Through the Eyes of a Fox


Disclaimer: Refer to first chapter.


"Ho, the hacienda! Ho, Don Alejandro!" The cries bring Don Alejandro out into the cool air of the courtyard. Night is falling and it is difficult to make out the group of horsemen at his gates. He recognises one, Angelo, one of the youngest of his vaqueros. "Angelo, what is going on? Who are these people?" Angelo is anxious and his horse jumpy. "I don't know, patron. They came out of one of the canyons and asked me to bring them to you. Don Alejandro..." One of the horsemen pushes past, cutting Angelo off, and into the light comes a swarthy, bold young man, dust-covered, sweat gleaming on the flanks of his horse. His grin is insolent, more of a leer, and he makes little circles in the dust with the tip of the bullwhip in his right hand. "Most esteemed señor, my name is Armando Castillo. We are but poor rancheros heading to the Pueblo de Los Angeles on business." His smile and tone is mocking, and Alejandro bristles at once against it. "What then brings you to my hacienda?" "There is bad weather coming, and we have goods that cannot get wet." He turns as he speaks, sending the lash of his whip out in a wide arc, snapping at something in the circle of shadowy horsemen. And out of the darkness, bound and gagged, surrounded by foes, caught at last, comes the Fox himself. Alejandro's old heart jolts with horror. "Zorro!"

Armando laughs coarsely, flicking the whip around Zorro's legs, forcing him to one knee. "Yes, it is El Zorro. And his horse." Alejandro has already noted Toronado, roped and held between two of Armando's men, in dismay. "And," Armando brags, "his famous whip!" He thrusts it under Alejandro's nose proudly. It was inevitable, perhaps, that Zorro would be caught, but Alejandro cannot stand seeing him in the hands of these ruffians. Armando takes advantage of his stunned silence. "Tomorrow, of course, we shall ride into Los Angeles and claim our reward, but tonight there is a storm coming, and I do not want to spend it with one eye open for this devil's tricks." He punctuates his words by sending Zorro to the dirt again, this time with a kick. His eyebrows raised, Alejandro tears his eyes from Zorro to look at Armando. "And you expect me to grant you accommodation?" Armando laughs again, and Alejandro can see how the humour doesn't reach his eyes, which are flat and cold as stone. "But of course, Don Alejandro, of course! If you turned away the people who captured El Zorro, the magistrado might have something to say about it, eh? Or the commandante? That might be considered unpatriotic...even treasonous." Alejandro glares at Armando, who dismounts and saunters past into the courtyard of his hacienda. "I'm glad you agree, Don Alejandro." The rest of Armando's men begin dismounting also, talking and laughing amongst themselves, and Alejandro wheels around and follows Armando inside, where he finds him looking around in satisfaction. Alejandro stops between him and the hacienda. "I'm sure you and your men will find the stables comfortable enough, Señor Castillo." Armando leers at him. "Of course, Don Alejandro. That will suffice." He follows his men and their prisoner towards the stables, coiling Zorro's whip in his gloved hands.

Alejandro turns to step inside, but is halted by the sound of the whip cracking, and a muffled cry. He turns to see Armando backing into the gloom, his strange eyes fixed on Alejandro, and Zorro struggling to his feet after a heavy blow. "Send out your servants. My men are hungry." Overhead, the clouds are swollen with rain, and thunder is muttering on the hills. Alejandro feels a shiver cross his spine as the group disappear into the night.


Author's Note: I wonder how Zorro can make it out of this one? :P First of a little mini-series, my version of what might happen if Zorro had been caught.

Any reviews or concrit will be welcomed.

Thanks, Taluliaka.