Author's Note: Thank you to mjesd2, CrazyJan57, ABlape, and katie1999 for your kind reviews-you really made my day! Hope you enjoy this next chapter and the ones to come.

When Mendoza returned to the barracks, he discovered that his room had been requisitioned to provide space for a group of the soldiers. His belongings had been tossed on a cot moved into the main room of the garrison, alongside the other lancers. That evening, over dinner, there was an uneasy tension between the new soldiers and the lancers.

"Why do we need them here?" muttered Pedro. "Aren't we good enough?"

There was a low murmuring among the lancers. Mendoza let it go on for a few moments, then stood up. "That's enough. These men are only staying until they receive new orders, then they will leave. Don't start trouble and there won't be any." After looking at a couple of the men sternly, Mendoza sat down. The new soldiers, too, murmured among themselves. Then one of them nudged Sanchez. Sanchez rose to his feet and picked up his cup. He walked over to Mendoza and looked for a place to sit. The lancers were seated fairly close together and seeing the new man looking for a seat, they nudged even closer and looked up as if to challenge him to do anything about it.

Sanchez stood silently for a moment, then spoke calmly. "Sergeant Mendoza, would you step outside with me for a moment? I need to talk to you about the arrangements in your room." Mendoza rose from his seat and followed the Imperial soldier out into the garrison courtyard. Once outside, Sanchez began, "You are the leader of these men?"

"Si," replied Mendoza. I am the highest ranked among the lancers and have served the longest at this post."

"Your men do not appreciate having us here." It was a statement and yet a question. "But unfortunately, we will have to get along for some time it seems. I would like us to come to an understanding so that there is no trouble." Sanchez looked at Mendoza, waiting to see his response. He hoped he could trust this man.

"For some time? I do not understand. I thought that it would just be a matter of a few days or weeks until a courier could come from Mexico City with new orders."

"It seems that your alcalde has plans for our group. He has ordered us to stay to help him catch some renegade called Zorro. He has authority over us as the most senior representative of the king in the area and it is not clear how long he will want us to stay. We are, of course, awaiting orders, but I get the impression that we will not receive them until this alcalde wants them to arrive."

With Sanchez's words, a jumble of emotions began to swirl around in Mendoza's mind. He wasn't sure what Sanchez was looking for from him. How was he expected to react to this news? So the move from his room was not just for convenience to get the soldiers out of Victoria's tavern: it was a demotion of sorts—not official, he was still a sergeant, but just as hurtful. He remembered the parting words of the padre after confession, the touch of warmth from the sun as he had exited the church. It seemed flat now and his heart grew cold inside.

"Well," he finally answered, "you may be right. We will have to wait and see what the alcalde has planned for us. Con permiso." Mendoza turned to leave but Sanchez put out a hand to stop him. "We don't want any trouble." Mendoza looked up at the night sky. "You won't have any…. from me," he said. "And I'll do what I can with the men." Without looking back, Mendoza went back inside. The men looked at him questioningly but Mendoza had nothing to say. He kept to himself the rest of the evening except to scold when anyone started talking against the other soldiers. After checking on the two lancers posting guard, he took his place on the cot amongst the others.

In a short while, their breathing became regular and a few started snoring. But Mendoza could not sleep. Why had the alcalde chosen to involve these soldiers in going after Zorro? He knew that his men had never been able to capture the outlaw. After a while, they had stopped really trying, especially after he had saved their lives after a cave-in. But these new soldiers had no such loyalty. They didn't know the many good things that Zorro had done, like capturing bandits and preventing the alcalde from hanging innocent people. But they did have newer weapons. He had seen how much more effective these rifles were than the older muskets that were standard issue at the cuartel. Was that why the alcalde was getting them involved? Mendoza sighed and lay back down to sleep. He didn't like this new development but wasn't sure what could be done about it. Maybe he would talk to Sanchez in the morning and try to explain why he and his men shouldn't get involved in this fight. What was he thinking? A soldier didn't think about his orders. A soldier obeyed. There was nothing to explain. Nothing to do. Mendoza fell asleep.

He dreamed. He had gone to visit his house and the doorknob had come off in his hand. Then the doors had given way at the slightest touch. He remembered coming to with the house on fire all around him, the pain of his head, the acrid smoke filling his lungs. Then the sudden lift, being carried out of his house and laid on the cool ground outside. He crossed himself and looked up into the eyes of the man who had saved him—Zorro. Suddenly, the crack of multiple rifles went off and Zorro fell. He felt the wet stickiness of blood and heard his own voice cry out: "Nooooooooooooo!" He woke up, bolt upright and bathed in sweat. A man next to him looked up at him, then rolled over. A grunt and a snore, then the room was quiet again.

Tomorrow morning the patrols would start with the new men, the new weapons. But perhaps tonight, he could find Zorro himself. Mendoza arose and grabbed his jacket and boots. Walking quietly to the door, he waited till he was outside to put them on. Then he went out to the stables and unhitched his horse. He passed the guard without incident and went out into the night. He hated the night. It had always seemed filled with unseen dangers. Night was the time of ghosts and phantoms. But now the night would be his friend for it would lead him to Zorro.