Two: Return

And so followed four more days, camping on the beach beneath the hot sun, tracking and hunting in the forests about the coastline, ever remembering, ever forgetting. Horatio silenced his thoughts with a fierce work ethic that frightened and mystified the crew. Even Bush seemed thrown by the aggressiveness of the captain's enthusiasm. It was on the morning of the fifth day that it happened. Horatio's party had strayed further north-east to see what they could find when they heard an outcry and explosion of guns. Wondering if it was Bush, Horatio beckoned to them and led them towards the sound and a loping run. Darting around a thick tree, Horatio was bowled over backwards by a black figure. Both leapt to their feet and cocked their pistols. And then they froze. Horatio stared with a sickening, lurching horror into his past. But, no… there was something wrong with the picture. It was La Sombra, the black clothes and wide-brimmed hat and silk mask, but the person filling it was all different. Broader, stronger… taller.

"Monsieur 'Ornblowurr!" Cried a distinctly different voice. He felt as if he were about to be sick. "Oh 'eaven's above! We zought you wurr dead, monsieur." From nearby came French shouts, and the La Sombra imposter glanced over his shoulder.

"Who..?" Horatio couldn't control his tongue to speak.

"Quickly, come wiz me and I will ansurr your questions as I can." He beckoned, and Horatio obediently followed, unsure of what to do. They were led to a small cluster of trees, disguising a ramshackle hut, and closely guarded by soot-painted men. La Sombra showed them in, and Horatio and his party managed to seat themselves in the modest house. Removing his hat, the man rambled slowly, fixing a kettle above the fire for tea. "I am afraid you crossed a raiding party, monsieur. If we 'ad not met, you would 'ave come across some trés angry republicans." He smiled, and untied his mask, revealing a worn, French face. "Bernard Mayez." He held out a hand and Horatio numbly shook it, opening and closing his mouth inanely. "I suspect you 'ave questions, no?" Bernard sat on the chair opposite the captain and handed him a chipped mug, full of foul-tasting tea. Horatio took a few sips before managing to say:

"Yes. I thought you were killed that day…"

"Alas, no. I was not in ze party. My bruzzer…" Bernard swallowed hard. "Zey were all killed. La Sombra…" He frowned. "Before I continue, monsieur, do I 'ave your discretion, and ze discretion of your men?"

"Of course."

"Zen you know of La Sombra's true identité."

"Yes." Horatio's throat constricted at the reminder of Elizabeth.

"Well, she is alive, as you know. She wrote letturrs, telling us of your bravery and ze occurrences." He bit his lip. "She could not come back, she said."

"And you have taken her place. Become the new La Sombra."

"No." Bernard answered fiercely. "I will never replace 'er. She will always be La Sombra. I am an actor." He shrugged. "She asked for our forgiveness for abandoning us, and asked for me to replace 'er. I could not deny 'er zat wish." Horatio placed down the mug.

"I cannot stay. I must get back to the beach."

"But, of course. We will accompany you so far. Also, we can tell you much of zis area." They all rose and bowed to one another, then Bernard caught Horatio's arm as they made to leave. "Just one request, monsieur. I would ask if you would look for 'er. And 'ave wurd sent – zat she is well."

"Of course." He couldn't do it… he simply wouldn't allow himself that pain any longer. But how could he deny the desperate face? They had loved her fiercely and loyally, and all they wanted was to know she was well.

They found all the parties at the beach – they had heard the guns and returned to make a stand, if they should so need to. Horatio bade farewell to Bernard, who melted away untraceably, and ordered for the boats to return to the Hotspur.

"Set a course for home, please, Mr Bush." He ordered his lieutenant, and watched the fading coastline from the ship, his thoughts a mixture of grief and confusion. He told Bush to come with him to his cabin, and they sat at the table in a brief silence.

"Sir?" Bush began hesitantly. "What happened?" Horatio rubbed his face as if it would clear his thoughts.

"I met La Sombra again." He stated shortly, and his lieutenant looked taken aback.

"But, sir… was it..?"
"No. Another. Bernard, one of her followers." Horatio's eyes were full of desolation. "He asked me to see her again, make sure she's happy." There was silence.

"And will you?"

"No." He replied decisively. "I won't do it again."

"Perhaps… perhaps, it would be best if you did see her, Horatio. She's haunted you for three years; surely it's time to face it."

"I can't." The captain's voice cracked. "I can't bear to see her… not with him." Bush pondered on this a moment. Of course… Daniel. It was not that Elizabeth had broken his heart; it was that Daniel had intervened. Star-crossed lovers, he mused. And thus, Horatio's spirit had been broken, his heart torn. The men saw it, he saw it, even the Admiral saw it – Horatio was a shell of his former self.