Diego leaned against the balustrade that surrounded the balcony outside his bedroom. He was tired to the bone. In fact, he couldn't recall ever having been quite so exhausted in his entire life. He rubbed his eyes and pressed his fingers against the lids, resting them for just a moment. The evening air was beginning to cool and felt wonderful against his flushed cheeks. He raised one arm and ran his fingers through the dark tangle of his hair. He breathed deeply and hoped that he would find sufficient energy to get through the night.
Zorro had ridden the night before and had been forced to press Tornado hard for many miles. He feared that the horse was as weary as the rider. And Zorro had to ride again tonight. He paced uneasily as he thought. Diego had managed to crawl into bed as the dawn sky was breaking. How good it had felt to rest against the soft mattress. He was asleep before Bernardo had finished putting away his clothes. He felt that he had barely slept when his father began pounding at the bedroom door.
"It is eight o'clock," Alejandro frowned disapprovingly. "Are you going to sleep all day? There are tasks I need you to perform."
"Yes, Father," Diego obediently dragged himself from the bed. "I am at your service. What do you wish me to do?"
Diego stayed busy all morning and well into the afternoon. It seemed that no matter how much he accomplished, Alejandro had yet another duty for him. He knew how bitterly disappointed in his only son Alejandro was. The words that would dispel the myth of his laziness and disinterest rose to his lips a dozen times, but always he managed to swallow them before they escaped. It hurt him to deceive his father, but the deception must continue. Finally he managed to escape to his room. He had thought to catch a brief nap but instead found himself out here on the balcony. He heard the soft footfalls of Bernardo behind him and turned to face his manservant.
"I'm too tired to eat," he waved away the tray he saw in Bernardo's hands. Bernardo went back into the bedroom, Diego close behind. Bernardo set the tray on the desk and pulled out the chair invitingly, but Diego would have none of it. He walked to the fireplace before turning back to face his friend.
"I don't think Zorro will ride tonight," he said abruptly. "Don't look at me like that," he responded to the expression of horror and disbelief on Bernardo's round face. Again he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Why must I remain Zorro?" he demanded with exasperation as he began to pace around the room. "My father thinks I am a spineless, foppish, foolish man. He will never be proud of me as long as I maintain this charade, and I want him to be proud of me. Is that terrible? That a son would want to see his father look at him with respect rather than disappointment?" He angrily pounded the hidden spot on the mantle, and the secret door swung open.
"This is my life," he pointed to the room. "Dark corridors that lead to dark caves. Night's darkness to hide me from the eyes of those who would hunt and kill me. What kind of life is this? Deceit. Lies. Secret comings and goings. Exhaustion and aching muscles. No love. No wife. No children."
He slammed the button again, and the door swung shut. Bernardo sat and watched Diego stomp around the room. His thoughts were in a tumult now as well. He loved Diego as if he were his own son. He was proud of the sacrifices Diego made for the welfare of countless others. He believed deep in his heart that Diego would rue the day he ever decided to lay Zorro to rest. Diego was courage and justice personified. He could no more sit idly by and see wrongs go unpunished than he could fly to the moon. Bernardo knew these things, but he had no words with which to speak them.
Both men started when there came a knock at the door. "Señorita Cruz is here, Diego," Alejandro said. "Will you please join us in the sala?"
"Father, I ...," Diego began, but Alejandro cut him off.
"Now, Diego." The younger de la Vega bowed slightly before following his father from the room. He motioned for Bernardo to remain behind.
As he followed his father down the stairs and across the courtyard, Diego's thoughts raced. It was Isobela Cruz's fiancé whom Zorro had rescued the night before. Diego hoped that her presence here, now, didn't mean that something had gone wrong.
"Isobela," Diego smiled warmly at his long time friend. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "As lovely as ever," he said and kissed her hand. He indicated that she should sit on the sofa, and he occupied the space beside her. His father settled into the chair near the fire.
"To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" Diego smiled again.
"I am leaving Los Angeles and moving to Monterey," she explained. "I didn't want to go without saying good bye."
"Why Monterey, my dear?" Alejandro asked. "And why so suddenly?"
"You know that I am to wed Javier Merced?" Isobela asked.
"Yes, your father told me," Alejandro nodded. "But I heard just yesterday that he was being detained by the comandante for some minor violation. Is that not true?"
"It was until Zorro rescued him," Isobela's face beamed happily.
"Zorro?" Diego and Alejandro said in unison.
"Yes," Isobela nodded. "That wonderful, blessed man managed to get my Javier out of the cell, out of the cuartel, and away to Monterey. I am going to meet him there, and we will be wed immediately."
"I am grateful for your happiness," Diego said sincerely.
"Happy doesn't seem to be the right word for how I feel," Isobela laughed. "Yesterday everything seemed so hopeless. Javier was in jail. I was scared that we would never be together or, worse, that Javier would be killed. I would have died, too. And then there was this wonderful miracle - a man who calls himself Zorro. He saved both our lives and gave us a future together. I only wish there was some way I could tell him, thank him for what he's done."
"I'm sure that your joy is thanks enough for him," Diego said with conviction.
"Do you think so?" Isobela asked. "I hope so. I owe him a debt I could never repay. I would like to think that he knew, at least, how very grateful I am that such a brave, magnificent man exists."
Diego and Alejandro walked their guest to the front gate. "Be well and happy, my dear," Alejandro kissed Isobela on the forehead.
"I wish you every joy the world has to offer," Diego embraced her. The men watched her go.
"Well, Father, I'm off to bed," Diego announced.
"At a reasonable hour?" Alejandro asked with surprise.
"I'm sure you have plenty for me to do tomorrow," Diego laughed. "Good night, Father."
Diego nearly bounded up the steps two at a time. The heavy mantle of exhaustion and discouragement he had been wearing had fallen from his shoulders at Isobela's words. It was only the fatigue that had made him doubt the wisdom of being Zorro he decided. Zorro was needed by too many people for him to even consider stopping Zorro's ride. Too often Zorro was the only thing standing between the innocent and the cruel tortures men like the comandante inflicted upon them. Perhaps one day Diego would be able to tell his father the truth about Zorro. Perhaps one day he would marry and have children. But for now it was enough to know that the work Zorro did was irreplaceable and important.
"Come, my friend," Diego clapped Bernardo on his shoulder. "We have much to do before Zorro rides tonight."
