"El es un buen hombre y no merece su destino."
He is a good man and does not deserve his fate.
At this, Diego started. For a time, his mind had lingered in the moment of Mendoza's parting, but his host's sombre, softly spoken words both roused and staggered him, as he seemed to hear them spoken in both languages.
Then, just as quickly, Ramone spoke again, this time his tone much lighter.
"However, he has yet to discover the wheel."
Their eyes connected and suddenly Diego found himself smiling and the tension of the awkward moment dissipated. Now more relaxed, Vega found himself eager to indulge his curiosity.
"He seems very serious about his role."
At this, Ramone frowned slightly, and his eye contact seemed to briefly intensify, then he brightened, as if in light of some inward recognition.
"Hymie was once a soldier, and I think he will always be so."
"And you are his Alcalde."
Ramone's gloved finger teased lightly at his lips, and once again, his eyes contact seemed to deepen, then his head tipped fractionally in acknowledgement.
"Si, esa es mi papel."
For a moment, Diego's command of the language faltered. Despite his own Spanish heritage, his understanding was sluggish at best.
"La mente se olvida, pero recuerda el corazón."
Beyond him, in some far distant and darkened place, a candlelight was flickering and beyond, colors and shapes. The sharp, brilliant red, a cooling white and the luminous warmth of skin. Long, following, darkened curves, gleaming first silvery, then deep, shimmering brown.
"There was a girl."
The revelation-the memory-erupted simultaneously from Diego's lips and his consciousness and at his words, Ramone's eyes widened.
"You saw her?"
Immeasurable lost and longing seizing at his breast.
An echo of his earlier, inexplicable pain stole Diego's breath and for a time, he could only nod in acknowledgement, struggling to articulate himself.
Then, at last, he found the words.
"Era tan hermosa , tan triste.."