~Chapter 8~

"I am Zaîda and this is Morgana, and she is very sad," said RoZita running her hand over the prickly brown arm and trying not to shudder, thinking it felt just like a cactus. "Her cobra died yesterday and she lost her favorite nose ring and her lover has tonsillitis so he can't give her any kisses today. Would you like to watch me comfort her?"

"Oh yessssss...oh babyyyyyy...."

"Come then, sweet Morgana…"

HACK!!!

Elena ran a finger down the large crooked nose. "Darling, it's soooo hot. I'm hot. Are you hot?"

HACK!!!!

"I do lovvvve a bad boy," RoZita purred, rubbing her head catlike against the bony shoulder. "And so does Morgana. Sweetie, what are we gonna do with such a baaaaad, baaaaad boy?"

"We will have to punish him," pouted Elena, poking the other arm with a ringed forefinger. "You must come with us now so we can both punish you properly, you baaaaaad boy!"

HACK!!!!

"How many is that?" Elena asked, wrinkling her nose at the bloodstains on Ahmed's white robe. The Arab looked down at the scarlet marks, then whipped off the outer garment and tossed it aside. RoZita looked away from the mutilated and gory bodies, hoping she would not be sick again.

"Seven," Ahmed said, then reached out to touch RoZita's arm. "Are you all right?"

"If anyone had ever told me someday I would be embracing a career as a serial killer," she gasped, "I -- I guess I would have…gone straight out and bombed an old folks' home…or something."

"You are not a serial killer," Ahmed told her gently. "You are a warrior on a mission. I would give almost anything not to have involved you in this, but sometimes certain things must be done and bloodshed cannot be avoided, and innocence must be sacrificed to a greater good. Try to think of it in that way and it will not destroy you. And you have done wonderfully well. I am proud of you."

"How many more do you suppose there are?" Elena asked. It was weird how calm she sounded. "I have seen no sign of the tattooed pirate."

She turned slightly green at the very thought of Scourge.

"Look what I found here!" the pirate shouted. Alejandro looked as Scourge came forth dragging a small, very chubby, sandy-haired boy by the arm. The boy whimpered in protest. "A nipper stowed away on board! Arrr! What's we gonna do with 'im, hey? Shall we cook 'im for supper, what? Nice fat 'un! Ha ha ha!" He pinched the boy's plump cheek hard.

Alejandro could hardly believe his eyes. The little boy bore a strong resemblance to Carnal Love. If it hadn't been such a wild coincidence, he would have sworn this was his tormenter's son.

Nestrelda, who sat idly poking the remains of a campfire with a long stick, looked at Willy Love indifferently. He sniffled.

"I'm gonna tell my papa," he whined. "I wanna go home. And NOBODY better cook me!"

"Look at that!" Nestrelda exclaimed, jumping to her feet and pointing past Scourge's shoulder.

Alejandro looked. Two women were approaching in the distance, dressed in oriental costume. One of them looked a lot like Elena, from here. The other he did not recognize. She clung to the taller, darker, more beautiful woman's arm and seemed frightened.

Yes, the dark one was Elena. Alejandro could tell by her walk.

Scourge turned about, releasing the boy, and although Alejandro could not see the pirate's face it was plain that he was pleased at what he saw. Every muscle of his huge, brutal body was clearly at full attention.

Nothing was worse than being so helpless at such a time.

"Now there's a sightly pair o' wenches!" Scourge exclaimed, his enormous, hairy hands clenched on his hips. "And they're bloody comin' right this way, by me mother's eyes! What a fair sight!"

The two young women drew closer. Elena's eyes met Alejandro's but she gave no indication that she recognized him. Still, he could see the stricken expression in them. He understood that she had come in disguise to rescue him, but how was she to do that? And who was the other girl?

Scourge took a step in their direction, then halted. They came closer, hesitantly; whether their timidity was real or faked Alejandro could not tell. Willy gawked at them, sniffling. Nestrelda stood up, twirling one of her strings of beads nearly hard enough to break it and baring her teeth. Finally she marched over to them, elbowing Scourge out of her way.

"Who are you, and what you doing here?" she demanded.

Elena took a little step forward saying, "I am Morgana and this is Zaîda, and we are lost. We are with a carnival going into Los Angeles, but we got separated from our troupe and cannot find the road back. Can someone show us the way to town?"

She looked in a half-flirtatious way at Scourge. The other girl clearly looked terrified of the huge brute.

"Well now, I might be able to be of some assistance," he said with mock gallantry, stepping in front of Nestrelda. "So...ahem...would I be gettin' a little something in return for showin' you fair ladies the lay o' the land?"

Alejandro gritted his teeth, then hissed a little.

"Niño," he whispered. Willy snapped around to look at him. "Can you untie a knot?"

Willy came a bit closer. "Yes. Why?"

"If you can untie the rope in back," Alejandro whispered, "I will give you something very nice."

"What?" Willy halted. "What will you give me?"

"I'll tell you if you untie me. It's a surprise. But you must hurry." Alejandro looked to Elena, who had noticed the exchange between him and the boy, and was clearly now doing her best to keep the pirate and the gypsy distracted. He could see Zaîda baiting Nestrelda.

"Do you promise?" Willy said. "And will you take me home? I want out of this place and I want it NOW."

"Yes, yes, yes," Alejandro reminded himself not to sound too eager. He prayed that none of the others would appear. Where were they anyway? They seemed to have all disappeared. He was unarmed; if they were to suddenly appear and descend upon him, what would he do? It would be hard enough just with Scourge. And what would they do to the boy?

Willy hesitated, looking back at Scourge and Nestrelda, then approached timidly. Alejandro was beginning to sweat once more. Then finally the boy went around the back of the tree and started working the ropes.

"There's a million knots here," he complained, "and they're hard."

"I will give you something nicer than anything you ever saw," Alejandro said in his most seductive tones. "And I will take you home on my wonderful black horse, Tornado."

"Tornado? That is Zorro's horse," Willy said. "Are YOU Zorro? You can't be, you're all tied up."

"Um…no. But I can take you to meet the real Zorro."

Willy breathed hard working the knots. Alejandro felt a little faint, but held on.

"Will you show us the way back to town?" "Morgana" was saying. "We must be there because they will expect us to do our dance for the people."

"I do the dance of the seven veils," Zaîda" squeaked up at the pirate, "and I only wear six." She gave a shrill giggle and looked straight at Nestrelda. "We are much prettier than her, wouldn't you say? And we smell better too." She wrinkled her nose.

"Ahem," Scourge cleared his throat, "just now I be a trifle occupied, but soon I'll be pleased to accommodate sech a comely pair o' wenches. For the time bein' I cordially invite the two o' yez to set and have a little drink o' rum. Ye must be a wee tired after sech a long walk in this warm weather."

"Oh thank you but we MUST be going," Elena said. She tried not to look at Alejandro, feeling so sick inside at the sight of her beloved man tied to that tree, his bloody shirt hanging in shreds from his poor wounded body, his face puffy and discolored from the blows he had received. Fiercely she told herself to be strong, to flirt with this ugly pirate with his obscene tattoos and look as though she were enjoying herself, all for the sake of Alejandro. "We will be late for the show and our master will be VERY angry with us. You don't know what kind of bad things he does when we don't do his will…"

"There, I got this knot," Willy sounded a little surprised at himself. "But there's about a hundred more."

"You are a strong boy," Alejandro said. He felt very hot, and wondered if he had a fever. "I know you can get all the knots, because you are a strong boy and you could be a hero."

Willy huffed and puffed as he worked the second knot. Alejandro was nearly blinded by the sweat that seeped into his eyes.

Nestrelda appeared about to turn to look over her shoulder. RoZita quickly asked her, "Is it true that gypsies wear no underwear?"

"I have had just about enough of you, you white-face nothing," Nestrelda snapped. She walked right up to RoZita and raised a hand to slap her. RoZita pulled the dagger Ahmed had given her from her sash and pointed it at her.

"Nothing? I'm more of a something than YOU'LL ever be, Carmen or whatever the hell your name is," she declared.

"Is that so?" Nestrelda whipped out a dagger of her own from the bosom of her dirty blouse. "We will just see!"

Suddenly Elena pulled out a pistol from her sash.

"Stand back, both of you," she hissed. Scourge jumped back, startled. She aimed, cocked the pistol at him, and was about to fire when Nestrelda lunged at RoZita with her dagger. Elena shot at her instead. She missed but did scorch the gypsy's blouse. RoZita leaped forward and grabbed Nestrelda's wrist, wrenching the dagger from her hand, then tried to stab her, but the gypsy grabbed her arm with a surprisingly strong grip. Scourge grabbed Elena's arm and twisted it hard so that she dropped her pistol with a cry of pain. RoZita jabbed at his tattooed arm with the dagger. Blood spurted from a huge cut and he yelped, releasing Elena.

And Nestrelda could only gasp as another man who looked exactly like Alejandro stepped out of the brush with a rifle that looked exactly like Cochino's.

Alejandro knew he must be truly feverish, seeing his own face across the clearing. Willy had stopped working at the knots and was staring at the man.

"Is THAT the real Zorro?" he whispered. "He looks like you. But he's not wearing the right clothes."

"Yes," gasped Alejandro. "Hurry, please. He wants you to help us."

Ahmed cocked the rifle, aimed and squeezed the trigger. But he was unaccustomed to shooting and the weapon was so huge and heavy, he only managed to blast away a chunk of Scourge's left arm. The recoil knocked him flat on his back and the rifle bounced away from him. With a howl of pain and rage, Scourge drew his cutlass from his belt and dove after Ahmed.

Ahmed rolled away and grabbed his scimitar, then sprang to his feet, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. The brute lunged at him and the Arab stepped aside and tried to strike the cutlass out of the pirate's hand. Scourge stood a head taller than himself, his chest and shoulders twice as broad. Ahmed's only advantage was that he was quicker on his feet, more agile. He would have to depend on that to hold his own, and he was not sure it would be enough.

RoZita grabbed the pistol, which she had nearly forgotten about, from her belt, cocked it and aimed at Scourge. But the risk of hitting Ahmed was too great and she was as inexperienced at shooting as he. Elena dashed over to Alejandro with her dagger and frantically tried to cut him loose, pushing the boy out of her way. Nestrelda looked at her own fallen dagger as if to retrieve it but RoZita gave her a look that said, Don't you even think about it, pointing the pistol at her in imitation of Charlie's Angels.

Finally Elena managed to slice through the ropes and Alejandro staggered free. She nearly burst into tears at the sight of his wounds but instead she caught him as he nearly fell into her arms.

"Look!" Willy cried and they saw that Scourge had knocked the scimitar out of Ahmed's hand. Both the pirate's arms were bleeding heavily and it was a gruesome sight, but it wasn't stopping him at all. He raised his blade high in the air to cleave the Arab in two. RoZita fired then, striking the huge man in the belly, but it was a little like shooting a bear. All it did was enrage him further. However, it distracted him enough for Ahmed to recover his scimitar and he sliced at the pirate with all his strength, cutting a large slash down his half-bare chest. Scourge lunged at Ahmed and nearly ran him through, but Ahmed jumped aside so the blade only nicked him. Scourge stumbled forward, roaring like a bull. Ahmed kicked him in the rear so that the big man fell flat on his face, then dove at him, but Scourge rolled over and leaped, incredibly, to his feet. Suddenly he dropped his blade and grabbed for Ahmed, wrenching the scimitar out of his hand and throwing him to the ground. RoZita raised the pistol once more and fired, then felt something hard and heavy strike her in back of the head. She had forgotten Nestrelda, who had hurled a big stone at her.

Scourge jumped almost on top of Ahmed and twisted his arm behind his back, cackling in triumph. He drew out a knife and held it to Ahmed's throat. Then Alejandro tossed the contents of one of the jugs of rum all over Scourge's back. The pirate released the Arab and leaped to his feet, bellowing in pain and outrage as the liquor burned into his wounds. Then Alejandro grabbed the stick with which Nestrelda had been poking the fire, and having dipped it into the rum, lit it into the smoldering campfire, and tossed it like a spear at Scourge, who went up in flames.

He shrieked like a demon from the bowels of hell, jumping and flailing, whirling and staggering every which way. The women stared in horror. Ahmed saw RoZita's pistol, which she had dropped when Nestrelda hit her, grabbed it, cocked it and fired. He was luckier this time and struck the pirate in the head. The giant fireball fell twitching, then lay still, small flames still licking at what remained of his clothing. The smell of his roasted, blackened flesh was sickening.

Nestrelda tried to scramble away but Elena was too quick for her. She grabbed the gypsy by one of her long braids, saying, "You are not going anywhere, 'manita!" Alejandro staggered toward the pirate and stood looking down at the dead man for a long moment. Ahmed rushed to RoZita, who was on her knees bleeding from a wound in the back of her head. Then he looked up at Alejandro, who sank to his knees also.