Author's note: It's time for someone to hear what others think of his behavior...

Chapter 4. A Few Words Of Truth

Returning to the hacienda, Victoria found herself trembling. There, in the pueblo's plaza, for one paralyzing moment, she had thought that Zorro would die. When the desperado tried to stab him, she couldn't even scream, and she still had that ghastly screeching noise with which the two blades moved in her ears. And, although Zorro had left seemingly alive and well, she saw the tears in the black silk all too clearly. Though she didn't see a trace of blood, that didn't mean her husband wasn't hurt.

She didn't know whether to run to their room or the cave first, but, through the window, she saw Diego was in the patio. He sat in the same chair he usually chose for their late-night chats, but his pose had nothing to do with his usual relaxation. On the contrary, he remained with his head drooping, staring at his hands on his knees as if he was overwhelmed by some unhappy thoughts. And that was probably the only reason why Victoria did not throw herself into his arms, but stopped when she was only a few steps away from him.

"Diego?" She asked. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you?"

He shook his head, never taking his eyes off his hands.

She did not believe it. Not after seeing Zorro fall as his opponent tried to impale him to the ground, and the shreds of black fabric which flew over the black-clad man's shoulder.

She ran her hands over Diego's shoulders, then over his torso, checking if there were bandages under the white caballero shirt.

Her inquisitive study of him got her husband out of his thoughts. He held her hands, then stood up.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "The blade only passed through the fabric."

"I thought..." she whispered, unable to say aloud what flashed through her mind at that moment. "What happened? Why…"

"Not here!" Diego looked quickly from side to side. "In the library."

She nodded. The patio, although enclosed, had good acoustics. While no servants were in the house at the moment, if someone came, standing around the corner of the house or in one of the rooms, he could hear their conversation.

Before they moved to the entrance, she moved quickly to Diego to put her arm around him. She felt him shake at her touch but, then, he embraced her as well, clenching his hand slightly as if to make sure she was standing next to him.

Victoria released her grip only when they entered the library. Diego released her reluctantly and only stopped by the fireplace.

"What happened?" She repeated the question.

"I would also like to hear an explanation." Don Alejandro entered the room right behind them . "I've never seen you lose your balance before."

"I…" Diego hesitated. "I do not know. I cannot explain that. I had to step back and..."

"And you almost died. Is it fatigue after so many days in the saddle?"

"No! I do not know!" The young caballero spread his hands helplessly. "Better tell me, will Alicio live?"

Don Alejandro nodded.

"He will. The doctor said it is a concussion. He will be bedridden for a few weeks, but should recover without any serious repercussions. And anticipating your next question, Tomaso and I will send some men to help Magdalena on the farm and protect her until her husband recovers."

"Thank you," Diego sighed. "I saw that they got to the pueblo, but I couldn't..."

"Magdalena told everyone how you saved them," Victoria interrupted.

The young de la Vega shook suddenly.

"And did she also say I almost killed the others?" He asked with sudden bitterness, not looking in her direction. "With my bare hands?"

" Yes. And judging from the way she talked about it, she wouldn't have minded if you would have," don Alejandro replied.

Diego was silent for a moment.

"I thought I scared her to death," he finally said. "I turned their house into a ruin. She looked as if she didn't know which of us was worse..."

"Zorro saved her life for the second time," Victoria replied. "And he also saved her husband. That is all that matters to her."

He shook his head slightly as if what she said did not convince him. Don Alejandro, seeing that, frowned.

"We need to talk, Diego," he said.

"About what?" His son leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest.

Victoria stood beside him without a word. She took a deep breath. For this conversation she had gathered arguments all the way from the pueblo and saw no better opportunity than this moment.

"About what has happened to you in the last three days. About the reason why you have almost gotten yourself killed a few hours ago," said don Alejandro.

"You know what I was doing."

"Yes. But we also know that you've never disappeared for so long before," retorted Victoria.

"I could not…"

"So now you use our knowledge of your masked identity to disappear for however long you want?"

"Why are you reproaching me?" He asked softly. "You know I had to find those bandits. And even so I was almost too late..."

Victoria took a deep breath.

"I reproach you..." she began and fell silent. The conversation was not going in the right direction. That wasn't what she wanted to tell him. "You're right, I shouldn't," she admitted. "I just wanted to say I'm worried about you."

"We're both worried because there's something wrong with you," don Alejandro said.

"Something wrong?" He asked in a strange tone as if both surprised and concerned. "You noticed it?"

"How could I not?" Victoria came closer and rested her hand on his chest. "Now that I know what you really are, how could I not see when you play that Diego in front of me again? How could I not hear the pretense in your voice?"

"I don't have a choice. I can't reveal my true self to the pueblo right away..." he began.

"But in the pueblo you behave more like yourself!" She interrupted him. "It is with me that you're pretending. Either that or you just run away."

"No…"

"You're not running? What have you been doing these last days? After all, Zorro has had no trouble finding the bandits so far. He didn't have to wander around the whole territory!"

Diego jerked as if struck, clenching his fists. Before he stepped back, Victoria grabbed his hands. He relaxed his hands under her fingers.

"I know you had to track them down," she said. "But they're in custody now. Now is the time for you to think about us. Diego, I… I am afraid.

"Of me?" He asked with sudden bitterness.

"No. I am afraid about us. About what people will do with us."

He looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"You haven't been to the hacienda for the last two days," she said. "When I went to the inn, only your father accompanied me. When you finally showed up, you only greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. As if we weren't married. How long do you think it will take for people to start gossiping?"

"You didn't say anything..."

"Because one overheard excuse would be enough for us to be on everyone's tongues! They'd wonder whether you think our wedding was a mistake!"

Her husband stepped back, retreating his hands away from hers.

"You think they would dare?" He asked. "That anyone would say something like that? After what I did?"

The pain and anger in Diego's voice made Victoria embrace him. He hugged her back, holding her as tightly as he had only done a few times before.

"What did you do, son?" Don Alejandro asked from his side. "Why did you escape the tavern yesterday as if you were being chased?" He added as they looked his way.

"You know what I did," growled Diego. He gently freed himself from Victoria's arms. He wanted to fold his arms again, but she held his hands and stood so that he continued hugging her.

"You interrupted the conversation and ran away," repeated the elder de la Vega. "Because if you think that challenging all those who speak ill of Victoria to a duel would stop the rumor mill, you are mistaken. At most, they will repeat the gossip behind your back."

"And look at me with fear in their eyes," His son finished bitterly.

"You are really not yourself, Diego, if you mistake respect for fear."

"Aren't they afraid of me? The farmers, Mendoza..."

The older caballero took in a breath.

"If people are worried about something, it's your behavior," he said. "But they were also more worried about what happened than they were scared."

"And Mendoza was happy that you helped him settle that dispute," added Victoria.

"Should I believe it?" Diego asked softly. "That they are not afraid of murderers? Take it at face value that I'm a hero because I saved the pueblo with this murder?"

Victoria gasped. She turned to her husband, but don Alejandro spoke before she could say a word.

"A duel is not murder, Diego."

"Even when I was able to disarm Ignacio after two strikes?"

"And what would have happened then? If you had ended the fight like that? What orders would he have given?"

Diego half opened his mouth to answer his father and froze. The older caballero just nodded.

"Yes, I can see you understand what I mean," he said. "From the moment when you crossed blades, there was no turning back, Diego."

The younger de la Vega lowered his head.

"You warned me," he said slowly. "You warned me not to get carried away by my anger, and that's exactly what I did."

Don Alejandro nodded.

"Earlier… If I hadn't hit him..."

"I would have," interrupted the elder de la Vega.

Diego looked surprised at his father.

"But…"

"I would have done it then and I would have dueled. But I admit that I would have been surprised, perhaps even disappointed, if, at that moment, you had managed to compose yourself enough to let him offend Victoria. Before you start protesting, think about what would have been expected of anyone other than you in such a situation!

"But I was provoked by de Soto and accepted his challenge."

"And you did what was right. Note that if you hadn't answered him then you wouldn't have been able to defend her from his attacks. And you know he would have attacked. He wouldn't have allowed for her to feel safe, even as your wife."

The younger man took a deep breath as he took Victoria to his side.

"I know that," he said. "It occurred to me. Only I didn't want to kill him. I did not want him dead... But I also do not regret the fact that he is dead. Just as I don't regret the death of Monsangre and his soldiers. And that's what scares me." Diego released his wife and bowed his head. "I've never before thought…" He broke off.

"What didn't you think?" Victoria rested a hand on his shoulder.

Diego was silent for a long time.

"That I can kill a man and not feel regret," he finally replied, so softly that his father could barely hear his words. "Not feel guilty."

"So, it wasn't an accident?" She asked softly.

"No," Diego replied with a confident voice, but then he shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I planned to face de Soto with a whip as Zorro. At the fountain, in front of people. All I had to do was figure out what would keep the troops out of the garrison long enough to take my time. Especially since I wanted to have a moment more to check all the nooks and crannies of his office. I suspected that I would find evidence of his frauds there. Anything that could be used to ensure that the governor would charge him." The young de la Vega paused and sighed before looking at his father and wife. "I wanted enough evidence to have him publicly demoted and stripped of his uniform. Here, in Los Angeles, in front of all people. I wanted to destroy him as he destroyed you, querida. To have him stand in the middle of the plaza; a broken man in shackles, in front of the entire pueblo. I wanted him to remember that humiliation during all the years he would spend in jail and long after." Diego clenched his fists. "I know it sounds terrible, but I wanted to trample him down, to humiliate him..."

He paused and took a deep breath, forcing himself to release his hand with all his will.

"But he made you duel."

"Yes. You're right, at that moment, I knew I had no choice. I had to react to his insults. And the duel… I thought it was an occasion; a chance for me to fight him as Diego. I just wanted to hurt him. Mutilate him. So I planned…" He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible, almost a whisper. "I can't say... I don't remember... Did I not want him to die then in the square? I was aiming for the cheek... Did my hand twitch because I wanted to kill him? Because I let my anger take me?" Diego covered his face with a trembling hand, hiding behind spread fingers. But this time it didn't work, peace didn't come.

Victoria embraced her husband, trying to comfort him with just a hug. Don Alejandro also came closer and rested his hand on his son's shoulder. What he had feared weeks ago was just a step away. Diego's self-control, a mask held up for years, weakened by terror, duel and physical exhaustion, was beginning to crack.

"Even if you got angry, you didn't let him completely blind you," remarked the caballero. "You fought with a cool head."

"So much worse..." Diego muttered under his breath, but his father heard.

"Why worse?" He asked sharply.

His son jerked his head up.

"Because I crossed the line?" He replied with a question. "Because I was so weak that I couldn't help but kill?" There was undisguised bitterness in his voice.

"So, it hurts you? Is that why you run away?"

"Shouldn't I run away? I killed. I have seen a man fall to the ground, life draining out of him! And what? And nothing. You understand?" Diego almost spat out these words in a feverish rush. "I didn't feel anything then, and I still don't! Doesn't that mean that I'm a killer? A threat to anyone who has the misfortune to provoke me? Like those two at the Turrons? Because I don't regret anything, either..."

Diego pressed his back against the wall as if he wanted to hide in it. At the same time, he raised his hands, clutching his hair with his fingers, as if trying to find something there and tear it out, or to control his inner trembling with physical pain.

Victoria grabbed his wrists and firmly pulled his hands down. He released his hands from her grasp and wrapped his arms around her, as if seeking support in that embrace.

The elder de la Vega shook his head and rested his hand on his son's shoulder again.

"You're not a killer, Diego," he said.

"Am I not?!" Diego jerked, but Victoria was holding him on one side, and his father on the other.

"No," repeated don Alejandro. "Did you forget I was a soldier? A commander? I have learned to recognize what kind of people are serving under my command. You are not the killer."

"You have learned…" the young de la Vega began to say, but his father interrupted him.

"All I see in you, son," he continued, "is a man who has found himself in such a difficult situation for the first time. Who feels lost because he did not expect such a test nor knew how he would pass it."

"And the fact that I do not regret these deaths?"

"How many times have you dreamt that you were late? Up there in the hills? How many times have you drank herbs to sleep without dreams?"

Diego opened his mouth for a moment, surprised. At the same time Victoria sucked in a breath, half surprised by the words of the older caballero, half of pain, because her husband's hands on her shoulders suddenly clenched painfully.

"You would be a saint if you regretted any of those bastards," his father continued. "I know it was easier for you with those soldiers, because they were both strangers and obvious accidents, but remember Zaragosa. You regretted him, right?"

"Yes. I tried not to show it, but..."

"But that man didn't hurt Victoria, did he?"

The young de la Vega could only nod.

"You did what you had to do, Diego." This time don Alejandro rested both hands on his son's shoulders. "I told you that right after you got married, and I repeat it now. You don't feel guilty about this death, not because you are a killer, but because he had hurt the woman you love. And you know he would have been hurting her further if you hadn't stopped him. What's more, you know deep down in your heart that, if you hadn't killed him, that duel would have ended in your death and hers.

Diego took a deep breath and shook his head slowly, as if trying to understand his father's words. Victoria looked at him anxiously, trying to guess if her husband was convinced. She was afraid that he couldn't accept what he heard.

"Diego..." she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Please try again to see how others treat you." She could see the confusion in his eyes and suddenly realized how he must have felt during the days when she insisted on leaving Los Angeles while he was urging her to return to the pueblo. "Listen to us, Diego," she said.

Don Alejandro noticed the look in his son's eyes too.

"Listen, Diego," he began. "You are neither the first to kill his opponent in a duel, nor the only one who had a hard time making a life for himself. I guess all of us older caballeros have gone through it at some point. And although we did succeed, we remember that there were those who failed, and it destroyed them in body and soul. Esteban or Tomaso remember you as the boy I sent to Madrid and they got used to this strange Diego who came back. For all you knew, because you didn't carry a sword, they still saw you as a young man, someone who needed protection..."

"But..." Diego said, but don Alejandro raised his hand, ordering him to be silent.

"The same goes for the rest of the people in the pueblo," he said. "They didn't know you were protecting them. You may find it unfair that people value this one duel more than your years of putting your life on the line as Zorro, but only now have they seen you as a man, and they want to respect you as such. So now they worry about you, and they worry about your behavior because they are afraid that you will not be able to handle this burden. That someone they valued much less, who had hurt everyone around for years, would now be able to destroy you from beyond the grave. They are trying to support you, hence their praise. Can you understand that?

"I…" Diego hesitated. "I want to believe it, Father... I want to believe you are right. But I can't yet."

Unexpectedly, Felipe slipped between don Alejandro and Victoria. When Diego looked at him, the teenager started signing. "Give it time! You always said that to me and you were right. It'll get better, just don't lose faith and it will all work out."

Before the young de la Vega could say anything, Victoria spoke up.

"He's right. I don't quite understand what he just told you, but he knows you best and he is right. Trust him! Trust us," she asked.

Felipe thanked her with a relieved smile. Diego bowed his head, defeated. Now his relatives could see how much Zorro had tired of the last days.

Don Alejandro rested his hand on his son's shoulder again.

"I know it's not an easy time for you, but think about it," he suggested. "Remember what I said about my experience. About how this duel might have ended and what people thought about the alcalde. And, most importantly, Diego, for God's sake, remember that you have a family!"

"Come!" Victoria put her arm around her husband again. "You can barely stand on your feet. You need to take a rest."

The elderly de la Vega watched Diego leave the library, led by his wife, and breathed a sigh as the young people disappeared into the corridor. It was now clear to him that, until now, his son had not so much blamed himself for de Soto's death, but rather could not come to terms with the knowledge that he was capable of murder when the situation demanded it. He did not understand that the lack of guilt did not mean that he was just like the murderers Zorro handed over to the soldiers.

Together with Victoria they shook Diego up a little. He hoped that, although they hadn't used the arguments most painful for him, they had been hard enough on him to stop him from looking for something that wasn't there, in himself and in others. In any case, he, as a father, had told him the truth. People were not so much concerned as worried about his son.

He, himself, knew young men in Madrid whose victories in duels only wounded their souls, as if part of them had died with their opponent. But the tragedy of those clashes was also the fact that they took place for trivial reasons and between friends; and Diego, even if he had once liked Ignacio in Madrid, probably had had no warm feelings for him for a long time. And it was not just about Victoria, although it undoubtedly outweighed the scales, but about earlier disappointment with the alcalde's actions.

Now Diego was burdened with the fact that he did not live up to his own expectation. It must have been a painful hit to his pride and trust in his cunning and self-control, and he had not yet understood that he had being in a hopeless situation at that moment. Now there was a chance he would come to terms with it; what he had done would become a bitter lesson for the future, and they knew how far he could go if necessary.

As for convincing people that Diego had done more for Los Angeles than Zorro... Well, don Alejandro hoped that whoever was appointed as the new alcalde would be reasonable enough to let his son keep helping people, now without having to wear a mask.

TBC.