Diego left very early the following morning, after taking his goodbyes from his father and Felipe. He made his way north using alternatively Esperanza and Luna, thus avoiding to completely exhausting them. From his hacienda to his uncle's, there were about 90 miles, a distance he normally covered in two whole days. Since he was in a hurry, though, he decided to cover said distance in one day, a feat which proved even more tiresome to the rider than to the horses, despite Diego's physical shape.
It was past midnight when he arrived at his destination. The place was guarded by two sleepy lancers, one of who stopped him as he reached the gate.
"You can't go in, Señor. This hacienda is under quarantine." The man said.
"I see... But I am a doctor… From Los Angeles. I've come to help." He answered.
The two guards exchanged a glance, then allowed him to pass. "Make sure to stay safe, Señor. They say that whatever illness is in this house it is very bad." The same man told him as he entered.
After stabling the horses, making sure they had everything they needed, Diego took the luggage he had brought with him and headed for the hacienda's main entrance. Checking the door, he noticed it was half-open and entered, moments later finding himself face-to-face with his dumbfounded uncle, who was about to lock the door after noticing it wasn't closed.
"Diego! You're here!" Don Rodrigo said, taking a step back at seeing him. "How on earth could you make it from Los Angeles so soon?"
"I was told it was an emergency so I rode as fast as I could." He explained, surprised to see that his uncle was well.
"Oh? Then, come in! Come in!" The don asked as his wife also appeared in the hallway.
"Diego? What are you doing here?" Doña Catalina asked as she followed her husband. "I told you not to contact him!" She then chided Don Rodrigo. "Why did you have him ride like a madman here, when there's hardly anything he can do for our son, and we still have no idea if his illness is contagious or not?"
"What do you mean? Is there something wrong with Rafael?" Diego asked.
"It's bad, Diego." His uncle said. "He's very ill. It's why we don't dare to embrace you, my boy. The doctor says my son's illness is very contagious, and I don't want to risk your life."
"I see…" he answered. "I will keep my distance then. But… What is wrong with Rafael and when did he fall ill?" The younger man asked.
"We don't know… Neither does the doctor… We are desperate…" The older man said as he led his guest towards his son's bedroom. "But that's not why I called you."
"Please tell me you didn't call him because you believed Rafael's words! He was delirious." Doña Catalina muttered.
"Of course not, my dear! That would be absurd!" Don Rodrigo answered as they entered the room, where Marguerita was keeping vigil, her face wet by tears.
As soon as the tall caballero followed her in-laws inside, the young woman stood up and stared at him, surprised and, strangely enough, seeming embarrassed in his presence.
Diego greeted her, then headed for the bed in which Rafael was resting.
"No. Please, don't!" Don Rodrigo stopped him in his tracks. "I know you know some medicine, Diego, but if our doctor doesn't know what to do for him, I doubt you can help. And we can't risk you falling ill. Who will our grandchildren have then?"
Diego stared at him in astonishment, so the don continued. "As I was trying to tell you, Diego, all I wanted was for you to take the children. We have all spent our days and nights keeping vigil on Rafael, and chances are we have also contracted the disease. If we die, they will need their family to help them." Don Rodrigo explained.
"You… You want to give away my children?" Marguerita asked aghast.
"For their safety, my dear!" The don uttered. "Till we know that we pose no danger to them or…" the don stopped there and turned to his nephew. "Please, Diego! Monterey is too far away to call Alma. Before she'd be able to come here, we might all be dead. You can just take them now and go."
Doña Catalina burst out crying as he said that, and Marguerita slowly sat down in the chair she had just left.
"Uncle, Rafael is alive, so let's not plan any funerals just yet! And, now that I am here, I am not going anywhere until I understand what we are dealing with." Diego uttered. "Before we declare the battle lost, we should fight to save him, shouldn't we?" He inquired, trying to calm down his distressed relatives. "Let's start with his symptoms…"
"Yes… Right… Well… It started several days ago. He was away to Buenaventura for a few days, and he was already feeling ill upon his return." Don Rodrigo told him. "He was suffering from dizziness, and soon started complaining about intense pain in his stomach... The doctor who saw him exited his room convinced that the disease was highly contagious, instructed us to give him a concoction to help his immunity, and gave us laudanum to administer to him every time he wakes up. He never visited after that, fearing for his safety."
"And he also alerted the alcalde." Doña Catalina added.
"To quarantine you?"
"Not only us." The older don explained. "My son had stopped on his way back from Buenaventura, as he usually does, in an Indian village, and came home saying that many of the Indians were ill and dying. He surely got it from them. The alcalde gave orders for the tribe to be also placed under quarantine, forbidding anyone from entering or leaving the settlement. At least he sent them some provisions. I made sure of that. But I heard some had tried to leave and two were shot by the lancers. I don't know if they are even alive anymore..."
"I see…" Diego replied.
"Rafael said that at least six people had died there since the illness had started, a few days before his visit, and some 15 were also suffering from the disease. He was planning to return to them with supplies and the doctor when he became ill." Marguerita answered.
"Do you know if he had also stopped there on his way to Buenaventura, not only on his way back?" The caballero inquired.
"He hadn't… He actually mentioned regretting not having done so. He said he could have known about the illness sooner and might have been able to help those poor people." Marguerita answered with a sob.
"What symptoms does he have? Besides the dizziness and the pain in his stomach?"
"Nausea, diarrhea… and his… urine…" Doña Catalina uttered, embarrassed, "it was quite dark for the first two days. Now it's getting lighter."
"Is there anyone else here displaying the same symptoms as he?" Diego asked next.
"No…"
"None at all?" He insisted.
"Not so far…" his uncle told him.
"Well… Then, the good news, I guess, is that you are not infected. If Rafael caught it in a matter of minutes and the symptoms started so soon as you say, while none of you has any symptoms yet, I think you are all quite safe."
"You really think we are not infected?" Doña Catalina inquired.
"I don't even think it's an infection," Diego told him. "There are usually a few days between the time one gets into contact with someone infected, and the time that person shows the first signs of disease. Like with colds – it doesn't happen right away. It takes a while, depending on the disease… It might be the case that this disease is different… But, considering what you've just told me, rather than a disease, this seems to be a reaction to something Rafael might have eaten or drank, rather than an illness. The symptoms you described make me think some kind of poison was involved… an unknown insect or animal might also have caused all this... although…"
"Although…"
"Although the symptoms do seem to lead to a certain kind of poison men often use."
The other three people there exchanged a dumbfounded glance.
"Who would poison my son? Why would anyone do that? And why would the doctor say it was a disease and refuse to return here?" Doña Catalina asked.
"What kind of doctor abandons a patient to his fate, fearing his own?" Diego asked as he again headed towards the bed, this time circumventing his uncle. Bending to have a look at the sleeping younger man, he started examining his cousin. "What have you been giving him, besides laudanum? Has he been eating? Drinking?"
"The doctor said we should give him soups and a concoction of his made with wine, onion juice and garlic. And we did, but he's only gotten worse. So, for the last two days we've given up on forcing him to take his medicine and only gave him water, milk, and the laudanum to keep him comfortable."
"The laudanum might also have done more harm than good in his situation, especially if consumed in excess." Diego muttered, rather enraged, as he started examining the younger man.
Rafael's stomach was making noises and seemed tense as Diego tried to feel it; his fingers were a darker shade than normal, and there was a strange rash on the inside of his hands, making them look almost as if they had been burned and were in the process of healing. After taking a careful look at it, Diego asked Doña Catalina to get him some water and soap to wash the wounds and himself, Don Rodrigo to help him take off his cousin's nightshirt, and Marguerita to light a few more candles and lamps. He then spent some time trying to find out if any other part of Rafael's body was afflicted by a similar rash as the younger man's hands, or if there was any bite mark to be found.
Standing up and slowly pacing the room after he finished his examination, while his uncle was struggling to pull down his son's nightshirt, Diego tried to remember all he knew about poisons. "You said that drink the doctor gave you was made with garlic? How much garlic?" He inquired.
"Six cloves per each onion used." Marguerita answered.
"And you haven't made him drink it for two days now, during which time his urine has become lighter?"
"Yes…" The older Doña answered.
"And have you noticed any other improvement?"
"I don't think so… But he's mostly under the effect of the laudanum…"
"If this is the poison I believe it to be, the garlic might have only worsened his condition." Diego explained. "I've read about people in the past who had been poisoned with the use of books. The pages were poisoned and they absorbed the poison, which caused their death. Perhaps it is also what happened to Rafael. He must have touched something poisonous. Although, arsenic is not easily absorbed through the skin… Used with some other substance, though…" He continued speaking, the last part only for himself.
"Arsenic? Dear God! But is there a cure?" Doña Catalina inquired. "Can you save my son, Diego?"
"There is no known cure but not everybody dies of it. It's a matter of quantity and if he would have ingested a deadly dose he would have already been dead. As things stand, he is still holding on, and his heartbeat is strong. I think he has good chances of surviving." The caballero said, then headed for his medical bag. "I did bring some tinctures Jessie Kent, our pueblo's doctor, made for exactly for such cases. She's brilliant when it comes to poisons. Perhaps there's one which could be of help."
"But you've just said there's no cure…" Marguerita uttered.
"No… But there are substances which help purge the poison from the body." He answered.
It took him some ten minutes to examine the ingredients and purposes for each of his bottles while his relatives were nervously waiting. "Here!" He said after finding what he was looking for. "This one helps clear the blood and supports the body in its fight against poisons. It is indicated to counteract the effects of arsenic." The tall caballero said worriedly. "Another thing I could try is a blood transfusion, replacing some of his blood with healthy one from a compatible donor. I will need some time to study your samples in order to determine who is a viable candidate, though. Usually, the parents or the children are the most likely ones."
ZZZ
The ailing young man found the tincture disgusting, and it took Diego a lot of effort to convince him to take it.
The cactus tea he gave him about an hour later was even more disgusting than the tincture, and Rafael started complaining that his cousin was trying to kill him faster, his complaints only doubling after being told he was no longer allowed to take laudanum. Some five hours later, though, when he woke up from the sleep induced by the cactus tea, new blood in his veins donated by both his parents, for the first time in days, he was feeling well enough to eat, his stomach aching less.
ZZZ
Three days later, with Rafael's condition visibly improving, Diego sent one of the lancers to bring the alcalde and tried to convince him to lift the quarantine. The man was unexpectedly reasonable, despite deciding to act cautiously. While he refused to lift the quarantine, he did, however, help prepare a wagon of provisions to be taken to the Indian village, allowing Diego to take it together with his medicine and medical instruments. He only conditioned said visit by the caballero's agreement to take a military escort and return straight to the De la Vega Hacienda afterwards, thus making sure he wouldn't spread any disease.
ZZZ
Diego climbed down from the wagon he drove as he arrived at the Indian settlement, informing the ones who seemed in good health that he had brought provisions. No one hurried to take them, a fact that intrigued the caballero.
Minutes later, a middle-aged man exited a tent positioned right in the middle of the village and headed towards him, followed by two others. "Go away! We don't want your kind here!" He told the caballero, not even trying to be polite.
"I am here to help." Diego replied. "I understand my cousin, Rafael, is a friend of yours."
"Rafael? He promised to help us and, instead, he sent the lancers!" A younger man, who was accompanying the chief, replied.
"He didn't send them! He fell ill, so the town's doctor asked the alcalde to institute a quarantine to make sure the disease doesn't spread." The caballero told them.
"He's ill?" The tribe's chief asked.
"Rafael has been suffering from the same affliction killing the people here." Diego told them. "But he's getting better. He's been very worried about you, though. It's why he asked me to come."
"You shouldn't have. We need no more strangers here." A man with his face completely painted – who Diego suspected was their medicine man – uttered.
"I came because I know of a way to help you. A tincture Rafael's been taking, which made him feel better. I brought you all you need for it, as well as a few provisions."
"If he is better, Rafael should come here." The painted man said.
"He's not well enough yet. He was dying a few days ago. He can't even stand more than a couple of minutes without help." Diego explained. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but…"
"Go away!" The chief ordered. "We already know what caused this and how to save the tribe."
"The spirits of those fallen on this land want us to leave. But because of the lancers, we can't obey them! We can't leave, and the people keep dying, because of Rafael!" The medicine man said.
"This has nothing to do with spirits. You need not move from your lands… All you need to do is let me help you!" Diego insisted.
Instead of listening to him, the older man, as well as the ones accompanying him, just headed away with no more words.
Diego sighed and looked around, hands on his hips, trying to see if he might find someone interested in what he had to say. The only one he found was a boy, who seemed no older than 13. He was looking curiously at him from behind a tent, so Diego signed for him to come near. The boy glanced around and shyly headed his way.
"Do you speak Spanish?" He asked, despite speaking the Chumash dialect of the tribe.
The Indian boy nodded.
"Can you tell me if someone brought something here the day people started getting ill, or the day before that?" The caballero asked. "Books, materials…"
The boy seemed to think about it for a few moments, then nodded a few times.
"What was it?"
"Blankets. Two men brought us blankets from Buenaventura."
"I see… Can you find one of those blankets and bring it to me?"
The boy nodded and was about to leave when Diego put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait!" He said, then looked towards his wagon. Taking a small cloth from it, he gave it to the boy. "Use this cloth to grab the blanket. Don't touch it directly!" He instructed him.
The boy nodded again and hurried to do as asked, soon returning with the blanket. Diego took it using the same cloth he had used, and carefully put it in the wagon. "Thank you! You are very brave." He told him and the boy smiled, instinctively trusting the caballero. "Chief!" The young De la Vega then called the man who was talking to an older woman some thirty feet away.
The tribe's leader turned around and again headed towards him. "I told you to leave!" He said as he reached Diego, giving the little boy a scolding look.
"I will. But first, I must do what I came here to do." Diego said, determined. "Please, allow me to help your people!"
The older man was about to retort when the caballero continued.
"I believe the blankets you have received from Buenaventura are the cause of the illness. I can't yet be completely sure, but it is very likely that the mere use of those blankets is killing your people. You should have them all placed in a tent and make sure nobody touches them… not even when removing them. They might be poisoned…"
"The blankets?"
"I fear so." Diego uttered. "But I can help… Just allow me to! Look… Your people are already dying. What do you have to lose if you let me give them the medicine I have brought? For some, it might already be too late, but others still have a chance."
ZZZ
"You visited the tribe? How are they faring?" Rafael asked the following morning while drinking his medicine with no complaints about its taste.
"Fifteen had died from the disease already and about 30 others were ill." Diego replied. "But I did manage to find out what caused all this and, hopefully, made sure no one else gets ill. I also left them the medicine I had prepared and instructed the women there how to administer it… But they might not believe I only mean to help..."
"Then let me go, with you? I will convince them! I am already feeling better. We can go today." Rafael uttered eagerly.
"No. You are in no condition to move, Rafael. Not yet…"
"But they are my friends, Cousin! I need to make sure they listen to you. What better way to convince them?"
"They were already gathering together the poisoned blankets when I left, so I am rather certain nobody else should get ill. Perhaps they'll also be wise enough to use medicine I left them. It might save many of the ones who are suffering."
"How about Zorro?" Rafael suddenly asked. "Wouldn't they listen if Zorro told them to?"
"Zorro?"
The younger man sighed, obviously hesitating, then simply stared at his cousin. "I have a slight suspicion you know very well who he is."
Diego turned pale for a few moments, then instinctively looked around as if checking that they were not being overheard. "Why would you suspect that?"
"Because no stranger would have had any reasons to help me look good before the woman I loved. Nor would a De la Vega idly stand by and do nothing when the people are suffering, certainly not the man I knew when I was growing up. Besides, there were things mentioned in your letters or during your visits… Despite what you might believe, while I've always been hot-headed, I am neither stupid, nor completely blind."
"I never believed you were…"
"So you admit it?" His cousin asked expectantly.
"It's a dangerous secret to admit to, Rafael."
"Yes… Well… You should know that I suspect I might have let that secret slip while I was delirious."
"That does explain a few things… I do hope nobody actually believed you, though…"
The younger man shrugged his shoulders. "So? Can't Zorro help the tribe?" He inquired.
"I doubt they will find Zorro in any way convincing. It is my medical expertise they need, not his skills with the sword. For now, our best bet is for you to get well." Diego answered.
ZZZ
During the next couple of days, the caballero remained by his cousin's side, hoping the Indians were using the medicine he had taken them.
About a week after Diego had arrived in Santa Barbara, Rafael was already on his feet, even if for rather short periods of time. It was, however, enough to convince the alcalde that there was no dangerous disease spreading through the territory. The man, thus, ordered his lancers to return to the garrison, lifting the quarantines, yet refusing to investigate the source of the poisoning, still unable to believe it was not an illness to have killed all those people when his pueblo's doctor swore it was.
Free, at last, the two caballeros took a wagon and headed for the Indian village one morning, arriving there just around noon. This time, unlike during Diego's first visit, the tribe received them with far more friendliness, and they immediately noticed that several people in the crowd presented similar wounds as Rafael, but were, just as the younger De la Vega, also able to move around.
"You used the medicine?" Diego inquired with a smile.
"Your medicine saved many lives." The tribe's chief answered. "We owe you our gratitude."
"Are there many still ill?" The caballero inquired.
"Yes… Your medicine doesn't seem to help everyone the same. Those with less wounds get better faster."
"And the blankets? Have they all been collected as I had asked?" Diego inquired.
"Yes. We gathered and burned them, so that the evil may forever go away." The older man said triumphantly.
"Burned them? I didn't tell you to burn them! They were evidence."
"Our medicine man had a vision: he said they needed to be burned or others might fall ill."
"Your medicine man also told you to leave this place because it was cursed!" Diego pointed out, with some controlled anger.
ZZZ
"What now?" Rafael asked as they were heading back to Santa Barbara that afternoon, having spent all day with the tribe, as Diego tried to help the people still ill.
"Now, I return to Los Angeles. And Zorro will do his best to bring the guilty ones to justice." He answered, an icy tone in his voice.
ZZZ
"We owe you a great debt, Nephew!" Don Rodrigo asked as they took their goodbyes from the younger man the following day. "I was right to call you, even if I had no idea how good a decision it was at the time."
"Indeed, Diego! I am so grateful for all you did for us!" Doña Catalina muttered sincerely. "My son would have been dead without you!"
"I am happy to have been of help. I certainly prefer my cousin alive." He answered. "Just make sure to keep Rafael away from the laudanum. It's addictive, and I caught him several times this week trying to take some."
"I will make sure to do that!" Marguerita replied. "Thank you for all you did, Diego! And please give my regards to Victoria. Tell her that, should she need any advice or help with her niece, I'd be more than happy to help. And I'll be glad to have news from her if she makes some time to write me."
"I will pass that along, Marguerita. And I am sure Victoria will also be grateful for the clothes and toys you sent for Marisol." He answered with a smile.
After embracing Rafael and the children, Diego hesitated for a few moments, but decided to make his request anyway.
"Uncle," he said, "there is a small favor you might do for me…"
"Anything!" The man answered.
"I have some business to attend to but I'd rather my father wouldn't worry about my whereabouts. If he sends any message for me, please let him know I will return in about a week."
The De la Vegas exchanged a confused glance, then Don Rodrigo eyed his nephew. "As you wish, Diego. Just let us know that you arrived home safely as soon as you get to Los Angeles."
"I will." He promised with a grin, then mounted Esperanza and headed towards Los Angeles.