Chapter Text
Monastario (to Diego): You are subject to a lot of things, are you not?
Walt Disney’s Zorro S01E08
“I was looking for you, Teniente* de la Vega!”
Monastario’s manner of rushing into the room had not changed, only his military rank had.
“¿Sí, mi coronel?”** the regiment adjutant responded, putting down his pen.
The military uniform suited the former señorito*** , just as the former comandante of the Californian pueblo looked quite at home within the walls of the headquarters of the Ninth Cavalry Regiment “Santiago”, located in Barcelona.
“Don Diego, I have news,” said Monastario, frowning. “You remember de Bouchard, of course?”
“How could I not remember?” grinned Lieutenant de la Vega, but his face darkened. “Has that damned corsair dared to burn and plunder my California again?!”
“No, no. On the contrary, one might say—” he hesitated, but meeting the Adjutant’s puzzled look, he continued, “It turns out that Hipólito de Bouchard remembered me— He is currently serving Peru. I have been offered a diplomatic mission to Lima. Of course, they suggested I take you with me if I agreed. What do you think of that?”
“Is he at least married, that Bouchard?” Diego drawled, and smiled meaningfully.
Monastario, whose lips also twitched in a smile, shrugged silently.
“I suppose it’s not an easy mission,” de la Vega continued. “General San Martín declared Peru independent last summer, after ten months of fighting with our troops.”
“And before that, he defeated us in Chile,” Monastario snorted. “But you know, Don Diego, that it was for my participation in the war with the Chilean rebels that I received the military awards for valor.”
“That’s why you’re being sent to Peru, isn’t it, Don Enrique? Your military decorations will earn the respect of San Martín and the others, as will the royalist disgrace that brought us together in Los Angeles.”
He and Monastario did not hide their long-standing acquaintance, but they still avoided addressing each other by name where they could be overheard. The address “Don” was intended to convince potential witnesses of their conversation that Colonel Monastario and his adjutant were friends, nothing more.
“I can refuse, teniente.”
“But you want to agree, don’t you, mi coronel?”
“Diego, let’s take a walk,” the Colonel replied, and he thought for the umpteenth time that the Fox remained the Fox even in uniform.
In Spain, Diego de la Vega walked on the edge of the knife even more often than in California. They both did. Judging by the smile that curved de la Vega’s lips, he was thinking the same thing as Monastario. However, having reached the La Ribera quarter, their favorite place for walks, they were finally able to talk openly, and the conversation turned, of course, to politics—a topic incompatible with playfulness.
“I am sure that the Congress of the Holy Alliance has already made or will make a decision on intervention, which will probably take place in the spring. But—” Monastario fell silent, because he and de la Vega had already discussed that a thousand times.
“You will not regret it later if we go to Peru?” Diego asked.
“And you? I’ll accept any choice you make, Diego. But, damn it, you have only been in the Army for a short time, and it hurts me to think that you might die. Or be executed. Or rather, we could both die or be executed.”
“Well, that’s a consolation,” de la Vega joked gloomily. “I feel like a traitor, you know?”
“I understand. But you remember how it all began, right? People took to the streets of Madrid. You, a student from overseas, were not indifferent either—in fact, it was then that you, in a sense, turned into Zorro, because it was your first experience of fighting the authorities. And what do we have three years later? The Army is poorly trained and organized, and the people are disappointed. The junior officers and privates are unhappy with the Cortes****, you saw it yourself. They are simple men, and they blame the revolutionary government for everything, not the King. And they don’t think about what might happen in the future. I wouldn’t be surprised if our troops switched side and joined the interventionists—”
“And then, Fernando will take revenge,” Diego said quietly. “Spain is facing occupation and the return of everything I fought against three years ago and, in my own way, I am still fighting now. And if we do go to Peru, where would we go if—”
“—If our fears come true," interrupted Monastario, “and if we have no desire to serve Fernando in a kingdom occupied, say, by the French, we can always return to good old California.”
“Then we’d better head to Mexico, mi colonel.”
“Have you gotten used to the architecture of Barcelona, Señor Zorro?” smiled Monastario.
The companions had just approached the Gothic cathedral of Santa Maria del Mar.
Diego crossed himself and said thoughtfully, “The architecture of Spanish cities is beautiful, and yet I often dream of California.”
“All those exploits of Zorro that never happened because one morning on the threshold of your hacienda—” Monastario fell silent, not finishing his sentence.
De la Vega did not look away. He wanted to say that if he regretted anything now, it was only that they had to return to headquarters. But night would come, and Diego intended to make every effort to ensure that they both showed up for duty tomorrow without having slept.
“Then, as now, you gave me the right to decide for both of us. I decided that way and I do not regret it. We’re going to Peru. You, mi coronel, understand the situation better.”
“Well, Peru awaits us then,” came the reply.
“You want so much—”
“—to see what Bouchard remembered me for, sí,” Monastario chuckled.
“This time he’ll remember me,” de la Vega threatened playfully.
Diego did not want to leave the Kingdom and he did not know how to lose. And he also knew that Enrique shared his feelings. However, the wisest thing Lieutenant de la Vega could do was to follow orders. To Peru, then, to Peru. Too bad they were not sent to La Plata*****, but if Diego was destined to see Buenos Aires, he would see it.
“Enrique, have you been to Buenos Aires?”
“Never. Why are you asking?”
“I am curious about what this city looks like.”
“We can land in Buenos Aires and go by land to Lima.”
“Is it only me who is bothered by the fact that there is a civil war in Rio de la Plata?”
“They are constantly at odds there,” Monastario waved his hand. “If we’re lucky, we’ll meet another truce.”
“And if we’re unlucky?”
“Could Zorro really be unlucky?”
“Sometimes I think you got involved with me because I’m lucky.”
“Not only that. As I suspected, you are subject to lot of things, and full of surprises, and as long as you’re with me, boredom is not a problem.”
Embarrassed like a boy, Diego didn’t answer. Who would talk about surprises! he thought, remembering how their special relationship had begun.