Part two
The garrison's gate opens, before the church's bell rings at the noon. The squad of soldiers walks slowly, their musket barrels holding back the crowded, shouting people. Between them Zorro walks surely, seemingly indifferent to the shouts, his hands tied behind his back, and weapons pointed at him. For him, the time for anger, opposition or despair had passed. He left them behind, in the cell. Now he has to play his role one more time, before everything ends.
From the gallows' height Ignacio de Soto looks at the approaching people. At this moment he feels only pure satisfaction. It was worth it to make an effort, to plan, to collect information, just for this one day. And when the unfortunate Gilberto Risendo gave him the last clue, he could attack accurately and surely. Risendo was buried, but for de Soto came the time of his final effort. His enemy, Zorro, Diego de la Vega, is walking right now for his inevitable death.
In front of the gallows' stairs señorita Victoria Escalante crosses in front of the soldiers. The woman doesn't allow them to take her away, she wants to go to the convict. Only that takes Zorro from his listlessness.
"Ignacio!" he calls audibly. "If you could be so kind and let her come here!"
They cross gazes for a moment, the alcalde and the outlaw, and finally de Soto gives in. Victoria runs into the middle of the escort and embraces Zorro. Her face is pale and tired after a sleepless night, her eyes are puffy and red from crying, but for him she has never looked so beautiful, and her kiss has more passion, than ever. When she takes her lips from his, Zorro has a feeling that he is losing something very important.
"Don't look at it, querida," he says quietly. "Remember, don't look."
Victoria nods, unable to spit out even a word. Zorro passes her and reaches the gallows' stairs. Whitened from sun, dried planks squeak under his shoes and he thinks he knows, what he has just lost. Every step takes him away from Victoria, every step takes him closer to her gray rival. At the end de Soto, padre Benitez and a visibly frightened Mendoza are waiting for him. Victoria stands with don Alejandro by the stairs. The caballero embraces her, Felipe grabs her hand, as if both of them want to give her even the slightest support. All around, people stop shouting and protesting, they stand still, looking at the last act of this drama.
There are no official speeches or announcements of the death sentence. Everyone knows, who is going to die, for what reason and on whose command. Padre Benitez still whispers something to himself, and de Soto smiles happily.
"Hello, Diego," he says. "What a beautiful day we have."
"Hello, Ignacio," replies Zorro. "Beautiful day for a journey."
"For execution also. Sergeant, do your duty!"
The hands of sergeant Mendoza tremble visibly, when he takes the halter. He is frightened by this forced task and the responsibility of it.
"I... I don't..." he stammers.
"Courage, sergeant," Zorro smiles to him to lift his spirits. "Courage. Do, what you should."
There is no sound of fear or doubt in Zorro's voice and it seems to calm Mendoza down. He puts the rope on his neck and starts manipulating and checking something at the knot.
De Soto catches these exertions by the corner of an eye and winces. Time passes, soon it will be noon. His luggage lays in the stagecoach, the carriage is ready for journey, and only the execution of the famous Zorro stops the driver and other passengers from leaving at once.
"Hurry, sergeant," de Soto says sharply. Mendoza starts to shiver again.
"Calm down, sergeant, just calm down," interrupts Zorro. "Leave him, Ignacio, let him finish. It is my neck, and I'm not in a hurry."
The alcalde doesn't want another malicious exchange with his opponent. He turns back to look at the crowd once more. He has to make sure he has witnesses of his triumph, to see their fear and despair, because Zorro doesn't lose his good humor even with a rope on his neck.
"Any last memorable words, Diego?" he throws his question in the air, meant to be rhetorical, and turns around, surprised, when he hears short, unhappy laughter, accompanied by a groan of astonishment.
"What do you want, Ignacio? A speech?" asks Zorro mockingly.
"No, rather remorse. Or begging."
"You won't hear that from me," Zorro answers him with suddenly sharp voice. "Remember," he says aloud and assured. "Remember. Not this day and what will come, but all this, what was before."
De Soto looks over his shoulder and sees that the people rise their heads, straighten proudly, many of them clench their fists angrily. Zorro looks at him with a challenge and the alcalde understands, that that outlaw wants to change his own death into a victory.
Zorro stands unhesitatingly, smiling and calm despite the rope around his neck. He knows that de Soto has just failed. They both will be gone soon, he and the alcalde, each of them to his own fate, but the people will remember the laughter and this last of Zorro's challenges, not his death or de Soto's triumph. He is sure that this last role was played well up to the end. He achieved what he wanted. Now he feels only sadness, that it all ended in this way, and peace, that he has done everything he could. He reconciled with the fact, that the end of this history wasn't his. He sees there, down, his father, Victoria and Felipe. The rest of the people turn into multicolored mass. He doesn't see the gray lady, though he knows she's there. Or maybe he doesn't see her, because she stands right next to him, on the very same planks.
De Soto draws a handkerchief. He usually uses it as a sign to release the trapdoor. At this sight sergeant Mendoza takes some smelly, black hood. De Soto nods and lets him put it on the convict's head. Let Diego de la Vega die in this stinking darkness, and the alcalde won't be looking at his last, mocking smile.
Despite all his determination to stay calm up to the end, Zorro suddenly keeps his breath, when Mendoza puts the hood on his face.
And when the emptiness opens under his feet and he stars falling into the darkness and nothingness, Diego de la Vega, Zorro, feels this last, ninth kiss. It's sweet and tastes like metal at the same time.
To be continued…