Part 14
by Karla Gregory
Sergeant Garcia surveyed a couple of the cracks that had formed in the
cuartel walls. He was no engineer, but he thought that the cracks were not
too severe. He shivered again as he remembered the ground moving under
his feet and the bell from the church ringing all by itself. He did not ever
want to go through that again, but he knew from experience that the ground
would shake itself again some day. He just hoped it would not be any worse
than today's quake had been. He and his lancers had just returned from t
heir fruitless search for Don Diego's bandidos when it happened. Rarely
had he seen Don Diego so upset over anything and they had searched
diligently, but had found no trace of the bandidos. This afternoon he would
take another patrol out on fresh horses and search again. He did not want
to have to face Don Diego with nothing to show for his efforts.
Senor Basilio had faced mother nature's wrath during the quake with more
courage than he faced Viceroy de Silva now. After the young de la Vega
had left, de Silva had gone back to his room at the Inn followed by his
secretary Alcocer. He had taken the jewelry with him. He was
very possessive of the pieces, not even letting Basilio get a good look
at them. But what Basilio had seen had whetted his appetite for more.
Shortly after dark, he was summoned to the Viceroy's room at the Inn
by Vicente. When he had tried to question the servant about the
reason for the summons, he would only say, "Were I you, Emissary,
I would not ask questions and I would watch carefully what I say in the
presence of His Excellency. His disposition is . . ..unsettled." He would
say nothing more. As they walked over to the Inn, Basilio wondered what
"unsettled" meant. He decided it bode ill for him. He had not seen Mondego
since before de Silva arrived in Los Angeles. He had nothing to report on
the whereabouts of the treasure. The fact that he had hired de Silva's
ephew to recover the treasure and it turned out that there was literally
bad blood between them left him in a dire position. He was perspiring
heavily when he presented himself at de Silva's door.
Alcocer let them in. Basilio only stepped one pace into the room before
he stopped. De Silva was seated in a chair turned towards the window.
Basilio could only see de Silva's face in profile. He was holding up the
ecklace and letting the candlelight from the table lamp play upon its
surfaces. "Your Excellency", said Basilio addressing the older man as
he bowed.
De Silva did not turn, but said, "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful,
Felipe? Look how it sparkles in the light." He turned it so that the candlelight
could play upon its surfaces.
Basilio was unprepared for de Silva's seeming calmness. He cleared his
throat and said, "No, Your Excellency, I have never seen anything so
beautiful."
De Silva continued to look at the necklace. "The rest of my treasure was
more splendid even than this, Felipe." He paused, then said, "Where is my
treasure, Felipe?" Slowly de Silva turned his head until he was looking
Basilio in the eyes. Basilio's mouth dried instantly and his heart was all
but stopped. Those black eyes held no warmth, only the coldness of want.
Viceroy de Silva wanted his treasure.
"Y-y-y-your Excellency, I-I-I don't . . .," his voice trailed off and he held his
hands out in supplication.
"You don't know where it is. I am disappointed in you, Felipe. Very
disappointed. Young de la Vega finds part of my treasure lying on the
road like so much rubbish and you do not know what has become of it."
\Basilio found himself becoming more alarmed by the calm demeanor of the
Viceroy. "You were a man I thought I could trust, Felipe. But now I find you
in league with my despised nephew and my treasure is missing. Where
have you hidden it, Felipe? Do not make me wait for the answer." De Silva
motioned to Alfredo who took a step or two in Basilio's direction. "Alfredo
here has many skills. Do not make me have to use them on you, my dear
Felipe. Just answer the question: where have you hidden my treasure?"
Basilio backed up against the door. "Y-y-y-your Excellency, I swear I do not
know where the reasure is! I have not seen Mondego . . ."
The debilities of his arthritis forgotten, de Silva rose from his chair in anger,
throwing the necklace on the bed. "You will not speak that name again in
my presence! Do you hear me? Never! I hate that name above all others!"
He looked up at the ceiling with raised fist as he said, "Oh, the humiliation of
having that blood mingled with proud blood of the de Silva's!" He looked back
a t Basilio. "My enemy died at my hands before this accursed child was born,
but it did not wash away the humiliation I endured at his birth. I could not kill
the boy, but I sent him away from me. As a man, he returned to me and the
blood of my enemy cried out to me through him. I tried to erase it from my
mind by banishing this child of my enemy, this child of my niece's betrayal,
to the life of a vagabond and a beggar; to roam the ends of the earth. And now
you bring him back before me!" Spittle was gathering at the corners of
de Silva's mouth from the intensity of his fury.
Basilio closed his eyes, prepared to die.
"And I love you too, Uncle," said a voice from the window. Everyone in the
room turned to see who was speaking. Mondego entered the room and in
one fluid motion threw the knife that ended the life of Alfredo before he
could move to protect his master. He fell heavily onto the floor without
making a sound. Vicente leaped to stand before de Silva only to be felled
by a thrust from Mondego's sword. He was not killed, but he was severely
wounded. The point of the sword was now pressed against de Silva's throat.
The older man drew himself up as proudly as he could, his eyes showing no
fear. Basilio felt behind him for the door knob planning to make his escape.
"No, Senor Basilio, you will not be leaving just yet. You will stand away from
the door." Basilio weighed his chances. There was now another knife in
Mondego's free hand. He suspected that the white haired man was able to
throw well with either hand. He moved away from the door. "Excellent,"
said Mondego. Speaking over his shoulder, but not taking his eyes off of
them he said, "Carlos, come in and tie up these two."
A scruffy looking man came in the window then and proceeded to tie up
\both de Silva and Basilio. "What are you g-g-g-going to do with us?"
asked Basilio, cursing his stammering under his breath, but he could
not help himself. De Silva said nothing, but looked steadily at Mondego.
"We are going for a ride in a carriage to a place you know of, Senor Basilio.
We spoke of it the first night I came to this fair city. Diego de la Vega was
supposed to have been its inhabitant, but the two of you will join Alejandro
de la Vega there."
"Alejandro?" spoke de Silva for the first time.
"Yes, the son of your old friend, Uncle. The man who should have been
my father, yes? He will be waiting for you. Come, we will go now. Carlos,
you and the other men will take these two out of the window as we planned.
Be gentle with the old man. I will send a message by the Innkeeper to the
soldiers saying that Senor Basilio is with the Viceroy and they are not to be
disturbed for any reason. This will give us plenty of time to get away."
**************************************
Don Alejandro leaned back against the chair, exhausted. He had been trying
for hours to break his bonds and free himself. He finally had to admit defeat.
The ropes were too new and he had nothing to work with. Once again he felt
the humiliation wash over him as he thought about how he had been captured
and brought to this place. Diego had told him about the kidnaping attempt by
Mondego. How that Mondego had planned to use Diego as hostage against
Zorro in order to get the treasure from him. How that Bernardo had been held
instead and Diego had been sent to get Zorro. The complete ruthlessness of
the man was more than he could comprehend and he had shuddered to think
that the blue-eyed man would have killed Bernardo just to use his blood as ink
for the ransom note. Their narrow escape made him thankful to God for
earthquakes.
It was while inspecting the hacienda and its out buildings for quake damage
that he had been taken. Diego and Bernardo had ridden with a few vaqueros
to check on the homes of the peons who lived on the de la Vega rancho; to
see if they needed any help. Don Alejandro and his men were checking the
hacienda. He had felt safe on his own land, among his own men. Sending
the man he was with onto the roof to check for damage, Alejandro was
looking at the foundation when he found a sack thrown over his head and
his arms pinned to his side. Before he could cry out, he was knocked
unconscious. When he awoke, he had found himself alone in this room, in
a house he did not know. He could not see out of the windows. The few
pieces of furniture were simple, but not crude. And strong. He knew right
away that he could not just turn the chair over and hope that it would smash
to pieces. Only his frustration had caused him to strain against his bonds
for so long. Now he could only wait and see what would happen. He knew
that if Diego made a visit to all of the peons it would be well after dark before
he came home and found his father missing. His only hope was that the
vaqueros that he had been with could find his son sooner and tell him the
news. If they did, he expected Zorro to come looking for him. That thought
brought him a measure of comfort. With nothing else to do, he finally dozed
off.
He was awakened in the dark by the sound of horses and a carriage pulling
up to the house. Blinking to clear his eyes, he watched as the door was
flung open and men began coming into the room. His eyes widened as he
saw who it was. "Senor Basilio! Your Excellency!" he cried as he
addressed the men. He lost his voice as the candles were lit and he
saw that they were tied
up.
The white-haired Mondego swept into the room after everyone
was in and surveyed everything with satisfaction. His restless
blue eyes took in everything. Finally, something was going as
planned. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. "Curses on that
Zorro and young de la Vega," he thought. "But this will bring both
of them running. And when all is done, I will be the only one to
walk away from this place. With the treasure," he added. He
smiled. He directed his men to tie the Viceroy and the Emissary
to the only other chairs in the room. He sat, draping one leg across
the end of the table that was in the center of the room. "What a nice
reunion we are all having," he said.
"What do you want with us!" demanded Don Alejandro. "Why are
we here?"
"You pretend not to know? Surely you have spoken to your son,
Diego today. You know what it is that I want, just as your son knows.
Just as Zorro knows."
"Zorro?" spoke Basilio for the first time.
"What does Zorro have to do with this?" said de Silva at the same time.
"That is right. You two do not know. Uncle, Zorro is in possession of
the treasure that you hold so dear. Senor Basilio here does not have
the slightest idea what has happened to it."
"Zorro," said Basilio nodding his head. He might have known that the
black devil would be involved somehow.
"Yes, he has it. But I will soon gain the possession of it. A message
has been sent to the young de la Vega, that if Zorro does not bring the t
reasure here, to me, before midnight, that he will find his father's body
on the road leading to the de la Vega hacienda by the morning's light. Do
not look so calm, Senor Basilio. Your lives also rest in the hands of
young de la Vega. Don Alejandro's body will not lie alone upon the
road should the son fail."
***************************************
The vaquero's had indeed found Diego before sundown with the news
that his father was missing. Leaving the men behind to finish checking
on the remaining peons, Diego and Bernardo rode at breakneck speed
back to the hacienda. Searching the area where his father had last been
seen yielded no clues. The ground had been swept of tracks and no traces
could be found. Through clinched teeth, Diego said as he and Bernardo
stood looking at the hacienda in the distance, "I know what will happen.
I will be receiving a message from Senor Mondego claiming that he has
my father and that if Zorro does not bring the treasure, then he will kill him.
It is what he was going to try with you and me this morning. Come, we will
find nothing here. The sun is going down anyway. We will go and prepare.
Get a wagon and drive to the entrance of the cave. We will load the treasure
on it." At Bernardo's questioning look Diego said, "The treasure means
nothing to me. I will gladly part with it to gain the release of my father."
Bernardo nodded in agreement. They walked back toward the hacienda.
It was almost nine o'clock before the message came. It came crashing
through the window of the sala tied to a rock. The sound of hoof beats
could be heard fading into the night as the messenger rode away. Bernardo
leaped to get the rock and handed the piece of paper to Diego with a
questioning look. "Yes, Bernardo this is the ransom note," he said as he
examined it in the candlelight. "They hold my father in the old Hernandez
rancho about ten miles from here. It has been abandoned for many years.
Both Zorro and I are to bring the treasure to the rancho. No one else is to
come." Bernardo's look asked Diego how he proposed to be two people at
once. "I will be Zorro and you will be Diego," he said. Bernardo looked
surprised. "You will dress in some of my clothing and drive the wagon
with my horse tied on the back of it. In the dark, if someone is watching,
they will not know the difference. You will stop and get off of the wagon
before we get there and ride off on my horse. They will just think that the
son of Don Alejandro is a coward and will not follow. You will circle back
when you are out of their sight. I will continue on to the rancho. Come, we
have little time. We must be there by midnight."
Bernardo felt a little strange wearing his master's clothing. Everything was
too long or too wide except for the waist. He had some difficulty holding in
his stomach enough to do up the fastenings. Feeling eyes upon him, he
turned to find Zorro laughing softly at him. "I told you that you were getting
a little plump," he said as he came over to help. Bernardo gave him a look.
They had to roll up the pant legs and the jacket sleeves, pinning them in place.
Standing up from pinning the pant legs, Zorro said, "There. That will do. Let us
be going." Bernardo put his hand on Zorro's arm to make him wait and held
up one finger. He walked over to the dresser and took out some of the black
polish that he used to shine Diego's shoes. Dipping his little finger into the
black cream, he looked into mirror and drew a thin mustache on his upper lip.
Turning to Zorro, he grinned. Laughing and slapping Bernardo on the back,
Zorro said, "All right! All right! You don't have to bury yourself in the part!
Besides that, it is crooked!" Alarmed, Bernardo tried to look in the mirror again
only to be grabbed by the shoulder and pulled toward the secret entrance to the
tunnel. "We don't have time for that, my friend," said Zorro fondly. He knew
that Bernardo was trying to lighten the mood and appreciated that. This night
had danger enough and it helped to have a bit of the tension released.
Quickly they made their way into the tunnel. Zorro mounted Tornado and
followed Bernardo out into the canyon. It would be difficult to make good time
with the wagon, but if nothing happened, they should make it to the Hernandez
rancho in plenty of time. When they were almost there, Zorro became aware
that they were being followed due to Tornado's nervousness. Calming the
stallion, he signaled to Bernardo that they had watchers. Bernardo nodded.
When they could just make out the house in the distance, Bernardo stopped
the wagon. Waving his arms and gesturing to Zorro he made out like they
were having an argument. Getting on Diego's horse he rode off at a gallop
with Zorro crying out, "Diego!" after him. Zorro shook his head and took the
near horse's bridle and led the wagon on up to the house. Stopping a dozen
yards or so from the house, he stepped down from Tornado. From the brush
he heard a thump and the noise of something falling. Then he saw Bernardo
smiling at him and waving that the watcher had been taken care of. Saluting
his faithful servant, he signaled him to go to the back of the rancho as they
had agreed to take out any other bandido who might be standing guard. He
looked in the window through a crack in the shutter. He saw his father,
de Silva and Basilio tied to some chairs and Mondego and another man
talking near the fireplace. Breathing a sigh of relief that his father was still
alive and unharmed, he looked through another window and saw one more
of Mondego's men standing in front of the door. Walking over to the door,
drawing his pistol and his sword, he kicked in the door and stepped back
and to the side. The man standing by the door rushed out despite Mondego's
warning cry and Zorro knocked him out with the hilt of his sword. Leaping
into the room, he dodged a bullet fired from the pistol of the other bandido
and fired back. The man fell.
Now there was only Zorro and Mondego to face each other. Mondego was
standing between de Silva's chair and Don Alejandro's. He had his sword
drawn and was holding it across the throat of Don Alejandro. "Throw down
your weapon, Senor Zorro, or this one dies!" he hissed.
Zorro hesitated. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to de Silva's. The old
man's eyes were delivering a message. "Wait," they said. With a barely
perceptible nod, Zorro turned his attention back to Mondego. "I have
brought what you wanted. It is in the wagon outside. Let these people go
and take the treasure."
"What I want?" cried Mondego. "What I want is right here in this room.
Everyone who has made my life miserable is in this room. No wait!
Where is Diego de la Vega? He was supposed to come!"
"Diego brought the wagon to the rancho, but he went home again. Besides,"
Zorro said shrugging, "he would only have been in the way,"
"You mean to say that he ran away, do you not?" Mondego looked
down at Don Alejandro. "What kind of son is that, Don Alejandro? You
had a son like that when you could have had me! I am afraid of no one.
You should have married my mother. She had courage."
Before Don Alejandro could speak to defend his son and the woman he
had married, de Silva spoke through clinched teeth. "Your mother betrayed
me. She was a traitor to the de Silva blood. Both of you would have been
better off had she died in childbirth taking you with her!" Don Alejandro,
Zorro, and even Basilio were taken aback by this vehemence.
Mondego just smiled not even turning to look at his great uncle. "The blood
of the de Silva's. Do you want to know why my father was an enemy to the
noble blood of the de Silva's?" he said speaking to the others in the room.
"He beat my dear Uncle at his own game. At every turn, my father gained
the ear of the king, and the power and influence of this younger man grew
while Uncle's stagnated. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you,
eh, Uncle? All you could manage was gaining the governorship of the dregs
of the empire: California. But while you were away, your niece was growing
up and my father found her to his liking. The betrothal to Don Alejandro came
too late. My father had already stolen her heart. The last thing over which
you thought you had control was gone."
Zorro's eyes met his father's. How much of this story did his father know
he wondered. When this was over they would have to have a long talk.
When he looked over to de Silva, he thought that the older man was going
to explode. His eyes were red rimmed and his face was bloodless. He
looked like he was in pain. When their eyes met, Zorro sensed that the
time was now. He readied himself for anything. Suddenly, de Silva threw
himself violently to one side, tumbling over his chair and falling into the back
of Mondego's legs knocking him down. Swiftly, Zorro charged across the
room to place himself between Mondego and his father. Mondego got up
slowly and backed away. Both men knew that the fight they must fight
would be to the death.
Zorro had never fought a left handed swordsman before. The brief encounter
of a few nights ago could hardly have been called a duel. He took his stance,
ready for the unexpected. He found that he could not watch his opponent's
eyes as he usually did. They were never looking where he thought they
should. It was very disconcerting. No wonder Mondego was victorious in
his duels. While Mondego appeared to be looking over Zorro's left shoulder,
he struck. Zorro parried and struck back. Mondego stepped back and smiled.
Then he lunged again. This time there was a flurry of lightening fast moves
and counter moves. Zorro wanted to remain in front of his father to protect him,
but if he did not flow with the moves he must make against Mondego, he would
soon be dead and of no use to his father. He would just have to make sure that
he kept Mondego so busy defending himself that he would have no time to
threaten his father.
Never had he fought someone so quick. Around the room they moved, slicing,
thrusting, and parrying. There was almost no time to breathe. The clashing of
the swords was an incessant ringing in the room. Mondego's left handedness
did give him an advantage in the early moments of the fight. Zorro's cape
and the sleeve of his shirt had a couple of holes in them as testaments to the
closeness of the fight. But as the duel proceeded, Zorro understood more and
more how to counter the moves Mondego was making and began to press him.
Mondego was growing concerned. Usually by this time he was cleaning his
sword on his opponents clothing and collecting their valuables. His earlier
assessment of this Zorro was proving to be wrong. The man in black was
an excellent swordsman. As a matter of fact, he had never met anyone
who was better. Grinding his teeth, he redoubled his efforts. Their swords
were only a blur in the candle light. Several times he tried to move to
threaten Don Alejandro, but he could not pause even a moment or Zorro
would slip through his defenses and kill him. He decided to try something
new and upon his next lunge, he continued forward and grappled with
Zorro forcing him back upon the table in the center of the room. Both men
crashed on the table and it turned over with them. They rolled around on the
floor until Zorro got his foot between them and threw Mondego crashing back
against the wall. Mondego shook his head to clear it and found Zorro already
standing. He wondered why he was still alive. If he, Mondego, had been the
first man up, then he would have been the only one of the two of them still
alive. He realized that this Zorro operated by a code of honor and would not
take advantage of anopponent. Perhaps he could use this against him.
Zorro ran to his father and began to saw at the ropes that bound him to the
chair. If he could only get one hand free . . . . He did not have the time to
saw completely through before Mondego was upon him again.
Don Alejandro winced as Zorro's sword cut his right arm while trying to
cut the rope. As Zorro was forced to answer Mondego's sword again,
Don Alejandro saw that the rope was almost cut in two. If he could only
force it the rest of the way. He strained with all of his might as the fight
progressed. Both swordsmen crashed into Basilio's chair knocking it over,
but they both recovered at the same time and the fight moved away. Basilio
landed hard on the floor and the impact of the chair knocked him out. Don
Alejandro struggled hard against the rope, the blood from his cut making
things difficult. At last, his hand was free as the final fibers snapped. He
began working on the rope holding his other hand, but the knots were
difficult to undo with onlyone hand.
Both of the duelists were gasping for breath now. Their exertions were
beginning to tell and their reflexes were slowing. Mondego had been
slashed down the outside of his right arm and Zorro had a cut on his right
leg. Mondego had always hought of himself as a spawn of the devil, but
now he was starting to believe that he had a brother. Not even his fencing
masters in Spain had the skill of this Zorro. He used every dirty trick that
he knew. He picked up anything loose he could find and threw it at his
opponent. He shoved the table into his path. Still Zorro kept on coming.
In desperation, he drew the knife from his belt and threw it at Zorro
who ducked just in time.
The knife flew on and stuck in the back of the chair just to the left of Don
Alejandro's ear. Not taking time to think about how close he had come
to death, Don Alejandro grabbed the knife and began sawing at his ropes.
He knew that his son was growing weary from the prolonged fight. He
could hear the jagged breathing of both men and knew that sooner or
later one of them would make a mistake and the fight would be over. He
could only pray that it would not be his son.
Mondego refused to think of defeat. He would not be the one to die
tonight. All of these men in this room deserved to die! Not him. He
was the one who had been wronged by his birth and everyone would
pay! And this Zorro stood between him and his revenge. Knowing his
opponent's weakness, Mondego leaped back and pointed his sword
toward the floor leaving himself exposed. As he expected, Zorro
paused just out of reach watching to see what he was doing. Both
men were breathing heavily. Mondego used the respite to catch his
breath and regain some of his strength. He knew that Zorro would be
doing the same. He figured that Zorro would wait until he made the
next move. He would have to make it a good one. He would only
have one chance. Without moving a muscle, he readied himself.
With a loud yell, he leaped straight for Zorro his sword aimed right
at his eyes. To his surprise, Zorro ducked his shoulder underneath
him and threw him onto and over the overturned table. As he landed,
his sword snapped and the broken end plunged into his chest. He
rolled over and stared at it in disbelief. When he looked up again,
he saw the face of Zorro looking at him over the edge of the table.
When their eyes met, he saw the truth of it. He was going to die.
He motioned for Zorro to come closer. Warily, Zorro stepped
around behind the table and knelt beside him pushing the other
part of the broken sword away from Mondego's reach.
Mondego smiled knowingly, Zorro was right to remove all
weapons from his grasp. But strangely, he found that his arms
were growing heavy and he could not move. With just a small
motion of his hand, he asked Zorro to come even closer. Zorro
leaned closer. "You are the only man to have defeated me,
Senor Zorro," said Mondego weakly. You are the only man in this
world that has gained my respect. Before I die, I would like to see
the face of my greatest opponent."
Zorro could see the light fading in those restless, icy blue eyes. The
secret of Zorro would never be spoken by this man. And somehow
he felt it was right to respect the wish of a dying man. He looked
around and saw that both of them were behind the fallen table, out
of sight of the rest of the men in the room. He reached up and
pushed back his hat and pulled the mask down so that Mondego
could see him. "You!" gasped Mondego trying to sit up. "You," he
said again as he lay back down. "Yes, it is fitting that I would die in
the presence of the man who took my place in this world. I have
hated you from the beginning. My uncle was wrong about one thing.
The blood of the de Silva's does run in my veins. I inherit my capacity
for hate in the blood of the de Silva's. Perhaps it is best that the
de Silva blood dies with me. Be thankful that your father married
another." His voice fading, and his moving eyes growing dimmer,
Mondego gathered his strength one last time. "I have never asked
this of any man before, but I ask you to forgive me for my hatred. I
am dying and I know that I can ask this of no one else. Will you forgive
me?" His eyes locked with Diego's.
With a voice almost breaking from the sorrow he felt for the wasted
life before him, Diego said gently, "Yes. I forgive you." Mondego looked
at him gratefully and sighed. That was the last breath that he ever drew.
Diego reached up and gently closed the blue eyes for the last time. He
stayed kneeling by the man for a long time.
When Diego looked back up, he saw his father standing over him.
Saying nothing, Don Alejandro put his hand on his son's shoulder. His
pride in his son was never stronger. What a heart his son had. But they
could not linger. They needed to release the other men. To his son he
said, "Come. We have things to do." As Diego started to stand up, Don
Alejandro stopped him and made a motion for him to put the mask back on.
Diego smiled somberly and did so. They made their way over to the other
two men.
Viceroy de Silva was barely conscious. They quickly got him untied and
tried to revive him. The old man was clinging to life. He revived somewhat
and asked with a rasping voice, "What happened?"
Zorro looked to Don Alejandro. Don Alejandro spoke to de Silva. "During
the fight Mondego fell upon his own broken sword. He is dead."
"Another Mondego dead," said de Silva as he nodded his head with
satisfaction.
"No, Senor," said Don Alejandro. At de Silva's look, he continued,
"The great grandson of your father died here today. The same blood that
flows in your veins flowed out of his just now. It has stained the floor with
red." De Silva looked at him curiously. Then he winced in pain and
grabbed for his arm.
"What is it, Senor?" asked a concerned Zorro. "What is wrong?"
"I do not know, but the pain in my chest is crushing me. A doctor!
I need a doctor!"
Zorro motioned his father to step away from de Silva. "I will find
Bernardo and send him after the doctor." Before he could move,
Bernardo stepped into the room. He was dressed in his own
clothing that he had brought with him. Don Alejandro did a double t
ake at the crooked little mustache that ran across the servant's upper
lip. Zorro said, "Wipe your face and then ride for the doctor. Take
Mondego's horse. Hurry, the Viceroy may be dying. And bring Sergeant
Garcia to take care of the other ones. Go." Bernardo ran his sleeve
across his face and ran out to the horses. Soon he was gone.
"Alejandro! Where are you? Come here!" cried de Silva. "I am dying,
Alejandro, I am dying. I know it." Seeing Zorro, he said, "Where is my
treasure? I want to see it once more before I die. It is so beautiful,
Alejandro. Please bring it to me! Please?" He lay back gasping.
Don Alejandro and Zorro exchanged looks. "I will be right back,"
said Zorro. He went out favoring his right leg and came back a f
ew minutes later with the corner of his cape full of gold jewelry
encrusted with diamonds, emeralds and rubies. He placed it before
de Silva. Don Alejandro supported his shoulders so that he could
see his treasure. Grabbing a handful, he held it up for them to see.
"Look at it. Look how it shines in the candle light. Is it not beautiful?
So beautiful." Wincing in pain again, he dropped the jewelry. He
looked at Don Alejandro and Zorro. "But it is not as beautiful as a
newborn son is it, Alejandro? And it does not give you pride like a
son who is strong and brave will, eh, Alejandro?" He looked significantly
at Zorro and then back at Alejandro. "Do not play the innocent with me.
I can see the resemblance. I may be old and dying, but still I do not miss
much. Do you know what I had intended for this treasure, Alejandro,
son of my old friend?" At the shake of Alejandro's head, de Silva gathered
his strength and said, "It was to be the dowry for my niece when you two
got married. Since that did not happen, I just left the stuff buried on your
father's land and swore to forget it. But as I grew old, I found that I wanted
to see it once more. It was the stuff of the only happy time in my
life. The time when I knew your father and we two made plans for your
future. Your future and my niece's. I just wanted to see it again and
relive those few precious moments again before I died." He began
coughing. "That doctor will not get here in time, Alejandro. Take this
treasure and do what you will with it. I trust you with it. You and this
son of yours. Take it, take it all. Only, take a little of it and see that
Verde gets a decent burial with priests and all of that. I can do that for
him at least. Felipe can see to my burial. It will serve him right to have
to see to my proper burial. Maybe he will be perverse enough to bury me
next to Verde. You will see that it happens that way? Promise me,
Alejandro."
"I promise, Senor de Silva. I promise," said Don Alejandro.
"It is well. Oh, here comes that pain again! I will not survive another one!
Ohhhhh....." Even held in Don Alejandro's arms and supported by Zorro,
de Silva doubled up in pain. Then it was over. This time it was Don Alejandro
who gently closed the eyes of a dead man. Then he looked up at his son.
"Two men who were so lonely, who needed each other so much, died so
far apart even though they were only a few feet from each other," said
Don Alejandro. Zorro shook his head in agreement. Getting up, both men
looked towards Basilio who was still tied to his chair, unconscious. "I will
see to him, my son. Quickly, you must go now before Bernardo returns
with the doctor and the soldiers. Take this treasure and put it back in the
strong box and drive the wagon back home. We will decide what to do with
it later. Are you hurt much? I noticed the blood on your leg and saw that
you were limping."
"No, Father. It will be stiff for a while, but I will be all right. And you? Are
you all right? I see blood on your sleeve." Zorro pointed to the cut on Don
Alejandro's arm.
"It is nothing, my son. I am fine," said Don Alejandro.
"Then I will see you when you return home," Zorro said.
"May God go with you. Hurry now." Zorro gathered the jewelry up in his
cape and after a quick hug for his father, he went out of the door. Don
Alejandro soon heard the wagon moving off and a quick whistle as Zorro
called Tornado to follow him. He turned to the unconscious Basilio. "You
do not know what you have missed, Your Excellency," he murmured to
the man as he bent over to cut the ropes. "And the sad part is, you will
never know."
