Chapter 5
De Soto's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and triumph as he witnessed a rider dressed entirely in black emerge in the distance. A wicked grin spread across his face, relishing the opportunity that lay before him. He swiftly issued orders to his lancers, commanding them to fire at the approaching figure. While he held little hope that his subordinates' aim would prove accurate, he intended it as a warning, a stark reminder to Zorro that danger always lurked.
However, to De Soto's astonishment, the wild horse charged forward, its rider clinging tightly to its back. The horse reared up suddenly, casting off its helpless passenger before galloping away, leaving the fallen figure sprawled on the ground. De Soto's anticipated triumph was replaced with a sense of unfulfilled longing. He had fantasized about overpowering his black-clad nemesis in the centre of the bustling plaza, but now he would have to settle for this small victory.
His accompanying lancers mirrored De Soto's surprise, their expressions a mix of disbelief and uncertainty. "Have we captured Zorro?" one of them stammered, as if grappling with the notion that apprehending the infamous vigilante could even be possible.
De Soto's excitement grew, fuelled by the realization that his long-awaited moment had finally arrived. He allowed himself a smug smile before responding, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Yes, bind his arms and legs securely. We cannot afford to let him escape."
"But... it's Zorro!" one of the lancers interjected, as if the mere mention of the masked hero's name rendered their efforts futile.
De Soto's determination flared, refusing to let the elusive fox slip through his fingers. He snarled at the hesitant lancer, his voice dripping with menace. "Then you had better ensure that your bindings are tight. For if he does manage to escape, it will be your neck on the line come tomorrow."
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