Season 1, Episodes 26, 39 – Adios, Señor Magistrado/The Eagle's Flight

Alejandro entered the gate to his hacienda. "Diego," he called out, unsure where his son would appear from. "Diego," he called again, looking from the mezzanine to the door that led to the house. "Diego," he said one last time, heading towards the door.

"Here I am, Father." Diego appeared on the mezzanine, standing outside his room door his hands in the pockets of his housecoat.

"There you are! I have the most fantastic tale to tell you." Alejandro strode to the bottom of the stairs to meet Diego as he came down. "The meeting at the tavern had a most unexpected conclusion. Come into the sala, I want to tell you about it."

Diego followed him into the sala where Alejandro shed his cloak and hat in the chair by the door. "I would not believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes. Do you remember that soldier, Figueroa, who was accused of poisoning the prisoners?"

Diego nodded and took a seat in one of the armchairs. "I remember. Didn't he escape from the cuartel yesterday? Did they find him?"

Alejandro also sat, facing his son. "After a fashion. At the meeting the magistrado was just accusing the comandante of conspiracy to sow disorder in Los Angeles when Figueroa showed up, at the point of Zorro's sword."

Diego raised his eyebrows a little. "Oh? And did he or Zorro have anything to say about the accusations against the comandante?"

"Figueroa was about to give testimony against the magistrado and he had just said the magistrado was responsible for the crime in Los Angeles when the magistrado took a pistol and shot Figueroa dead!"

Diego sat forward, his face the picture of concern. "Well, what happened, Father? Is the magistrado in jail?"

Alejandro analyzed his son's concern for a long moment before continuing his story. "I'm afraid not. Not only were the landowners at this meeting, but also a lot of other men who turned out to be the magistrado's men. After killing Figueroa he tried to make an escape but myself and some of the other dons stopped him. Then, Zorro and the comandante began fighting and in the confusion one of the magistrado's men turned on him and stabbed him before we could do anything to stop him."

Alejandro was itching to get up and pace around while he told this story. The entire event had put him on edge in a way he hadn't expected. Not only had the highest level of their local government proved to be dangerously corrupt, Zorro had also come precious close to losing his freedom once and for all. However, he stayed put in his chair, he wanted to watch Diego's face closely as he told him this story.

"So the magistrado is dead." Diego leaned back in his chair, his voice carrying a tone of finality.

"I'm afraid so," Alejandro said, "as are several others who were caught up in his schemes."

Diego looked thoughtful for a moment. He seemed to be reflecting on the information Alejandro had just relayed. Looking back up at him Diego seemed to remember the conversation again. "And Zorro? What happened to him?"

Alejandro noticed that Diego didn't comment on the phrase " Then, Zorro and the comandante began fighting, " which Alejandro had worded that way specifically to see how Diego would respond to it. " After giving the comandante his sword Zorro found himself unarmed and at the comandante's mercy."

"Really?" said Diego, "That seems very foolish of him."

"It was," said Alejandro. "He is lucky that the comandante is an honorable man. The comandante gave Zorro back his sword and allowed him to escape."

"An honorable man indeed to extend such courtesy to an outlaw." Diego leaned back in his chair again.

Alejandro was studying his son's face. Honestly, Diego was remarkably calm for just hearing the magistrado of the pueblo had been killed. Diego's expressions weren't telling him anything, but the not telling was, in and of itself, telling.

"Is that all?" Diego said, his tone one of passive disinterest.

"Don't you think that's quite enough for one night? Our king's magistrate murdered a man in cold blood and was then killed at a community meeting. Our comandante and the most wanted outlaw in all of California were fighting side by side against cronies of the magistrado. The same comandante then proceeded to let the outlaw flee when he had every opportunity and every right to arrest him, and you ask 'is that all'?"

Diego gave a defeated shrug. "I suppose when you put it like that there was more than enough excitement to last the pueblo for a year. Maybe now our town can have a little peace and quiet. I'm glad you were not hurt, and that Zorro got away."

"Me too," said Alejandro.

Alejandro watched as Diego, guarded by two armed men, climbed the stairs out of the cellar. Varga, satisfied that he had everything he wanted, left as well. Alone once again with Sergeant Garcia and Bernardo, Alejandro took a seat on the steps. He didn't know what Diego was up to, but he sensed his son had some sort of plan. Whatever it was, Alejandro trusted it would be something clever.

Bernardo and Sergeant Garcia sat down as well.

"What do we do now?" said Garcia.

"Wait for a chance," said Alejandro. Sighing, he rested his chin on his hand. He thought something like this would happen, there had been hints of growing unrest for a while now and an armed rebellion was hardly a surprise.

Garcia scratched his chin thoughtfully. "What do you think Don Diego is doing right now?"

"I don't want to think about it." Which wasn't strictly true, he did want to think about it, he just didn't want to talk about it with Sergeant Garcia. His mind was racing through the possibilities. Diego could be doing just as he said, and getting the list of dons for Varga. Alejandro discounted that as a possibility immediately. Diego would never do such a thing. The other possibilities were the ones that worried him. If Diego attempted to escape, or to prevent Varga's men from getting the list he could be harmed – or killed. And even if he managed to escape, what would he do then? What would be his next move?

"Zorro is late, I hope he comes to rescue us soon," Garcia pondered aloud.

Alejandro tried to suppress an irritated sigh. Sergeant Garcia was a good man, but sometimes he could really annoy. Still, Garcia's faith in Zorro might not be entirely misplaced. Part of Alejandro was depending on him too.

"I suppose that rascal of a fox will come when we least expect him, that is how he usually does it." Garcia twisted the ends of his mustache thoughtfully. "I just wonder how he will fight all those men at once."

That really was the question. Diego was now outside of the cellar, which was certainly better than being inside of it, but what could he possibly do against Varga's army? If he managed to escape his captors without being shot or killed, coming back to the pueblo wasn't an option. One man against so many would certainly not survive.

The minutes ticked away. Alejandro wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed. He was growing more apprehensive. Diego had been gone for too long. Yes, the fate of Los Angeles and all of California worried him, but Diego worried him more. What if the last thing he had said to his son was accuse him of cowardice. What if he never saw his son again. Resolutely he promised himself that he would tell Diego how proud of him he was the next time he saw him, if he ever saw him again. Maybe his son didn't always do what he wanted, or act how Alejandro wished he would, but his love for his son never wavered. Through all his disappointment and anger he had never stopped being proud of the man Diego was. Alejandro realized now that he needed to say it more.

Commotion on the floor above caused the three of them to look up at the ceiling. Then, a second later the cellar door was thrown open and a familiar voice called out, "Sergeant Garcia! Don Alejandro!"

The three men scrambled to their feet and raced up the stairs.

That evening the tavern was crowded as close to every person in the pueblo came out to celebrate victory over the would-be revolutionaries. Alejandro hadn't seen the town this joyous in a long time. Most of all, however, Alejandro was happy to see his son. He watched Diego all night long as he swapped stories with the other dons about the events of the day. Diego demurred about any active role in the events and stated multiple times that he had only ridden to alert the other dons, then he would turn the conversation away from himself and ask after the actions of the other man. Of course the dons were perfectly happy to oblige and recount the tale of how they saved California.

It was true, of course, that Los Angeles had ultimately been saved by the action of the citizen's army, but things may have gone differently if the rebellion hadn't been contained in the plaza until the army could arrive. Alejandro didn't want to pat himself on the back too much, but he recognized how important those crucial minutes were when he, Garcia and Bernardo had held the front until the dons arrived. And Zorro. Zorro had been there too, running interference and keeping the rebels from overwhelming their location. Zorro had freed them in the first place. Though every man had done his part to defend their homes, Zorro had done the most. Zorro was the real hero that day.

Standing, Alejandro raised his glass. "I would like to propose a toast!"

A round of cheers went up. Many toasts had been proposed that night, and many more were sure to come.

"On this day Los Angeles has been delivered from a great foe by it's truest friend." Alejandro looked around the room, spotting Diego in the corner with Sergeant Garcia.

Another round of cheers.

"Through his bravery he has given us back our homes, our freedom, and our very lives." Alejandro studied Diego's face. He looked relaxed, smiling and happy.

More cheers followed.

"Tonight, I propose a toast to the greatest man in all of California, to Zorro!"

"To Zorro!" echoed the tavern as soldier, don and peon alike all raised their cups in honor of the masked bandit.

Taking a drink he noted the look Diego and Bernardo exchanged before they each drank their toast. Yes, thought Alejandro, to Zorro , he repeated mentally as he took another sip. My son the Fox.

Fin