Memories of Shadows: By Karen Powell
Chapter One
Diego, Alejandro and Victoria were catching up on news in front of the tavern when it happened.
What had been a peaceful, sleepy afternoon suddenly erupted into a frenzied chaos! Bandidos entered the plaza seemingly from all sides at once. There were at least 15 men firing into the crowd at random. The sounds of the horses, the shots, the yells from the men, and the screams from the women all combined into a thunderous roar. Two of the peons in the crowd fell to the ground clutching their chests.
Diego was stunned. There was nothing he could do but act, no time to worry about anything else. People were dying!
A small child ran wild and was about to be crushed by the horses' hooves when Diego sprang into action. He whisked the child up in his arms and practically threw the young boy into the arms of his father. Then he bounded for the nearest bandido and wrestled the man from the horse onto the ground. With one masterful punch placed squarely in his face, the man sank to the ground in a lump. Diego whirled around quickly and grabbed the whip anchored to the horse's saddle.
Victoria and Alejandro saw only a blur before them as they watched Diego use the whip like a master to bring down two more bandidos from their horses and dispose of them as he had the first. He showed blinding speed as he used the whip in rapid succession and forced two more bandidos from their mounts. The crowd watched in awe as they saw young Diego de la Vega dive fearlessly under a horse, spin around and grab the reigns causing it to rear skywards and unseat its rider. The whip in his hand lashed out once more to snatch a knife from another bandido's hand and whisk it into his own. Then he turned and slashed at the saddle cinches of the two nearest horses. The men tumbled from the horses' backs and were knocked out with one swift blow each. He had taken care of half the bandidos, but in so doing, he had drawn the attention of the rest of them.
"Get him!" One of them shouted above the noise. The remaining outlaws eyed their amigos littering the ground and hesitated momentarily before regrouping to attack.
It was just long enough for Diego to crack the whip just in front of the nose of one of the horses. The steed panicked, reared and threw its rider off its back and into the dirt in one swift move.
"Diego, watch out!" Victoria shouted as she saw one of the men come up behind Diego. He turned quickly, dodging the thrust of a musket. But behind him, the frightened rider-less horse reared high once more and a hoof came crashing down on the back of Diego's head.
Diego fell to the ground and his world stilled.
The bandidos fired two more shots into the crowd. But at last, the soldiers from the quartel began arriving and firing back. The trained men showered a volley of gunfire at the remaining bandidos and four of the bandidos fell to the ground. Lancers were pouring into the plaza now with muskets and rifles. The bandidos were finally outnumbered and the rest galloped off toward the gates of the pueblo in a hail of musket fire. A cheer went up from the crowd for the soldiers. For several minutes there was rejoicing as the people watched their military men do their jobs. Some soldiers rounded up the fallen bandidos and others mounted up and pursued the bandidos out through the gates. But the cheer died down as one by one they turned and saw the carnage left behind and one lone man lying in the street unmoving and still. A rich man's son who had fought so bravely for all of them!
Victoria was the first to reach Diego. She screamed to the nearest lancer for help in getting him into the tavern. Alejandro quickly found the child's grateful mother, deposited the child into her arms, and rushed over to his son's side. Victoria was already taking control of the situation. She motioned Alejandro to grab Diego's feet while she carefully cushioned his head as the men carried Diego inside.
"I had no idea he was so heavy." The lancer groaned under Diego's weight and called to another lancer to come over to help. Victoria directed the men up the stairs to the room next to hers. The lancer groaned once more as he saw the stairs, but he knew better than to object. The seņorita did not seem to be in a mood to argue.
Seņorita Victoria Escalante was a "modern woman". She was still very young, only in her early twenties, but she had matured rapidly into a very confident and strong willed young lady. She had taken over the running of her parents' tavern when barely out of childhood. The blood of her brave parents, staunch fighters for freedom and justice flowed red in her veins. The sight of her mother's tragic death before a firing squad of a corrupt and unjust government had only given her more strength of character. She could always be counted on to take control of just such a situation. She was in her element when it came to a crisis. She was already shouting orders.
"Maria, get my medical kit, make some bandages of the old sheets in the right hand cupboard and start boiling some water for the doctor!" She knew the doctor would not be able to tend to all the injured without some help. "Tina, go find Dr. Hernandez. He may be out there in the street already. If he is, ask him what he needs and get it for him. Tell him to bring the injured in here if he needs to and ...just tell him ...well, whatever he needs...." Her thoughts had already returned to the man being lain on a bed upstairs. Tears had already made tracks down her cheeks and she was beginning to forget the scene outside. She had to make sure Diego was all right!
When she finally managed to get to his bedside, she was crying outright. She now knew. But, at what a price! She had almost expected to see him lying there with the mask on his face. She looked at Don Alejandro who was trying to stop the bleeding of his son's wound. Had he guessed? And what about the townspeople? But did it even matter? He was lying there so still, so pale. She knew from the sound that blow had made that he was seriously hurt. She took the bandages from Don Alejandro and began to dress the wound gently.
"Victoria, I'm going to go see if the doctor can take a quick look at him. Or at least tell us what to do for him. I'll be back." Don Alejandro took a last look at his son. " I just can't believe..." He shook his head and abruptly left the room.
The dust was still thick in the plaza. The scene that lay before Alejandro reminded him of a battle scene more that a village square. Don Alejandro de la Vega had been on the field of battle as a young man in Spain fighting for his king. There you expected such a scene as this, but here! He waded through the dazed peasants and finally found Dr. Hernandez tending to a young woman with a musket wound in her side. He was having a hard time controlling the bleeding.
"Alejandro, good. Help me. Hold this there." Dr. Hernandez was methodically doing his job as if this background of dust and noise was normal. " The peons are talking about Diego. They say he was hurt. He wasn't shot, was he?"
"No, not shot, but Dr. Hernandez, he suffered a bad blow to the head. I....I know you have your duties here..... but could you tell us what to do for him. He is unconscious. It looks bad...." Alejandro was doing his best to stay calm, but the panic inside him was rising.
"Unconscious? Well, nothing to do but keep him warm and watch him. It's one of the hardest things to treat. But he is young and strong. He should come round. I'll come and have a look at him as soon as I've finished up out here. I fear the good Padre will have even more work than I from this day." He shook his head as he looked around him at the devastation. "Why on earth would anyone ...."
"Yes... I cannot understand this...I haven't seen anything like this since..." Don Alejandro's voice trailed away as he walked back towards the tavern. Many faces turned his way and there were a good many whispers behind cupped hands being passed from one peon to another. Don Diego de la Vega's name was being used with reverence, albeit in whispers. The young Don had surprised everyone that day. This peace-loving caballero who always made a great show of incompetence and uselessness had turned into a hero right before their very eyes. Now his father, Don Alejandro, walked slowly back to the tavern, and the people stood aside silently to let him pass.
********
Diego had not moved.
When the doctor finally made it up to the tiny room where Diego lay, he declared the young man had suffered a major concussion. He tried to gently explain to Don Alejandro that it looked as if this injury were much more serious than he had thought at first. He had examined Diego's pupils and did not like what he had seen. He was afraid to elaborate on his diagnosis, for Don Alejandro did not look like he could take much more. He cautioned Victoria to keep Diego warm and the room quiet and watch for fever. She seemed to be handling the situation far better than Don Alejandro, so he hoped he could rely on her to see that Diego got the care he would be needing. She did seem to be very attentive to him. If only the young man would stir. He hadn't even warned them yet about his true concern. That Diego might awaken but not truly be the Diego they knew. He had seen this kind of head trauma before and knew what it could do to even the young and healthy.
"Well, that's about all I can do for now. I'll return in the morning. Send Felipe for me if there's any change. I will come. And you both should get some rest. You won't do him any good by just sitting here worrying. He may need you more than ever once he does wake up." Dr. Hernandez patted Victoria's hand and nodded to Don Alejandro and left.
"Victoria, I'll stay with him-"
"No, Don Alejandro, you will not. There is a bed two doors down. You will spend the night there and I will stay with Diego tonight. You can relieve me in the morning. But I will not leave him tonight. So don't even ask me to. Now go. You heard what the doctor said. You need your rest. It has been a long day." She took her seat by the bed and turned her back on Don Alejandro.
Alejandro though to himself. "I've never noticed how much she reminds me of Elena!" He took one more look at his son and left the room. "And if she is going to act like my dear departed wife, I may as well resolve myself to doing as she commands!"
Victoria knew she would not be able to sleep this night anyway. All her thoughts would have been of Diego. Diego.... Zorro.... One and the same. All this time and she had not made the connection. How could he have fooled her? She should have recognized his voice, his eyes. Had she been too close to Diego, too familiar with him, to notice? He had even tried to give her clues. She realized that now. The poetry. Telling her she should marry someone "like Diego"! How she must have hurt him. The things she had said. They came back to her now with a clarity that made her cringe. She wouldn't blame him if he never forgave her. Was she even worthy of the love of this man? Now she knew that he desperately wanted her to love him as himself, as Diego. And all she could see was the hero! That was precisely what he had said was his greatest fear that day in the cave. The day Zorro had given her his mother's ring. Dona Elena de la Vega's ring! He was afraid she loved a hero and not the man. And the man, Diego, had been r
ight by her side, day in and day out. Dear, sweet, kind Diego.
The two of them had grown up knowing each other. He had teased her, protected her, angered her, but he had never once failed her in anything. That's why the change that had come over him when he had returned from his four-year stay at the University in Madrid had been so hard to accept. He had come back, not as the matured young man she had expected, but as an overly studious scholar interested only in art, music and science. He had been totally unconcerned about the atrocities being committed in the pueblo de Los Angeles. It was as if he just didn't care. And it had all been just an act.
She had known that Diego had been in love with her for a long time. And because she had held her love for another, she had all but ignored him. It had been purposely done. There were many times that she had felt a powerful physical and emotional attraction to him, but she knew she couldn't give into it. After all she had promised to wait for Zorro. So she had acted the friend, the sister. She had done the same kind of thing with others that she had no intention of letting get close to her. It was something a woman learned to do. Had her own actions kept her from seeing the truth? But he had acted his part well, too. He had hardly ever so much as kissed her hand. Why he scarcely ever looked her straight in the eye! It had always been very endearing that he seemed so shy around her, but now she realized it had been more than that. He was protecting his identity. One soulful look and, well, she might have guessed. After all, his eyes had never been masked.
His eyes. Why wouldn't he open them now! She slipped out of the chair and began praying with all her heart. "Please let him wake up and come back to me." She prayed it silently over and over. Surely, God would forgive the simplicity of it. She stroked his hand and caressed it gently. If he would only wake up and come back to her.... She had so much to say to him. She began sobbing again. The only sound in the room was the sound of Diego's watch ticking. Someone had laid it on the bedside table and the wood was magnifying the sound. It seemed to fill the room. She couldn't even hear his breathing!
For a moment she panicked. Then she leaned forward to touch his chest and found that it was rising and falling. He was breathing. She put her hands to her own breast to quiet her own breathing then bent down and kissed him. It was strange. Diego had never kissed her in all the time he'd known her. Well, not on the lips at any rate. There had been one or two quick pecks on her cheek or forehead, an occasional brotherly embrace, but never had he kissed her. Yet as Zorro, he had done so boldly on many occasions. She breathed in, deeply aware of the very smell of him. Yes he was definitely Zorro. And if Diego had only kissed her once, she would have known. How could she not? Now she might never get the chance to taste those lips, alive with passion, ever again.
How was she going to get through this night! She had to be stronger than this. She had to be strong for him. For Diego. For Zorro. Yes, she had forgotten. This man before her was Diego, but he was also Zorro. And Zorro had never been defeated! This could not defeat Zorro. Zorro had been wounded before and had always recovered. He was the strongest, bravest man in all of California. Zorro could not die. She must remember that. Yes. That was what she needed to remember.
The morning came and Diego had still not opened his eyes. Victoria, Don Alejandro and Felipe all took turns sitting with him. The days wore on.
The tavern was all but closed for business. People were welcome to come in and visit the injured that still littered the room. Many brought food, and for that Victoria was grateful. She was just not willing to make the effort for much of anything except seeing to Diego. Her employees were practically running the place as a hospital. Day by day, the injuries healed and the people began to drift away back to their own homes. By the fifth day, the only visitors to the tavern were the occasional lancer checking in to make sure all was well. Sergeant Mendoza was the most frequent of the visitors, and he checked on Diego's health every chance he got. He was very concerned for his friend. He was also concerned for his stomach. The food at the commissary was just not up to the standards the Seņorita had set. If only Diego would get better... there would be tamales! And as soon as he thought it, he knew he should ask forgiveness for his selfishness. He would go see the padre. He could at least do that much.
The Alcalde, Ignacio De Soto, had kept a wary eye on the tavern and its inhabitants. He, of course, regretted that de la Vega had gotten hurt, but didn't it serve him right for his interference. What made him think he could take on a whole band of outlaws single-handedly like that. The rumors had abounded since the incident. Some said de la Vega was Zorro! Preposterous! The very idea! But then, what could one expect from the mouths of savages and peasants! He only wished de la Vega would awaken so he could show his true cowardly self again to all those doing such tongue wagging. "De la Vega!" De Soto thought. "Zorro! Indeed! Why, Mendoza could just as likely be Zorro!"
By the sixth day, Victoria and Don Alejandro were beginning to show a weariness that began to worry Felipe. The rest each of them got was very minimal indeed. For each was lost in their own thoughts of the man who lay in that bed. Felipe, alone, would actually leave and go back to the hacienda. They didn't really miss him, and he did have responsibilities. Diego would never forgive him if Tornado went hungry. So he performed his usual tasks in the cave, even if they were done with a heavy heart, and made his way back to the tavern as soon as he was finished. Of the three, he was definitely the most optimistic. He had always viewed his master and friend as more than a man. He did not doubt that Diego would awaken and be back to his old self soon. Felipe had seen much tragedy in his short life, but he refused to believe that it could touch Diego. He was worried, but he somehow knew that Diego would come through. He always had. He always would. And it was while Felipe was sitting with Diego that he finally opened
his eyes.
Felipe was up and out the door in a second to go alert everyone. Victoria came running into the room to see Diego's eyelids flickering open. She kneeled by the bed taking his hand and began muttering all kinds of assurances to him, barely even aware of what she was saying. Diego's room was suddenly filled with people and noise, and he groaned slightly as he fought back through a foggy haze to come back to the present.
"Diego, my son! How do you feel? We've have been so worried!" Don Alejandro began. "Son..."
"Oh, Diego" Victoria was on the verge of tears again, but she was trying to do her best to smile for Diego.
".... Father...?" Diego's voice was breathy and almost inaudible. His head was pounding and the light and noise of the room only made it worse. "....What... on earth....?" He forced his eyes open and looked about the room. He saw the look of concern on their faces and immediately knew he had been the cause.
"...Victoria!... Is it you?..." He was very confused. Where was he? What had happened?
"My brave boy, you have had us scared to death!" Don Alejandro turned to Felipe. "Go get Dr Hernandez, Felipe, he wanted to know the moment there was any change."
Felipe shot an intense look at Diego and smiled broadly. "Everything will be alright now" he thought and then bolted from the room.
Diego had seen the exchange between his father and the young boy. His gaze held on the space vacated by Felipe until he finally blinked hard. "Something isn't right." He thought. But turning to the girl at the side of the bed, his attention was pleasantly diverted. "Victoria.... I don't believe it. What are you doing here?" He took another slow uncertain look about the room. "Maybe I should ask what am I doing here?"
"You don't remember?" Victoria was smiling. She could hardly contain her happiness. "Well, you do have quite a bump on your head for an excuse!" She and Don Alejandro could laugh about it all now. Diego was awake! The worrying was over. He would recover and everything would be fine!
"Yes, son, you had quite a time mixing it up with some bandits a few days ago. You were hit on the head." Don Alejandro turned serious. "We have been really worried about you, Diego. It was a nasty blow, and Dr. Hernandez was not exactly encouraging about it. "But, look at you now! Well, as a matter of fact. You do look a little worse for wear. We probably all do! But you, son, could definitely use a shave!"
Diego felt his chin. His father was right. "How long have I been unconscious?" It was a safe enough question. Something was telling him to watch his words. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was definitely wrong here.
"Almost a week!" Victoria still had his hand in hers. She was looking at him in a way that made his heart leap for joy. But why? This was not right. What had happened while he had lain in this bed. "Do you think you could eat something? Maybe some soup? I know, a nice broth for starters. I'll go make some up at once. You should have something. Don Alejandro, you take care of the shaving. And be careful! I'll not have this man suffer any more injuries while in my tavern! I expect that face to come through it all unscathed!" She was almost singing her words; she was so relieved and happy.
By the time she returned with the steaming bowl of broth, Diego was sitting up in bed. His father had helped him freshen up and his eyes looked a bit more in focus, but the confused look was still present on his face. At first, he objected to the help she offered feeding him the soup, but soon he realized that he probably needed to be helped. He was awfully weak. After only a few spoonfuls, he was ready to lie back down again. The room was spinning and his head ached so.
The room seemed to be constantly filled with people with all of them talking at once. He smiled weakly, but offered little in the way of real conversation. Sergeant Mendoza came as soon as he heard the good news that Don Diego had awakened. His spirits had soared to know that his friend was better and the good sergeant did his best to bring a cheeriness to the sickroom. He offered gossipy tidbits here and there, and stayed away from all the topics that Seņorita Escalante had warned were off limits in the sickroom. She had let it be known that no one was to tell Diego that anyone had died in the attack on the town. She was not going to let him be upset, as she knew he would be at that news. Not, at least, until he was better.
The next person to make an appearance in the room was the Alcalde himself. De Soto pranced into the room as if he were doing everyone a favor by gracing them with his presence. Diego's face showed complete surprise as he greeted his university acquaintance. "Ignacio! I don't believe it. What are you doing here."
"Well, I came to pay my respects. Once I heard you had finally come round."
Don Alejandro broke in and asked "Alcalde, have your men tracked down the bandits that got away? Or will we have to leave that to Zorro?"
De Soto turned to Don Alejandro. "My men are on their trails as we speak. It's just a matter of time before we bring those ruffians in for justice. And I hope, Diego, you now will be a little more careful in the future, and leave the police business of this pueblo to my men! You see where it got you! We can't have our leading citizens be hurt in such a careless manner." He gave Don Alejandro a half-salute and abruptly left.
"Well, of all the...." Don Alejandro began. " I suppose we cannot expect much more of the man. At least, he did come to see you." Don Alejandro saw the look on Diego's face. "Oh, son, don't let it trouble you. The man's an idiot. We all know that!"
The doctor came and went. Diego managed a few more mouthfuls of the very fragrant broth and even a little wine. The doctor thought it might do him some good. He had seemed a trifle agitated since awakening. But it was probably understandable. It had to be unnerving to lose nearly a week of one's life. Dr. Hernandez did insist that Diego remain in bed right where he was for another day just to be safe. After that, he could begin to get back on his feet again gradually. He was probably going to suffer from a good deal of lightheadedness, some dizziness, and the headaches that went with such a head trauma. It was all very normal, so no one was to worry. In about a week, he expected Diego to be up and about his usual business.
That night, Victoria brought Diego another bowl of broth and a glass of wine, just like the doctor ordered. As she was fussing about, plumping up the pillows, straightening the covers, even daring to push a lock of Diego's hair out of his eyes, Diego steeled himself to ask his question.
"Victoria, I think I can trust you, can't I?"
Victoria was surprised. "Of course, you can, Diego. What is it? I can see something's been troubling you." She thought to herself. He knows that I know. Here it comes. But his question was nothing like the one she expected.
"Victoria, what is today's date?" He was looking as serious as she had ever seen him.
"Why it is the 12th of November."
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The headache was growing much worse. "Victoria, I don't want to frighten you but I have to know." He looked her squarely in the eyes.
"Diego...."
"Victoria, what year is it?"
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Diego, Alejandro and Victoria were catching up on news in front of the tavern when it happened.
What had been a peaceful, sleepy afternoon suddenly erupted into a frenzied chaos! Bandidos entered the plaza seemingly from all sides at once. There were at least 15 men firing into the crowd at random. The sounds of the horses, the shots, the yells from the men, and the screams from the women all combined into a thunderous roar. Two of the peons in the crowd fell to the ground clutching their chests.
Diego was stunned. There was nothing he could do but act, no time to worry about anything else. People were dying!
A small child ran wild and was about to be crushed by the horses' hooves when Diego sprang into action. He whisked the child up in his arms and practically threw the young boy into the arms of his father. Then he bounded for the nearest bandido and wrestled the man from the horse onto the ground. With one masterful punch placed squarely in his face, the man sank to the ground in a lump. Diego whirled around quickly and grabbed the whip anchored to the horse's saddle.
Victoria and Alejandro saw only a blur before them as they watched Diego use the whip like a master to bring down two more bandidos from their horses and dispose of them as he had the first. He showed blinding speed as he used the whip in rapid succession and forced two more bandidos from their mounts. The crowd watched in awe as they saw young Diego de la Vega dive fearlessly under a horse, spin around and grab the reigns causing it to rear skywards and unseat its rider. The whip in his hand lashed out once more to snatch a knife from another bandido's hand and whisk it into his own. Then he turned and slashed at the saddle cinches of the two nearest horses. The men tumbled from the horses' backs and were knocked out with one swift blow each. He had taken care of half the bandidos, but in so doing, he had drawn the attention of the rest of them.
"Get him!" One of them shouted above the noise. The remaining outlaws eyed their amigos littering the ground and hesitated momentarily before regrouping to attack.
It was just long enough for Diego to crack the whip just in front of the nose of one of the horses. The steed panicked, reared and threw its rider off its back and into the dirt in one swift move.
"Diego, watch out!" Victoria shouted as she saw one of the men come up behind Diego. He turned quickly, dodging the thrust of a musket. But behind him, the frightened rider-less horse reared high once more and a hoof came crashing down on the back of Diego's head.
Diego fell to the ground and his world stilled.
The bandidos fired two more shots into the crowd. But at last, the soldiers from the quartel began arriving and firing back. The trained men showered a volley of gunfire at the remaining bandidos and four of the bandidos fell to the ground. Lancers were pouring into the plaza now with muskets and rifles. The bandidos were finally outnumbered and the rest galloped off toward the gates of the pueblo in a hail of musket fire. A cheer went up from the crowd for the soldiers. For several minutes there was rejoicing as the people watched their military men do their jobs. Some soldiers rounded up the fallen bandidos and others mounted up and pursued the bandidos out through the gates. But the cheer died down as one by one they turned and saw the carnage left behind and one lone man lying in the street unmoving and still. A rich man's son who had fought so bravely for all of them!
Victoria was the first to reach Diego. She screamed to the nearest lancer for help in getting him into the tavern. Alejandro quickly found the child's grateful mother, deposited the child into her arms, and rushed over to his son's side. Victoria was already taking control of the situation. She motioned Alejandro to grab Diego's feet while she carefully cushioned his head as the men carried Diego inside.
"I had no idea he was so heavy." The lancer groaned under Diego's weight and called to another lancer to come over to help. Victoria directed the men up the stairs to the room next to hers. The lancer groaned once more as he saw the stairs, but he knew better than to object. The seņorita did not seem to be in a mood to argue.
Seņorita Victoria Escalante was a "modern woman". She was still very young, only in her early twenties, but she had matured rapidly into a very confident and strong willed young lady. She had taken over the running of her parents' tavern when barely out of childhood. The blood of her brave parents, staunch fighters for freedom and justice flowed red in her veins. The sight of her mother's tragic death before a firing squad of a corrupt and unjust government had only given her more strength of character. She could always be counted on to take control of just such a situation. She was in her element when it came to a crisis. She was already shouting orders.
"Maria, get my medical kit, make some bandages of the old sheets in the right hand cupboard and start boiling some water for the doctor!" She knew the doctor would not be able to tend to all the injured without some help. "Tina, go find Dr. Hernandez. He may be out there in the street already. If he is, ask him what he needs and get it for him. Tell him to bring the injured in here if he needs to and ...just tell him ...well, whatever he needs...." Her thoughts had already returned to the man being lain on a bed upstairs. Tears had already made tracks down her cheeks and she was beginning to forget the scene outside. She had to make sure Diego was all right!
When she finally managed to get to his bedside, she was crying outright. She now knew. But, at what a price! She had almost expected to see him lying there with the mask on his face. She looked at Don Alejandro who was trying to stop the bleeding of his son's wound. Had he guessed? And what about the townspeople? But did it even matter? He was lying there so still, so pale. She knew from the sound that blow had made that he was seriously hurt. She took the bandages from Don Alejandro and began to dress the wound gently.
"Victoria, I'm going to go see if the doctor can take a quick look at him. Or at least tell us what to do for him. I'll be back." Don Alejandro took a last look at his son. " I just can't believe..." He shook his head and abruptly left the room.
The dust was still thick in the plaza. The scene that lay before Alejandro reminded him of a battle scene more that a village square. Don Alejandro de la Vega had been on the field of battle as a young man in Spain fighting for his king. There you expected such a scene as this, but here! He waded through the dazed peasants and finally found Dr. Hernandez tending to a young woman with a musket wound in her side. He was having a hard time controlling the bleeding.
"Alejandro, good. Help me. Hold this there." Dr. Hernandez was methodically doing his job as if this background of dust and noise was normal. " The peons are talking about Diego. They say he was hurt. He wasn't shot, was he?"
"No, not shot, but Dr. Hernandez, he suffered a bad blow to the head. I....I know you have your duties here..... but could you tell us what to do for him. He is unconscious. It looks bad...." Alejandro was doing his best to stay calm, but the panic inside him was rising.
"Unconscious? Well, nothing to do but keep him warm and watch him. It's one of the hardest things to treat. But he is young and strong. He should come round. I'll come and have a look at him as soon as I've finished up out here. I fear the good Padre will have even more work than I from this day." He shook his head as he looked around him at the devastation. "Why on earth would anyone ...."
"Yes... I cannot understand this...I haven't seen anything like this since..." Don Alejandro's voice trailed away as he walked back towards the tavern. Many faces turned his way and there were a good many whispers behind cupped hands being passed from one peon to another. Don Diego de la Vega's name was being used with reverence, albeit in whispers. The young Don had surprised everyone that day. This peace-loving caballero who always made a great show of incompetence and uselessness had turned into a hero right before their very eyes. Now his father, Don Alejandro, walked slowly back to the tavern, and the people stood aside silently to let him pass.
********
Diego had not moved.
When the doctor finally made it up to the tiny room where Diego lay, he declared the young man had suffered a major concussion. He tried to gently explain to Don Alejandro that it looked as if this injury were much more serious than he had thought at first. He had examined Diego's pupils and did not like what he had seen. He was afraid to elaborate on his diagnosis, for Don Alejandro did not look like he could take much more. He cautioned Victoria to keep Diego warm and the room quiet and watch for fever. She seemed to be handling the situation far better than Don Alejandro, so he hoped he could rely on her to see that Diego got the care he would be needing. She did seem to be very attentive to him. If only the young man would stir. He hadn't even warned them yet about his true concern. That Diego might awaken but not truly be the Diego they knew. He had seen this kind of head trauma before and knew what it could do to even the young and healthy.
"Well, that's about all I can do for now. I'll return in the morning. Send Felipe for me if there's any change. I will come. And you both should get some rest. You won't do him any good by just sitting here worrying. He may need you more than ever once he does wake up." Dr. Hernandez patted Victoria's hand and nodded to Don Alejandro and left.
"Victoria, I'll stay with him-"
"No, Don Alejandro, you will not. There is a bed two doors down. You will spend the night there and I will stay with Diego tonight. You can relieve me in the morning. But I will not leave him tonight. So don't even ask me to. Now go. You heard what the doctor said. You need your rest. It has been a long day." She took her seat by the bed and turned her back on Don Alejandro.
Alejandro though to himself. "I've never noticed how much she reminds me of Elena!" He took one more look at his son and left the room. "And if she is going to act like my dear departed wife, I may as well resolve myself to doing as she commands!"
Victoria knew she would not be able to sleep this night anyway. All her thoughts would have been of Diego. Diego.... Zorro.... One and the same. All this time and she had not made the connection. How could he have fooled her? She should have recognized his voice, his eyes. Had she been too close to Diego, too familiar with him, to notice? He had even tried to give her clues. She realized that now. The poetry. Telling her she should marry someone "like Diego"! How she must have hurt him. The things she had said. They came back to her now with a clarity that made her cringe. She wouldn't blame him if he never forgave her. Was she even worthy of the love of this man? Now she knew that he desperately wanted her to love him as himself, as Diego. And all she could see was the hero! That was precisely what he had said was his greatest fear that day in the cave. The day Zorro had given her his mother's ring. Dona Elena de la Vega's ring! He was afraid she loved a hero and not the man. And the man, Diego, had been r
ight by her side, day in and day out. Dear, sweet, kind Diego.
The two of them had grown up knowing each other. He had teased her, protected her, angered her, but he had never once failed her in anything. That's why the change that had come over him when he had returned from his four-year stay at the University in Madrid had been so hard to accept. He had come back, not as the matured young man she had expected, but as an overly studious scholar interested only in art, music and science. He had been totally unconcerned about the atrocities being committed in the pueblo de Los Angeles. It was as if he just didn't care. And it had all been just an act.
She had known that Diego had been in love with her for a long time. And because she had held her love for another, she had all but ignored him. It had been purposely done. There were many times that she had felt a powerful physical and emotional attraction to him, but she knew she couldn't give into it. After all she had promised to wait for Zorro. So she had acted the friend, the sister. She had done the same kind of thing with others that she had no intention of letting get close to her. It was something a woman learned to do. Had her own actions kept her from seeing the truth? But he had acted his part well, too. He had hardly ever so much as kissed her hand. Why he scarcely ever looked her straight in the eye! It had always been very endearing that he seemed so shy around her, but now she realized it had been more than that. He was protecting his identity. One soulful look and, well, she might have guessed. After all, his eyes had never been masked.
His eyes. Why wouldn't he open them now! She slipped out of the chair and began praying with all her heart. "Please let him wake up and come back to me." She prayed it silently over and over. Surely, God would forgive the simplicity of it. She stroked his hand and caressed it gently. If he would only wake up and come back to her.... She had so much to say to him. She began sobbing again. The only sound in the room was the sound of Diego's watch ticking. Someone had laid it on the bedside table and the wood was magnifying the sound. It seemed to fill the room. She couldn't even hear his breathing!
For a moment she panicked. Then she leaned forward to touch his chest and found that it was rising and falling. He was breathing. She put her hands to her own breast to quiet her own breathing then bent down and kissed him. It was strange. Diego had never kissed her in all the time he'd known her. Well, not on the lips at any rate. There had been one or two quick pecks on her cheek or forehead, an occasional brotherly embrace, but never had he kissed her. Yet as Zorro, he had done so boldly on many occasions. She breathed in, deeply aware of the very smell of him. Yes he was definitely Zorro. And if Diego had only kissed her once, she would have known. How could she not? Now she might never get the chance to taste those lips, alive with passion, ever again.
How was she going to get through this night! She had to be stronger than this. She had to be strong for him. For Diego. For Zorro. Yes, she had forgotten. This man before her was Diego, but he was also Zorro. And Zorro had never been defeated! This could not defeat Zorro. Zorro had been wounded before and had always recovered. He was the strongest, bravest man in all of California. Zorro could not die. She must remember that. Yes. That was what she needed to remember.
The morning came and Diego had still not opened his eyes. Victoria, Don Alejandro and Felipe all took turns sitting with him. The days wore on.
The tavern was all but closed for business. People were welcome to come in and visit the injured that still littered the room. Many brought food, and for that Victoria was grateful. She was just not willing to make the effort for much of anything except seeing to Diego. Her employees were practically running the place as a hospital. Day by day, the injuries healed and the people began to drift away back to their own homes. By the fifth day, the only visitors to the tavern were the occasional lancer checking in to make sure all was well. Sergeant Mendoza was the most frequent of the visitors, and he checked on Diego's health every chance he got. He was very concerned for his friend. He was also concerned for his stomach. The food at the commissary was just not up to the standards the Seņorita had set. If only Diego would get better... there would be tamales! And as soon as he thought it, he knew he should ask forgiveness for his selfishness. He would go see the padre. He could at least do that much.
The Alcalde, Ignacio De Soto, had kept a wary eye on the tavern and its inhabitants. He, of course, regretted that de la Vega had gotten hurt, but didn't it serve him right for his interference. What made him think he could take on a whole band of outlaws single-handedly like that. The rumors had abounded since the incident. Some said de la Vega was Zorro! Preposterous! The very idea! But then, what could one expect from the mouths of savages and peasants! He only wished de la Vega would awaken so he could show his true cowardly self again to all those doing such tongue wagging. "De la Vega!" De Soto thought. "Zorro! Indeed! Why, Mendoza could just as likely be Zorro!"
By the sixth day, Victoria and Don Alejandro were beginning to show a weariness that began to worry Felipe. The rest each of them got was very minimal indeed. For each was lost in their own thoughts of the man who lay in that bed. Felipe, alone, would actually leave and go back to the hacienda. They didn't really miss him, and he did have responsibilities. Diego would never forgive him if Tornado went hungry. So he performed his usual tasks in the cave, even if they were done with a heavy heart, and made his way back to the tavern as soon as he was finished. Of the three, he was definitely the most optimistic. He had always viewed his master and friend as more than a man. He did not doubt that Diego would awaken and be back to his old self soon. Felipe had seen much tragedy in his short life, but he refused to believe that it could touch Diego. He was worried, but he somehow knew that Diego would come through. He always had. He always would. And it was while Felipe was sitting with Diego that he finally opened
his eyes.
Felipe was up and out the door in a second to go alert everyone. Victoria came running into the room to see Diego's eyelids flickering open. She kneeled by the bed taking his hand and began muttering all kinds of assurances to him, barely even aware of what she was saying. Diego's room was suddenly filled with people and noise, and he groaned slightly as he fought back through a foggy haze to come back to the present.
"Diego, my son! How do you feel? We've have been so worried!" Don Alejandro began. "Son..."
"Oh, Diego" Victoria was on the verge of tears again, but she was trying to do her best to smile for Diego.
".... Father...?" Diego's voice was breathy and almost inaudible. His head was pounding and the light and noise of the room only made it worse. "....What... on earth....?" He forced his eyes open and looked about the room. He saw the look of concern on their faces and immediately knew he had been the cause.
"...Victoria!... Is it you?..." He was very confused. Where was he? What had happened?
"My brave boy, you have had us scared to death!" Don Alejandro turned to Felipe. "Go get Dr Hernandez, Felipe, he wanted to know the moment there was any change."
Felipe shot an intense look at Diego and smiled broadly. "Everything will be alright now" he thought and then bolted from the room.
Diego had seen the exchange between his father and the young boy. His gaze held on the space vacated by Felipe until he finally blinked hard. "Something isn't right." He thought. But turning to the girl at the side of the bed, his attention was pleasantly diverted. "Victoria.... I don't believe it. What are you doing here?" He took another slow uncertain look about the room. "Maybe I should ask what am I doing here?"
"You don't remember?" Victoria was smiling. She could hardly contain her happiness. "Well, you do have quite a bump on your head for an excuse!" She and Don Alejandro could laugh about it all now. Diego was awake! The worrying was over. He would recover and everything would be fine!
"Yes, son, you had quite a time mixing it up with some bandits a few days ago. You were hit on the head." Don Alejandro turned serious. "We have been really worried about you, Diego. It was a nasty blow, and Dr. Hernandez was not exactly encouraging about it. "But, look at you now! Well, as a matter of fact. You do look a little worse for wear. We probably all do! But you, son, could definitely use a shave!"
Diego felt his chin. His father was right. "How long have I been unconscious?" It was a safe enough question. Something was telling him to watch his words. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was definitely wrong here.
"Almost a week!" Victoria still had his hand in hers. She was looking at him in a way that made his heart leap for joy. But why? This was not right. What had happened while he had lain in this bed. "Do you think you could eat something? Maybe some soup? I know, a nice broth for starters. I'll go make some up at once. You should have something. Don Alejandro, you take care of the shaving. And be careful! I'll not have this man suffer any more injuries while in my tavern! I expect that face to come through it all unscathed!" She was almost singing her words; she was so relieved and happy.
By the time she returned with the steaming bowl of broth, Diego was sitting up in bed. His father had helped him freshen up and his eyes looked a bit more in focus, but the confused look was still present on his face. At first, he objected to the help she offered feeding him the soup, but soon he realized that he probably needed to be helped. He was awfully weak. After only a few spoonfuls, he was ready to lie back down again. The room was spinning and his head ached so.
The room seemed to be constantly filled with people with all of them talking at once. He smiled weakly, but offered little in the way of real conversation. Sergeant Mendoza came as soon as he heard the good news that Don Diego had awakened. His spirits had soared to know that his friend was better and the good sergeant did his best to bring a cheeriness to the sickroom. He offered gossipy tidbits here and there, and stayed away from all the topics that Seņorita Escalante had warned were off limits in the sickroom. She had let it be known that no one was to tell Diego that anyone had died in the attack on the town. She was not going to let him be upset, as she knew he would be at that news. Not, at least, until he was better.
The next person to make an appearance in the room was the Alcalde himself. De Soto pranced into the room as if he were doing everyone a favor by gracing them with his presence. Diego's face showed complete surprise as he greeted his university acquaintance. "Ignacio! I don't believe it. What are you doing here."
"Well, I came to pay my respects. Once I heard you had finally come round."
Don Alejandro broke in and asked "Alcalde, have your men tracked down the bandits that got away? Or will we have to leave that to Zorro?"
De Soto turned to Don Alejandro. "My men are on their trails as we speak. It's just a matter of time before we bring those ruffians in for justice. And I hope, Diego, you now will be a little more careful in the future, and leave the police business of this pueblo to my men! You see where it got you! We can't have our leading citizens be hurt in such a careless manner." He gave Don Alejandro a half-salute and abruptly left.
"Well, of all the...." Don Alejandro began. " I suppose we cannot expect much more of the man. At least, he did come to see you." Don Alejandro saw the look on Diego's face. "Oh, son, don't let it trouble you. The man's an idiot. We all know that!"
The doctor came and went. Diego managed a few more mouthfuls of the very fragrant broth and even a little wine. The doctor thought it might do him some good. He had seemed a trifle agitated since awakening. But it was probably understandable. It had to be unnerving to lose nearly a week of one's life. Dr. Hernandez did insist that Diego remain in bed right where he was for another day just to be safe. After that, he could begin to get back on his feet again gradually. He was probably going to suffer from a good deal of lightheadedness, some dizziness, and the headaches that went with such a head trauma. It was all very normal, so no one was to worry. In about a week, he expected Diego to be up and about his usual business.
That night, Victoria brought Diego another bowl of broth and a glass of wine, just like the doctor ordered. As she was fussing about, plumping up the pillows, straightening the covers, even daring to push a lock of Diego's hair out of his eyes, Diego steeled himself to ask his question.
"Victoria, I think I can trust you, can't I?"
Victoria was surprised. "Of course, you can, Diego. What is it? I can see something's been troubling you." She thought to herself. He knows that I know. Here it comes. But his question was nothing like the one she expected.
"Victoria, what is today's date?" He was looking as serious as she had ever seen him.
"Why it is the 12th of November."
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The headache was growing much worse. "Victoria, I don't want to frighten you but I have to know." He looked her squarely in the eyes.
"Diego...."
"Victoria, what year is it?"