bait to use and insisted on inspecting the fishing rod.
His father had not wanted to leave him alone until Diego had promised to go fishing together the following week at what his father called, was the perfect spot.
His father also showed more interest in what the don had always dismissed as pointless activities.
So much so that Diego had felt forced to turn the small adjoining room of his private rooms into a hobby room. With Felipe's help, Diego placed a worktable in this room that was more a large closet.
They filled the room with all kinds of mysterious-looking instruments.
The shelves they filled with impressive-looking books in Latin and English. His father did not speak either language. The remaining shelves did they fill with bottles of coloured water and jars of harmless powders like sand and ground charcoal.
Overall, his life had not become any easier in the last six weeks.
Without being aware of it, Diego had arrived in Los Angeles. Out of habit, he wandered into the tavern and sat at an empty table. He ordered a cup of coffee and a bowl of tomato soup and then glanced around the room.
At one of the other tables sat a group of lancers.
Alicia was busy serving an elderly couple Diego knew was passing through to visit their son in San Diego.
Most of the other tables got occupied by vaqueros from the nearby ranchos.
Victoria was probably busy in the kitchen preparing meals, which was a pity. Diego had hoped she would have time to have a chat with him.
Maria put down a cup of coffee and told him the soup would be up in a minute.
Absentmindedly Diego muttered a gracias.
A moment later, the curtain that separated the kitchen from the dining room swung open. Diego thought he saw a wisp of green fabric from the skirt Victoria often wore.
Maria carried a tray with a bowl of steaming soup and a large lump of bread.
Diego enjoyed the soup while he slowly emptied the bowl.
To his regret, he had to accept that Victoria would not come out of the kitchen. The taproom was getting more crowded, and her helpers barely managed to serve everyone.
Victoria was too busy in the kitchen, providing everyone in the crowded tavern with a nutritious meal.
After he had finished his coffee and soup, Diego placed five coins on the table, got up, and left the tavern disappointed.
Esperanza stood in front of the tavern, drinking from the water trough.
Diego began to untie the reins from the beam as he spoke.
"Come on, chica, we'll go home."
Diego was just about to place his foot in the stirrup when he heard someone coughing behind him to make himself known to the don.
"Don Diego, just the man I needed to see."
The little hairs on Diego's neck immediately raised.
Alcalde de Soto rarely sought him out for a friendly chat.
Turning around, Diego asked. "What can I do for you, alcalde?"
Since Gilberto's death, de Soto seemed in a milder mood. That was only during his daily routines. As soon as there was the slightest hint of Zorro being around, the Soto reacted as fiercely as ever. By immediately ordering his men to arrest Zorro.
There had been less reason to ride as Zorro.
Zorro often rode out at night in search of scum who tried to enrich themselves easily as possible by causing harm to others.
At least once a week, de Soto found some bandits at the plaza early in the morning.
Except for the inspection of the Indian camp, Zorro had had little reason to call de Soto to account for bad management.
Apparently, the ease with which Gilberto had taken control of the pueblo and pronounced death sentences had made more impression on de Soto than had shown on the surface.
De Soto came up beside Diego and made a barely visible bow as a sign of respect for someone from pueblo's most prominent family.
"Would you mind walking with me to my office? There is something I would like to discuss with you."
Diego could hardly imagine what it could be. De Soto had only asked him for advice once before. Diego could barely suppress a grin as he recalled how Zorro had scared de Soto with his made-up Napoleon's shrinking disease.
With a simple gesture, Diego informed the alcalde he would follow him.
De Soto held the door open, allowing Diego to enter the office first. Observing Diego let his eyes glide around the room. He was scanning for snips of information that might be useful to Zorro. On the corner of the richly decorated desk was a pile of documents. Diego read the words on the top upside down and realized it was the last report on Zorro's doing's.
De Soto followed him in and seated behind his desk, uttering. "Sit down, please."
It made Diego even more on his guard. What was it de Soto did want? So much feigned friendliness did not bode well. Diego took a seat on the uncomfortable wooden chair. Wary but seemingly nonchalant, Diego waited for de Soto to start talking.
"Can I offer you a drink? A glass of fine wine perhaps?" Out of one of the drawers, de Soto took two glasses and a bottle of wine.
Diego noticed the bottle was open. It made him wonder whether de Soto had been waiting for the opportunity to arise to invite him in.
"Alcalde, why don't you start by telling me why I am here."
"Ah, yes, I will." De Soto sat up, cleared his throat, and twisted his finger around the tip of his beard. He let a long silence fall, looked Diego straight in the eye and suddenly said.
"Don Diego, the reason I asked you to come is rather simple." An evil grin appeared on de Soto's face. "I unravelled your deepest secret. And I mean the one you keep hidden for years."
.
.