NOTE/DISCLAIMER: I just realized I forgot to put the disclaimer at the beginning of this story. Chalk that up to being a first-time poster. Sorry. Anyway, I do not own any of these characters with the exception of Jose Ramiro and his gang. This story is being written purely for the entertainment of Zorro lovers everywhere, and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions, the estate of Johnston McCulley or any other.

Chapter 6

Jose Ramiro and his men were gone. They left just before sunrise. Alejandro and Victoria had heard them moving around in the other room, but couldn't quite catch what they were saying to each other. Just before they left, Ramiro came into the lean-to, with Pablo and Tomas flanking him. Alejandro pushed himself up off the floor where he'd been sitting by Diego, and interposed himself protectively between the bandit and his son. Ramiro would touch Diego again only over Alejandro's dead body!

"So! He's still alive, is he? I'm a little surprised at that. He looks a bit the worse for wear, though." Ramiro's sarcastic smirk sent chills down Don Alejandro's back. "You can relax, old man. I'm not coming to continue our little "discussion". There's been a change of plans.

"I'll have to admit that Don Diego proved to be quite different than your alcalde led me to expect. He said your son was a weakling, a bookworm, hopelessly inept at anything requiring any real ability other than book knowledge. He told me that Don Diego was notorious for disappearing any time there was anything remotely dangerous or physically demanding going on. I fully expected the man to be begging you to tell anything you might know about Zorro, even before we started questioning you.

"De Soto obviously doesn't know your son as well as he bragged that he did, or else he deliberately misled me. Considering what he was wanting from me, I can't see any reason for him to have done that."

There was a grudging respect in Ramiro's voice as he continued, nodding toward Diego. "That one is about as weak and flabby as a blade of Toledo steel! You know my history, de la Vega. I've…ah, shall we say…entertained many men over the course of my career, for many reasons." He stared Alejandro straight in the eye as he continued. "I can't think of one who ever withstood the type of beating your son received without at least once begging us to stop, or begging us just to go ahead and kill him and get it over with.

"I've been thinking about this all night. I still don't think you and the lovely senorita were telling the truth when you said you don't know Zorro's identity. But I really don't believe I want my men and me to be here when Zorro comes looking for you. And that could be any time, now. So, old man, when we leave here, you're free."

Alejandro was trying to process everything Ramiro was saying, but those last two words shook every other thought away. We're free? He's letting us go? WHY?

"Do you expect me to believe you just intend to let us go free to identify you to the alclalde's men? You said you also wanted revenge for your brother's death. Why should I believe you've changed your mind?"

"Oh, I haven't changed my mind about that, Don Alejandro." Ramiro's sadistic smile returned full force. "I know what I did to your son, senor. I am amazed he's still alive this morning. He doesn't give up easily, does he? I think that letting the two of you live, knowing that you could have prevented his death simply by giving me El Zorro's identity, will be acceptable as that "payment with interest" we discussed yesterday morning. Don't you?"

As Jose Ramiro turned and strode cockily from the room, not even bothering to latch it behind him, Don Alejandro de la Vega wilted. He had aged at least ten years in the past twenty-four hours. For the first time in his life, he truly felt old. And defeated.

Victoria stretched over and placed her hand on Alejandro's arm. Her eyes were full of compassion and love for the old don, and something else Alejandro still hadn't quite figured out, yet. She seemed, however, to have come to an acceptance of Diego's love for her, and he could tell from her distress throughout the night that she had also come to a realization that she returned that love, at least to some extent…despite her well-known attachment to El Zorro.

"Don Alejandro, we couldn't have told him what we didn't know. And if we had been able to tell him who Zorro is…" Her voice broke, and fell to a whisper as she began to sob again. "Diego was right. It would only have made matters so much worse."

Alejandro watched her as she touched Diego's face, lovingly pushing back that errant lock of hair yet again. Oh, my son. Why couldn't you and Victoria have discovered each other sooner? You might have had a better chance than you realized of winning her away from Zorro. Dios! Diego, don't leave me. Please, son.

They sat there. The last time they had tried to switch positions, even that carefully guarded movement had sent Diego into a spasm of agonized coughing. Aside from that, though, there was nothing. No gasping. No moaning. At times Alejandro held his own breath, just watching Diego's chest for the minute rise and fall that was all that told him his son was breathing. Diego's head still rested in his father's lap. Alejandro's legs had been asleep for a good half hour, but he didn't even consider trying to move.

Victoria just sat beside them, never letting go of Diego's hand, her gaze rarely leaving his son's face. The expressions on her face continued to puzzle the old don. There was love. Definitely love. Sorrow. Definitely that, too. I understand those.

Pride. Awe.

Awe? She may have known that Diego "had feelings" for her, but I'd wager she had no idea how strong those feelings were. I never dreamed Diego could be so secretive! I wonder…is it possible that he's just shy with women? After all, he was so young when his mother died. The only women he was really around much after that were the servants. I wonder if he ever even courted a lady in Madrid?

Pride. Victoria's proud of Diego. Have I ever once told my son how proud I am of his accomplishments? All of the things he's done with the newspaper, his generosity and charity, the way he doesn't look down at the peasants like so many of the young caballeros do. The way he's raised Felipe, and helped him overcome his handicaps.

Diego was still really a boy himself when he first found Felipe. It would have been so easy to have just deposited him at the nearest orphanage and forgotten about him. Add in his deafness, and the trauma from the loss of his parents, and not many men Diego's age would have taken on that kind of responsibility. Let alone have succeeded.

O Madre de Dios! Felipe! I hadn't even thought about him. He's considered Diego his father for years, now. They're so close. If Diego dies, how do I tell that child he's lost ANOTHER parent? After all he's already gone through, what will it do to him? Jesu, please help us! Please don't take Diego away from Felipe…or Victoria….or from me. Por favor, Dios. Por favor.