Almost Lost-Part Two


He'd seen it, he'd seen the bird again. Without thinking he set off after it in heavy pursuit. His eyes fixed on his prey, he ducked through a canyons entrance and straightened up just in time to be knocked off his horse by a rope, strung between two trees that stood at either side of the entrance like sentries.

The breath whooshed out of him as he thumped to the ground, flat on his back. His horse slowed in front of him, he heard it whinny as if in response.

Then there was a foot on his chest, belonging to a swarthy bandito, who pointed a gun at his head and hissed, "Not a word."

Ricardo watched as two others revealed themselves; another man and a slip of a woman. She was more than passably pretty, and there was something about her that caused the breath to pause on its way to Ricardo's mouth. She just possessed something that made you stop thinking.

Just as he'd cleared his head, Diego rode in and Ricardo watched helplessly as the banditos played their game. Diego staggered, and as he did, the girl raced off as if to fetch something; she returned with two sets of manacles and chain. Ricardo suspected that those manacles had formerly chained their captors.

Ricardo and Diego were escorted to a tree, then chained on opposite sides. Ricardo was facing away from the tree, but Diego looked towards it; because of Diego's lack of balance, it kept pulling taut on Ricardo's side.

"Where is your money?" The girl finally spoke, frustrated, as they finished going through Diego's pockets and saddlebags. "I don't understand this—he has nothing! Not even a watch!"

"Search the other!" The swarthy one commanded to the other man, and soon his fingers were digging through Ricardo's pockets.

"I don't have anything," Ricardo drawled, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Aha, got…something," his hand emerged from Ricardo's pants pocket with a hairpin. In disgust, he cast it to the ground. Ricardo watched it land and noted its position, hoping the man wouldn't shift it when he moved. "No, he doesn't have anything either. Madre di dios, what a waste!"

At that, the girl came over, her brilliant eyes flashing.
"How is it that you have nothing, eh? You are rich! Anyone can tell that by your clothes, your horses!" She spat at Ricardo's feet and stalked away, anger in her every step.

"We take the horses, then, eh?" The second man asked, and both swore at him.

"We cannot! Stolen horses are too easily traced." The girl stalked back. "Looks as if you've won. Just remember that there is no key."

Ricardo had kept mostly silent up to then, out of consideration for Diego. Now, he spoke. "Do you think this is all?"

"What do you mean?"

"You fear no retribution?"

"By the time someone comes across you and you are freed, we will be long gone."

"It is not that easy…have you ever heard of the Fox?"

"Hmm?"

"El Zorro will save us," Ricardo whispered the words, but he had no doubt that they had heard him as they left, not looking back now as they scrambled off into the rocks, carrying the falcon.

"Diego, wake up!"

An easing of the chains told him that Diego was getting himself back together.

"Are—are you alright?" Diego asked in a strangled voice, obviously still under the effects of the drug.

"Ah, don't worry," Ricardo drawled and his tone took on a bitter sarcasm as he continued. "Don't you know? Zorro will save us!"

"Oh, will he? Ricardo, the sun is very bright." The first part of the sentence Diego said with insolence, the next weakly.

The chain went taut again.

"Diego!" A curse slipped past Ricardo's lips at the feeling.

After a few moments of wiggling, he seemed to succeed in jarring Diego back to consciousness.

"Come back here, you curs!" He shouted, losing his temper and not caring. "What kind of a dirty trick is this? Ampollas percebes azules! Infidels! Cowards!"

"All right, Ricardo! That's enough. Don't you think they're out of hearing range yet?" Diego rasped, accompanying this with a groan. "My head…Ricardo, what did the man find in your pocket?"

"Noth—oh, a hairpin."

He could almost hear the direction Diego's thoughts had to be going in and he blushed, involuntarily.

"…a hairpin?" Suspicion colored the words. "Where did you get a hairpin?"

"Never mind where. It is our only chance of getting out of these things." Ricardo shook his wrists. "Have you suddenly lost faith in my abilities? Now all we have to do is get lower. He threw it on the ground, over there, and I can still see it and if I could just get lower, I could reach it! And then I could free us. Diego?"

A moment's pause. "Let's talk about something else. Why was a hairpin—"

"Diego! What do you mean! I am trying—"

"Ricardo, what would you say if I said that I, Diego de la Vega, was the most fantastic outlaw…"

Ricardo took advantage of the rambling tone of Diego's voice, usually heard only when the man was drunk, and maneuvered himself lower, to grab the hairpin. With half of Diego's weight on the other side, this was no small feat.

Drowning out his friend's voice, he concentrating solely on finding it with his fingers, and almost cried out in relief when he did, the strain was bearing on him so hard. With a grunt, he straightened up again and started to bend the hairpin the correct way. It was much more difficult than usual, as he couldn't see what he was doing.

He felt the chain loosen, took one deep breath, and it went taut again, and this time he had to stop because of the strain.

"Diego?"

"Why was there a hairpin in your pocket? Whose hairpin?"

"What did they give you?" Ricardo snarled back. "I've never seen you act like this, not even that time we took your father's best brandy and you ended up drinking the whole bottle because it wasn't mine so I couldn't have a drop." He told this story animatedly, spreading his hands as much as possible to punctuate how grievously his feelings had been hurt then.

Diego interrupted, completely ignoring Ricardo's ten year old woes. "Whose hairpin?" He bellowed, and yanked hard on his chains. Ricardo, in his surprise, dropped the hairpin. Diego froze.

This time, he helped Ricardo get it.

This time, Ricardo ignored all the angry queries and succeeded in bending the pin; and then in manipulating the lock. He let out an audible sigh of relief when he heard the click.

After another moment, he had both manacles off, and the moment after that, he'd freed Diego, who promptly swayed forward. Ricardo couldn't catch him; because of Diego's positioning, he'd had to crouch to unlock him. Consequently, Diego fell on top of him, a complete deadweight.

Ricardo showed no mercy in shoving him off.


After a few moments Ricardo spent getting his bearings back, he glanced around him, thanking God that they hadn't taken the horses. But...where were the horses?

He got to his feet, saw that Diego was still out of it, and sighed. Bending over, he dragged Diego over to where a tree provided more shade.

Ricardo stripped off his jacket and left it lying beside Diego, as he strode off to find the horses. First things first, he whistled.

Ricardo knew how to whistle, and his horse was trained to come at the sound. He waited a moment, then whistled again, two fingers in his mouth. After a heart stopping moment, his horse finally came into view. "Viajero. Gracias," he gasped, but his horse was in no mood to be caught, and, thinking that Ricardo was in a playful mood, he galloped right past him, leaving Ricardo cursing behind.

"Viajero!" He yelled, turning, and the horse whinnied in reply, turning to face his master, but passing him by once again.

He whistled again, turning wildly to keep his horse in sight, and the sun blinded him for a moment. He turned away from it again, and Viajero came running up, rearing and neighing wildly, and when he did so, Diego's horse came back into sight, at the very edge of the horizon, or so it seemed.

Ricardo knew that Viajero planned to pass him by again, but this time he was prepared, and grabbed the bridle to swing himself up. "Good boy," he murmured, when Viajero reared in protest, meaning to forcibly eject Ricardo from his back. "Come on, boy. Calm down. We have to catch Torcedor. Hi-yah!"

And Ricardo took off in hot pursuit of the other horse, who only ran faster once he realized he was being chased. Ricardo tried the whistle again and Torcedor ignored it.

The sun beat down mercilessly. Ricardo felt the sweat drip down and knew he shouldn't be pushing Viajero like this when it was so hot out. He slowed the horse to a trot, then a walk. It was time to use wits.

Torcedor realized that he wasn't being followed anymore, and Viajero unintentionally aided Ricardo by whinnying to the other horse, who slowed and turned around to face them.

Ricardo eased Viajero forward, wishing he was a better horseman. His father had been so skilled that he could have caught them long ago. Ricardo had long wondered at his father's skill, but now was the first time he truly envied it.

He pictured his father, tall, brown and lean, walking slowly forward, whispering, and the horse he wanted would immediately pay attention. In moments, his father would be astride, no matter how untamed or wild the horse had once been.

"What was it he did?" Ricardo muttered, when his feint didn't work and Torcedor took off again. Ricardo turned Viajero sharply, hoping to cut off Torcedor, but he didn't have to. A piercing whistle came out of nowhere, and Torcedor neighed in joy at the recognition of his master's voice. Viajero noticed that his master was distracted, and reared. Ricardo went flying and hit the ground hard.

He saw stars dancing about in his eyes and the pain in his head was astonishing. He'd bit his lip and tasted the blood as he tried to sit up again. He heard the tell tale sound of hooves, and opened his eyes to see Diego above him.

Ricardo managed to stand up, and saw Diego sway in the saddle.

"Not again," he muttered, barely reaching him before his friend fell.