by Jo Worthington
The sala was quiet. Only the ticking of the large clock broke the silence. Diego put his finger on his black knight and began to slide it in its “L” shaped move.
“Ah-ah, Diego. You are not concentrating.” Don Alejandro would, for once, like to win a game but there would be no taste of victory if his son were simply trying to get out of playing. “Do you not see how you put yourself in jeopardy with that move? You are risking the knight to save a pawn. If you keep making moves like that you will not have a leg to stand on.”
His cigar crackled softly as Diego inhaled. Withdrawing it and exhaling gently, Diego looked up at his father. He could not help the devious smile that spread across his face.
“Father, you should know by now about the harmonious cooperation of my little chessmen. Together they conjure up irresistible threats.”
Don Alejandro shook his head and leaned back in the chair.
“You are tired, Father. Shall we continue our game tomorrow? In fact, look at the time.”
The servant, Pepito, came into the room. So that he was sure to hear, Diego pronounced that he was going to his room. Diego liked to have witnesses for the time he went to bed at night. He never knew when it might be useful.
“Con permiso. We will continue tomorrow. Buenas noches, Father y buenas noches, Pepito.”
Diego was out the door of the sala before his father could respond. There was no time to lose as he bounded two stairs at a time up to his room.
Don Alejandro sighed deeply as he refreshed his glass of port. He walked around the table to where Diego had been sitting. He knew who his son was by night. He had known it for quite some time but dared not say anything. He would do anything for his only son. When Diego wanted to tell him or needed him he would be there. But until then, all he could do was pray for his son.
He looked down at the chessboard and thought to himself. “I think I know what this black knight’s next move will be. Vaya con Dios, my boy.”
“I will, of course, do exactly what you say, Magistrado. But as I have said it has been tried before and it did not work.”
“Never mind what has been tried before. This time, Sergeant, it will work. The guards are in place. You have seen to it. Zorro will come. He would not dare let this happen again to one of the peons.”
“Si, Magistrado. But when I was the bait he came and escaped even with many guards posted. He may see this as a trap and not come at all.”
“He will not take a chance. He will not assume that it is a trap and I tell you, Sergeant, he will come and he will be caught. I will hang him and I will hang the peon for all to see what happens when the people think they can defy me.” The Magistrado pounded his fist hard on the oak desk. “The people will find out what it means to defy me and to protect this outlaw.”
“Si, magistrado, an outlaw, no doubt. But not all the peons know who he is. In fact, all of them probably do not know who Zorro is. You cannot kill all of these people who do not know something. And the poor peon – he did nothing. He is only bait for the trap. You cannot …”
“Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do! Get out now and go to your post. Nothing will go wrong tonight, Sergeant. Do you hear me, nothing!”
There were things in Sergeant Garcia’s life with the king’s army of which he was not proud. But at no time had anything felt so wrong to him. Yes, the outlaw, Zorro was supposed to be his enemy but he did not feel like an enemy to the Sergeant. In fact, he was more like a friend. Sergeant Garcia had never felt so proud as when he fought shoulder to shoulder with Zorro at the tannery. True, he had had to sew up several pair of trousers after they were carved with a Z. True, Zorro had outsmarted, out-ridden, out-dueled him many times. But just as surely as he had done these things, he had also been a friend to the Sergeant. No, it did not feel right what was supposed to happen tonight.
Every soldier in the cuartel was on duty. No one was to be sleeping. No one was to be given leave. The Magistrado did not need to remind each soldier of the reward of 2,000 pesos but he did many times. Such a sum as 2,000 pesos for the capture of Zorro was enough to put every soldier eagerly on guard. The trap was set. There was no way even a cat could get out of the cuartel once it had gotten in.
Diego wished it were true that he would be going to sleep at this moment. He was getting very tired. This new Magistrado was ruthless and determined that Zorro should be caught. Never since the beginning of Zorro’s night rides had he encountered anyone as truly evil as this man. Diego had personally seen him beat an old man for getting in the way of his horse. He knew of two men who were accused of thievery. They were people of faith who had been honest and kind to him since Diego was a small boy. In his heart Diego knew these were decent citizens. On the basis of the Magistrado’s accusation and with very little proof of guilt they were put to death. This was done quickly, before Zorro could do anything to save them. The people’s trust in him was being put to the test.
This was part of the Magistrado’s planned reign of terror. Strike fear and doubt into the hearts of the peons. Let them know that no one is safe, young or old. Let them know that Zorro cannot always help them. And by doing this, get a clear message to Zorro. No one in the pueblo would be safe as long as Zorro was not captured. But the people also knew that if Zorro were captured there would be no hope at all for rescue from this evil man in their pueblo. Either way, they felt doomed.
