I am no one, I'm nothing

Capitulo Viente y Uno

The gentle hilt of the horse's trot nudged Aldonza awake. Her eyes opened slowly, cautiously. She saw a gray mass obscuring her view of the purple morning sky, and she struggled to comprehend what the coarse hair and pale skin could be. The young woman was keenly aware of a few things, the first thing being a throbbing pain in her right foot. The second thing she was aware of was that she was loosely being carried, though her head was held stable in a man's large hands.

The air around her was crisp yet warming, as if the landscape was a pot that had been set over open flames to warm the day's delicious atmosphere. Aldonza scrunched her nose towards her eyes and slowly brought back her tongue to lick her chapped lips, to taste life. Clearing her throat, she found her voice and exclaimed weakly, "Who are you?"

"Lady Dulcinea!" Don Quixote cried with excited surprise. "God was kind, for he knew it would leave me vulnerable and deflated to the point where I could not accomplish my quest, which is ultimately His quest, without you by my side!" He pulled on the horse's mane until it came to an uneasy halt, jostling the three bodies on its back with slight agitation.

"Aldonza." Pedro exclaimed in a weak yet loving voice. "You're okay."

"I... I am." The young woman replied, leaning to a sitting position with the aid of sturdy hands. At the new movement she suddenly flung forward with the grace of a newborn calf so that she was leaning against Don Quixote's chest, her head propped up against his shoulder and her feet twisted underneath her. Pedro reached out to caress her face and placed his forehead against hers, rubbing his nose softly against hers and whispering, "I was so scared I wouldn't see you again."

"You never need to worry about that, mi amor." She replied in a husky voice. "I don't go down without a fight." A grim smile separated her lips, which puckered when Pedro brought his upon her cheek.

"Shall we stop and make camp?" Don Quixote bellowed cheerfully, pleased and suddenly renewed now that his lady was conscious and functioning properly.

Pedro glanced up to take in their surroundings. They were in a field of wild flowers, tall grasses shooting from the earth like wild, vibrant hair. A lake was nearby, he could tell, as the croaking of frogs and buzz of flies could be heard in the distant through the thickening air. "We shall stop for a few hours." He began, slowly climbing off the horse before lifting Aldonza from her original seat. "But then we must go. We are so close to El Tobozo. And one thing is definite-I don't trust the delusional safety of anywhere until Paco and Juan are dead."

Pedro removed his over shirt and stretched it out on a grassy knoll before placing Aldonza gingerly on it. He returned moments later with a worn out saddle bag. Opening it, he retrieved fresh bandages and offered her his hand. "Squeeze this." He told her, retrieving a needle and thread from the depths of the bag. "This is going to hurt, but I have to clean it." The man brought surprisingly nimble fingers to the mouth of the gash and slowly peeled the flesh back, cringing as Aldonza yowled out in excruciating pain. With determination and steady hand, Pedro proceeded to remove the dirt and prickling hay from it, pushing stringy muscle fibers back into the wound and daringly plunging a hand into it to rearrange stranded bones. Aldonza squeezed his hand until it was turning purple, causing Pedro to bite nearly through his lip. The skin around the wound was bruising, patches of grey, yellow and blue combining to form a putrid color that seemed to emit a dangerous odor. Still, nevertheless he worked patiently and progressively until he was wrapping the soon-to-be-soiled cloth around her foot, padding it with protective ease and snipping the threads as he sewed the bandage together.

"Thank you." The young woman whimpered as she laid on the blanket, releasing her firm grip on Pedro's hand yet keeping her limp hand in its shadow.