As always, I own nothing and I make no profit. However the people who DO have put out the DVD in region 1, and I am very thankful. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who made the release possible. And - ooh! Hey! My copy has been shipped! :) To celebrate, I'll publish a chapter a day until it arrives.

Jan 6, 1814

Cold. Felipe was so cold. He curled in on himself and pulled the blanket tight - And realized why it must be so cold. Diego.

Shivering, Felipe scrambled to his feet and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. The window was open. In the darkness he could make out the shape of Diego, sitting up but quiet, not struggling.

"I'm all right," Diego said softly. "It wasn't a spell. I just needed some fresh air."

Felipe pulled the window shut and went to the wardrobe for a couple of extra blankets. He covered Diego with one. If it had been light enough to see the words, he would have said that catching a chill would strain Diego's heart more than 'stale air.' But it was dark, and Felipe was still too sleepy to quarrel. He sat in the big chair and pulled the second blanket over himself.

"I'm sorry about the cold. If you wanted to go back to your room...I'm not sick enough to need a guard every night."

Felipe counted. Eight days since the last bad spell. Eight? Yes, really. But he wasn't leaving. Felipe shook his head.

"Light a lamp, then. It's close enough to morning."

Felipe lit the lamp. The warmth was lovely on his hands. In the light he checked Diego's color, just to be sure he was all right.

"Did you remember to leave hay in your shoes last night?" Diego asked.

Felipe grinned and shook his head. "I'm not such a little child."

Diego pretended to look regretful. "It's just as well," he said. "Your present wouldn't have fit in your shoe."

Felipe's brows rose. "A present for me?"

"It's here, under the bed," Diego pointed.

Inexplicably shy, Felipe hesitated.

"Go on," Diego urged gently.

Bunching the blanket around his shoulders, Felipe crouched down and felt under the bed. He found something at once: Long and hard and wrapped in cotton cloth. Carefully, Felipe scooted back into the light and unwound the covering. For a long moment he could only stare. It was a new musket, smoothbore, imported at least from Mexico.

"It's a fowler," Diego said softly. "I thought we could go hunting. I think I'm well enough to give it a try."

Gulping, Felipe looked up. "Hunting? You and me?"

"Well...Father or Gilberto will surely insist on going, too. But still - "

"No, that will be fine," Felipe protested. "It's wonderful. Thank you!" He ran a finger along the silken wood of the stock. It shone like gold. "It's very extravagant."

"It isn't. What do I spend money on? Books and clothes and chemicals." Diego shrugged. "We didn't get anything like this until we were fifteen, but you have much more responsibility than we did. It's a reasonable gift."

Felipe gave him a dubious look.

"It's true. With what we got up to, do you think Father would have trusted us armed and unsupervised? But you are very serious and careful." He pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. "I admit...I did want to spoil you a little. I never meant for you to have a hard life."

What a thing to say! "A hard life? I don't have a hard life. The sergeant in town - he is an orphan, you know. Raised in an orphanage. He is alone. He has no family. And Victoria? Her father went off and got killed and her brothers left her."

"And even great burdens are not so terrible if you are alone?" Diego asked.

Felipe looked down at his hands. Then he said, "Anyway, I don't want an easy life. Just a good one."

"Forgive me. I don't understand."

"Zorro doesn't have an easy life. And he isn't a saint - he is only Gilberto. But he is accomplishing something important. Something worth doing."

"Ah." Diego nodded. "Yes. Something worth doing, indeed...as sad as it is that the pueblo needs Zorro." He paused. "Felipe, do you still dislike him so much?"

Felipe shrugged a single shoulder. "He's so selfish. And so impatient. And so snooty. But he isn't mean anymore. And maybe he was never as rotten as he could have been."

"He shouldn't have been rotten at all. Wouldn't have been, if I could only have made him understand."

Felipe shook his head. "You couldn't make him be reasonable." And then, because that was ungenerous, "He's changed, though."

"He really hasn't," Diego protested.

"He really has. Being very afraid of something, something real...it gave him perspective. It made him grow up. He doesn't have time to be petty anymore."

Diego shook his head. "I think Zorro has more to do with that. As Zorro he has...more power than he ever wanted and responsibility he can't look away from. I admit it has settled him. But his nature hasn't changed."

There was no point in arguing about this. Diego couldn't believe the worst of his brother, not even in hindsight. And he shouldn't. Gilberto was more than kind and patient with Diego. He was calm and encouraging when Diego was afraid and exhausted from a bad spell. He was amazingly good at pausing to fiddle with something when Diego needed to rest and get his breath. For Diego he was brave and steady in the face of what scared him most. He protected his family and comforted his father and kept track of all the pueblo's problems too. "I don't dislike him anymore."

They sat and talked until it was time to get dressed for church. When they came into the main part of the house, the table was set with only one place: atole and sliced melon for Diego.

"I would rather not," Diego said.

Felipe shrugged. "Might as well. Your father will make you. Anyway, you have forgiveness for it."

Diego sat down, but didn't touch the food. "It doesn't help. If I get faint...eating won't stop it."

"It's the kneeling that's the trouble. You could talk to Father Benit - "

"I do not want a dispensation for that, too!"

Felipe sat down across from Diego. "Small, regular meals. Every day. No exceptions."

Diego ate. Reluctantly and with a show of bad grace, but he ate. Gilberto came out in a few minutes and kept them company until it was time to leave for church.

When they arrived in town, the square was packed with people. Although it was nearly time for the service, no one seemed to have gone inside. Everyone stood in small groups, talking urgently.

Don Alejandro said something very softly. Felipe thought it might be a profanity.

"I wonder what's going on?" Diego asked curiously.

Pepe and Juan saw them and hurried over. "Patron, Patron!" Pepe shouted. "Zorro has attacked the mission!"

Diego laughed. "I don't think so. What would that accomplish?"

Gilberto rolled his eyes. "Never mind why, how would he do it?"

"It's true," Juan said, taking off his hat and squinting into the light. "Zorro has attacked the mission." His report was more coherent than Pepe's but just as absurd. Since the vineyard was several miles from the mission proper, there was a tiny settlement out there where a couple of families of neophytes lived year round and took care of the vines. According to reports, Zorro had attacked the cluster of adobe huts last night, breaking things, stealing some food, nothing of value - they hadn't had anything of value. "We can't think, any of us, what Zorro could be angry at out there."

Gilberto took a breath to speak, but froze as Diego's fingers slid around his arm and clamped tight. "Why do they think it was Zorro?" he asked curiously.

Juan blinked at that. "Well, they saw him, Don Diego. And there are Zs all over everything...they say..." He paused, thinking. "Half the town is demanding to know what those particular neophytes could have done to bring down Zorro's wrath - or even if it was the friars somehow...and the other half is calling for Zorro's head because he has gone insane."

Don Alejandro hopped down from the carriage. "All right. Enough of this. It is a holy day. We are going to church. We are not going to stand around and speculate on gossip." He said it loudly enough that the people nearby could hear. When he swept toward the church, his own people all followed.

He paused at the church steps where the alcalde was pontificating on the evils of the outlaw Zorro to a merchant, the blacksmith and a very grumpy Don Roberto. "Good morning, Senor Alcalde!"

Surprised, Ramone lost his train of thought and blinked. "What? Oh. Good morning."

"Good morning, Alejandro," Don Roberto said quickly. "Shall we all go inside?"

Right after that the rest of the crowd began to trickle in.

Throughout the service, Diego kept a hand on his brother's arm. Quelling. Reminding. Reassuring. Gilberto - poor Gilberto. He was all but quivering. When the service finally ended he turned to Diego and said, "You're pale. I should take you home."

Diego smiled and said briskly, "Nonsense. I feel fine. You know this mild weather agrees with me. The Lady's Guild has made tamales for the party. I want to stay for a while." Outside, though, he pulled his brother aside and whispered, "You want to come charging into town and - What? Challenge Ramone? Demand an explanation?"

"You know it's him!"

"Quietly, quietly. Of course it is. So what? Half the lancers weren't in church and they're not out combing the countryside, they're on the roof over there...and there, by the livery. It's a trap. Tonight: in the darkness, with proper precautions and reconnaissance, and maybe a diversion waiting in case you need help getting away."

Gilberto pulled his arm free. "I can't - " he began.

"What is more trustworthy? Me or your temper? It's your temper he's counting on. You know it is." He put his hand on Gilberto's arm again, this time it seemed to be for balance. "Here is a better idea: that little steading, we need to see what happened there. In the spirit of the Day of the Kings, surely it is appropriate to take them some supplies, those poor people! food, blankets, nails, sweets? I don't know. I'll speak to Father. Just be sure you go with them."

Gilberto sighed. "And why not you?"

"Because I will be here finding out what Mendoza and Victoria have heard. And because when I'm done I will go back to the house and prepare a little surprise for tonight. In case you need it."

Don Alejandro seized on Diego's idea. He made such a fuss of it that the Alcalde - for all his protests that surely the mission could take care of his own - was shamed into chipping in a sack of meal and some blankets in the spirit of 'civic goodwill.'

Diego let Victoria go on for a long time about Zorro, alternately blaming the alcalde for some kind of trick and worrying that Zorro might really be up to something obscure. After a while he began to steer the conversation...but his topics seemed random and Felipe couldn't guess where he was going with any of it.

With Mendoza Diego was much more direct. Even as he handed over a cup of wine he was asking why, if Zorro had attacked the mission, all the lancers were skulking around town instead of out looking for him.

"But Don Diego, surely he will attack town next!"

"Why? Have our taxes been raised recently?"

"Well, no. But the alcalde says..."

"What does the alcalde say?"

Mendoza shifted is feet. "He says...that Zorro will attack the town. I don't know why. It all seems very odd to me," he added miserably. "What did the mission ever to do to Zorro? Or some little neophyte Indian families?" He shrugged. "But if he is attacking them, he might attack us for no reason. I guess."

They returned home while the picnic was still going on. Diego slipped down to the cave, but he was finished in the lab before Felipe was finished currying and feeding Toronado.

"What is it?" Felipe asked.

"Three bundles, linked explosives. These are long fuse, these are medium fuse, these are short fuse."

Felipe grinned.

Diego threw an arm over Felipe's shoulder and tucked him close. "I think you like explosions a little too much."

"Everybody loves a big noise."

"Oddly, that is true. I would love to make some fireworks...but it would be a bad idea to advertise the fact that explosives have become a hobby of mine."

"So disappointing..." Felipe was laughing, but he meant it.

It was late afternoon before Gilberto and Don Alejandro returned from their visit to San Gabriel's vineyards. Don Alejandro only paused at the hacienda for a few minutes before continuing on to Don Sebastian's.

Gilberto also wanted to go back out immediately, but Diego would have none of it. "Black," he murmured darkly, "is only an advantage at night."

"You can't possibly expect me to just sit..."

"No, I don't expect that. Go out to the courtyard, take Felipe with you. I'll be right there."

When Diego appeared a few minutes later he was carrying two swords. He tossed one - so neatly, so casually - to Gilberto, who caught it and promptly set it down. "No. Absolutely not."

Diego rolled his eyes. "Not for me. For him. You're teaching him."

Gilberto blinked in surprise and looked at Felipe. "Is that wise? If he knows how, he may think it is necessary to."

"I'm not suggesting he carry a sword. But in this family...It is a skill he's going to need someday. When someday comes...he must be brilliant."

"Flattery, distraction..."

"True, though," Diego said gently. "All of it. I do need you for this."

Felipe looked from one to the other, holding his breath.

"Gilberto, you know I would do this myself if I could."

"And guilt. Nicely played."

"You cannot go tearing into town."

Gilberto closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Felipe, come here. No, leave the sword. We are not nearly there yet. First we must talk about your feet. Yes, how tedious, I know. But it will be a while before we get to the fun part and start waving the sword around. This is going to be tedious, you know. Horribly dull. You might not last the first lesson."

Felipe lifted his chin. "I am more patient than you are."

"True, actually. Hm. Perhaps that will help. Stand here. Your feet, not so close together. Balance is key. You'd be surprised, waving a heavy metal baton around, it's easy to knock yourself over."

"Can you - "

"That is a habit we must create at once." Suddenly, Gilberto was serious. "During lessons you must not talk. When you are dueling, you will not be able to talk. You must get into the habit, it must become automatic, it must never occur to you to have a conversation once you have drawn a sword."

Felipe wondered if Gilberto was being an ass or if this was a test to see if he would follow orders.

"I'm quite serious. No hesitation. No extraneous movement. No confusion or question, ever, about what your hands are for while you are engaged."

Oh. That was...that was convincing. But. But.

"Can you fingerspell with your left hand?" Diego asked suddenly.

Felipe lifted his left hand and spelled out, "Badly." It was awkward and a hair slow. He didn't like the manual alphabet and never had, and it was worse with his off hand.

Gilberto nodded. "Yes. All right. It will be better if he can ask questions." He picked up the sword he had set aside. "You are facing someone with his weapon in his hand. And so your right hand is not for talking. Ever."

Felipe nodded. He spelled out, "I promise," to make the point.

"All right. Let's begin. Your feet. Bring your right foot half a step forward."

The lesson continued for most of the afternoon. Although Gilberto never put down his practice sword, Felipe didn't even get to touch his. It was all toes forward and shift your weight and don't cross and not so large. Tedious, Gilberto had been right.

But every time Felipe had looked over at Diego who was seated in the sun, Diego had looked pleased. And, of course, even a tedious lesson in swordsmanship from Zorro was still a lesson from Zorro. Felipe could tell his grandchildren someday. Shame he couldn't tell the boys in town about it. Or Pepe. Or...anyone.

A little after sundown Don Alejandro returned to join them for supper. "So?" Gilberto asked. "What news?"

"The men of California are disorganized and quarrelsome, but that isn't news," he answered sourly. "Although in this case...if they could accomplish anything, they would no doubt make the situation worse. Don Emilio - the Pascal boy - he was trying to gather a search party to hunt down Zorro."

"How did you talk him out of it?" Diego asked.

"I? That young hothead will not listen to me. His father never could control him. But no, Sebastian managed to confuse the issue enough to halt any coherent action."

"Oh?" Diego asked.

"Yes. He is convinced that it isn't Zorro who attacked the mission, but one of the wild natives with a plan to cause conflict in the pueblo."

"That's mad," Diego said.

"Well, yes. But you know how he is when he gets a strange idea in his head."

"They aren't always such strange ideas. This one seems reasonable enough," Gilberto said. "Whoever attacked the vineyard, it wasn't Zorro."

"A wild Indian?" Diego asked indignantly. "Are we just pulling explanations out of a hat now? The local Indians aren't fond of horses and they do not ride like Spaniards. Was the horse that attacked the mission shod? Was a sword involved in this adventure anywhere? It takes quite a while to learn to use one of those, I hear."

"Oh?" Gilberto asked irritably. "So you think Zorro did it?"

Diego laid his fork aside. "Don't be stupid." He sat back in the chair.

Don Alejandro gave Gilberto a quelling look and said softly, "Diego? Are you all right?"

"I am quarreling myself into indigestion," he answered. "Shall we talk about something else?"

"Those orange trees I've had my eye on aren't coming back. I think it's time to give up and replace them."

Gilberto nodded. "How many are there?"

"Almost a dozen. Not many, actually. I thought I might put Diego in charge of that. He was always good with trees."

"Certainly, Father."

"Better him than me," Gilberto added. "Give me cattle any day, but trees..."

Felipe couldn't help noticing that Diego didn't eat anything else. While he looked uncomfortable, though, he didn't look ill, so he didn't say anything. No one was surprised when, at the end of the meal, he complained of a little dizziness and asked Gilberto to give him a hand to his room.

He let Gilberto settle him in the chair and pull up the footstool. "Stay a moment."

"Diego, I have waited all day."

"And you will have to keep waiting until Father goes into his office. Anyway, we need to talk."

Gilberto folded his arms. "Very well."

"You should take Felipe with you. This is certainly a trap."

"I can get past the lancers in the dark. Besides, a large diversion so close to town, that will frighten everyone for no good reason."

"Well, what then? You know they'll be waiting."

"For a start, I thought I'd let the horses out of the livery stable. A little chaos goes a long way."

Diego smiled slightly. "Not a bad start, at that. Senora Reyes' pigs as well?"

"Oh, that's right. She has quite a few now."

"But getting in is not getting out. He lost you last time. He will take no chances this time."

"He didn't take chances last time. I was just better."

"Yes. You were. You are. But you are arrogant - " he stopped and took a deep breath.

Felipe went to the desk and began to prepare the evening medicine. It was a couple of hours early, but he didn't like Diego's color.

Gilberto had seen it, too. "If I take Felipe, you'll be alone. You're not feeling well."

"I felt worse than this most of the day most days last summer. I'm fine." He shifted restlessly. Felipe suspected that he wanted to stand up and open the window, but that would be too revealing. "You think you're going to search his office. You're not. He knows better by now...if there is anything incriminating, he'll be carrying it on him. ...Victoria has three guests, all of them men, all of them traveling alone, so nothing is narrowed down. You're searching their rooms. If you don't think you'll need the second distraction, you can work out a signal between you. Or - here. My watch. Forty minutes or so should be enough time. He can hold the explosives until you're late." He took the cup Felipe handed him and drained it with a show of compliance. "I'll wait here. Right here."

So. What could they do? They went.

Z

"We'll meet on the west side of town, down in that dry wash. I'll carry the 'distraction' - I don't want you caught with them if you come across a patrol," Gilberto said as they descended into the cave. "Although...probably there won't be one. They want Zorro to come into the trap and they aren't subtle."

They worked out the details while Gilberto changed and Felipe saddled Toronado. The horse was affectionate, nuzzling his hand shamelessly and begging for turnips. Zorro, taking the reins from Felipe, nodded his approval but hesitated before leading the horse from the stall. "Do you think he's all right? Really?"

All right? As adept as Diego had become at ignoring and compensating and coping and enduring, the inescapable truth was he wasn't all right, and he wasn't ever going to be. But Felipe didn't say that. Instead, he said, "He'll behave himself. He'll sit and wait until we get back."

It was going to be another cold night. Felipe took a jacket along with the matches and covered lantern and rode out on Sunshine. He kept to the road - no point in engaging in suspicious behavior before it was necessary. If there were patrols and if they stopped him, well, he was only the damaged servant of the de le Vegas, the one who looked after the invalid. Maybe he was going to town because they'd run out of medicine. In any case he couldn't talk so he couldn't explain his errand any more than he could be up to anything dangerous.

The night was cold, and Sunshine didn't like it. Felipe wasn't fond of being cold either. But he did like sneaking out with Zorro, he really did. He made a wide circle around the pueblo and settled himself behind a rocky outcrop in the wash. He lit the little lantern and hid the light and settled in to wait. Zorro left before him and rode faster, but he might not stay to the road and he would surely scout the town before giving Felipe the explosives and finalizing the plan.

He was squatting with his back to the rock and his hands cupped around the warm lantern when Toronado, as silent as a shadow, came up the wash. Zorro dismounted so he could speak softly as he handed over the bundle of little explosives. "Diego was right. They are watching the cuartel. But listen, I think I want more time. Two hours. And I am leaving Toronado with you. At...one o'clock, set the medium and long fuse distractions and head around to the north of town. When you are above the church, send Toronado toward town and ride straight home."

"What about the short-fuse explosives?"

"Don't - no, wait. Give them back to me. They should contribute to the chaos nicely." And with a wave he was gone, on foot for the quarter mile back to town.

It was a long, quiet wait. Cold, too. The sky was clear and the stars were bright. It had been over a month since the last astronomy lesson, and the stars had moved a little. Felipe kept himself occupied finding different constellations, trying to figure out of that bright star was Mars...

He checked the watch every ten minutes, and at last it was time. He set the distraction and led - as quickly as he carefully could - north along the wash. He was just leading Sunshine and Toronado up the bank when the first series of sharp explosions ripped through the quiet darkness behind them. He swung onto Sunshine's back as soon as the reached the flat stretch and headed for the north side of town. He kept the dark horse between himself and Los Angeles.

There was yelling. Dogs barked. Lights flashed. A frantic burst of riders ran west, toward the noise. A few minutes later another burst rode out for the east. Odd. Perhaps they were suspicious of the noise. Well. The long way home, then.

Felipe urged Sunshine faster and turned into the fallow vegetable garden that belonged to the parish church. He couldn't see any people moving from here, but he slowed his approach anyway. He would release Toronado on the other side of the gate -

Toronado tossed his head suddenly, skipping uncertainly. Felipe released him at once: the recall whistle, though he hadn't heard anything. Toronado raced across the soft ground and leaped the low fence. So. That was done, then. Felipe turned his face toward the north-east and watched for a trace of movement. Now to choose the best way home...

He was less than a mile from the pueblo when he heard the third set of distractions, the short fused ones, go of somewhere behind him. That engendered another round of yelling and dog barking and points of moving light. Felipe swung far to the north before turning Sunshine's nose toward home.

It was late - dark and so cold that his breath was clouding - when he got back to the barn. Sunshine needed rubbing down and reassuring. When he had finished bedding him down Felipe slipped quietly into the house.

Diego was still awake, sitting up in bed with a single candle. Gilberto was with him - wearing house slippers, Zorro's pants and an unbuttoned cotton shirt. Felipe hurried to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge, but he could already tell Diego wasn't sick. He'd spent countless nights sitting up with suffering and countless nights sitting up with worrying and he could tell the difference. "I'm sorry I'm late." He said (broadly, because the room was very dim).

"You were being careful. I approve of that." But he sounded weary...

There was no use dwelling on that, or letting Diego know Felipe had noticed. "So?" he demanded, turning to Gilberto. "What did you find?"

"I will tell you tomorrow. No, don't argue. Dawn is in less than five hours and Diego hasn't had any sleep. Tomorrow after breakfast is soon enough. I'm going to bed." He was pleased and smug, so it was surely good news.

~tbc