“I will send invitations to each of the dons to be here at six o’clock. Once I have welcomed them, I would like to give you the opportunity to speak to them; to present your ideas for solving our problems with the Commandanté and his tyrannical rule here. And also to find a way to have those gentlewomen released from their prison cell so that they might be able to return to their home. Can you be ready?” Don Alejandro looked at Diego with expectation.
Diego leaned forward and said, “Yes, Father. I will be ready. Thank you for your confidence in me to let me speak to our friends and neighbors. It means a great deal to me.”
“And to me, my son,” said Don Alejandro. “I know you will make me proud of you. And now, I will go to the library and write out the invitations to be delivered to those very friends and neighbors.” He drank the last of his wine and walked into the house.
Diego’s eyes followed his father. Here was the opportunity he had hoped to find for so long. A chance to appeal to the other landholders and show them that they should stand united against Monastario. So far, only Don Nacho and Don Alejandro had dared to voice their opinions against the actions of the Commandanté, and Don Nacho was now a fugitive and his family was in jail.
Don Alejandro was free only because Monastario had not found a way to pin anything on him. Diego knew of the women’s deprivation in the jail, but he also knew what they were made of and that they did not consider the sacrifice too great if it gave Don Nacho a chance to reach the governor. The best way to get them out was to present a united front against Monastario using the law against him. He would have to carefully craft what he would say to the dons. The Fox would use words, not a sword this afternoon. And, it was a chance to show his father that he was more than he seemed.
Bernardo observed Diego as he watched his father walk away. Only he saw the hopeful longing in his young master’s eyes, the longing to gain the respect of his father. Only he, besides this young man beside him, knew of the sacrifice being made to protect Don Alejandro and to try and foil the plots and plans of Monastario’s tyranny. He knew the reasons behind Diego’s decision not to tell Don Alejandro about Zorro and he agreed with them, but it did not make things any easier. Bernardo prayed that this evening’s meeting would be the beginning of the end for Monastario and that Diego could indeed regain the respect of his father and soon be able to lay aside the need for Zorro, letting him fade into the night. Then he would not be haunted by the longing he saw in the eyes of his friend.
************
By six o’clock all of the dons had arrived with the exception of Don Miguel . The Indian servant, Jose, showed them to their seats, pouring wine for those who desired it. Don Alejandro and Diego greeted them warmly including Don Mariano Gregario who was almost as deaf as Bernardo pretended to be.
Diego could see the deference with which these men treated his father and the restrained politeness with which they greeted him. He was aware that he was an enigma to these men. Some of them had known him as a boy growing up, and there were some with whom he had only a nodding acquaintance. He was Don Alejandro’s son, but to these men he was still an untried youth, grown soft with his years in Spain. He would have to prove himself to them before they would be persuaded.
Don Alejandro began the meeting by recounting his visit to the Torres women in the jail. He spoke of Monastario’s abuse of his power since he had taken over as Commandanté. He told what he knew of Don Nacho Torres’ arrest and escape, aided by the outlaw known as Zorro. But he also told the dons that they could not depend upon one man, an outlaw, to do what they themselves should be doing. He told of how he and Diego had spoken many times concerning what to do and that he wanted the dons to hear what Diego had to say.
“And so, Señores, I give you my son, who has some ideas of his own about how we should handle this situation,” he said gesturing to Diego.
Diego mentally took a deep breath. This was it. This was his chance to start something that could lead to a united front against Monastario and ultimately cause his removal from office. He sensed that the dons were ready to hear what he had to say. They were willing to give him his chance. He walked down in front of the large table in the midst of the men and began.
“Señores, I thank you for letting me speak to you. We have come to an important time in our pueblo. The man to whom we look to uphold the law has taken the law and twisted it to serve his own purposes. He began with little things, things that affected mostly the peons and vaqueros. But as his ambition has grown, so has his greed. You know that he has raised tax collection to a fine art. Those who cannot pay are jailed or sold as indentured servants. He adds many new rules, so much so that many are caught violating them without knowing what these new rules are. He then collects fines or jails those who cannot pay.”
Diego paused to assess the effects of his words. He saw polite interest. He must bring it closer to home for them. “Our haciendas are spread far and wide across this great land of ours. We, as the great landowners are almost autonomous; we have to be. At first, upon my return from Spain, I felt as you do. As long as the actions of the Commandanté did not affect me, my father, or the rancho, what business was it of mine? But I ask you, how long before Monastario’s ambition and greed lead to greater and greater excess? How long before he gains the courage needed to test himself against those of you assembled here. How long before all are oppressed? Then it will be too late to try and stop him. Don Nacho tried to speak out against Monastario’s tyranny. You know Don Nacho’s story. My father sees Capitán Monastario for the danger he is. Don Nacho and my Father are only two men; two men trying to make a difference.”
Diego watched the eyes of the dons seated all around him in the sala as he spoke. They were giving him their undivided attention. Don Mariano sat with his hand cupped around his ear, listening intently. He saw some of them nodding at his remarks. That they were indeed listening to him gave him encouragement. He began now the most impassioned part of his speech. Walking down the length of the table, looking each of the Dons in the eyes, he said, “You who are gathered here are among the great landholders of the area. I suggest that you go forth, talk to the other landholders. Get them to stand and join together.”
He walked to the end of the table and leaned forward in earnest. “United, you can ask for the dismissal of Monastario, and the Governor, the Viceroy, even the King will listen!” he said.
Before he could continue, a loud knock came at the door. Everyone looked to see whom it was. Jose opened the door to let Don Miguel enter pushing a lancer in front of him. Actually, he had to keep a strong hold upon him to keep the lancer from stumbling over his feet. The lancer was quite drunk.
“My apologies for being late, Señores, but there is something you ought to hear,” he said as he pushed the lancer in front of the table to stand next to Diego. He reeked of wine. Diego also lent a hand to keep the man upright. Don Alejandro came to stand at Diego’s shoulder. The rest of the dons crowded around the table. In a commanding voice, Don Miguel said to the soldier, “Tell them what you told me...”
The lancer was very unsteady on his feet, but he began to speak. “This Licenciado Piña, the lawyer fellow, . . . he told the women that the Commandanté had captured Señor Torres and was holding him prisoner.” The dons turned to look at one another upon hearing this. “He told them that the Captain would give Señor Torres fifty lashes . . . (here he swayed mightily) fifty lashes, if they complained of their treatment.”
Looking particularly happy with himself, he gestured to Don Alejandro, directing his next statements to him. “That is why they told you that the Commandanté is giving them the proper care.” He snickered to himself.
Don Alejandro was the first to remark. “I could not believe it even as I heard it,” he said with a spark of fire in his voice. Diego felt the first sensation of alarm growing in the pit of his stomach. His father continued, gesturing to the lancer, “Jose, take him to the stables. Let him sleep it off.”
The soldier was herded out of the door but not before he snatched up one of the glasses of wine to take with him.
Don Miguel addressed the Dons, emotion coloring his voice. “Those poor, gentle souls. They have neither proper food nor proper care. They are treated worse than dogs in the streets!” he declared.
Diego turned away from the men, trying to remain calm himself. The lancer’s inflammatory remarks were working on the dons. He felt the frustrations of his limitations as Diego. He had only Diego’s words with which to try and calm the situation. Words that he must make them hear. He turned as his father took the floor ahead of him.
Hands clasped behind his back, Don Alejandro was the picture of noble blood grown hot. He now addressed the dons. “May I propound a question for the Señores?,” he said. “You know now what is happening to Señora and Señorita Torres. Two proud and gentle Spanish women who have been our friends and neighbors. What do we propose to do about it?”
“What would Don Alejandro suggest?” asked Don Greco.
With Diego crying “No, Father!” in his silence, Don Alejandro leaned forward, placing his hands on the table as he said with vehemence, “I suggest the only decent and honorable thing we can do. Let us go forth and demand the release of those two gentle women here and now!” He pounded the table. “Let us back the demand with force if necessary!”
Diego’s blood was rushing. This was the very thing that he had feared from the beginning. This was why he became Zorro in the first place. To keep his father from doing what he now proposed to do. He had to speak.
Catching his father’s arm to gain his attention, he demanded, “One moment, Father! You speak of force. Well, what force do you have against the bulwark of the cuartel and the soldiers manning it?”
Don Alejandro stepped up to confront Diego, closing even the small distance between them. “When the gauntlet is flung into your face, you do not stop to appraise your weapons!” he declared, his pride allowing him no other answer.
Diego turned to appeal to the other men. “You will be marching to your deaths!” he exclaimed.
From behind his back, Don Alejandro said with a voice full of scorn, “Sometimes it is better to die like a man than to live like a coward.” If he had plunged a knife into Diego’s back, it would not have hurt him any worse. He spun around to look at his father and their eyes locked. The words he might have said died on his lips. He had crafted this Diego that his father thought he knew; this could not be the time to change that.
Clenching his jaws, he retreated from his father’s eyes by turning away again. He maintained an outwardly calm facade, but his emotions betrayed themselves as a shifting from foot to foot. Don Alejandro only spared a further brief look at his son’s back before turning his attention to the other dons.
Don Miguel thought it was time to refocus the discussion. The problems between Don Alejandro and his son could wait. He said, “Now listen to me. I agree with Don Alejandro. The time has come for action. The time for talk is past. But, I also agree with Don Diego.” Diego turned to look at Don Miguel. “Of what use is it to go down and chop at the gates of the cuartel with our sword? To march like lambs to the slaughter? Let us formulate a plan. Let us use wisdom as well as courage.”
The other dons were listening in rapt attention. This was more to their liking. Diego could only stand and watch.
Corporal Sanchez, dressed as a peon, had slipped into the patio and quietly made his way to the window of the sala and listened intently. He had been very careful to remain unseen. He heard the next remark by Don Greco through the open window and was relieved. He had not come too late.
Don Greco said, “It is not so easy to get within the gates of the cuartel now that the Commandanté has closed them.”
“Nor is it so difficult,” replied Don Alejandro with confidence. “I was admitted just today.”
“Si. Si. Now this is the beginning of a plan,” said Don Miguel with satisfaction.
Corporal Sanchez ventured to peer into the room through the window, trying to see who was there. He not only needed to know the plans, he needed names. He had to pull back quickly before he was spotted. He glanced around the patio to make sure no one had noticed him and then went back to listening.
“Maybe they will open the gates once more for Don Alejandro,” said Don Greco.
Don Alejandro in his enthusiasm said, “And then when the gates are open, the rest of you could rush in!”
Don Miguel was almost as enthusiastic. “Si. Si. We have to be most careful so that the guard does not suspect our purpose ahead of time.” he said leaning forward. “Now, as soon as it is dark, we will ride to the plaza, each by a separate route, arrive at different times. Do not look as if anything is planned.”
“We can be strolling toward the Inn or waiting in our carriages,” offered Don Greco.
Don Alejandro was satisfied. He looked at each of his friends and said, “You understand the plan?” Heads nodded all around the room with one exception that he chose to ignore. “Then it is agreed.” Everyone started toward the door.
Corporal Sanchez dared not remain longer. He quickly stole away. Soon he was on his way to the cuartel to make his report to Capitán Monastario.
Diego had observed the plan making, staying well in the background after his near confrontation with his father. He looked from one man to another, a look of silent desperation on his face. But he could not let these men go without one more plea to their common sense. He must try once more to make them see the folly of what they were doing. So he made his way past his father up the steps to stand before the dons once more, crying, “Wait, Señores!”
They crowded together as they stopped to hear him. His own kind of passion gripping him, he pleaded with them. “Allow me a few words of reason!” Holding his hands out to them in supplication he said, “Just one minute of your time is all I ask. Please, Señores, I beg of you. Reconsider this rash action. You are guided by passion, not logic.” Pointing in the direction of the pueblo he said, “If you rush the cuartel in this manner, you will be annihilated. Branded insurgents, enemies of the King! Why, the Commandanté may even be commended for his victory.”
As Diego looked into the eyes of the assembled dons, he could sense no openings in the wall of silence he faced. With everything he had, he said, “So I ask you gentlemen, please. Have patience. Why ride to your death when you can live and work for freedom!” Still trying to appeal to their reason, he continued, “I know. . . . patience now is a bitter thing. But it will bear a sweet fruit!”
Don Miguel respected the son of Don Alejandro, but he was not to be persuaded. So he answered Diego by saying, “There may be a day to talk of patience, and logic, and of fruit that is sweet.” He looked to the other dons. “But my thoughts remain with those two poor, gentle women in that foul jail.” He turned back. “No, Diego. My heart is too full to hold anything else.”
Before Diego could respond, Don Greco said, “I could not sleep in my bed tonight and think of those poor souls denied even a blanket between them.” There were nods of agreement all around.
Don Alejandro took charge then and said, “We have wasted enough time. We must start now to put our plan into action.” The men began to move towards the door once more, and Diego had to give way.
“Excuse me, Diego,” was all his father had to say as he gave the young man a stern look as he passed. The dons streamed out of the door, followed by Don Alejandro who saw them to the gate of the patio. All of them were heady with the chance to take action on behalf of the Torres women. Their sense of honor had been offended concerning these women, and they would not rest until honor was satisfied, and the women were freed. They were too proud to turn back now.
*********
Capitán Monastario, seated behind his desk, listened with rapt attention to Corporal Sanchez’s report. The small man had come directly to the Commandanté’s office, still wearing his disguise. Licenciado Piña, stark as always in his black suit, was also listening closely.
“I was standing at the window and I heard them plotting it all, mi Capitán,” the Corporal was saying. “I heard every word of it.”
“Stupid fool,” said Monastario. Leaning forward, he said, “Why did you not remain there? To be sure you had the names of all who attended?”
Licenciado spoke to the Corporal also. “There were two men you did not recognize?”
“I dared not expose myself,” said the Corporal to explain.
Monastario stood thoughtfully. He had what he needed. He could find out the names of the traitors later. “Ah, very well. It is of no consequence,” he said with a clinched fist. “I will have a trap all set for them when they arrive.” He strode around the desk and over to the door of his office, opening it.
Calling, “Sergeant Garcia!” he startled the man whom had been lounging on the wall enclosing the porch.
Jumping to attention and saluting, the Sergeant said, “Yes, Capitán!”
In his most commanding voice, Monastario said, “Sound the alarm! Prepare for a surprise attack on the cuartel.” He started to return to his desk.
“Capitán?” came that questioning voice. Almost rolling his eyes, Monastario turned to look at the Sergeant standing in the doorway looking confused as usual. “Would it be out of order to ask who is going to attack us?” he asked.
Monastario was irritated. He said loudly, “What difference does it make? Do as you are told!” Sergeant Garcia could not salute and exit the room fast enough. Monastario shook his head in exasperation and walked back to his desk. He was reminded of his plan when he saw the lawyer and the Corporal still standing there.
Opening his desk drawer, he took out a pistol as the alarm bell sounded and began to smile.
