This is the last chapter in the second story arc of this fanfic. I estimate the third one will be around 10-15 chapters long, so this story is slowly but surely reaching its end.
THE RIGHT TURN OF THE ROAD
Chapter 35
The rain was still pouring down and making it difficult to see the road, but Gabriel didn't even notice that. He would have still stumbled had the weather been clear; his thoughts were everywhere else but where he was going.
Gabriel wiped water from his eyes and cursed the rain. How could this all happen to him? Just as his life had been decent, everything had fallen to ruin around him. He had again lost everything! It wasn't fair!
His anger kept him warm and gave him the strength to keep marching onwards. His thoughts circled around the hatred he felt for everyone, and he kept gritting his teeth and grunting like an angry bull. However, the burn slowly faded and left him feeling spent and empty. There was no enemy for him this time, no Zorro or Raymond to blame for what had happened to him.
At some point he stopped to lean against a large boulder that stood by the side of the road.
"Damn this all to hell!" he growled and slammed his hands against the boulder. The surface was wet and slippery under his touch, but he was thankful for the coldness and the sting against his raw palms. It cleared his mind a little and made it easier to put together his fragmented thoughts.
None of this was his fault, he kept telling himself. Everyone else was to blame. Abarca had called the army to the wedding. Kapital had organised the whole scenario to get Don Lucas' land. Raymond supported him. Zorro hadn't – no, he didn't even want to think about that.
He sat down by the boulder and threw a handful of dirt at his feet in frustration. He didn't know how to deal with this. What was he supposed to do now?
Gabriel looked up from his hands when he heard the sound of a horse approaching. He struggled back up to his feet to get a better look. He wasn't surprised to see that the approaching man was Zorro, nor could he find the usual anger at him.
"It took me a while to find you," Zorro said as he stopped his horse.
"What do you want?"
Zorro didn't answer. He dismounted his horse and walked closer until he was only a few feet away from Gabriel. His steps lacked the usual strength, and Gabriel realised that Zorro had to be exhausted from his injury and everything that had happened at the dam. This was the perfect chance to attack him before he unsheathed his sword and kill him.
Instead, he stood in silence and waited for Zorro to talk. Surely the outlaw had a reason why he had come here.
"Everyone is wondering where you disappeared to," Zorro said.
"I have nothing more to do there," Gabriel said. He shouldn't have gone there in the first place, he realised. He hadn't accomplished anything.
"I disagree. You owe an explanation to everyone."
"I already told them what happened."
"That wasn't enough. Don Lucas and the others deserve to know everything. Besides, they might need your testimony as evidence to prove that the South India Trading Company was using bribes to acquire the land."
Gabriel gritted his teeth at the outlaw's words. Everything Zorro said was true, but and he hated hearing the truth from his mouth.
"I have nothing to say to anyone," he said hoarsely. "Leave me alone."
"I'm afraid I can't. I'm not finished yet," Zorro said. His face grew grim. "I'm sorry about what happened to your friend. If I had -"
"If you had what? Known about it? Would you have ridden to the rescue?" Gabriel asked. Now that he thought about it, wasn't that was Zorro was supposed to do? Where had he been when Pablo had needed him?
"If I had known, of course I would have tried to help," Zorro said.
"But you didn't, so you have no right to talk to me like that! Some hero you are. You've sworn to protect the people and you can't even do that!"
"I can't be everywhere. Besides, the army would have never grown this powerful and daring if you hadn't helped Raymond," Zorro said. Unlike Gabriel, he didn't need to raise his voice.
"Are you saying it was my fault?" Gabriel asked, feeling his anger return.
Zorro shook his head. "It was Raymond's fault, just like every crime here is. Can't you see that what happened to Pablo is exactly what has been happening here for years?"
"Shut up!" Gabriel snapped. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't need to be lectured at by his mortal enemy. Of course he knew the reasons behind Pablo's death. He just hated to admit it.
"Yelling at me won't change the truth."
"What do you want from me? Did you come here to laugh? Do you think it's funny that I lost a friend this way? The great lieutenant got a taste of his own medicine! Quite ironic, isn't it?" Gabriel asked, not caring that his voice broke or that Zorro probably thought he was pathetic.
"I'm here to settle a few things with you, but I don't think you're in the right state of mind to talk," Zorro said. He turned around and walked back to his horse. "Good thing I knew that and came prepared."
Gabriel saw Zorro take something that was tied to his saddle. When the outlaw turned around again, he realised that it was a sword.
"I didn't ask Abarca if I could borrow this, but I don't think he minds now that he has been arrested," Zorro said.
"What are you going to do?" Gabriel asked.
Zorro tossed the sword at Gabriel's feet. "We're going to have a duel."
"What?" Gabriel blurted out.
"That's what you've wanted this whole time, isn't it? Every time we've met, you've tried to challenge me. Well, let's do it now."
Gabriel said nothing, only stared at the sword on the ground. Zorro was right, this was exactly what he had wanted – his chance to prove that he was still a match to Zorro even with his ruined shoulder. But now that the moment had come, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go through with it.
"Well?" Zorro prodded. "Or are you afraid?"
"Of course not!" Gabriel snapped and immediately picked up the sword. It was well made and perfectly balanced. A crook like Abarca didn't deserve such a fine blade.
"I'm going to use my left hand because I'm a little inconvenienced on the other side. I suggest you do the same. Unless you've learnt your skills in a gutter, you must have had a teacher who taught you at least the basics about using your non-dominant hand," Zorro said.
Gabriel didn't like the idea, but he couldn't back away when Zorro kept talking to him like that. Reluctantly, he moved the sword to his left hand. He felt awkward already. Zorro was right about him having learnt the basics, but that was a long time ago. He had never been enthusiastic about training his skills with his left hand – it had been unnecessary since he was so good with his right hand, and he had always hated how using his left made him feel so clumsy. He simply didn't have the patience for it.
And after he had seen Zorro fight Abarca with such ease... Was there really any mystery about who was going to win this? Zorro would humiliate him like he had done countless times before.
"What's the matter? You don't seem very enthusiastic," Zorro pointed out.
Then again, since when had he cared? He had always faced Zorro full of certainty that he'd win, no matter how badly he had lost the previous time.
Gabriel lifted the blade and assumed the starting pose. He'd be damned if he let this bastard defeat him before they had even started!
"That's more like it," Zorro said dryly.
Gabriel made the first move. His attack was clumsy and badly aimed; he knew Zorro would block it with ease. He wasn't at all surprised when the sword flew from his hand with little effort from the outlaw.
"You aren't even trying," Zorro said. He picked up the sword with the tip of his blade and threw it back at Gabriel. "Let's do it again."
"What's the point? You just want to mock me!" Gabriel said, not picking up the sword. Zorro had always been like that, taking pleasure in making him look like a fool in front of his men, the people and Lolita. Now that there was no audience, he knew that the outlaw got personal enjoyment out of his predicament.
"If you don't pick up the sword now, I will never face you again. This is your only chance of having honourable revenge on me," Zorro said.
"What do I care about honour?" Gabriel asked. Shooting Zorro in the back would do the job.
"Your pride, then. You were the best opponent I ever faced in San Tasco. If you want to give up, fine, but it's a shame when you think back to what you used to be," Zorro said.
Gabriel was clenching his fists so hard it hurt. Zorro's words cut into him like a knife. "And whose fault is it that I'm no longer that man? You ruined me!"
"It was an accident," Zorro said.
"Like hell it was! You did this to me on purpose! I'll kill you for that!" Gabriel yelled. Without even fully realising it, he picked up the sword, this time in his right hand. It was a comfortable feeling, and he felt like it gave him more strength.
Since Zorro was still using his left hand, facing him was somewhat awkward. However, Gabriel didn't care about that and charged at his opponent with all of his fury. Zorro was right; this was what he had wanted all along. Nothing would stop him now.
Their swords clashed, and Zorro shoved Gabriel's blade aside with ease. It was difficult to fight him like this, but immediately tried again. He didn't bother with any of the fine moves he knew; he was trying to defeat Zorro with brute force alone. He knew it left him defenceless, but he wanted to defeat Zorro so badly that no price was too heavy to pay.
Zorro blocked his attack again, but he didn't return the offence. The duel quickly fell into a rhythm of Gabriel attacking and Zorro defending. It was hardly a graceful fight; Gabriel's attacks were brutal and clumsy, and Zorro didn't show his usual level of skills either.
Gabriel's arms were soon aching from the continuous effort. He stopped for a moment, gasping for breath and feeling his lungs burn. He wiped his eyes with his palm to see better.
"Are you feeling better now?" Zorro asked, and Gabriel was sure he could detect a hint of irritation in his voice.
"Damn you," Gabriel growled. "Damn you to hell. It's all your fault. You ruined my shoulder. You've been laughing at me behind my back all this time. You weren't there when Pablo needed you. Did you do that on purpose, too?"
"That's ridiculous!" Zorro snapped.
"Maybe you didn't even want to help him because he was my friend. Maybe you let him die because you wanted to teach me a lesson. Is that it?" Gabriel asked, his voice rising with his anger. He didn't give Zorro the chance to answer but attacked again, aiming to impale his opponent.
"I would never do that!" Zorro said as he directed Gabriel's blade to the side.
"Don't lie to me! You're nothing but a criminal! I hate you!" Gabriel bellowed. His attacks became even more frantic, and he no longer even knew what he was doing with the blade.
"That's enough!" Zorro snapped. With a swift movement, he knocked the sword from Gabriel's hand. Pain flared up in his shoulder, and he knew that Zorro could have ended the duel at any moment by forcing his arm up like that.
"You -" he started, but Zorro cut him off.
"I would never let anyone die because of a petty vendetta like that. What happened to Pablo wasn't in any way my fault. I already told you that the only one to blame is Raymond," Zorro said. "You know that just as well as I do. You just don't want to admit it."
"Shut up," Gabriel growled. He made a dash for the sword, but Zorro pointed the tip of his blade at him and made him stop.
"Enough of that," Zorro said. He was panting, and it was only now that Gabriel realised how terrible Zorro looked. He was pale, almost grey, and there was a feverish look in his eyes. He was clearly holding himself together with willpower only. It was the first time Zorro looked like a regular man.
"What do you want?" Gabriel asked, pressing a hand at his throbbing shoulder and trying to ignore Zorro's condition. Hating him was suddenly entirely different when he was no longer the mysterious figure of darkness he knew him as.
"You don't want to accept the truth because you know you helped Raymond become as powerful as he is now. You can't stand the idea that you have contributed to your friend's death, just like you've never taken any responsibility for any of the atrocities you've committed," Zorro said.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Gabriel said, but his voice sounded weak even to him. It was frightening how well Zorro's words mirrored his own thoughts from before.
"Then you deny it?"
Gabriel didn't answer. He felt more tired than ever. Zorro was right.
"Did you come here to arrest me or kill me? Go ahead," Gabriel said tiredly. It wasn't that he wanted to die; he just felt so exhausted after everything that he didn't think he'd have it in him to fight back.
"I'm here to do neither. There's something I've wanted to talk about with you, but until today I didn't think it would work."
"What happened today?"
"You saved my life," Zorro said, flashing him a small smile.
"Don't remind me," Gabriel grumbled. "It had nothing to do with you. I just have a soft spot for Lolita."
"It must be quite a soft spot if you're willing to face death and save the life of your enemy."
"Keep quiet," Gabriel said, without the strength and anger this time.
"Most people would be proud of that. And it wasn't the only thing that impressed me. You came to face Abarca at the dam even though you could have kept quiet about your involvement," Zorro continued.
"What are you saying?" Gabriel asked. Zorro didn't know the whole truth anyway. He had had no noble intentions. He had just been angry and unable to control himself.
"Haven't you had enough of all this hate and thirst for revenge? I've been keeping an eye on you, and I know you've grown to care about the people you live with. You could be happy if you forgot about your anger at me and concentrated on what you still have," Zorro said.
"I don't need life lessons from you!" Gabriel snarled.
"You should at least think about what I'm saying. But that wasn't my reason to being here. I want an ally out of you."
"An ally?" Gabriel blurted out. He waited a moment to see if Zorro would start laughing or even smirk, but the outlaw's face remained as serious as ever.
"You have information about Raymond and his actions. You know his methods. If you were to help me, we could defeat him in no time," Zorro said.
"You're insane," Gabriel said. "I will never work with you. And besides -" he started, but he stopped before he could finish. The truth was that if Raymond was defeated, it wouldn't be just him to go to prison. All of Gabriel's crimes would be officially judged as well. He needed Raymond in power if he wanted to keep his freedom.
"I know what you're thinking, but I hope that you'll change your mind. Don't you think you owe that to Pablo and all the others who've helped you?" Zorro asked.
Gabriel didn't answer. Pablo was dead, and the others wouldn't want to have anything to do with him now. His life in San Tasco was over.
Zorro walked to his horse and mounted the animal. He grimaced and nearly lost his balance, but he quickly forced the smile back on his face. "That's all I wanted to say," he said as he took the reins. "And thank you again."
Gabriel watched how Zorro took off and disappeared into the rain. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw Zorro slump against the neck of his horse when he was a safe distance away.
Gabriel didn't have the strength to get up, so he remained there and did his best to avoid thinking about everything that had just happened.
Alejandro was staring out of the window and watching the front yard of the estate. Moments ago, one of his men had come to inform him of what happened at the dam. While Alejandro was happy for Lucas and the others, he was feeling increasingly worried. Where was Diego? It seemed like nobody had seen him in a while.
That would make sense if he were Zorro, Alejandro thought. Diego would have to slip away unnoticed and then return as the outlaw. But if he had done that, why hadn't he joined the others after everything was over? Why hadn't he come home?
The messenger had told him that Zorro had seemed injured and had even lost the first duel against Abarca. Alejandro's chest felt tight as he thought about that. The injury matched Diego's wound perfectly. If Diego was Zorro, he had just done something that counted much more in Alejandro's books than any of the heroics or the people he saved.
He had nearly died. His only son had almost got himself killed.
The more Alejandro mulled it over, the more certain he was that Diego was Zorro. He felt it in his bones. Something had happened to his son. Diego was hurt, and nobody knew where he was.
Bernard was at home, doing some chores somewhere. Alejandro was almost certain that the boy was in on the secret, and it took all of his will power to stop himself from running up the stairs and forcing the truth out of him. At the same time, he was almost afraid to do it. Did he really want to know why Diego had trusted a child with his secret but hadn't told his own father about it?
He crossed his hands behind his back and started pacing before the window. He wouldn't leave the room until he saw Diego arrive. Sooner or later, Diego would have to come back home. Then Alejandro would face him and make him talk, no matter what it took.
An hour went by without anything happening. Alejandro's jaws were hurting from having gritted his teeth for too long. Maybe something had gone wrong. Maybe Diego somewhere out in the rain and needed help, and he was just standing here and –
Alejandro looked up when there was a sudden bump in the hall. It could be that it was just Bernard, but he old enough to know that it was always better to be sure. He walked to the door and took a careful peek outside.
Bernard was carrying a large bucket full of water. He had several clean towels folded on his arms. Furthermore, he was going to Diego's room.
Of course, Alejandro thought. How stupid he had been. If Diego was Zorro, of course he wasn't going to ride home through the front gate! He had to have a secret passage into the house somewhere in the countryside.
All the equipment Bernard was carrying could mean only one thing, and Alejandro felt his stomach turn at the thought.
He watched Bernard disappear into Diego's room. He decided to give the two of them a moment to get started. Then he'd surprise them in the act.
Once he thought that a suitable amount of time had passed, Alejandro marched to the door and wrenched it open. He was fully expecting the scene that he saw before him, but it still caught his breath and made him unable to do more than stand at the doorway.
Diego was lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of black trousers. His right arm had a horrible, red wound that looked like it was well on its way to becoming infected, or at least had gone for too long without proper rest. It wasn't the only one of Diego's injuries; he had bruises all over his body, some fresh, some old.
There were bandages and towels all around the bed. A black cloth that could only be a cape was sprawled carelessly on the floor.
There was no reaction out of Diego, but Bernard had frozen in the middle of washing a towel in the bucket. Water was dripping down on the floor.
"Bernard, what is this?" Alejandro asked.
Diego looked even worse than he had expected. He wasn't even conscious! Alejandro could feel his hands shaking with fear and fury at how he had been kept in the dark for so long. And Bernard had known. He must have! Alejandro had taken the boy in when his parents had died, and he showed his gratitude by lying to him at his own house! The boy deserved a beating!
"I... it's..." Bernard stammered, his eyes jumping between Alejandro and Diego. "Diego was betting with his friends! And they said he had to dress up and... and then... this happened..." he explained.
Alejandro looked into the boy's fearful eyes, and he suddenly felt ashamed of his thoughts. It wasn't Bernard's fault. Diego must have forced him into keeping the secret. Alejandro didn't have the heart to tell him that it was over, that he knew everything now. There would be time for that later when they had taken care of Diego.
"I see," he said with a sigh. "I suppose men never stop being boys."
He saw Bernard's shoulders slump in relief.
"This is not something we can take of alone. I want you to go to town and fetch Dr. Timothy," Alejandro said.
"Right away!" Bernard said. He ran out of the room, leaving Alejandro alone with his son.
Gabriel didn't know how long he sat there, unable to do more than think about what Zorro had said. Now that his anger had faded, he could no longer keep denying the ugly truth. Not only had he betrayed everyone's trust after they had come to accept him as one of their own, but he had done it while conspiring with the man who was to blame for Pablo's death. The enemy he wanted to blame so much was none other than himself.
He realised that all this time, everything had been about him. His anger. His revenge. His desire to be accepted. What these people could do for him. Not once had he thought about anyone else. Even Gonzales and Pablo had been irrelevant in the end when someone had waved money under his nose.
And where had that brought him? He was exactly where this had all started. He was alone and hated, and the only thing that had changed was that he had given everyone even more reasons to loathe him.
This time his sense of loss felt greater, however, No matter what he did, Pablo wouldn't come back. He wasn't responsible for his death, but he just as well might have been. How many times had he been in a similar situation? How many deaths had he caused during his time in the army? For the first time, he was starting to look back to his past with eyes that weren't blinded by pride, and he didn't like the man he saw there.
Lieutenant Gabriel was arrogant, selfish and cruel. He stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. He had seduced a grieving widow to steal her ring. He had tried to blackmail Lolita's parents into forcing her to marry him. He had almost shot a little girl in the face.
He had never before been bothered by any of this. Nothing had mattered to him as long as he had got what he wanted. Now... Now it was as if he was seeing clearly for the first time in his life.
Gabriel sank to his knees by the road. It had taken the death of a friend before he realised how much pain a human could feel without suffering from a single injury. And he had done this and worse to countless others.
He was no better than Abarca and had no right to hate him. If only it had been as easy as blaming someone else, but the guilt gnawing at his insides left no room for that. He was the one who had destroyed everything. Nobody else.
He gritted his teeth as he thought about the others. How come he hadn't realised earlier what good people they were and how much they meant to him? Then again, maybe it was poetic justice. He hadn't cared about any of them, so it was right that he lost everything.
Gabriel wasn't the type of man who liked to sit around and do nothing about his problems, but this time he felt helpless. Nothing he could do would make things better.
I can't face the others like this, he thought. He was too ashamed of what he had done and had too many regrets. How could he ever stand before Don Lucas, Basilio and the others when he couldn't make up for his mistakes?
It was time to leave San Tasco for good. This time there would be no Rafael or Pablo to stop him on the road. He would start a new life somewhere else and never think back to everything that had happened here.
Gabriel stood up and chose the direction that would take him to the Alvarez estate where he needed to pick up a few things. He did his best not to feel like he was a coward and running away.
Diego had stirred and murmured something when Dr. Timothy had tended to his wound, but he had never fully woken up. He was sleeping silently, and Don Alejandro had no intention of leaving his bedside before he was awake.
He kept thinking about Timothy's words. The doctor had been angry that he hadn't been called as soon as Diego had got the injury. None of Alejandro's explanations about how he hadn't known Diego was that badly hurt had mattered; the doctor had given him a scolding that had made him feel like a little boy again.
Timothy had said that as long as they stopped the infection and as long as Diego got enough rest, he should heal fine. He had been lucky; it was only a flesh wound, and it didn't look like there was any damage to nerves or bones. At first Alejandro had been relieved, but now that he didn't have to fear for Diego's life anymore, other dark thoughts filled his mind.
Diego had got the wound several weeks ago. All that time, he had pretended that everything was fine. He hadn't told the truth to him even when Alejandro had forced him to work at the dam. He had just gritted his teeth, knowing that it would cause him further pain.
Why wouldn't Diego tell him? Was he such a terrible father that his son couldn't tell him secrets that he shared with an adopted servant? The anger Alejandro had felt earlier had turned into gnawing worry, and he kept mulling over everything that could be the cause. Was Diego upset that he had sent him to Spain? Had he not wanted that after all? Or maybe something had happened in Spain. Was it because he had been so disappointed in him after his return? Or maybe Diego had thought he was too old and frail to know the secret.
So many different explanations, and none brought him any peace. He would only know the answer when Diego woke up. This time he wouldn't accept anything but the truth from him, and they would discuss the matter of Zorro until there were no more questions.
After a couple of hours, Alejandro got up to stretch his numb muscles. He walked to the window and pulled aside the curtain to take a look outside. He saw how sunlight was starting to penetrate the dark clouds – a sure sign that the rain that had tormented them for nearly two weeks was finally about to end.