Antoine grunted as he covered his eyes to protect them from the light. He had rarely passed out in his life, and this one time certainly felt like the last one at his graduation from the Academia, when he had collapsed from drinking too much alcohol. The horrible, bitter taste in the mouth, the dry lips, the upset stomach, the headache... all there in a symphony of horrible feelings to make one's life most miserable. Instinctively, his hand searched for the pocket watch at his belt, but he stopped the gesture as he suddenly remembered what had happened, and where he was.
"Mateo! What the hell did you do to me!" he rasped, turning his head slightly to have a look at the rider of the carriage.
"Moi?" Mateo said, not even turning around to look.
"Being stabbed by a sword does not in any way make someone feel like they drank all the wine of California!"
Mateo erupted in laughter at his angry comment. Antoine sighed, rubbing his temple to ease the pain of the headache. He noticed Bernardo sitting at his feet, watching over him, sprawled against the backside of the carriage. His friend had the most insulting grin of all, and he winked at him.
"Oh, shush, Bernardo, if you say a word you're dead!"
His mute friend took on a hurt expression for a second, and then the grin was back on his face.
"Hey, don't blame the poor guy. I'm the one who made you sleep like a baby for two full days," Mateo declared. "You should be thankful we took care of you. Your deaf and dumb friend there is quite the nurse too. Drink some water and the headache will go away in no time."
"Quoi? You're a doctor now?" Antoine asked sarcastically.
"No, but Don Alejandro went ahead to fetch one in Los Angeles. We'll be entering the pueblo in, oh, ten, fifteen minutes?"
Mateo's words sank in, a little late.
"Two... days?" Antoine gasped.
"Sí. Trust me, you'll be thankful for it. Your wound is already healing fast, and I'm sure you won't be drowsy anymore, like you've seemingly been for the past few weeks."
Antoine dubiously looked at his perfectly bandaged shoulder, which, surprisingly enough, felt only numb. No pain. And Mateo was right, the headache was already receding.
"Ha... What kind of business were you doing again in Monterey?"
"Funny you're just asking now," the young man smiled. "My mother sent me to pick up some medicinal plants and tinctures fresh off the same ship you came on. I already traded some of those with the frailes on the way back... and been forced by the circumstances to use some of my stock already."
Right. Why had Antoine not asked Mateo before now? He must have been brooding too much to care. The soldier also realized with amazement that his sleep had been thankfully dreamless. Not one haunting thought about his father had disturbed his mind.
"Dieu du ciel... two days of sleep. I can't believe it," Antoine finally muttered as he stared at the cloudless sky, where tints of orange and yellow were hinting at the end of the day already.
Bernardo pointed at the soldier and pinched his nose, emphatically waving the air in front of him with disgust.
"Bernardo... shut up."
Imelda was looking at her reflection in the tall mirror, her hands slowly brushing the delicate embroidery of her sleeves as a servant finished tying the back of her most exquisite dress. Tonight, she was eating with Capitán Monastario, and she knew that he was attentive to such details as a woman's clothing. The proud man had been totally thrown off by their initial meeting, and the story of the curse. When the Comandante was angry, he was unable to think straight, a flaw so easy to use to her advantage... and now that Imelda had him unable to definitely size her up, he would be second-guessing her every word, trying to fathom her plan, and he would most certainly miss the point of tonight's dinner.
Imelda's eyes smiled at the idea. The dashing Monastario somehow reminded her of Jacques, though from what she knew about the Comandante, he did not possess the same intellectual refinement nor attention for precision. Still, his impatience was attractive in a way, a sure sign of the fire of youth and life burning in his heart.
The woman checked one last time her dress, hair, and make-up. She then picked from her jewelry box a small piece of paper folded in a triangular shape. The object and its powdery content were carefully hidden inside the collar of her dress. Everything was ready.
The ship Santa Luisa was about ready to depart. Monterey's dock was busy with passengers getting ready to board, making their farewells to loved ones as the captain yelled the last call. Among the people waiting in line stood a bearded man slightly taller than most, his creased face carved like a stone where no emotion had shown for the past five months. His dark brown hair was now interspersed with many white ones, which made him look so much older than before.
He obviously had no farewell to bid.
"Gaspar, it's time to go," Imelda said, turning to Jacques's faithful servant. The latter simply nodded, his eyes filling with water as he took in his arms his beloved Nina one last time.
"Keep up your end of the bargain, and nothing shall happen to her," she added, wishing this sentimental scene would end already. Nina was just a plain little girl, born weak and constantly sick. Imelda had no idea how someone could love her, as even her native tribe had rejected her when she was born.
"Adieu, witch," Gaspar whispered, his eyes throwing daggers at Imelda. She smiled at his sudden emotion, something so uncharacteristic of him. However, his attack reminded her that she too, was feeling the pain of someone's departure from California.
The old man picked the doctor's briefcase and went by his master's side in the waiting line, without so much as a look back.
"Tía, where is Papá going?"
"He's going to a faraway land, honey. You're staying with me now," Imelda distractedly answered, her eyes fixed on Jacques for any sign from him.
The man was about ready to climb, when his head suddenly tilted on the side. Imelda's heart leaped, expecting some sort of acknowledgment of her presence.
"Antoine! Viens ici, tout de suite!" he said loudly.
A few seconds later, his young son came running to him, dodging the people in the crowd, and they both boarded the Santa Luisa.
Imelda did not move until the ship disappeared at the horizon. Jacques had not even looked at her once. If he had, she would not have loved him so much.
The air was thankfully getting cooler as the sun lowered in the sky. A fresh breeze, sign that it was not quite summertime yet, was blowing over the pueblo, blessing its people with renewed energy for the end of the day. Capitán Monastario sat outside the tavern at a large wooden table, frowning as he waited for his unusual guest. Señora Escudero wanted to have dinner with him, probably to discuss her plans furthermore. She must think him a fool. How would anyone believe such an absurd story?
This curse must be a trick, it could not be anything else. However, how did the señora come into possession of the diamond earring in the first place? Was there really a treasure? Even more interesting, what was her link to Corporal Garat? How did she know about him coming to Los Angeles? And why tell the capitán of the cuartel all of this?
Questions that demanded answers, of course. All in due time.
"Comandante, what a pleasure to see you again," Señora Escudero greeted him with a nod and a charming smile.
Monastario politely stood up and kissed her hand. He noticed the delicate lace gloves she was wearing, and as his eyes glided over her whole attire, he could not help but be impressed. Here stood a proud, dignified Doña, magnificient in all aspects of her being. One was tempted to say... perfect.
"Señora, you look absolutely stunning tonight," he smiled in all honesty, despite his suspicious feelings towards her.
"Thank you, dear Comandante."
Monastario could have sworn her cheeks turned rosy at his compliment. Señora Escudero did not strike him as a woman who could blush like a young girl. Was she faking that too?
"I might say you also look dashing in your ceremonial uniform," she added as she sat down.
"I hope you do not mind having dinner outside. I thought it would be more pleasing to the eye to have a look at the beautiful sunset," the Capitán explained, trying to hide the fact that beautiful scenery and poetry were not his forte. "I ordered the best wine of the tavern and some—"
A noisy commotion interrupted their conversation. Monastario heard some screams, but he could not make up what the peónes were saying. What could possibly be happening this late during the day?
"If you would excuse me, Señora..."
Annoyed, the Comandante pulled his sword out, and jumped over the low fence to investigate the cause of the ruckus. It seemed he would not have to go very far, as it was headed straight for him.
A small group of people seemed to be cheering at something, opening the way for whoever was coming on the street. Monastario squinted his eyes to try to make out who...
"Zorro!" he exclaimed loudly, anger instantaneously overwhelming his whole being.
"Mi Capitán! How are you on this lovely night?" the masked man asked with his maddening smile. The Comandante was boiling, and refused to answer the useless question. Nothing could be 'lovely' with Zorro within his eyesight.
In one sweeping gesture, the outlaw's horse stopped galloping and veered right in front of Monastario, so that its rider could dump whatever he had been pulling throughout the pueblo. Four dirty men, hands tied in their backs, clumsily fell face flat at his feet.
"Lancers! Guards! Zorro is in town!"
"I doubt the fellows will be here in time to catch me, Comandante. I was just passing by to make a delivery. Those are the bandits who have been attacking the farms. I trust you will make some minimal effort to put them in jail, I did do all the hard work," he chuckled, visibly happy with getting another public shot at taunting the Capitán.
"Guaaards!" Monastario screamed, unable to contain his anger anymore. He wished Zorro would get off his horse and fight with him instead of having this maddening smile from up there, dropping insults on him like rotten tomatoes.
The masked rider darted a look to his left, and noticed a few blocks away the incoming soldiers running toward him, a fact which did not seem to bother him at all.
"Well, Capitán, it looks like I will have to take my leave from you and your rather charming company," Zorro said, tipping his hat to salute Señora Escudero, who was watching the scene from the terrace.
"Not so fast, Señor!" someone yelled.
Both Monastario and Zorro turned around in surprise at the commanding voice. A young bare-chested man, his right shoulder bandaged, was coming off a carriage which had just turned around the corner, pointing a sword at the outlaw. His half-nudity was almost shocking, but Monastario quickly forgot that fact when he realized this man was a soldier from looking at his dark blue pants and familiar boots. Surprisingly, his expression and body language commanded attention despite his improper, dirty look, and rather skinny frame.
An uneasy silence settled over the scene. The Comandante could not recall seeing Zorro speechless at any of his soldiers' orders. He then noticed the rather distressed look of both the rider of the carriage and its passenger... Bernardo? What could Don Diego's servant be doing there?
Monastario took a deep breath and made a mental note. This was once more one of those rather odd occurrences where Zorro would be here, but not Diego.
"Get off your horse, masked man. You are surrounded," the young soldier ordered in a loud, steady voice.
"That I am, by a cheering crowd it seems," Zorro smiled, his countenance back. The running soldiers were still a short distance away and would be there within seconds.
The young man allowed a smile to lit his face, but his eyes were not smiling.
"Sharp tongue, Señor Negruzco. Is that all you got?"
Monastario allowed himself to feel elated. This time, they had their chance to catch Zorro, thanks to this young soldier blocking his path.
"Zorro! Surrender now!" Monastario ordered.
"Capitán!" the rider implored. "You have already four bandits at your feet! Isn't that enough? Don't be so greedy!" Zorro laughed heartily.
"Don't insult the Comandante, bandido! Act like a man and fight instead of laughing from up there," the soldier said, a flare of genuine anger intensifying his aura. As he took a step toward Zorro to attack, the impressive black horse suddenly stood up on its back legs with an angry neigh, repelling the sudden threat with its menacing hooves.
"Tornado won't let me, unfortunately. He's such a pig-head sometimes," the outlaw said. "Besides, I only fight when the odds are fair, and a dozen lancers, an insulted Capitán, and a wounded soldier just doesn't strike me as 'fair' for you all," Zorro chuckled.
At the last moment, as the lancers and soldiers were taking their aim, Zorro suddenly spurred his mount and saluted the whole crowd, and he took off at an incredible speed, running boldly past the armed soldier, and disappearing in the closest alley.
Monastario was infuriated once more. Zorro had such an arrogance it was impossible to endure.
"After him, bunch of idiot slowpokes! And pick up those idiotas here!" he ordered his soldiers, kicking dust over the four tied men a his feet.
"Comandante," a voice whispered in his ear. Señora Escudero had walked up to him during the confrontation, and she squeezed his left arm. "You have to admit that one cannot be so daring and commanding without a proper background, and the quick, witty replies betray some education."
"I already have my doubts on the identity of this Zorro, Señora" Monastario grunted back.
"Zorro? But... I was referring to your new Corporal over there," she said, pointing her delicate fan at the young soldier who was being held in check by another young man and Bernardo. "Why don't we go greet him and welcome him to Los Angeles?"
Monastario could have sworn there was laughter in her perfectly pitched whisper.
This chapter is a little shorter than the ones I have been posting so far... but this is the one I had most fun writing yet. It must be the witty retorts, I just never run out of those to write down, and the Imelda-Monastario-Antoine pov are just too fun to use.
Next: Imelda is angry, and Diego and Antoine are reunited (for real, this time!) :)
For those wondering about the foreign words:
"negruzco,a" means "of black or very dark color, blackish" - "Viens ici, tout de suite" means "Come here, right now" - "tía" means "aunt"
edit: Thanks Valdhery for pointing out a slight oversight I did, I corrected it ;) ... and, hm, Vald is right, what is going on with the deaf and dumb story, hm? :D