A Champion

By Donna and ABs

Grisham had slept for a time.  The pretty woman who looked like Tessa Alvarado had left a maid, who sat by his side if he needed anything, so he put Vera out of his mind for now and let himself rest.  He would do her no good if he did not sleep!  But when he woke he heard voices downstairs, and he hoped, perhaps, that Montoya's guests could be persuaded to help in his Quest. 

He sat up in the bed, causing Imogene to rush to his side. Waving her aside, he demanded his pants, which she reluctantly brought him. He was a little surprised to find his legs a bit on the wobbly side, but he did his best to hide that from the dark skinned maid. 

"Who does he have down there?  Anyone important?" he growled as he dressed. 

"I don't know, Senor," Imogene said as she handed him his now clean and pressed shirt. "All of the women went down to meet him, I do know that!" 

"Maybe he's important.  Maybe I can get him to listen to me.  I've got to rescue Vera!" said Grisham, putting on the shirt without a thank-you.  She was a servant, after all.  Then he stumbled out the door, and down the stairs.  He was bare-foot. 

His trip down the stairs was not the most graceful. He had to hang onto the rail to keep from tumbling down it head first. Cursing his weakness, he continued on his way, until he came to the main sitting room where Montoya was entertaining a tall, well dressed gentleman wearing a well-tailored velvet coat. 

Montoya's eyes narrowed.  "Come for brandy and cigars, Marcus?" he asked coldly. 

"Buenas Dias, Senor," Duncan said, clicking his heels together, eying the newcomer with curiosity. His Spanish was perfect, but it was accented rather oddly, since the speaker was from the Highlands of Scotland, not the plains of Spain. 

Grisham nodded.  He was a little fuzzy, still, on where they were, and for all he knew, this guy was someone important.  "Your servant," he said formally.  Then he tried to click his heels and realized they were bare.  Wincing, he said, "Colonel, I would like to speak to you on a matter of some importance." 

Montoya sighed deeply and motioned for Grisham to sit down and join them. Imogene knocked quietly on the door, carrying his socks and boots, and when Montoya nodded, she came in quietly and helped put them on for him. Once done, she disappeared out of the room, leaving the men to their conversation over brandy and cigars. 

"Colonel," Grisham said when they were alone, "we must go find Vera!  She is in danger." 

"People are already out looking for the marauders," said Montoya.  "We cannot look any harder than we already are." 

"But I know where they are!" he sputtered. “I’m sure I can find that place again!” 

All this of course, was being listened to very carefully by the newest Duncan in town. "Vera? There is a woman in distress somewhere and in need of rescue? If so, my sword is at your service, gentlemen!" he said, bowing in a courtly manner at the waist. 

"You come to a land troubled, Senor MacLeod," said Montoya.  "Across the river, there are men - brutal men - who have nothing better to do with their time than to raid our women for their pleasure.  Of course, until recently, Capitain Grisham was in league with them!  You would find it difficult, Marcus, to find aid outside these walls." 

Grisham did not remember being “in league”, or understand why he was already so hated. He did not get any more information though, as at that moment Hoshi knocked on the door, begging for the mens' indulgence.  "Akiko . . . it is time, Montoya-san," she said respectfully. 

Montoya stood. "Well," he said crisply, "it seems nature is calling.  I must be present, as the girl has no other to stand up for her at this time.  Will you two excuse me?" 

Grisham watched him go, his jaw dropped. How could he just leave them when such an important matter needed to be settled! 

"Since when does he have to be there?  Who is this woman anyway?" he asked MacLeod. 

"I don't know for certain, but perhaps there is a reason why he needs to be there. Who knows? He might even be the father! I know if I were so fortunate, I would drop everything to be at her side as well. But I'm not. So, tell me more. Where is this woman you are so desperate to find?" 

"Across the river," said Grisham quickly, pushing the absurdity of anyone having Montoya's baby from his mind in his excitement over having someone *finally* ask him about Vera!  "I was rescuing her from kidnappers, and then when I looked, we were no longer in the canyon, but in a forest.  And strange men with even stranger weapons were shooting bullet after bullet at me.  They took Vera.  I don't think they were after money," he concluded. 

"Doesn't sound like it," the Duncan from Spain said. "Do you think you can find this place again? If so, I can track them." 

"There is a wide river," said Grisham.  "I nearly drowned getting across. Do you think we could get a ship of some sort?" 

"Surely there is a boat of some type around here! If not, we will just ride until we get to a point where we can swim our horses across safely." 

Grisham stood. "Montoya should be here.  So, okay, he never really treated me with any respect, but to just march out!" 

MacLeod chuckled. "Your Colonel reminds me a lot of the master swordsman I was studying under before coming here. Consone was his name. If it were not for the possibility of learning what true duende is, I wouldn't want to be around him very much. He is only concerned with himself and his own station in life." 

Although the name Consone had brought some recognition to Montoya's face, Grisham did not even flicker.  What was funny was, Consone looked exactly like someone Grisham knew *very* well. 

There was another knock on the door, and this time Carmen entered.  "I am sorry, gentlemen," she said, "but the birth will be difficult.  Colonel Montoya has asked me to make his apologies, and says that he will discuss your plans tomorrow?" 

 MacLeod could see that Grisham was upset about that prospect, so he stepped in to quell the explosion that was sure to happen. "We can't just rush over to the other side of the river in the dark,” he said to Grisham. “And you are still a mite wobbly on your feet from your own ordeal.  We will make our plans in the morning, and by my honor, I will help you find your Vera and bring her back here safely, God willing!" 

Grisham nodded.  At least there was *one* man who understood. "My poor Vera," he muttered.  "I know she likes a. . . little on the side," he said frankly, "but somehow I don't picture her liking this!"