The tall vaquero moved. Victoria had thought he had passed out from all the alcohol he had consumed, but he had been watching the little show intently. He moved slowly and with deliberation. The stranger stood as tall as Diego, but he was nothing like her friend. The shadows were dense but nothing could hide the raw power in his movements. He was definitely strong and determined. Not like Diego at all.

"Capitan Destara," he said. His voice was powerful, and a lot like Zorro's. For a moment, Victoria thought it was Zorro, but he hadn't spoken to her or appeared to want to draw attention to himself in any way. Zorro would never do that.

There was the sound of metal moving slowly and effortlessly. A sword from a sheath, Victoria realised.

"Wench, make yourself scarce…" The man said, and the aggression in his voice frightened her. Destara was watching the man carefully.

"No, Victoria. Stay," the Capitan said softly. Victoria hesitated. She didn't want to be ordered around by either of the men.

Alejandro de la Vega had reacted to the sound of swords being drawn, and had moved across the room.

"Victoria, over to me, I think," the man said gently, and she rushed to his side. He put an arm around her protectively, and she felt instantly safe.

Swords clashed as soon as she had left the immediate area. The tall man stepped into the light, and Alejandro drew in his breath. "Diego, what on earth?" It was definitely his son. Why hadn't he recognised him before? Jack was so obviously Diego, but it hadn't clicked. Hadn't Diego been a master at drama at University and even afterwards?

"That can't be Diego," she whispered. The man was dishevelled and wearing vaquero clothes and a large hat no one had recognised him. Stubble covered his chin, and he was very drunk. Drunk and very very angry.

Victoria almost dashed back to him, but Alejandro held her back. "I heard what he said before, Victoria. I doubt he knows who you are. It's not safe," he said softly.

"He'll be killed."

"Destara knows who he is, he'll be careful," Alejandro said. "He'd better be," he added, with a touch of concern.

Alejandro's eyes widened at the swiftness in which Diego mastered the situation, even while drunk. Destara didn't put up much of a fight.

"Diego de la Vega!" Destara uttered, and faltered badly at the very beginning, and Diego quickly took advantage of it.

Destara's sword had left his hand, under what circumstances it was hard to say. The man may have dropped it on purpose, but the way Destara's hands were trembling suggested abject fear.

Diego's sword ended up resting dangerously at Destara's chest, and for some reason, Diego seemed to want to deliberately hurt the Capitan. He started to put a little too much pressure on the man's chest, making the man fear for his life.

"Diego, I had no idea. Indeed I did not…" Destara was saying. His voice shook as he tried to put some firmness into it, but failed. "Just like Madrid, hey? You do have a weakness for the ladies, my friend. I'm sorry…We're friends, aren't we?"

Victoria wondered about what he was saying. They had faced each other before? In Madrid? Ladies – she would never have expected Diego to have a weakness for the ladies. She could imagine ladies having a weakness for him – she had seen evidence of that more than once.

"Are you going to kill me this time, de la Vega?" Destara didn't feel a change in the pressure of the blade. Any more pressure would prick him…the look on Diego's face was hard, and murderous. Destara didn't like his chances.

Alejandro held his breath. He was watching Diego's face, and Victoria saw the determination in Diego's eyes. Alejandro didn't know what to say to stop his son. He felt like he knew nothing about him. This man blinded by rage, and a swordsman with a reputation. How on earth had that happened to his son?

"Please, Diego. Don't hurt him," Victoria said firmly, despite the shaking in her body. Alejandro still held onto her, as she almost stepped towards Diego. "It's not his fault. I did the wrong thing. Please. I led him on. You must have seen…"

She glanced around the room. Where was Zorro? How had this happened?

Diego's eyes flickered vaguely in her direction, and he lowered the sword half an inch. Before Destara could react, Diego's fist swung and the man crumpled helplessly to the ground, as the fist met face.

"I told you," Diego said, staring at Victoria's stunned face, as if finally recognising who she was. "He would have…" He seemed to stumble a little as the adrenalin wore off, and couldn't finish his own sentence. He shook his head to try and clear it.

Alejandro took advantage in the indecision in Diego's face.

"Diego, give me the sword, please." Alejandro walked towards his drunken son, with the confidence of a father. Diego hesitated and then handed him the sword handle first. Alejandro sighed with relief.

"Alejandro he is swaying," Victoria said, noticing Diego almost fall. She had not moved from where she had sheltered in Alejandro's arms. Alejandro supported his suddenly dizzy son, and shook his head.

"Come on, son. I'll get you to bed," the older man said. "I can't ever remember having to do this for him before, Victoria. Can we have our normal rooms?"

"Of course."

"Diego, my son, where did you learn to fight like that?" Alejandro said with confusion. "Diego has never been drunk before, and now he does all this?"

Victoria watched the older man support his son up the stairs towards their rooms, and realised that she had pressed her finger tips into her folded upper arms, as if trying to shield herself from the unexpected dangers of the night. Her fingers had dug little bruises into her flesh, and she sighed as she rubbed them gently.

"I'll get you a basin," she said, automatically factoring in the morning after preparations. "He's going to need it."

Diego was going to wake up a very sick man indeed. She wondered if he would remember the strange encounter with his old friend.

Alejandro helped his son with his boots, dragging them off his son's feet, after laying Diego on his normal bed. His son soon began to snore, which was slightly amusing since Diego never snored.

Alejandro examined Diego's hands and face intently. How did he miss his own son's face? The moustache was not that important was it? He had shaved the moustache off, but had let stubble build up. He was covered in dirt, grime and sweat. His hands were roughened, and calloused from working hard with horses and ropes, and his nails were dirty. He had trained wild horses, built fences, and rough housed with other rough men. He had been good at his work.

Diego had played the Frenchman to perfection, fooling everyone around him, including his own father. His French had been careless and full of slang, and he had sounded like a native speaker.

Victoria brought up the basin for the morning, and a soft damp cloth. Sergeant Mendoza and the alcalde wandered up the stairs.

"Don Alejandro, what has happened here?"

"My son is back. He seems to have drank a lot of wine…"

"I had reports of an unruly vaquero in a brawl over here."

"The vaquero has left, alcalde. There was a little disturbance and the Capitan was injured but I'm sure he will be alright in time."

"Diego is drunk? That seems very strange…"

"I have never seen him drunk. It is very strange."

"Good to have him back, Don Alejandro…Where did Jack go?" Alejandro was glad that Mendoza was slightly foolish, and that he had already started to wash Diego's face.

"I'm not sure, Sergeant. Perhaps he ran away because the alcalde was on his way. The man was brawling with the Capitan, you see." Alejandro was aware of the lies he was saying, but it came a little too easy.

"I told Jack not to get into trouble, but maybe he still doesn't understand much Spanish."