Chapter I. In which Don Diego's world collapses all of a sudden
Approaching the tavern, Diego was in an excellent mood. Obviously, soon the Governor would officially remove Monastario from the post of the Comandante of the pueblo, and the Captain would be punished for his official abuses. But it was unlikely that Don Esteban would decide his fate. It was strange that he visited the Pueblo de los Ángeles, and Diego intended to find out the true reason for the Viceroy's visit to their outback. While studying in Madrid, the young de la Vega had taken part in the Liberal Triennium*, but, frankly speaking, he was not particularly interested in the news of the war for the independence of his native America, since the fight with Monastario completely captured him. In California there were already enough events, without adding the hostilities between royalists and rebels (with whom, of course, Diego sympathized with all his heart). In the cache, de la Vega kept a small portrait of General Rafael del Riego** with wishes from his like-minded people on the back. The young man re-read them sometimes, and it strengthened his determination to fight against lawlessness, and against the officers who disgraced the uniform. People like Captain Monastario.
It was a pity that Diego had never seen again the light-eyed caballero, to whom Diego gave his sword four years ago. Now he had nothing left of this encounter but half-erased memories. Diego wanted to believe that he was alive and well. It was unlikely that someone who handled the Navaja knife so skillfully was a soldier, which was probably for the best. Diego, like his father, had grown weary of the military, even though his grandfather was an officer, one of the founders of Alta California. It was to Major de la Vega that his descendants owed their wealth and position in society.
Sometimes, looking at the portrait of General Riego, Diego felt burning shame for the fact that in the eyes of others he appeared to be a nobody as Don Diego and a criminal as El Zorro. Would his grandfather be proud of his cunning grandson or, on the contrary, condemn him? Would he consider him a hero or a bandit? His father was ashamed of his dapper, bookish son, although studying at the university was his idea. Before Diego's trip to Madrid, Don Alejandro approved of playing musical instruments and writing poetry. He had even instilled in his son in passion for horses, which couldn't be said about fencing. Diego saw that the Spanish army had disappointed his father. Yet sometimes, Don Alejandro approved of the actions of the authorities, very often making Diego ready to lose his temper and tear off the mask of a mumbling poet. He wished he could talk about his views, about Zorro, about Riego, about his participation in the Ateneo***, about that old fight in a tavern on the outskirts of Madrid. What an irony that the scoundrel Monastario owned a Toledo blade, indistinguishable from his first weapon! Really, it was a pity that the nameless, brave Madrid man couldn't see El Zorro now—he would be proud of the Fox, for some reason Diego was sure of it. But he should not despair, perhaps they were destined to meet again. They would drink a lot of wine then—even though Diego usually didn't drink much—and later, having sobered up, they would fight a friendly duel, finally on equal terms. Monastario was good, but in fact Diego did not want to smile while fencing with the Comandante: he was ashamed to admit that it hurt him that the Captain so openly hated his enemy. And Monastario treated Don Diego even worse—without respect.
Diego's mood soured. Frowning, hе opened the door. But then he put a polite smile on his face.
"¡Buenos días, don Esteban!"****
Returning the greeting, the Viceroy admitted that he was just about to drink coffee after breakfast and offered to join him. Covering his mouth with his hand, de la Vega yawned unfeignedly, apologized and admitted that an extra cup of coffee would not hurt him. Laughing, Don Esteban joked about youth and a stormy night, but Diego, who had not yet taken a lover in his native pueblo, did not appreciate the joke. Moreover, yesterday, while telling his father about the arrest of the Captain, Diego heard the unexpected.
"Sometimes I think I should have you to the army, and not to the damn university! Monastario, making plans to capture Zorro, got out of bed at dawn, and you, composing serenades for non-existent sweethearts at night, you sleep until lunch!"
His father's remark offended Diego, who, even if he wrote poetry, did not do so with the goal of seducing anyone, but first of all, his nights were devoted to duty, and the Fox needed more than a couple of hours of sleep, like the former Comandante, otherwise Monastario would have easily coped with him. In Madrid, Diego usually went to bed after midnight, and the absence of love affairs was explained simply: in addition to receiving an education and participating in the political life of the capital, the young de la Vega learned to use a sword, a whip and other weapons, and also improved as a horseman and an acrobat. In the first year of living in Madrid he was so tired that he did not study very well, but then he succeeded in everything. In everything except singing serenades under the windows of young widows. Was rather foolish in his choice of señoritas, and for a long time could not understand that the capital's beauties, not wanting to marry a young man from New Spain, just behaved playfully, but always unapproachable. But after that ever-memorable fight, de la Vega stopped being attracted to dancers, and even less to majas or gypsies. He did not think that murder was an appropriate price for the love of such women, even if he desperately wanted something... spicy. And the young señor did not want to pay money for love.
Ironically, Diego's first mistress had been a maja. As it had turned out, she had invited the young man to her bed because he did not remind her in any way of the one she was yearning for.
"A captain, can you imagine?" the beauty had opened up after love, smoking a cigar. "Me and an officer, who would have thought... You hardly know about this, niño*****, but our King sends many military men loyal to freedom to serve overseas, damn him!" she had exclaimed, looking at the brightening strip of sky on the horizon.
Without turning around, she had straightened the taffeta mantilla thrown over her dark shoulders and indifferently ordered, "You know... don't come again. Otherwise you will fall in love, but you should not."
When they said goodbye, she had called him a good boy, which had felt like a slap in the face.
Back then, Diego did not know that in a few months he would receive a letter from his father and would hastily go home to Los Ángeles. There, as before, he didn't have enough strength or time for women. It seemed that cavalrymen with the rank of captain had a bad habit of interfering with his personal happiness.
Having conveyed to Don Esteban his father's invitation to honor the de la Vega family with a visit to their hacienda, Diego received a polite refusal in response. The Viceroy and his daughter were leaving for Monterrey the next day.
"But what about Captain Monastario?" de la Vega burst out.
"Of course, he and Licenciado Piña will go with us. Speaking of Monastario... Would you like to keep the Captain's blade?" Don Esteban suggested, dipping a churro****** into his hot chocolate. "Excellent Toledo steel and interesting engraving—"
"Engraving?" Diego was surprised.
Of course, he had never examined Monastario's weapon up close. Probably some kind of dedicatory inscription—or a pathetic motto. Quite in the manner of this pompous fool.
"Yes, the saying 'Luchar a capa y espada'. Only the worthy one should own such a blade."
Diego thought he had misheard. Coincidence? Coincidence, it simply could not be anything else!
Meanwhile, the Viceroy ordered a servant to bring the sword and continued the conversation. De la Vega listened, but all this time he imagined that Captain Monastario was standing in the dining room of the tavern, arms crossed, silently gazing at him.
Drawing the blade, Diego almost threw it away like a poisonous snake. Yes, years ago he himself ordered this inscription. No, Monastario could not be the idol of Diego's youth. He just could not, that was all.
"Well, Diego, I was glad to meet you," the Viceroy's words reached de la Vega through the noise in his ears.
Really awkwardly, without any pretense this time, Diego sheathed the cursed blade, said the required pleasantries and words of farewell, and then walked out into the bright sun. He would think about it later. He would tell Bernardo, and—
"Don Diego, we need to talk." Grabbing a confused Diego by the arm, the Viceroy's daughter, Doña Constancia, dragged him around the corner of the Posada de los Ángeles. "Draw your blade and pretend to show it to me. We cannot be seen from the windows of the tavern, only from the street. What did my father tell you about Captain Monastario's future?"
"Monastario and Piña will go with you to the capital tomorrow so that the Governor—"
"No. My father lied to you. Monastario will be executed tomorrow at dawn."
"Executed?"
"They will hang him. That's clearer?"
"Quite. But why?"
"Diego, you look too serious. Smile! But I am glad that you do not wish the death of the Señor Captain."
Clutching the Toledo blade in his hands and stretching his lips in an unnatural smile, Diego thought that that morning his world had ceased to be black and white. It was easy to make a choice between evil and good, but what to choose when every choice you make seems wrong?
"I shall be brief. I beg you, Diego, save him. The execution must take place secretly, in the courtyard of the garrison. Monastario, as far as I know, is being kept in his bedroom. But first it was thoroughly searched and in a hiding place among the papers they found a letter from Riego addressed to the Captain."
"A letter from General Riego?! And what is in it?"
"It follows from it that Monastario was ready to support Riego in removing His Royal Majesty Don Fernando from power if this was necessary for the good of Spain. You see, Captain Monastario took part in the revolt, but then he was sent overseas, appointed the Comandante of this pueblo and Licenciado Piña was assigned to him. Thus, the Captain had no choice but to show in every possible way... trustworthiness. Oh, it can be hard to please the authorities! Especially in Las Californias, where provincial commandants and governors usually compete with each other. Although you, Diego, are obviously far from politics... In a word, Piña either out of envy or to curry favor with my father put Monastario in an unfavorable light. I do not believe a single piece of evidence from this señor! After all, the Captain could have joined the local rebels. But, I believe, he, like me," a smile slipped across the girl's lips, "considers them traitors. This land belonged and will always belong to the King of Spain! Whoever he is," she added quietly.
"Wait, señorita. But my father and I, like other residents of the pueblo, witnessed the abuses of the Comandante, and besides, Captain Monastario accused Don Nacho of treason in order to get his rancho!"
With an irritated snort, Constancia said, "Ignacio Torres is a supporter of the American Rebellion, and Señor Torres should be hanged instead of Captain Monastario. Or... the outlaw Zorro," she said, narrowing her eyes. After a significant pause, she looked at Diego, and continued, "Even the most stupid sergeant, when he retires, receives land in California as a reward for his service, just as your grandfather once received it, Diego. And if Captain Monastario had not been a supporter of General Riego, he could have become the richest man in Alta California. By the way, I saw Torres' daughter. Monastario could not be interested in such an ugly girl."
Diego blinked. Was the Viceroy's daughter... partial to Monastario? The world definitely turned upside down today.
"I'm sure Captain Monastario would be glad to discuss the current circumstances with my father, and then join the active army, because every good officer counts now. We did not expect betrayal from Iturbide, but Napoleon's example probably turned his head... Ah, this letter!.. Sometimes a mere trifle can ruin everything! I would not have known about the letter or the execution, but my father was upset and... Yesterday I was stupid to lie to him that I did not like... it does not matter. However, if I had told the truth, it would only have been worse... My father belongs to the older generation, for whom the power of the monarch is sacred. Besides, if my father had made a different decision, he would have put our entire family at risk, I understand that... But we should not wring our hands prematurely. Diego, do you have any suggestions?"
"Constancia, I would be glad to help, but I doubt I shall be able to. Unlike, for example, the bandit El Zorro, I am a lousy swordsman—"
"If you don't help me, then rest assured, my father will come to the conclusion that you are Zorro. Diego, my brother told me about your fencing awards, and I have not forgotten anything. Who knows if Captain Monastario was right?"
Diego hated being blackmailed into doing something he did not want to do. However, Monastario turned out to be his Madrid savior, and he could not allow the death of the Captain. In addition, Diego simply did not have time to think about the next stunning news. The Toledo blade, Riego's letter, the "unreliable" Monastario and, it seemed, the most enviable bride of New Spain who was head over heels in love with him... Whose father will never bless their marriage. Enough plot twists for a good play at the theater in Monterrey!
"But why do you defend Captain Monastario so passionately?" Diego asked delicately, absentmindedly stroking the engraving on the blade. "I thought he was unpleasant to you."
"You're wrong. You are glad that Zorro saved Torres and your father from execution, aren't you? Why are you surprised by the compassion I feel towards the Captain?"
"Because he... he is completely unbearable!" de la Vega finally exploded, already realizing that he would save this bastard, whether he wanted to or not.
Diego did not understand women at all! Arriving in California, he had supposed that Don Alejandro was prejudiced towards the newly appointed Comandante, but as soon as Diego had seen Monastario, all doubts had disappeared: the Captain, to put it mildly, did not inspire confidence. And his posturing? "How this Toledo blade sings," Madre de Dios! However, maids whispered about the Comandante's "angel blue eyes," and, probably, Doña Constancia also had the misfortune of being enchanted by them. It was worth admitting that Monastario could sometimes be a charming person, but yesterday Diego was sure that the daughter of the Viceroy was more perceptive than the daughters of peons.
"Prejudice speaks in you, Diego! You are a caballero, so act like one!"
"But Monastario is simply incapable of caring for the good of Spain!" exclaimed de la Vega, who was not so much outraged by the demand to save the Comandante, but by the tone in which Constancia spoke to him in the absence of her father. "He is selfish, vain, cruel and mean. General Riego made a mistake about him! So do you, señorita!"
And even I, an eternity ago, de la Vega added to himself. If he believed for a moment that Monastario's nature had a bright side, that he was capable of nobility, Diego would make irreparable mistakes.
"Enough! If you do not help, I shall tell my father that you tried to seduce me!"
"What?! How dare you—"
Grinning, Constancia interrupted de la Vega, "All is fair in love and war."
"'In love' means—"
"I'm tired of you, Don Diego. Listen and remember. After yesterday's 'masquerade' you still have a Zorro costume; I'm sure there will be a black stallion too. We should agree on a time so that you, disguised as a bandit, if necessary, stun the soldiers on patrol in the garrison courtyard, and at the same time, I will order the guards to go outside the bedroom door and warn Monastario. When you take the Captain away, I shall begin a long monologue, buying time for you, and only at the end I'll raise the alarm. Hopefully, it will not surprise anyone that I was scared of an armed bandit."
"It may be surprising that the bandit kidnapped his enemy, on the exact night before the execution," Diego grinned.
To put it mildly, he did not like this plan, and also did not like Constancia's participation in the release of the former Comandante. Diego always relied either on himself or on those he trusted, and therefore did not want to involve anyone other than Bernardo. But it seemed Constancia left him no choice.
Notes
*The goal of the revolution (civil war) of 1820–1823 in Spain (Spanish: Trienio Liberal, "Free Three Years") was the abolition of feudal relations. The beginning of the revolution was marked by the performance of troops in Cádiz on January 1, 1820 (which was initiated and led by General Rafael del Riego), which caused an uprising throughout the country. On March 7, the royal palace in Madrid was surrounded by soldiers, and the King agreed to restore the 1812 Constitution.
** Spanish general, liberal politician. Played a key role in the revolution (civil war) of 1820–1823 in Spain. After the French intervention and counter-revolution, despite a general amnesty, he was executed (in particular, for advocating the removal of King Ferdinand VII from power). The song "Riego's Anthem" was written in honor of Riego. Currently, his portrait is located in the building of the Cortes (Spanish parliament): wikipedia/commons/c/c3/Rafael_
*** "Athenæum of Madrid" (Spanish: Ateneo de Madrid) emerged as a patriotic and literary society in 1820, at the beginning of the Liberal Triennium or the Spanish Revolution (Spanish: Trienio Liberal, "Free / Liberal Three Years"). Three years later, the Ateneo was closed. Such "patriotic societies" advocated social change and eventually became political clubs.
**** Good morning, Don Esteban! (Spanish)
***** Baby (Spanish)
****** A traditional Spanish dessert in the form of sausages made from choux pastry, which is most often eaten in the morning, dipped in hot chocolate.
