The Secret of Zorro
Tornado's Crown
Chapter Nine
by Ella Christian @1999-2002
Contact author at EllaChristian@aol.com

Chapter Nine
An Obvious Solution           

Rufino scampered into the cuartel yard ahead of Don Carlos.  He saw several lancers that he knew.  Waving, he skipped towards the jail.  It was all too exciting, to have both his father and his half-brother in the jail and possibly facing the gallows.  He had no doubt that Zorro would save both of them, and with good fortune he would witness this.  He had seen it before, after all, when Zorro saved the gypsies on midsummer night nearly a year ago.  He had even helped, and perhaps he would be able to help again this time!  He spied Alejandro sitting on a cot beside Diego.  Both of them had their collars open and their jackets off, trying to ward off the heat.  Mendocino was still lying motionless on the other cot, though his blanket had been thrown off and his shirt hung open.
Alejandro stood up when he saw the boy coming towards them.  Diego rose as well.  
"Don Carlos and I were able to get in, and they made Doņa Elizabeth move!" he exclaimed.  He looked behind and saw that Carlos and Bernardo were both entering the commandante's office. 
"Rufino, is Elizabeth all right?" Diego asked.  "Was she out there long?"
"I think she sat there for many hours," Rufino answered.  "She was there when we arrived and it took us many hours to get here after we heard about it, for the ladies take their time getting ready.  For anything." 
"But she is all right now?" Diego pressed.
"They were taking her to the Tavern I think," the boy answered.  "The ladies and Lupe and Seņora Garcia, they were all with her."
Alejandro kept an eye on Vilaro's office door, which was still closed.  "Rufino, I want you to go to the Tavern and tell her, tell all the ladies, that we are all right."
"But I want to stay here with you. Perhaps they will put me in jail too. But no, I do not want to be in jail.  I want to be out of the jail so that I can help El Zorro rescue you." 
Diego and Alejandro exchanged glances.
Rufino turned to Diego.  "You should not have let Doņa Elizabeth sleep in the old barn last night," he said.
Diego frowned.  "The...barn?" he repeated.  Then he said, "Oh, yes, the barn!  But she went off in search of Blanca, Rufino. I did not know that is where she went." He glanced at his father again, then returned his attention to his young brother. "I suppose that explains why she did not come when all the fuss with the commandante started last night," he said.
Rufino nodded.  "That is what she said. It is not like her to miss such things."
Diego smiled.  "No, that is not like her," he agreed.
"Rufino, really, I want you to leave the cuartel and return to the Tavern," Alejandro said.  He did not like the boy being loose in the area given his history with Vilaro, who had never forgotten nor forgiven the rock from Rufino's slingshot one summer earlier.  
"I think she might climb over the cuartel walls," Rufino said to Diego, ignoring Alejandro.
"Since the lancers have allowed you into the garrison, you could do me a great favor if you would go to her in the Tavern and tell her that Father and I are all right," Diego suggested.
"But I do not want to leave, I want to see what the commandante will do with the two of you," Rufino answered.  "I think he wants to hang you.  He wants to hang everyone.  If he hangs you, will Rancho de la Vega be my rancho?"
"Rufino!" Alejandro exclaimed, horrified.  "These are not proper things to be discussing!  No one is going to hang Diego or me!  The people of the pueblo simply will not allow that."
"Oh, then there is to be a fight?" Rufino asked.
Diego could not suppress a chuckle.  "I hope it does not come to that!" he said.
"El Zorro will have to rescue you," Rufino said, sticking with his expectations of his hero.  Then he frowned, remembering something. "What if he is in trouble?  For he was shot!"
"I suspect that the injury to his arm is probably the least of his worries at the moment," Diego said.  
Rufino cocked his head curiously, wondering what would make Diego think that.
"You must remember that it is always hard to say what El Zorro will do, for he has a mind of his own about when to intervene and when not to," Diego added.  "But we must believe that one way or another the situation will be resolved and that Father and I can come home soon.  Now, do me this good deed, my young brother.  Go to the Tavern and tell Doņa Elizabeth that I send her my love and will see her soon.  Will you do that for me?  And tell her to give Esperanza a kiss for me.  Will you do that, Rufino?"
Alejandro looked beyond the boy to see the door to the commandante's office open.  Carlos Matteo stepped out, followed by Bernardo.  They walked across the dusty cuartel yard, coming towards the jail.  Sergeant Garcia emerged as well, and followed them.  None of them looked happy.

Elizabeth and her aunts entered the Tavern, inspiring glances from the dozen or so men who sat about at tables or standing at the bar.  Two were soldiers, several were vaqueros from various ranchos in the area, and at one table sat Don Francisco Bocca and Don Miguel Cahuenga, Lupe's father.   Seated at a table near the two dons were Consuelo Bocca and a Mexican army officer none of them recognized.  Juan Bottega was at the bar, keeping particularly close watch on the exchange between Consuelo and the man with the five stripes on his sleeve.   
Elizabeth sat heavily in a chair at a round table near the Tavern's fireplace, barely noticing who else was present.  The only virtue of the moment that she could think of was, it was cooler inside.  Immediately, however, this made her stomach resume its churning, for Diego and Alejandro had no such relief in the cuartel jail.  
"You look flushed, Elizabeth," Aunt Bridget said, sitting to her niece's left.  
"You do indeed," Lydia agreed, sitting at Elizabeth's right.  She offered Elizabeth a handkerchief and waved at Juan Bottega to bring a pitcher of water.
Clementia entered, and looked around to size up the crowd.   Lupe was right behind her.  Clementia marched to Elizabeth's table where she sat down, patting the chair beside her and indicating for Lupe to join them.  She pointedly ignored both her father and her cousin at their tables.  "I saw you give in," she said to Elizabeth.  "Now I want to be sure that you eat before you faint."  
"Thank you," Elizabeth said, accepting the fine white linen handkerchief and dabbing her brow as the water arrived.  She ignored Clementia's comments.
"That is a beautiful..." Lupe started, remembering to speak English for the aunts but forgetting the English word for handkerchief.
"It is from Ireland," Aunt Lydia replied, seeing what Lupe was looking at.  "Hand-ker-chief.  We have a great deal of Irish linen in Boston, it has become something of a trade for us."
"Oh, you mean you buy and sell it?" Lupe asked.
Lydia nodded.  "Not just to anybody, mind you," she said.  "But I maintain a small shop on the ground floor of our house, and we accept the business of the better families."
Bridget looked around once she saw that Elizabeth was drinking some water and losing the redness and heat in her cheeks.  The men standing and sitting about had gone back to their conversations, the novelty of so many women entering unaccompanied by men having quickly worn off.  The room was airy, rustic and comfortable, with a very high ceiling, carved detailing in the handrail up the staircase to the second floor, and featuring an extremely handsome mahogany bar.  "Los Angeles is trying to grow up," she murmured. A huge, round chandelier with three dozen thick candles hung from the center of the ceiling.  "That is a big chandelier," she observed more loudly.  Then she looked at Elizabeth.   "It is a chandelier, isn't it?"
Fumbling in her less than perfect English, Clementia chimed in, "The chandelier is Zorro's.  He swings from it sometimes." She grinned.  "The ladies of the pueblo always enjoy seeing that!"
The Boston sisters looked at her, astonished.  Elizabeth and Lupe burst out laughing.
"What did I say?" Clementia asked in Spanish, realizing she must have committed some gaffe with her wording.
"You just told them that Zorro purchased the chandelier to enjoy swinging the ladies of the pueblo from it!" Elizabeth translated.  Despite her worry, the image of her beloved, his black cape swirling behind him, lifting Doņa Leonora or, heaven forbid, Doņa Corinna, to the chandelier and giving them a push was priceless.  She got her breath and looked at her aunts, telling them what Clementia had been trying to say.
"I believe I like the other version better!" Bridget laughed.  
"Clementia, you need to take some English lessons from Don Carlos, as I have," Lupe teased in Spanish.  "Then you will not make such mistakes. His English is a good as his Spanish."
Elizabeth sighed, sobering. 
Bridget patted her hand.  "They will be released, dear," she said.  "You wait and see.  Perhaps that fellow Zorro will help them out."
"You do not know this commandante," Elizabeth answered.  Her heart clutched at hearing Zorro's name in connection with a rescue.  "I just want to see Diego, I want to make sure he is...." she stopped herself.  No one sitting there knew that he was the one with the bullet hole that had penetrated the arm of Zorro. She gulped.  It was at least some relief to know that Alejandro was there, and that Bernardo had gone into the cuartel with her father.  Bernardo would be able to relay Diego's condition and state of mind.    
Lupe continued the translating between Clementia and the aunts, all of the women leaving Elizabeth to sort herself out and regain her composure after her ordeal in the carriage.  Clementia kept making charming mistakes in her effort to talk with the Boston sisters, which in turn kept all four giggling.  This brought on glares from a number of the men sitting about, most notably the two older dons.  Neither approved of women entering the Tavern unaccompanied by their men.
"It is not customary for so many ladies to arrive at once, much less to arrive without escort," Lupe explained.  "I believe they want us to be more quiet."
"What they want is for us to leave, though we have as much right to be here as they do," Clementia huffed.  
"Now, you are the wife of the Sergeant?" Bridget asked.  She was still sorting out who was who in the pueblo, for she had discovered from Carlos's convoluted explanations that the intertwining of the various families, their servants and ranch workers, and the townspeople was complicated and yet important.  She reflected back on a conversation she had had with her brother-in-law a few days earlier.  
"You need to understand who is involved with whom, in order to know how to get anything done," Carlos had opined as they drove from San Pedro to Los Angeles on the day of their arrival.  "And more importantly, who is related to whom, particularly when it is by marriage.  It is the marriages that make it all quite complicated.  Especially when the family has more than one generation in the pueblo. And then there are the men with two families, now that is very complicated."
"Two families!" Lydia had repeated in some horror.  
"Si, a man marries and his first wife dies, often in childbirth, sometimes after they have had one or two or even more children....and then time passes and he marries again, often another young woman who proceeds to have more children.  Often the first or second or sometimes both wives are also his cousins, in which case they may have common grandparents or great grandparents.... and the haciendas have two sets of children of different ages running about..." he shook his head.  "I do not know if I have it all sorted out with some of these families."  He failed to reference the number of bastard mestizo children who were also scampering through hacienda kitchens and clinging to the skirts of their Indian mothers, the silent, unacknowledged companions of many of the dons.  "What I do know is that Elizabeth brings new blood into this pueblo and they can use it," he summarized.
"She is not a horse!" Bridget had exclaimed indignantly and despite her tiredness from the long journey on the Maria Cruz.
Carlos had laughed merrily, glancing at his sister-in-law.  "Of course not!" he said.  "But I tell you she has worked a miracle for the de la Vegas, a family that was on the verge of extinction three years ago!"
Bridget looked again at her niece, who sat staring at the Tavern door, lost in thought.  Elizabeth's color was normal again, but the anxiety on her face had not diminished.
"Si," Clementia said in answer to Bridget's question, bringing the aunt back to the conversation.  "I am Seņora Garcia.  We married last October, at Rancho Verbena.  That is to the south, in San Juan Capistrano.  It is my mother's family ranch."
"I am going to San Juan Capistrano tomorrow," Lupe volunteered.  "My father is going to buy some horses at Rancho Verbena."
This caught Elizabeth's attention.  "Rancho Verbena?" she asked.  "Who is Don Miguel buying horses from there?"
"Oh, from Don Benicio," Lupe replied. 
"He has no horses there," Elizabeth said.  Rancho Verbena had been all but abandoned in the fall when the Boccas had re-opened it for the wedding.  Benicio is at Rancho Verbena? she thought. She had privately assumed that he used the place from time to time, but that he kept mainly to wherever he lived in Mexico.
"Si, he moved his herd there from Mexico," Lupe said.  "He has many horses in San Juan Capistrano.  Many," she nodded.
Elizabeth looked at Clementia. "You never told me that," she said.  "When did he do that?"
Clementia shrugged.  "It is a family matter," she said.
"My father told me he brought most of the horses in May," Lupe continued.  "Now he...my father, I mean...is looking for two mares.  He says that Don Benicio's herd is the finest in California now.  I am sorry, Doņa Elizabeth, I know it is always said that the de la Vega herd is the best, but now...." she did not finish her sentence, realizing she had perhaps gone too far though exactly how, or why, she was not sure.  She looked at Bridget and Lydia.  "It is not a long journey," she said to them.  "Only two days' ride, from Los Angeles. We will stay at the missions."
"One day," Clementia said.  "If you have a good horse. And I am sure my brother will treat you as his overnight guests when you arrive at the Rancho."
Elizabeth's mind was spinning.  They had seen nothing of Benicio since the late winter, when he had inexplicably helped Diego in the Santa Susanna Pass and then gave Phantom to Zorro.  Diego never spoke the Bocca son's name. Nothing of this transfer of animals had come up over dinner conversations, from Diego or his father.  Do they even know? Elizabeth wondered, knowing that this was not minor news. A new herd of fine horses coming up the Camino Real was the sort of information that would stir great interest everywhere, and most certainly in the homes of families that already breed, traded and sold excellent horses.  Everyone would know of such a transfer.  Including, Elizabeth realized, her own father.  And, of course, Clementia.
"You are finally learning to keep some things to yourself, I see," she said to her friend.
"He did not wish to run the risk of thieves," Clementia said.  
"You cannot move a herd of horses that quickly, nor can you keep such a drive a secret," Elizabeth said flatly.  "At least not unless you have a great deal of cooperation from the authori...." she stopped again.  Vilaro had to know about this, too.  Vilaro and Benicio, once again collaborating.  She shook her head, looking down, her palms flat on the tabletop.  
"Elizabeth, what is the matter?  It is just horses," Bridget said.
"No, I do not think it is just horses," Elizabeth replied softly.  
"I did not know he was doing it until he was there," Clementia said.  "A servant from Rancho Verbena arrived at my father's house and said, 'the horses have arrived,' and my father said, 'what horses?'" She shrugged again, glancing over her shoulder at her father, who was deeply lost in a game of cards with Don Miguel, and said, "My brother does what he wants.  He always has."
"But when did he take up Rancho Verbena?" Elizabeth asked.
"My mother gave it to him," Clementia answered.  "It was his 29th birthday, in May. She wanted him to have his own Rancho before he is 30."
Now Elizabeth was truly thunderstruck.  She knew Doņa Leonara had long favored her wayward son, despite his scrapes with the law, his questionable dealings at the gambling table, and his faintly patched-up disgrace with his father.  That she had handed her family home to him was as astonishing as had been Don Francisco's writing him out of the will.  Whatever had possessed Clementia's mother to do such a thing?
"I am looking forward to seeing Don Benicio's horses," Lupe said innocently.  "He is always riding a fine horse.  The sorrel one he often rides is my favorite, do you know the one I mean, Doņa Elizabeth?"
"Si," Elizabeth said absently, still lost in trying to accommodate what she was learning.  Despite his mysterious help on the terrible day that Tornado died, and the lie he told to protect Diego's secret identity, she did not trust Benicio.  Despite the help, and despite his intoxicating and unsettling charm, to Elizabeth he would forever be the man who put a poison blade into Zorro's side, crippling him for two months.  She looked at the Tavern door, wishing desperately that her father would walk through it, accompanied by Alejandro and Diego, and wishing even more desperately that the last 24 hours had been a nightmare from which she would momentarily awake.
"How long will you be in San Juan Capistrano?" Bridget asked.
"I do not know," Lupe answered.  "That will depend on my father."
"So, Don Benicio is...your brother?" Lydia asked Clementia.
"Si," Clementia nodded.  "He is two years older than me."
"He is a horseman, like Diego," Lupe said.
"He is nothing like Diego," Elizabeth said tartly.
This elicited a glare from Clementia.  "He and Diego are both horsemen, they are both from good families, and they are both handsome.  I believe that makes them alike!" she exclaimed.
Elizabeth shot back a look and started to reply, but the Tavern door opened. First Rufino bounded in, followed by Don Carlos, then Don Alejandro, and then Bernardo. Alejandro looked awful, his shirt collar uncharacteristically open, his jacket hanging over his arm, sweat pouring down the side of his face. It was obvious he had not slept at all since being led away from the hacienda the midnight before.   Sergeant Garcia entered behind Bernardo. Elizabeth's heart began to pound, expecting to jump to her feet and run to Diego.  But Garcia pulled the door closed behind him.  Diego was not there.  And the men looked grim.
Elizabeth rose to her feet slowly, gripping the table and trying not to shake.  
Carlos held up his hand to her, as if to stop her from erupting.  "He is all right," he said, approaching the table with the others.  
"Alejandro?" Elizabeth said, going to her father-in-law.  
He sat down wearily at a chair that Bernardo put behind him. "Si, Diego is fine, Elizabeth."
"He told me to tell you that he is fine and he will be home soon," Rufino offered.  "And something else but I cannot remember what."  He looked up at Don Carlos.  "May I go to the mission now, to see Moneta?"
Elizabeth held the boy still for a moment, looking down into the face that held the same dark eyebrows and perfect nose and square jaw that she saw whenever she looked at her beloved.  "Thank you, Rufino," she said.  "For giving me Diego's message."
"Si, you are welcome," the boy said hurriedly.  He looked back at Carlos, who looked at Alejandro, got a nod, and then nodded at Rufino.
"Stay in the churchyard," he warned.  "Do not run off  into the meadows!" 
Rufino was already out the door by the time the last instruction was delivered.
Elizabeth sat down slowly, looking from Carlos to Alejandro and back again.  "Why isn't Diego here, too?" she asked.  
Alejandro sighed.  Sergeant Garcia sighed even more loudly.  Carlos pulled up a chair and sat down across from his daughter.
"Vilaro is not letting him go until he takes off his shirt and shows him his arms," he said simply.
Elizabeth stared at her father, speechless.
"You will remember it is what we were all made to do, last night," Alejandro explained.  "Vilaro was willing, thanks to your father's persuasion, to overlook the settee with Mendocino and me.  But...."
"Diego should not have hit him," Clementia interrupted.
"Vilaro has a very black eye," Carlos said.  "Which he spent most of the time at the mirror looking at, while I was in his office."  He shook his head.  "He is not going to be lenient, I am afraid."  He took a deep breath.  "He is not talking about hanging any longer, but he did say something to the effect that 'young de la Vega can rrrrrrrot in the cuarrrrrtel jail until his shirrrrrrt crumbles and falls off!'  Or something like that."
"And you told Diego this, and he still refused?" Elizabeth asked.
Alejandro looked up at her wearily and nodded.  "He says it is a matter of principle," he said.
Elizabeth gulped.  Principle, indeed.  Not to mention the bullet hole in his arm.  "I want to see him," she said.
Carlos now winced, anticipating what was about to happen.  He shook his head.  "Not possible," he said.
"What do you mean, 'not possible'?" she asked.
"He has forbidden Diego any visitors, other than his father, Bernardo and me."  He cleared his throat.  "Your escapade at the garrison gate did not help matters."
"Escapade!" Elizabeth exclaimed.  "He has no right to deny me visitation with my husband!  I could not think of anything to do besides wait!  Foolishly I credited the commandante with the capacity to come to his senses!"
"You 'waited,' Anita Elizabeth, in front of the entrance to the fort," her father pointed out.
"Now you are angry with me?" Elizabeth cried at her father.  The entire Tavern became very quiet.  
"You made a hard situation even worse, is what he is trying to say," Aunt Lydia said, her voice low.
"I know what he is saying!" Elizabeth cried.
Sergeant Garcia had been edging himself to stand just behind Clementia's chair.  Now he nudged her shoulder, silently suggesting that they leave the de la Vega-Matteo family alone to sort out their business. Clementia ignored him, far too interested in watching what she considered to be the perfect family collapsing in on itself while the heir apparent languished stubbornly in his jail cell over his refusal to simply remove his shirt for 30 seconds.   Suddenly she started laughing.
"This is ridiculous!" she said.  "Someone just needs to talk Diego into taking off his shirt!  We all know he is not Zorro, he has nothing to hide!"
"He refused last night and he is still refusing this afternoon," Alejandro sighed.
Clementia looked at Sergeant Garcia.  "Well go and rip it off him!" she said to her husband.
Everyone looked at her, shocked.
"Oh, I could not do that! Don Diego is a gentleman!" the Sergeant said, appalled at his wife's audacious suggestion.
Clementia stood up, her hands going to her hips.  She looked around at them all.  "It is a practical matter!" she said.  She looked at Elizabeth. Then she looked at Alejandro and Carlos.  "If you were looking out for him you would pull the shirt off him yourselves!"  She waved in the direction of the cuartel.  "What is stopping you?"  
No one said anything.  It exasperated her roundly that even Elizabeth was silent on this obvious solution.
"All right then, I shall do it myself!" she exclaimed, heading for the door.
Elizabeth and Alejandro exchanged a horrified look.
"I married a woman of action," the Sergeant sighed.
A flurry of skirts rustling and hats being pushed onto heads followed, as the entourage scurried after the Sergeant's seņora.