I'm really sorry about how long it took me to update. I was busy with my studies and a story I wrote for NaNoWriMo.
For those readers who haven't watched the series, Placid is a canon character but Serrano is not. Placid didn't show up in the series until nearly the end, but I decided to use Gabriel's dismissal as an excuse to introduce him much earlier than that. He's an awesome character and while he only appeared in two episodes, I think he had more depth than most of the other army characters combined.
THE RIGHT TURN OF THE ROAD
Chapter 19
The dusty road spread far ahead of him. He could make out some trees in the distance, but other than that, there was nothing remarkable about the scenery. Rocks and little bushes speckled the otherwise plain ground. It had been like that ever since he had left the last town. He hoped that it would improve by the time he reached San Tasco. He wasn't sure if he'd get used to living in a place that looked like a desert.
Lieutenant Placid couldn't help but purse his lips at his thoughts. He had no reason to complain, he knew. He had only recently been promoted, so he was lucky to receive a new post this soon. He had heard there had been some trouble with his predecessor, but he didn't know the details, nor did he really want to. All that mattered to him was that the governor general had decided to send him to San Tasco, not one of the others. He would have to show his gratitude by serving the army as well as he could and not worry about trivialities like the scenery.
He had chosen to travel in civilian attire. It wasn't safe for an army officer to travel alone in some parts of the land, and he wanted to avoid unnecessary attention. This also gave him the chance to hear people talk without fear. So far he hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary. The peasants he had encountered had been poor and complained about the high taxes and that the army didn't do enough to protect them against bandits. Taxes of any kind felt bitter when you had little in the first place, and the army simply didn't have the resources to patrol regularly in these parts, so Placid wasn't very concerned by these opinions.
He shielded his eyes from the sun and brought his horse to a halt. It was almost noon, and he wanted to find some shade for the most unbearable hours of the day. He had been told that somewhere close by there was a tavern where messengers delivering mail could rest and switch horses. Sure enough, he could now make out several houses in the distance.
There was nobody in sight when he arrived at the tavern, so he took the right to lead his horse into the stable and give the animal some water. He saw four other horses, which meant that he probably wasn't the only customer. He made a note of that only one of the four seemed to be in good condition.
Poor things, he mused as he looked at the other horses and how badly they had been treated. They drew back their ears when he got a little too close, so he decided to go inside the tavern and buy some wine. As sad as this was, it wasn't his problem.
"Good day," he said when he stepped into the tavern and stopped to stand at the door. The place was bigger than it had looked from the outside. There was enough room for five tables and a large counter. A narrow staircase led upstairs, and the small windows left the room unpleasantly shadowy to his liking.
Three men were gathered around a table in the corner, lost in their game of cards. One of them looked up when he entered, but other than a slight frown, he gave no reaction before returning his attention to the game. On the opposite side of the room, a lone traveller was sitting with his back against the wall. He appeared to be lazily sipping his drink, but Placid immediately noted that it was only a ruse. The man was actually observing the others.
The owner hurried from the backroom when he heard him enter. He was a tall, middle-aged man.
"Welcome, sir," he said. "What can I do for you?"
"I'll just have some wine while I wait for the sun go down a little. I took my horse to the stable," Placid replied. He took a seat close to the door and put his hat on the table.
"I haven't seen you here before," the owner remarked as he placed a bottle and a mug before him.
"I'm from elsewhere," Placid said. He didn't want to appear unfriendly or suspicious, so smiled at the man as he continued, "My name is Emilio Placid. I'm going to San Tasco to look for work."
The owner shook his head. "Don't bother. San Tasco is getting worse every day."
"Why is that? I thought it was a prosperous town," Placid said, frowning as he poured himself some wine.
"Oh, it is, but it's not like the people get to enjoy it. Every peso goes to the pockets of the officers and their accomplices."
"Surely you exaggerate," Placid said. People talked like that all the time. Either they didn't understand how a country was run or they were too bitter to care. It wasn't like the officers took any of the tax money for themselves. Some of it was sent to Spain and the rest was used to improve the land and pay the people who kept things in order. Everything would have been in chaos without taxes, but he knew he couldn't expect the commoners to understand that.
"Go there and see for yourself," the owner grunted. He brushed his shirt like he wanted to get some dust off it. "If it wasn't for Zorro, the people in San Tasco would be in so much trouble."
Placid was about to take a sip of his wine, but he put the mug back down. "Who?"
"What, you don't know Zorro? You must be from very far away, then. He's a masked bandit who fights to right the wrongs and to stand up against the oppression from the army," the owner explained. An excited gleam entered his eyes, and Placid was a little startled by how much admiration this seemingly honest man had for a criminal. He glanced at the other customers, but nothing about them had changed.
"That sounds more like a ghost story to me," he dared to say.
"Believe me, if you're really going to San Tasco, you'll soon be glad that it's no such thing," the owner said. He turned around and returned behind his counter to sort through the bottles that he had under it.
Placid leaned back on his seat and pondered what he had just heard. This Zorro character could be trouble. Even if his intentions were honest and he was working for the good of the people in mind, he was going about it the wrong way. A rebel like that could easily win the people's favour, but it was the army that they should have placed their faith in. Maybe he would be able to do something about that once he arrived in San Tasco. After all, he had joined the army so that he could help others.
He glanced at the other customers. The lone traveller had placed his hat on his face and appeared to be asleep. The other three were no longer playing cards. One of them was shuffling the deck while the other two just sat in silence and stared at their drinks. They weren't doing anything wrong, but Placid couldn't help but get a bad feeling about them. They had to be the owners of the poor mistreated horses.
The silence was making him restless and overly conscious of himself. If he was looking at the others and trying to read them, surely they were doing the same to him. Maybe it would be for the best to clear the atmosphere a little and try to talk to them. That way, he'd know what they were like instead of having to make vague guesses.
Just as he was about to get up and approach the three men, the door was opened. Everyone turned to look, except the lone man who was asleep. A soldier stepped inside, carrying a large shoulder bag. He took off his hat as he entered and wiped his brow.
"Hey, Carrido. You haven't been here for a while," the owner said.
"I got into some trouble with the lieutenant and had to stay in San Tasco," Carrido replied. He walked to a table and took a seat with confident steps, like he had sat there countless times before.
The owner came over with a bottle of wine without having to be asked. "Finally off to meet your parents, then?"
"Better now than never. The captain gave me some time off after I was done with my punishment. The slowest two weeks of my life. I hate double shifts," Carrido said.
"That's what you get for getting in the lieutenant's way."
Carrido snorted and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Not anymore. Haven't you heard? Gabriel got sacked for incompetence."
"What? What did he do?"
"He couldn't stop the rebels from stealing a shipment of wheat," Carrido said, taking a gulp of his wine. "The commander got really angry. Gabriel lost his position and rank, everything."
The owner frowned. "That sounds like an overraction to me."
"It is," Carrido admitted. He pursed his lips in thought before he continued, "To be honest, I think there's something else behind it, and I'm not the only one. Some of the men were really angry to see him treated like that. I never liked him very much, but I think the commander was unfair to him."
"Didn't anyone try to object?" the owner asked.
"Some were stupid enough to try," Carrido replied. "In any case, I hear we're getting a new officer soon. I hope he won't cause me as much trouble as Gabriel."
"You wouldn't get into trouble if you watched what you say," the owner pointed out with a chuckle.
Placid was inclined to agree with the owner. He didn't like it how casually this soldier was talking about the matters of the army with civilians. No matter what had happened, it wasn't his business to tell anyone about it. Even worse, he was openly criticising his commander's decisions.
"I know. I know. You've told me that a hundred times," Carrido said with a hint of irritation in his voice.
"And I'll keep repeating it until you get it. I've known your parents for a long time, and I don't want them to be constantly worried about you. But I doubt anyone will ever get through to you," the owner said. He took one look at the nonchalant expression on Carrido's face and sighed in defeat. Next, he pointed at the bag that the soldier was carrying. "Is that the usual?"
"Yes, the captain asked me to deliver it since I'm going this way," Carrido said.
Placid was so busy listening to the discussion that he almost missed how one of the three men reached inside his shirt and let his hand remain there. He felt alarmed at once but tried to act like he hadn't noticed anything.
"If I may ask, what's in the bag?" he interrupted. It seemed like everyone else in the room knew that.
"Just mail. I'm taking some army letters to San Acosto," Carrido explained. Much to Placid's relief, he moved the bag so that it was resting on his lap. As he had hoped, the soldier looked a little more alert now that he had asked about it.
Placid only nodded. There was another base in San Acosto, but it was such a small town that there weren't many high-ranking officers. He supposed the commander in San Tasco had to be at least partly responsible for running things in San Acosto as well.
He glanced at the three men again. Two of them were still staring at the table, but the third one, the one reaching for something in his clothes, lifted his head at just the right moment and locked eyes with him.
A shiver went down Placid's back at the cold ruthlessness on the man's face. Without even thinking, he fumbled at his side out of instinct, but his hand met nothing. He could have kicked himself when he remembered that he had left his bow in the stable with his saddle. It was an unacceptable mistake even for a soldier, and he was supposed to be an officer!
Was he the only one who had noticed that something was wrong? Carrido and the owner were just chatting about some woman Carrido was going to propose to, and the stranger in the corner hadn't stirred. He wondered if he should have alerted them. Maybe everything could be avoided then.
Just as he was about to do so, the third man jumped to his feet and pulled a pistol from under his shirt. Placid got half out of his seat, but the man immediately pointed the gun at him.
"Don't move!" he snapped. His companions got up, too, but they didn't take out any firearms, so Placid hoped they had none. One of them had a knife at his belt, but he wasn't reaching for it yet.
"What's this?" the owner asked in surprise. "Put that away at once! I won't have anything like this at my -"
"Shut up! This has nothing to do with you!" the gunman yelled. He nodded towards the bag that Carrido was holding. "Give that to me."
"What?" Carrido asked. "It's just a bunch of personal letters. There's nothing valuable in here."
"Yeah, right. There have to be orders from the commander to the captain in San Acosto. Hand them over now!" the man demanded.
"But -"
"Now! Or I'll shoot this bastard here," the man said and waved his pistol at Placid.
Carrido turned to look at him for a moment, and Placid wondered what he would do. So far this man hadn't shown any signs of competence, but maybe he'd surprise him yet. As far as he was concerned, a few personal letters weren't worth risking any lives over, but if these bandits were right and there was classified information, they would have to try something. These men would no doubt sell such documents to the rebels if they got their hands on them.
"Fine. I'll show you how serious I am, and maybe you will care more about the owner of this hellhole," the man said. Placid tensed and prepared to leap aside, even though he knew he'd never dodge the ball at this distance.
"Alright, here!" Carrido yelped at once and threw the bag at the men. One of the two who weren't holding any weapons caught it. He opened it to see what was inside, and Placid caught a glimpse of white paper.
"Just letters," the bandit told his companions.
"That's what we came for," the man standing by his side said.
"I know, but I was hoping there'd be some money, too," his friend remarked.
"Shut up," the leader snapped. He gestured at the man who had caught the bag. "Marco, go outside and get the horses. We'll be there as soon as we're done here."
Placid was wondering what else they could be after, but he got his answer when the man pointed his pistol at Carrido. He took a few steps to his left to get a better angle and so that the owner wasn't standing between them.
"What are you going to do? You already got what you wanted," Placid said.
"He's a soldier. I hate them. Traitorous cowards every one of them. I'll be doing the world a favour by getting rid of one," the man said.
"You can't be serious! He hasn't done anything to you!" the owner protested.
"Just take the letters and leave when you still can," Placid suggested. Now he wished more than ever that he hadn't been stupid enough to forget his bow. He hadn't even properly started at his new post, and he was already proving unable to protect one of his subordinates. What a pathetic lieutenant he was turning out to be.
"Not before I blow his head off," the leader said.
"Now, wait a little," Carrido stammered and got up from his seat. "You can't just kill me. The army will hunt you down if you do that."
The man snorted. "Like they care about one soldier. And even if they do, I'll be long gone with the money I'll get for those letters," he said.
"But I already told you those letters -" Carrido tried to argue, but his words died in his throat when he man lifted his pistol higher and took better aim.
Placid knew there was no time to wait. He bounced at the man holding the pistol, knowing that if they just stood there, he would fire anyway. There was a gunshot that made his ears ring, shouts and sudden clatter as something crashed against one of the tables, but Placid couldn't make out which sound came first. He and the man fell on the floor, and he struggled to keep his opponent's hands down. Sadly, he wasn't very good at fighting like this, and before he could even begin to make sense of the situation, the bandit drove his knee to Placid's stomach and knocked the air out of his lungs. Next thing he knew, he was struck in the face with the handle of the pistol and released his hold of the bandit in pained stupor.
Placid groaned as he was shoved to the side and tried to get on his feet as fast as he could, but he received another kick that sent him back to the floor. As he rolled over on his back, he saw that the bandit with the pistol was standing over him while his friend had his knife pressed at the tavern owner's throat. That explained why Carrido hadn't made a move and was only staring at the scene with confused eyes.
"You shouldn't have done that," the leader of the bandits growled.
Placid didn't reply. He brought his hand up to his right cheek and winced at the sharp pain. His eyesight was getting blurry, so he supposed his eye was starting to swell shut.
"Let's get out of here," the bandit with the knife suggested.
"No. I'm killing both him and that damn soldier!" the leader snarled and reached inside his shirt to get some gunpowder and more balls for his pistol. As he did so, he took a few steps backwards to place the bag with the gunpowder on the nearest table.
It was then that Placid realised what they had all forgotten about. The lone traveller was still leaning back on his seat with his hat on his face. He hadn't made a move when the commotion had started, but Placid was certain he had to be awake. Nobody could sleep through a pistol being fired that close to them.
And yet the man hadn't even stirred. Just when Placid was starting to think that he had to be dead, his foot shot out and struck the man with the pistol behind his knees. The man let out an agonized howl and stumbled, dropping the pistol. Before he could get his balance back, the traveller drew a pistol of his own from under his vest and pointed it at him.
"Drop the knife," he said to the remaining bandit.
"Boss, what should I do?" the man asked, glancing at the leader.
"You're bluffing," the leader said to the traveller as he straightened his form.
"Nobody would blame me if I shot you right here, and I don't care one bit about your miserable life," the traveller replied. A wide smile suddenly cracked his face. "But you're free to try your luck."
Placid was still sitting on the floor, holding his breath and wondering what would happen. The look on the stranger's face was captivating, and he was certain that he'd shoot if he had to. The leader of the bandits realised this as well and motioned for his companion to put the knife away and leave the owner of the tavern alone.
"That didn't go exactly like you had planned, did it?" the traveller asked in a mocking tone, casually waving the pistol in his hand.
"I'll get you for this! Just watch, I will -" the leader started, but he was interrupted by laughter from the traveller.
"What makes you think you'll ever have a chance to do anything?" the man asked.
"I think that's enough," Placid announced and got up from the floor. He frowned at the way the traveller was making light of the situation. They weren't in the clear yet. The third bandit was outside, and they still had to detain these two.
"Is there any rope?" Carrido asked the owner who had sat down by the table.
The owner's hand was shaking as he pointed towards the backroom.
"There's… there's some in there," he stammered.
Carrido was on his way before Placid had the time to order him to do it. If nothing else, he at least knew when to act. While the soldier was busy looking for the rope, Placid had some time to take a better look at the situation.
The owner of the tavern had such a grey face that Placid thought he might throw up any moment. He supposed it wasn't a surprise – it would shock anyone to have a knife pressed at their throat at their own home. Still, he was currently the least of his worries. The bandit who had been holding the knife looked almost as shaken as the owner. It was like having to let go of his only weapon had drained all strength out of him. He was glancing at the leader with a miserable and hopeless frown.
The leader was the complete opposite; his face was marred by an arrogant sneer that made Placid truly dislike the man.
However, it was the strange traveller with the pistol who caught his interest. The man was still leaning back on his seat and was holding the gun in an almost casual way. Amusement was sparkling in his dark eyes, and a somewhat crooked smile made him look cheeky. His brown hair was a mess and his clothes dirty from travelling. He looked as unprofessional as one could get, and yet Placid got the distinct feeling that he knew exactly what he was doing.
Carrido came back with the rope, and Placid assisted him in tying up the bandits. He kept a wary eye on them as they worked, afraid that they might try something in desperation. However, nothing happened. He supposed these men were the kind who lost their bravery when they were taken down.
"There's still one man left. We have to get the letters back," he said.
"There's nothing important there. They're just personal letters," Carrido pointed out.
"I sure hope this isn't the attitude you have towards all of your tasks," Placid said sharply.
"And just who do you think you are to talk to me like that?" Carrido asked.
"I'm your new lieutenant, that's who. And if you don't want me to report this incident to Commander Raymond, I suggest you go outside and see if the bandit is still there."
"What?" Carrido blurted out, eyes wide.
"That's right, and I could provide the legal document to prove it, but there's no time. You'll just have to take my word for it now," Placid continued. He was glaring at the soldier and hoped that he'd listen.
"It sounds like you had better do what he says," the traveller remarked. He slipped his pistol back into his clothes but remained sitting where he was. Carrido turned to look at him in irritation, and for a moment Placid thought he'd snarl something at the man, but then he thought better of it. When he turned back to Placid, his eyes were filled with doubt and apprehension.
"Yes, sir," he said stiffly and hurried outside.
Placid made sure the owner of the tavern wasn't going to have a breakdown and then walked to the traveller. This actually made the man finally stand up. He was a little taller than Placid who suddenly felt somewhat awkward before the other man's amused eyes.
"I thank you for what you did. Without you, we might all be dead," he said.
The stranger shrugged. "It was nothing. All I had to do was to wait for the right moment."
"Still, we're all in your debt," Placid said, though in reality he didn't quite agree with the man's methods. If the bandit hadn't retreated close to his table, he wouldn't have been able to kick him. He should have pulled out his pistol earlier to save them all some trouble. But it was all over, so he supposed it was needless to think about it.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said and offered his hand to the man. "I'm Lieutenant Emilio Placid. I'm on my way to my post in San Tasco."
"Then we have the same way," the traveller said as they shook hands.
"You live in San Tasco?" Placid asked.
The other man shook his head. "No, I'm on my way to work there, too. I'm Lieutenant Renato Serrano," he said.
Placid couldn't help but take a step back in surprise. "What?" he asked.
"Why so startled? You don't look much more like a lieutenant than I do," Serrano remarked.
"It's not that. I just wasn't aware I wasn't the only one being assigned in San Tasco," Placid said. Could it be that there had been a mistake? Why else would there be two new lieutenants assigned to replace just one?
"Neither was I. I hope they aren't planning to set us against each other and kick out the one who loses. I hear the commander has a thing for removing incompetent men from service," Serrano said with a chuckle.
"I don't see anything funny about that," Placid said, but he couldn't help but wonder about it as well. He recalled what Carrido had told the owner about Raymond removing Lieutenant Gabriel from service because of a minor mistake. Just what kind of man was the commander?
The door was opened, and Carrido stepped in. He was carrying the bag with the letters, but there was no sign of the third bandit.
"What happened?" Placid asked.
"I couldn't see him, but this was on the ground. He must have heard what was going on here and fled. One of the horses is missing. Maybe he thought we wouldn't go after him if he didn't take the letters," Carrido said and threw the bag on the table.
"There's no point in pursuing him when he has had such a good start. Besides, it will be enough trouble to take these two to San Tasco," Placid said.
"Are you planning to do it, sir? I'm afraid I'm expected in San Acosto, but -" Carrido started.
Serrano waved him into silence. "We can do it just fine," he said.
"And who are you?" Carrido asked disdainfully.
"The man who just saved your life," Serrano replied.
"Now listen here -!" Carrido started, but Placid was growing tired. He decided to save the poor soldier from any further embarrassment.
"That's Lieutenant Serrano, and we're indeed perfectly capable of doing this alone," he said. He shot Serrano a dirty glare. No matter how unprofessional Carrido had acted like as a soldier, Serrano shouldn't have sunk to his level to play such stupid games. He was supposed to be the man's superior, after all.
Carrido turned to stare at Serrano like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But, sir…" he started, but then he didn't know how to continue.
"I think we've all had enough. Lieutenant Serrano and I will have to get moving if we want to get these men to San Tasco before sunset. You had better go about fulfilling your orders," Placid said. Next, he turned to address the owner. "Are you alright with staying here? The last man might come back."
"I'll be fine. My brother should be here soon," the owner replied.
"Then we'll be going."
They took the bandits outside and got them on their horses. Both men had their hands tied before them, and Placid connected their saddles to his with rope just in case they would try to escape. Serrano didn't seem equally concerned about that, but he made no mention of it.
Serrano went to give the bandits' horses a few pats before mounting his own. "Luckily to you, these guys won't have a need for you where they're going. I'll find someone to look after you," he said to the animals.
They started following the road to the direction of San Tasco. It was barely past noon and still too hot for Placid's liking. He could feel sweat pour down his back and couldn't help but glare at the backs of the bandits riding before him.
"Idiots," Serrano said by his side. "If you're going to steal something, you should first make sure it's worth something."
"I wouldn't give advice to lowlifes like them," Placid pointed out.
"That's not advice. It's common sense," Serrano said with a chuckle. From the corner of his eye, Placid noticed that the other lieutenant kept looking at him with half a smile on his face. He frowned in irritation.
"We need to keep a stern eye on them in case they try to escape," he said, hoping that Serrano would stop looking at him and concentrate on his work.
"Hey, lighten up. They aren't going anywhere," Serrano said, but he did turn his eyes back to the bandits. After a moment, he continued, "Are you always this strict?"
"When there are duties to fulfil, yes. I want to make a good first impression when we arrive in San Tasco," Placid replied.
"So do I. This post is like a dream come true, and I'm not letting anything take it away from me," Serrano said. The humour didn't leave his voice even for a moment, but something about him made Placid believe his words. Besides, surely this man wouldn't have become a lieutenant if he couldn't be serious about his duties.
"I wonder why they need two replacements," he mused.
"Maybe the commander wants to play safe. Remember what the owner said about this Zorro who has delivered countless shameful defeats to the army? Maybe the commander thinks he needs more officers to capture him," Serrano suggested.
"Could be," Placid admitted. If even half of what the owner had said was true, they would probably run into this mysterious bandit in no time. He glanced at the bow that was attached to his saddle. His father had taught him to shoot, and to this very day he didn't like using the weapon against humans. This time he felt there was no choice. If Zorro was anything like the rumours said, he had to be stopped at any price.
"Well, I for one am glad I don't have to go there alone. I don't know what happened to our predecessor, but it could be that the men are still loyal to him and won't be happy to serve under someone else yet," Serrano said.
"I'm sure the commander has the situation under control," Placid said.
"I wish I had your trust in formalities, but even soldiers aren't immune to emotion," Serrano said. He shrugged. "Oh, well. I guess that just means that the two of us have to stick together and show everyone that we're better than any lieutenant they've ever had, huh?"
Placid let out a thoughtful hum and nodded. He couldn't wait to get to San Tasco as soon as possible to see the situation for himself and to hear what was really going on.
Lolita was busy choosing the best apples to buy when she suddenly saw Diego from the corner of her eye. He was standing on the other side of the street, talking to Bernard and some girl Lolita couldn't remember seeing before. They all seemed to be having fun, so she told the merchant that she'd be back later and went to join her friends.
"Hello, Diego," she greeted him when she got closer.
"Oh, Lolita. I didn't know you were in town."
"I'm just doing some shopping for my mother."
"I'm running errands, too," Diego said, but since his hands were empty, Lolita could only assume that he was just trying to make her believe he was doing something productive. Most likely he had just come to town to have some wine and chat with his friends. Usually, she might have made some snippy comment about that, but right now her mood was too bright for that.
"My father told me something that made me very happy this morning," she said.
"Really? What's that? Is he going to buy you a new dress?" Diego asked.
"No, you silly. Nothing like that," Lolita said. For a moment, she felt irritated that Diego would suggest that. Yes, she did love pretty dresses, but surely she had already proven that they weren't everything to her? Surely Diego didn't think she was shallow? Oddly enough, such a little comment from him bothered her a great deal all of a sudden.
"Then what?" Diego asked, blinking in confusion.
"My father said that they're putting together enough money so that Mr. Adans can return here and get his mine back," Lolita said. She watched Diego's face for a reaction, but his usual friendly smile didn't even waver.
"Yes, I already know. It's wonderful that everyone is ready to help him."
"But it's not that that made me especially happy. My father said that this was all your idea," Lolita said. She couldn't help but feel a grin tugging at her lips, and she didn't even know why she was feeling so excited.
"It was just something that I mentioned to my father the other day," Diego said modestly.
"Nonsense, Diego! That was a wonderful idea. I didn't know you could be so…" Lolita started to say, but she realised she had no idea how to finish. Diego cared about the people and the trouble they faced every day. She had never doubted that. He wasn't brave like Zorro and couldn't defend the people with a sword, but he wasn't useless. She hadn't even realised how much he helped just by being there.
"So... what?" Diego asked, but Lolita just shook her head.
"Never mind that. I'm so proud of you. It makes me happy to think that Mr. Adans can come back."
Diego chuckled but didn't say anything. The slight blush on his face was most endearing, and Lolita had to look away when she felt her own face grow red. She was about to say something to Bernard, but it was then that she realised he and the little girl had left.
"Who was that girl with Bernard?" she asked.
"That's Pepita. She moved here with her mother some time ago."
"She and Bernard seem to get along well."
"Bernard always makes friends fast," Diego replied. "By the way, do you need help with your shopping?"
"I thought you were running errands of your own," Lolita pointed out and gave him a teasing poke between the ribs. It made Diego jump aside with a yelp and a protest about how she shouldn't tickle him.
"Actually, I was just looking for Sergeant Gonzales," he admitted.
"I knew it. You shouldn't try to lie to me," Lolita said with a smirk. It was so easy to see through Diego. He couldn't keep a secret even if his life depended on it.
It would have been an understatement to say that Gabriel was irritated. He was stomping through the front yard towards the wine fields with his fists clenched, and the same angry frown had been on his face since morning. Things that wouldn't have normally bothered him, such as the heat of the day, now added to his annoyance and made him feel like everything was going wrong.
It was only three days since he had started his work, and he already hated it. His tasks, if they could be called that, were useless. All he did was make sure all of the workers came on time in the morning and didn't waste a second of the time they were supposed to be picking grapes. Since most of them were frightened of him, all he had to do was walk through the field every now and then. At first it had been amusing to watch the pathetic peasants cower before him, but the novelty was starting to wear off.
Even worse, he knew that these people didn't have any real reason to fear him. Not anymore now that he didn't hold any power. Their terror was only a reminder of what he no longer was. Sooner or later they would realise that, too, and he wasn't looking forward to that. In fact, there were times when he almost was afraid of them. Without his rank, he was just like these people.
He might have been able to at least tolerate it if he could have got some sense of satisfaction from his work, but he wasn't granted even that. He felt like he wasn't doing anything. He missed going on patrol, training with the men, collecting taxes and fighting Zorro. Hell, he was even starting to miss the paperwork. A few weeks ago he would have laughed if someone had suggested it, but he now knew that giving orders to other people wasn't much fun if that was all you had to do. It reminded him of the time he had spent recovering from his injury. He wasn't doing anything useful; everything around him would have functioned just the same without him, and everyone respected him in name only.
Gabriel spotted Basilio coming out of the main house with a wide smile on his face. Seeing someone else so happy only made his irritation worse. Basilio also reminded him of his other task, which was the last thing he wanted to think about.
"Hey, have you seen Rafael today?" he called out to the younger man. If he was supposed to be looking after that idiot, he might just as well put at least some effort into it.
"I think he's still in bed."
"What? It's well past noon! Is he sick?" Gabriel blurted out.
"No, he always sleeps this late."
"Unbelievable," Gabriel muttered. He couldn't imagine even Diego being this lazy. His first thought was to march to that weakling's bedroom and drag him out of bed, but he knew it would have only caused him trouble. He was too angry to deal with Rafael now.
"I think he stayed too long partying in town," Basilio said.
"That much is clear to anyone," Gabriel snarled. He had seen Rafael leave when the sun was setting, but the young man must have come back after he had already retired for the night. He could hardly believe that the man in charge of the entire estate was a failure like that. If the rest of them hadn't known what they were doing, everything would have been in ruins in a week.
"Hey, don't get mad at me. It's not my fault," Basilio said quickly. He stopped when they arrived at the wine fields and shielded his eyes from the sun, like he was looking for something. Apparently he found it because he swiftly excused himself and hurried to talk to one of the workers.
Gabriel felt the urge to kick something, so he decided to walk through the field one more time. Maybe some worker would give him the excuse to yell at them.
As soon as someone spotted him, all happy chatter between the men and women on the field came to a halt. Everyone turned their eyes back to their work, and nobody had the courage to even glance at him. The hands picking the grapes got faster until they were tearing the fruit from the vines almost violently.
"Hey, be more careful, you idiot! Don't damage the vines," Gabriel snapped to the first person who was in his way.
"Yes, of course. Right away, sir," the poor man stuttered.
"And that goes for the rest of you, too," Gabriel said. As he was about to turn away, he caught a glimpse of the hateful glares on the workers' faces. "And what are you all looking at? Get back to work!" he growled. Even as everyone did so, it didn't make him feel at all better. In fact, he felt nothing short of petty. Just a few weeks ago, he had led men to battle and been proud to wear a uniform. Now he was snapping orders to peasants. It was pathetic.
He spotted Pablo in the distance and started walking towards him. Pablo was at least tolerable, so maybe talking to him might improve his mood a notch. As he got closer, he saw the man was leaning his back on a portion of the fence he and Basilio had built.
"Hey, Gabriel. Have you seen Basilio?" he asked when Gabriel got closer.
"He was just there. He had some business on the fields," Gabriel replied.
Pablo rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Typical," he said. "I bet he has already picked a sweetheart among the workers. It looks like it's up to me to build the fence now."
"You could just order him back here," Gabriel pointed out.
"I'm afraid I don't have your aura of power," Pablo said. He turned to look at the fields. "I must say I'm impressed. I've never seen so many people jump in fright at the mere sight of someone. You must have been some lieutenant."
"Yes," Gabriel said stiffly. How he wished he still were. He waited for Pablo to add his disapproval, but he didn't see any of the hate on his face. It was an almost bizarre thing to notice after the way most people treated him nowadays. "Doesn't it bother you?" he asked.
"What?" Pablo asked.
"That everyone fears me. You must realise they have a reason for that," Gabriel said.
Pablo shook his head. "Not at all. I know you have to be harsh to maintain order in the colonies. My cousin used to serve here as a sergeant before he lost his leg in a peasants' uprising and had to go back home. As long as the army remains loyal to the king and is fair, I don't care how strict the officers have to be."
"You might want to keep that opinion to yourself. The people here sympathise with local rebels," Gabriel said. And if Pablo spoke too freely, the others would start telling him stories of how Gabriel had misused his power for his personal gain. Raymond was the only one with any proof of that, but if enough people said the same thing, Pablo might believe them.
"I know. I've heard about this Zorro," Pablo said with a frown.
"That man is nothing but a criminal! I can't wait for the day when I'll see him get what he deserves."
"Good thing we probably don't have to worry. I see no reason for Zorro to ever come to this estate," Pablo said. He straightened his form and turned to look at the unfinished fence with a displeased expression. "I'm much more concerned about how I'm getting this done."
"Why is it so important to build that fence anyway?" Gabriel asked.
"Because most of our fields are close to roads. People have this idea that if there's no fence, they can just come and get a handful of grapes as they're travelling," Pablo replied. He went to lift the other end of one of the planks on the ground. "If you have nothing else to do, could you fill in for Basilio for a while?"
"Sure," Gabriel said and went to help. It wasn't fun work to do on such a hot day, but at least it would keep him busy for some time.
Placid wasn't entirely sure what to think of his first impression of Commander Raymond. Upon entering his office with Serrano and seeing him greet them with half a smile had made him think that Raymond was a cold and calculating man. He didn't know why he couldn't shake that idea. Raymond was polite, even friendly. He had congratulated them for capturing the bandits and stopping them from stealing the letters. And yet there was that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach every time those blue eyes turned to look at him.
"In any case, we have been expecting you. It hasn't been easy to run things here the past few weeks. Lieutenant Gabriel's unfortunate departure left us with a large gap in our midst," the commander said.
"I'm sure we'll both do our best to replace him," Placid said.
Raymond nodded. "I expect nothing less." He kept a small pause. "I'm sure you must have heard rumours about what happened to Gabriel. You probably agree that it works in everyone's favour if I tell you what really took place."
Placid and Serrano both nodded. Placid thought back to what he had heard at the tavern. The basics of Carrido's story were probably true, but he didn't want to trust the soldier blindly. The situation couldn't be as unfair as he made it seem.
"First I must tell you that there had been quite a lot of trouble with Lieutenant Gabriel for a long time. He was rash and impatient and acted without thinking. Operations led by him were often disastrous. The incident when the rebels stole a large shipment of wheat was simply one too many in a long line of embarrassing defeats. Then there was the fact that he received a permanent injury that prevented him from properly fulfilling his duties. Under those circumstances, I saw no other choice but to remove him from service," Raymond explained. He clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head so that he looked somewhat amused.
"If you would have acted otherwise, this your chance to voice your disagreement. Otherwise I assume we're done with this topic," he continued.
"I have no reason to doubt your decision, sir," Placid said at once.
"Same here, sir," Serrano said.
"Good. Captain Jekyll will soon be here to take you for a walk around the barracks and introduce you to the men. There are just a few things I want to make clear first," Raymond said. He waited a moment to see if either lieutenant would comment, but when neither did, he continued, "At first you might be surprised by the army's tactics in this area and think that we're being overly harsh to the people. That's understandable, but I want you to know that nobody here enjoys it. San Tasco might look like quaint little town, but the area is restless and there are many rebel factions hiding in the surrounding countryside. I'm sad to say that many of the citizens are sympathetic towards them, which is why we have to remind them of Spain's power every day."
That wasn't at all how Placid had heard it from the people he had talked to. They had made it seem like the army was tyrannising them and that the rebels were only trying to help them. Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to take the words of some peasants over those of his commander, but he still found it bothersome how there could be two such different accounts of the same thing.
"The most notorious of these rebels is the masked bandit known as Zorro. He has caused countless trouble to us in the past. Zorro is very clever and always chooses to strike at such a moment that it looks like he's fighting for justice. He has made the army look bad on numerous occasions, but I trust you won't fall for his tricks. No matter what people say, you shouldn't forget that Zorro is a dangerous criminal and an enemy of the king," Raymond finished his lecture.
"Of course, sir," Serrano said.
"Good. I fear even some of the soldiers are starting to fall for Zorro's lies. It's the responsibility of every officer to make sure there is order among the men," Raymond said.
As Captain Jekyll came to take them away, Placid couldn't help but frown at the situation. He had been expecting a quiet rural town when he had arrived in San Taco, but Raymond's words made it look like the area was on the verge of a rebellion. He felt a little nervous about starting his career as a lieutenant in such a complicated situation, but at the same time it made him more determined than ever to prove his worth. He'd do his best to help ensure that San Tasco wouldn't succumb to chaos.