Diego thought there had been no way to avoid offending Victoria when they packed the cart. He offered advice, advice that any sensible man would have taken in his stride. He should have lifted the heavy bags without a word, but he was trying to treat Victoria as an equal. Flustered he covered his confusion by offering her a hand to climb abroad the cart, but she had avoided him.

Communication was his main weakness, he decided, as Victoria drove the cart. They travelled in silence, as Diego's confidence had faltered altogether and Victoria was still offended. If they weren't going to talk, what was the point of working together?

"So where are these caves meant to be?" Victoria said, firmly. She stared straight ahead, ignoring him completely. He wasn't completely sure she had spoken at first.

"Diego, the caves?"

"Oh, they are around the foothills of the mountains, mostly. There are a few on higher ground, but how good can children be at climbing?"

"I don't know, Diego. How good were you at climbing?" This time she glanced at him, her voice firm and sharp. "Whatever you managed, you can expect children to do better. It's not as if you were that adventurous surely?"

And today had started so well, Diego thought with an inward sigh. She was a few years younger than Diego and not invited to adventure with her younger brothers in the mountains. If she had forgiven the offence of being treated as a girl, which he somehow doubted, she had the evidence of the last couple of years to consider any tales of adventure over-exaggeration at the very least.

Her eyes were not soft. They had that fire within that matched her mood, irritated and frustrated and maybe she was wondering why. Her lips were pressed together in thought, and she shook her head.

"That's not fair. I'm sorry, Don Diego. I shouldn't bring your weaknesses up in front of you."

Far better than behind my back, Diego thought. Her eyes had lost the hardness and had softened. Maybe she was irritated because she still expected more from him, Diego thought.

"No offence taken," Diego said, swallowing the bitterness of the lie.

"Tell me about the caves," she said, flicking the reins to make the horse trot rather than walk.

"They are very extensive," Diego said. He stared into space, remembering a few adventures that he had been scared at the time he would never overcome. He had been on the verge of death a few times, due to unexpected crevices and cliffs. He'd never tell her that, or his father.

He had feared he was lost more than once and had somehow stumbled on an exit. That was before he managed to map the caves properly. The fear had probably sparked the idea of the map. At the back of his memory, the map was still there, blurry in patches, but simple enough. If he didn't go too far, there was no danger at all.

"I explored them for years," Diego said. "I got to know the layout pretty well, although it has been a number of years since I've ventured out. I was more flexible then."

"Children are more agile in general," Victoria said. "Children can be like mountain goats. Most little ones have no fear of heights."

"Your brother was a little bit afraid of heights," Diego said, thinking back. Young Ramon Escalante had witnessed Diego's dramatic fall that had narrowly missed killing him. He had survived with a broken arm and bruised ego. He couldn't remember which hurt the most. Ramon was more hesitant than the other boys from then on.

"Well, it shows that the Escalante family is cautious and clever."

"It does indeed. I owe my life to your brothers, they saved me more than once."

"Really?" Victoria sneaked a look at him. Diego was gazing at the mountains, remembering adventures that had happened long ago. "Comments like that make one think there is more to you than people say…"

"I hardly think a foolish childhood carries over to adulthood as courage. Quite the opposite. An adult is more cautious especially since experience makes one aware of the dangers. I would never do some things again. The foolhardy antics of a twelve-year-old are quite blood-curdling."

"How could such courage just die like that? What happened to you, Diego?"

"That isn't courage, Victoria. That was a boy showing off to his friends, and lucky to find his way to safety. That is pure recklessness. Not bravery."

"What do you consider to be courage then?"

Diego thought for a moment, concentrating on the horse in front of him. He focused on the rhythm of the horse's movements and they soothed a strange uneasiness that had arisen. He decided to be honest.

"Courage. It is having the knowledge of the risks and dangers and threats and acting anyway. Very few people are truly courageous. I am certainly not courageous." He considered the fact that he could not bear the idea of telling either his father or Victoria any of the true facts of his life an example of pure cowardice.

"Sometimes you are, Diego. Those times you spoke out… That proved you were brave."

"What times?"

"That time you stood up for the pueblo over the water issue, the newspaper, Thackery…"

"Some of that was foolishness," Diego said, sternly. "Stupidity is not courage."

"A lot of that was calculated. The newspaper is very deliberately thought out. Thackery...there was no way you should have survived that fight."

"Thackery was a boastful idiot. Someone had to stand up for you," Diego said with annoyance. "That day I didn't prove my courage, I proved that I could lose my temper like any other fool."

"Well, Diego," Victoria said gently. "I certainly appreciated it. I was so worried about you. I was almost pleased you wrenched your ankle."

"My ankle?" Diego said, wondering why that was significant. Yes, that had been his ruse to stop the fight before he revealed his skills or Thackery could succeed in killing him.

"Don't you remember?"

Diego remembered. Her hands had been soft as she had tended to the 'injury', bathing his foot and strapping it up. He felt his face grow warm and turned his head. It was bad enough that he blushed over the memory, but if Victoria noticed there might be trouble.

Something glinted from up high in the mountains. Sunlight reflecting off a piece of metal or glass. It shocked Diego out of his memory and he composed himself quickly. Surely that was not a natural reflection?

Possibly someone with a telescope was standing up there. It suggested an adult with schemes not a group of children, but he had had a handheld telescope as a young teenager, so it was possible.

"What is it, Diego?" Victoria had noticed his attention had diverted from her to the mountain. "Can you see the children?"

"Someone is watching us," Diego said, grimly. He hoped it was a friend and not an enemy.