My thanks to PamZ. Her transcripts contribute significantly to the creation of this story.
Every word you recognize from the series isn't mine.
Please, send me feedback on the translation of the previous chapter and this chapter. I am experimenting with a different method of translating and would like to hear your opinion on it and your preference.
Chapter 9
Diego could finally breathe a sigh of relief. On the first day, he had tried to lose a match. Unfortunately, he had the misfortune of facing opponents who dropped their swords at the first swing, making it impossible to make it seem like he had no chance against someone who at least knew what they were doing. By now, Diego had learned that the four women staying at the hacienda were two sisters, a niece, and a school friend of the oldest sister.
He had noticed how Ramon had closely observed him during his first three duels. After that, the alcalde shifted his attention to two men with similar stature, moustaches, and black hair, just as Zorro had. The deplorable way in which he handled the sword apparently convinced the alcalde that Diego de la Vega couldn't be Zorro. That was good news, as Diego could now focus on how to deal with the end of the tournament. Although it might not be necessary, considering the impressive sword skills displayed by the women.
Diego's father had watched his son's duels if it could even be called that. He had to admit that the opponents Diego had faced might as well have thrown away their entry fee. It was rotten luck his son had lost. Don Alejandro felt disappointed that the technique his son had shown was despicable. Was that all his son had to show for?
The last day of the tournament was tomorrow when the winner would be determined, earning the honour and one thousand pesos. Knowing Ramon, the alcalde had no intention of awarding such a large sum of money to anyone. The only way to convince Ramon that Zorro hadn't participated in the tournament was to ensure that Zorro made an appearance..
The following morning, it was nearly nine o'clock when there was a knock on Diego's bedroom door. He burrowed deeper under the covers and mumbled weakly, "Who's there?"
The door opened, and his father walked in, wearing a concerned expression. "Felipe told me you feel sick. What's wrong?"
Alejandro pulled the curtain aside slightly to let some light into the dark room. Diego winced in pain and let out a groan.
"Father, please close that curtain. I have a terrible headache. I can barely open my eyes."
Alejandro disregarded his son's request and opened the curtain further to examine his son closely. From what he could see, Diego didn't appear so ill, but he knew from experience how bothersome a headache could be. "So you won't be coming with me? I was hoping you would cheer me on."
Don Alejandro was one of the final ten participants who would compete against each other today. He looked forward to being the centre of attention and showcasing his swordsmanship to the interested audience. Perhaps, Alejandro hoped he even had a real chance of winning.
Yesterday, he had defeated two opponents who were half his age and more skilled than him. Alejandro had managed to win due to the years of experience he possessed.
Diego groaned again before saying, "I think it's better when I stay in bed. Maybe it will go away faster, and I can come to the pueblo this afternoon."
"If I were you, I'd get up instead. Fresh air can be a good remedy," Alejandro suggested.
"Father, even just opening my eyes hurts. Please close the curtain."
This time, don Alejandro did as his son asked. As the bedroom returned to darkness, he said, "Alright, then I'll go. Should I ask Maria to bring you something? Perhaps a cup of tea or something to eat?"
"No, thank you. I do think it's better if I try to get a bit more sleep."
Shaking his head, Don Alejandro turned away as Diego curled up further under the covers.
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Once his father was gone, Diego got up and entered the cave behind the fireplace. There, he saddled Toronado, disguised himself as Zorro, and set off towards Los Angeles.
The field where the tournament was taking place was adjacent to the outskirts of the pueblo. From the rooftop of the tavern, he could observe what was happening.
Zorro watched as his father duelled against the skilled young swordsman, don Rafael. The two men circled each other, their swords flashing in the sunlight.
Don Rafael was quick and agile, with a sharp eye and a steady hand. Don Alejandro, on the other hand, was an older and seasoned soldier. His movements were slow and a little rusty.
Despite his age, don Alejandro was determined to give it his all. He focused intently on his opponent, trying to predict his next move. Don Rafael seemed to be toying with him. He parried Alejandro's attacks with ease, darting in and out of range.
Finally, don Alejandro saw his opportunity. He lunged forward, feinting to the left, then striking to the right. But don Rafael was ready for him. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed don Alejandro and sent his sword clattering to the ground.
Zorro winced at the sight. He knew how much his father had wanted to win this tournament, and to be eliminated in such a way was a bitter blow. But he was proud of his father for trying, for not giving up even when the odds were against him.
One by one the other participants were eliminated until only two remained to face each other in the final duel. Everyone was astonished when señorita Magdalena proved to be one of the finalists. She would have to fight don Rafael. However, Ramon didn't plan to let it proceed that far. As soon as the finalists were known, he had don Rafael arrested on suspicion of being Zorro.
"Me, Zorro? How could you entertain such an absurd thought?" Rafael spoke in a commanding tone. "You should have yourself examined by doctor Hernandez because clearly, you lost your mind." Don Rafael was restrained by two lancers.
Ramon approached him, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, I didn't expect it to be you. I thought we were more on the same page regarding expectations. It just goes to show how mistaken one can be about people. More than a hundred individuals participated in this tournament. It can only mean that the winner is a gifted swordsman. And that leads me to believe that you must be Zorro."
Don Alejandro couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Alcalde, what a ludicrous reasoning. If you believe that, private Gomez could also be Zorro since he also finished as a finalist, as was I."
Ramon ran his gloved right hand over his chin. "Don't give me ideas, don Alejandro. I could arrest all the finalists and let them rot in my prison until I extract a confession. You were one of the finalists, you say? If I recall correctly, you know how comfortable my jail is." Sarcasm dripped from his voice. Noises of anger rose from the crowd. Don Alejandro was beloved and respected in the pueblo. Many saw him as the true leader of the small community. It was also a manifestation of discontent because many had looked forward to the decisive final duel and had placed bets on who would emerge as the winner.
Zorro decided to intervene before things could escalate any further. With the decisive duel approaching, he had hidden behind the cart where Victoria kept her supplies. Skillfully, Zorro climbed onto the cart and perched himself on top of a wine barrel. As all attention was focused on Ramon, no one noticed him until he began to speak.
"Alcalde!" he called out with a loud voice that echoed across the field, silencing the murmurs. "None of those men or women is Zorro." Zorro somersaulted off the cart, landed on the ground, rested his sword on his shoulder, and strolled casually towards Ramon.
"Señorita," he greeted señorita Magdalena. "Allow me to compliment you. I have seen you fight. I am impressed by your technique."
A faint blush appeared on the woman's cheeks.
Annoyed, Victoria Escalante rolled her eyes and blew an irritated curl away from her face.
Zorro hadn't noticed Victoria doing this. His attention focused on the alcalde. "Your plan was too transparent. Only a fool would fall for it."
"That remains to be seen," Ramon replied, drawing his sword as well. "After all, I have you right where I want you."
Ramon gestured with his fingers and shouted, "Lancers, seize him!"
Zorro turned towards the direction from which four lancers came charging at him. With ease, he overpowered them and the seven others. One by one, the lancers fell unconscious to the ground. Sergeant Mendoza was one of the last ones remaining. Zorro provocatively beckoned the sergeant with his finger, signalling him to come closer.
"Zorro," the sergeant stammered, holding his sword trembling in his hand. "I'm wearing my new uniform. It cost me three weeks' pay. Por favor..."
The fight between the sergeant and Zorro was over before it even began. With just one attack, Zorro disarmed Mendoza, slashing a Z in the uniform's jacket.
The alcalde had been seething with anger as he watched his entire garrison getting overpowered by one man. He unleashed his sword at Zorro.
The duel between the alcalde en Zorro was a spectacular display that left the crowd breathless. The alcalde, still boiling with anger, swung his sword wildly while Zorro gracefully evaded with swift movements and quick reflexes. Zorro turned it into a game, seeming to enjoy the situation.
With a swift turn, Zorro dodged the alcalde's furious attack, while making a teasing remark. "Alcalde, you swing that sword as if you're trying to shoo away flies. Perhaps you should practice a bit more!"
The crowd chuckled as they heard Zorro's verbal jabs. The alcalde, frustrated by the mockery, grew more and more reckless in his assaults. Yet, each time, Zorro seemed to evade just in time, as if he could predict the alcalde's every move.
With a swift motion, Zorro disarmed the alcalde leaving him bewildered and empty-handed. Zorro held his sword and pointed at the alcalde. He uttered with a grin. "Well, alcalde, I must admit you've given me quite a laugh. Your swordsmanship is almost as impressive as your plans. Almost."
The crowd laughed as Ramon turned red with anger and humiliation. Zorro gave him a mocking wink and turned around.
He whistled, and a beautiful black stallion came galloping. Zorro started to run, jumping in the saddle. "Let it be clear who the winner of this tournament is. Whoever participated in it. It never was me."
Zorro made a dramatic exit from the scene. He spurred his horse, causing it to rear up on its hind legs. With a flourish, Zorro waved to the cheering crowd, acknowledging their support.
In a swift motion, Zorro guided his horse into a gallop, heading towards the east. His black cape billowed behind him as he disappeared into the distance, leaving behind a sense of awe and admiration.
Ramon stood there in astonishment, wondering how he could have suffered such a defeat against a man who seemed to take so much pleasure in the whole affair. The duel had clearly demonstrated that Zorro was not only a skilled swordsman, but the nemesis was also a master at toying with his opponents.
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"Señorita Magdalena, allow me to toast to your victory," Don Alejandro raised his glass. The women planned to continue their journey the following day, and don Alejandro had offered them a farewell dinner. They also celebrated Magdalena's triumph over don Rafael and winning the duel. Don Alejandro was delighted as he had won a bet. "And let there never be any doubt that women are perfectly capable of holding their own," he added with a satisfied smile.
Magdalena graciously accepted the congratulations. She sipped from her wine glass and said, "That was fun to participate. However, I would have loved to duel with this el Zorro. From what I've seen, he is a force to be reckoned with."
"No doubt about that," Don Alejandro agreed. "I fear we all would stand no chance if we had to duel against Zorro. He is truly skilled. What do you say, Diego?"
Diego nodded absentmindedly. "I completely agree with you, father."
Magdalena took another sip of her wine and glanced around the room. The celebration was in full swing, with laughter and conversation filling the air. It was a joyful moment, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her own accomplishments.
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