Chapter 2 ~ Enter Zorro

December 5, 1821

Diego waited until his guard fell asleep and then made a break for it. Pulling the knife out of his sleeve, he began to cut the ropes. It was very dull but better than nothing. Fear of his captors waking up motivated him to move faster. He felt the tension release when he broke through. Untying his feet was easy. He then focused on getting out of the cave without making a sound. He made it to the entrance of the cave before he made his first mistake. A twig that he mistook as part of the cave floor snapped under his weight. This cause Marco to stir. Diego froze where he stood. Marco turned over but, within seconds, his breathing evened out. Diego let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Once outside, Diego searched in vain for the horses. Under the light of the crescent moon he couldn't make out their hoof prints. The ground appeared to be one big black abyss. There was no sign of them anywhere, not even a sound. With each passing minute his hope of finding them dwindled until it vanished. Breaking a large branch off a nearby bush, he managed to start a small fire for warmth and let sleep overtake him.

December 6, 1822

Diego felt the cold morning breeze blowing over him. The embers he had going to keep him warm had died down with the morning. Opening his eyes he listened for any signs of his captors. Knowing they expected him to do what any sane person would, which was to get as far away as they could, he stayed close to the cave. This way they would go out looking for him but he would still be there. Peering out from under the bushes, he studied the ground for hoof prints. He could see the new prints intermixed with the old. The bandidos had left at some point that morning. "I must have been more tired than I thought to not wake up when they rode out." He thought to himself. "Must be all those late nights as Zorro."

With the horses gone Diego set out on the long trek back home. He knew the way, but it would be night again before he made it back. Starting out, the cold morning air felt like it was trying to turn his skin to ice. The dew on the ground had frozen and it clung to his boots and pants as he walked along. Riding Tornado in this weather would've been perfect. As morning faded into noon the temperature changed with it. The sun melted the ice, and Diego's stomach reminded him that he'd had nothing to eat since yesterday's breakfast. The dew seemed to evaporate all at once as he kept putting one foot in front of the other. As the hours krept on the sun didn't make much of a difference in the temperature. His one comfort was that it was above freezing. He felt his throat drying up from the cold and lack of humidity. When he couldn't stand it any longer he took a detour to a stream he found refreshing during the heat of the summer months. Foliage flourished around the clear waters. You had to be strong to make it through the hot summers and the foliage was no exception. The thorns grabbed at his clothes as he made his way to the water's edge. The not quite freezing water did the job and soothed his dry throat. His hands didn't appreciate the temperature of the water but it felt good to have them clean. This stop added time to his journey but he felt it was worth every minute as he drank his fill. Determined he would get home as soon as possible, he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Even when his muscles cried for rest he kept going. He exerted himself enough that sweat trickled its way down his face. He kept moving, knowing that if he stopped the cold could get to him even easier. Finally, as the sun set and the temperatures dropped once again, he stumbled into his home. Sweat and dirt had dried onto his face and hair. His clothes, tattered and covered in mud from the stream. He did not look himself when he found his way into the parlor where his father and guests were. He looked rugged. Almost all traces of the pacifist Diego were gone.

"Diego! Are you all right?" Jasmine asked before anyone. She and Emily had moved their dolls to be out of his way as he entered the room.

"I feel better than I must look." He said reassuring them while glancing down at his ripped and stained clothes. "All I need… (he yawned) …is a bath, food, and sleep." When his eyes rested on Carmen and Angelica he felt his blood pressure rise.

"Tell the servants in the kitchen to prepare a hot meal and have someone prepare a hot bath." Alejandro told a nearby servant. "Diego, my son, sit down here." The old Don felt a new glimmer of hope thinking about how much his son endured. Perhaps there was De La Vega blood in him after all.

"Did you send the money?" Diego asked as he sat down in the chair his father pointed to.

"Yes. I didn't expect you back otherwise." Diego hid the annoyance he felt at the fact that his father didn't have more faith in him. But then again, why would he? Diego played the part of an uninterested busybody well. Bernardo, his faithful servant, was the only one who knew why Diego no longer carried a sword. It surprised him how much everyone bought into his new personality right away.

"I had my doubts myself there for a moment." He began to carry himself as the version of Diego he'd become.

"We're glad you're alright." Angelica's genuine concern showed. In that moment Diego forgave her for whatever her part in his misfortune had been.

"Gracias." He looked over at his childhood friend. "Carmen, while I was there I was told to tell my father to ask you why I had been captured. They didn't enlighten me." A flash of anger crossed Diego's face. Carmen fidgeted with her hands and she looked down.

"I… I'm sorry Diego. Everything was all prearranged. I… I was to get you into the tavern and they… well… they were to... It was a test to see if you are capable of helping us with something." She added that last part, hoping he would be more curious than angry.

"Help you with what?" He folded his arms across his chest.

"I'll explain once you've had time to rest. I hope you're not angry with me." She glanced up at him, not even attempting to hide how sorry she felt.

"Explain now." Diego said as he stood up with his fists clenched.

"Diego, please." Carmen looked down to hide her shame. Tears started to form, a tactic she'd learned long ago.

"What about the money?" Diego asked, his vice more even. He was angry with her but he didn't see that any good would come of it now.

"They were to take it if you hadn't escaped so as not to arouse suspicion and to give it back when they brought you back." A tear fell and she dabbed her eyes. "We wanted it to look as real as possible for anyone who wasn't directly involved." Jasmine came over to comfort her mother.

"And that included me?" His tone of voice elevated. Diego was no stranger to Carmen's theatrics.

"If you had known it was fake then it wouldn't have been a test. When did you escape?" Carmen forced her voice to be more calm.

"Last night. It took me this long to get back because I had to walk." Carmen looked sick to her stomach. "They stole the money didn't they?" Carmen only nodded. She felt ill. Don Alejandro went pale. Diego tried to conceal the anger he felt. "I'm going to retire to my room. I need to get some sleep. I may know where they went so first thing in the morning I'll set out." Anger flashed in Carmen's eyes and all guilt she felt for what she had done vanished.

"You're not going to do anything about them stealing from your father? What about the other Dons who contributed?" Carmen said as she too stood up, hardly concealing her rage. "You're not worth the money we raised."

"I can't do anything about it right now. First thing in the morning I'll report it to Sergeant Garcia. He can send out his lancers. They're more qualified than I am in these situations. And need I remind you that none of this would've happened if you hadn't set everyone up for it! I've spent the last 24 hours being threatened at gunpoint, tied up, thrown down, and then I had to walk all day just to get back! So forgive me for wanting to rest! I don't know what kind of half wit scheme you have in mind but leave me and my father out of it!" It was very rare for Diego to lose his temper. Alejandro liked his son's display.

"Really Carmen, you should be grateful Diego is taking this so calmly. As soon as Sergeant Garcia and his lancers get involved you could find yourself facing the judicial system as a thief for your little prank." Out of respect for her parents Alejandro forced himself to stay calm.

"You wouldn't!" Diego noticed the panic in Carmen's eyes.

"We were friends at one time. I won't rush to press charges out of respect for that. However, I make no promises one way or the other."

"Diego, you have to believe me! It wasn't supposed to work out like this. We came here to help Las Angeles. This was the first stage. I wanted your help with something. But talk is cheap, we needed to know what kind of man you are."

"Let me assure you that I want no part of it. Now, if you will please excuse me!" Diego turned to his father and lowered his voice. "Good night father."

"Good night my son." Diego summoned Bernardo and they went to his room. Carmen's glare didn't escape his notice.

"Bernardo get Tornado ready." The mute servant objected. "Yes I know I haven't had a proper night's rest but since when does that stop me?" After the costume was on he raced off across the fields. He felt the wind on his face as Tornado galloped on. The distance it had taken him all day to travel, Tornado covered in a matter of minutes. Once the cave was in sight he dismounted and motioned for Tornado to hide in the few shrubs. There, in the cave, he found Francisco counting the money.

He looked around and on finding a rock he threw it in the opposite direction of where he was. As he had suspected Marco came out to investigate the sound. Coming up behind him, Zorro knocked him unconscious. He then turned his attention to Francisco. "I do not think all that money belongs to you." Said Zorro as he smiled. He did not think it would be too difficult to get the money back. Besides, the foolish man had left his gun at least ten feet from him.

"Zorro!" Each man pulled out his sword.

"At your service." They fought throughout the cave, jumping on rocks, dodging blows, and each trying to keep the other from escaping. Francisco scanned the ground and saw a place where the ground went down by three inches. He began walking towards Zorro. Unaware of the danger Zorro stepped back. When he stepped back for the third time there was no ground where he placed his foot. The three inch difference was enough to cause him to stumble. Francisco took the opportunity and struck.