Separation

Ignacio sat in the Tavern, and relished the fact that no one sat near him. It was like the early days of his reign, when the balance of power was yet to be disturbed by Zorro, when he still felt like he would win. It hadn't lasted very long, he remembered. He liked the feel of power flowing through his veins. It had been a long time since he had felt that surge of adrenalin, and he forgotten how much he had liked it. Pilar responded to his lunch order with her characteristic nervousness, and it seemed that the world was back under his thumb. He smiled, as he sipped his wine, savouring its flavour as he thought over the day's achievements.

The governor could not touch him. He had reacted for the sake of stable government, and no government official could fault his actions, otherwise it would question their own authority. A nagging doubt at the back of his head disturbed him, a query about how just he really had been. His young conscience was fussing, he supposed. It would be quelled in time.

How was he going to rule the pueblo and defend his wife without showing his authority in the pueblo? He needed to take a stand against crime in the town. If people stopped respecting him, he would not be able to do his job. The work of a struggling farmer had lost its promise, with the feeling of pure power. Gushing Stream was his wife. She would and could learn to tolerate what she must, eventually. She too would respect his power.

He wandered back to the office and fidgeted with files. The sun was going down steadily when he wondered where Gushing Stream was, and when she would be back. He glanced up, hearing a knock on the wooden door frame, and Diego stood in the doorway, glaring at him silently.

"Is my wife with you?"

"Should she be?"

Ignacio stood up, and stared at the tall man. Something in his manner disturbed him, but then again he was never truly comfortable in his presence.

"Where is she?" Ignacio asked.

"She is not coming home, Ignacio. You have gone too far," Diego said softly.

Ignacio stood up straighter. "What did you say?"

"She heard the news about the flogging, Ignacio. Why would you think she wouldn't? She is leaving you," Diego murmured.

"She can't leave me…" Ignacio said disbelieving Diego. "She's pregnant with my child."

"Nevertheless, she is leaving you."

"She is ill. Remember what she was like last time? Stop her, Diego. Tell her to come home," Ignacio said, his mind racing. He took a deep breath, to centre himself. His heart had sunk into his boots.

"She is welcome in my home until she finds her feet," Diego said sternly. "She is welcome to have the baby at my house and stay for as long as she likes. She is a great help to Victoria."

"No, Diego. She is my wife," Ignacio whispered.

"I'm sorry, but Gushing Stream is making herself sick over this whole mess, Ignacio. I don't blame her. What are you doing?"

"I have every right to defend my position as Alcalde," Ignacio said.

"Not by flogging a man half to death, Ignacio." Diego turned and left him to himself.

Ignacio was stunned, and he remained standing for a few moments, lost in thought. He should have thought of his wife, especially taking into account her fears. He should have remembered how the peons gossiped and how fast word got around the pueblo. It was his fault entirely. He had promised to do better. He had waited for the coast to be clear and deliberately planned his revenge, disregarding everything they had talked about. He had lost her, probably forever this time.

He wished Diego was still in the room, so that he could at least try to punch him. He wished he had drawn his sword, and at least threatened him with it, even though the man would probably disarm him immediately. He wondered why he had not reacted to the man's words at the time. The message had chilled him and sent him into a spin. He should have expected a spirited reaction from his lady. He had pushed the issue too far.

Would he lose her and his child? If Diego protected her in his hacienda at least she would be well taken care of, he tried to see the benefits of such a move. He could only see his own hurt and growing feelings of betrayal. She had left him immediately on hearing the news of his actions. He had not even had the change to explain himself. He had not even given his side of the story.

He loved her, he reminded himself. She was pregnant with his child. Surely he could at least be a gentleman and try to understand her wishes. She wanted to feel safe and protected from violent deeds, and he kept committing violent deeds. Of course she would feel threatened to be in the same space as him. He needed to resign while he still had a chance to change – to win her love back with hard work and dedication to a peaceful goal.

He drew out a piece of paper and began to draft some letters.

One letter was for Armand, one was for the governor himself. Another one would wait for a calmer moment and that one was for his wife.

Armand's letter was easy. It was a thank you letter, for the provision of the parcel of land. He fingered the deed that still lay on his desk, and knew he had to be serious about his resignation. Why had he totally returned to his old ways? Gushing Stream had refused to marry him initially because she had thought she would distract him away from reforming his pueblo. She had been right, completely right. She had only married him because she loved him so much that she talked herself around the issue. She had believed that she needed him and his love, above anything else. He had been distracted and influenced by the need to protect her from the injustices around them. He could no longer work in the pueblo, let alone run it.

The second letter was his resignation letter to the governor. He tentatively recommended Diego de la Vega, and as he did so, he wondered if it was from a sense of perverted vengeance, or from a genuine belief that he was capable of being a superb leader of the people. A bit of both, he realised after a moment's thought.

The third letter was a letter that needed a lot of thought. She would take a bit of time to consider what her next move would be. She was heavily pregnant and she knew her limitations. She knew her own mind, and that was the problem. She would respond only to pure logic and reason, and any attempt at sentiment would cause her to screw up the letter without considering the rest of the contents. He hesitated. The first line had to be perfect.

Sergeant Mendoza entered the room, knocking before entering.

"Alcalde, are you alright?"

"What is it, Sergeant?"

"It is bad to write without a light, Alcalde. Here, let me light the lamp," Mendoza said, lighting up the lamp in the corner. The room lost its shadows, and Ignacio realised he was peering down at a piece of paper he could hardly see, let alone write on.

"Can you get a lancer? I need to send some letters to Monterey," Ignacio said, looking up at the sergeant.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, sergeant. It appears I have lost the war," he whispered half to himself. "I'm resigning from my post, Mendoza."

The sergeant seemed startled, and was speechless. He nodded, and left the room hurriedly.