It had been five days since Diego had been shot. Five of the worst days of Felipe's life.
Diego was not a good patient, to say the least. He'd stayed, dutifully, in bed for the first two days, but after that he couldn't contain himself any longer.
His injury made sure he couldn't go farther than the parlor, but that was far enough. Far enough anyway for Diego to receive Juan and others of their servants. That meant Felipe couldn't control access to Diego, couldn't keep the others from bringing him news from the pueblo and from the de la Vega ranch.
The news was very bad. The pueblo was in as bad a shape as it had been when Diego had returned from Spain so many years ago. The alcalde, convinced that Zorro would no longer interfere with his plans, had reinstated all the laws Zorro had fought over the years. Taxes were raised to their highest levels despite the strain the outlaws had placed on many of the merchants. The alcalde was going from business to business and farm to farm, collecting the tax from those few who could pay, sentencing those who could not to public beatings or worse.
It seemed the news of Zorro's death had ignited the outlaws as well, and they rode, unchecked across the lands surrounding the town. The de la Vega ranch, earlier protected by Juan and Diego's careful precautions, lost a half-dozen cattle the first night, and the second had seen the looting of several of the tenants' houses. It was clear that Juan and the others didn't want to trouble Diego with this news, but the situation was getting increasingly worse, and there was no one else to whom they could turn. Diego had reimbursed those whose homes had been damaged and offered temporary housing in the dwellings adjacent to the hacienda where Maria and Buena and some of the other house servants lived. Alejandro and Diego did not have as heavy use for servants as many other caballeros, so there had been some space, but it was filled now. Felipe didn't know what they would do if more came. Some of those who came were not even farmers on de la Vega land, but Diego didn't turn them away even so.
Today, Diego, apparently weary of life, had decided he had to ride out again with the vaqueros to see just how bad the damage was and what might be done about it. The wound in his side had closed over to the point where he no longer strictly needed to bandage it and he'd regained some of his color, but his activity over the last few days had had its cost. The wound wouldn't properly heal, and had a tendency to tear open if he spent too much time out of bed. It was obvious, too, that it made walking difficult and drained away the strength from what rest Diego granted himself.
Juan and the others didn't appear to much like the plan any more than Felipe, but what could any of them do? As the weeks had gone by, Diego had given up all pretenses of his assumed personality, at least among his men, and they'd come to depend upon him. Their people clearly needed direction and were only too grateful when Diego offered to provide it.
*You can't do this, * Felipe signed as they went out into the yard, not caring who might be watching. *You're still not anywhere near well enough. *
Diego threw the gathered men a glance but then spun and grabbed Felipe's shoulders. "Felipe, my friend, I know you are concerned, but there must be an end to this argument," he said lowly. "These people look to us for protection. In my father's absence they are even doubly my responsibility. I cannot abandon them, nor will I as long as I have strength to do so. I would appreciate your help in this, though I will understand if you cannot grant it."
Even Felipe could not argue with that. This was not Zorro talking, but the de la Vega in Diego. Don Alejandro might have given the same speech.
*Please be careful. * Felipe said, tired of arguing, too tired to protect Diego from himself any longer.
Diego squeezed his shoulder and then swung into the saddle of the horse with no sign of injury beyond a slight tightening of his face.
Juan looked at him for a long moment but then shook his head and they moved out. Felipe watched after, feeling angry and useless.
He went to his room and tossed himself on the bed. He should probably sleep. Diego wasn't the only one who'd been losing hours of sleep the last month. Felipe worried nearly as much as Diego about the plans of the alcalde and the hordes of bandits who seem to have centered on their town and his friends who lived out on the ranch. But he just couldn't see why it was only Diego who could answer these problems and why he had to pay the highest price.
He curled up into a miserable ball. Things had just kept getting worse and worse. Felipe had to admit that he was probably even more guilty than the rest of thinking that Zorro would eventually come up with a solution, or at least he had been at first. But he hadn't, because he couldn't, and if even Diego couldn't do anything, who could?
He spent a few hours tossing and turning on his bed, trying to find some sleep so he'd be rested when Diego came back.
The sound of men in the yard came through his window, startling him from his restless slumber. He blinked in surprise. The sun was casting long shadows through the window, making it late afternoon at least. Diego had left in the morning. He ought to have been back hours ago.
Felipe ran out of the room and out toward the yard. Diego had promised to keep the ride short. He'd _promised_ . Diego wasn't the type to make such promises lightly. If he was hurt . . .
The sight that greeted him in the stable yard brought him to a sudden stop.
Juan, leaning heavily on Rodrigo, was making his way painfully towards him. His left arm looped over Rodrigo's shoulder, but the other hung limply in a bloody sling. A dirty strip of cloth wound around his head and, combined with his torn and bloody clothes, it gave him the look of one of the outlaws they'd been tracking.
Juan looked up at Felipe, a horrible, guilty, pitying expression on his face. Felipe began to shake his head. No, no, _no_.
He couldn't see . . . there was Diego's horse! . . . but then the men shifted and it became clear that the saddle was empty.
_Where was Diego._
He spun towards Juan. The vaquero took another step and nearly collapsed. Rodrigo said something, but Felipe couldn't hear beyond the ringing in his ears.
This couldn't be happening. It _wasn't_ happening.
But Juan took another step and shrugged off Rodrigo's arm so he could grip Felipe's shoulder. Felipe tried to push it off, but Rodrigo grabbed his arm.
"It's all my fault, I should never have let him come." Juan stopped, closed his eyes, shook his head.
Felipe wrenched himself away from Juan and Rodrigo. Juan nearly fell again but for Rodrigo's support.
*What have you done with Diego? Where _is_ he? *
Juan didn't understand his signs, but it didn't matter.
"I am sorry, Felipe. Don Diego is missing."
Author's Note: Yes, I know, another Convenient!Bandit attack. It's not the last of them either, I'm afraid. It's partially why it's been taking me so long to finish this story. I was trying to think of another way to take this story, but this idea jumped into my head a few months ago and _would not go away_. So, we're all stuck with it. This attack actually _does_ have a logical explanation, which we'll get to in the next section.
Also, I'd like to thank everyone who sent me feedback in the last week. If I didn't reply, it's not that I don't appreciate it. Mid-semester is just kind of a crazy time for me.
Diego was not a good patient, to say the least. He'd stayed, dutifully, in bed for the first two days, but after that he couldn't contain himself any longer.
His injury made sure he couldn't go farther than the parlor, but that was far enough. Far enough anyway for Diego to receive Juan and others of their servants. That meant Felipe couldn't control access to Diego, couldn't keep the others from bringing him news from the pueblo and from the de la Vega ranch.
The news was very bad. The pueblo was in as bad a shape as it had been when Diego had returned from Spain so many years ago. The alcalde, convinced that Zorro would no longer interfere with his plans, had reinstated all the laws Zorro had fought over the years. Taxes were raised to their highest levels despite the strain the outlaws had placed on many of the merchants. The alcalde was going from business to business and farm to farm, collecting the tax from those few who could pay, sentencing those who could not to public beatings or worse.
It seemed the news of Zorro's death had ignited the outlaws as well, and they rode, unchecked across the lands surrounding the town. The de la Vega ranch, earlier protected by Juan and Diego's careful precautions, lost a half-dozen cattle the first night, and the second had seen the looting of several of the tenants' houses. It was clear that Juan and the others didn't want to trouble Diego with this news, but the situation was getting increasingly worse, and there was no one else to whom they could turn. Diego had reimbursed those whose homes had been damaged and offered temporary housing in the dwellings adjacent to the hacienda where Maria and Buena and some of the other house servants lived. Alejandro and Diego did not have as heavy use for servants as many other caballeros, so there had been some space, but it was filled now. Felipe didn't know what they would do if more came. Some of those who came were not even farmers on de la Vega land, but Diego didn't turn them away even so.
Today, Diego, apparently weary of life, had decided he had to ride out again with the vaqueros to see just how bad the damage was and what might be done about it. The wound in his side had closed over to the point where he no longer strictly needed to bandage it and he'd regained some of his color, but his activity over the last few days had had its cost. The wound wouldn't properly heal, and had a tendency to tear open if he spent too much time out of bed. It was obvious, too, that it made walking difficult and drained away the strength from what rest Diego granted himself.
Juan and the others didn't appear to much like the plan any more than Felipe, but what could any of them do? As the weeks had gone by, Diego had given up all pretenses of his assumed personality, at least among his men, and they'd come to depend upon him. Their people clearly needed direction and were only too grateful when Diego offered to provide it.
*You can't do this, * Felipe signed as they went out into the yard, not caring who might be watching. *You're still not anywhere near well enough. *
Diego threw the gathered men a glance but then spun and grabbed Felipe's shoulders. "Felipe, my friend, I know you are concerned, but there must be an end to this argument," he said lowly. "These people look to us for protection. In my father's absence they are even doubly my responsibility. I cannot abandon them, nor will I as long as I have strength to do so. I would appreciate your help in this, though I will understand if you cannot grant it."
Even Felipe could not argue with that. This was not Zorro talking, but the de la Vega in Diego. Don Alejandro might have given the same speech.
*Please be careful. * Felipe said, tired of arguing, too tired to protect Diego from himself any longer.
Diego squeezed his shoulder and then swung into the saddle of the horse with no sign of injury beyond a slight tightening of his face.
Juan looked at him for a long moment but then shook his head and they moved out. Felipe watched after, feeling angry and useless.
He went to his room and tossed himself on the bed. He should probably sleep. Diego wasn't the only one who'd been losing hours of sleep the last month. Felipe worried nearly as much as Diego about the plans of the alcalde and the hordes of bandits who seem to have centered on their town and his friends who lived out on the ranch. But he just couldn't see why it was only Diego who could answer these problems and why he had to pay the highest price.
He curled up into a miserable ball. Things had just kept getting worse and worse. Felipe had to admit that he was probably even more guilty than the rest of thinking that Zorro would eventually come up with a solution, or at least he had been at first. But he hadn't, because he couldn't, and if even Diego couldn't do anything, who could?
He spent a few hours tossing and turning on his bed, trying to find some sleep so he'd be rested when Diego came back.
The sound of men in the yard came through his window, startling him from his restless slumber. He blinked in surprise. The sun was casting long shadows through the window, making it late afternoon at least. Diego had left in the morning. He ought to have been back hours ago.
Felipe ran out of the room and out toward the yard. Diego had promised to keep the ride short. He'd _promised_ . Diego wasn't the type to make such promises lightly. If he was hurt . . .
The sight that greeted him in the stable yard brought him to a sudden stop.
Juan, leaning heavily on Rodrigo, was making his way painfully towards him. His left arm looped over Rodrigo's shoulder, but the other hung limply in a bloody sling. A dirty strip of cloth wound around his head and, combined with his torn and bloody clothes, it gave him the look of one of the outlaws they'd been tracking.
Juan looked up at Felipe, a horrible, guilty, pitying expression on his face. Felipe began to shake his head. No, no, _no_.
He couldn't see . . . there was Diego's horse! . . . but then the men shifted and it became clear that the saddle was empty.
_Where was Diego._
He spun towards Juan. The vaquero took another step and nearly collapsed. Rodrigo said something, but Felipe couldn't hear beyond the ringing in his ears.
This couldn't be happening. It _wasn't_ happening.
But Juan took another step and shrugged off Rodrigo's arm so he could grip Felipe's shoulder. Felipe tried to push it off, but Rodrigo grabbed his arm.
"It's all my fault, I should never have let him come." Juan stopped, closed his eyes, shook his head.
Felipe wrenched himself away from Juan and Rodrigo. Juan nearly fell again but for Rodrigo's support.
*What have you done with Diego? Where _is_ he? *
Juan didn't understand his signs, but it didn't matter.
"I am sorry, Felipe. Don Diego is missing."
Author's Note: Yes, I know, another Convenient!Bandit attack. It's not the last of them either, I'm afraid. It's partially why it's been taking me so long to finish this story. I was trying to think of another way to take this story, but this idea jumped into my head a few months ago and _would not go away_. So, we're all stuck with it. This attack actually _does_ have a logical explanation, which we'll get to in the next section.
Also, I'd like to thank everyone who sent me feedback in the last week. If I didn't reply, it's not that I don't appreciate it. Mid-semester is just kind of a crazy time for me.
