Zorro pulled back on the reigns, slowing Tornado to a walk as he listened, ears straining against the wind. He slid a gloved hand along the silky neck as the stallion tossed his head impatiently.

"Easy, boy." The words an absent murmur.

He frowned. The soldiers had vanished into the canyon nearly a twenty minutes earlier, a canyon, which by the sound of it, was now home to river. If the men had found the road to be blocked, a likely scenario, they would have turned back long before now, which meant they would be visible from his vantage point. And yet they were not. Zorro urged Tornado forward, allowing the stallion to pick his own path along the rock strewn trail. The roar grew louder as they neared the bend, amplified by the steep rock walls. Tornado suddenly shook his head and planted his feet firmly against his master's intent to continue.

"I know, my friend, I too feel something is not right. We must at least investigate, eh?"

The stallion shook his head, emphasizing his disagreement, but gave in as his master urged him forward. Zorro's concerned frown gave way to alarm as they reached the ridge which overlooked the road, or what had once been the road. A wagon was wedged firmly in between two large boulders, foaming water nearly topping its sides, and braced precariously on the seat were a woman and a small girl. Sergeant Garcia and the lancers were gathered on the far side of the river, along with a man and a small boy. A rope was stretched between the wagon and the shore, braced by the soldiers with Garcia serving as anchor.

A daring plan but it had the potential to succeed. Zorro edged Tornado along the path slowly, not wanting to break their concentration, as one of the soldiers and the man began to make their way cautiously along the rope and into the river.

"Zorro!"

He acknowledged the boy's cry with a small nod as they reached the water's edge. The men in the river never faltered as they inched toward the wagon. He dismounted in case they required assistance, removing his silk cape and looping it over the horn of his saddle as he watched the scene unfold. The men had reached the wagon, struggling to remain upright against the strong pull of the current. Zorro's eyes narrowed as the wagon shifted. His slid his sword belt free, securing it to his saddle and exchanging it for his whip as the stressed wood gave an ominous creak.

The woman leaned forward, lowering the girl toward the outstretched arms of her father. As she did, the wagon gave a sharp crack and broke free of the boulders, the momentum tossing the woman and the girl into the river. The soldiers were drug forward as the wagon was tugged into the current. Garcia shouted an order, his voice booming over the roar of the river, and the soldiers dug their heels into the rocky bank. Zorro watched the churning surface of the river with sharp eyes as the rope pulled taunt.

Reyes was the first to surface, easily visible by the blue of his uniform jacket, next the man and then his wife, her sobs frantic as he pulled her to the rope. Zorro bolted forward, leaping along the boulders as he scanned for the girl. His heart gave a surged of relief as he caught sight of her crawling onto a low boulder ten meters away.

"Be still, little one." He called to the girl, wincing as her foot slipped against the wet stone.

She sat down, a miserable huddle against the stone. She couldn't have been more than four years of age, and he vowed that she would see five. He flashed a reassuring smile, which widened as he found her focus not on him but on Tornado, who had followed and was dancing impatiently along the path above them.

"Do you like horses, little one?" He called in a soothing tone as he studied his options.

She nodded, shivering. The rock was near the center of the river, too far to be easily reached from either side. An old gnarled tree leaned over the river, just above the rock. It was dry and brittle and was unlikely to hold his weight long enough for him to retrieve the girl and return them both to safety. It might have held her light weight but was too far above her head to be reached. Voices grew louder on the opposite shore as the rest joined them.

"Maria!"

Zorro winced as the girl turned quickly in response to her father's cry, nearly sliding from the rock.

"Remain still, Maria." He called out, holding a hand to motion the others back.

Garcia held up the rope, but Zorro shook his head. The river was too wide and too strong to throw the rope across, and the girl too weak against the strength of the current. It was a miracle she had reached the rock at all. Reyes shouted a suggestion that eluded Zorro on his side of the raging waters, but he watched as Garcia gave a hesitant nod and the men moved further upstream. The line was knotted securely under the Corporal's arms and then braced as he made his way cautiously into the river. Zorro nodded his approval as he watched the corporal's progress.

It was a decent plan and might have worked, had the water not begun to rise. The girl stood, balanced precariously on a small bit of dry space, whimpering fearfully. They were out of time. Without further thought, Zorro unfurled the whip and snapped it toward the branch. The black leather wound tight around the wood and held as he pulled. His boots left the ground and the branch groaned beneath his weight as he swung low, arm outstretched, catching the girl. The branch buckled and they dipped closer to churning surface of the river. His dark eyes hardened with determination.

"Garcia, catch!"

He used their momentum to toss the girl toward the opposite shore, and into the waiting arms of the sergeant. And then, with a massive crack, the branch fell.

And the river swallowed him whole.