Diego woke in the chilly hours of predawn and huddled
deeper into the comforting warmth of his blankets.
Exhaustion turned all of his muscles into painful leaden
weights and it felt decadently good to just lie there not
moving. The fatigue was getting to the point where he was
almost too tired to sleep and it was finally beginning to
concern him. Felipe, his poor friend, had been out of his
head over it for weeks and resultantly had gotten little
more rest himself but there was no help for it.

The problems with lawlessness had not grown any better in
the pueblo no matter how many men Zorro might round up.
During the day Don Diego was needed in increasing frequency
to handle the problems on the hacienda, though, thanks to
the general competence of the de la Vega vaqueros, that was
not as much of a problem as it was at the other ranches.
But the other caballeros, used, perhaps, to coming to
Alejandro in times of need, still turned to the de la Vega
hacienda, if not for advice, at least as a friendly place
where they might commiserate over their troubles. So Diego
moved his rides with the ranchers back even earlier as he
was not ready to give those up. And when the dons came to
tell their tales of increasing woe and to beg information
on when Alejandro might return, Diego listened patiently
and offered what advice he could as discretely as possible.
Mostly he sent Juan around to the other haciendas with
advice for the hands there. People would probably pay less
attention to Juan helping out a few friends than Diego de
la Vega actually showing interest in anything. He thought
perhaps people came to complain to him more because they
expected him to be pleasant and calm about it more than
they wanted action, and that he could do.

The troubles were truly beginning to alarm him. During the
first three weeks of Don Alejandro's absence, the robberies
had mostly concentrated on cattle raiding and the
occasional disruption of a coach into town. But now the
bandits were interfering more with the common farmers and
that, to Diego anyway, was far more troubling.

So, every evening, after Diego had taken another tour of
the ranch and settled accounts for the day, Zorro rode out
over the countryside in search of trouble. He invariably
found it, and it grew bolder by the day. He had the wounds
to prove it, though he no longer allowed Felipe to see
them. Felipe already thought he was getting too reckless,
which was undoubtedly true, but with all that was going on
and his own fatigue, he found he couldn't help it.

De Soto seemed troublesomely quiet, as well, and Diego
couldn't help but feel as if this new found patience didn't
implicate the normally impetuous leader in all this
somehow. But what would De Soto profit from having robbers
invading his pueblo? He wasn't quite as much of a thief as
Ramon, so it wasn't for a share in their profits. No, De
Soto, for all his directness, could be even more
Machiavellian than his predecessor when he chose to be. It
was easy to forget how formidable the man truly could be at
times.

Groaning slightly, Diego forced himself to accept the fact
that the sun was indeed nearly about to rise and he really
ought to be abandoning his warm cocoon no matter how
tempting it might be to lie there for the next week or so.
He decided to leave Felipe asleep although he'd probably be
angry when he woke up. His unfailing loyalty was dear to
Diego, but they didn't both need to be out on the cold
trails that morning and that loyalty had already cost the
boy enough sleep as it was.

And besides, Felipe was sure to notice that Diego was
moving very stiffly from bruised ribs. It was a discussion
he felt he could do without that morning.

After a barely tasted breakfast, he joined the men as usual
in the stable yard.

"You know, Don Diego," Juan said, handing him the reigns to
his horse, "you don't really have to do this. We
appreciate the help and you've proved to know a surprising
bit of tracking, but we men could handle it. We all know
you've been really busy with the other dons coming round."

Diego grimaced, only partly faking it. "I should rather
ride the ranch its entire length twice over than listen to
one more man complain about some lost cow or other."

Juan chuckled. "I always thought you more the social type,
Don Diego."

"I would not precisely call men calling on you to complain
of profit losses a social event," Diego said with
exaggerated boredom. "All the figures make my head ache."

Juan's look told him he wasn't fooling anybody. Diego had
wondered more than once if he wasn't letting too much slip
these last few weeks, but Alejandro wasn't really in the
habit of discussing his son with his ranch hands, so he
supposed it wasn't too much of a danger. Being a bit more
of his true self had become entirely too seductive to
resist in his hassle in any event.

They mounted up as always and headed for the eastern trail
that day. Diego noticed they were accompanied by a younger
boy and looked curiously at Juan. Juan shrugged and called
Miguel over.

"Miguel," he said, "What's Tomas doing here? This isn't
really a job for a young boy like that."

Miguel shrugged in apology. "He's been bothering me and
his mother a lot lately about riding out like Felipe. I
didn't think it would do any harm to bring him along. It's
not like any of these raiders have been spotted during the
day. We've brought him along before."

Juan nodded. "I suppose if it is all right with Don Diego,
I have no problems with it."

Diego could see any number of problems with it, but Miguel
was a good man and he remembered he'd stayed with them,
despite the offer of better pay over at the San Saba ranch.

"I am sure Tomas will prove to be a pleasant addition to
our company," he said finally.

Juan guffawed and spat onto the side of the trail. "I
always told Don Alejandro that you'd grow up to be a
diplomat."

Diego smiled and shook his head.

He kept a close eye on Tomas, but there didn't seem to be
any troubles as they rode through the winding trails over
the property. The banditos had stayed mostly to the north
of the city, away from the de la Vega ranch in general,
though they had definitely noticed some missing cows and
some tracks of trespassers.

He allowed himself to relax a little and diverted his
attention to looking for clues, which was why he'd dragged
himself out of bed to begin with. His tired mind started
to drift off again, and he brought it sharply back to mind
just as he heard the sound of hooves racing over the rocky
ground ahead.

Jerking his head up, he saw a group of five men galloping
toward them. They obviously hidden behind the rise just
ahead and were counting on surprise to win the encounter.
One of them raised a musket and pointed it to a spot to
Diego's right. It went off and Diego heard a shout of pain
as one of his men was hit.

"We need to scatter," Diego said, taking charge without
thinking. "We provide too good of targets like this."

The men, gathering their wits about them, drove their
horses off the trail, and reached for their own guns.
Diego began to follow suit when he noticed the frozen,
terrified figure of Tomas. The
boy was frightened into immobility and he made the perfect
target sitting their on the trail. Diego turned to see
another robber raise his gun and desperately pushed his
horse back toward the boy, wishing fervently that it was
Toronado he was riding instead. Lunging in his saddle he
was able to grab the reigns of the boy's horse and jerk it
out of the way just as the gun went off. He felt a searing
pain across the side of his head and the horse reared in
terror.

"Tomas, run," Diego shouted, trying desperately to control
his horse, though it was terribly difficult to think with
the fire in his head.

The horse reared again and Diego twisted it sharply so that
the flailing hooves wouldn't hit the boy. Unfortunately,
although the move successfully prevented Tomas from being
clipped in the head, it disturbed Diego's seat enough so
that the next time his out of control horse rocked up, he
was thrown violently from the saddle.

He hit the ground hard, snapping his head harshly against
the rocks. His horse, freed from constraint, bolted down
the trail as he struggled with consciousness. The
blackness won for a moment, and when he came to, he found
Juan's concerned face looking down on him.

"Tomas!" he said, looking around for the boy as best he
could.

Juan pushed him more firmly against the ground. "The boy
is all right, just shaken up a bit. He's with his father."

"What about our other men?" Diego said, pushing aside
Juan's hands so he could sit up. His head hurt
ferociously, but he couldn't allow Juan to see that. He
couldn't afford to stop functioning just then and it would
be too entirely out of character for Diego not to take to
his bed if it came out that he was seriously injured.

"You shouldn't be doing that," Juan said. "That bullet
wound is pretty shallow, but it's bleeding pretty fast."

Diego took a snowy handkerchief from his pocket and pressed
it daintily against the wound.

Juan snorted at the gesture and rocked back on his heels,
apparently satisfied that a wound that could be treated
with a scrap of lace couldn't be too serious.

"Most of our men have gone after those banditos. None of
them are seriously hurt. Rodrigo took a slight wound in
the arm, but other than that, you are our only casualty."
He looked reflexive for a moment and then a bit fearful.
"At least until Don Alejandro discovers I got his son
shot."

Diego grinned at him and Juan grimaced in return.

Miguel came over hesitantly, his son cradled against him.
"Don Diego, I owe you the life of my son. I cannot—I do
not know what I can say."

Diego could not regret the actions that had saved the life
of a ten-year-old boy, but it was obvious he'd have to come
up with some explanation for actions so severely out of
character. "Think nothing of it, Miguel. In the heat of
the moment, I merely did what anyone might have."

"You saved my son," Miguel said again. "I owe you, no
matter what you might say."

"Ah, well then," Diego said, "perhaps you might consider
loaning me your horse. Mine seems to have found the
excitement a bit much for his taste. A sign of good
breeding, no doubt."

Miguel smiled palely and nodded. "I'll just ride back with
Tomas."

Juan offered Diego a hand up and hovered in concern as he
swayed a bit.

"Are you sure you are all right?"

Diego nearly told him that this was hardly the first time
he'd been shot, but caught himself just in time.

"Perhaps we should return to the ranch," he said. "I think
Tomas would appreciate a more familiar setting and as for
myself, I find all this blood on my new coat very
distressing. I only hope Maria can get it out."

Juan shook his head. "You get shot in the head and you
worry about your coat. I never did claim to understand you
caballeros, Don Diego."

"It was a very fine coat," Diego insisted.

Juan insisted on helping him onto his horse and
accompanying him back to the hacienda despite his many
protests. Probably a good idea, though Diego found it
increasingly difficult to hide the pain in his head as the
horses jolted over the miles to the hacienda.

By the time they reached the stable yard again, it was late
morning. They found Felipe there, already saddling a
horse. The young man looked relieved until he saw the
blood on Diego's face and collar and then his own face went
a bloodless white.

Diego allowed both Juan and Felipe to fuss over him as he
climbed off the horse. Felipe, as may have been expected,
shooed away the vaquero as soon as they entered the main
house. Maria and Buena came running, but he sent them away
too after demanding some water and bandages.

Diego was broadly grinning at Felipe's imperiousness by the
time the young man had shoved him into his room. The boy
glared at him, but he just grinned wider.

*What happened?* Felipe signed furiously.

Diego shrugged elegantly. "We came across some men. They
caused a bit of trouble and threatened Miguel's son. I
felt obliged to get in the way."

Felipe didn't seem too pleased by this answer. *Did anyone
else get hurt?*

"A man took a bullet in the arm. I am told it is little to
be concerned with, though I will have to check on him
later."

Felipe was gentle as he removed Diego's bloodied jacket and
shirt though his face held a curious mixture of anger and
worry. He sighed a bit when he saw the new bruises on
Diego's side, but didn't ask about them.

Felipe cleaned away the blood in silence. *It is not too
bad* he signed, clearly relieved. His fingers probed
Diego's skull for a moment. He was far too used to looking
for injuries not to notice the large lump forming on the
back of his skull.

"My horse became excited. I am afraid retaining my seat
while keeping the animal from hitting Tomas became
impossible."

Felipe nodded and again strangely had nothing to say on the
subject. Lately the slightest scratch had drawn no end of
censure from the boy.

*Why didn't you wake me this morning?* Felipe finally
signed before cleaning the wound with some alcohol.

Diego winced again at this new pain in his head. "You were
clearly in need of rest and I didn't think we would require
your help this morning. I imagine those bandits chose
today to attack simply to prove me wrong."

Some of the grimness left Felipe's face as he smiled
slightly. He still looked a bit hurt, though.

Once the wound was cleaned, Diego attempted to rise from
his bed, but Felipe shoved him none too gently back into
it.

*You should rest.*

Diego began to shake his head, but Felipe wouldn't give in.

*It will look very strange if you do not.*

That was an argument he had to listen to as much as losing
a full day's work irritated him.

When Felipe saw he wasn't going to argue any further, he
grinned smugly. *Even you can stay out of trouble here.*

"There will undoubtedly be people coming to see me today,"
Diego tried.

*I will tell them that you are ill.*

Diego mulled that over and finally decided that Felipe was
right. He was being foolish. He needed to rest and
another tale of woe would make him wish the bandits had
killed him after all. That resolved he allowed himself to
relax fully into his bed and Felipe obligingly pulled up
the covers.

"I would rather this didn't get out," Diego said, closing
his eyes. It helped to keep the room from spinning. "Juan
and the other men probably won't think much on it, but I
think the alcalde might make much of it if he heard."

Felipe gripped his arm, showing his assent. Diego felt
warm fingers brush his hair from his face and then the bed
shifted as Felipe stood up and gathered the things from
patching his wound. Felipe's fingers closed briefly around
his arm again and then Diego heard the sound of the door
closing as he left.

He supposed he should feel guilty lying here. He should at
least change into something less grimy than his riding
pants, but he seriously thought that Felipe might consider
homicide if he got out of bed.

Besides, his head felt almost normal as he fell deeply into
the soft pillows. The soft caress of the blanket chilled
his heated skin and he had the lovely sensation of almost
floating. He really should look into what had happened
with his men, and the books needed looking after and he
still hadn't entirely thought through De Soto's possible
involvement in all the goings on of late, but somehow, as
much needed sleep robbed him of the energy to ponder these
things too deeply, none of it seemed to matter very much.

One deep breath became two and then a third as sleep stole
over him and he knew no more.