Victoria spent the morning listening from behind the counter to all the rumors about the pueblo's newest inhabitant.
Then, just around noon, as she was dusting off some bottles, several servants rushed inside with envelopes for their respective dons.
The men all took them and stared in dismay before opening them. "El Conde de Dragonera has the honor to invite Don Antonio de Silva, together with his family, to attend a ball on the premises of Hacienda Dragonera – formerly known as Hacienda De la Vega – Sunday,16 October 1814, at 8 PM." one of the caballeros read.
"I received a similar one." Another informed the others.
"I think it's safe to say we were all invited." The oldest of them uttered. "The man certainly has good manners."
Right then, Maria entered the tavern, bringing with her a similar envelope for Victoria, while her husband, who had gone with her to the pueblo, headed for the alcalde's office.
"For you, Señorita!" the elderly woman said, handing her the white envelope.
Victoria looked at her in disbelief and took it, hurrying to open it. Inside there was a similar message as the one she had heard read out by one of the dons, only it was addressed to her.
"He wants me to come?"
"Si, Señorita."
"You met the count? What is he like?" A don asked the woman at overhearing her conversation with the innkeeper.
"I only got to greet him as he arrived, Don Pablo," the woman answered. "He's tall, very dashing, dark-haired, wears a black fashionable beard, and looks to be about thirty years of age. I can't tell you much more than that."
"And is there a countess with him?"
"No, Don Paco. He's unmarried from what I know."
"In that case, we should all make sure our daughters look their best this Sunday, my friends." The same man suggested with some amusement.
"Too bad my daughter is but 12…" another don muttered. "But, who knows? Perhaps he likes them younger."
"You can't be serious, Don Pedro!" Victoria said appalled.
"I sure am, Señorita," the man said as he hurried out, leaving a few coins on the table.
His friends followed in his footsteps, leaving the tavern almost empty.
About twenty minutes later, Victoria was distracted from her musings by the arrival of the lancers dragging behind them several farmers, all tied up to their horses.
"What's going on, Sergeant?" the young woman asked at seeing that.
"The alcalde wants every man who hasn't paid their taxes arrested, Señorita. He says they will remain in jail until the money is paid"
"But how can they pay if they are not allowed to work, Sergeant?" she asked, starting in the direction of De Soto's office.
She didn't get further away than the terrace, however, several shouts made her turn around.
Zorro had just made his way into Los Angeles and was already cutting the ropes binding the hands of the people captured by the lancers. The men smiled at him and ran away while the lancers drew their swords to attack. Zorro jumped from his horse to cause chaos in the plaza while taking down his adversaries one by one. At some point, several lancers attacked and forced him to fight several lancers at once, disarming them all with ease and sending their swords several feet away.
"What's going on?" De Soto exited his office demanding to find out. "Zorro!" he said in a panic. "Lancers! Shoot him!"
His orders were useless for neither one of his remaining men had their muskets at hand.
At seeing the alcalde, Zorro whistled for his stallion, who came at a gallop. The black-clad man mounted and guided Tornado near Ignacio, who took refuge behind Victoria.
"Hiding behind a woman's skirt seems low even for you, De Soto," the masked man pointed out as the innkeeper smiled.
At that, the alcalde glanced around trying to hide his embarrassment, and took a step forward. "Zorro, I arrest you in the name of the king," he said.
"Do you?" The outlaw questioned mockingly, then became serious. "The farmers only owe taxes for their land, but you demanded that they pay also a quota from their earnings. That tax is illegal, and you know it! And, since you forced them to pay said quota last year, you may now use that money as payment for the taxes the Spanish Crown is truly owed." He told the official in a severe tone of voice. "Arrest those men again, and I will make sure the Viceroy is informed about your abuses!"
"I was appointed here by the king. It is only –"
"You were appointed here by Joséph Bonaparte, and Spain was reclaimed by its true king in the meantime!" Zorro interrupted him to say. "Your days in Los Angeles are numbered as it is, De Soto. But it still remains to be seen where the countdown is heading." Zorro pointed out in a menacing tone. De Soto didn't dare utter another word, not even an order for his lancers to shoot. Seeing he was speechless, the masked man smiled, then cast his eyes on Victoria. "Señorita, you look lovelier than ever!" he said before saluting and making his escape.
Victoria followed him with her glance, a dumb look on her face, until Gilberto, who had arrived in Los Angeles just in time to hear the masked man compliment the innkeeper, headed towards her.
"What was that? That outlaw is courting you?" he demanded to know.
"Courting me?" she asked, pretending not to understand him.
"I'm not a fool, Señorita! I saw the way you two look at each other, like… lovesick puppies. It's disgraceful!"
"I don't look at him like a lovesick puppy!" she contradicted him. "Besides, it's none of your business, anyway, Gilberto Risendo! How many times do I have to tell you that I want nothing to do with you?" Saying that, she forced him to release her, and headed inside the tavern, fuming.
ZZZ
"Took you a little longer than you said it would!" Emmanuel pointed out as Zorro dismounted in the cave. "Isn't the count always on time?"
"The count, yes. Zorro, unfortunately, cannot always predict how long a fight with the alcalde's men might last." He answered as he hurriedly took off his shirt, hurriedly washed himself with some cold water, then spent no more than a minute changing his clothes and re-applying his beard and wig to transform back into the count. Once that was done, he headed upstairs.
At one o'clock sharp, the count exited the library and headed for the setup table. Don Alejandro stood next to it, waiting for him. "I apologize to have kept you waiting," he said to the don.
"No apologies needed, Your Excellency," the older man replied, glancing a little dumbfounded at his watch before each of them headed for a different end of the table, and sat down. "In fact, I was just admiring these foods, most of which I don't believe I have ever seen or tasted before."
"I developed a taste for the foods of the Orient during my travels," the young man replied as one of the servants started serving them. Once he was done, he poured some wine for Don Alejandro and a glass of lemonade for his master, then left.
"You don't drink wine, Your Excellency?" Don Alejandro wondered.
"I do, on occasion. But I always found it unwise to drink after a tiresome, long voyage or before five in the afternoon," he answered.
"My son never drank any… He had a rather low tolerance for it, and found it more prudent not to drink." The elderly man said.
"I do find not drinking better than drinking too much. Men lose control of themselves after too many glasses of wine."
"That is quite true."
"What happened to your son, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I don't know, Your Excellency." The don answered. "All I know is that he went missing in 1808 and died a year ago. Not much else… Not yet, at least… "
"I am sorry you had to go through all that. Was he the only child you ever had, Don Alejandro?" the count asked next.
"Yes. My only son. The best son a father could have wished for. I loved the boy more than I loved anyone in this world, even his mother, God bless her soul!"
"And when he went missing, didn't you try to find him?"
"Of course, I tried. But it took me a while to realize he had gone missing… Some of his letters arrived late. My son disappeared in 1808 yet I continued receiving letters from him for a while longer. They had been delayed by the events in Europe and some written in 1808 only reached me in 1810. Only in the Autumn of 1810, when, soon after Diego's last letter, I also received a more recent letter from a friend of his, asking if Diego had been found, I started to suspect something was wrong. I, thus, started writing to everyone I knew in Spain, asking about my son. It's how I found out he had gone missing in late May of 1808, while visiting his grandfather, God rest his soul! News of his death reached me only a year later when a servant replied to my letter to him."
"And you never considered searching for him?"
"Of course, I did! I even bought a passage for Spain. But, then, the tragedy happened with my good friends, the Escalantes. Victoria, their daughter, who was my son's fiancée, was left on her own, and I… I had promised my son to take care of her. So I didn't dare break my promise. Instead, I hired private detectives to go search for Diego. None of them were successful in their efforts, though one of them did write back that a man fitting my son's description had been seen years earlier, during the first days of the French invasion, being escorted by two French military men to a barred wagon. He never was able to find any documents of an arrest, however, nor confirm it was my son who had been seen that day. For years I had hoped Diego was still alive somewhere…" Don Alejandro recounted, sadness clear in his voice.
The young man slightly smiled at him. It was a fleeting smile the don had no chance to even notice. "And you were right to hope, Father," he mused just for himself, doing his best not to say out loud what was in his heart.
"But what about you, Señor?" Don Alejandro asked after a while spent eating in silence. "I was given to understand you are unmarried and have lost both your parents a while back. Don't you have any other family?"
"I was an only child, and it has surely been too long since I last saw my parents. I do have uncles and cousins but them, too, I haven't seen in a while. To be honest, I was rather lonely for a very long time, though I never did get quite used to it."
"Me neither… After my wife died, at least I had Diego; and, after he left for his studies, I had a boy he had found orphaned and had brought home with him: Felipe. He was a deaf-mute, but had a very sharp mind and a good soul, that boy. A couple of years ago, I made the mistake of allowing him to leave with a woman claiming to be his mother. I have had no news of him since that day…"
"I am sorry to hear." the count uttered.
"I let him choose and he chose to leave with her… What does a 12-year-old boy know? By now I don't even believe she was telling the truth. Though, I also can't even begin to understand why she would have lied. Why would anyone claim a deaf and mute boy?
"A little over a year and a half ago, after noticing a new poster on the garrison wall, I even hoped to find Felipe again. The woman in it – accused of being a bank robber, if I remember correctly – bore a remarkable resemblance to the one who had claimed him. I was injured at the time, having fallen off a horse, but, for once in his lifetime, the former alcalde, Luis Ramone, decided to be useful and headed to San Diego himself to ask about the boy. Unfortunately, no one had seen him, and the woman, together with an accomplice of hers, had been already executed. He couldn't even ascertain if it was her the one who took the boy. I pray every night for his safety like I spent years praying for my son's but… Frankly, I am not sure how long I can keep my faith, especially after finding out my son has been dead for over a year now. I don't even have a grave to pray at…" Saying that, Don Alejandro glanced at his interlocutor, a curious look in his eyes. "Strange how I feel so compelled to confide in you, Senor. Though we have just met, there is something about you… I feel… When I look at you, I feel like I've known you for a very long time…" he uttered.
"Perhaps I remind you of someone you once used to know…" The count said, looking kindly at the man who was his father, and again had to fight an impulse to tell him everything. "You know…" he uttered, "not so long ago, I met a man who had gone through much pain in his life. Without any fault of his own, he had been deprived of his freedom for many years. By the time he regained it and returned home, news of his death had caused his loved ones to give up all hope of ever seeing him again. Yet, he did return. Perhaps it will be the same with your son. Who knows?"
Don Alejandro glanced carefully at him, then nodded with a smile. "From your lips to Gods ears, Your Excellency! Truth is, I can only gather the strength to get out of bed each morning because, deep inside, I still hope against reason that I might still see Diego… and Felipe one day. That they might yet find their way home…"
The young man could feel exactly what was going through his father's mind, for those same dark thoughts had plagued him for years while in the Chateau D'If. He very well remembered the fear that he might never see the people he loved most in his life; that he might never get to embrace them; that they had parted forever. In the case of his grandfather, that fear had even come true, for the old man had been long gone by the time Diego managed to escape.
"Keep your faith, Don Alejandro, and, perhaps, one of these days, your lost boys might just return home," the Count said.
The don looked at him with a renewed light in his eyes. "They're hardly boys anymore…" he said, very much appreciating the encouragement. "I guess there's nothing wrong with keeping my faith, is there?" He eventually decided.
"No. On the contrary." The count replied. "By the way," he continued, "while inquiring about Los Angeles, I was informed that the former alcalde had passed a rather strange law a while before his demise… I believe it mentioned that should one die without leaving an heir, and no one would claim his estate within a week, said person's fortune would return to the Crown."
"Ah… That does sound like one of his laws, though I can't say I am aware of it…" Don Alejandro said pensively.
"My lawyer is well informed about such matters." The count assured him. "I believe the law was passed in January 1813, if memory serves, not long before Luis Ramone's death…"
"January 1813? That was when I had my fall from the horse… I can't say I was very well informed about the alcalde's deeds at the time… Except for his trip to San Diego to inquire about Felipe… Oh… And the one to the Devil's Fortress he left on just a few days after returning from San Diego…"
The count just smiled, but added nothing else on the subject, allowing the elderly man to draw his own conclusions.
