Anna lay on her side on the cold stone floor of the jail cell. She faced away from the door. Her legs were tucked up under her skirt, and her head was cradled in her arms. The crying had stopped; she had no more tears to cry. She stared into nothing. Footsteps sounded. Faint whispers. A rattle of keys and the creak of rusty hinges. She didn't move, didn't even look up when the door to her cell opened.
"Anna." A voice whispered. She didn't move.
"+Anna+," Diego said a little louder this time. The girl raised her tear stained face to look at his as he crouched next to her. "+I want to look at your shoulder and neck to make sure you are alright, okay+?"
Anna nodded her head ever so slightly. Diego scooped her up in his arms, placed her gently on the small cot next to the wall, and sat behind her. Slippers clicked on the stone, Diego turned to see Victoria walking into the cell, Felipe after her.
"Felipe brought the water you asked for, Diego, and here are some clothes for her to put on." She placed the dress on the window ledge. "Is there anything else you need?"
"Gracias. I can't think of anything right now, but if I do I will call you." Diego answered, taking the bowl and cloth from Felipe. Victoria nodded and left quietly.
Diego dipped the cloth in the bowl and wrung it out, watching the girl as she leaned against the stone wall. Holding the rag in one hand, he, very carefully, reached his other hand out to her hair. Anna started at his touch but did not pull away. The girl's hair was thick, as well as long, and when Diego's hand pulled some of it to the side off of her neck, another part would fall back down.
Diego looked up for help at Felipe who stood watching. The young man moved to the cot and slowly sat down in front of Anna. He watched her reaction carefully, gauging his movements by hers. He reached his hand out gradually to her hair. His eyes watched hers, but she did not look up at him. Diego swept the girl's hair to Felipe's hand, whose fingers wrapped around it securing it out of the way. Diego began wiping away the blood from the abrasion on her neck.
At such an angle, Felipe's arm quickly became tired. He shifted on the cot, but the movement did not help. He knew he had to move closer to Anna, but he didn't want to frighten her. With a glance to Diego, he slid forward a few inches on the cot, and then a few more.
Felipe saw Anna's breath quicken, but she did not flinch or move
away. He slid forward again; her eyes flew up at his. Trust me, he
willed silently, not daring to move. She was so close that the warmth
from her breath soaked through his shirt to his chest, and he caught
a hint of lavender from her hair. Felipe rested the hand that held
her hair onto her right shoulder. He looked to Diego, who began his
work again.
Diego cleared his throat, "+Anna, we have taken care of Matthew.
We will see that he is buried properly.+" He said, wringing out the cloth in the water bowl.
The wound on her neck from where Roberto had thrown her against the wall was not bad. Diego quickly cleaned the dirt from it, but decided that it didn't need to be dressed. He looked at her shoulder, bare, raw, and red, as he rinsed out the cloth in the bowl. The three, parallel lacerations there looked much worse.
Cautiously, he rubbed the cloth on the wound. Anna gasped and involuntarily leaned away from the cloth, her head bumping against Felipe. She tried to shrink away from the touch, but Felipe's arms reassured her. His hands were strong and comforting, and as the cloth stung her skin again, she felt she had not the strength to argue.
Diego carefully cleaned the wounds and applied a dressing. He placed the cloth in the bowl of brown-red water, stood, and, taking the bowl, left the cell.
In the awkward silence that followed, Felipe lowered his arms and slid away from Anna. She leaned again against the cold stone wall and slipped into the nothingness, as he watched helplessly. The cot springs creaked as he stood.
The young man walked to the window and lifted the clothes from the windowsill. He placed them on the bed where he had sat, and looked back over to the girl. One single tear traced down her cheek. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out to her, and gently brushed it away with his fingers.
"Do you see that?" Victoria whispered to Diego from the hall, as they watched Felipe and Anna. "He is fond of her, isn't he?"
"He is taken with her, yes, but they are still very young." Diego answered.
"My parents were their age when they married—yours, too." Said Victoria, shifting the tray of food that she had brought.
"That's true, but—" the conversation was cut short as Felipe entered the hallway and signed to Diego.
"Felipe thinks that she may need some help getting dressed." Diego translated.
"Of course, I will help her." Victoria said, slowly forming the words so that Felipe would understand. Diego put his arm around his young friend and led him from the jail as Victoria carried the tray of food into the English girl's cell.
Diego handed Felipe the reigns to his horse and walked into the front of the hacienda. His mind was filled with so many thoughts and emotions that a nap seemed extremely desirable. However, he knew that that was not the best use of his time. He needed to spend that time in his law books studying reviewing international law. He hated to admit that the alcalde may have an edge in this issue. Yet what he was doing was so wrong and evil, he knew that Zorro must come through now or the people might begin to lose their trust in him and subsequently their hope.
"Diego!" Alejandro called as the man walked by his father's study.
"Si?"
"I have written a letter to the emissary concerning the situation. What do you think about writing the ambassador in Madrid?"
Diego furrowed his eyebrows.
"I think that may be a little much at this point. I need to study some of my old college texts and see what I can find on relations between England and Spain and the treatment of either's citizens. There is no blanket international standard, so unless I can find specific precedent between the two countries, then there is not much an ambassador can do in this situation."
"Let me know what you find. I will have Felipe return to town and post the letter." Alejandro said, sealing the letter.
"I will." Diego answered and continued down the hallway towards his library.
Felipe's pinto trotted toward Los Angeles for the second time that day. I'll have to give her a good brushing tonight, he thought, she deserves it. His thoughts again turned to the events of the day. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind. Anna cries out. The waitress screams. Gun shots. It still seemed surreal. He remembered running onto the porch ahead of the others. For one dreadful moment, he thought that Anna had been shot.
It was at that moment that he realized how much she meant to him. He could not rationally explain it, as Diego would have; he hadn't known her long enough to have discovered similarities of character or other attributes. He could not state reason after reason for his affections, but he knew that she had his heart. When he held her in the jail cell while Diego cleaned her wounds, he had seen her
beauty and delicacy beneath her mangled appearance. If she was hanged… Felipe gripped the reigns until his knuckles were white. He urged his horse to go faster; the letter must be posted as quickly as possible. He would do anything for Anna.
Rosa sat alone in her room in the tavern. The sun was setting rapidly, but she did not rise to light the lamp. That was Anna's job. She did not go to the closet to get her dress out for supper. She did not brush her hair or pour water into the washing bowl. Those were Anna's jobs. She sat in her chair and pouted. Oh! How dare he put her in jail! What am I to do now in this forsaken land?! Father simply must change this! The woman stormed to the door nearly bumping Victoria who was carrying a large bowl of soup to Roberto's room.
"You!" Rosa commanded Victoria, "You will help me dress for dinner."
Victoria blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"You will help me dress for dinner. And light the lamp, it grows dark in here."
"I am sorry, but I do not have time to wait on you hand and foot. If I have a moment, I will light the lamp. Otherwise, you must care for yourself. Surely, you can change your own clothes." The beautiful innkeeper retorted before entering Roberto's room and closing the door behind her. Rosa was left seething in the
hallway.
Felipe paced in the cave while he waited for Diego. He knew that Zorro would be riding tonight; he was certain enough to have already saddled Toronado. Finally, he heard the latch turn and his patron begin to walk down the stone steps. Diego threw Felipe his jacket when he reached the bottom. The young man hung it on the coat hook as Diego unbuttoned his white shirt.
"I still don't know how I'm going to convince the Alcalde."
Felipe raised his eyebrows as he handed Diego his black shirt.
"Everything that I found had to do with prisoners of war or something else that has nothing to do with this situation. All I can think is to play on the fact that she wasn't directly involved in the murder and that by wrongfully hanging her he could insight an international conflict."
"Is that really possible?" Felipe asked.
"No, probably not. I admit that I'm grasping at straws here."
"Why not simply release her?"
"Release her where? To be rearrested? To be returned to Spain as a prisoner?"
"You said that she knows about Zorro; bring her here."
Zorro looked at him in the mirror as he tied his mask. "That would be a last resort. You know that it is dangerous to bring anyone here." He turned toward the young man and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I understand your frustration, amigo. I will do my best."
Shadows crept across the streets and began to slowly engulf the buildings of Los Angeles. Martinez walked out of the tavern and stepped off the porch onto the street. His face was impassive, but he was awash with anger, fatigue, and fear—though he wouldn't admit it to himself. As he walked to the Alcalde's office, the lancer on watch saluted to him. He returned the salute and opened the door. De
Soto was seated at his desk.
"Buenos noches, Martinez! How good to see you! How is your son?" he asked.
"As well as can be expected."
"Have you come to set up for tomorrow? This little situation is perfect for drawing Zorro into our grasp!"
Martinez' eyes narrowed.
"Zorro?!" he yelled, "My son has been shot! My servant is dead! My daughter's handmaiden is in jail! And you have the nerve to bring up Zorro?!"
"Wh- What do you mean?" De Soto sputtered.
"I mean," Martinez spat, "that I am taking my family back to Spain immediately! This pueblo is nothing but disorder and chaos caused by military weakness, not some masked bandit!"
"But our agreement, our deal—"
"I care nothing for a deal made with you. You are an arrogant, pompous fool! And let me tell you one more thing…"
Anna sat in the still darkness of the cell listening to the angry voices from the office. She hugged her knees and rested her chin on them. A rat scurried in the corner and the girl pulled her feet in tighter. I hate rats, she thought. Anna remembered all of the pranks Matthew had pulled with rats while they were growing up.
Matthew. It was hard to believe he was gone. Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn't we just have gotten back to England? She knew that she had to pull herself together and think lucidly or else her situation could rapidly deteriorate. The girl ran her fingers through her hair; her shoulder was stiff and sore. She rubbed it and sighed.
"+Anna!+" a voice whispered. Anna started, and searched the room with her eyes for the person who had spoken. "+Can you hear me?+" the voice asked.
"+Yes, who's there?+" she asked, knowing the voice.
"+Zorro. Are you alright?+"
"+No+," she said honestly, "+but I shall make it.+"
"+I haven't much time. Martinez is negotiating your release. They will come back here soon.+"
"+Release? Why should he care?+"
"+Because Rosa needs you.+"
Anna rolled her eyes in the darkness. "+Why are you here+?" she wondered.
"+To check on you. I wanted to be sure that nothing was going to
happen tonight.+"
"+Why would you worry about me?+"
"+I don't think that anyone should be treated unjustly.+"
The voices from the office grew louder and the latch to the door of
the jail opened.
"Adios." Anna heard Zorro whisper.
"-and we shall leave as soon as Roberto is ready to travel." Martinez finished, as the two walked into the jail. A torch flickered brilliantly to light the way.
"I can't change your mind?" De Soto said.
"You don't want to change my mind. Just be glad that I am not reporting you to the emissary."
The alcalde's keys jangled in the lock as Martinez spoke. The door opened.
"Come, child." Martinez motioned. The girl walked forward and was released into the custody of her master.
The tavern was closed for the night when Martinez and Anna returned from the jail. It was dark in the main dining hall. Martinez walked to the stairs, Anna to the kitchen. Neither said a word to the other, and none was expected. A fire was still burning low in the kitchen. Anna let her hair down, and began to get ready for bed. At least this bed didn't smell as horrible as the cot in the jail; she didn't worry about lice either.
Suddenly, pounding footsteps hurried down the stairs and ran out the front of the tavern. Anna wrapped her shawl about her and walked out of the kitchen to see what was going on. Glancing up at the balcony, she saw Victoria walk into Roberto's room, where the lights were still burning. The English girl began to walk up the stairs, when the footsteps returned.
Martinez burst through the door with Dr. Hernandez. They hurried up the stairs, nearly bumping into her at the top. She followed them into Roberto's room. He lay on the bed still and ashen. Rosa sat in a chair on the far side of the bed, looking worried and anxious. Victoria wrung a cloth out at the wash bowl, while Martinez and the doctor hurried to Roberto's side. Anna stood in the doorway watching the doctor work. When he was through, he turned to Martinez.
"He has taken a turn for the worse. Infection has taken hold. You must watch him closely tonight. Victoria keep placing the cool compresses on him. I will check in a little later. Call me if he gets worse." The doctor turned and left. It was going to be a long night.
Anna was already at work in the stables when the first vaqueros arrived. Life would be harder now; not only did she have her own chores to do, but Matthew's, as well. She willed herself to continue working. It would keep her mind off her troubles. If she dwelled on it, Anna knew that she would simply drop into the hay and cry.
With the horses fed, Anna went back into the taverns. There were many soiled linens to wash today. Roberto had been sick all night. They had all gotten little sleep. The girl crept into Rosa's room, not wanting to awaken her mistress. Rosa had said nothing to her since her release. Her eyes flashed with anger whenever the girl was in her presence; she blamed Anna for her brother's injury and now sickness. Anna had sense enough to leave her alone.
After collecting the dirty clothes from Rosa's room, she entered Roberto's. The young man lay in bed, sweating and grimacing in his sleep. She knew he was dreadfully sick. Martinez sat in a chair near his son's bedside, his head leaned back, snoring. The girl took the soiled sheets and towels and carried them back down to the yard.
Dropping the clothes on the table, she took her buckets and walked toward the town square to get water to boil. She glanced up at the sky. Clouds were rolling in from the sea. It would storm sometime soon, she thought, no use in washing clothes today. I'll use the water for the horses.
The town was bustling as usual, as if nothing had happened. For a moment she resented that the world had not stopped, that no one seemed to care for Matthew. Yet she knew that life continues, even when one does not. She dipped her buckets into the well, and they filled with water. Hearing a cart approach, she glanced up to see Diego and Felipe ride into town. They stopped in front of the
cobbler's shop.
Anna turned and carried the buckets back to the yard behind the tavern, as another horse and rider entered the pueblo. He was dressed in a brown riding cape with his hat pulled down over his eyes. The man was well built and strong in stature. He guided his horse to the tavern and dismounted. With blue eyes, he surveyed the town, taking in every detail. He turned and entered the tavern.
Anna poured the buckets into the water troughs. I should polish Martinez' boots. She walked through the kitchen, into the tavern proper, and up the stairs to her
master's room.
Victoria put a plate of eggs in front of a customer. When the man in the brown cape entered the room, she stood straight and walked over to greet him.
"Hola, can I help you?" she asked with a smile, noting his light skin and fine clothes.
With an air of business, he did not return the smile. "Habla ingles?" he asked.
"No." she said shaking her head, she turned and glanced to the dining hall behind her. Anna walked down the stairs carrying the boots. Victoria pointed at the girl, the man nodded and walked across the room towards her, as Diego and Felipe entered the tavern and sat at a table.
"+Excuse me, miss+?" he said. Anna stopped, startled, on the landing. She continued down the final steps until she stood in front of him.
"+Yes?+"
"+I am looking for Matthew Baker. Do you know where I might find him+?" he asked.
Anna's stomach clenched. She thought for a moment that she might be sick right there. From across the room, Felipe saw her face go pale, and began to take closer notice of the conversation.
"+Mr. Baker is dead. I am his sister, is there something I can help you with+?"
"+You are Anna+?"
"+Yes, I am+." She said, her forehead wrinkled with confusion. She set the boots on the landing, out of the way, and turned back to him.
"+I am Leftenant James Watson.+"
Anna suddenly recognized the man before her. "James? Is it really you?" she asked, smiling.
"+Yes, it's really me.+" James replied, kissing her hand with a flourish. Felipe shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"+What are you doing here?+" the girl asked
"+Matthew wrote to me. Is he really dead+?" the Leftenant asked somberly.
Anna's eyes dropped, as they filled with tears. "+Yes, he is. He was shot yesterday, trying to protect me+." She shuddered with grief.
"+He always was very fond of you.+"
"+Yes+," Anna smiled, "+Remember how we all used to romp over the moor together.+"
"+How could I forget+?" James smiled, then cleared his throat. "+Is there somewhere we can talk? Perhaps outside of town?+"
"+Yes+," she thought for a moment, "+There is a beautiful view of the beach up the road a little ways. I rode by it the other day, and wanted to stop, but I didn't have time.+"
"+Shall we take the time now?+"
"+My master and mistress are occupied now, I won't be noticed. Let me get my horse, and I will meet you out front.+"
"+That's fine.+" James said. Anna smiled and walked through the kitchen to get Lady. James tipped his hat to Victoria and walked out to the porch.
"The fires of jealousy awaken." Diego said, wrenching Felipe from thought.
"*Who do you think he is*?" Felipe asked.
"I don't know, but Anna didn't seem distressed by him. In fact, just the opposite." Diego said, sipping his lemonade. His young friend crossed his arms over his chest and watched where Anna had left the room.
