Zorro lost the rebels' tracks some twelve miles east of the pueblo, yet, by then, he was certain they'd be heading for the seashore.
The rain caught him by surprise as the sky gave no indication it was coming before night fell. Wondering for a few moments what to do, he decided he needed to return to searching for his father at first light. And, seeing how returning to the hacienda would have only delayed him, he decided to head west. Not far from him, there were some shallow caves he knew of. There, he and Tornado would find shelter for the night, so that they might restart the search at first light.
ZZZ
Caught up in conversation, Don Alejandro and Zafira didn't realize when time went by.
Pancho and the other men returned a little after midnight, dripping wet. After changing their clothes, they all decided to sleep in the kitchen and spread some blankets there.
Once again, Zafira, Don Alejandro, and Mariano, who was preparing a fresh pot of willow bark tea, were left alone. By then, hardly anyone even remembered the Viscount, who had been forced to remain in that uncomfortable, sitting position till dawn.
The night was hard for the young woman to endure. She prayed to God to save Joaquin's life, while, at the same time, remembering how she had watched her brother die of a similar injury, just a few years earlier.
As morning came, though, her worry started to fade away. Joaquin had won his fight. His fever was almost completely gone, and Zafira took off his bandage to notice, with relief, that her medicine had worked its magic and the wound showed no more signs of infection.
The rebel leader woke up as she was reapplying the ointment that had saved his life, and smiled happily at seeing her. "I didn't dare hope to see you again in this life!" he said as good morning.
She smiled at his words. "I will never leave you, even if, at times, you are so foolish as to allow yourself to be shot!" Zafira assured him. "You should know that by now."
With their leader feeling much better, the rebels decided they needed to take their chance, and head north, far away from Los Angeles and the most immediate of the dangers they were facing.
ZZZ
At dawn, seeing how the rain had stopped during the night, Zorro left his shelter and restarted looking for his father and the Viscount. Returning to the last place he had found the rebels' tracks, however, was not the smart thing to do at that point. Seeing how the rain had surely erased them all. So, he decided that, instead of tracking them, he should search for them.
Considering the previous night's rain, the fact that they were not a very small group, and were traveling with a severely injured man, he easily concluded that they had very few options for accommodation in the area: a couple of caves hidden in the nearby ravines and three farmhouses. The caves, however, only few people knew about, for they were well-hidden, and not easily found by those who were strangers to the territory. The farmhouses, on the other hand, were far more comfortable and could offer shelter for the horses. Wondering where to start looking, he remembered that one of his tenants and his family were away at the time, so their house was empty.
"If I was a rebel, fighting for the people, and looking for shelter while, at the same time running from the authorities, I would not risk invading someone's home. It could cause a confrontation, or a child might run and alert the garrison. An uninhabited house, however, does not present the same dilemma." He said out loud, only Tornado there to hear him.
Having made up his mind, he directed the horse towards the Serranos' farmhouse.
ZZZ
"Are you certain he's strong enough?" Pancho asked Zafira, ignoring the fact that Joaquin was perfectly conscious and able to hear everything.
"I can even ride if needed," the rebel leader said.
"I doubt it." His wife retorted. "Prepare some room for him in the wagon. I will care for him and make sure that he is alright. His fever broke, but he's not out of the woods just yet." She then addressed Pancho.
"Alright." He said, and, taking two of the other men with him, headed out.
"There is one problem," Nando uttered.
"What problem?" Zafira inquired.
"Them," he said, glancing at Don Alejandro and the Viscount. "What shall we do with them? They can't come with us…"
For a few moments, Zafira and the other men there glanced dumbfounded at the two people who were, after all, strangers to the group.
"The don has no interest in joining us," Nando continued, "and the Viscount would just slow us down at this point."
"And what do you suggest we do?" Joaquin inquired. "You took them…"
"Leave the don here, and shoot the Viscount before we leave." The man said.
"Shoot him? No!" Zafira protested. "We are not murderers!"
"She is right, Señor. If you kill him, you'll prove yourselves to be just what Risendo accused you of being." Don Alejandro said, addressing the rebel leader, hoping he'd see sense.
"And what do you know about that?" Joaquin asked.
"I told him everything." Zafira said.
"He's a stranger. Why bother? And why would he even care?" Her husband asked her.
"Risendo did his best to hurt me, as well, Señor." The don said. "I know the man, and I know what he's capable of. Don't let him be right about you…"
"Our affairs are none of your business, Señor!" Nando replied, realizing his leader was hesitating. "You helped Joaquin and we freed you from jail in return for your service. Now, we are even, and what we do with that scum is our decision to make."
"You cannot fight injustice by committing it. I know that much, Señor!" the don insisted, his tone becoming harsh. "Executing a man without trial is a crime!"
"He did the same when he ordered my brother executed." Nando retorted. "I have every right to take his life in return. Now, get up!" he ordered the Viscount.
"Nando!" Zafira tried to stop him, but her husband caught her hand.
"Let him be! He's right. A life for a life." Joaquin said.
The gagged man shook his head as "no" but found himself forced to stand up as Nando cut the rope tying his legs.
"You can't do this!" Don Alejandro insisted, following the two as the rebel was dragging his hostage out and behind the house.
"Put down the gun! This place is surrounded!" De Soto shouted at that point from atop a nearby hill.
As Nando, the Viscount, and Don Alejandro glanced in his direction, they noticed that the twenty soldiers accompanying the Los Angeles alcalde had their muskets pointed at the house, while his own gun was pointed at the rebel set on killing the Viscount.
The other rebels, also noticing the soldiers when Ignacio spoke, hurried to seek shelter inside the house, asking Zafira to get on the floor, certain a shootout was to soon follow. Her husband sheltered her behind himself. Taking a gun and ignoring the pain in his abdomen, he prepared to fire from the cracks in the walls.
"Come get him if you dare!" Nando said, forcing the Viscount to stand between him and the lancers, his pistol pressed against the nobleman's head.. "The way I see it, you are the ones who will have to put down your guns!" he continued.
For a few moments, silence reigned.
"I don't believe so.," the Alacalde uttered, slowly moving towards one of the marksmen. "You see, Señor, Gonzalez here," he said, "is His Excellency's man/ An excellent shot! He can hit a bottle from 300 feet, so I doubt he'll have any trouble shooting you right in the head. Let go of His Excellency, and you may live to see another day!"
"In your jail? I'd rather die. But I will also take this man's wretched soul with me to hell!" Saying that, he made sure his pistol was ready to fire, and slightly pressed on the trigger.
"He's going to shoot!" De Soto concluded. "Get him!" he instructed Gonzalez.
Right then, from the house, the rebels discharged their guns into four of the lancers, including Gonzalez, who, instead of firing at Nando, found his aim deviated towards the Viscount. Had it not been for Don Alejandro, who, attempting to save the nobleman, took advantage of the momentarily distraction and launched himself on top of the two men, the Viscount would have surely perished that day.
"Shoot them! Shoot them!" De Soto ordered, hiding behind some boulders, as both sides emptied their weapons at each other.
ZZZ
Zorro was less than half a mile away when the shootout started, and, despite knowing Tornado was already tired, he pushed him to go even faster, all the while praying he was not going to lose his father that day.
As he neared what was now a battlefield, he halted the stallion and, reaching in his saddlebags, he pulled out two teargas explosive devices.
At that point, the rebels, having discharged their guns, were now dueling the soldiers, while some of the lancers were recharging their muskets.
From what he could clearly see, the rebels were all about to get massacred, despite the resistance they were putting up. They were outnumbered four to one, and the lancers were quite enraged because of the injuries they had caused to their compadres. Zorro, however, didn't have the heart to let them die there, especially knowing what kind of people they were fighting against. Not to mention that Zafira was the sister of a good friend of his and, wherever the man was, he felt like he owed him to make sure that she was alright.
The two teargas explosive devices he threw at the lancers caused the men to hurriedly disperse.
The masked outlaw, whose appearance only increased the chaos, using his whip to avoid getting too close to the teargas, managed to refocus the lancer's attention on him, knocking out the ones still intent on fighting.
That gave the rebels just enough time to get Joaquin and Zafira out of the house and into the already-prepared wagon and flee.
"Head for the coast! I will make sure they will not follow you!" Zorro told them as he was temporarily done fighting the lancers, and neared the wagon just as they were leaving.
"Nando is not with us…" Zafira warned the others.
"I'll find him. Now go!" the masked man encouraged them, slapping the horses to get them to start.
As the young woman and her companions left at full speed, Zorro turned to see about De Soto and his lancers.
He noticed the alcalde just as the man, grasping his sword, stood up and headed towards him.
"I commend you for the skill you proved in finding Correna and his men, De Soto!" Zorro said mockingly as he prepared to face him. "Soon enough you might even be able to find your way back to Spain…"
"You've interfered for the last time, Zorro!" Ignacio uttered, instead, as he charged. "I have enough men with me to capture you!"
The masked outlaw easily parried, and continued to do so as his opponent did his best to disarm him. "Really?" He said. "And how will they capture me if they are all busy crying?"
Again De Soto attacked, but, this time, after he parried, Zorro went on the offensive and, now, the Alcalde was retreating, hardly able to stop his opponent's fast attacks, and becoming more and more reckless in his moves.
"Instead of planning for the impossible," Zorro said at one point, "you should be planning on improving your swordsmanship! It is truly abominable!" As soon as he said that, he disarmed De Soto, and punched him so hard that the man fell to the ground. "I'll never tire of that!" Zorro remarked for himself as he took a moment to stare, smiling, at De Soto's unconscious body.
Then, glancing around and noticing that the lancers were still trying to recover, he spotted Don Alejandro lying in a pool of blood, and, fearing the worst, he headed for him.
"¡No! ¡Dios!" he muttered, momentarily forgetting to breathe, as he grabbed the old caballero and turned him to face him in an attempt to check on his injury.
"Zorro?" the don surprised him by uttering with delight. "What are you doing here?"
"I…" the young man stuttered, dumbfounded. "I was coming to save you and the Viscount… when I heard the gunfire. How badly injured are you?" he inquired.
"The blood is not mine." Don Alejandro replied, glancing towards Nando who, having been hit in the neck during the initial shootout, bled out before anyone could do anything to help him.
Zorro let out a breath as he attempted to calm his racing heart, then looked sadly towards the dead man, before glancing at the Viscount. "I see you made it, Your Excellency," he remarked, just as a bullet flew past him, scratching the nobleman's cheek.
Glancing back, Zorro spotted a guardsman recharging his musket. "Since my presence is no longer needed here, I believe it is time for me to go," he told Don Alejandro, standing up, about to hurry away. "And, seeing how these men have no intention to do you justice, perhaps, you should come with me," he continued, helping him up, as well. "I'll make sure you are safe!"
The caballero shook his head. "No, Zorro! I will seek justice in court. I have no intention of becoming a fugitive. But you should go!" He replied.
Another gunshot was heard, and a bullet made a hole through the masked man's cape. A few inches to the left, and he would have been hit in the lung.
"If that is your decision, I wish you good luck, Don Alejandro! Adios!" saying that Zorro hurriedly mounted Tornado, and headed away just as the eager lancer finished reloading his musket again. Fortunately for the black-clad outlaw, he was too far away for the man to hit him this time.
Don Alejandro watched him leave for a few moments, then, turning towards the Viscount, he took off the man's gag and untied his hands. "I guess you are free now, Your Excellency!" he said.
The nobleman, first checked his injured cheek, grimacing at the sight of his own blood staining his hand. Then, he glanced at the elderly caballero as if trying to read his mind. Nodding, he then stood up.
"De Soto!" the Viscount shouted, "I will have your head! And yours!" he pointed at the guardsman who had mistakenly wounded him.
ZZZ
Zorro had not left right away. He could not do so before making sure his father was truly safe. Instead, he guided his stallion towards some boulders situated a few hundred feet away and dismounted there to watch what happened after his departure.
Making sure no harm was to befall Don Alejandro at that point, he re-mounted Tornado, and headed in the direction in which the rebels had gone. He reached them about half an hour after the fight with the lancers had ended, and called for them to stop.
Grateful for his help, they did so.
"Do you have news of Nando?" Zafira hurriedly asked.
He nodded. "Yes, but I fear it is not the news you might be hoping for."
"What do you mean?" Pancho inquired.
"I am sorry to tell you this, but your friend was shot in the neck. By the time I got to him, he was already dead."
"Oh! Poor Nando!" Zafira muttered, saddened. "Are you certain there was nothing to be done?"
"Nothing. I had to leave him there, but I will make sure he is given a proper funeral."
"We should do that for him!" Joaquin uttered.
"That would be very unwise." Zorro retorted. "Right now, you need to leave this territory. After today, every lancer in California will have orders to shoot you on the spot."
"It's the same in New Spain," Pancho replied.
"Then, may I suggest you head someplace else? South America, perhaps?"
"We still have to cross New Spain to reach it…" Mariano pointed out.
Zorro seemed pensive for a few moments. "Perhaps not," he said. "Head for the coast. About a mile southwest of here, there's a small bay. Wait there!"
"Señor," Joaquin called as the black-clad man was about to leave, causing him to stop and turn towards him. "When first we met, you aided the lancers. Now you are helping us. Whose side are you on?"
"I, Señor," the masked outlaw said, "am on the side of justice. Attacking the lancers was unjust of you, for they were only following orders. They are good men, and I helped them because they needed my help. Today and the other night, I helped you because, while I may not agree with your actions, I do support the same cause you do: the cause of freedom. After all, there is no justice where there is no freedom."
Saying that Zorro saluted, taking a hand to the brim of his hat, and headed away.
ZZZ
Gilberto Risendo was not a happy man as he traveled back to Los Angeles a few days later. Judge De la Paz could neither be bribed nor convinced on the matter at hand. He had stopped all attempts by the young man to talk to him about the charges and the evidence against Don Alejandro. True, Gilberto was missing a very important piece of information.
Judge De la Paz was a good friend of Don Alejandro's and took pride in choosing his friends quite carefully. He had known the caballero for decades and had always admired his character. For a stranger to try to change his mind about someone he considered he knew very well, was unthinkable to him.
As they arrived in Los Angeles, the first thing Gilberto noticed was that none of the Viscount's men seemed to be anywhere in sight. That was strange, but, he decided, surely, there had to be a simple explanation for it.
Dismounting before the cuartel, he headed for the Alcalde's office to inform him that the judge had arrived.
ZZZ
In the meantime, De la Paz descended the carriage he had traveled in, and entered the tavern, hoping for a good meal.
"Alejandro," he uttered in amazement at seeing the old don there.
The elder De la Vega looked at him, unable to understand what the man was doing there. "Judge De la Paz!" he exclaimed as he stood up to greet him. "What brings you to Los Angeles?"
"What brings…" the man looked around in confusion, "But I was brought here to preside over your trial!"
"My trial? Oh… You were not informed, then? The Viscount of Castillo de Almansa made sure De Soto released me and declared me innocent. You just missed him. He and his men left this morning for San Pedro."
"That's good news, my friend! Very good news!" the judge replied with enthusiasm. "Not that I missed the Viscount, of course. I am sure he is a… a worthy man. I mean, that I am glad I don't have to listen to those fantasies about you being a traitor! I doubt I would have been able to keep a straight face. Like anyone would believe such foolishness!"
Saying that, the judge sat at the don's table, and was soon rewarded for his trouble of travelling there by Victoria's empanadas.
ZZZ
"How could you let it happen?" Risendo shouted at De Soto.
"There wasn't anything I could do…" Ignacio told him. "The Viscount didn't even want to hear me out. As if it was my fault that his own man injured him! He said he'd make sure I'd be recalled home as soon as he gets back to Court."
"As you deserve! I don't know what I was thinking when I recommended you. I should have had Hidalgo appointed to this office since you keep proving to be quite incompetent!"
"I'd be careful with that tone, Gilberto! I am still alcalde here, while you don't even have your men anymore. I doubt it's wise to chase away your last remaining friend." De Soto retorted, standing up, his reaction shocking the younger man, who was used to seeing him submissive.
"What do you mean, I no longer have my men?"
"The Viscount decided that, since they are no longer needed here, they should return with him to Spain. Oh...," he continued, "Before he headed for the port, the Viscount also left this for you." Saying that, Ignacio opened a drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope, handing it to Risendo.
His former commander took it and, without a word, headed outside, where his horse was waiting.
De Soto couldn't help but slightly smile mischievously as he watched through the window as, stopping next to the tired stallion, Gilberto opened the envelope, read its contents, then crumpled the paper in his hand.
ZZZ
While ambitious and severe, the Viscount had never been an imbecile, nor was he unable to realize when he was being manipulated. He liked Gilberto because he had always considered that the young man shared his own ambitions and values, but, mainly, because Risendo had always known how to make himself useful to him. That, however, didn't prevent him from making certain observations about the young man's character during their six-year-long friendship, most of which he had attributed at the time to his youth and eagerness to prove himself.
Zafira's conversation with Don Alejandro corroborated with the man's actions caused the nobleman to start wondering about all he knew about his protégé, beginning with the reason why he had had to save him from bandits in the first place. If Gilberto was capable of bribing famished women and staging a crime in order to rid himself of someone he perceived as a rival, who was to say he had not paid the bandits to attack that day when they first met? That, in turn, could mean that Gilberto was responsible for the injuries suffered by his wife during that episode. He didn't like thinking he could have been manipulated to such a degree; fooled into helping a man who caused his family harm. Now, however, he began facing that possibility.
He also started considering that, if Risendo had done what the young woman had said, Don Alejandro could also be no more than the young man's newest victim.
And, whatever the young man was scheming, it seemed obvious that he had made sure to De Soto in all of it.
Thinking of the white-haired official, it was not hard for him to remember the incident Zafira had mentioned. True, he had not witnessed Ignacio's humiliation but several of his friends had been there that day, and had made sure to recount everything to him. In fact, searching his memory, he could still remember some of their remarks.
The entire ride back to Los Angeles, after he was miraculously rescued by the elderly De la Vega, the Viscount considered the information he had received during the ordeal.
He also started putting together other pieces of information he didn't even realize he had before then. Like how he had heard talk about a young swordsman, trained by Sir Kendall, winning all the local competitions in early 1808. Or overhearing Risendo telling Lieutenant Hidalgo that there had only been one better swordsman in his generation, and he had made sure to get rid of him.
The Viscount wasn't sure what the man's name was but, the more he thought about it, the more he was becoming convinced that it had been De la Vega.
Yet, despite it all, he would have still given Gilberto the benefit of the doubt, had it not been for a conversation he had had later that day, while he was still considering what to do about Don Alejandro.
"He is no traitor. On the contrary. He's a good, law-abiding man, faithful to our king. If anyone ever claimed the opposite, I fear that someone is lying to you," the Count had told him.
"If you are truly certain of that, I will let him go, then." He had promised the nobleman, mainly because, after the old don had saved his life, and given all the doubt he now harbored, the Viscount was by no means inclined to go forth with the execution. All he needed was a reason to free the caballero and the Count's assurances seemed good enough.
"Before I return to the pueblo to do that, however, will you tell me something, Don Sebastian?" he inquired just as he was about to leave the man's imposing villa. "You are said to be better informed than even the Viceroy; certainly better informed than other people around here. Do you know, by chance, what happened to Don Diego de la Vega, Don Alejandro's son?"
"I do have some information I didn't yet dare give Don Alejandro." His interlocutor had replied, an affirmation that only managed to puzzle the Viscount.
"Why? If it concerns his son, surely he should know…" he pointed out.
"That might be so… But I know him; just as I know that, should I share with him my knowledge on the issue, he will decide to challenge both Don Gilberto and the Alcalde to a duel. And, while justice should be on his side, I doubt Don Alejandro is still the fighter he once was."
"So… You believe them to be responsible for the young man's fate…"
There was a certain look in the Count's eyes, as well as a certain assertiveness in his voice when he answered: "I don't just believe it. I know it to be so."
In the end, that was all it took for the older man to finally come to terms with his error in judgment and decide that Risendo had never truly deserved the trust he had placed in him.
So, given that Correna and his men were rumored to have left the territory, and he had no real reason to continue protecting Gilberto Risendo – on the contrary – he decided the time had finally come for him to return to Spain.
Before leaving, though, he did make sure to leave a note for Gilberto, in it mentioning some rather unpleasant conclusions he had reached about his character. He also informed the young man that, as soon as he'd be back in Spain, he'd open an investigation into his past actions, and ended his message by suggesting that Risendo should consider the findings of such an investigation, as well as their repercussions, before deciding to return to Madrid.
ZZZ
"I am failing, Mother," Risendo told Inez two days later.
"You mustn't give up, Son! We can still succeed!"
"How? I have no more men left. I can hardly take care of the ranch all by myself. And you will have to cook and clean the house, seeing how we have no one else to do it."
"Nonsense! Surely you can find people in need of work!"
"Yes… But nobody in Los Angeles wants to work for us. I will have to sell the horses just to make ends meet. We are trapped here, now. I can never return to Spain…"
Inez puffed. "That hardly matters, as long as we achieve our objective in coming here. When that don is dead, as his firstborn son, you will inherit everything of his."
"There's nothing left, remember?" Risendo pointed out, enraged with himself. He should have asked the bandits to share the money or, at least, had his men follow them and get it back. In his hatred for the old man, he didn't care at the time that the thugs were escaping with what should have been his inheritance. I truth, he didn't care about that inheritance at all at the time.
"De Soto still has the property deed, does he not?"
"Yes. But now it's worthless, considering the Count bought the property."
"It must be worth something…"
"The taxes I collected for it. But that money is long gone."
"Then find another way to make money! And stop this foolishness with horse breeding. You are not meant for farm work!"
"I know. I certainly know that, Mother!" Gilberto said, and exited the house, slamming the door behind him.
"Ah, Don Gilberto!" the Abbot called just as he exited, and the young man saw the monk's wagon stop in front of his house.
"Padre…" he greeted and headed towards him.
"I was just on my way to Santa Paula when I saw your house, and decided to stop by since I have something I wanted to talk to you about."
"Really? And what might that be?"
"Well, my servant recently asked me to hire a nephew of his from Monterey. The young man's home burned down, and, lacking other options, he decided to come here. But I have no need for another servant, so I was wondering if you might find him something to do. I thought about asking Sebastian first, but he has plenty of servants. I doubt he needs another one. You, on the other hand, I hear you might be in need of some help around here…"
"Yes… I do, indeed, need to hire some helpers. But how did you know?"
"The Viscount left accompanied by all your men. The entire pueblo knows that by now, Don Gilberto…"
"Right… "
"He says he would do any type of work you need. He can even cook. All he asks for is a place to stay and a steady income." The padre continued.
Gilberto hesitated for a while, then nodded. "Very well…" he said. "Send him to me. If I like the man, I'll give him a job."
With that, he turned around to leave, not noticing the monk's mischievous smile at his answer.
ZZZ
"How is Joaquin today?" Pancho asked Zafira as she was staring at the endless sea, about a weeks after they had departed California.
"Better. You just missed him. He had come to take some air, but returned to our cabin just a few minutes ago," she answered.
"Excuse-moi, Madame," a sailor said as they stepped away from one another to allow him to pass through.
Pancho glanced after the man, then at the other members of the crew on deck. "I will never get used to the idea of being helped by the French!" he muttered.
"These men have been nothing but kind to us! Had they refused to give us passage, considering the risks they are taking for doing so, we might all be hanging at the end of a rope right now..." she pointed out.
"Had it not been for Zorro, you mean! He's the one who ended up saving our lives..." he corrected her. "I still can't understand the man."
"I believe I can." Zafira said with a puzzling smile.
"Really? Don't tell me you believed all that talk about justice and freedom!"
"His words were true, Pancho. I know they were. But he also had another reason to help us." Zafira told him.
"What reason?"
"My brother."
"Your brother? How so? He died years ago and had never even met Zorro!"
"No. But I am rather certain he met the man Zorro once used to be..."
"You are making no sense, Zafira! What are you trying to say?"
She didn't reply, just shrugged her shoulders as she smiled at him, then bowed her head a little, and turned to head for the cabin she was sharing with her husband. "And the crew? Why are these men helping us?" Pancho inquired.
"Because, obviously, their employer had asked them to." Zafira retorted as she turned around, winked at him, then disappeared below deck.
Pancho continued to stare after her, puzzled by her words. He then glanced around, scratched his head, and grabbed an apple from a small sack that was waiting to be carried to the lower deck. "Women! They always think they know everything…" he muttered displeased before taking a bite.