~Chapter 9~

Ahmed lifted and carried Alejandro over to the small cave which smelled of horses and contained many small pallets, and laid him down on the nearest one. Elena tied Nestrelda, none too gently, to the nearly dead tree where Alejandro had been tied, persuading her to cooperate with the help of her pistol. As she bound Nestrelda's hands, the gypsy called her a name that was unspeakable in any language and spat at her. Elena raised a hand to strike her, then stopped herself.

"I would gladly slap you all the way to hell, you daughter of Beelzebub," she said, her beautiful face as cold and white as the moon, "but I am not like you. I am not one to do violence to people who are tied up, even when they are the spawn of demons."

Alejandro held onto Ahmed for a moment as the Arab set him down, shuddering, and Ahmed spoke to him gently, as he would to a frightened horse. He could hardly help noticing how warm Alejandro was.

Finally Ahmed whispered, "Thank you for saving my life." Alejandro nodded and Ahmed laid him on his side, feeling him for broken bones, a little sickened at the damage he saw. Whip marks back and front, a burn or two, bruises and deep scratches, lacerations, a couple of small puncture wounds. And in spite of it all he could still see the resemblance between Alejandro and himself. It was truly uncanny. Of all the strange things that had happened today, this was the strangest!

Elena ran to Alejandro, weeping, and threw herself down beside him. Ahmed rose and went to see about RoZita, who was now standing near the mouth of the cave. She still seemed stunned.

"Are you all right?" he asked her. "Let me see." He lifted her bloody hair in back to examine the wound. She winced a little but made no sound. "Does it hurt much?" he asked her.

"I can hardly feel it," she said. She was shaking all over. "Do you think he'll be OK? I think he has a high fever. We need to get him some cold water. He's liable to get dehydrated without it, and rum would only make him worse."

"I do not know," Ahmed said looking down at Alejandro, whom he could hardly see now for Elena leaning over him. "He is in a bad way. Why don't you sit down with them while I go to get some medicine supplies."

He led her into the cave with an arm around her and guided her to another of the pallets. Then he found a much larger blanket, probably Scourge's, judging from the size. Willy followed him to the body of the pirate, over which flies were beginning to congregate.

"Are you going to bury him?" Willy asked, wrinkling his snub nose.

"No. I am not strong enough to move him. All I can do is cover him."

"He stinks. And he's got bugs all over him."

"Yes." Ahmed covered the huge charred bloody body, trying not to be sick. Every muscle in his own body ached, especially his arm where Scourge had twisted it. If not for Alejandro, the brute would have broken it…just before cutting his throat.

"I hate him," Willy said. "He hurt me. When he grabbed my arm and started yanking me along. I'm glad he's dead." His lower lip quivered a little.

"He was a very bad man," Ahmed said with an inward shudder, thinking he had never seen anything that looked more monstrous, not even the Wendol. "He enjoyed hurting people. It was fun to him."

"Are you the real Zorro?" Willy asked. Ahmed looked at him, startled. He said you were," Willy explained, looking toward the small cave.

"He has a fever, perhaps he was delirious when he said that and did not know what he was saying. But he is the real Zorro."

"But you look like him. Are you his twin brother?"

"Perhaps." Ahmed decided that would be easier than explaining the truth to the boy. "Come with me to see my camel."

Willy followed him to where Fezeek was tied to a tree, nibbling at leaves. Ahmed untied him and spoke Arabic, so that the camel sank to his knees. Ahmed put Willy up on his hump and then climbed up in front of him, instructing him to hold on. They rode back to the overhang where they dismounted and tethered Fezeek to another tree. Then Ahmed took a bag hanging from the animal's saddle. Willy looked over at Nestrelda, who was staring at the camel in disbelief.

"I hate her too," Willy said, plenty loud enough for the gypsy to hear. "She is a bitch." He stooped and picked up a rock to throw at her. Ahmed grabbed his wrist and made him drop the stone.

"You must never say that word about any woman, Willy," he said sternly. "Women are to be respected always. They are the source of all human life, including your own."

Willy stared at him uncomprehendingly, then pouted.

"I want to go home. He promised to take me."

"We cannot take you just now, Willy. Later we will find a way to take you home. But just now it is impossible."

"But he promised me. And I want to go."

"I understand, my child. But he was ill when he said it. Sometimes when people are ill they do not know what they are saying. He is more ill now, and may die. Please try to think of someone besides yourself for a while, Willy."

The boy gave him the goggle-eyed stare of someone who has just been presented with a totally foreign concept.

But he said nothing. He followed the Arab into the small cave, where Ahmed opened the bag and took out several bottles and jars. He pulled the stoppers of several, and settled on one, which he handed to Elena.

"This is salve made from cactus and balm and aloe. Put that on his wounds," he said. Turning to RoZita, he said, "Let me examine that cut once more."

He put something on it that stung at first but began to soothe after a minute or two. Gently he stroked her hair over the cut. She sniffled a little, then looked at Alejandro with concern.

"We should get him near some cold water," she said. "We need to get his fever down. Elena, do you know if there is a body of cold water nearby?"

"I am unfamiliar with this area," Elena said as she doctored the whip marks on his back. "The only stream I know of is near where we started -- at our waterfall."

"We should get him there," RoZita said. "It could be dangerous here -- that other man he was talking about may come back here. But how can we? He can't ride, can he?"

"Perhaps Ahmed could hold him up on the camel, and you and the boy could ride with me on Tornado. But what do we do with her? We can hardly leave her here, she may escape, and she could be dangerous."

"Maybe one of them has a wagon or something," RoZita said. "I think I saw one out there somewhere. We could take him in that. I want to leave here too. It's…creepy. I sure don't want to spend the night here, with all those dead bodies lying around -- yuck. We can tie her and put her in the wagon with him."

"I don't want her anywhere near him," Elena said icily.

"Well, we could tie a rope to her and make her walk behind Fezeek. We couldn't go very fast anyway."

"Very well then," Elena said, "I believe you are right. You are sure there is a wagon? I do not think Tornado is used to pulling wagons, and he is too excitable, but there are other horses here, I see. Perhaps they could be hitched to one."

"I'll go see. I'm not absolutely sure, it was a long ways off, and we were-sort of occupied. But I'll double check."

Alejandro moaned a little, whispering the word "Agua." Elena leaned over to hear him.

"He needs water," RoZita said again. "He'll get dehydrated if we don't get him some. Rum would only make him thirstier, I think. We'd better ask her where to get water." She made a little face at the prospect of having to ask Nestrelda anything.

"If she gives you any trouble," Elena said through clenched teeth, "just tell me. I can be very persuasive, I assure you."

She heard a sob from Alejandro, and bent down to him with tears springing into her own eyes.

"What is it, mi amor?" she whispered.

"I want to go away from here," he said, sounding as much a child as Willy, reaching up a hot hand to touch her cheek. "This is a terrible place. I will die here."

"I want to leave too," Elena said, a couple of tears escaping her eyes as she took his hand in both hers and kissed it. "We will go as soon as we can find you some water."

"Who is that man who looks like me?" he whispered as she kissed his hand over and over.

"I do not know," she said, smoothing back the curls from his forehead. "Do not talk now, my darling. Save your strength. Just let us take care of you."

RoZita stopped short as she saw no sign of Nestrelda, and she gasped thinking the gypsy had escaped. Then she saw that Nestrelda had been tied to a different tree, one with much more shade. Ahmed had moved her, of course.

He is just too kind, RoZita thought with a little glow inside…no, it was much too soon to be in love, she had known him for less than two hours, surely. Even if he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and the kindest and bravest, of course it was much too soon…

Smiling, she went to where she thought she had seen the wagon, and yes, it was there. The mule was even still tied to it, looking very bored. Then she saw Ahmed coming with Willy.

She told him of their wish to be moved as Willy, feeling the effects of the fruit he had gorged himself on earlier, darted off to a stand of bushes to relieve himself. They walked slowly to the cave, when suddenly Nestrelda's voice startled them.

"You must not go to the waterfall," she hissed at them. They turned to stare at her. "HE is there. He is waiting for Señorita Montero so he could bring her here."

"What are you saying?" Ahmed moved nearer to the gypsy, and saw that she was crying a little.

"Carnal Love," she said sniffling and lowering her voice. "If you go there, he will lie in ambush and kill all of you. He was going to bring Elena here so he could have his way with her before he killed Alejandro in revenge for the death of his brother. And you must leave here before he comes back or he will kill all of us. I know a place you can go where he will not find you. There is water there, too."

"Why are you telling us this?" Ahmed said. "Are you not on his side?"

Elena, hearing the conversation, emerged from the cave, incredulous and distrusting. Nestrelda swallowed and wiped her eyes and nose on the ropes that bound her hands before she spoke.

"You would not let that boy throw the stone at me," she said, "and you told him to treat me with respect. And you moved me into the shade. No man has ever treated me with respect or kindness before. No man ever treated me like anything but a whore."

"Is that so?" Elena said coldly. "Well, I am not surprised. People usually get treated the way they act. When one acts like a lady, one gets treated like a lady. When one acts like a whore, one gets treated like a --"

"Elena," Ahmed looked sternly at her.

"I never knew how to act like a lady," Nestrelda said defensively, but without sullenness. "No one ever show me. But you must not go to the waterfall. If you do, he will kill you all, and he will come back here and kill us if we stay. I know where we can go. There is a stream of cold water and a rock shelter. I go there sometimes . . . when I want to be by myself."

"This is all an act," Elena said. "Why should we trust her? She may be trying to lead us into a trap."

RoZita thought to herself that if this were an act, then Nestrelda was one hell of a fine actress. The tears were real.

Ahmed said, "She may be telling the truth. And it IS dangerous to stay here. There may be more men where the others came from, and they may slip in and kill us."

"We cannot take horses," Nestrelda said. "Or the camel. The way is too narrow. We can walk it, is less than half a mile."

"How will we move Alejandro?" Elena said with a glance back toward the cave. "Ahmed, you cannot carry him that distance? Would he not be too heavy?"

"I have an idea," RoZita said. "I saw a bunch of bamboo poles in the cave. We can tie those together and make a stretcher."

"We can take my donkey," Nestrelda said. "We can load food and weapons on him, and the boy could ride him."

Fifteen minutes later, Ahmed and RoZita were in the lead on the path bearing the crudely constructed stretcher, the donkey following close behind with Willy astride, looking both frightened and proud of himself, while Elena brought up the rear carefully guarding Nestrelda lest the gypsy prove treacherous.

It was downhill most of the way. In the distance they heard the stream and smelled the freshness of the water. It was a beautiful place, with ferns and palmettos and flowering vines growing luxuriantly. A rock ledge on the other side of the stream provided some shelter. They waded across the shallow water, then laid Alejandro down beneath the rock ledge on a bed of soft sand and brought him a drink of cold water in a jug they had tied onto the donkey. He absorbed it like a sponge. RoZita soaked a blanket and laid it over him.

"What are you doing?" Elena gasped.

"We have to bring his fever down," RoZita explained. "To do that we have to keep cold water on him. If we don't, his temperature will keep rising."

"You are a nurse?"

"No, but I come from a medically minded family."

The cold blanket seemed soothing to Alejandro. Elena sat down with him once more. RoZita brought him and Elena a couple of beautiful and fragrant white flowers and some ferns that grew nearby, thinking perhaps they would help him to forget some of the events of the day and concentrate on getting well. Then she went to where Ahmed and Nestrelda were tending to the donkey, unloading the food and medicinal supplies and guns. Stooping down beside the stream, she wet a rag and scrubbed at the paint on her face. Tears gathered into her eyes and spilled over before she could stop them. Everything was just so overwhelming, she could hardly begin to comprehend it.

"Are you all right?" she heard Ahmed's voice say behind her. She started, hastily wiping her face, not wanting him to see her like this.

"Just cleaning this goop off," she snuffled. "I must look like a raccoon by now."

"You can be quite proud," he said, kneeling down on the bank of the stream beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder. It produced a powerful feeling in her. "You are brave and clever and resourceful. Today has been a wonderful day."

"Yes," she said, "you're right. This has been the big mama of crazy days…and yet, it's been the greatest day of my whole life. You know what all this reminds me of? This really old, OLD movie I saw called 'The Sheik.' The Sheik of Araby -- his name was Ahmed too -- is in love with this English girl and he abducts her intending to make her fall for him, which of course she does seeing as how he's Rudolph Valentino…"

She broke off, knowing he hadn't a clue who Rudolph Valentino was, or a movie either.

"A movie…that is what you watch on the magic box?" he asked. "Like a play, but without the stage, only in the box?"

"Something like that. And Rudolph Valentino was an actor. In this movie the dumb twit he abducts spends the first half of the movie resisting his advances, even though he's like totally dreamboat city, and he does everything short of tying her to the bed to make her fall in love with him, but finally she flips over him after she thinks he might be killed. . . ."

She hardly dared look him in the face, telling herself once more it was too soon to be in love, that what she actually felt was a mixture of admiration, protectiveness, respect, tenderness, gratitude...and pure-dee animal lust. She wanted to pounce on him like a tigress and wrestle him to the ground, then she wanted to take a stick and write, "Ahmed, I love you!" in the sand just like the girl in the movie. And kiss him over and over, and lie in his arms until dawn…

Less than a mile away, Carnal Love waited for Elena, fuming.

He found something draped over a tree, some kind of black robe with pretty gold-edged designs on it, birds and trees, maybe it was hers? Looked kind of Japanese, although at the back of the neck he saw a small tag marked Dillards -- whatever that meant, it didn't sound very Japanese. There were signs of upheaval, branches littering the meadow grass, which was scorched in a couple of places, and one or two of those strange droppings he'd seen on the road…but Elena was not to be seen.

In frustration Carnal Love poked around the trysting place, silently willing her to show, talking to his horse, snapping at branches with his sword in frustration and cursing. He thought about her eyes, her long black hair, her creamy skin and crimson lips, how her soft body would feel clasped against his. She was a spirited creature, and he liked that. He pictured the look on Murieta's face when he had his way with her in front of him before dispatching the bandit once and for all. Then Elena would be his slave.... Maybe he wouldn't kill Alejandro after all, just hold him prisoner and get what he wanted from her in exchange for keeping Murieta alive. Maybe that would be even better than killing him, certainly be more fun…

But where in the hell was she?

He sighed, lit a cigar and sat down on a stone, then noticed something. The whinny of a horse that was not his own. It seemed to be coming from under the ground.