Note: The Spanish bowline is an existing rescue strategy for use on ships. Not sure if it fits the time line, but I found it interesting.

Spanish bowline - Wikipedia

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Pablo, Luke and several other men arrived with Victoria. Alejandro had watched over Diego the whole time, letting his son sleep against him for the time being.

Pablo climbed down a new rope. He brought some of Diego's clothes. It wouldn't attract the alcalde's attention to them. Diego was very accident prone, and no real questions would be asked if he was hurt. He was known to be clumsy on horseback.

Alejandro gave his headman a tired smile.

"How is he?"

"Not as bad as he looks."

Pablo nodded. Diego was pale, washed out and lifeless in his father's arms. He wasn't dead then, he thought relieved. He gestured to the clothes in his arms, and Alejandro took them.

"It's so tight on this ledge," Pablo said with concern. "How do you propose we get him out of here?"

"Ask the men that came with you. I have men from all corners of the world by now. Someone might have some idea," Alejandro said softly. "There must be a way."

Pablo nodded. "Someone will know a way."

Both of the men glanced at Diego. Diego would know a way, but there was not much chance of him telling them.

"He's going to be fine, Pablo."

"Of course he is, Patron," Pablo said gently. "We'll get him home, Don Alejandro. I promise you that."

"Of course," Alejandro said, turning back to Diego, smoothing stray hair from his forehead.

Zzz

Pablo scaled the rope and stood in front of the men.

"Is he dead?" Luke asked softly, speaking what the other men were thinking.

"No, of course not," Pablo said, and swallowed nervously.

"Good," Luke said, relieved.

"We need to work out how to hoist him out of there," Pablo said. "Without causing too much more damage."

"Hoist him?"

"He's in no shape to climb. We can't even really ensure he can stay conscious for more than a few minutes."

"He's only a few feet below us. How hard could it be?"

"Could he stay awake for a few minutes?" A man in the group asked. He was relatively new to the area and the idea of farming altogether. He'd been on the sea for several years.

"I think he could manage that," Pablo said, thoughtfully. He wasn't sure, but in his experience the de la Vegas were hardy stock. Diego could probably be roused enough for a few minutes.

"Well, it's just an idea," the new man continued. "On ship, there is a contraption called a bosun's chair. If he could maintain his balance for just a few moments, we could hoist him off the ledge and up here in a few minutes."

"Really?"

"Would you be able to set this bosun's chair up? What equipment would you need?"

"If he can't stay conscious, we could do a bowline knot," the man said after a moment's thought. "All I would need is a stout rope."

"Bowline knot?"

"It's purpose on board ship is lifting people, like the bosun's chair I spoke of," the man said with a shrug. "Officers and such. But with rescues there are other ways to tie it."

"Get him his rope," Pablo said, liking the idea of at least two ropes. "Are you sure this will work? It is a long way down if he falls."

"He won't fall if we do it right," the man said. After he was brought his rope, he tied a double loop knot within ten minutes.

"How do we position it around him?"

"This loop goes under his arms, and this one goes around his knees. If he can be trusted to stay awake, he could thread the loops through his legs, and hold on to the rope, but…"

"Arms and knees," Pablo said. The older man couldn't put the image of Diego's pale lifeless form out of his mind. "At my call, make sure you haul away hard."

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Pablo scaled down the existing rope, while the men held the new one firmly.

Alejandro glanced up and as Pablo informed him of the plan, Alejandro wanted to refuse. It seemed so risky, to rely on such a contraption to save his only son.

"The sailors trust their officers to this knot," Pablo said. "A man is normally conscious when using it, of course, but they wouldn't have a system that didn't work. It's a well known rescue strategy in the Spanish navy."

Alejandro raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his old friend. "And you are such an expert in the activities on board a ship?"

"One of the men knows of it."

Alejandro glanced down at his son. "He's not likely to wake up any time soon. I'm getting worried about him. More than I was," he said softly.

"Position this loop under his arms, and this one around his knees. We only have to trust it for a few moments, and then the men can easily grab him to pull him up."

Alejandro nodded. He wanted the doctor to examine his son as soon as possible. He wanted him in a warm bed, out of the chill of the early morning.

"Let's do this immediately."

Zzz

Diego drifted in and out of a disturbed sleep, and Alejandro watched over him carefully. The sooner his son was in his own warm bed, and examined by the doctor the better. Who knew how much blood Diego had lost? He could have hit his head again, complicating the existing concussion. He had obviously fought MacKay on the cliff top. Who knew what injuries he had sustained? Diego was too drowsy to ask.

The men hoisted Diego up and out of danger, taking under ten minutes. He was cushioned in the buggy, his head resting on Victoria's lap. He was covered in heavy blankets, with only his head visible. Alejandro cast him worried glances, as he rode his horse next to the buggy.

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Victoria stroked Diego's hair out of his face. It was normally so neat, she realised. The mask had mussed up the neat strains into disorder. She had never seen him so vulnerable. The injuries from the cave in hadn't left him as pale and exhausted as he was now.

"I'm sorry Victoria," he whispered, and she met his eyes. She was surprised to see him awake, and she shushed him softly.

"I am the one who should be sorry," she said. "You need to rest now. You're safe now. Don't worry about anything."

He frowned, and his eyes clouded briefly. "No, I'm sorry…"

She caressed his cheek gently. "Go back to sleep, my love. You can tell me everything after you rest," she murmured. He closed his eyes as if savouring the feeling of closeness. She felt so calm with him, even though he was hurt. Just being together, she could maintain her strength, and focus on calming him.

She owed it to him. After five years of misunderstandings, she knew she owed it to him.

The buggy lurched and pulled to the side, occasionally, and she kept him clasped tightly in her arms, reducing the impact on his bruised body. She kissed his forehead softly, thinking he was asleep again. His slow smile and a hand on hers informed her that he wasn't.

"I love you," Diego said sleepily. "Please believe me."

"I believe you," she whispered, brushing his forehead with another kiss. She watched him get rocked to sleep, resting in her arms. The feeling of connection was stronger than ever between them, and she finally realised that she had always been connected to Diego, and then to Zorro.

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Diego was in no mood to argue with his father during the next few days, preferring to sleep and rest peacefully in his room. Hernandez was a regular visitor, and decided that there were no new head wounds to be concerned about, and that the blood loss was moderate but not life threatening.

"He is very subdued," Alejandro said to the doctor after Hernandez had seen Diego.

"He is still very weak. He's barely able to keep his eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time," Hernandez said softly. "He's in no danger now, but it did come close. He has some strength to regain."

"I think I liked it better when he was challenging us," Alejandro said, with a sigh. "His spirit is a little wounded somehow."

"Exhaustion," Hernandez said softly. "Increase the food and drink a little, and more interaction with Victoria might be advised. They seem to enjoy each other's company."

Alejandro glanced at the young woman sitting at Diego's bedside. He was sleeping again, but seemed peaceful and content. Victoria was mending something, and singing or humming softly.

"They are good for each other," Alejandro said briefly. "If he's not in danger, she's as meek as a kitten."

"Hmm," Hernandez said, following his gaze. "Have you heard the rumours from the pueblo these last few days?"

"No," Alejandro said, his eyebrows rising. "Should I be concerned?"

"Not particularly," Hernandez said. "The lancers found MacKay's body on the beach, and they also found Zorro's mask and cloak in the surf. The talk of the town is that Zorro's body was food for the sharks."

"Indeed," Alejandro said. "What does the alcalde think?"

"He thinks that might be the case. He executed Senor Jaspero yesterday without opposition."

"Jaspero? That was a shame," Alejandro said, with a frown. "Something needs to be done about the alcalde's excesses. Jaspero was a fool but not a menace to the pueblo."

"There's talk about Victoria," Hernandez said with a twinkle in his eyes. "They say she is nursing a good friend, and that nursing friends leads to other things."

"I have heard that can happen with the fairer sex," Alejandro said, with a thoughtful smile. "Is the alcalde that stupid, that he really has no idea about Diego and Zorro."

"People believe what they want to believe," Hernandez said with a shrug. "You wouldn't have believed it two weeks ago, would you?"

"I would have been hard to convince," Alejandro admitted. "He is a master actor."

"Yes," Hernandez said, gathering his supplies. "Let Diego sleep as long as he needs to. We will worry about his spirit in a few more weeks. That knife wound could have been much worse. If anyone had removed the blade, he would have died of blood loss."

"I'm glad our hands were slow to touch it."

The doctor nodded, and cast one more look into the patient's bedroom before nodding again.

"I'll see him again tomorrow afternoon."

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