The Secret of Zorro
King of the Gypsies
Chapters One through Three
by Ella Christian @1999-2001
Contact author at EllaChristian@aol.com

Chapter One
Acquisitions 

It all began when a band of gypsies rattled into town. Two wagonloads of clanging pots and wild fabrics dangling everywhere.  Though overridden, they had unusually fine horses, Diego noted, as he stood on the porch of the posada with Sergeant Garcia watching these strangers arrive.

"Oh, Don Diego, I do not think we need a new band of gypsies in Los Angeles," Sergeant Garcia sighed, wiping his brow.  It was unusually warm for early May.  

"They do present challenges," Diego agreed, "but then they also bring a great deal of life and entertainment, don't you think? Perhaps they will be dancers and singers, and we will have some fine parties here in the plaza as the evenings warm up."

"Perhaps, although at this rate it is going to warm up too much," said Garcia.  Then he winced as a pair of chickens came flying out one of the wagons.  "I hope they do not have any pigs in there, too."

At that moment, a goat's head popped out from under a cloth stretched across the rear of second wagon. 

Diego laughed.  "No pigs," he said.

"And tell me, how is Seņora Elizabeth?" Garcia asked, trying to get this new headache off his mind for a moment.  "I think she is near her time?"

"It is still a month off," Diego replied, "but she is doing well, Sergeant. I'll tell her you asked after her."

"I have not seen her in many weeks, she used to come to the pueblo so often and cheer us up on a cloudy day.  She is very...cheering."

"Yes, she is," Diego smiled.  "But she is far past being able to ride or travel, she is really very...." he paused, and then said, "...large."

"seņora Elizabeth large...." Garcia said. "Somehow I cannot imagine that."  He looked at his friend.  "But I suppose you would not exaggerate about it, Don Diego."

"She would not like me saying it!" Diego confided.  "But we are friends and so I suppose I can say it to you.  It is all a very new experience, this matter of waiting for a baby to be born.  I am not sure I am very good at it."

"You can say anything you want about largeness to me," Garcia assured him, "and I will take no offense, and I probably will not even view it as large.  Large is...well...a relative thing."

"Sergeant, I believe that even you would agree with me that seņora Elizabeth is really quite large," Diego stated.

Garcia looked at his young friend.  Although he was regularly in the pueblo, sitting about in the tavern as he used to before he married, Don Diego was somehow different in recent weeks.  He looked more grave and laughed less often, he even seemed a little jumpy.  Garcia and Reyes discussed it periodically. They had together concluded that the jumpiness was a result of Diego's nervousness over impending fatherhood.  When they were not drinking, they let it go at that.  When they were drinking, however, it always led to further speculation, about exactly who the father of that baby really was.  This always plunged the good Sergeant into a state of grief which required much alcohol to vanquish.  Garcia genuinely liked Don Diego, and he found the seņora utterly lovely. But he had never recovered from the shocking moment some three months before when he had, from the hillside above, unintentionally observed El Zorro and seņora Elizabeth in the de la Vega garden.  Garcia was no fool.  Well, perhaps he was a fool, but he was not a blind one. It took all of the discretion his soul could muster to refrain from discussing the great and terrible secret, but thus far he had managed to do so.  He had not even breathed a word of it to Clementia.  

"But you still care for her, large or not, don't you?" Garcia asked.

"I would be unable to breath without her," Diego replied.

"Well, I suppose that qualifies," Garcia observed.  Just as he finished his sentence a great shouting match began inside one of the gypsy wagons.  It was not in Spanish, but it was heated, it was a man and a woman, and it sounded dangerous.  "You will have to excuse me, Don Diego, I must see to this situation," the Sergeant said, and with that he stepped into the sunlight and walked towards the wagon, which commenced to shake thanks to someone shoving someone else inside it.

A woman began screaming, and then a man jumped out, a knife in his hand.  He shouted something unintelligible, saw Garcia coming, and raced to one of the gypsy's horses.  Jumping onto the horse's back, he kicked its sides and it galloped off.  The woman in the wagon, holding the shoulders of a small boy, stuck her head out and continued screaming. Diego, watching from the posada step, judged the language to be a Romany dialect.

"Please, seņora, please," Garcia tried to calm her from the ground.  She shoved the child behind her and looked down at him.

"What do you want?" she snapped, switching to heavily accented Spanish.

"I want to make sure you are all right, and then I want to find out your business here in Los Angeles, and most of all I want you to cease with all this noise!" the Sergeant answered.

"I shall make what noise I wish!" she shouted at him.  She was black-haired, in her middle thirties, and quite beautiful.  

"And was that man...was that your husband?" Garcia asked.

"My husband!" she cried, spitting.  "That was my brother!  So is this!"  She yanked the little boy back out into plain view.  He looked sullen and dirty.

Garcia looked at the child and then in the direction of the man who had just ridden off.  "Your mother is a remarkable woman," he observed.

"My mother!" she cried.  Then suddenly she shifted moods, smiled, and said, "My mother is in the wagon ahead, if you would like to meet her."

Garcia looked at the other wagon, which was still and silent.  "She seems to have a very different personality from you," he ventured.

"They say I take after my father!"

"And is he here?"

"He is coming!" she cried, pointing at the hills to the east.  Then her eyes fell on Diego where he still stood, watching the little scene, from the posada step.  "Who is that?" she asked.

"Why, that is Don Diego de la Vega," Garcia answered.  

She stared at him, her head turning curiously.  Diego's eyes met hers and they stared at one another.  Then he stepped forward, not breaking her gaze.

"Welcome to Los Angeles," he said, smiling at her.

"Thank you," she smiled back.  She continued to hold the gaze, as he did.  Finally she broke it, and cursed.

"seņora!" Garcia exclaimed.  "That is not very ladylike!"

She looked at Diego again and then withdrew inside the wagon without a word.

"What in the world is going on with her?" Garcia asked.

"Oh, it is a gypsy custom," Diego explained.  "Once they give you the eye, they take the upper hand.  Unless of course you stare them down.  It is a way of breaking power, I suppose."

"She was trying to get control of you?" Garcia asked.

"It would seem that way," Diego said, "though I cannot imagine why!  What is there to control, with me?" 

They both laughed.  "True, Don Diego, true," said Garcia.  

"You will need to excuse me, then," Diego said.  "I must return to our hacienda and spend some time with Elizabeth.  She feels rather trapped there, as you can imagine.  I am sure she would enjoy a visit from you, Sergeant."

"Oh, I could not possibly do that, Don Diego!" the Sergeant replied.  "She is in too delicate a condition for someone like me to call on her!"

"Well, if you feel that way, I understand.  But do not stay away on our account."  He looked at the gypsy wagons again.  "And good luck with this new...situation."

"Thank you, I fear I shall need it," the Sergeant said.

Diego patted his friend on the shoulder and then went to his horse to return to Rancho de la Vega.  As he mounted, he noticed that the gypsy woman who had tried to give him the evil eye was peering at him from deep within the wagon.  The little boy she had jerked around earlier was sitting beside her, looking at Diego's horse.  He kicked Apache's sides and rode away, his mind suddenly absorbed by thoughts of his wife.  

***

Elizabeth was alone, walking slowly among the new beds recently dug to expand her gardens, when she heard Diego's horse approaching on the road.  She bent over to pull a weed and had quite a lot of difficulty straightening up again, which he saw as he rode up.  

"Will you please leave this weeding to the servants?" he said, sliding off Apache and rushing to her to help her right herself.  

"I am not an invalid," she said.  "I just need a basket to carry little baby around in.  This basket," she rubbed her stomach, "is becoming too small." She felt her lower back, which ached.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, his hand coming to her back.

"Diego, I'm fine," she told him, resuming her walking.  "I need to be outdoors some, I am trapped inside all the time and it is making me terrible."  She looked up the hill, to the wooden bench that Bernardo had placed under the live oaks.  "Let's go up and sit on the hilltop," she said.

"Can you make it up there?" he asked.

She look at him with exasperation.  "Yes!" she said.

"All right, all right, let's stop right this moment," he said, putting his arms around her.

"Don't," she said pulling away from him.

He held on to her. "We are not going to fight this morning," he said.

"Then stop treating me like I'm an old woman!" she said irritably.  She did, however, let him hold her.  She gave in and put her head on his shoulder.

"That's better," he said softly.  "We'll go up the hill if you want to, but you must let me put my arm around you..." she lifted her head in protest, but he interrupted, "...not because I think you need help, but because that is the way I like to walk up hills with you."

She sighed.  "You are impossible," she said.  

His arm came around her and they began slowly making their way up the hill.  Despite her protests he could tell she was glad for the support. "How is our little one?" he asked.  

"Kicking, turning, unable to make up her mind..." Elizabeth said.  Her hand came over his.  "I will be so glad when this is over, Diego."  

They continued up the hill in silence, and he helped her sit, then sat beside her, keeping one arm around her shoulders. He was worried.  After several months of calm, she had begun the shaking again, in the middle of the night.  He tried everything he could think of to help her sleep to soothe her when this happened, but night after night he would awaken to sense her far away from him in the bed, her entire body shivering in apprehension and fear.  Everything seemed compromised and out of kilter.
  
"It is only a few more weeks," he said, as much to himself as to her.  "Then we will have her out in this big world with us, and we will be a real family, and you will feel much better, darling.  And she will be so pretty, she will look just like you, she will be the greatest joy to us. I think we will wonder whatever we did without her."

She laid her head on his shoulder.  "I know you are right, but at the moment, all I can feel is how terrible I feel. I'm afraid my life will always be like this from now on."

"Oh, sweetheart, no," he said.  "You will be pulling weeds from your garden and riding Blanca in no time, I promise."

"Please be right," she whispered.

"There was a little excitement in town this morning," he told her, trying to change the subject.

"Oh?"

"Yes, two wagons, a big family of gypsies."

"Gypsies?"

"Si, quite a few I suspect.  Sergeant Garcia was not happy. He sends you his greetings, by the way, and points out that 'large is a relative thing.' "

She laughed.  "I think right now I win the large prize, even over Sergeant Garcia.  I am as large as he is but I am not over six feet tall."  Then she added, "Gypsies can be trouble." 

"Your largeness is a result of very different activities from Sergeant Garcia's largeness!" he pointed out.

"Si," she laughed again.  Then she groaned in sudden pain.

"Elizabeth?" he asked in alarm.

"No, no, it's all right, just a little cramp," she said.  "They happen, it passes.  It isn't anything.  I asked the doctor.  It's gone already."

"How often does that happen?"

"Not often," she said, looking up into his face.  "Really."

He could tell she wasn't lying.  "Stay there a little while longer," he said to her stomach.  

"I hope this is a child who will mind her Daddy, at least for now," Elizabeth said.  She was beginning to relax.  

"This is really very difficult," he said.  It was the first time he admitted it to her.

She looked at him, and stroked his cheek.  "I know," she said, tears coming into her eyes.  "I think it is very hard, to have a baby when a marriage is still so young..."

"At least we are together," he said, hugging her.  "As you know, my poor parents stayed across the room from each other from the moment they found out she was expecting me."

"How awful for your mother," Elizabeth said.

"How awful for Father!" Diego said. 

"How alone are we up here?" she asked.

***

Across the arroyos, Elizabeth's father was in a very different situation under a different live oak tree.  In the year since his arrival, Carlos Matteo had managed to establish himself as a senior and respected presence in the community.  His reputation preceded him with many families that still had ties to Spain. It was through these connections that he had managed to purchase the fine hacienda, locally referred to as Casa Matteo, and the extensive acres of riverside land he now possessed.  All of this land had originally been given by the King to various dons through land grants.  Matteo had skillfully, gradually, silently -- and, it could be said, shrewdly -- undertaken a series of purchases of seemingly-unrelated little parcels of land, often some distance from Casa Matteo.    

It was on this same morning when Alejandro de la Vega, sitting in his library studying a recently-commissioned map of the entire Los Angeles basin, pounded his palm on the desk with the realization that his son's father-in-law was quietly assembling one of the largest independently-acquired ranchos in the region.  He had shouted for Diego, who heard his father from the courtyard where he was sitting with Elizabeth debating about names for their child.  They had made their way back down from the hillside and were awaiting lunch.  

"What is it?" Diego asked, rushing into the library.  Elizabeth was right behind him.

"Have you seen this?" Alejandro pointed vigorously at the map. Then he saw Elizabeth.  "Elizabeth, you must excuse us, I have business I must do with Diego!"  Then he looked at Elizabeth again and said, "You are looking relaxed this morning, my dear."

She peered around Diego to see that a large map was spread across her father-in-law's desk.  Diego sensed that something big was amiss and herded her back towards the door.  "I'll be right back," he told her.  

"But..." she started.

He waved her off and shut the door, returning his attention to his father.  "What is so important and what must she be left out of?" he asked, coming over to where his father stood, his hand still on the map.

"Look at this!" Alejandro said, again pointing at the map.  

Diego looked at it, and shrugged.  "It is a map of the basin," he said.  

"Yes, and look at all the land, how it is divided!"  Alejandro said.

Diego scanned the map carefully.  Then, unable to help himself, he chuckled.  "Now I see how Carlos has been spending his time over the long autumn and rainy winter," he said.

"This is an outrage," Alejandro said, starting to pace.  "The man has no shame!  These ranchos are the work of the Crown and he is quietly dismantling the entire system of land grants!  A little bit from me, a little bit from Cahuenga, a little from Estevez...he's going to own the whole basin while we are....playing our guitars and serenading one another!"

"I am sure he has made every purchase legally and openly," Diego said.  "He has simply done it with such quiet assurance that no one saw what he was doing."  He looked down at the map and chuckled again.  "I suspect he has had fun with this."

"Well the jig is up!" Alejandro stated, reaching over and rolling up the map.  "I am going to visit him and confront him with this."

Diego took his father gently by the arm.  "Confront him with what?" he asked.  "He has done nothing wrong.  There are no laws to prevent a man from expanding his holdings in any direction he wants, as long as it is done within the law."

"All the dons have had a right to know about this, and he hasn't told us!"  He looked at Diego's hand on his arm with annoyance.  

"That isn't his way, Father," Diego said, letting go.  He reached across the desk and took a cigar from his father's cigar box.

"Must you do that now?" Alejandro barked.

Diego smelled it, and then tucked it into his pocket.  "No," he said.  "I'll do it later."

"Diego, do you not understand how much this changes the balance of power in the community?" his father asked, waving the rolled map at his son.

"Well, I see that it changes how much power you and some of the others have.  He is an important voice here now, and clearly he has consolidated his situation to assure that influence for the future."  Diego leaned against the desk.  "Father, he is a good and wise voice in the community.  I'm afraid I don't understand what there is to be upset about."

"It's intrusive!  It's impolite!  He should have told us what he was doing! I wonder how long he would have continued with this if I hadn't discovered it!"

"I daresay he will continue indefinitely, if I know my father-in-law," Diego said.  He had come to gain a great respect, as well as develop a deep fondness, for Carlos since he and Elizabeth returned from Monterey.  He and Elizabeth had spent many winter evenings at Casa Matteo, listening to her father's stories and laughing over his observations from the pueblo.  Diego had finally learned where Elizabeth got her exceptional gift for mimicry, for Carlos could imitate virtually anyone he met with dead-on accuracy and often hilarious result.  And while Diego would never say it to his father, he found Carlos easy to be around, thanks to his winning charm and quick, reliable sense of humor.  Diego loved his father dearly but as he grew older, Alejandro's ever-excitable personality was provoked more and more readily.  It made for exhausting encounters such as this one. Somehow, in getting married, Diego had not foreseen that he might like his wife's family as much as he liked his own.  He was thus unprepared to balance the two, but did the best he could.  

"Father, if you want to go talk with him about it, go.  Talk.  He is always glad to see you coming up the road."

"He is always glad to see his prey marching towards the spiderweb!" Alejandro fumed.

Diego laughed.  "This entire family has benefited immeasurably from that old spider," he pointed out.  "Without Carlos and his big ideas, I probably would not be married and we would certainly not be joyfully awaiting a new generation of de la Vegas!"

This vexed Alejandro even more. He knew that the match between Elizabeth and Diego had happened in large measure because Carlos Matteo applied such persistence to the idea, and offered dowry so generous that no don in his right mind could refuse it.  Were Elizabeth and Diego not so deeply smitten with one another, it could easily be said that Carlos had very simply bought the union in a move to consolidate two important Los Angeles families and their wealth.  In fact, that was what was said in the circles which still held on to the rumor about Elizabeth and El Zorro.

"Well I am going over to see him and have this out," Alejandro said, sticking the map under his arm.  

Diego waved at the outdoors. "It is a fine day for a ride," he said.  

"Don't you even care about this?" Alejandro asked.  "What on earth can you be doing with her that is more important?"

"We were discussing what to name this baby," Diego explained.

"Oh?" Alejandro perked up.  "And what names are you thinking about?"

"We cannot decide anything," Diego said.  "We have talked about our mothers' names, but somehow we do not think this child is a little Matilde or a little Catherine.  We have talked about our fathers' names, but Elizabeth insists it is not a boy." He shrugged.  "There is nothing I can say right, so I let her do all the talking."

"That is wise," Alejandro said. Then he leaned towards Diego. "If it is a boy, which of his grandfathers do you believe he will be named after?"

"Truly, Father, she simply will not have the conversation."

"Well, at least his last name will be de la Vega, whatever his first name is!" Alejandro said.  And with that, he headed out the library door and towards the stable.  "Saddle my horse!" he snarled at Bernardo.

***

Standing under a live oak tree at a crossroad, Carlos Matteo was doing what he did best, which was talk.

"I do not want your money, seņor, I only want your horse," the gypsy was saying to Carlos.  He was, unfortunately, holding an extremely sharp knife at Matteo's neck.

"But I have no money to give you," Matteo said again.  "And my horse, this is my favorite horse.  Surely you can understand why I do not want to give him up!  He isn't a very good horse, you see.  He has a rather strange gate, but I am used to him and we are...I hope you know horses well enough to understand this, senior, but this horse and I are friends.  And he was a gift from my son-in-law!"

"Look, my horse is lame," the gypsy said, nodding at the mare he had ridden out of the pueblo an hour earlier.  "I must get up into the hills quickly. My father is coming and I must show him the way to Los Angeles. I'll bring your horse back to you."

"Young man, I hardly think I can believe that!" Matteo said, at some risk to his neck.

"My father is King of the Gypsies," the man said, "and as son of the King of the Gypsies, I swear to you that I will return this horse!"  With that he shoved Carlos to the ground, ran to his horse, and jumped on.  Then gouging his heels into the horse's side, he roared away, leaving Carlos coughing in the dust, the lame mare standing nearby.

"Oh, hell!"  Matteo exclaimed, pulling himself to his feet.  He was wearing a good suit which would now require cleaning, and he was four miles from home with a lame horse.  The animal that had just been stolen was a young black, white-socked gelding Diego had given him with a wink just before he and Elizabeth left for Monterey.  At first, Carlos had wondered why Diego had hinted at something special.  However, by the third ride on the horse, which he named Sirocco, he discovered that in fact this horse was bred to offer a smooth trot and a canter that one could nearly rock to sleep in.  Diego had laughed when Carlos remarked on the "dream horse" he had been given.  

"That is what I had in mind when I bred his sire to his dam," Diego had said.

Now Sirocco was carrying the gypsy into the hills, and Carlos was stuck.  He cursed again, and then went over to the lame horse.  It was a sad-eyed bay mare who looked as if she had good breeding but had been rather poorly treated.  She looked at him in so forlorn a manner that he patted her nose and said, "Don't worry, old girl, I won't make you carry me."   He looked down the road, and led the horse into the shade.  It was hot.

Several miles to the east, Alejandro de la Vega was cantering towards Casa Matteo, his map shoved under the saddle, still fuming over Matteo's latest gambit. He could not wholly begrudge Diego his reluctance to be pulled into the problem -- Carlos was, after all, Diego's father-in-law -- but what the diplomat had done was so highly out of order, so completely contrary to the ways of Spanish California, that Alejandro was having great difficulty calming himself down.  He detested anything that threw the social order out of its known boundaries.  Carlos seemed to delight in doing exactly that, though he did it with such elegance that often people did not know what he was up to until it was too late.  

It was how he had acquired Casa Matteo -- relieving a recently widowed doņa of her house full of painful memories.  It was, in a way, how he had secured a marriage between the Matteos and the de la Vegas. Elizabeth's beauty was a huge asset to be sure, but it was the dowry that was impossible to decline.   It was how, while Diego and Elizabeth were in Monterey, Carlos had established himself as the dons' recorder.  He charmed his way into Sergeant Garcia's good graces, plying him with drink, and finding out how voting generally went at the annual gathering to re-elect the recorder among the town leaders.  He then threw an elaborate series of small dinner parties, thus winning over a majority of the dons who then opted to vote for Carlos rather than re-electing Miguel Cahuenga, who had held the job for many years. He imported grapevines from the north and from Spain, and was starting a vineyard.  This was something Alejandro had dreamed of doing for years but simply had not gotten around to.  Worse, he had sold a parcel of land he always believed was his best for such growing, and worse still, he had sold it to Carlos when his friend had made a good offer for "such a few little acres on a tired, dusty hill" back in October.  Now, vines were planted on that same tired, dusty hill, and they were thriving.  

By the time Alejandro reached the live oak crossroad, he was in quite a state, having catalogued all the reasons why he was about to put Matteo in his place.  He was therefore quite unprepared to find Carlos sitting under the tree on a rock, fanning himself with his shoe, and talking to a horse Alejandro had never seen before.   

"What on earth!" Alejandro exclaimed.

"Ah, Alejandro, you have come at the perfect moment!" Carlos said, getting up.  "I was just telling my new friend here that I hoped someone would come along before the heat did us both in."

"It is quite hot," Alejandro agreed, coming into the shade and dismounting.  "What is this horse you have?  Where is Sirocco?"

"Poor Sirocco is busy carrying a gypsy up into the hills," Carlos sighed.  "A son of the king of the gypsies, if he is to be believed!"  He shook his head.  "I have been left with ..." he indicated the sorry bay mare.  "She is quite lame.  I dare not mount her or I fear I will break her leg."

Alejandro raised an eyebrow.  "We are still miles from your house!" he observed.

"Si," Matteo nodded.  "I was on my way to visit Elizabeth.  How is she?"

Alejandro smiled.  On Elizabeth, they could agree.  "She is very well," he said.  "In fact I have just seen her this morning and she looked particularly radiant just a little while ago, as I was leaving the hacienda."

"Radiant, eh?" Matteo said.  "You know, Alejandro, I had worries about that boy but she seems to be bringing out the best in him, as I believed she would."

"He is a man, Carlos!" Alejandro cried.  "He is 26 and about to become a father!  Why can you not accept that?"

"Oh, calm yourself, I know what Diego is."

"I am sure you do not!" Alejandro huffed. Carlos was not privy to the secret of Zorro, which alternately delighted Alejandro and sorely tempted him to tell.  Despite the temptation, he had never slipped.

"Well, are you going to give me a ride home or not?" Matteo asked.

"A ride...?" Alejandro said.  He looked at the mare.  "I suppose I shall have to, either that or go back and get you another horse."

Carlos shrugged.  "We are closer to Rancho de la Vega, it is up to you."

"I suppose my horse could get us back to my rancho, and you can visit with your daughter for a while, and then we can loan you a horse to get you back home.  I think Diego will be very concerned about Sirocco."

"I am concerned about Sirocco," Matteo said.  "And I would like to see my daughter."

Alejandro remounted his horse.  "Well then, get on," he said. 

Carlos put his shoe back on and walked up to the horse.  "What is this?" he asked, seeing the rolled up map jammed into the saddle.

"This is what we will talk about while we are riding!" Alejandro said.

"I suppose you will have a captive audience," Matteo replied, climbing up behind Alejandro on his sturdy chestnut mare.  He looked over at the bay.  "Come with us if you wish, old girl.  I think there will be a good home awaiting you, if you come to Rancho de la Vega."

Alejandro kicked his horse. To the men's amazement, the bay mare limped along behind them, following all the way to Alejandro's hacienda.  "She listens well," was Carlos's conclusion. 

Chapter Two
Missing: One Man, One Boy, One Horse

By the time Alejandro and Carlos arrived at Rancho de la Vega, their conversation had worn itself out.  After his initial and righteous pontification, Alejandro had nowhere to go given the exactness by which Carlos had followed the letter of the law in all of his land purchases.  Matteo had then cheerfully shut down the debate by reassuring his friend that he was finished with his buying spree and wanted only to concentrate on the vineyards now, and "perhaps, eventually, buy a few head of cattle for some hides."

They entered the courtyard to find Diego and Elizabeth finishing their lunch.  Elizabeth got up and rushed to her father for a hug the instant she saw him.

"Daddy," she said, burying her face in his lapel.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said.  "Look at you!  I stay away for a few days and you have doubled the size of my grandchild!"

"I know, I am so fat," she sighed. 

"You are nothing but beautiful," he told her, kissing her forehead.  He patted her back and let go of her, leading her back to the table where Diego and now Alejandro sat.  "Sit back down, eat a little more," he said to her.

She sat with them, but was finished with eating.  "I will need to go for siesta soon," she said. She suddenly looked pale and wilted, making Diego wonder anew if she were all right.  Then she settled in her seat and her color returned.    

"Have you two worked things out?" he asked his father.

Alejandro rolled his eyes.

"Yes, of course!" Matteo replied.  "But Diego, a very bad thing has happened.  Sirocco has been stolen."

"Stolen!" Diego and Elizabeth exclaimed together.

"Si, a gypsy fellow took him at the crossroad near the big live oak a few miles back."

"A gypsy?" Diego said.  "There were gypsies in town this morning.  I saw a fellow take off on a bay mare after having a fight with...well, she said she was his sister.  I'm not so sure she was being truthful. The fight they were having did not sound to me like siblings."

"I think that was the man.  He left me with the mare.  She's in your stable, very lame."  He sighed.  "Poor Sirocco.  I fear for him, with that rider."

This news upset Diego greatly.   Sirocco was the first son of Tornado. He had secretly bred his horse to a favorite riding mare four winters ago, and he had put a great deal of love into breaking the colt.  It grieved him to think the horse was now in bad hands.  It had given him enormous pleasure to present Sirocco to Carlos --  a more potent and symbolic thank you for the hand of Elizabeth than even his father-in-law realized.  

"We shall have to find him," Diego said, standing up and visibly agitated.  "I knew those gypsies would be trouble."

"He said he would return him," Carlos said.  "Though I have my doubts about such a promise."

"And we don't know what condition he will be returned in, if he is returned!" Diego exclaimed.  

"Well, I see it is possible to get you as riled as me," Alejandro observed.  

Elizabeth took her husband's hand.  "There's nothing we can do at the moment, darling.  We don't even know where he has gone."

"Up into the hills," Carlos said.  "Something about the king of the gypsies."  
    
"The king of the...?" Diego said.  He looked at Elizabeth, who read his alarm.

"What?" she asked.

He shook his head.  "Elizabeth, let me see you upstairs for your siesta.  Then I believe I will need to return to town to speak again with Sergeant Garcia."

"What is it, Diego?" his father asked.

"If it really is the king of the gypsies, we are headed for a very wild ride here in Los Angeles," Diego said.

*****

Diego de la Vega had a more detailed knowledge of the gypsy world than anyone in the room, even his father, knew.  As a student in Spain, he had befriended a gypsy girl soon after his first initiation in matters of physical love.  While she was not his first, and certainly not his last, before Elizabeth Matteo tumbled before him on the de la Vega road, the gypsy had made a lasting impression. It was with, and from, her that he had learned many of the ways of love that he and Elizabeth so deeply enjoyed.  For that alone, Diego was ever grateful Hermoine had come into his life years before. He knew he would be much less of a lover had it not been for his tumultuous months with her.

Hermoine, as it turned out, was from an important family among Spanish gypsies.  Diego learned a great deal about the inner workings of the roving, mysterious Romany people from her, including the rumors and talk of the Gypsy King.  Diego had concluded that while this king was real enough, he was often evoked as a symbol of authority and threat whether he was actually in the vicinity or not.  

That the true King of the Gypsies was in Spanish California, thousands of miles from the heart of the lands they roamed, seemed preposterous to Diego.  But the idea of a king, and the prospect of an impostor who would exert this role in the new world, was worthy of great concern.  

Helping Elizabeth undress and lie down for her afternoon siesta, Diego explained all of this, though he carefully left out details about the nature of his relationship with Hermoine.  He simply referred to someone he had befriended in Spain who was connected to the gypsy world and had taught him a great deal.  Elizabeth had raised her eyebrow with this mention, but had not pursued it.  After the miserable episodes with Marta Verdugo, she had chosen to make peace with Diego's past romances and was content in her knowledge, as she once said to him, that "they might have had you for a little while, but I get you for the rest of your life."

"Are you going after Sirocco?" Elizabeth asked.

"Not yet," Diego said, "though I am tempted.  They had other good horses, so I daresay they may know how to take care of him.  I doubt, however, that they will want to part with him once they have ridden him.  So I may need to relieve them of him eventually."

"At least you gelded him.  They won't be able to keep him for breeding."

"Si," Diego said. "I will speak to Sergeant Garcia about this, and then take Bernardo with me up into the hills to see if we can discover what is going on, and where their camp is."

"Is this a job for Zorro?"

"No. Not if this is merely about a horse."

"Diego, don't be gone for long," she said.  

He came over and sat beside her where she lay on the bed.  "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I just don't want you to be far away."

"I will stay near," he said to her, kissing her cheek.  "Besides, your time is still a month away.  We will have Sirocco safe in your father's stable long before our baby comes."  With that he kissed her forehead.  "Sleep, sweetheart."

She nodded and closed her eyes.  He waited for several minutes until she was asleep, stroking her hair gently. Her beauty was never lost on him, but seeing her in this mixed state of ripeness and exhaustion reduced him to helpless gratitude and uncharacteristic worry. Though he often tried to reassure her otherwise, they both knew she would have to go through what lay ahead alone. However close by he was, their baby would make its way into the world because of Elizabeth's work, not his. As he watched her sleep, he wanted only to make everything all right.  It shook him deeply that in the end he had no control over any of it, he could only trust God and the universe that she would come through it safely and that the child, the sweet precious not-so-little baby inside her, would arrive in the light healthy and strong.  

At moments like this, he almost regretted how quickly his beloved had become pregnant after their intimacies began.  It seemed so soon in their lives to be faced with this amount of risk and responsibility.  Yet when he thought back to that day in September, he could not imagine doing what it would have taken to prevent the pregnancy. Pouring himself  into her over and over had been part of the magic of the 24 hours they had spent together at the mountain cabin. They could not have restrained themselves or let his seed spill anywhere except deeply into her.  This baby was the symbol of deeply-held hopes fulfilled, for both of them.  Now, eight months later, their dreams revolved around hope once again.  

It was with these thoughts that he made himself leave the room,  summoning Bernardo to saddle the horses. 


*****

High in the hills near Ojai, another gypsy wagon rattled along the rutted trail.  An older man sat on the bench in the front, guiding the two horses who pulled it.  He spied something move on the trail ahead of him, and pulled the wagon to a halt.    

"What is it?" another man's voice came from inside the wagon.

"We are not alone," the driver answered.  He watched the bushes behind a rock where he had seen something dart, and saw the branches shake.

The second man emerged from the wagon.  He had uncut black hair a handsome face, and a look of mean determination.  "Where?" he asked.

The driver pointed.  

"Stay here," the man said.  Grabbing his knife, he silently slipped out of the back of the wagon and climbed up into the rocks above the road, coming quietly down the hill towards the place where the bushes had shaken from behind.  Suddenly there was a yelp and he yanked a young Indian boy from the bushes into the road.  

"What is this?" he asked, looking down at the child.  He was around six, and battling furiously but without success at the grip he was in.  "What is your name?"

The boy punched at him but missed his mark.

"Bring me some rope and a gag," the gypsy told his companion in the wagon.  The old man reached into the wagon and then stepped down, bringing the items.

The gypsy tied the boy's hands and gagged him, and then picked him up still kicking and carried him to the back of the wagon.  There, he paused long enough to tied the child's feet as well.  Then he shoved him into the wagon, and gestured for his driver to return to his seat.  He climbed up and sat down beside him.

"What do you want with an Indian boy?" the driver asked.  

The gypsy shrugged.  "He might come in handy," he answered.  With that he nodded at the road, and the driver gave the horses the signal to resume their walk.

*****

"I understand that, Sergeant, but you must understand this: that horse is valuable and does not deserve a fate in the hands of these gypsies!"

"Oh," the Sergeant sighed, wiping his dripping brow with his already-drenched handkerchief, "I understand, Don Diego, but until Corporal Reyes returns I am bound to stay here in the cuartel to keep the peace in the pueblo."

Diego looked over at Bernardo in extreme exasperation, and then back at the Sergeant where he sat at his desk.  He leaned over across the desk.  "It is hard to disturb the peace when it is this hot, don't you agree?" he asked.  "And think about this, my good Sergeant.  A beautiful lake in the hills.  Shade.  Cool water.  That is what is in the hills, where they have taken my father-in-law's horse."

Garcia raised his eyes into the imagined distance, seeing the rippling water and the shade trees.  "Oh, si, Don Diego, it is a beautiful vision," he sighed.

"Then why not take a few lancers and go after him?" Diego said persuasively.  

Garcia stayed with his vision a moment longer and then looked back at Diego.  "Because it is a lot of work to get up into the hills, and it is a horse!"

"Horse thieves are to be condoned in Los Angeles, now?" Diego asked sharply.

"Of course not, Don Diego, but didn't you say the gypsy told Don Carlos he would bring the horse back?"  He started fanning himself with the latest directive from Monterey, an already-unreadable piece of paper covered with smeared ink thanks to the sweat it had encountered in its new incarnation as a fan.

Diego cursed to himself for having let the gypsy's feigned promise slip.  He could see he was not going to achieve the results he had hoped for with this journey into town.  "All right, Sergeant, I see that you are not going to follow up on this matter."

"All I am saying is that it may need some more time, Don Diego," the Sergeant said patiently. "Corporal Reyes is due back from San Pedro by this evening and we will see if the horse has turned up by then.  If not, I will send some lancers out at sunset. A search will be much easier on everyone by then."

"The horse could be dead by then!" Diego exclaimed.

The Sergeant was taken aback, this testiness was so uncharacteristic of his friend.  "It is a horse, Don Diego, not a person," he said, mystified.

"It is a special horse!" Diego shouted.  With that he looked at Bernardo, jerked his head towards the door, and left without so much as a departure nod at Garcia.

Bernardo followed Diego, and looked up at him with worry.  Diego didn't even look at him as they strode towards their horses.  "It is a wonder Los Angeles manages to function at all with such leadership!  If one can call it that!" Diego fumed. "Why won't they send a real commandante to Los Angeles?  Why are we ever cursed with someone who is so indolent that he cannot see the needs of a citizen and do something about it!" 

Bernardo took his arm and stopped him.  Diego looked down at him.  "What?!" he snapped.

Bernardo pointed back at the Sergeant's door, and then pointed at Diego's heart.  

Diego frowned, and then said, "If he is my friend, he isn't much of one right now!"

Bernardo took his arm again, and looked into his master's face.  He pointed at Diego, gave a worried look, and then gestured rocking a baby in his arms.  Then he pointed at Garcia's office door again, and punched his fist into his palm.

"Oh, I see," Diego said testily.  "You think I am taking my worry about Elizabeth and the baby out on the Sergeant."

Bernardo nodded.  

"But it is Sirocco I am worried about!" he insisted.  Bernardo crossed his arms indignantly.  Diego took a deep breath, absorbing this communication.  Then he lowered his head.  "I suppose you are right," he said softly.  "I am out of my mind with worry about her.  She doesn't look right, she is tired all the time...there is nothing I can do for her.  This waiting is horrible."

Bernardo patted his arm, and nudged him to the horses.  Diego stood beside Apache for a moment, and then said, "I feel I owe the Sergeant an apology.  He is right not to be chasing into the hills for one horse, however fine the horse might be."

Bernardo pointed at Garcia's door, and then at the Tavern.

"Oh, that is a good idea," Diego said.  "He would like that more than an apology, eh?"

Bernardo smiled, nodding.

"I'll tell you what, my friend," Diego said.  "You go back to the hacienda, and keep an eye on my Seņora, and come right back to get me if she is in the least bit unwell.  I shall go and help ease the Sergeant's misery a little.  I owe him that much for putting up with my rudeness."

Bernardo nodded again, and patted Diego's arm.

"I know, I know, it will be all right," Diego said.  "But I will be so glad when this waiting is over. Waiting is not...my strong suit."

Bernardo nodded in agreement, and with a smile he mounted his horse, waved, and headed off in the direction of the rancho.   Diego headed back across the plaza, and noted as he approached the Sergeant's office that the gypsy wagons that had earlier been parked there were gone.

*****

At the de la Vega rancho, Alejandro was observing Carlos's choice of a new mount.  They were at the paddock beside the stables, and Carlos was eyeing the paint gelding Diego had acquired in Monterey. A vaquero stood by to help catch whichever horse he chose.

"You cannot have Padre," Alejandro said, "that is Diego's spare mount."

"He has Apache, what does he need with this paint?" Carlos asked.  Then he looked beyond the paint.  "I suppose I could try Blanca..."

"That is Elizabeth's horse, and she is not fully broken!" Alejandro said.  

"I can help with that," Carlos said.

"Carlos, I think that if I offer you a finger you will take my whole arm!" Alejandro cried.

Carlos laughed.  "And I keep believing that one day you will not take everything so seriously, Alejandro.  Diego must have gotten his even temper from his mother."

"His even temper!" Alejandro exclaimed.  

"And his good looks, too," Carlos laughed.

Alejandro shook his head, also smiling. "Diego is greatly blessed in having his mother's looks," he said. 

"And we can hope his son will have his mother's looks!" Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, whatever sex this baby proves to be, I cannot imagine we will be disappointed with his or her looks," Alejandro said, managing not to take the latest bait. "Now, if you really must borrow Padre I can have him saddled, but I am sure Diego will want him back sooner than if you take one of the other horses."

"Padre will be fine," Carlos said. "Surely we will have Sirocco back soon, and no worse for the wear."

Alejandro indicated for the vaquero to bring Padre out of the paddock and saddle him.  "Carlos," he said, as they watched the horse being readied for riding, "do you want me to send for you, when Elizabeth's time comes?"

 "But she may not want yet another man hovering around, Alejandro," Matteo answered.  "Surely you remember Diego's birth."

"I remember it well. It nearly killed Matilde."  He shook his head.  "I was lucky to have her for eleven more years, after that." 

"Catherine delivered Elizabeth without any problems," Matteo said, "but it was torturous for her none-the-less. I was of no help whatsoever and she cursed me repeatedly through the whole thing. At that point, we are easy targets." He shook his head, smiling. "Labor and delivery are not places where men belong, to my way of thinking.  We just get in the way."  He went over and patted Padre's nose as the saddling was finished.  "Send for me if she asks for me.  Otherwise, let me know when the baby has arrived, and I will be here to visit in an instant."

Alejandro nodded, and smiled.  "We will have to share this grandchild, Carlos.  Do you think we can manage that?"

"We shall have to!" Carlos laughed, mounting the horse.  "Thank you for the loan, my friend.  I will return him as soon as Sirocco is back where he belongs."

Alejandro nodded, and waved as Carlos rode out.  Vexing as he was, it was good to have such a friend.

*****

Two hours later, Diego was still sitting in the Tavern entertaining Sergeant Garcia and tending to his fat friend's needs.  "Nothing quenches my thirst quite like a good glass of Madeira," the Sergeant confessed as yet another bottle was opened for them and once again Diego quietly nodded for it to be placed on his bill.  "And with such heat, it is very hard not to have a great thirst."

During the two hours, Diego had tried to find out where the gypsies had gone.  Garcia shrugged with every new question, saying, "I do not know, I only know that they left." To the east? To the west? "I do not know, Don Diego, I only know that they left."  When?  "I do not know.  Sometime between when you were here before and when you were here now."

His frustration mounting, Diego looked at his watch, to realize it was after 4:00 and Elizabeth was surely up and possibly back in her garden trying to do things she should not.  On the other hand, Bernardo would have come to get him if anything was amiss.  

"Are you late for something, Don Diego?" the Sergeant asked.

"No, I am just realizing that I should return to the hacienda," Diego said, getting up.  "Will you excuse me?" 

"I suppose," the Sergeant said.  "And Don Diego, your horse will turn up."

"I hope you are right, Sergeant."  With that he departed, leaving a generous tip on the bar, and went to Apache.  Just as he mounted, Bernardo rode up, leading Padre.  The horse was bridled and saddled, but riderless.

"What is this?" Diego asked, looking at Padre.

Bernardo pointed anxiously at the horse and then shrugged mysteriously.  Then he pointed at the road from where he had just some.

"You found him on the road?" Diego asked.  "But who was riding him?"

Bernardo made his sign for Carlos, a wave over his head to signify Carlos's fine head of white hair, and then a mouthing gesture, for talk.

"Carlos?" Diego said.

Bernardo nodded anxiously. 

"He must have borrowed him when he left the rancho," Diego said.

Bernardo nodded again.

"You looked around, you didn't see him anywhere?"

Bernardo nodded, and then shook his head.

"This is very disturbing," Diego said.  

Bernardo made the sign of the "Z" questioningly.

"Perhaps," Diego nodded.  "But show me where you found the horse, first."

They galloped, Padre in tow, to the place where Bernardo found Padre grazing by the side of the road.  They were less than 50 yards from a crossroad that angled east and north.  Diego dismounted and went to study the ground at the crossroad.  

"Two wagons passed by here, within a couple of hours," he said, looking north.  "I suspect it was those gypsies." He sighed.  "If my guess is correct, they have Don Carlos."  He studied the ground more.  "Si, these are Padre's shoe markings.  They must have forced Carlos off and into the wagon.  I imagine they tried to catch Padre but he got away.  It looks like someone fell down."  He shook his head, and looked up at his manservant where he sat on the horse.  "You know, Bernardo, I am beginning to understand where Seņora Elizabeth's ability to be struck by lightning more than once comes from."  He got back onto Apache.  "I want to make sure she is all right.  Let's return home, but saddle Tornado.  Then go back to the cuartel and tell our fat Sergeant that we are now missing more than a horse."

With that, they galloped for home.

*****

Many miles to the northeast, the two wagons travelling in one direction and the one travelling in the other -- now accompanied by the gypsy man on Sirocco, met.  They went off-road and into a canyon, where they made camp.    Carlos Matteo soon thereafter found himself thrown into a dark wagon, nearly falling on top of a boy who sat at the wagon's edge, bound and gagged.  

"Good Lord!" he cried, jumping back from the child.  "Who are you?"

The boy's brown eyes looked up at him in some disgust.

"Well, I guess you can't tell me until we get rid of this," Matteo said, untying the boy's gag.  "So, who are you?"  

The child said nothing, but yanked at the rope around his wrists.  Carlos unbound it.

"You needn't bother trying to get out," he told the child.  "They've got us covered."

The boy looked at him in the shadows.  "There is always a way out," he said.

Carlos looked around the wagon.  "I certainly don't see it," he said.  "And they have very sharp knives out there which I daresay they aren't afraid to use." He peered out a crack in the  wooden wall of the wagon.  "At least I found my horse."

The boy peered through the same crack.  "They are setting up their camp for the night," he said.

"So, you speak pretty good Spanish," Matteo remarked.  "What did you say your name was?"

The boy cocked his head disdainfully.  "I didn't say," he replied.

"And are you going to?  We might as well know one another, since we seem to be prisoners together."

"I am Little Feather, of the Ojai hills, son of Windhawk," the child said.

"And I," Carlos said, offering his hand, "am Don Carlos Matteo of the pueblo of Los Angeles, son of...well, who I am son of matters less than who I am father of at the moment, and that would be Elizabeth Matteo de la Vega."

"De la Vega?" the child said.

"Si, do you know the de la Vegas?" 

"My father knows Don Diego," the boy replied.

"I see.  Well, I hope I will soon know your father, too, Little Feather.  I would assume he will come looking for you?"

The boy shrugged.  "Perhaps in a few days."

"A few days," Carlos sighed.  He looked back out to see that the gypsies were making a fire and pulling out their musical instruments.  "Well, perhaps Diego will find us before your father does, what do you think?"  He sighed again.  "Actually, Diego is so distracted right now that he may not even notice I am gone."  He frowned.  "What about your mother?  Now, she might miss you soon."

Little Feather shrugged again.  "She sent me out to bring back a few squirrels."

"You eat squirrels?"

The boy nodded.  "And we use their furs."  He patted his head.

"Hats," Carlos nodded.

"Winter is cold in the hills sometimes," the boy said.  

The sound outside indicated that their kidnappers were creating quite a party for themselves.  Carlos, watching through the crack, saw a woman approaching the wagon.  He waved for Little Feather to sit back down and put his hands behind his back.

The gypsy woman's head popped into the wagon.  "You are still here, I see," she said, sizing up the two prisoners.  "Are you hungry?"

"May I ask why you are detaining us?" Carlos inquired. "I don't know why you have this Indian boy, but I was simply minding my own business riding home on my son-in-law's horse, having been robbed of my own horse by someone from your family, that horse being a gift from my son-in-law, when I was accosted..."

"Talk, talk, talk," she said.  "Come out of there and see us dance and let us feed you, seņor.  You too, boy."  She opened the doors of the wagon, allowing Carlos and Little Feather to step out.  Her "brother," the man who had stolen Sirocco, was watching this with a rifle in his hand.

"Don't try anything," he told Carlos, then looking at the boy.  Little Feather's eyes darted about but he did not try to bolt.

The woman led them to the campfire, and Carlos observed six other people involved in activities around the circle, including cooking, preparing musical instruments, and pouring water into a huge caldron.  Two women, five men, and one gypsy boy, he thought, wishing the odds were better.  The other woman, who was beside the fire preparing a slab of meat for cooking, looked up at him.  She was probably around his age, in her middle fifties, and she was remarkably beautiful.  She was decidedly too old to be the mother of the little boy in the camp.  He smiled at her, and she smiled back before returning to her work.  

"You like my mother," the younger woman said.  "Too bad my father is here too."

Carlos looked at her indignantly.  "I hardly imagine I would take advantage of her if he wasn't!" he exclaimed.  

"Honorable Spanish gentleman," she said.  "That is what they all say."

"We will not harm you, seņor," the older woman said suddenly.  "We are honorable, too.  My husband is king of the gypsies."

"King!" Carlos said.  "Why, I have just retired from working for a king. The king of Spain.  Do you think your king knows my king?"

The older woman gave him another long look, and smiled again.

The man who had stolen Sirocco from him pushed him, along with Little Feather, to a place near the fire where a rock was deeply imbedded in the dirt.  "Sit," he said.

"Is my horse all right?" Carlos asked.

"He has a nice gait," the swarthy man said.  "I think I shall keep him."

"But you said you would return him!" Carlos pointed out.

"I did not know how good a horse he was then," the man said, and turned to walk away.

"You are a liar!" the younger woman said, spitting at him.

He lifted his hand to strike her, but the older woman stood up between them and stared him down.  He disappeared into the shadows to sulk.

Then, out of the darkness, came a new man, the ninth person in the entourage. Little Feather recognized him as the man who had jumped him from behind earlier, but said nothing. The gypsy walked up to Carlos.  

"Seņor," he said.  "We are glad you are in our camp, and sorry for this inconvenience," he said. "We have need of your services, and this seemed the only way to assure that you would be among us."

"You must be the king of the gypsies," Carlos said.

The man smiled.  "I am called Ishtar."  He had gleaming teeth and eyes so dark they were nearly black.  He looked like he rose straight out of the oceans of the East Indies.  "Please," he waved his hand at the campfire.  "Join us for our meal, and we will entertain you."

"Do my young friend and I have a choice?" Carlos asked.

The man only laughed, and was then joined by the others in laughter.  Carlos joined in.  Only Little Feather was straight-faced and silent.  One of the gypsies picked up a guitar and began to play.  Carlos Matteo decided to sit down.  He knew he wasn't going anywhere.


*****

Diego entered their room to find Elizabeth still in bed at 5:00, a far later siesta than was normal.  He bent over her and touched her arm.  

"Sweetheart?" he said.

She started and half sat up, then lay back down again.  "What time is it?" she asked.  When he told her, she grimaced.  "I wanted to make sure some of the poppy seeds were planted this afternoon," she said.  "I'm putting them all around the eastern edge of the garden. They love the morning sun."

He lay down next to her, putting his arms around her.  "My mother would approve of your revival of her gardens, but I think the seed that has been planted inside you is taking over all your gardening time for the moment," he chuckled.

"You can barely get your arms around me now," she sighed, pressing her head against his shoulder.

"That is not true," he said, "I have very long arms and could still hold you if you were twice as big as you are right now."

"At the rate I am going, I will be.  Soon."

He kissed her cheek.  "I have to go away for a little while, darling," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her entire body stiffening.

"Please do not be alarmed, but El Zorro needs to find someone."

"Who?"

He held her head against his shoulder.  "Your father appears to have been taken into the custody of those gypsies I mentioned earlier."

"Daddy!" she cried, sitting up and looking at him. "How do you know?"

"I think he is all right, darling, but it will not do to leave him up in the hills with those people.  He borrowed Padre when he left this afternoon and Padre turned up without him a few hours later.  I checked the crossroad and it looked as if there were wagons and a little scuffle."

"A scuffle!?"

"Elizabeth, please, don't be upset, it isn't good for you," he said softly, sitting up with her.

"Don't be upset!" she cried.  "My father has been taken away and you're telling me not to be..." she stopped, feeling a sudden cramp and bending forward.  "Ow...." she said weakly.

"Honey?" he said to her, alarmed.  

"No, it's all right, its just one of those little ones," she said, getting her breath.  "Diego, please don't let anything happen to my father."

"That is why I want to go up into the hills and find him," he said.  He was quietly feeling her belly.

"You're playing doctor!" she said, pushing his hand away.

"I just want to see what position the baby is in," he said.

"Can you tell?" she asked.  

"Will you let me find out?" he asked.

She lay back down and submitted to his hands on her.  When he was finished he looked at her.  "Elizabeth, I think this baby is ready to come out," he told her gently.  Her eyes widened in alarm. "It could stay this way for two weeks, but...." he stopped.  The discovery was disturbing.  She was not at full term yet, but the child was clearly positioned for the birth canal.  He took her hand and put it on her belly.  "Feel that?" he asked.  "That's the baby's bottom, up here near your rib cage.  Her head is down here," he put his hand on Elizabeth's lower abdomen.

"But it's too soon," she said quietly, deep fear coming into her voice.

"Well, we don't know for certain when the baby was conceived," he said.  

"I do," Elizabeth said.  "Diego, I'm so afraid.  What if something goes wrong? What if she isn't all right"

He sighed.  She wasn't going to let him smooth this over with hopeful talk.  "Lie back down with me for a moment," he said, taking her back into his arms and leaning back into the bed.  "Come, little kitten, just put your head here on my shoulder...there..." he helped her snuggle against him, and then felt the heavy shiver run through her.  "Oh, sweetheart," he whispered.

"I don't want you to leave..." she said, trying not to start crying. "But I want you to find my father."

"Bernardo is going to get Sergeant Garcia in a little while," Diego said.  "Zorro can get up there quickly and size things up, and I imagine the lancers can perform a rescue if one is needed.  Our big fat sergeant can usually manage to do the right thing if you can just get him to the right place at the right time."

Elizabeth laughed in spite of her terror.  "Our big fat sergeant has most of his successes thanks to the advance work of El Zorro."

"Not always," he laughed with her, "but...often enough. I promise you I won't be gone long.  And you must promise me, if those cramps become consistent, in any way at all, you will summon the doctor right away.  Promise me that, darling."

"I promise," she said.  "But you'll be here, won't you?  When the time comes?"

"I'll be here," he whispered, his lips against her cheek.

Chapter Three
Trapped 


Misery prevailed in El Zorro's heart as he rode out of the cave, through the corral, and into the darkness.  Leaving his beloved alone, knowing their baby was poised to arrive, put him into a state of combined excitement, dread and guilt that made riding away nearly paralyzing.  It was true that the birth could still be a week or two away.  But the baby was going to deliver early, of that he had no doubt. He spurred Tornado's sides, asking for more speed from his horse.  He had to find Carlos and get back home. After that he had to hope that nothing further would require him to leave until well after Elizabeth delivered and little baby was wrapped in the blanket of love that her...or his...parents longed to shower.  

He rode up into the hills, following the road that had veered north from the point where Carlos was stopped and Padre abandoned.  He had dispatched Bernardo to the quartel well before leaving himself, after deciding to stay with Elizabeth for a while longer than he had originally planned.  She had not insisted, he had simply sensed that she needed him. He knew that she rested more deeply when he was with her.  He had managed to get her to go back to sleep for a while, teaching her a lullaby that he wanted to sing to the baby.  "You are singing it to her right now," Elizabeth had whispered, right before dozing off.

Run like the wind, my friend, he whispered to his horse, as Tornado took him up over the dry, craggy, dog-bone hills above the Great Valley.  As usual, the night air was cool and the dirt road was hard.  Despite his many worries, El Zorro was pulled into the moment as the great horse charged ahead.  It was likely that the gypsies had camped in a canyon off the main road.  He guessed that they would be perhaps ten or fifteen miles from where they had taken Carlos.  They would not have covered more ground than that in the several hours since the horse turned up riderless.

He decided to slow down as the ridgeline peaked, for he knew that a series of small canyons lay ahead off the road.  His plan was to surprise the little party and remove Carlos from the proceedings with as little drama as possible. If he could retrieve Sirocco as well, that would be a bonus.  He only hoped he could get Seņor Matteo to keep his mouth shut rather than try to arrange some departure agreement that gave him back his treasured horse.  Carlos was of the philosophy that anyone could be talked into anything if the right mix of persuasion and incentive were used.  It was an approach for which Zorro had no tolerance tonight.  Furthermore, it would only send the gypsies into gales of laughter.    

He slowed down, hearing music ahead.  That would fit.  The gypsies could be cunning thieves, but they were also peerless when it came to their song and dance.

*****

At Rancho de la Vega, all was quiet.  Elizabeth joined Alejandro for a late supper, explaining Diego's absence.  Carlos's disappearance upset Alejandro greatly, but Elizabeth reassured him that Bernardo was dispatching Sergeant Garcia to see to a rescue.  It was in the middle of this exchange that she had yet another cramp.  

"Elizabeth!" Alejandro cried.  "You're in pain!"

"It will pass," she said, getting her breath.  "They just come over me sometimes.  The doctor told me this might happen.  It isn't frequent, it doesn't feel like a contraction."

"Well I am calling the midwife anyway," Alejandro said, getting up and summoning Maria.  "We aren't going to take any chances."

"I don't need the midwife!" Elizabeth protested.  "I'm not in labor!"  

At this moment, Maria entered to say that Dona Corinna Cahuenga was here to pay a call on Seņora Elizabeth.  

"Send her in," Elizabeth said.

"Send her home," Alejandro said at the same time.

They looked at each other.

"I'm really all right, Father, and I can use a visit from another woman," Elizabeth said.  "I have been all alone out here for days."

"You can see her if you wish, but I am sending for the midwife," Alejandro insisted.  "I know Diego would want me to, if you are in pain."

"Diego knows about these cramps!" Elizabeth said.

"And if I know my son, he has told you to call the midwife about it," Alejandro stated flatly.

Elizabeth sighed, familiar with her father-in-law's stubbornness.  There was no point in arguing.  "Fine, then," she conceded.  "Now, can we invite Dona Corinna in?"

"Si, but you must stay here in the sala, and not go out strolling the way you do in the evening, Elizabeth.  It is not good for you."

"I need the air!" she protested, getting up slowly.  Alejandro was about to intercede when Dona Corinna entered, coming straight to Elizabeth where she stood.  She put her hand on Elizabeth's belly. 

"Look at this!" she cried with delight.  "How you have grown, Elizabeth!"

"Si, I am as big as a house now," Elizabeth laughed, welcoming the older woman and relieved to have someone besides Alejandro to talk with for the time being.  "Have you eaten, do you need anything Dona Corinna?"

The older woman waved her hand.  "Nothing, my dear, I just wanted to come and see how you are feeling.  Where is Diego?" she looked around.

"He is out on an errand," Elizabeth replied, "I am so glad you came!  Would you like to go out to the courtyard?"

"Elizabeth!" Alejandro protested.

"It's just the courtyard, Father," she said, walking towards the door, sliding her arm into Dona Corinna's.  "We'll stay near the house."  She looked at her friend as they went through the door.  "I think Alejandro is even more anxious about his grandchild than Diego," she said conspiratorially.

They sat down across from each other on chairs near the sala window.  

"Are you feeling all right, dear? Really?"  Dona Corinna asked.  "The first baby is always the hardest, because it is so impossible to know what to expect."

"I just wish everyone would stop fussing over me all the time," Elizabeth answered.  "I have some idea of what to expect, but one thing I didn't expect was all this...fussing."

"They are men, Elizabeth. They are completely lost with all of this.  It's something they cannot control, so they over-react to everything."

"Diego isn't lost with it," Elizabeth said.  "He...." then she stopped.  She could hardly report that she had seen him deliver a baby a few months earlier and was the one who, far better than the doctor, knew what was actually going on.  "He's just as worried as his father, but he shows it differently," she finished.

Dona Corinna took Elizabeth's hand.  "It will be all right, you know.  We have all been through it.  You'll forget everything the minute that baby is laid in your arms."

Elizabeth smiled gratefully.  "It helps to talk with someone who has been through it."

"Three times!" Corinna laughed.  "And look at me!  Healthy as a good horse!"

This did not exactly reassure Elizabeth, for Dona Corinna was a good fifty pounds overweight and had a famous double chin.  Everyone in the pueblo adored her and Don Miguel, but they were also the subject of numerous jokes about who and how the pants in the family were worn.

"What should I know?" Elizabeth asked.  "The midwife isn't telling me what to expect.  She just comes and checks me and leaves."

"As a comforter, Rosita is not much," Corinna snorted, "but she has delivered nearly all the babies that have been born in the pueblo for the last ten years.  She does a good job, when it comes to it. You will be in good hands with her.  The thing to remember is to listen to her about when to push and when not to."

"When to push and when not to," Elizabeth repeated weakly.

"Elizabeth, you are in good health, you are strong, you will be fine, and so will your baby," Corinna said reassuringly.  

"I wish Diego would come home," Elizabeth said, in spite of herself.

That made Dona Corinna think of something she suspected no one may have mentioned.  "And Elizabeth," the matron said.

"What?"

"The closer you get to the baby's birth, the more chance there is that you will bring on labor if you and Diego..." her voice trailed off.  Her eyes dropped vaguely.  Then she smiled.  "I don't know why, but that is often what happens."

"No one told me that," Elizabeth said, again weakly.  She was thinking about their morning under the live oaks.   

Dona Corinna patted her hand.  "But everything will work out fine, my dear.  Diego will be very patient with you, he is a good man.  You need not worry."

"I thought he would be back by now," Elizabeth said mournfully.  "Let's walk over to the stable..." then she stopped herself again.  Apache was in his stall.  It was Tornado who was off in the hills bearing El Zorro.  If they went to the stable, Corinna would see Apache and explanations would have to be made.  "Oh, my head is muddled," Elizabeth said suddenly.  "Let's just stay here."

Alejandro emerged from the house and walked over to them.  "I have sent Benito out to find Rosita," he told Elizabeth.  "Are you still feeling pain?"

"Pain?" Corinna asked.

"No, Father, I have told you I am fine."  She looked at Corinna.  "I am fine.  I think I just need to retire. Thank you for coming, I'm sorry to spend so little time with you but I do tire very quickly."

"Believe me, I understand," Corinna said, standing up.  "Alejandro, don't have a stroke about this, and don't give one to poor Elizabeth, either."  She helped Elizabeth rise.  "Sleep all you can, my dear.  You are going to need it after the baby is born!"

Elizabeth smiled, not knowing what else to do.  She suddenly wanted to see Diego's figure appearing in the doorway more than life itself.  With more apologies, she excused herself and went to the stairs, climbed them slowly.  Once she was behind the closed door in their room, she took off her dress, put on her gown, and crawled, her back aching, into bed.

"The first one is always the hardest," Corinna remarked to Alejandro, as he walked her towards her carriage.

"Si," Alejandro said.  "I think I am more anxious about this one than I was about Diego when we were waiting for him!"  He shook his head.  "I hope that midwife gets here quickly."

"She isn't going to give birth tonight, Alejandro," Corinna said, climbing laboriously into her carriage.  He gave her a push that almost amounted to a shove, resulting in an exchange of looks that both of them then ignored.

"You don't know that," he said to her.

"Si, I know that," she said.  "Women know.  It will be a while longer.  She doesn't have the look yet."

"What look?  I don't remember Matilde getting a particular look before she delivered Diego."

"There's a look," Corinna said mysteriously.  "And Elizabeth doesn't have it yet.  Good night, my friend." She nodded at her manservant who was driving.

"Give my regards to Miguel," Alejandro called after her.

"Si, si," she answered as the carriage rolled away.


*****

Far away in the hills, a drama was unfolding.

El Zorro approached the gypsy camp with his usual stealth, leaving Tornado at the entrance of the canyon and working his way up among the boulders overlooking the gypsy camp.  There he could see down into the little circle, where he spied Carlos sitting on a log beside a young boy Zorro did not recognize.  The gypsies -- there seemed to be three men, two women and a child,  were having a very fine party, eating goulash from a cauldron over the fire, playing violins, guitars and a drum of some kind, and taking turns dancing in front of the fire. One of the men was older, and therefore not much of a threat.  El Zorro determined that this was not retrieving Don Carlos was not going to be an excessively hard task.  He wondered where the horses were.

Making his way back down the canyon's edge, he circled to the other side of the entrance where Tornado stood, and picked his way among more boulders until he found a small, hidden area where the wagon animals and several very fine horses, including Sirocco, were hobbled.  Zorro went to Sirocco and checked his legs and teeth, to find that the horse was unharmed.  He patted his nose and then pulled his knife.  Reaching down, he cut Sirocco's hobble, and did the same for the others.  He regretted this almost immediately, for one of the other animals, a dappled gelding, snorted and then kicked up his heels and bounded past Zorro and straight into the midst of the party.  The other horses followed, including Sirocco.

Zorro followed them, aggravated but realizing the disturbance might be just as well.  He watched as the little party scattered, the men and the younger of the two women trying to catch the horses.  Everyone was going in different directions, including the young boy who had been sitting by Carlos.  Zorro watched him leap up and race like the wind into the darkness, directly towards the entrance of the canyon and freedom.  

"Zorro!" Carlos exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"Follow me, Seņor," El Zorro said, waving Carlos in his direction.  

Carlos started towards him, but suddenly a man -- one that El Zorro had not seen before, bounded into view.  He had a long sword in his hand, and Zorro saw instantly that he knew how to use it.  "Get out of the way!" Zorro cried to Carlos, drawing his sword.  

The duel began instantly and violently.  The gypsy was aggressive and slashed a hole in El Zorro's cape before the masked man could swing it over his arm.  Their weapons clashed again and again, each man lunging, parrying, whisking his sword through the air in an effort literally to behead the other.  Zorro advanced, the gypsy defended himself and regained his ground.  Zorro realized quickly that this foe was the most skilled he had faced since Monastario.  And this man was not bound to any of the rules Monastario played by.

The duel continued, until the gypsy stumbled backwards over a stone, giving El Zorro the break he needed. Turning and shoving Carlos, he led in a race toward the entrance to the canyon.  Because of the chaos around catching the horses, the other gypsies were of no help to their compatriot.  Zorro whistled for his horse, knowing that with Tornado's speed they could get away before any of the others could follow.  

Nothing happened.  He stopped, whistling again.  He and Carlos stood at the canyon entrance.  Zorro whistled once more, but no whinny of greeting nor pounding of hooves answered him.  Tornado had vanished.

He felt a sword point at his back, and looked over to see one of the gypsies behind Carlos as well, holding a knife to his neck.

"You are a capable swordsman, seņor," came a voice from behind him.  He turned partway to see the gypsy he had been dueling with standing behind him, holding the sword to his back.  "My name is Ishtar," the man said.  "You must be El Zorro."   

*****

Elizabeth awoke in a cold sweat alone and in darkness.  Diego wasn't home.  She had no idea what time it was.  Where was he?  Why hadn't he returned?  Where was her father?  She gulped.  The baby was shifting around inside her, kicking its feet against her ribs and kidneys.  She sat up, putting her hand on her stomach as if it could somehow calm the little life she carried inside.  She felt awful, but she wasn't in pain.  Please be still, she thought.  Please just be still and let me think, stop being in charge of me all the time, little baby.

She reached across to Diego's side of the bed and fear overwhelmed her.  Something had to be wrong.  Something had gone wrong when he went up to find her father.  Oh, why did I want you to continue as El Zorro?  she asked herself.    

She got up and pulled her robe on.  Lighting a candle, she opened the secret doorway and went into Zorro's secret passageway.  His clothes were still gone.  She made her way down the stairs and into the dark tunnel under the stable, leading to Tornado's cave.  There she looked about.  The horse was not there.  She ventured out into the corral.  It was empty.  She looked up at the stars, which were just barely weakening as the first hints of dawn poked at the sky.  "Diego," she said to the sky, "where are you?"

*****
In yet another part of Los Angeles, Sergeant Garcia was stirring in his bed, forcing himself to get up and get ready to take the lancers out on patrol.  He had gotten to bed late after a rousing night in the Tavern, having ignored the incomprehensible signs of Don Diego's manservant .  However, at this hour before sunrise he was feeling he should have perhaps listened to the Little One.  With Corporal Reyes's help he had managed to ascertain that something urgent was going on which involved Don Carlos and a horse and those gypsies.  But Sergeant Garcia did not want to go out into the darkness chasing gypsies after suppertime.  He therefore dismissed Bernardo with the promise that he would see to whatever the problem was in the morning.

Bernardo, having been denied, went back to Rancho de la Vega and tried to explain to Don Alejandro what was going on.  Although he did not read Bernardo's signs as well as Diego, Alejandro realized that without the Sergeant's help, Zorro might find himself in a worse plight than anticipated.  He therefore dispatched Bernardo to see if he could track his master down, promising that he would follow in the morning if Diego did not reappear.  Bernardo rode up into the hills in the darkness, and it was there that  he saw a sight which shocked him.  Racing across the top of a ridge, he saw what appeared to be a small figure riding a horse at a full gallop.  And the horse, Bernardo had no doubt, was the mighty Tornado.

Thus it was that, as Elizabeth de la Vega stood alone in Tornado's corral, and Sergeant Garcia tried to wake up, Bernardo began to trail his master's horse in the hope that it might lead him to El Zorro.

*****

In the gypsy camp, all was quiet.  Don Carlos was in a dark wagon, his hands tied.  El Zorro was also bound, but Ishtar the gypsy king had placed him in a large cage on the ground just outside the wagon.  Thus Zorro was alone and trapped in the cold night air, trying desperately to unravel his bonds and wondering where, where, where were Sergeant Garcia and the lancers that were supposed to be on their way.  And where was Tornado?

The wagon where Carlos was kept was only a foot from El Zorro's cage.  

"Don Carlos!" came a low, whispered voice in the darkness.

"Si?" came the whispered reply. 

"It is Zorro. You are awake?"

"I cannot sleep in a sitting position with my hands tied, young man," came the reply.

If the situation weren't so desperate, El Zorro would have rolled his eyes.  As it was, he only wanted to find a way out.  "Can you untie your bonds?" Zorro asked.

"I have been trying without success," Carlos replied.  "I suppose you are in the same position?"

"Si," Zorro sighed.  

"I must ask you," Carlos resumed, "what happened to your horse?"

"I have no idea!" Zorro exclaimed.  "Do you think I wanted him not to be there?  They must have caught him when they were chasing the other horses."

"It is too bad.  But I sympathize.  They have my horse too, you know. And he is such a fine horse.  He was a gift from my son-in-law, Diego de la Vega.  Do you know him?"

"I am acquainted with the de la Vegas," Zorro answered, feeling great exasperation.

"That's right, I think you know Seņora de la Vega!" Carlos went on.  He was quite excited to have a chance for a real conversation with the famous, and famously elusive, El Zorro.  "She is my daughter!"

"Si," Zorro said.  "I am acquainted with the seņora."

"She is going to have a baby soon, you know!"

Zorro fell silent.  Yes, she is going to have a baby very soon, he thought, his heart sinking.   

"I have never had the opportunity, Seņor Zorro, to thank you personally  for the several times you rescued her from terrible situations," Carlos went on.  "I know that Diego, were he here, would want me to let you know how grateful our entire family is for all you have done for us.  Elizabeth is very special, you know."

Si, thought El Zorro, she is very special. A lump began to form in his throat.

"She is also," Carlos could not resist adding, "extremely devoted to her husband."

"Si, Seņor, I do not doubt it.  She has made that most clear to me," El Zorro replied.

"Has she?" Carlos said, feeling great pride in his daughter.  "That is very good to hear.  She can be very headstrong, as you have perhaps discovered."

"Your daughter is very brave," Zorro said softly.

Carlos could hear the emotion in the masked man's voice.  It touched him deeply, to think that this brave rascal of a bandit, who did so much good for California, was so hopelessly taken with his unavailable daughter.  In deference to Zorro's clearly-pained feelings, he decided to change the subject.   "Do you think we will be able to get out of this situation?" Carlos asked.  

Zorro did not know what to say, and so he said nothing.  He knew that all they could do was wait for the light and hope that someone, from somewhere, would find them.  Then he remembered something.

"That boy, who was sitting next to you, Seņor," Zorro said.  "When I first came upon the camp.  Who was he?  Where did he go?"

"Oh, Little Feather!" Carlos said.  "He ran off into the darkness right as all the horses were running into the camp.  He must have gotten away.  Perhaps that will work in our favor somehow."

"Little Feather?" Zorro repeated.

"Si, that was what he called himself.  He was only seven or eight, but he seemed rather cunning, really."

For the first time since this whole episode began, El Zorro smiled. 

*****

Bernardo's chase of the black horse was challenging, as his own mount was so much slower than the one he followed.  However, being a persistent fellow he stuck to his pursuit and was rewarded.  The great horse's rider eventually slowed the animal as they approached the upper Ojai valley.  Though Bernardo had not met Diego de la Vega until he arrived in Spain as a young student, he knew from Diego's stories that this was the territory where the Chumash Indians Diego had grown up with had retreated to when they left Los Angeles.  This was the land where Windhawk and his tribe now lived.  

Bernardo followed slowly, and eventually tied his horse to a tree to continue on foot.  Climbing slightly above the path, Bernardo watched as the boy continued, oblivious, until he reached a small settlement on an open plateau backed by a rock formation.  Several dome-shaped huts, all facing east, ran along the edge of the rocks.  A number of large baskets were sitting randomly in front of the huts. The boy rode the black horse into center of the enclave and was instantly greeted in the darkness by a tall Indian man and a woman.  The man grabbed him off the horse, hugged him and then boxed his ears, causing the boy to yelp.  The woman pulled him into her arms.  They were all speaking a language Bernardo had heard off and on in the pueblo, but could not understand.  However, as soon as they were finished greeting the boy, the man looked at the horse he had ridden in and exclaimed, "Tornado!"

He looked at the boy and asked a question, which resulted in a long explanation and much pointing back in the direction from which they had just come.  The Indian man took the boy by the shoulders and asked another question.  The boy nodded.  Then the man went to Tornado, patted his nose and said something to the horse.  

At that moment, Bernardo felt a sharp object digging into his back.  He turned slowly around to see an older teenager, a young brave, holding a spear to his back.  He gulped.  The boy gestured for him to get up from his crouch and move forward, towards the camp.  Reluctantly Bernardo did so.  They walked into the camp slowly, and Windhawk saw them coming.  He looked Bernardo up and down, and then said, in Spanish, "Diego's manservant."

Bernardo looked at him, puzzled, and the pointed at his mouth and lips, shaking his head to testify that he could neither hear nor speak.

"I am Windhawk," the man said, stepping towards him.  He said something to the brave with the spear, who then dropped the spear and stepped away from Bernardo.  Then he turned again to Bernardo.  "Do not bother with your game here," he said.  "I know that you can hear.  I have watched Diego speak to you many times, on the roads when you both believed you were alone.  Why are you here?  Trying to chase El Zorro's horse?  Do you know that he has been captured by the band of gypsies in the hills?"

Bernardo looked into the Indian's face.  He had never met him, and had only seen him once from a great distance when Diego had spied him on a high trail when they were returning from a trip to Santa Barbara.  He had waved, and Windhawk had raised his hand silently in a distant salute.  But neither of them had attempted to go to the other.  Bernardo had long tried to elicit from Diego the reasons why these two had apparently fallen out with one another, but had never gotten more than vague answers about Windhawk's family taking priority and Diego's departure for Spain causing a separation that simply lasted too long.  Now, seeing him up close, what Bernardo found was a man a year or two older than Diego, with a chiseled face and a look of experience and wisdom that greatly exceeded his years.  

Bernardo gestured that he had been riding along in search of El Zorro, and had spied Tornado high on a ridge and followed him.  This, he gestured, had led him to this camp.  

"The gypsies captured my son.  Also the man who talks so much. Little Feather escaped when El Zorro arrived. He took the black horse," Windhawk said.  Then he looked down at Little Feather and boxed his ear again, saying something else to the boy in the Chumash language.  He looked back at Bernardo.  "I do not think he did anyone a favor by stealing El Zorro's horse!" he said.

Bernardo pointed at Windhawk and then gestured riding back, to help those still in custody with the gypsies.

Windhawk was impassive for a moment, and then looked at the woman standing beside him.  Then his eyes went past her to the hut they had emerged from. Bernardo looked in that direction to see a little girl of perhaps four years coming out of the tent.  Windhawk gestured and the woman went and picked up the child, and brought her over.  She looked exactly like the woman, with long black hair and steady, almost-black eyes. Bernardo assumed  that this must be the second child that Diego had once mentioned.  Bernardo had no idea how Diego kept up with any of his old friend's business, but assumed it was through Indians in the pueblo who followed the lives of their cousins in the hills.  

Windhawk looked at Bernardo.  "I can give you the horse and send you on your way.  I have no business with those gypsies, and no business with El Zorro," he said.

Bernardo looked at him pleadingly.  He pointed to himself and then shrugged, as if to say he alone was not enough to make any difference to those being held captive.

The woman holding the little girl, whom Bernardo felt sure was Soaring Bird, the wife of Windhawk, put her hand on her husband's arm.  She spoke very softly, almost as if she were reminding him of something.  He stared at her for a moment and then looked away, again impassive.  Then he looked back at Bernardo.  Then he looked up at the dawning sky.

"The light is coming fast," he said. "We should try to get there before they are too much up and about.  You will have to ride Tornado and I will take my stallion."

Bernardo's eyes widened.  The idea of two stallions running together was sobering.  But perhaps they would not be around any mares.

"Yes, you will have to handle him well.  It is the only way we can get there fast enough," Windhawk said. 
He said something to the young brave still standing nearby.  Then to Bernardo he said, "I will bring Long Lash, too.  Do not worry, he rides a young gelding."

Little Feather said something urgent and Windhawk looked at him fiercely giving a terse one-word reply.  Bernardo had to smile to himself, imagining  the boy had tried to lobby to come along and was being given a  harsh no.  It was clear that Windhawk was vexed with his son for riding away on Tornado.

Windhawk looked again at Bernardo.  "I will help with releasing them.  But as soon as they are freed, Long Lash and I will leave, do you understand?" he said.

Bernardo nodded gratefully.  Windhawk said something else to Soaring Bird and then touched the little girl's face lightly, breaking a soft smile for the first time.  He said something to the child, who smiled at her father and touched his nose, and answered back in their language.  

Then Windhawk turned to Bernardo.  "We leave now," he said.

Bernardo gestured that he had left his own horse tied in the woods some distance away, and Windhawk gestured for Little Feather to get the horse.  "We will send him back to Los Angeles when we can," he said.  With that he disappeared into the woods with Long Lash, and returned momentarily, bareback, on a tall appaloosa stallion with a long black mane and tail.  Long Lash was astride a young bay.  

Bernardo took Tornado's reins and mounted.  The horse jumped nervously under him, unaccustomed to two foreign riders in the same night.  However, Bernardo calmed him, having a good deal of experience with this horse.  He looked down at Soaring Bird and the little girl, and waved at the child.  She gazed at him and then shyly put her head into her mother's shoulder.  Windhawk nudged  his horse's sides, and the three of them rode out of the enclave to find the gypsies.  Little Feather kicked the dirt in frustration as they disappeared.