Chapter Three
Los Angeles, Alta California
Señor Carlos Galindo, the Magistrado for Los Angeles, was feeling fine today. He had finally figured out a way to acquire the money that the Eagle was demanding. The idea came from the younger de la Vega. The Magistrado had attended a party given for Rosarita Cortez by her uncle. At that party, he had made several comments about having to deal with all classes of people in his job, but that he preferred to keep his social life more restricted. This led de la Vega to point out Franco Barbarosa, a ranchero, who had gone from nothing to selling almost as many hides as had the elder de la Vega this last year. Diego had pointed out that Barbarosa had started out with just a mud hut on the king’s land.
This had given the Magistrado a way to extract money from Barbarosa and others like him who were using the king’s land to get rich. He only had to tell them that the laws had changed and that they owed the king part of what they had earned in order to repay the debt they owed. If they wanted to stay out of jail they would pay. He was expecting Capitán Ortega’s men to bring in Barbarosa any moment now. Ortega had arrived only yesterday to take up his “post” as new commandanté of Los Angeles. Never mind that he was not the real Ortega, but a man of the Eagle’s. He was here to help the Magistrado carry out the Eagle’s orders to cause unrest among the people and to collect money for the Eagle’s coffers.
Barbarosa was brought in and told that he must pay five thousand pesos for living on the king’s land. He refused. The Magistrado was disappointed, but decided he could use this to his advantage. He would make an example of Barbarosa and sentence him to six months of hard labor. This should make the other rancheros much more willing to pay when their turn came. He dismissed the soldiers with orders to tell Capitán Ortega to have Barbarosa tied to the pole of the gristmill and to work him until he gave them new orders.
The soldiers took Barbarosa down the stairs and pushed him across the plaza, watched by everyone. At about the same time, Señora Helena’s carriage pulled into the plaza and came to a stop in front of the inn. She was watching with interest to see who it was that the soldiers were guarding in case it might have been Zorro, but she could tell that the man that they were escorting was not the bandido. Not unless he was much older than she had been led to believe. She looked around at the rest of the plaza, taking in the location and condition of the cuartel, the church and the few other buildings. She was not impressed.
Rudolfo had quickly jumped from the carriage and was ready to help the señora down. She descended and stopped to brush off her dress and pat things back into place. As soon as her serving ladies were beside her, she turned and went into the inn. She would see about rooms for the night, but she did not intend to spend much time here. She would find a house to rent where she would be more comfortable.
The innkeeper was instantly in attendance. “May I be of service, Señora . . .” he paused waiting for a name.
“I am Señora Helena Del Fuego. These are my servants, Contessa and Bonita. My other servant, Rudolfo is outside seeing to my baggage. I will require rooms for myself and my servants for the night.”
“Certainly, Señora Del Fuego, certainly,” he said bowing to her. “ I will have rooms prepared for you immediately. Would you like some refreshments while you wait? We do have some very good wines here.”
“Very well,” she said. “We have come a long way this morning. Bring four glasses. We will all have some of your wine.” While she believed everyone should remain in their proper places depending on their class, she was not a harsh mistress, and she knew how much she would appreciate a glass of wine about now. Her servants certainly would also. She and her ladies seated themselves at a table just as Rudolfo came in. Señora Helena beckoned him to come over. The innkeeper was just serving the wine. They all enjoyed a glass.
“This is fine wine, innkeeper,” said the señora. “I had no idea that such quality existed outside of Mexico City.”
“Si, Señora Del Fuego. This wine was produced right here in the area by Don Alejandro de la Vega. His hacienda is nearby,” he said with pride. “He owns the largest rancho in this part of California.”
“Then I would like to meet Señor de la Vega in person to compliment him on his wine making abilities. But now, I would like to go to my room to freshen up. Is it ready?”
The innkeeper looked up to see the maid coming out of the room. At her nod, he said, “Si, your rooms are ready now. Maria will show you the way. Will you require help with your baggage?”
Rudolfo shook his head no, and the innkeeper was disappointed. If he had helped with the luggage, who knows, the señora might have given him a tip. He shrugged his shoulders in resignation.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, the guards took Barbarosa to the gristmill on the other side of the plaza. They tied him to the pole of the gristmill and made sure that the gate to the mill was left open so that everyone could see. The more people saw, the more frightened they would be. This suited the soldiers very well and they made the most of it as they whipped the ranchero to keep him moving. They did not need to whip him, they just wanted to make as much commotion as possible.
Rosarita Cortez, the niece of Don Domingo Cortez, happened to be in the pueblo and saw what was happening. She was horrified. She stood there petrified for many minutes not knowing what to do. Finally she came to herself and the only thing she could think to do was run for Diego. He had always been the one she could run to for help when they were children, and she felt that he would be the one she could turn to now. She urged her servant to push the carriage horses to greater speed as they started down the road towards the de la Vega hacienda.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Señora Helena rested for a while in her room at the Inn and feeling refreshed, decided to take a walk around the plaza to look the pueblo over in much greater detail. She left Bonita and Contessa to arrange her things at the Inn and had Rudolfo accompany her. She immediately noticed the crowd on the other side of the plaza and walked over there to observe from a discreet distance. She saw what the crowd was watching, a man was tied to the grist mill pole like a beast and was being made to push it around. He was the man she had seen when she had arrived earlier. She wondered what he had done to deserve such a punishment. He was guarded by several soldiers who kept cracking a whip whenever it seemed he might slow down in the least.
Since it was a military matter, it did not concern her overmuch, so she put it out of her mind for the moment in order to look over the rest of the pueblo. She had asked the innkeeper if there were any houses in Los Angeles that might be rented and was told that there was one at the corner of the pueblo between the cuartel and the church. As she approached it, she thought it would do nicely for what she had in mind. There was a window on the second floor that would give her a commanding view of most of the plaza. If this house was livable at all, she would take it based on that alone.
She knocked on the door and was greeted by the owner whose name was Pinzana. They exchanged pleasantries. Just as she was about to go in, she looked back at the plaza in time to see a carriage pull up in front of the grist mill driven by a young don with a pretty señorita beside him. There were two other people in the back of the carriage that she could not see clearly. She could tell that they were upset by the scene before them and it was not long before the carriage was moving swiftly across the plaza towards the Magistrado’s office. The innkeeper had pointed his office out when he was showing her the way to the house that she might wish to rent. The carriage was far enough away that she could not be sure of any of the features on the occupant’s faces, so she asked Pinzana who they were. She was told that it was Don Diego de la Vega, Señorita Rosarita Cortez, and their servants. She filed the names away for future reference and turned to the business at hand.
The house was adequate. That was the word for it. It lacked any elegance whatsoever. But she was not here to be comfortable. She was here for one thing, to discover Zorro’s identity. As soon as she accomplished that, she would be on her way back to Mexico City where she belonged. The amount that Pinzana was asking for rent was too high, even for a furnished house, and Señora Helena soon made it clear that she would not pay such an amount. She named a price she felt was more reasonable, and by the time she was through applying her charm, Pinzana was happy to accept whatever she offered. The house needed a thorough cleaning, so she would remain at the Inn for a night or two to give her servants time to do the job. She sent Rudolfo to the Inn to get the women to come and start cleaning immediately.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
While this transaction was occurring, Diego and Rosarita were in the Magistrado’s office pleading their case for Barbarosa. It soon became quite clear to Diego that nothing they could say would change the Magistrado’s mind. At first, he listened to what they had to say, then he was very condescending as he poked fun at a poet for trying to speak of the law. Finally, he was menacing as he tired of their persistence and warned Diego not to interfere with the administration of justice in the pueblo. Diego’s eyes smoldered at the word “justice” but he had to hold his peace. He told Rosarita that there was nothing more they could do. She turned and walked out of the office, but not before she gave Diego a very unhappy look.
Once outside, Rosarita let him have it. “Is that the best you can do?” she asked in absolute disgust.
Diego tried to deflect her by saying, “Perhaps if I wrote a letter to the governor he might . . . .” He was unable to finish.
“Write a letter!” she exclaimed. “If I were a man I would do something about this,” she declared. And it wouldn’t be . . . writing a letter!” She stalked off.
Diego tried to smooth things over as best as he could given the limitations he had to work under. “Rosarita,” he said as he walked after her. “I know how you must feel and . . . .”
He was brought up short when Rosarita rounded on him and in an angry, demanding voice asked, “What happened to you Diego? When you were a boy you wouldn’t have stood by idly while a man was tortured.” Then worst of all she said, dripping disgust, “You are not half the man you were when you were only ten years old.” She turned away from him and went down the stairs without a backward glance. Diego was left standing on the balcony alone. He was cut to the quick by Rosarita’s accusations and it was all he could do not to respond. Gripping the rail tightly, he got his own emotions under control before he followed her down the stairs. He could not fault her for her outburst, for he felt the same way about Barbarosa’s unjust punishment. Diego, the poet, could do no more than he had; it was up to Zorro to make up for any lack. He drove Rosarita home.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Señora Helena began strolling back towards the Inn after taking her leave of Pinzana and making sure that her servants knew what to do. She paused by the well and watched the soldiers coming and going out of the cuartel. One of them was extremely remarkable because of his size. Not his height, but his width. She did not believe she had seen any other soldier in the king’s army that could match this fellow in girth. He saw her at about the same time and came to where she was.
“I am Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia,” he announced, saluting. “Acting commandanté of the pueblo of Los Angeles.” He paused. “Or at least I was, until yesterday. Now I am just Sergeant Garcia.” He looked a little forlorn. “May I ask your name, Señora? And just what brings you to Los Angeles? It is my duty to ask it of everyone who comes to the pueblo.” As he was speaking, another soldier walked up. She could see that this man was the real commandanté of the pueblo by the uniform that he wore. Sergeant Garcia snapped to attention and introduced him. “May I present Capitán Don Juan Ortega, new commandanté of the pueblo de Los Angeles.”
“At your service,” Ortega said. “Welcome to Los Angeles.” Here he took her hand and kissed it as a gentleman would. “And now may I have the honor to know your name?”
Señora Helena had her story prepared. “My name is Señora Helena Del Fuego. I and my servants have just come from Mexico City.” She paused and with a sad look on her face, looked down towards the ground for effect. “I am recently widowed.” Here she dabbed at her eyes convincingly. “Mexico City holds too many memories for me and I have decided to find a new place to live. I plan to spend a few days here to see if I like Los Angeles. If I do, I plan to purchase a house. If I do not, I will journey further up the coast, possibly to Monterey to seek a home there. My husband left me enough money to live comfortably, if I am careful.” She dabbed her eyes again.
Ortega took her hand again and patted it in sympathy. “I am sorry for your loss, Señora. I do hope you find our pueblo to your liking. Your beauty will brighten our days should you decide to stay.”
It was all Señora Helena could do not to roll her eyes in response to the Capitán’s remarks. He was about as oily as they came. Still, she made herself smile as she replied, “Why thank you Capitán, but it remains to be seen whether I will be staying. What is this I hear about a bandido who calls himself Zorro? I saw a poster in the inn offering a sizeable reward for him. Is he dangerous? I do so want to find a place where I will be safe.”
Sergeant Garcia was quick to respond, “Oh no, Señora. Zorro will not harm a woman. You have nothing to fear from him.”
Ortega glared at Garcia, but smiled as he turned to Señora Helena. “I myself only arrived yesterday, Señora, but I plan to make the capture of Zorro a priority. I will have law and order as long as I am commandanté. You will have nothing to worry about.”
“I am pleased to hear that, Commandanté,” she replied. “I did rather have a feeling about this place. That I would like it, that is.”
Chapter Four
Chapter Two
Chapter One
Table of Contents
