Chapter 23.1

Light from the campfire flickered into the cave. Zorro rested his head against the cave wall, trying to quell the ache in his head by closing his eyes against the light.

Victoria shifted against him, and he opened his eyes to watch her cautiously. She was staring into his face, and a finger lay on his lips for a moment.

"I have to do something about this blood. It is still bleeding, and I need to bandage it," she said, and stopped for a moment as if considering what she would say next. "The wound is under the mask, and I need to treat it at the source. As you would agree…"

"It will be fine," he said softly. He caught her hand gently.

"If it was me...you would have bandaged it already, regardless of any complaint from me. If the mask was on my face, it would be gone."

He considered her face carefully. "I'm not you."

She sighed, and turned her head away for a moment.

"I love you. I love you, you idiot," she whispered. "I will not sit back and watch you bleed to death. I hate you and your stupid mask."

Zorro raised her hand to his lips, and brushed it with a kiss, before he reached out and gently turned her face back to see her eyes full of tears. He drew in his breath, her tears hurt him more than his head injury.

"Alright...I can't...Do what you have to do. The mask can always be replaced," he said softly. Her eyes widened.

"You're sure?"

"No, I'm not," he admitted with a sigh. "If you hate me more in a moment…" He closed his eyes again. "I'm sorry."

"You're someone I know? A man I know?" Victoria's fingers went back to his face, hesitating near the mask. Their eyes met, cool blue eyes and deep rich brown ones. Zorro's heart skipped a beat, and a shudder went through him, making him wince as his left shoulder ached.

"Someone you think you know," he murmured. "You will be angry with me. All my fault, of course."

"Of course," she agreed. She took a deep breath, and eased the bottom of the mask up and off his head. She had instinctively squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Zorro reached up again and grasped her hand in his right. Both of them held their breath, as Victoria dared to open her eyes again.

Zzz

Alejandro reined in at the camp site.

"Pablo, Luke. What has happened?"

"Patron," Pablo said, coming forward. He eyed the stallion carefully, but the horse was more interested in staying away from the men. Toronado shook himself, and stepped closer to the cave.

"Victoria and Zorro are trapped in the old cave. We've talked to Victoria already, and we have made a small access hole."

"Good man, Luke," Alejandro said, patting the younger man on the back as he approached the cave.

"Victoria?"

He crouched near the entrance and peered inside. He could see nothing. Victoria appeared at the access hole.

Her face was tear stained, and there was blood staining her blouse. Her eyes were wide and a little wild.

Alejandro drew in his breath. What did that mean? Was their hero...dead?

"Victoria, are you alright?"

"I...oh...Don Alejandro," Victoria said, her voice catching a little. She swallowed, and tried to dry her eyes, unknowingly smearing a little blood on her face. "I'm fine. I will be alright. I'm fine."

He wanted to reach in and embrace her. She seemed to be shaking with some sort of powerful emotion.

"Zorro?"

She was nodding repeatedly for a few minutes. Alejandro reached through the hole and squeezed her hand. "Is Zorro alright?"

"No...no…" She squeezed his hand as if trying to find support, stability she obviously didn't feel. "Blood...and...and…" She broke down into a flood of tears. Alejandro rubbed her arm, wishing that he could put his arms around her even more. Be patient, he told himself. Let her pull herself together. She'd had some sort of shock.

"He'll be alright. He'll be fine," Alejandro soothed, as he kept rubbing her arm. She started nodding again, sniffing and forcing a smile onto her face.

"Yes, that's right. He will be fine. Everything will be fine. Everything will be alright."

"Yes, Victoria," Alejandro said, keeping his voice soothing. "Of course it will."

Pablo passed his friend a mug of coffee, strong and black and fragrant. Alejandro pressed the mug into the woman's hand reassuringly.

"Drink the coffee," he said. "You'll feel better with something in you." It wasn't the stiff drink she probably needed, but it would help a little.

Alejandro eyed Pablo with concern. He hadn't even discovered if Zorro was alive.