Diego sat on a low bench in the tavern, his eyes closed and his head resting on the wall behind him. The rough wood was uncomfortable, but Diego cared little, and in truth, between the pounding in his head and the fire in his leg he barely noticed the discomfort. Voices drifted around him but he paid them little heed. I am such a fool. I should have stopped him. I should have done something, Diego berated himself.
Warm hands touched Diego's cheek and he opened his heavy lids. His father's tanned face peered back at him. Worry etched deep furrows in Alejandro's brow and he seemed weary to Diego. "Come Diego. Let's get you to a room so Doctor Hernandez can fix your leg." Diego nodded and Alejandro helped his son stand. Don Fernando stepped forward and both he and Alejandro managed to get Diego up the stairs and into a small room. Diego fell heavily onto the bed. He could not remember being more exhausted in his life. Even hours of sword practice at the University left him with more energy. His eyes felt dry and heavy and he found it hard to keep them open.
Diego started when a hand pressed on his leg and his eyes flew open as pain laced his nerves. "Ahh…what?"
"It is all right, Diego. I am sorry, but I have to stitch and wrap your leg. I am going to give you some tea. I want you to drink it and rest for a while." Doctor Hernandez patted Diego's calf and smiled at the weary Don. "It will hurt Diego, but I will be quick."
"It is fine. Do what you have to Doctor." Diego managed a small smile before he closed his eyes. He barely registered the other men in the room. His father sat at the head of the bed, his brown eyes dark and shining as he stared at his son's face. Fernando sat in a chair in the corner watching Doctor Hernandez. Don Carlos was also present and he stood by the door, guarding it from the Commandante whom he knew would soon arrive. Don Armanda, Rafael, and Ramiro also stood in the hall keeping the door safe from unwanted guests.
Within a couple of minutes Doctor Hernandez had stitched the leg wound and had wrapped a clean bandage around the inflamed area. He also cleaned and wrapped the cut along Diego's ribs, even though it was superficial. "Diego, I need you to sit up. Drink this," he said as he retrieved a steaming cup from the nightstand and placed it to Diego's lips.
Diego sank into the bed gratefully. The tea was warm and soothing and he felt his body relax. Diego gave into the tea and was soon asleep. Alejandro stayed by his son's side long after his breathing deepened and his body fully relaxed. The others, save Don Fernando, wandered to the lower floor and sat around a large round table, a bottle of wine nestled among glasses and empty food bowls. They sat quietly in the tavern long after the sun had fallen and the guests had made their way home. The tavern had been full after the fight and the Dons were slightly surprised by the amount of well wishers who stopped to see if Diego was going to be all right. The Dons assured them that Diego would be fine after a few days of rest and the townspeople left their table with smiles and shoulder clasps.
The Dons were not surprised that the only conversation in the tavern, and the entire pueblo they expected, centered on the fight. Diego had surprised even the Dons who knew his secret. They had never seen Zorro fight so intensely and it was strange seeing Diego with a sword. Gratefully, the only conversations that included both Zorro and Diego involved who would win in a duel between the two men. Surprisingly, it was Diego who seemed to come out the victor a good deal of the time. Still, many agreed the fight would be even more wondrous then the one they had just witnessed. It was strange, many admitted, seeing Diego fight. He was truly his father's son they decided, spirit and all. The vaqueros, the Indians, and the farmers all wondered if Diego would keep his sword or if he would set it aside and resume his usual persona. Many departed company wondering what the next weeks would bring for the de la Vegas and almost all said a blessing for Diego.
Don Carlos excused himself from the table and turned to the stairs. Doctor Hernandez had promised to return within a few hours and Carlos expected him any minute. Before going to Diego's room, Don Carlos grabbed a pitcher of fresh water and two cups. He climbed the stairs and knocked softly on the door. Don Fernando opened the oak door and stepped outside into the hall. "I was just coming down. Alejandro is sleeping and so is Diego. I will wake Alejandro when Doctor Hernandez arrives. Has Monastario been here?"
Don Carlos shook his head. "No…and that has me worried. I expected him to come raving about Zorro and the death of Ignacio, but it has been quiet. He has me worried."
"One can not trust our Commandante. He always seems to be planning something. Well, there is little we can do about it. I will meet you down stairs. I am sure Alejandro will appreciate some cool water when he awakens." Fernando stepped around Carlos and moved leisurely down the hall. He was tired and his body ached. I am too old for so much excitement he chided himself as he took the steps slowly. The tavern was deserted except for the other Dons and the innkeeper.
The stout innkeeper stood behind the counter, his had idly wiping at the counter with a rag. He turned his dark head to the stairs when Fernando stepped out of the shadows. "Would you care for a drink? Wine or lemonade?"
"Sí, lemonade is fine. Gracias." Fernando sat in the wooden chair and leaned heavily against the back. He looked at the men around the table. They looked tired but none seemed ready to go home.
Armando spoke quietly, "We have decided to stay the night. I don't want to take a chance that Monastario will try something. Doctor Hernandez said he would let us know when Diego could be moved to the hacienda. He should be here soon. I know I would feel better if Diego was at the hacienda. I am sure you would as well. It will do both Alejandro and Diego good to be at home where everything seems normal."
Armando's voice lowered, "Ignacio will be buried at first light. The sooner it is done the sooner things go back to how they should be. The last few weeks have been quiet the ordeal. Oh…a vaquero brought word that Bernardo is awake and doing fine. He should be out of bed in a day or two. I gave the vaquero a letter for Bernardo explaining what has happened. It will be good for Diego to know his friend is healing…"
Armando stopped his words as the tavern door flew open. Two soldiers filled the opening and Armando and the other Dons stood and faced the doorway. The soldiers parted as they entered and behind them Monastario stepped into the room, his figure dark against the night sky. Monastario took in the defensive stances of the Dons and the warning looks they gave him, but he ignored them. They were no threat to him. At least not yet. Monastario knew he could do nothing against Diego until he had proof. He was certain the masked bandit had been a decoy. There was something wrong about him and Monastario had spent the last few hours trying to figure out what it was. He could not pinpoint what was off about the man, but that did not ease the feeling that the man in the mask was not truly the Fox.
Monastario brushed passed his entourage and stepped further into the room. A smile crossed his lips as the Dons shifted toward the stairs. The Capitán ignored the unspoken threat and strode boldly toward the stairs. He had some questions for Diego and he would not wait until tomorrow or the next day. A man had been killed, and while Monastario knew it was Ignacio who forced his own death, Monastario was not about to let that stop him from barraging Diego with questions about the duel and Ignacio's death. The Commandante was hoping to get evidence he could use against Diego. What that evidence would be and how he would obtain it, Monastario did not know. But he was certain he would find something out if he spoke with Diego.
Monastario's smile vanished as he found himself blocked by four Dons. "You will move out of my way," Monastario threatened, his voice low.
"Diego is sleeping and we have strict orders from Doctor Hernandez that he is not to be disturbed. If you wish to talk to Diego you are going to have to wait until he gets better. You may wait for Doctor Hernandez if you like, he should be here within the next half hour," Don Fernando told the Commandante.
"I must ask Diego some official questions about what happened in the plaza. You are obstructing my efforts and I will have you arrested if you do not move." Monastario threatened as he took another step closer.
Don Carlos spoke as he descended the stairs. "Why are you just now coming to see Diego? It has been nearly three hours since the fight. Surely, if it was urgent you would have been here within the hour. If it has waited this long, Commandante, it can wait until morning –late in the morning."
Monastario glared at Carlos and the other men. He only had two soldiers with him and he knew they would be unable to arrest the five men. Reluctantly, Monastario stepped back. I could go and fetch that incompetent Sergeant, he thought, but that would take too much time and effort. Monastario narrowed his eyes even further and crossed his arms. He had given up on questioning Diego once before; he was not about to back down again.
Unfortunately for Monastario, Doctor Hernandez arrived. He looked at Monastario and squared his shoulders. "You are not to talk to Diego until late tomorrow. The man is wounded and sleeping. I will not have you disturbing my patients. Whatever you were going to ask him tonight can be asked tomorrow. I will let you know when you can talk to him, but tonight, Diego is sleeping and he will not be disturbed."
The Commandante turned to the Doctor, a retort on his lips, but he swallowed his words. It would not do to make the good Doctor your enemy, especially considering he was one of only a few good doctors within a weeks travel. Monastario was mostly certain the doctor would not put his men's lives in jeopardy for something he did, but the Capitán was not about to take a chance. Monastario turned on his heels and his two men fell in behind him. Monastario paused at the door. "I will talk to Diego tomorrow even if I have to bring the entire garrison."
"That man," Doctor Hernandez mumbled as he moved toward the stairs, his black bag clutched in his left hand. "I will be down as soon as I am done." Turning to the innkeeper he asked, "Do you think I could have a late supper when I come down? Anything is fine." Doctor Hernandez smiled as the large man nodded.
Alejandro was slumped in his chair, his head resting on the hard wood and his right hand caught in Diego's hair. Doctor Hernandez watched the sleeping figure for a moment before he gently shook him, "Alejandro."
Alejandro opened his eyes and looked at the tired face of his old friend. Alejandro rubbed his face with his palms trying to wipe away the sleepy feeling that clung to his mind. He stood on wobbly legs and moved to the chair in the corner. He watched as Doctor Hernandez checked the stab wound and replaced the bandage. Diego stirred but did not awaken and Alejandro breathed a sigh of relief. Diego needed rest and he was glad he was sleeping. "How long will the tea make him sleep?"
"Normally only a couple of hours, but Diego is exhausted. Hopefully he will sleep until morning. Sleep is very important and Diego needs to rest tonight if we are going to move him to the hacienda tomorrow. It is not a bad wound, but with something this deep, I am worried about an infection. It is important for Diego to rest and eat. I will have some broth brought up in the morning. If he wakes in the night, give him some more tea.
"Come down stairs and have supper with me. I have not eaten. Don Carlos and the others are waiting to hear about Diego. There is nothing you can do for him. He should sleep for the next couple of hours." Doctor Hernandez bent and retrieved his bag. He stuffed the remaining bandages into his bag and closed the top before turning toward the door. Alejandro stood for a moment watching his son, but he turned and followed the doctor down stairs.
As Alejandro descended the stairs he realized that it was finally over. Diego was safe and Ignacio was out of their lives forever. While Alejandro knew things would never be the same, he recognized that some things had changed for the better – most notably his relationship with his son. Even if they had to contend with Monastario in the future, Alejandro knew in his heart they could outsmart him. For the first time in several months, Alejandro felt like things were falling into place and that nothing could destroy the relationship he was forming with Diego, the real Diego. No matter what Diego decided, Alejandro would accept his son's choice. If he could chose, however, he would ask Diego to lay down his sword once again. Zorro was the fighter, the hero. Alejandro was satisfied with his son playing the role of poet and scholar.
ZZZ
A soft light fell across Diego's eyes and he turned away from the offending sun. His head felt heavy this morning and his leg was stiff and sore. Diego licked his dry lips and winced slightly when his tongue found the swollen gash on his lower lip. Reluctantly he pulled himself into a sitting position and rested his head on the wall. It took him a moment to realize he was in the tavern. His fight with Ignacio was fresh in his mind, but the events afterward were hazy. Guilt burned through Diego with surprising intensity and he closed his eyes against it. There was nothing I could do, he rationalized to himself, but the feeling did not leave him.
Resigned that he would have to live with the emotion, at least for a while yet, he looked around the room for a distraction. A pitcher of water sat on the night stand and Diego gratefully filled the cup beside it. He savored the cool water on his parched throat and lips. The sun filtered through a curtain, but Diego guessed it was early morning. The tavern was still quiet and Diego heard few noises outside the window. Shifting his body, he pulled the covers away from his legs and looked at the white bandage wrapped neatly around his thigh. Diego probed the wound tenderly and winced slightly at the pain. Stupid, he chided himself. I never should have trusted Ignacio. I played into his hands and it nearly cost me everything.
Diego wondered suddenly if his secret was safe. Had Monastario seen through the diversion or did he believe the masked man he saw was truly El Zorro? Diego hoped the man believed Ramiro had been Zorro; otherwise, Diego was certain Monastario would not wait long before he arrested him. While he may have survived his encounter with Ignacio, Diego could not forget the threat of the Commandante and his accusations. Perhaps if he became the foppish, passive Don he had been since his return from Spain, the Commandante would lose interest and find someone else to harass. No, Diego thought, I would not want someone else to suffer because I am Zorro.
Diego suddenly remembered Bernardo. Doctor Hernandez had assured Diego that Bernardo was fine and that he would recover quickly, but Diego would not be satisfied until he saw his friend with his own eyes. Perhaps he could talk his father into letting him return home today. His wounds were not serious and he would be more comfortable in his own room. Besides, he had to take care of Tornado. With Bernardo wounded and in bed, there was no one else to see to the horse. Except perhaps his father. Alejandro had been around Tornado before and the horse trusted him. A smile crossed Diego's lips and he felt the skin around the cut pull, but he held the smile despite the slight pain.
Alejandro found Diego sitting up in bed, a smile showing his white teeth. "Mí hijo. You are awake. It is good to see you smiling, but I had not expected you to be jovial today."
Diego's smile faltered but he replaced it with a slighter version. It eased the tension on his cut lip and reassured his father. "I was thinking of you. Well at least, something you could do for me." Alejandro looked puzzled as he crossed the room, he arched an eyebrow and Diego continued. "I will be confined bed no doubt for several days and Bernardo is still healing. I would like for you to take care of Tornado."
Alejandro's eyes were large and the light of the rising sun made them shine. He smiled to his son as he nodded, "I would love to help with Tornado."
"Gracias. Give him an apple and he will follow you around like a faithful puppy." Both men laughed at the thought of Tornado trailing behind Alejandro begging for a treat. Their carefree moment was shattered as a knock sounded at the door. "Enter."
Doctor Hernandez stepped into the room. His face lit up to see Diego sitting in bed, a bemused smile on his lips. "I see you are feeling better. I came to check on your leg. How does it feel?"
"Stiff and a little sore, but otherwise it feels fine."
"No sharp pains or cramping?" Doctor Hernandez inquired as he removed the bandage. He nodded in satisfaction at the healing wound and rewrapped it with a clean bandage. "What about your ribs?"
"Nada," Diego replied. He touched his ribs and felt little pain. The cut was shallow and more of a nuisance than anything else.
"Good. You should be fine in a week or two. Stay off the leg as much as you can, especially for the first week. Let me know if you have any problems. Change the dressing daily and I will give you a poultice in case of infection. You can go home later this afternoon, but I want you to rest until then. Monastario is likely to stop by soon to ask you some questions. Don't forget Diego, we are behind you no matter what happens." Doctor Hernandez packed his bag and left. The door shut quietly behind him.
Diego felt his eyelids droop and he squirmed into the covers. Alejandro sat by his son's side until he fell back to sleep. He didn't expect Diego to sleep long so he went downstairs to find his son breakfast and to get himself a glass of orange juice. Don Fernando and the others were seated around a large table, enjoying fresh eggs and fruit as Alejandro entered the common room. He joined his friends and was barely through his plate when Monastario entered the tavern. Sergeant Garcia filled the doorway behind the Capitán.
Monastario saw Alejandro and pointedly ignored him. He turned toward the stairs and crossed the room swiftly. Alejandro and the others rose to follow him. Monastario was at the top of the stairs before they cleared the common room which was now packed with early travelers, farmers, and merchants. Monastario flung the first door open and smiled when he saw the Don lying in the bed. Crossing the room swiftly, Monastario tapped Diego's check. "Wake up, Diego. I want to ask you some questions," Monastario ordered, triumph laced his words.
Diego stirred slowly and opened his hazel eyes to stare into the piercing gaze of Capitán Monastario. "I know you are Zorro Diego. That cheap trick last night was useless. I do not know who that man was, but he was not Zorro."
TBC