Chapter 14
Felipe awoke with a start. Zorro had not returned! The clock read 5:07, and it was well past the time for Zorro to have returned. The kidnappers had been jailed. He should have met with little resistance. What could have happened?
It took only a few minutes of questioning himself before Felipe set out for the stables. He had stopped long enough to gather a few supplies that might be needed: bandages and ointments, a blanket and a pistol. He didn't know what to take, but he knew he needed to be prepared for anything. Please, God, don't let any of it be needed!
He rode back to town to see if he could pick up the trail he knew Zorro would have followed.
Zorro had taught him well, for he picked up the trail easily and only had to backtrack a few times before picking it up again. The sun was threatening to rise as he found the remains of the deserted camp. It took him a little longer to pick up Tornado's trail leaving the camp. But the trail began to make sense as he realized he was near the Indian cave Diego had once shown him.
Victoria's hands continued to pull at the black silk. It was this, this mask, that had kept them apart. And there was now no need for it. Those men had come to the pueblo for only one reason - to seek out Zorro and kill him. And there would always be more. He had made many enemies. Now, it would be his very presence that would draw lawlessness to Los Angeles.
Los Angeles. And just where were the people of Los Angeles tonight? Their hero could be dying this very night, and she would be the only person to witness his death. The only person that loved him with a passion so deep, so lasting... Oh, Madre de Dios, what if he dies tonight!
What if he dies tonight? The question burned into her mind. She listened to his rapid, shallow breathing. She felt his brow and placed a hand over his heart. The beating was still irregular, but it was strong. No, he was putting up a good fight. He would survive. But he could have died!
What would happen if he died tonight? Her mind raced through the possibilities. Zorro would pass over into legend. His deeds would be like those of heroes of the past. A hundred years from now, people would wonder if he had ever really lived. The stories of his life might be embellished and even remembered in song. History would know him only as Zorro. Not as Diego.
But if Zorro died tonight, Diego could begin to really live. He would no longer have to live a double life. He could marry her and they could begin their lives together, have children. Would that be enough for him? Would he ever be able to voluntarily give up the masquerade he had begun? Or should the choice be left solely up to him? His sense of duty was all encompassing. His unselfishness knew no bounds. But could he truly be the wisest judge of when to end the charade?
And in one breadth of a second, her decision was made. Zorro would die tonight so that Diego might live.
She began gently tugging at the cape that lay partly underneath him. A half-formed plan had taken shape in her mind. And for it to be successful, she would need his clothes. She took the cape and laid it out on the ground beside her. Then she began to unbutton the front of his shirt. It wasn't until she had undone the last button that the reality of what she was doing descended upon her.
A spark of excitement began to grow at the base of her spine as she opened the front of the shirt and beheld him. A small gasp escaped her lips as she looked at his finely muscled, bare chest. Her excitement was replaced by surprise.
Scars! There were scars here that a caballero should not have. A map of sacrifice lay before her. How often must Zorro have been hurt and she had never even known! At least two of the healed wounds were probably from musket balls. And several saber cuts adorned his flesh as well.
She swiped at the tears before they could fall. If anything, the proof of past wounds firmed her resolve to go through with her plan.
She unbuckled his belt and pulled, slipping it through the loops, and soon it was added to the small pile of clothes. Then embarrassment and modesty took over, and she could not go further. If black pants were needed for the masquerade, then someone else would have to supply them!
Before long, she had gathered the black garments in a pile along with his sword and hat. She looked back at the sleeping man with a sense of wonder at what she had already done.
It was then that she heard the shrill whistle.
Tornado neighed softly in answer and she froze.
There it was again.
And then she relaxed. Of course, it was Felipe! She peeked out the cave's opening and was indeed rewarded with the sight of Felipe scrambling up the rocks toward the mouth of the cave.
"Felipe! He's here!" She reached for the blanket he carried underneath his arm before he had even straightened up from the climb. Before his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she had covered Diego's sleeping form and was tucking in the edges of the blanket around him carefully. "He was stung by a scorpion. He's had some trouble breathing and I don't like the way his heart is beating, but I don't think we should move him."
Felipe was examining the wound already and had begun to take out an assortment of ointments and bandages. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. He had expected a gunshot wound, but a scorpion sting was more of an unknown. He could treat the wound, but the venom would just have to run its course. The wound itself was ugly enough. Diego's own cuts into the flesh were deep. And the entire hand was now swollen and turning a bluish color.
Victoria watched him work and wondered just how much he had understood her. There was little light from the small fire and it would be difficult for him to read her lips in the dimness. But a new respect for the young man grew as she watched him tend to the wound. How often must he have done a similar service for his master! The healed scars she had seen were a testament to Felipe's healing skills.
"Felipe." She placed a hand on his arm to get his attention. "I need to borrow your horse. You will stay with him while I am gone for a little while?"
He nodded and returned his attention to fastening the bandage. His back was to her as she gathered the bundle of clothing and left the cave.
She urged the horse faster as the sun began to rise in the sky. She had already decided that it would be Don Sebastian that she would ask for help. It was he who had been the most vocal on Zorro's side outside the jail, and his hacienda was conveniently located on this side of the pueblo.
The hacienda was already coming slowly to life in the early morning hour as she reined in the horse before the front gate. She brought her bundle with her as she was led into the sala to await the patrón of the house.
"Señorita Escalante! What calls you to my hacienda this fine morning." His words were cheerful, but there was a look of concern in his eyes. This young señorita would never be here if there weren't trouble brewing. Her relationship with Zorro was widely known, and his eyes lit in alarm on the black silk cloth bundle she carried in her arms. His face turned serious and he asked solemnly, "How can I help?"
"Don Sebastian!" She looked furtively toward the doorway, wondering if his servants were wont to eavesdrop.
"Put your mind at rest. We will not be overheard. What has happened?" His strong male presence was calming.
"I came to you because I heard you speak for Zorro at the jail that night. I need your help."
"And that you have. Just tell me what it is I need to do."
"These are Zorro's things." She held out the clothes to him and the words came out in a rush. "I want you to help me convince the pueblo that he is dead."
"He isn't..." Don Sebastian's eyes widened.
"No. No, he is ... hurt. But if we can..." She realized what a weak case she was making as she began.
"If we can convince everyone he is dead, he will escape the gallows. Yes, I see. Does he agree to this?"
"He doesn't know. He...can't make such a decision right now." She was beginning to wish she had never come. How could she do this! Was she doing the right thing? It had seemed so before, but now…
But Don Sebastian had taken the bundle and was already agreeing. "Yes, I see. I see everything." He put an arm around the girl's shoulders and urged her gently towards the door. "You will leave everything to me. I will take care of it." He pulled the sword from the mass of black silk. "But this. Return it to him. He will want to keep this." He wrapped her fingers around the hilt. "Now, you should get back to him. Does he need anything? I owe him my very life. Anything I have is yours for the asking."
But her head was spinning. The magnitude of what she had just done was beginning to settle upon her. She had to get away, and she had to get back to Diego. The wheels were in motion and now they would grind away without her help. She left with her whole being was now focused on getting back to Diego. For he was now only Diego. Her Diego.