Monastario and his men rode for a long time.
Meanwhile, at the mission (church), Padre Fray Felipe picked fresh oranges from his orange trees. His ears caught the sound of the approaching horses. Confused, he looked up from his basket to see Monastario and the lancers halting their horses on the church grounds.
They dismounted and tied up the impatient horses.
Remaining calm, Felipe held the basket’s handle in both hands, waiting.
Monastario gave the lancers strict orders about keeping an eye on the horses, and then he spotted Felipe. Smirking, he marched up to him and said, ”Gracias, señor,” picking out one of Felipe’s oranges.
Not delighted about his appearance, Felipe asked Monastario, “Why are you here, comandante? There are no Pueblo here. Go harass another church.”
Monastario sank his teeth into the skin of the orange and said, “Oh, please, Padre, I’m merely here on duty. I’m not seeking out your Pueblo. I’m seeking out your money.”
“Money?” Felipe asked. “What are you talking about? What money?”
Monastario finished Felipe’s orange. Laughing, he tossed the remains onto the dirt. “Your money, Padre. What do you think? It is time for the citizens to pay their taxes, no refunds.”
Felipe retreated backward. Scoffing, he turned his back to the comandante. “The people of Los Ángeles have never been asked to pay taxes!”
“Until now,” Monastario said, drawing his sword. “Now, pay up!” The tip of his sword touched Felipe’s neck.
Startled, Felipe explained, “You should know that I don’t have any money, comandante. I’m a monk!”
“Very well,” Monastario said. He whistled to the lancers. “Lancers, we have a prisoner! Take him away!”
"Si, capitán!” the lancers called. A half dozen of them approached Felipe.
Monastario snatched the basket out of the monk’s hands.
Two lancers grabbed Felipe by the shoulders.
“What nonsense is this?” he asked while he was dragged toward the horses. “Are you sure this is necessary?”
“As long as I am in charge,” Monastario spoke while rubbing down his beard, “yes.”
When they reached the horses, Monastario put Felipe in cuffs.
“You’re heartless, Monastario,” he growled, but that was the last word he spoke because Monastario tied a rag around his mouth, preventing him from saying any more.
Before long, the comandante and his lancers rode away, and they took Padre Fray Felipe with them.
Shortly after they left, a new figure galloped onto the church grounds on top of an enormous, black Andalusian. It was none other than El Zorro! He had hoped to make it to the mission before the comandante to warn Felipe, but he didn’t realize it was too late.
Quickly dismounting Tornado, his horse, he scurried toward the doors of the church and called, ”Padre Felipe!” but there was no answer.
Zorro became nervous. He tried again, ”Padre Felipe, it’s me! El Zorro!” but yet again, he didn’t get any response. Realizing Monastario had beaten him to the church, he said, “Oh no!” and hurried back to Tornado, jumping onto his back. “Tornado, Monastario got here before us! We need to hurry to catch up with him before he reaches the cuartel and rescue Felipe! Quickly!” He kicked Tornado’s sides with his spurs.
Whinnying, Tornado jerked forward. However, he took off so fast that Zorro’s feet slipped out of the stirrups, and he tumbled to the ground. Dust spewed up from where he landed, but he quickly sat.
Tornado, unaware that he wasn’t carrying a rider, continued to gallop.
From where he sat, Zorro (AKA Don Diego de la Vega) shouted for his horse. “Tornado, what about me?”
Hearing him, Tornado twisted his head. His eyes widened when he realized he had left his rider behind. He screeched to a stop, and his rump hit the trunk of a tree.
Standing, Diego sprinted to him. He could tell Tornado was embarrassed. He gave him a few reassuring pats and then remounted, giving Tornado one more kick. They took off.
That time, Tornado didn’t lose his rider. He and El Zorro galloped forward on a dirt road, away from the mission and toward Capitán Monastario.
***
Monastario and his men rode on the outskirts of downtown Los Ángeles. They dragged Padre Fray Felipe behind them in a large, horse-drawn cart.
Monastario whistled and enjoyed his success while Felipe mumbled inappropriate comments behind his rag.
Zorro was catching up from behind.
Seeing him, Felipe mumbled, “Zorro!”
Zorro ran as fast as a fox. One could barely see Tornado’s hooves banging on the ground.
Taking one hand off the reins, Zorro reached for his hat and took it off. He threw it forward like a boomerang.
The hat spun toward the lancer steering the horse-drawn cart. It hit him in the face, knocking him off the cart. He landed in a puddle of mud.
The draft horses whinnied.
Wanting to know the source of their uneasiness, Monastario turned on his own horse and snapped, “What is the meaning of—?” His eyes caught Zorro. “Zorro!”
Zorro galloped beside the cart, his cape flapping wildly behind him. Not wasting any time, he jumped from his horse and landed feet-first in the cart holding Felipe. He gestured for Tornado to take off so he wouldn’t get hurt and ripped the rag off Felipe’s mouth.
Felipe said, “Thanks, Zorro, but”—he held out the cuffs—“I’m chained like an ox.”
“Where’re the keys, Padre?” Diego asked him.
Felipe answered by tipping his head in the direction of Monastario.
He yelled, ”Estupidos!” at the lancers. “Don’t just stand there! Shoot him! Shoot him now!”
"Si, capitán!” called the lancers. They drew their rifles and pointed them at Zorro, who replaced the lancer he had knocked off with his hat and steered the cart toward Monastario.
Noticing them, he shouted, “Duck, Padre!” to Felipe.
Felipe did.
The lancers shot the bullets, but as usual, they always missed Diego.
He pulled back on the reins, and the horses stopped immediately.
Zorro jumped from the cart. His booted feet touched the ground. Once stabilizing himself, he drew his sword and dashed toward Monastario.
The bullets scared Monastario’s horse. It threw its rider and took off at a full gallop.
Jumping to his feet, Monastario drew his own sword. He and Zorro became involved in an intense sword duel. The clashing of blades echoed in the air. Monastario called to the lancers, “Shoot him! Shoot him now!”
One lancer fumbled around with his gun, but instead of shooting at Zorro, he shot at Monastario. The bullet barely missed the comandante’s face and hit a tree trunk, scaring some squirrels.
"Estupido!” Monastario shouted as Zorro backed him up to the tree that had been shot. “Don’t shoot me! Shoot Zorro!”
“Right, comandante!” said the lancer, and he reshot the gun.
The bullet flew toward Diego and tore through his shirt sleeve, barely missing his arm. It landed on the ground.
Flinching, Diego dropped his sword and reached for his arm. He checked to make sure he hadn’t been wounded.
That gave Monastario time to make a run for it.
Diego’s sleeve was torn, but he wasn’t bleeding. Sighing with relief, he let his arm go. “That was way too close.” He saw Monastario running away and asked, “Where’re you going, coward? Are you scared of just one man?” Putting up his sword, he drew his whip and snapped it forward. The whip wrapped around Monastario’s chest and upper arms, stopping him.
Zorro pulled, and Monastario flew backward. He landed on his back, in between the hero’s boots.
Focusing on Monastario’s face, Zorro said, “I would love to continue this game, capitán, but I’m wanted somewhere else. Adios!” With that, he snatched the keys from Monastario’s belt and released him.
Monastario reached for his saber, but Zorro was too fast.
He jerked the sword out of its case and stabbed Monastario’s cape with its tip. The sword went through the cape and bit into the earth, leaving Monastario trapped.
He pulled on the cape, but it didn’t budge.
Zorro and a few of Monastario’s men laughed at the sight of the fallen comandante.
He turned red and shouted, “Lancers, shoot him!” but the lancers were too busy laughing. Now was the perfect time for Diego to escape.
As he rushed back to the cart, he picked up his hat and put it on his head. Smiling, he jumped into the cart and unlocked Felipe’s cuffs, releasing him.
Felipe said, ”Gracias, Zorro!”
Zorro nodded. He whistled for Tornado, and his horse dashed to him. Zorro helped Felipe onto his back and mounted Tornado. He looked back at the padre and said, “You might want to hang on.”
Felipe grabbed his shoulders.
Tornado trotted forward, but Zorro stopped him at Monastario, who glared.
“Until next time, comandante..." Zorro said. Drawing his sword, he carved a Z into Monastario’s cape and smirked. Putting up the sword, he gave a swipe of his hat and kicked Tornado forward.
They galloped toward a hill in the setting sun.
Monastario remained trapped, listening to his laughing men.
On top of the hill, Tornado reared and waved his hooves. Once back on four legs, he took off down the hill, and he and Don Diego de la Vega vanished from sight.
***
Monastario returned to the cuartel late that evening, exhausted. He was covered from head to toe in mud. Not only had Zorro beaten him again, but he also left a mark in his cape.
Monastario thought, Maybe my spirit will be lifted if I check in on Sergeant Garcia guarding de la Vega. Therefore, he returned to where he had seen Diego that morning, hoping his carriage would still be there. Instead of a carriage, though, he saw Sergeant Garcia fast asleep against a barrel. Wine bottles surrounded his ankles.
At the sight of him, Monastario clenched his fists and shouted, “SERGEANT GARCIA!” at the top of his lungs.
Garcia shuffled in his sleep. He turned onto his side and said, “No, comandante, I don’t want to pet the pretty pony.”
Monastario approached him and crossed his arms.
For a few seconds, there was silence. Then Sergeant Garcia’s eyes fluttered open, and he asked, ”Comandante?” falling to the ground.
"Estupido!” Monastario shouted. “You were supposed to guard Diego de la Vega!” He stomped his foot. ”Estupido, estupido!"
“Why are you so grumpy, comandante?” Garcia asked. “Did that rascal Zorro beat you again?”
"Estupido!” Monastario yelled. He brought his hands to his face and sat down, shoving his sword to the ground.
Garcia stared. Eventually, he burst out laughing and sang, ”The comandante can’t defeat The Fox. The comandante can’t defeat The Fox, oh yeah,” throughout the night in Pueblo de Los Ángeles’s cuartel.
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