Chapter 3
The alcalde stubbornly left a half a dozen lancers stationed throughout the hacienda. It took no more than a day before they had disturbed the house staff enough that the de la Vega cook took to carrying a very heavy pan around whenever she moved about the kitchen, ready to swing it at the next lancer who walked in the door. Several lancers soon made their way back to the pueblo rubbing their sore heads and muttering about a crazy old woman.
Wisely, de Soto did not send more lancers to replace those who had returned. He recalled all but one who remained simply to make sure Victoria was not removed from the hacienda. She would simply remain under house arrest.
Alejandro walked into his son's bedroom, never questioning why Zorro had carried Victoria there, and glanced down at his haggard son. They hadn't had any time to talk privately since Zorro had brought Victoria but they would – when Victoria recovered.
Diego's his head was pillowed on his arm as it rested on the bed beside Victoria's motionless hand. Alejandro gently rested his hand on Diego's shoulder, instantly waking the younger man.
Diego's eyes immediately flew to Victoria's face but they fell when he noticed she had not awakened.
"Breakfast is served, Diego. I want you to go eat something."
"Maria can bring me a tray in here," Diego answered, picking up Victoria's hand and brushing his fingers lightly across the smooth palm.
"No. Diego." Alejandro stared down at his son before kneeling to better meet his eyes. "You need to leave this room. If only for a few minutes."
Diego shook his head but Alejandro continued. "I will sit with her. I've already eaten." He didn't admit his meal consisted of a few bites of eggs and a cup of coffee.
Diego sighed heavily and nodded. "All right." He wearily pushed himself to his feet, and Alejandro stood with him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Diego weakly returned the gesture. It felt good to be held for a change.
"She will make it through this, my son," Alejandro said firmly, with a resolution he didn't truly feel. "Have faith."
"I said a prayer the moment she was shot, Father," Diego murmured. "It didn't help."
Alejandro pulled away, holding his son at arms length. The sadness in his son's eyes nearly broke his heart. "She's still alive, isn't she?"
Diego closed his eyes and nodded in understanding.
Later that afternoon, Victoria's fever increased and she began to mutter incoherent words in her delirium. One word was spoken and understood, very clearly – Diego's name. She called for him, whimpered his name. If it had been anyone other than Alejandro, Diego or Felipe who had been sitting with her, they would have been confused as to why she was not calling out for her masked man.
Diego carefully lay the cool cloth across her forehead and whispered to his love, begging her to get well. He whispered over and over his apologies, about how much he loved her, but nothing brought her out of her delirious state.
The doctor was summoned immediately and as he examined her, Diego could see that he was not optimistic.
"Her fever has worsened." The doctor confirmed what Diego already knew. "You must keep cold compresses on her forehead, and put some on her arms and legs as well. If her fever rises, lower her into a tub filled with cool water."
Alejandro was waiting in the entryway to the bedroom, listening quietly. "I will send Maria to gather the necessary supplies."
"Does she have a chance of pulling through this?" Diego asked, fearing the answer.
"She's a strong woman, Diego." The younger man didn't miss that the doctor had not answered his question. "But her body needs to get rid of this fever and concentrate on healing the injury."
The doctor checked the wound and found it healing satisfactorily, despite the circumstances. "I am expecting a new medication to arrive from Monterey in the next few days. It should help reduce the fever."
"If it gets here in time," Diego said quietly, brushing his fingers across Victoria's warm hand.
"I will bring it right over when it does," Hernandez assured the distraught man. "I will return tomorrow. Send for me if I'm needed before then."
Diego nodded but didn�!99t bother to look up. His attention was focused solely on his lady and the doctor realized with a pang of sadness that Diego was now openly showing his true feelings for Victoria – if only she would wake to see how much this man loved her!
As light gave way to the darkness of night, Diego found himself forcibly removed from his own bedroom. Alejandro told his son, in no case was he to enter the room again before morning. He needed sleep, and if it took kicking the younger man out of the room, then so be it.
But Diego did not go to the guestroom that had been prepared for him. He slipped into the cave and paced nervously. He sat restlessly down at the large mahogany desk and absorbed as much knowledge of medicines as he could from his extensive library of medical journals.
Felipe joined him, coming and going when he noticed Diego grow more agitated as the hours passed. When he suggested getting some sleep, Diego had snapped at the boy, so he didn't mention it again.
But Diego was exhausted. He hadn't slept in over forty-eight hours and the woman he loved more than life itself lay dying in his own bed. It had been his selfish desire that was the reason for her condition now. He had wanted to see her, hold her, kiss her, reveal a little bit about his true self. He had wanted to make that night the beginning of their lives together. Instead, he now feared that it was the beginning of the end.
Diego slammed one medical journal shut and opened another. As he continued to read, his mind returned to that evening. An evening that had started out so well.
Then the alcalde arrived, ruining their bliss, and aimed that pistol at his chest. He, Diego, should be dead now, or mortally wounded. Not his precious querida. She had taken a shot meant for him yet again and he promised himself that if she woke, this time, Zorro would be a part of their past. This time – Zorro had died whether she lived or not.
Diego pushed himself to his feet and stared sadly at the black material that hung from the rack.
And to keep the promise that he'd made to himself, and to his lady, Zorro needed to make this one last visit to Ignacio de Soto a memorable one.
Much to Zorro's surprise, he found de Soto sitting at his desk writing in a large, leather-bound journal. The time was exceedingly late and the voyeur's eyes narrowed as he watched from the rooftop window.
When Zorro leapt onto the floor beside de Soto, the alcalde slammed his journal closed and reached for his sword. But Zorro was too quick. He tightened his black-gloved hand around de Soto's collar and pushed him against the wall, dislodging books resting on a crudely made shelf.
"What do you want?" de Soto squeaked, the air slowly being squeezed from his lungs as the masked man tightened his iron grip.
"A warning, Alcalde," Zorro seethed, his eyes unblinking, "If Victoria dies, you shall follow." To illustrate how easy it would be to snap the alcalde's neck, Zorro's other hand joined the first. "And your death, I promise you, shall be slow and painful." He released his grip on the alcalde's throat and stepped back.
De Soto doubled over, heaving large gasps. When he stood, eyes searching for a weapon, any weapon, he wasn't able to move quick enough as black-gloved fists barreled towards his face. The first and then the second struck him, pushing him back against the wall. The third punch dropped the man to his knees but Zorro lifted him to his feet again. "Your days of hurting the innocent are over, Ignacio de Soto. If you raise one hand, one whip, one pistol, or so much as your voice, at the people again, you will receive swift and painful retribution."
Zorro released the alcalde and he slumped to the floor, one eye half closed and his lip bleeding. At de Soto's low, disbelieving laugh, Zorro turned slowly, drawing his sword.
"Make up your mind, Zorro! Am I to die swiftly or slowly!"
A glint of steel flew beneath the alcalde's chin and he snapped his mouth shut.
"If Victoria dies, you shall follow her."
"So the death of your lover warrants my death but the flogging of a mere peasant does not? What a hypocrite you are."
"A death for a death, Señor." The blade slid closer, nearly drawing blood, as Zorro leaned forward. "Flog an innocent and you will feel the sting of my whip, strike an innocent and, "he raised a black gloved hand, "you already well know how painful these can be." He sheathed his blade in the blink of an eye and drew de Soto to his feet again. "Your oppression of this pueblo is over, comprende?"
When De Soto didn't answer, Zorro pushed him against the wall. Raising his blade in his customary salute, he ruined yet another pristine uniform with his unmistakable signature and landed another right hook into an already painful jaw.
The padre was sitting with Alejandro when Diego returned to Victoria's room the following morning.
Once he'd returned from his visit with de Soto, Diego had gone to check on Victoria but was driven out by an annoyed housemaid. With a scowl, he had gone to his room to lay down on the bed, telling himself he would only close his eyes for a brief moment – and the next thing he knew it was morning.
Diego's heart rose to his throat and his eyes widened, thinking for a fleeting moment that his love had died in the night. Alejandro was on his knees, the padre beside him, praying for Victoria's recovery. Diego crossed the distance separating him from his lady in a few short steps and reached for her hand, heaving a grateful sigh of relief when he could feel the steady pulse that beat beneath her clammy skin. He knelt beside the padre and bowed his head, joining in the other men's fervent prayers.
"Could we speak for a moment?" Diego asked the padre when the prayers had ended.
Alejandro stood and excused himself, leaving Diego and the padre kneeling on the floor. Diego indicated the good friar take the seat and the man nodded gratefully.
"I – I need to – confess. Something – " Diego heaved a huge breath, words flying through his mind faster than he could speak them. "This deception should not have gone on for this long. I shouldn't have lied. She wouldn't be – "
The padre remained silent, but watched the young caballero with growing misery for the guilt he must surely feel.
Diego glanced sadly at the woman he loved and took her hand gently in his. "It's my fault she was shot."
The padre said nothing. He had heard the young woman had been injured protecting Zorro but he also knew that the distraught young man sitting before him was that masked man. He had known for a long time.
"Again, she took a shot meant for Zorro. When will it end?" Diego turned misty eyes on the padre. "When he is dead and the alcalde is free to oppress the pueblo at will?"
"The people need to learn to stand up to the alcalde on their own," the padre counseled, his heart reaching out toward the distraught young man. "They cannot expect Zorro to defend them forever."
"Our letters to the King have not reached his ears. Or if they have, they have gone ignored." Diego shook his head. "Nothing the people do makes any difference. Zorro –"
"Zorro's success is largely based on the fact he does not have to worry about the alcalde's retribution." The padre stared at Diego, hoping to make the man understand. "If the people stand up to him, he can tax their families, throw them in jail, whip them, beat them. By standing together to face the oppression, they will do greater good than standing alone."
Diego nodded. "Zorro's anonymity has saved those he loves from retaliation." He gazed at Victoria with eyes full of longing and despair. "Except for the woman he loves most in this world."
"Who would give her life for him."
"She almost has."
The padre stood and rested his hand on Diego's shoulder, "Then offer her something to live for."
"I would give my life; what else is there?"
"Your heart and your love."
The friar's eyes twinkled as he squeezed Diego's shoulder.
Diego suddenly understood. "How long have you known?"
"A very long time, my son. It's time you made right between you what has kept you apart for so long."
"I will. If she would just wake."
Alejandro glanced up sharply as the hard pounding on the front door distracted him from absently pushing the food around his breakfast plate. He set his plate aside, ignoring the annoyed glare from a long time house maid at his reluctance to eat, and walked to the front room only to find himself nearly run over by an irate Francisco Escalante.
"Where is she!"
"Francisco!" Alejandro's eyes widened. The last time he and Victoria had spoken about her brothers, she'd mentioned that they were in Mexico City. Word could not have reached him so quickly about his sister's injury.
"I have a few days' leave and I wanted to see Victoria. I was told she was shot and was here recovering. Where is she?" Francisco barely stopped to take a breath as he stared expectantly at Alejandro.
"Diego is with her." Alejandro indicated to the younger man to follow. "This way."
Francisco burst through the door, startling Diego awake, and rushed to his sister's side.
"Ai, Dios." Francisco fell to his knees on the other side of the bed as Diego pulled himself up into a sitting position and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes.
Francisco took his sister's small hand and squeezed it gently. "I'll kill him, gatita, for doing this to you."
Diego glanced up as his father placed a hand on his shoulder. He nodded and stood to follow his father out of the room. At the entryway, he turned and said softly, "Zorro deserves whatever you have planned for him."
Francisco looked up sharply, for the first time noticing Diego's haggard appearance. "I'm not talking about Zorro, amigo, although I will have words with that man as well. He should not have been sneaking around with my sister in the middle of the night." He glanced down at Victoria and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I don't care how much she loves him." He looked up at Diego, his eyes hard, "No, I'm talking about that bastard, de Soto."
"Ignacio?" Diego asked, a slight air of disbelief to his voice.
"He shot my sister and I will repay him in kind."
Diego shrugged off his father's hand and strode over to Francisco. "Don't do anything rash. Don't ruin your life, your military career, to exact revenge. He is not worth it."
"But my sister is!" Francisco turned mist-filled eyes on Diego. "She's my only sister. My gatita (my kitten). I know life hasn't been easy for her. Especially after Ramón and I left. She had to run the tavern alone. She had to grow up so quickly." Francisco shook his head. "I won't let that man get away with this. She deserves so much more."
"Yes she does," Diego whispered sadly and Francisco noticed, yet again, his old friend's appearance, his stance, the weary look in his eyes.
"And she will have everything she ever wanted. I will make sure of it!" Francisco lifted Victoria's hand and kissed it gently.
Diego sighed, blinking back tears. "Victoria – de Soto was aiming for Zorro and she – took the shot for him. He didn't aim at her."
Francisco nodded at his childhood friend. "I don't care. He shot her. He should never have been aiming a pistol so close to her. You don't apprehend a criminal by going through your own people to do it!"
Diego nodded. "I agree. Ignacio does not share our opinions, however."
"He won't have to worry about having an opinion about anything soon."
Alejandro, overhearing their conversation stepped back into the room with a word of advice for Francisco. "Don't do anything rash. Not yet." He turned to Diego and took his arm. "Leave Francisco with his sister. You need to rest, clean up and eat some breakfast." He turned to Francisco. "I'll have Maria bring you a tray."
Francisco nodded his thanks, once again absently noticing the uncharacteristic disheveled appearance of his childhood friend.
TBC