Zorro and the Outward Journey

By Susan Kite

Terror stalks Spanish California, ruthless and relentless ...
A landowner’s daughter is kidnapped and believed dead. Undaunted, Don Diego de la Vega wears Zorro’s midnight black garb, and goes forth in search of the girl. Once she is rescued, everyone believes the terrorists have been defeated. When the fanatics opt to kidnap a wealthy landowner’s son, they choose Diego as their hostage! Zorro must affect his own escape aboard a British ship, sailing toward a dreadful fate.
Zorro’s Pacific Odyssey, an original trilogy, takes “The Fox” from the California deserts, across the unforgiving Pacific, to strange challenges in an unfamiliar land!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bold Venture Press
• Release date: Feb 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005805302

Book preview

Zorro and the Outward Journey

Zorro’s Pacific Odyssey, Part 1 of 3

Susan Kite

Zorro created by Johnston McCulley

Bold Venture Press

Produced under license from Zorro Productions, Inc.

Zorro ® & © Zorro Productions. All rights reserved.

Copyright info

Cover by Francisco Silva

Design by Rich Harvey

Edited by Audrey Parente

Copyright © 2022 Zorro Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Zorro ® & © Zorro Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Published under license from Zorro Productions, Inc.

This novel is based upon the works of Johnston McCulley. The underlying rights in and to the property of Zorro are controlled by Zorro Productions, Inc., of Berkeley, California, which has provided Bold Venture Press with the use of its copyrights and trademarks for the purposes of this writing. © 2022 Zorro Productions, Inc. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without express permission of the copyright owner.

All persons, places and events in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to any actual persons, places or events is purely coincidental.

Available in paperback and hardcover editions.

Published by Bold Venture Press

www.boldventurepress.com

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Introduction

Zorro and the Outward Journey

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Susan Kite, author

Johnston McCulley, Zorro’s creator

Books in this series

Dedication

There are so many who have believed in me over the years and those who believed in the continuing legend of Zorro. This book is dedicated to:

Susan Schuck, who supported me in so many ways in the early years …

Keliana Baker, who critiqued the first draft of Pacific Odyssey, and …

Guy Williams, who provided wonderful inspiration for my first stories.

I hope you are all swapping Zorro stories up there in heaven. God bless you all!

Introduction

The Man Called Zorro

The early years of the nineteenth century were violent, even as many men struggled for freedom from oppression. This was never truer than in Spanish California where the government was far away across the oceans and oppressors preyed on peasants and landowners.

Diego de la Vega, returned from military school in Spain at the request of his father, wealthy rancher Alejandro de la Vega, realized direct confrontation against a tyrannical military leader would not be as effective as working secretly behind a disguise. He chose the name of the fox, El Zorro, and slipped through the darkness in clothing as shadowy and mysterious as midnight, on a black stallion as swift as the wind. His amazing swordsmanship and incredible athleticism defeated the cruel tyrant and others who followed.

Affecting the manner of a bookish scholar, Diego was considered harmless, sometimes even ridiculed, but Zorro was feared by anyone who preyed on the weak, the poor, and the oppressed. The vigilante soon became a protector loved by the honest folk of southern California. With the help of his loyal man, Bernardo, and later his own father, Diego continued his crusade against tyrants, often putting aside his personal desires to help the people of his homeland.

When a group of vicious revolutionaries arrive in Southern California, determined to sow fear into the hearts of Spanish loyalists, it becomes all Zorro can do to keep up with their reign of terror. Zorro must find out who is behind these diabolical plots. The revolutionaries target the royalist families, murdering, plundering and kidnapping innocent family members. The de la Vega family does not escape the terrorists, and it will take all of Diego’s cunning and bravery to overcome the conspirators’ evil plot. It all began like this …

Zorro and the Outward Journey

1

Zorro Uncovers a Plot

Zorro sat astride Tornado on the hill above the secret cave. He sighed, a frown deepening the lines of worry and fatigue etching his face. Leaning down, he patted the stallion’s lathered neck.

Ah, my friend, it was not meant we have success tonight, eh? Looking up, he noted the rosy hints in the east. Giving the stallion his head, they easily negotiated the almost imperceptible trail toward the hidden entrance.

As they entered the secret cave, Zorro felt the burden of failure weigh down on him even more. The only daughter of a wealthy hacendado from San Fernando had disappeared from her home without a trace two days earlier. Although he had talked to all of the servants and looked for clues near the hacienda, he had learned nothing. According to Bernardo, the local soldiers were unable to learn anything either. His father was little Marguerita’s godfather, and Diego enjoyed bouncing the six-year-old on his knee whenever they visited the Montoya rancho.

This was only the latest in a string of disturbing and violent incidents. Several nights previously, Don Armondo Alvaradis’ wife found him poisoned in the library of their hacienda. There was the brutal stabbing of a wealthy wine grower near San Pedro, then the suspicious fall of a ranchero down the staircase of his newly built casa grande near San Gabriel.

Zorro realized it was impossible to help everyone, but whoever was perpetrating these crimes was extremely systematic about it. There were no robberies, no plundering, no one else in each of the families was harmed, even though in two of the crimes, there was someone else in the house beside the victim. Whoever these perpetrators were, they were very, very good.

After the third murder, Zorro had no doubt it was the same group.

But why? What is their purpose?

Then there was the latest—not even a murder at all. At least not yet. But even so, the masked man felt this latest crime was related to the first three by a dark, sinister purpose.

Zorro sighed and removed the sweat stained saddle from his horse’s back. Turning to put it in the corner with the rest of the tack, he found his manservant, Bernardo, reaching out to take the saddle from him. Bernardo, I didn’t hear you approach. Bernardo seemed to be showing the effects of several sleepless nights just as he supposed he was. "What did you find out in the pueblo this evening?" He then realized the servant had Tornado’s saddle in his hands. Zorro took it back and watched Bernardo’s fingers.

‘Absolutely nothing,’ the servant signed, also adding an apology.

That Bernardo could not find out anything doubled his frustration.

Bernardo, you have nothing to apologize for, he reassured the older man. I could not find one trace of what happened to little Marguerita! Bernardo took back the saddle and put it away. What is happening? First the wine merchant, then Don Ramon, then Don Armondo, and now this! Removing his hat, mask, bandanna and gloves, Diego cooled off by dipping a towel in a bucket of water.

As he was wringing it out, he heard his father approach from the hacienda through the secret passage, which he often did since he learned his son was Zorro.

Diego, my son, were you able to find out anything? Alejandro de la Vega asked anxiously.

Diego shook his head, and wiped the sweat from his face. Since I started riding as Zorro, I do not believe I have ever had as frustrating a night as this one, Diego said with a sigh as he related to his father what he had already told Bernardo. What could I have missed? he asked, throwing the towel down. Don Renaldo and his wife are beside themselves with grief. After the murder of Don Armondo last week, and the other murders, they feel only the slimmest chances of hope for Marguerita’s safe return.

Sighing, Alejandro put his hand on his son’s shoulder. You did all you could do, Diego, now we have to leave it in the hands of God and the saints, Alejandro consoled him. You go on to bed.

Diego sighed and walked through the tunnel and up the stone steps to his room. After lying down on his bed for a few hours of much needed sleep, Diego found himself wide awake with the events of the last few nights tumbling relentlessly through his mind. He began mulling over all of the facts of the murders and the kidnapping in an attempt to solve the mysteries. It was only after a great deal of tossing and turning he finally fell asleep.

By midmorning, Diego was awake and had come into the sala for a late breakfast. His father was already sitting at the table, trying to bring the books of transactions up to date. Stretching his long legs under the table, Diego presented a picture of languid ease, but such was not the case. His hazel eyes were focused far away and had a troubled look in them, and his mind kept working furiously, trying to find a connection between the events. Bernardo brought him his breakfast.

Father, listen to what we have so far, Diego said, hoping one or the other of the two men might have some insight he had missed. "One: all the crimes were committed against hacendados. Two: all of the families are old California families, some of the wealthiest in the area. Three: in all of the crimes, only one member of each family was targeted. Four: ah, who knows what four is? he sighed. All I know is the crimes are very deliberate and well planned."

Bernardo made signs and tapped Diego on the shoulder to get his attention. He watched as the manservant made signs to remind the men of conspiracies in the past, which had tried to overthrow the colonial government of California.

Ah, yes, I remember, Alejandro said. Your point?

Some people had the impression from his moon-faced appearance and innocent expressions, as well as the fact he was mute that Bernardo was not very intelligent, but nothing could be farther from the truth. Diego philosophically assumed Bernardo’s astuteness was partially due to the fact he didn’t spend his time talking and therefore was able to listen and ponder much more than most people. Whether he was right or not, Bernardo often put new perspectives on problems others couldn’t figure out.

You know, Bernardo, you might be onto something, Diego said thoughtfully. Except this conspiracy only seems bent on breaking the wealthiest landowners, not everyone in California.

Wait a minute, Alejandro exclaimed. All the victims were very staunch King’s men, and have been involved in activities to keep Spanish California strong.

Diego looked up and gazed at his father intently. As have we, Father, and many others in the area, he said softly. If this is the case, then we have to find out who these men are and break this conspiracy, Diego declared. I think in order to do that, the first step is to find Marguerita.

Then he banged his hand on the heavy oak table, making the other two men jump. But how? I just cannot believe the intent was to kill the girl, or her parents would have found her dead, just as Don Armondo was found. She has to be in the area somewhere.

Diego sat back in the chair, sifting through every detail, everything he had seen and heard, trying to think what he might have missed. He thought back to the evening before when he had slipped into the casa grande unnoticed. He remembered finding Renaldo and his wife in the library. They sat quietly, holding hands, staring into a small fire, a fire carrying no warmth into the room. Don Renaldo, Doña Marquesa? he said, startling both of them.

El Zorro!

"Sí, I am sorry to frighten you, but I feel I must be allowed to talk to all of your servants about the disappearance of your daughter."

Our servants? Señora Montoya asked, disbelief in her voice. Do you think one of them could have taken our daughter?

If not, I think someone knows and I want to talk to everyone, excluding no one, Zorro said.

"Sí, please, whatever you can do to find our lost Marguerita," Don Renaldo said. His wife nodded, hope showing through tear-filled eyes.

Zorro bowed and left, slipping from room to room, almost like a ghost, first eavesdropping on the conversations; then asking questions and listening to the servants giving their tear-filled testimonies, hearing Don Renaldo’s anger and desperate fear, his wife’s sobs in the corner of the library when he had reported finding nothing. He tried to remember every servant, everyone who worked and lived on the hacienda. He tried to remember what everyone did and said, how they looked while he was there. Anything!

In a flash, Diego saw a quiet furtive figure moving on the periphery of one group of servants. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the man slip out of the room, and now he remembered he had not seen him again. With swift deliberation, Diego went over the names of all of those who worked on the Montoya hacienda.

Suddenly, he jumped up, startling his father. I remember now! he exclaimed. I was talking to all of the servants, but I missed one. He had disappeared and I had forgotten about him by the time I was ready to leave.

Who, Diego? Alejandro asked.

An Indian from the mountains. His name is Lupe. He is the one who comes down occasionally to help with the horses in the roundups and during the time they break the young colts. I think it’s time for Zorro to visit one of the remote Indian villages and find out if they know anything about this.

Be careful, son. Some of these people are very jealous of their seclusion.

Zorro was ready and away from the hacienda in less than fifteen minutes, not bothering to take a less conspicuous route, because he felt speed was the important thing now. He felt confident his great stallion, Tornado, was equal to the task of riding hard into the mountains and possibly having to travel rapidly back down again, even after his workout of the night before. What he wasn’t sure about was the disposition of the Indians themselves. This group had managed to keep itself separate from most of the influence of the white colonials, and Zorro knew they discouraged visitors. He hoped his reputation might get him an audience with their leader.

Traveling higher into the mountains, the outlaw slowed Tornado down, until, at its steepest point, he had to get off and walk. The horse didn’t need to be led; he followed behind. Stopping to survey the area ahead, Zorro saw nothing out of the ordinary. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t being watched. A prickling sensation between his shoulder blades told him he was. Zorro continued until he had almost reached the crest of the mountain. There, at a narrow pass, three scowling individuals stood shoulder to shoulder. Zorro stopped, dismounted and raised his hand in silent greeting.

You are El Zorro, the oldest one said simply. He looked neither pleased nor displeased to see the masked man. Apparently the leader of the small group, he had a face showing the effects of many years of concerned leadership, and eyes that had seen much change in his land. His long hair was streaked with gray, pulled back and tied with a leather strip in back.

Zorro nodded. "Señores, I have come in peace. I need your help in finding a young girl who has recently been stolen from her mother and father."

Why do you come to us? the older man demanded. What is a white girl to us? What are your affairs to our people?

I believe the girl is being kept in one of your villages, Zorro answered honestly.

Why would you believe that? the Indian asked.

Zorro saw no clues on any of the men’s faces to indicate if his hunch was correct or not. "Señor, the only person I did not speak to at the girl’s hacienda was one of your people. He left before I could speak with him and he left in a manner making me believe he was hiding something."

The men stared at him for several minutes. Zorro stood calmly, waiting for their decision. The leader motioned for him to remain where he was, and the group moved away to discuss the matter. Their voices were sometimes strident, raising and lowering as one or the other became agitated, but they spoke in their own language and Zorro could not tell what was being said.

When they came back, they looked disturbed. Listen to me well. We will take you to our village to talk about this matter, but only if you give your word you will tell no one of the things you see and hear, the older man said, standing quietly and waiting for Zorro’s reply.

I give you my word, Zorro promised.

You have more weapons than the one at your side? the youngest man asked, pointing to his sword.

Zorro nodded, handing him his whip before unhooking the sword and its scabbard and giving them to the man. Then they turned and went back up the trail, the youngest man following behind Zorro and Tornado. After an hour’s walk, the outlaw and his escort came into a small clearing, where about a dozen hide and bark dwellings stood. Some of the children looked up in alarm and hid behind their mothers when they saw the tall, masked, black-clad Californiano following the elders into the camp, and in turn being followed by a large, coal-black stallion.

The youngest Indian held out his hands for Tornado’s reins. Zorro shook his head and turned to the stallion. Tornado, stay here, he said, also giving a hand sign to reassure the horse. Flicking his ears, the stallion gave no indications of uneasiness. The Indians looked at Zorro with increased interest, but said nothing.

Zorro was led into one of the dwellings, where he and the three elders sat facing each other. The masked man waited for the Indians to make the first statements.

Two things cause us to break our tradition to bring a stranger to our camp, the older man explained. The first is that one of our own made the mistake of becoming involved in the affairs of the Spanish. He thought by doing so, he could, perhaps, drive your people from the land, and make it better for our people.

That statement slightly puzzled Zorro, who wondered what the kidnapping of a little girl would have to do with the ousting of the Spanish colonial government. Zorro turned his thoughts back to the words of the elder.

The other reason is you are one who can be trusted. He paused and then took a deep breath before speaking again. You are not the first stranger who has been in our camp.

2

The Rescue

Zorro was pretty sure they were referring to Marguerita. I am flattered by your praise. May I ask if the girl is still in your camp?

No, the younger leader stated. She is nearby with some of our cousins, but they are so strongly convinced of their right to keep the girl they will not give her up without a fight.

And you will not take the chance of fighting against your relatives, Zorro finished for him. That, I believe, is where I come in.

The leader smiled. This is where we get to see if you are as much like the fox as the rumors say. However, it will be dark before we set out. We wish you to rest here and share our meal with us.

Zorro smiled back. "It certainly will be more difficult than sneaking into the cuartel, he admitted. I thank you for your hospitality."

The tribe did indeed share their dinner with him, which consisted of venison stew, seasoned with locally growing herbs and plants. Wild onions gave it a strong flavor, but it was very good, and Zorro was grateful for their hospitality.

The late afternoon hours were spent resting and talking. Not being totally aware of tribal