by Jo Worthington
Part One
"Are you chasing Zorro? Well, you have a wonderful day for it."
Anna Maria smiled at Sergeant Garcia and then turned to wave at Zorro as he sped away on his white stallion, Phantom. Her eyes stung with the bittersweet moment. She had been waiting in the plaza. The bell had rung - the amnesty over. Zorro had not come. She was disappointed that he had not unmasked himself to receive amnesty from the Governor. She was breathless with excitement that he had risked his life for her in order to explain why.
She and Ricardo had been standing in the plaza. Ricardo had fallen prey to one of his own outlandish pranks. Some woman was claiming that he was her lost long husband, father of her children. Ricardo struggled against her. The prank was to be played on Diego who never showed up. As Ricardo twisted away from the determined woman he saw Zorro on his white stallion approaching at a fast gallop and headed straight for them.
"Look, there's Zorro!" he shouted.
Almost before Anna Maria could turn around, Zorro's strong arm reached down for her. Lifting her onto his horse he sped away with her until they were out of town. As Zorro gently placed her down, Anna Maria could scarcely catch her breath. She looked up at him, "You are late. The bell already sounded."
"I know."
"Am I to presume you wish to remain an outlaw?
"At the present time I must. I cannot let down those people who believe in me. Can you understand that?"
"Perhaps, in time, when I have had a chance to think." She was grievously disappointed and tried to understand. He had chosen duty over her. Surely this must have been a difficult decision but this was after all what she most loved and admired about Zorro. While other men played, avoided responsibility, wrote letters instead of acting, Zorro bravely fought for what he knew to be right.
This was what she thought about for days and nights. But this was not all she thought about...
"Will I ever see your face?" she had asked him.
"You have only to look about you." These words rang in her ears.
What did he mean by this? Was he trying to say that they did know each other? Could he be someone from her own town of Monterey even though many said he lived in the pueblo of Los Angeles? Could he be masquerading as a servant perhaps? Anna Maria resolved that she would spend her life if necessary trying to answer these questions. What chance she had, she did not know but she did know that she would not give herself to any man in marriage unless it was to Zorro. She did not yet know Zorro but at that moment she knew herself. Yes, Zorro, we will meet again.
The lashing of Tornado's mane whipped at his face as he bent low over the horse's neck urging him faster, faster. The thunder of hooves behind him, Zorro knew he had taken too great a chance. The path ahead was lit a blue-gray by the waning moon. He was thankful that Tornado could see because he could not. The long, coarse mane and rushing wind stung his face and eyes. The soldiers were too close. If he turned Tornado to the box canyon now they would see where he had gone.
Even if he completely disappeared into the cave the soldiers would know enough to stay and search the area. They were not so superstitious as to believe that the Fox was supernatural. They had been close enough to know that he was flesh and blood and flesh and blood could be caught. Zorro could not simply vanish. But vanish he did.
This was his boyhood playground. Ahead there was a small path worn among the huge rocks known only by a few people in the area. It would be safe enough underfoot for Tornado if Zorro were careful to slow him down just enough. He pulled back on the reins, pressed his right leg tight against the horse's side and Tornado responded. The soldiers' horses thundered past. Not a moment to spare. Zorro quickly turned Tornado back onto the main road and urged him toward the direction of the soldiers. He followed them as they sped past the box canyon and then sharply cut the horse into the canyon toward the cave.
In the cave Zorro slid off his exhausted black horse. The horse would give his life to him and almost did this night. The Fox's knees buckled under him as he landed on the hard cave floor. He had no strength to take care of his beloved Tornado. He took a deep breath and through the strength of determination alone made his way up the stairs through the secret passageway toward his room.
Bernardo was waiting for his master's return. He dozed fitfully, lying across the foot of Diego's bed. The nightshirt and dressing gown were carefully laid out. Throughout the night Bernardo opened the door to the passageway and listened, sometimes going down to the cave to make sure they hadn't already returned. His stomach churned when he saw a thin band of pale yellow light on the horizon. Dawn was approaching - something was wrong.
Then he heard it - the heavy sound of hooves and Tornado's loud snort from below. He met Zorro as he was making his way up the stairs holding onto the stone walls as he climbed.
Diego pulled at his mask as he sat heavily on the stair. "Take care of Tornado. Make sure he is all right." That was all he had the strength to say.
Bernardo took his arm and Diego resisted and pointed down to the cave toward Tornado.
Bernardo had no choice but to go down and tend to the horse. When he saw the condition Tornado was in he knew Diego was right. The horse had been ridden very hard. Even from a distance Bernardo could feel the heat from the valiant animal. Sliding the saddle off, Bernardo quickly covered him with a blanket. He walked the horse back and forth in the cave. He laid his hand on the deep heaving chest. It took more than an hour but finally Tornado was cooling down, his breathing slower and more normal. For love of the horse and for Diego's sake he would not leave the animal until he was completely cooled and calm.
Diego had made his way upstairs. In the passageway he let his cape, hat and mask drop to the ground and placed his sword in its scabbard on the table. He had never in his life felt so tired. His side hurt from what, he could not remember. In his room he dropped his clothes and kicked them out of sight under the bed. Pulling on the nightshirt, he finally lay down and fell instantly into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
"Diego, Diego! How late do you plan to sleep?"
With a huge effort Diego opened his eyes. His father was shaking him. "Diego, for heaven's sake. It is almost noon. It is time to wake up."
Turning his head and squinting against the sunlight streaming through the open window Diego saw his father and the worried face of Bernardo looking down on him. He tried to move and opened his mouth to speak but the effort was too great. He closed his eyes again.
Don Alejandro turned to Bernardo. "What is the matter with him?”
Bernardo shook his head and frowned. He had no idea what had happened last night. Don Alejandro was proud of his son. He was proud to be the father of Zorro even if no one knew except the three of them in that room. He knew that he had forced his son into making a choice to remain as Zorro when all he really wanted to do was to marry Anna Maria and live a normal life. For this, Don Alejandro felt sorry.
But nevertheless, Diego, as the son of Don Alejandro de la Vega, had to keep up appearances. He had obligations and today they were receiving important guests for lunch.
"Diego, I must ask you to get up now. I am sorry." Don Alejandro pulled back the covers and gasped. On his nightshirt and spreading across the sheet was a small pool of blood at Diego's right side.
"But Comandante ... Sí, Comandante. We tried. We almost had him but he disappeared completely."
"Babosos - all of you. Sergeant Garcia get out. Take your men and get out of my sight. I cannot believe you allowed him to escape again."
In some ways the sergeant was glad Zorro had gotten away. They had been so close that he felt he could have almost caught the hem of his black cape. But the black horse took off and again Zorro rode the wind back into the night. Several of the soldiers fired shots but at that speed on horseback it would have been impossible to take careful aim. The sergeant considered Zorro a very worthy opponent and no one really expected to catch him. The Fox was a hero among the people of the pueblo. He had certainly done more good for the people than all of the comandantes combined. The abuse of a comandante would never equal the hate that would be directed at him by the townspeople if he ever did succeed in capturing Zorro. Besides, Zorro had time and again proven to be a friend and ally of Sergeant Garcia.
The next day the sergeant decided to inspect the tavern. Perhaps his friend Diego would be there to buy him a refreshment.
Diego was not there but seated at one of the tables was Corporal Reyes and three more of the soldiers who had ridden with him last night. Several customers had gathered around to hear the tale of how close they had been to actually catching the legendary Zorro. As they told their stories Garcia sat down. For once no one had to exaggerate the truth. Cups were passed and wine was poured and this time Garcia did not need his good friend, Diego, to buy him a drink.
"Bernardo! Get water and towels - plenty of towels, quickly."
Bernardo was out the door before Don Alejandro finished his commands. He knew what was needed.
Don Alejandro tore the nightshirt away from the wound. He could not tell how bad it was until Bernardo got back with the towels.
"Diego, my son, Diego, can you open your eyes? Tell me what happened to you."
Diego frowned but did not open his eyes. At least Don Alejandro knew that he was conscious. Bernardo returned with a pan of warm water and stack of clean, white towels. They turned Diego slightly. They discovered a deep gash along his ribcage. It looked as thought a bullet had just grazed his side. It appeared as though the bleeding had stopped.
Don Alejandro shuddered to think of what would have happened to his only son if the bullet had been a centimeter or so closer.
"Bernardo, he must regain his strength. He must rest and take nourishment. Please - go to the kitchen. Get something light to eat and drink. Later I will let it be known that he is working on government paperwork for me and must not be disturbed while he concentrates. Do not let anyone else in his room. Until we find out what happened last night no one must know that Diego is ill. And Bernardo, where are Zorro's clothes? I must see if he had lost a lot of blood last night. If it is too much we may need to trust the doctor to help him."
Bernardo had started out of the room to go to the kitchen and then turned back when Don Alejandro asked for the clothes. He was confused. Go, stay? He had no idea where the clothes were.
"Never mind, Bernardo. I am sorry. I will look for the clothes. You go to the kitchen."
The mask and hat were in the secret room but no clothes. As Don Alejandro turned back to go into the bedroom a corner of black material under the bed caught his eye. Yes, there had been a lot of blood but Don Alejandro decided to wait before taking a chance on calling for a doctor. His son was young and strong. He was certain that with the help of Bernardo and himself, Diego would be able to recuperate without the doctor.
"You have only to look about you." That is what he said and that is what she would do. Anna Maria had lain awake long into the night for many nights. She looked about her. There was no one among her many friends and her admirers who could possibly be Zorro. She had seen Ricardo and Zorro together. In fact she had introduced them to each other. It couldn't be Ricardo. It wasn't Diego. He was not a man of action. He lacked ambition and the skill with a sword that she had seen Zorro display. Anna Maria made it a point to speak to the servants, to store clerks and vendors on the street. It was not unusual for her to address all manner of people and treat them with reserved respect. She merely made it a point to discretely observe them more closely.
No one had his voice, his stance. No one had a white horse like his or rode the way he did or smiled like he did. Zorro must be someone else by day but who? She felt she would know him in an instant. She would know him without his mask. If only she could find him.
It had been weeks since she had last seen Zorro. Anna Maria had heard that he was back in Los Angeles. She would not give up hope that he would come back to Monterey but she must find a reason to travel to Los Angeles.
Before she could invent such a reason, sad news reached them.
"Anna Maria, do you remember Don Gilberto Rodrigo and his family?
"Sí, uncle, I remember them very well. I used to play with their daughter, Josefina when we were very young before they left Monterey."
" Sí, I remember you two as little girls. Your father was concerned that you and she did not behave in a very lady-like fashion when you were together. Well, sadly, it seems that Don Gilberto’s wife, Eugenia, has died suddenly. I feel that I must pay my respects to the family and I thought that since you knew them well you would want to come with me and also represent your father to the family while he is in Spain."
" Sí, of course, Uncle, I will. I can be ready to leave tomorrow if you like. Yes? I will send for Lupe to help me pack. Good night, Uncle."
She could barely sleep that night.
