"Diego! Diego! What is it? What is wrong?" Don Alejandro knelt down by his son and cradled him against his chest. Something was clearly wrong with Diego. He seemed to be delirious. His eyes were tightly closed and he was panting as though from fear. "Diego! Can you hear me? It is your father. I’m here, Diego. I’m here." Still clutching Diego, Don Alejandro looked down upon his son as he tried to imagine what could be wrong with him.
Bernardo had knelt down beside both men with a stricken look on his face. Diego’s outcry just as Don Alejandro had reached for the younger man still echoed in his soul. He would never forget that sound as long as he lived. Suddenly, Diego began coughing, and Bernardo helped Don Alejandro to hold him. Reaching up to feel of Diego’s forehead, Bernardo knew that Diego was very, very ill. Motioning to Don Alejandro, he made his thoughts known.
Don Alejandro also placed his hand on Diego’s forehead and felt the raging fever that had taken hold of his son. Such a thing scared him to the center of his being. They needed to get Diego to a doctor as soon as possible. It was all too common for people to die when they were as sick as this. He had seen it too many times. He had himself nearly died from such an illness when he was younger. He suppressed a shudder at his own memories of that time. With such a fever, he did not wonder that Diego was out of his head and delirious.
Don Alejandro looked up as he heard bottles clinking when Bernardo set his saddlebag down next to them. Rummaging around in the bag for a moment, he brought out a large brown bottle. Making a drinking motion, he pointed to Diego.
"You want him to take that medicine? What is it?" asked Don Alejandro, seeing that the bottle was not labeled.
Bernardo started to try and explain, but gave up immediately. Again, he motioned that Diego should take some of the liquid in the bottle. Don Alejandro was of a mind not to let Bernardo give some strange potion to his son, but then their eyes met. Don Alejandro knew then that he trusted Bernardo with his son’s life. He had done so for almost two years, had he not? Relenting and smiling a little to show his approval, he nodded.
Carefully, they helped Diego swallow some of the medicine and had to hold him again when he started coughing once more. With Don Alejandro cradling Diego’s head and shoulders, Bernardo began to inspect Diego’s limbs, looking for the source of the blood on Zorro’s saddle.
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"I know that was a man’s voice I heard!" exclaimed Pedroza. All of the men had heard the hoarse cry of someone in the near distance. "We are getting close! That has to be Zorro. He is wounded and dying, crying out in his pain," Pedroza speculated with glee. "We will have him! Don Emilio! Which way will get us there the quickest?"
Don Emilio looked around across the rugged landscape and then said, "We must go to the left, down this trail, Capitán."
"That is the wrong direction!" exclaimed Pedroza. "The voice came from over there!" He pointed in the opposite direction. "You are lying, trying to protect the outlaw," he accused angrily.
"No, Capitán," said Don Emilio. "I am not lying. There is no direct route to where you want to go," said Don Emilio. "See for yourself."
Growling, Pedroza drove his horse to the edge of the expanse to see for himself. Angrily he spun the horse around when he saw that what the don had reported was true. "Go on!" he shouted, gesturing with his hand. "Get going. I want to get over there as soon as possible. Go!"
Don Emilio urged his horse down the trail as fast as he dared. No, he did not want to protect Zorro. He wanted to find the man and then get away from Pedroza as fast as he could. His dislike for the capitán had been rather cool before today, but now the feeling had been fanned into flames by the capitán’s attitude. Let Pedroza find Zorro and then he could go back to his wife and family.
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Bernardo’s examination discovered a small wound on the back of Diego’s left calf, just above the top of the boot. When he lifted Diego’s leg, water ran out of the boot. Bernardo looked at Don Alejandro.
"He must have fallen in the water," said Don Alejandro, as he gently smoothed Diego’s disheveled hair back from his face.
Bernardo nodded and signed that the water had cleansed the wound. It was a small wound, not serious so long as it did not become infected. It had bled but little since Diego had climbed out of the stream, leaving only a small trace or two of blood on the stony ground. Bernardo took off both of Diego’s boots and held them up to let the water run out. From one of the boots, the left one, a small, black bullet fell out. Bernardo picked up the bullet and held it up for the elder don to see. He indicated that it must have been the cause of the wound in Diego’s leg.
"He was almost out of range before it hit him," mused Don Alejandro, "or it would have done much more damage." Bernardo nodded in agreement as he tossed the bullet into the stream. He felt again of Diego’s forehead and looked worried. Only a day ago, Diego had been a strong and virile man. Now he was brought low by this illness. The need to get him home became urgent. He set about to bandage the wound to it to keep it clean and then replaced the boots.
"How long before he can be moved?" asked Don Alejandro. He looked at the servant, who scratched his head.
The mozo looked around the mountains and at the angle of the sun. He motioned that it would be dark in a few hours. If they were going to get down from the mountain before dark, they would have to leave now. He made the sign of someone sleeping and pointed to Diego, then shrugged his shoulders.
"I will carry him with me on my horse," Don Alejandro said firmly. Bernardo caught his arm and shook his head no. "What do you mean, no?" said Don Alejandro in sudden anger. Bernardo pointed to the elder de la Vega’s mount and then over to Tornado who was only a little distance away, watching them with his ears forward. "You want me to ride Tornado?" Don Alejandro whispered. Bernardo nodded and motioned that he had ridden the black stallion and that Don Alejandro could also. "Why?" asked Don Alejandro.
Bernardo tried to convey that Don Alejandro’s horse was not as strong as Tornado and not as agile. It would take an extraordinary horse to carry the two men down the steep and treacherous trail back down the mountain. Especially when one was unconscious.
Don Alejandro looked at Tornado, who returned his look calmly. He had never dreamed that he would ever have the occasion to ride the horse of El Zorro. But Bernardo was right. Don Alejandro’s horse was already tired. The way down was dangerous and it would take a special horse to carry two men on his back under those conditions. His attention was drawn back to Diego who stirred and moaned a little, coughing again. He shoved aside the worry that gripped his heart as he held Diego tightly. They had work to do.
"Bring Tornado here," he said decisively, and Bernardo went to bring the stallion closer.
As Tornado came to stand next to his master and his father, his head snapped up and he turned his head to face north. He snorted and pawed at the ground. He could hear that there were many horses coming their way and that was a sign that they needed to be away from here. Many horses usually meant that his master was in danger.
"What is the matter with Tornado?" asked Don Alejandro, looking up at the stallion.
Bernardo shrugged, but noticed that Tornado was looking in a fixed direction, with his ears pricked forward. Holding up his hand to Don Alejandro, he went in that same direction to scout around. He climbed up on a particularly large boulder and peered over the top. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that Capitán Pedroza and his men were coming in their direction. They were having to negotiate a difficult trail down into the valley, but there was no doubt that they were headed toward the very spot where Diego lay.
Slipping down from the rock, Bernardo ran over to Don Alejandro and conveyed this information. He motioned that they must hurry or be discovered.
Don Alejandro looked down at Diego. Slapping Diego’s face gently but firmly, Don Alejandro said, "Diego. Diego wake up. I need you to wake up." He kept at it until Diego began to move his head from side to side. "That’s it, Diego. Wake up now. Come on, you can do it."
Diego took a deep breath and opened his eyes. For a moment, he could not orient himself, but then he remembered the sword. "Agghh...." he breathed in fear. "Monastario!" he cried out as he tried to get away.
Don Alejandro held him tightly and said, "Monastario? No, Diego it is your father. Look at me. Your father. See?" Little by little, Don Alejandro could see Diego coming back to him.
Weakly, Diego said, "Father?"
"Yes, Diego, I’m here. You are safe. But you are very sick. We must get you home. We have to hurry. I need you to help me. Do you understand?" asked Don Alejandro.
"Home?" said Diego.
"Home," Don Alejandro confirmed. "Diego, I need you to try and get up on Tornado. Can you do that if we help you?"
Frowning, Diego tried to think. Then he looked at the man holding him and recognized him at last. "Father," he said with conviction and relief. Then he started coughing again which left him panting and exhausted.
Part One
Part Two
Part Four
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