Zorro held Toronado back and studied the situation. MacKay had a pistol levelled at him.
"We are men of honour. A pistol against my sword? Where is the honour in that? No challenge whatsoever. One squeeze of the trigger and I lie dead at your feet."
"Very Shakespearean, Senor. But perhaps you are right," MacKay said with a shrug in the gloom. "I am at a loss without a sword of my own. What would you suggest?"
Zorro smiled, his teeth white in the darkness surrounding them.
"Hand to hand combat has always been a way to test two men's abilities and valour. As men of honour we discard the weapons and..." Zorro shrugged.
MacKay chuckled and nodded. The men dismounted, warily studying each other.
Toronado shied a little and skittered to the side.
MacKay swung the first punch, which Zorro dodged effortlessly.
"Take care," Zorro said, with eyes glittering in the dark. "There is a cliff to our right, if I am not mistaken."
"Nice to know," MacKay grunted, trying again. Another swing and a miss.
"Stay still, fight me properly," MacKay growled. Zorro darted close to MacKay and struck him in the shoulder, then darted away again, as MacKay swiped at the air where he had been. MacKay lost his temper, and leapt at Zorro, bringing both men onto the dirt.
Zorro used the man's momentum to toss MacKay over the top of him. He was aware of the cliff being so close, but the fight was moving them closer to the edge. He had to take control of the fight quickly.
On the ground, MacKay had more skills, Zorro decided. MacKay had more muscle mass, while Zorro had speed and agility on his side. MacKay was a brawler, not a man of the sword. Zorro preferred his sword, or even a knife to the forceful hands of the man at close range.
At the moment, the man lay dazed from the throw. He seemed groggy and slightly off kilter, as he raised himself on his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. Zorro dismissed the idea of leaving the scene to fight another day - the man was too dangerous for that. And there was a sense of honour to uphold. He would have to win and win convincingly to keep him at bay long term.
"Had enough, MacKay? Shall I take my leave?" Zorro said, taunting the man. MacKay roared with anger, and rushed at him, pushing both the men closer to the cliff than before.
Toronado whinied, and shied.
MacKay struck Zorro in the right shoulder, and intense pain flashed through him. A knife, the man had a knife. He pushed back, driven by a survival instinct, although MacKay seemed driven by a madness that had overtaken him. A madness that had given him even more brute strength
The man had gone completely mad, Zorro decided. He put all his strength into holding the man back, but he was failing, feeling his feet slip backwards towards the cliff. He put it down to the pain in his shoulder, and the left shoulder was still weaker than it should be. He braced himself, focussing on the inevitable plunge over the cliff, his mind searching for means of safety, taking into account the environment around him.
"We'll see each other in Hell," MacKay said, and with a final shove, both men disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
Zzz
Alejandro was riding ahead of Victoria's cart, stopping occasionally to seek tracks in the dark. "It's no use, Victoria. It is too dark. There is no way to track anything in this light."
"Maybe there is something else we can do," Victoria said, worriedly. Her mare snorted and stopped, fussing a little. "It's alright, girl. Let's keep going."
Alejandro had to stop, and hold his horse firmly. "Something is going on out here."
The high pitched whiny of a restless horse split the night, and the other horses fussed even more.
"Toronado?" Victoria said, softly.
"Let's not jump to hasty conclusions, Victoria," Alejandro said softly. "Let's just stop and take our bearings."
Zzz
Zorro had grabbed for an ancient root that he had somehow known about, that jutted out of the top of the cliff. The old remains of the tree on the cliff creaked under his weight. He had barely seen the shape in the dark, and he was grateful for his survival instinct and lightning reflexes. He risked a glance downwards, where the waves of the ocean pounded the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.
He groaned a little, as the pain in his arms intensified. He pushed through the pain to swing himself up to a small ledge near the top of the cliff. He felt more stable on solid ground even if the space was tiny, but glanced at the top of the cliff with concern. It wasn't going to be easy to scale the cliff, not with his injured shoulders. He examined the knife wound in the dark, and noticed that the knife was still in place. It had its benefits, at least he wasn't bleeding too heavily immediately, but benefits were few and far between - if he bumped it, it would cause more damage.
There was no sign of MacKay. He had met his fate at the base of the cliff, where he had meant them both to meet their ends. Zorro stumbled against the cliff wall, and let himself fall. So much for an easy night of high spirited bravado, he thought. He just needed to rest for a moment or two, and then get up the cliff wall however hard it would be.
Zzz
"I can't wait until morning," Victoria said. "I know that is what you are about to say. This is Diego out there, our Diego, not some all powerful being. He could die. He's not immortal."
"Victoria," Alejandro began. "I don't know what to say to you. Diego is my only son, my flesh and blood, my feelings are on par with yours. Some things are impossible. Tracking Zorro in the dark of night is impossible. It is hardly possible in broad daylight. At night…"
"I have to stay here," Victoria said, with finality.
"That is something I am sure Diego would debate," Alejandro said with a sigh.
"A debate he would lose," Victoria said firmly.
"It will be cold," Alejandro warned. "Even with a fire."
"I can handle that," Victoria assured him. "We have blankets, with food and water."
"Yes, we do have that," Alejandro said with resignation.
Zzz
Zorro whistled for Toronado, and the stallion obediently walked to the edge of the cliff. The horse hung his head down, the bridle reins dangling tantalisingly close. Zorro reached for them, hopefully, but they were just out of reach. Just a few inches out of reach.
Zorro studied the rock face of the cliff. Visibility was incredibly low, and there was no real hurry, was there? He felt drowsy and a little dizzy from the fight. No doubt a few bruises and scrapes, and the knife wound was not going to do well with a hard climb. One false move and he could still fall to his death.
So so close, he thought, staring at the reins. Not close enough. He sighed. Nothing was going to be easy with a wounded arm. He couldn't even see for footholds and handholds that could save his life. There was no way he could climb in this light. He had no choice. He had to stay there on the ledge for the night.