"Son of Mystery"
The next morning, after Diego had ridden to the pueblo, Bernardo saddled his horse and rode to the area where the false Zorro had disappeared. He rode for hours, looking in all the likely hiding places and found nothing but the tracks of the lancer patrols. He thought about some of the places that his Zorro had hidden when being chased in the past by the soldiers, and rode through them as well, but still saw nothing to indicate where the imposter might be. It was as though the imposter had vanished, if he ever existed in the first place, which Bernardo was beginning to doubt. But sadly, he knew the man did exist because he had been seen by too many people in the pueblo and had also shot the lancer. He agreed with Diego that they must find this man and have him captured as soon as possible before he did any more damage to the real Zorro’s reputation or before he actually killed someone. Sighing to himself, he turned his horse around and covered the ground again, looking for any clues he might have missed, but still turned up nothing. By the time he returned to the hacienda, both he and his horse were very tired.
Don Alejandro was out in the stables himself, having just returned from checking on the cattle herd on the eastern range when he saw Bernardo riding in. He noticed that both Bernardo and his horse were covered in dust as though they had been riding hard. He had never had much luck in communicating with the mute servant, but he was curious about Bernardo’s condition. As Bernardo stepped down from the saddle and prepared to lead his horse into the stall, Don Alejandro stopped him. Speaking loudly, as though that made some difference, he motioned with his hands as he spoke. "Bernardo! Where have you been? What have you been doing?"
Bernardo just looked at him curiously. Exasperated, Don Alejandro tried to remember how Diego made himself understood. Waving his arms with more exaggeration, he said loudly, "Where have you been?" Bernardo continued to look at him and seemed to be concentrating. Then he smiled and nodded. Pointing to himself and then pointing in several directions away from the hacienda, Bernardo launched into a series of signs, none of which made any sense to Don Alejandro.
Don Alejandro watched for a few moments and then said, "I don’t understand you. What are you saying?" This urged Bernardo to new efforts which were still incomprehensible. Don Alejandro turned to Raul, the vaquero who took care of the horses, and said, "Do you understand anything he is saying?" Bernardo stopped what he was doing and looked curiously at both men.
"No, Patron," said Raul. "I do not understand any of it."
Growling, Don Alejandro said, "It is beyond me how Diego communicates with the man. Just forget it. I probably wouldn’t like what he would have told me anyway." Giving Bernardo one last stare, Don Alejandro turned and went into the house, grumbling to himself under his breath.
Bernardo watched him go, sighing in relief. Of course he knew what Don Alejandro wanted, but he could not reveal what he had been doing. He did not like deceiving the elder de la Vega, but it was necessary in order to keep his young master’s secrets. His first loyalty was to Diego. Wiping his brow with his hand, he turned back to the care of his horse.
Don Alejandro entered the house and went up to his room to change for the evening. Old Juan had laid out his clothing and had poured a basin of water for him to use to clean up. As he changed, Don Alejandro thought about his life now and how dissatisfied he was. Here he was with the largest and finest rancho in all California and he could not even communicate with one of the servants. This was only the latest in a long list of things which bothered Don Alejandro. The death of his wife had been hard to accept, but he had come to terms with God on that a long time ago. He still missed Isabella deeply and his heart was saddened each time something reminded him of her, but he could at least understand that. It was his son and everything which surrounded him that caused him so much dissatisfaction now. Diego was the son of his loins, a de la Vega from a long line of de la Vegas. He seemed to take little interest in the things that made a man want to stand tall and proud among his peers. And Don Alejandro could not understand that at all. He felt a pain in his heart to think that his son, a de la Vega, was unwilling to defend himself physically, preferring words over actions. He was distressed that his son, a de la Vega, had little interest in the land or the cattle that meant so much to Don Alejandro. Diego seemed to have dismissed the toils and the blood spilled by his forebears to take and hold this land against those who would take it from them, concentrating instead on insubstantial things like poetry and music. Things which you could not hold in your hands. Things which you could not build upon to leave something of substance to your heirs. Don Alejandro shook his head.
Lately his son’s interests had been claimed by the position the Magistrado had offered to him. In the beginning, Don Alejandro tried to imagine he was happy his son had turned to something productive, but now he realized that he was just as dissatisfied as he had been since Diego’s return from Spain. He visualized the rancho from the vantage point of the hill overlooking the hacienda. This was what he had worked for so long to achieve. Something of worth to hand down to his son and his son’s sons. And what he wanted was a son who would take what Don Alejandro had achieved and build upon it himself. That was what his heart desired. Without that, all of this meant nothing.
Don Alejandro adjusted the banda around his waist and pulled on his jacket. He was going down to have a meal, which more than likely he would have to eat alone. Diego spent more time in the pueblo or away from home now than before he signed on with the Magistrado. Don Alejandro clenched his teeth. He was almost jealous of the Magistrado for taking Diego away from him. He paused. Yes, he was unhappy with Diego. He had to endure being shut out of Diego’s life more and more as time went on, but still . . . . Still, he loved his son and wanted to be a part of his life. As broken hearted as he was over his disappointment in Diego, Diego was still his son and he loved him very much.
Running the back of his hand over his eyes to wipe away the mist that seemed to cover them, Don Alejandro pulled his shoulders back and went down to his supper. Brooding over Diego would not change anything. He would just go down, eat his meal and read a book in the sala until it was time to go to bed.
Don Alejandro did just that. But, as he sat before the fireplace trying to read his book, he found himself staring into the flames, seeing Isabella in his mind’s eye, sitting on the floor by this very fireplace, playing with their one year old son, Diego. He remembered taking Diego with him to Monterey when the boy was only ten years old and how Isabella had worried about such a long trip. He remembered holding Diego only a year later and rocking him to sleep for many nights after they laid Isabella to rest up there on the hill, both of them needing the comfort that such closeness brought. He remembered how Diego had followed him around the rancho, taking great interest in everything his father was doing and how flattered he had been when he saw Diego trying to imitate him. There had been nothing in Diego’s life before he went to Spain which had indicated he would change into the kind of man he was now.
Spain.
What was there about that voyage to Spain which had wrought such a change in his son? Don Alejandro shook his head. He had asked himself that question many, many times. He knew the university at Madrid, he had attended it himself. That Diego could go there and fail to achieve the things they had talked about before he left, was beyond Don Alejandro’s comprehension. Whenever he had tried to talk to Diego about it, he was given vague and unenlightening answers. "Father, that is my life," he would say about his poetry and music. "Just as yours is raising horses and breeding cattle." And the sad thing was that Don Alejandro could not find it within himself to disagree to the point of doing anything about it. Yes, he voiced his displeasure, but he loved Diego enough to let him have his freedom to do as he chose even though he did not like it. The face of his wife flashed before him again and he knew what she would say. "Let him make his way in the world like he wants to do, Alejandro," she would say. "He is not you. He has his own ways. One day you will be proud of him for who he is, not who you want him to be."
Don Alejandro shifted uneasily in his chair. "I just want him to be a de la Vega", he said to himself under his breath. "I want him to be a man." He sensed this would not have swayed his wife’s views, but there it was, nevertheless. But as he remembered his wife and her love for him, he knew he would let Diego continue to do as he wished for her sake. Closing his book, he decided that he would give up any pretense of reading and go on up to bed. Looking at his watch, he wondered if Diego would be coming home soon.
As if in answer to his thoughts, Diego came in the door.
"Good evening, Father," said Diego with a smile.
As he was feeling rather disgruntled, Don Alejandro said, "You have arrived too late for supper, Diego. Everything has been put away."
Diego did as he always did and swallowed the hurt his father’s remarks caused him. "I am sorry, Father," he said. "I ate supper in the pueblo with the Magistrado. He had many things to discuss with me."
"None of which you are allowed to tell me," muttered Don Alejandro into his beard.
"Your pardon, Father? I did not hear you," said Diego, even though he could guess at the tenor of the remarks.
Don Alejandro waved a hand at Diego and said, "Nothing. It was nothing." He looked up at Diego. "Did you hear any more about Zorro? Have they found him?"
"No, Father. There was no more news of Zorro. The patrols returned empty handed, but they will be going back out again tomorrow." Diego was anxious to find Bernardo and hear what he had to say about his search of the hills. Hopefully, the servant had better news.
"They will not find him," stated Don Alejandro. "They never find him when he does not want to be found. Did anyone discover why he was so near the pueblo?"
"They know nothing more than they did before," said Diego. "There are merely the wild rumors flying around that serve only to frighten the people."
"Zorro’s army?" asked Don Alejandro.
Clenching his jaws, Diego hesitated a moment before trusted himself to speak. "I do not believe those rumors, Father. Nor should you," he said with rather more force than he intended. He had heard that rumor more times than he could count in the last two days and he was sickened by it.
Don Alejandro looked more closely at his son. Why this strong reaction about Zorro? Diego had been mildly interested in the bandit from time to time, but nothing like this. He was going to pursue this further when Diego interrupted him.
"Father, If you will excuse me, I have to go and find Bernardo. I have an assignment in Santa Barbara and I must leave very early tomorrow. Con permisso?" Diego did not wait for his father’s answer as he turned and headed toward the stairs. He felt he had to leave when he did because he did not wish to discuss Zorro with his father. There was nothing he could offer on the topic except to say that he knew with certainty the man in question was not the real Zorro. And if he should be pressed to say how he knew this, was he going to admit to his father that he was the real Zorro? He was still not ready to do this. He was determined that he would be the one to expose the imposter. He would do it as Diego de la Vega and not as Zorro. If he assumed the guise of Zorro once more, it would weaken all the arguments he had presented to Bernardo as to why Zorro was no longer necessary. He would not resurrect Zorro as long as he could work to protect the people through his position in the Magistrado’s office. No, he wanted to keep Zorro out of this if he could. His father would just have to wait and see what would develop like everyone else. He was brought up short by his father’s voice from behind his back.
With a sharpness which cut through Diego, Don Alejandro said, "May I remind you, my son, though you should not have forgotten, the anniversary of your mother’s passing is tomorrow?" Anger colored his words as he continued, "Would you not honor her memory with flowers to be placed on her grave and prayers, as is our custom?"
Diego turned to face his father. "Father, believe me when I say I am sorry I have to go away at this time. But the Magistrado has assigned me to go to Santa Barbara and I will not be here. Perhaps when I return then we . . . ."
He was interrupted. "What is so important that you cannot take the time to honor your mother’s memory?" demanded Don Alejandro.
"Father, you know I cannot tell you," said Diego. "We have been over this before. When I get back I will go to mother’s grave and observe our custom. I promise." Diego knew the importance of the memorial to his father, but he had sworn to uphold his duty as an officer of the King, and he had no choice but to obey the Magistrado's orders.
Don Alejandro was not satisfied. He glared at Diego a moment, but was so angry and disappointed he could not speak. Finally, he just snatched up his book and pretended to read it, totally ignoring Diego. He did not see the sadness on Diego’s face. The silence stretching between them, Diego turned at last and went upstairs to his room. Don Alejandro put his book down then and stared after his son, but there was still nothing more to say. His son had become like a stranger to him in his own house.
When Diego entered his room, he found Bernardo polishing a pair of his shoes. "Pack my saddlebag. Enough for me for a couple of days," he said sharply. At Bernardo’s questioning look, he said harshly, "Just do as I said." He immediately relented as he saw the hurt look on Bernardo’s face. "I’m sorry, Bernardo. I just had words with my father and I am still upset. Go on, start packing." Bernardo quietly pulled out the saddlebag and began folding the clothes that would go into it. He knew that as soon as he could regain control, Diego would tell him the rest. Diego tossed his portfolio onto the bed and stood looking down at the floor with one hand resting on the post of his bed and the other on his hip.
"Even when I am not Zorro, I cannot please my father," said Diego after a few moments. "The Magistrado has assigned me to go to Santa Barbara to work on an investigation for him and that will conflict with the memorial for my mother. I must leave before dawn to go to Santa Barbara, it is my duty as the Magistrado’s deputy, but Father does not wish to understand that. I think what bothers him the most is that he does not know why I am going to Santa Barbara. If it were a matter of life and death, he might excuse me, but since he does not know, he cannot believe it is more important than the memorial. And just when I was beginning to think we were coming to an understanding between us." Diego sighed. Bernardo looked at him with sympathy.
Diego took a deep breath, and setting aside his own problems for the moment, he asked, "Did you find anything?" He was disappointed as Bernardo shook his head no. "No tracks? No sign of anything?" Bernardo shook his head no again and held his hands face up. Diego sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace. "Bernardo, we must find this man." Bernardo made the sign of the ‘Z’ in the air and pointed to the secret room. Diego saw this and said, "No. Diego de la Vega must do this." Bernardo looked disappointed in his turn. Smiling sadly at his servant friend, Diego said, "You never give up, do you?" Bernardo shook his head no. He returned the sad smile. Slapping the arm of his chair as he stood up, Diego said, "I am a member of His Majesty’s government. Although I am young and though I have no great authority, I can still use my office to ask questions and ferret out this man without Zorro’s help. This will be a true test to see if this can work for me and I am not willing to give up yet." Bernardo indicated the Magistrado. "I do not want to involve him until I have something of substance to put before him. He has already formed his opinion of Zorro and had it confirmed by the imposter’s actions. I am not in a position, as yet, to change that opinion. But I will, Bernardo. I will."
He continued. "The Magistrado said he is being generous and allowing me to gain all the experience I can. That is why he is sending me out so often and now to Santa Barbara. But despite the problems this causes with my father, I think it is a good thing, Bernardo. This way I can meet more people and hear what they have to say about the false Zorro. Perhaps I will stumble across something that will lead us to him." Bernardo made some signs. "I know you do, my friend, but you must remain here. I want you to keep your ears open for any further news of the false Zorro in the pueblo, and you know that Tornado needs you."
Bernardo was not happy. He had never liked being separated from Diego before and now he felt the need to be with him even more. He still remembered the hair rising on the back of his neck when the Magistrado had questioned Diego the other day. Something was not what it seemed and he was afraid for his master. He decided he had to try and say something. Tapping Diego on the arm to gain his attention, he made several signs.
"The Magistrado? What about him?" said Diego. More signs. "You are worried about him? Why? Is he in danger?" No, no signaled Bernardo. He pointed to Diego. "You are worried about me? And the Magistrado?" Diego was thoroughly puzzled. "I do not know what you mean, Bernardo. Try again." Frustrated, Bernardo made some more signs. "The Magistrado is in danger, . . . oh, is dangerous. Dangerous to whom?" Bernardo pointed to Diego. "To me?" said Diego in surprise. "You are trying to tell me that Señor Santiago is a danger to me? That you are worried about me because of him?" Relieved, Bernardo nodded yes emphatically.
Diego looked at his mozo for a time. "You must be mistaken, Bernardo. What makes you think the Magistrado is a danger to me?" This was the part that Bernardo was most concerned about. But he would do his best to express his fears. He began to sign again. "You did not like the questions the Magistrado asked after my return from Buena Ventura?" Diego thought a moment, then said, "I wondered about them also. He seemed overly concerned about my delay in returning to the pueblo. But I think he was just upset by the lancer being shot by that imposter. He spoke no more about it after that." Bernardo made more signs. "I don’t understand. He had listeners?" Bernardo nodded. He made the signs for Sergeant Garcia, Doctor Avila, and the peons. "You don’t mean to imply that the Magistrado was asking those questions so those people would hear them?" Yes, nodded Bernardo. "But why, Bernardo? Why would he do such a thing?" Of course, Bernardo had no answer to that. He could only shrug his shoulders.
Diego paced over to the door and back again. He knew what Bernardo was talking about, but it just did not seem to fit with what he knew of the Magistrado. After all, he had worked closely with the man for several months and had found no hint of anything that was amiss. Bernardo did not have this experience because he had not been around the Magistrado very much. As far as Diego could tell, the Magistrado was the very same kind of man that Diego was at heart. A man of justice tempered with kindness. They had worked smoothly together and had cleared many cases from the books with everyone being mostly satisfied. He heard nothing but praise from those who had any dealings with the Magistrado and his dispensing of the law. You could not please everyone, of course, but the Magistrado had come as close as any man had in all the years the pueblo had been in existence. Everyone said so. Everyone but Bernardo, it would seem.
Turning to his servant, he said, "I just don’t see what you are implying. It is just not like Señor Santiago. I do not think he means me harm in any way. You are just being too cautious because of the danger posed by the imposter. He is the one we have to watch out for. Let us concentrate on capturing him and exposing him for what he is. All right?"
Bernardo was not convinced, but he nodded his head reluctantly. He would follow his young master’s lead for now, but he would keep his eyes and ears open.
"Good," said Diego. "Now finish packing my clothing while I go down and speak to Tornado. I may take him for a ride down the canyon before I return. A long ride in the night air will do us both good. You do not have to wait up for me, so I wish you pleasant dreams. Remember, I will be leaving for Santa Barbara early in the morning."
