Alejandro pushed the horses as much as he could. He could hear nothing over the roaring of hooves and clattering wheels and the pounding of his heart in his ears. Dios mio but it had almost been better when he did not know that his son was masquerading as Zorro every night. Diego had no idea the sleepless nights that Alejandro dealt with ever since his discovery that his own son was the outlaw every corrupt man in California feared.

His son could take care of himself, of this, Alejandro was certain. But he had not been thinking clearly yesterday, his judgment had been clouded. And, he thought, as they turned into the pueblo and he yanked the team to a stop, that can put a man in any number of situations he may have a hard time getting out of.

Alejandro ignored the private at the gate of the cuartel and strode right in, Bernardo running to keep up with him. He did not bother to knock on the comandante's door, making Sergeant Garcia jump in surprise. Corporal Reyes sat up a little straighter, but relaxed when he saw that it was Alejandro. "Sergeant Garcia," Alejandro said. "Have you seen my son, Diego?"

"Oh n-not….not this morning, Don Alejandro," Garcia stammered.

"Are you worried because he didn't come home all night?" Reyes questioned.

Alejandro looked at him with a frown. "Well, yes. How did you-"

"That is usually the reason for a father's worry!" Garcia interrupted. He gave Alejandro a wide smile. "Don Diego probably spend the night with a sick friend."

Before Alejandro could argue that Diego wouldn't have just left, even for that reason, without saying anything to Bernardo or his father, Reyes spoke up. "He might have been attacked by highwaymen," Reyes said. "Maybe he's lying somewhere with his head all based in."

Alejandro's heart sank. Diego had seemed in better spirits after his round with the soldiers in the patio. But he is also a very good actor, as his father had come to discover. What if he had gone for a walk to clear his head, and something had happened to him?

"Do not worry, Don Alejandro," Garcia reassured him. "No harm has come to him. He is tied up-I mean, he's probably tied up in some business transaction."

Little does he realize how close to the truth he speaks, Alejandro thought. "I hope you're right, Sergeant," he said. "If you see him, send word to me at once?" He got up to leave

"Of course, Don Alejandro," Garcia replied. "And I shall also tell Senor Avila that the duel is off."

Alejandro paused, one hand on the door handle. He turned. "You do not understand, Sergeant. This…business transaction…is an affair of honor. If my son does not appear, then I must fight Avila myself, as his second." As an afterthought he added, "And as a de la Vega…and as his father." He nodded politely to the two soldiers, letting the door close behind him.

Bernardo followed him out, hurrying to keep up with him. Alejandro pushed past the men at the gate and out into the plaza. He grabbed hold of the ranchero's arm, and Alejandro spun around. "What?" he demanded, looking around to make sure no one was watching.

Bernardo, too, looked to see if anyone was within earshot. "I have a duel to fight, Bernardo," Alejandro reminded him, but Bernardo shook his head, pointing to Alejandro's watch as if to remind him that he had time. He pointed back to the cuartel.

"What about them?" Alejandro demanded.

The other man made the motions of opening a book. "Diego?" Alejandro guessed, unable to think of anyone else that motion might represent. Bernardo nodded. He pointed at the cuartel, mimed Garcia's belly, and snapped off a salute. "Sergeant Garcia. What about him?"

Bernardo pointed to himself, to his eyes, and made the sign for the sergeant again. "You were watching him." Alejandro spread his hands. "And so what?" Bernardo's hands flew, imitating chewing on his fingernails, eyes looking all around, a finger to his lips. "He looked nervous. Like he had a secret." He frowned. "What secret would that be, and what would it have to do with Diego?"

As if the other man had been summoned, Bernardo watched Garcia and Reyes, on horseback, leaving by the side street, headed out of the pueblo in the direction of the de la Vega rancho. "All right. Here is what we are going to do," Alejandro said, thinking quickly. "You are going to follow Sergeant Garcia." He squared his shoulders, took a breath. "I will deal with Senor Avila."

Bernardo shook his head, but Alejandro placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hopefully, I will not have to last long. Go. Find my son." He shook Bernardo's shoulder in affection and gave him a gentle shove. "Go."

Santa Maria…

Everything hurt. Every joint, every muscle that could hurt did hurt. Diego hadn't hurt like this since…well, he supposed the closest might have been the time he was thrown from a horse when he was about eight years old. He'd landed hard. He remembered his father and their head vaquero had made him stay awake for a full day and night after that to make sure he was not concussed.

My vision is clear, and my head only hurts a little. It was the area where his shoulders met the base of his neck that was the most painful.

The smell of sawdust had been what had woken him. When he'd come to, it had taken a few moments for him to register that he was in the woodshed. Someone had rested him upright against a pile of logs rather than just tossing him inside, and for that he supposed, he should be grateful. But the ropes binding his ankles and his forearms behind his back were dulling that feeling.

Sergeant Garcia. He remembered the sergeant asking him to look at a lame horse…seeing Corporal Reyes, and then nothing. Hijo de p…it had been Sergeant Garcia who had done this to him, he was sure of it! "Why?" he asked aloud, but the question was muffled by the cloth that had been wrapped over the lower half of his face. Bound and gagged…but why? For a terrifying moment, Diego had thoughts of Sergeant Garcia turning him over to the governor because he'd found out he was El Zorro. But no, surely the Sergeant wouldn't…even if he did discover I was…he wouldn't…would he?

Father. Alejandro de la Vega had to be beside himself not knowing where he was. The duel. Diego twisted his shoulders, flexed his forearms, but the ropes didn't budge, and all he got for his trouble were twinges of pain. I have to get out of here. If I am not there to fight Senor Avila, Father must… His father had been a wonderful fencer when he was younger. But Alejandro hadn't touched a blade in a long while. Avila will kill him.

His heart started to pound. I have to get out of here! He tried shouting for help, but between his dry throat and the gag, little sound came out.

Outside, he thought he heard the sound of hoofbeats. Diego paused, waiting. Soon, he heard voices. He rotated so he was resting on his bound arms, his feet against the wall of the woodshed, and began kicking at the wall as hard as he could. The nerves in his fingers and the muscles in his lower back screamed in protest, but he continued pounding on the wall, until the woodshed door burst open. He craned his neck to see Sergeant Garcia's big frame fill the doorway, and he began swearing at the soldier in every language he knew.

"Don Diego, please don't be upset!" Garcia talked over the top of him, bending down to help him back to a sitting position, and taking his fingers to the knots behind him. A moment later, Reyes was also inside, working at the ropes that bound his feet. As soon as one was free, Diego lashed out in anger and frustration, catching Corporal Reyes in the knee with his boot. Reyes yelped and moved out of the way to a safe distance.

Garcia stopped what he was doing. "Don Diego, listen," he pleaded. He left Diego's hands tied, left him gagged, but moved to help him stand. Diego glared at him, his eyes speaking volumes. "It was for your own good, Don Diego, please," Garcia told him. "We only wanted to stop the duel from happening!"

Diego sagged. Of course. Of course that's what it had been. Garcia, in his own way, had been trying to help. He supposed that he should be appreciative of the attempt. And, he does not know I am Zorro. However, there was still the matter of his father. "Corporal Reyes is going to untie your hands," Garcia said. He winced. "Please don't hit me."

"Or me, again," Reyes added, sawing at the ropes with a small knife. Diego felt the ropes give way, and the first thing he did was rip off the gag and throw it at Sergeant Garcia.

"Idiota!" he roared. "Do you not understand what you have done?" he yelled at the two of them. "You have placed my father's life in danger because of your stupid attempt at protecting me!"

"We know!" Garcia assured him. "That is why we came to let you go!"

"What time is it?" Diego demanded. Do I still have time? Is it too late? "Bernardo!" he gasped, as his friend hopped off a horse before it had come to a complete stop. Bernardo looked thoroughly confused, and relieved to see Diego all at the same time. "Bernardo, my father," Diego said urgently.

Bernardo mimed thrusting a sword, and tapped his watch, then waved at Diego to hurry. Diego pushed past Garcia and out to Bernardo. "We have to go, now," he said. He raised an eyebrow at Bernardo, and Bernardo tapped the bundle he had strapped to the back of his horse. Gracias a Dios for Bernardo, Diego thought, for what he was certain would not be the last time. His head still aching, Diego had Bernardo help him onto the horse. Bernardo slapped the animal on the rear. The horse took off in the direction of town, Diego hanging on as best he could while feeling was returning to his hands.

Bernardo then turned and fixed Garcia and Reyes with a deadly look. The two, for their part, managed to look appropriately abashed. Shaking his head, Bernardo took off toward the stables to get another horse to get back to town.