Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers for the continued encouragement. It means so much! Keep sending it, please.
For those of you who can't wait for the swashbuckling action, or romance, bear with me just a little longer... they're coming.
The reports came in slowly at first. A farmer complained that the Imperial soldiers had demanded a chicken as payment to pass through on the road to town. A couple said that the soldiers had overturned their cart and gone through the belongings, saying they were looking for contraband. When they went to clean up the mess, they found that their dishes were broken. After a while, everyone seemed to know someone that had lost something to the soldiers on patrol.
Pedro was muttering to his companion over lunch. "It's not right, I say. My cousin was minding his own business, plowing the field. The soldiers came up and demanded 10 pesos or they would take his donkey. What could he do? You can't plow without a donkey. But 10 pesos, that is a lot of money for us peones. It's just not right. The alcalde sends them out on patrol to catch bandits and they are the bandits! The day I find out who was responsible….." Pedro stopped as he realized that Mendoza was listening. He waited to see Mendoza's reaction. Mendoza looked at Pedro for a minute, then rose and left the room. He went out to the plaza and looked around. He could see Sanchez at the gate, sending off one of the patrols. He crossed over to join him.
"Sanchez, I have been getting reports that some of your men are demanding money and goods from the local people. You are in charge of these soldiers, you must get to the bottom of this and discipline the men responsible."
"I'm sorry, Sergeant Mendoza, but I take my orders from the alcalde. If you have a problem with them, you must take it up with him."
"I know you take your orders from the alcalde, but what does that have to do with it? Your orders are to go on patrol, not extort money from the people. "
"Sergeant, I don't have time to discuss this with you. Take it up with the alcalde." Sanchez turned away and began to call together a group of men for the next patrol.
Mendoza was stunned. "No," he said. "For this, you will make time. We will go together to the alcalde." The sergeant grabbed Sanchez by the arm and led him toward the alcalde's office. The men of the patrol began to follow, until waved off by a gesture of Sanchez. "Esta bien"-"It's all right," he said.
Mendoza knocked on the door of De Soto's office. He heard the alcalde grunt his permission to enter and brought Sanchez in with him. De Soto looked at Mendoza, then at Sanchez. "What is the problem?" he barked.
Mendoza licked his lips nervously, then began. "Alcalde, people are reporting that the Imperial soldiers are demanding bribes and threatening people while out on patrol." The alcalde stared at him, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. Mendoza hesitated, looked at Sanchez, who was waiting silently with a blank expression on his face, then back at De Soto. "Alcalde. These men are strangers here, they do not have relatives among the people, but they will obey you." Mendoza stopped and waited for De Soto's reply. His silence confused Mendoza. Had he not heard? Had he not understood? He wanted to shout, "Alcalde, find out who has done this and punish them! Make them stop!" Instead, faced with the alcalde's continued silence, he only said, "I thought you would want to know."
The alcalde looked at Mendoza with a mixture of anger and suppressed laughter. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to the increasingly nervous sergeant, he replied, "Your report is duly noted. I will look into this."
Looking back down at his papers, he waved his hand toward the door. "You are dismissed, Mendoza. Sanchez, you will remain. I have matters to discuss with you." Relieved, Mendoza saluted smartly, then turned and exited. De Soto waited until the door was closed, then motioned for Sanchez to come closer.
In a low but clear voice, De Soto spoke. "I am glad to see that your activities have been noticed. But they are still too small in scale. We must raise the stakes to flush out this bandit. Tell your men to increase their activities, to take larger amounts. That will get the Fox's attention! Then when Zorro comes out to interfere, we can spring our trap and eliminate him once and for all."
"It is making a lot of bad feeling in the town toward my men, alcalde. I see the looks of hatred when they pass through the market and there is a lot of muttering among the lancers. There could be trouble," warned Sanchez.
De Soto rose from his desk and circled it to be next to Sanchez. He put one arm over Sanchez's shoulders and with the other hand pointed at a painting on the wall. "Do you know who that is, Sanchez?" he asked.
"No, alcalde."
"That is a great man, Sanchez. His name was Machiavelli and he taught me everything I know about how to govern. He said, 'It is much more secure to be feared than to be loved.' I have no interest in being loved by these people, I have no respect for them. But I will be feared. And you will find that there is safety in being feared. Make yourself feared and there will be no trouble."
Sanchez looked at De Soto in silence. He had heard that kind of talk before. Emisario Resondo had believed much the same thing—and it led him only to an early and inglorious death. He wondered if he was destined to always serve ruthless, power-hungry men. But that was an empty question. He was here now and under this man. Until new orders came through, he had to please him, come what might. The interview over, Sanchez saluted and left the room.
Diego was in his armchair, looking over the score from Rossini's latest opera. It wasn't likely that he would hear it produced any time soon—the colony was too remote to imagine that a whole opera company would come from Spain in the near future—but several of the melodies would be pretty to play on the piano. He heard the door slam only seconds before an excited Felipe burst into the room. He gestured quickly but Diego could make it out without much difficulty.
"Soldiers. The Imperial soldiers. They stopped you on the way home from your run to town. They demanded money. They made you get out of the wagon and searched it. They threatened you. They took… no, they destroyed the papers and books I had sent you to get." Felipe finished and waited. "I'm sorry," he signed. "I wanted to fight but there were several of them and I had no weapon."
"No," Diego said, "I wouldn't want you to risk your life over a few books. Not even those ones." Books were rare and expensive, a precious possession for those who were able to get them out here in the colony. But Felipe's life was even more precious. A book could be replaced; a life, never. He saw Felipe's finger slash a "Z" in the air and his hands make the sign for question.
"Yes, perhaps it is time that Zorro investigated these soldiers. They are becoming a real terror to the community. My arm has healed from that gunshot wound and it is about time I got back to work. But I must be wise as my namesake or I may just end up shot again. We'll wait until this evening to act. Meanwhile, I'll see what information I can gather as a newspaperman! Come, let's go to the pueblo."