CHALLNGES FOR 4-1-01

TRIO: Bullet, cactus, handkercheif

QUOTE 1: "What does not destroy me, makes me stronger." Freiderich W. Neitzsche

QUOTE 2: "Tis the brighter day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking." William Shakespeare

Authors:

Dea, Jim, Jo, Julie, Maril, MnD, Rodlox

by Dea

CHALLENGE: bullet, cactus, handkerchief

It was a scorcher of a day in Santa Helena. Not that most days weren't, but this day seemed hotter than most. A wind blew through the pueblo but it was hot and dry and carried with it the dust of a thousand deserts. Dr. Robert Helm stifled a groan as he opened his office door to escort a patient out.

"Your arm will be fine, Raphael," he assured the peasant farmer. "Try not to use it for a couple of days."

Helm knew that was a suggestion that would most likely go unheeded. The man couldn't afford to neglect his land and animals for even that short a span of time.

"Gracias, doctor. I will bring you a payment later today," the short, stocky man said, a smile splitting the sun-dried skin of his face.

"Don't worry about it, Raphael," Helm replied lightly.

"I will bring payment," the farmer insisted.

"Alright, you can bring it later," the doctor relented, knowing that the man's pride was at stake. "Good day, senor."

"Doctor," the man nodded and then disappeared into the growing crowd of villagers.

Helm watched him go then scanned the square, shading his eyes with his hand. He caught sight of two young children--brothers, judging by their appearance--who were in the midst of a great sword battle, long wooden sticks standing in for blades. He shook his head and sighed as the sight dredged up thoughts that these days seemed to simmer just below his consciousness. Why couldn't he simply get that sword-wielding woman out of his mind? Was that even possible anymore? So many things she did and said felt like a bullet through his heart. He'd been so much happier before he met her...hadn't he?

Swatting a small fly away from his face he went back inside the relative coolness of his office.

As the wagon neared the pueblo its driver became more and more nervous, fidgeting with the reins she held. Tessa Alvarado, a determined look gracing her lovely face, smoothed out her skirt with one hand and focused on the path ahead of her. She had made a decision. It had kept her up most of the previous night but she had finally come to a conclusion. She was going to tell Dr. Helm the truth about the Queen of Swords.

That morning when she'd risen and dressed early, informing Marta of her plans to go into town, the other woman had expressed her desire to accompany her young charge. Tessa had convinced her that she needed to go alone. Marta had seemed suspicious--even a bit worried--about Tessa's clandestine reasons for venturing into town but she had kept her comments to herself.

She spent the last leg of her journey deep in thought. What would Dr. Helm say? Would he believe her? He would after he saw the evidence she'd brought with her. Would he be surprised? Of course he would! Angry? She hoped not. Sometimes he could be as prickly as a cactus. She'd held back on this decision for so long now, she wasn't sure at all how he'd react. But she just knew she had to tell him. Their last meeting had convinced her of that. And once he knew the truth, they'd be free to explore the feelings they had for each other. Tessa couldn't contain a smile at that last thought.

When she reached Helm's office, she pulled up on the reins and brought the horses and wagon to a stop. Clutching a white linen handkerchief tightly in her right hand she approached the closed door. She brought up a hand to knock, paused and then simply pushed it open.

"Dr. Helm?" she called out.

Helm emerged from his small bedroom to see a familiar guest in his office.

"Senorita," he greeted genially. The last time he'd seen her he'd ended up with smashed tomato all over his hands. Even though there was no fruit within her reach this time, he still decided to play it safe. No jokes, no jabs. No comments about not knocking on the door. Just a simple, straightforward doctor-patient conversation. "What can I do for this morning?"

For a moment Tessa couldn't find her voice. She just stood there watching as he casually went about cleaning and storing various medical instruments, the uses of which she couldn't fathom. This was it. She was going to reveal that she was the Queen.

Steeling herself, she said, "Dr. Helm I need to tell you something.Something very important."

"What is it?" he asked, not looking up.

"I'm the Queen of Swords," she declared in a clear voice.

"Of course you are, Senorita Alvarado," Helm replied easily as he continued to work. "And I'm El Zorro."

"I'm serious, doctor!" she said, impatience creeping into her voice. How dare he not believe her! "I am the Queen of Swords! Me...spoiled little Maria Theresa Alvarado. I dress in black, carry a sword and ride through the pueblo fighting for justice against Colonel Montoya!"

Helm started to laugh. Then he stopped abruptly. "Senorita please."

"You don't believe me?" she challenged and prepared to play her trump card. "Do you recognize this?"

Unwrapping the handkerchief she carried, she presented a black lace mask for his appraisal.

"What is that supposed to be?" he asked, forehead creasing slightly.

"It's exactly what you think it is," she said quietly. She brought the mask to her face and held it in place, watching him for his reaction.

He turned from her, took a few steps to his left, stopped and looked at her again. He looked like he might start laughing again. But he didn't laugh. An unidentifiable expression crossed his face too quickly to name. Then his eyes became dark and hard. The muscles in his jaw clenched. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice so deep it nearly rattled her bones.

"You lied to me." It was impossible not to see that he was now addressing the Queen. "Since the day we met, you've done nothing but lie to me."

"Doctor, please understand--" she started but he cut her off.

"What's to understand?" he replied, his voice now laced with defeat. "I am such an idiot!"

"You're not--"

"How could I have been so stupid!" he asked no one in particular as he began pacing. It was clear he wasn't going to allow her to speak right now. Impatiently running a hand across his face, he raised his voice once more. "Not only did I not know that you and Senorita Alvarado were one and the same, I was also too dumb to realize that you were lying to me all this time! For God's sake...you even played them off each other!"

Tessa was confused for a moment until he continued.

"That day you accused me of being vain," he elaborated. "Not an hour later, Senorita Alvarado was telling me how honorable I was, and that anyone who called me vain was callous! Oh I'm sure you had a real laugh over that one! Especially when I let it slip how I felt about the Queen."

"I did not laugh!" Tessa pled. "When you said how you felt about me...the Queen...I was so shocked. I never would have believed you could feel that way about me. It was then that I knew I felt the same! I didn't want to lie to you, but I had to. It was best for everyone--"

"For everyone or just you?" he accused. Grabbing the black lace from her hand, he spat, "I wish I'd never seen this vile thing!"

"Please don't say that," Tessa said, squeezing her eyes shut tight for a moment. "This is my destiny, can't you understand that? None of this was meant to hurt you...or anyone else that I love..."

The doctor seemed to pull himself together. The stony look on his face proved it. Handing the mask back to her, he said, "I think you'd better go, Senorita Alvarado."

Senorita Alvarado? He wasn't talking to the Queen anymore.

"Doctor, I--"

"Please just go," he repeated as he turned his back. Without facing her he added in a very businesslike manner, "If you've a medical emergency please feel free to come by, but if not I think it's best if you don't come back here."

Tessa was speechless. Of all the reactions she had never expected this. Okay, she expected he might be angry, but... He'd completely dismissed her. To him the Queen of Swords did not even exist anymore. And he'd put a canyon-sized barrier between himself and Senorita Alvarado. She felt faint. She'd faked the feeling many times but this was real. Instantly regretting her decision, she clutched the mask so tight that her fingernails pierced the skin of her hand. She couldn't even feel it....

"Senorita Alvarado? Are you alright?"

Tessa's head snapped up at the voice and saw Dr. Helm looking at her worriedly.

"I'm sorry?" she mumbled, confusion causing her to take stock of her surroundings. She stood just inside the door to Dr. Helm's office. He was at a table, cleaning some of his instruments...

"You said you had something important to tell me," he reminded her. She didn't look too well. Could it be the heat? Maybe he should have her sit for awhile.

Tessa shook her head a bit to clear it, a strange mix of regret and relief flooding through her. "No, no it's nothing."

"Are you sure? Would you like to sit down a bit? Do you need some water?" he asked as he crossed over to where she stood slightly swaying.

"No, doctor, I'm just fine," she insisted as she finally regained her equilibrium.

'Madre do Dios!' she thought. 'Might that really be his reaction if I told him the truth? Or is my imagination just working overtime? Can I risk it? No, heaven help me, I don't think I can!'

"What did you need to talk to me about?" he prompted, casually crossing his arms across him chest.

"I just wanted to apologize for the tomato incident," she replied after a slight hesistation, forcing her tone to remain light. "That was a bit uncalled for."

Helm smiled.

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving it off with a hand. "I'm not entirely sure I didn't deserve it."

Tessa managed a small smile as she nodded and then turned toward the door. "I really must be going now, doctor. So sorry to have bothered you."

"No bother," he said as he followed her.

As Tessa pulled open the door she suddenly came into contact with Raphael, who was cradling a live chicken in his arm. Already flustered, she was startled and ran straight into him.

"Lo siento, senorita!" Raphael exclaimed. "I'm sorry!"

"It's alright," she replied, as she quickly righted herself. "I wasn't looking where I was going. If you'll both excuse me?"

With that she hurried to where she had left the wagon. Climbing up she grabbed the reins and signaled the horses. She suddenly had an overwhelming desire to get home. She needed to talk to Marta.

Helm examined the payment Raphael was offering with a wry grin. He thanked the farmer for his gift and watched as he returned to his family waiting in the square for him. Peering at the bird he now held, he said to himself, "I'm sure it will taste wonderful. As soon as I can bring myself to kill it."

He was about to take it around back when he noticed something fluttering in the breeze beside his door. Crouching down to look at it, he inhaled sharply as he realized what it was. A black lace mask. Reaching down he picked up the delicate bit of material in his hand and shut his eyes. When he opened them again it was to stare in the direction Tessa Alvarado had gone.

END

By Jim
[email protected]

SYNOPSIS. Continuation of MnD's 11 Challenge Response

Quick Beta by Mnd

WARNING: The use of Beatles quotes and EXTREME violence

~~~~~

Helm rolled as the Frog's sword was driven into the ground and a bullet smashing through the back of his head, pulverizing the cavalryman's face. Blood, brains and teeth spewed onto Helm.

Screaming canon balls suddenly filled the air, terrorizing the soldiers and horses before crashing and exploding among the hand to hand combatants. Canoneers either disregarded the fact that they were killing their own men or lousy shots. Men were torn apart or vaporized by the balls.

Helm heard the scream of a ball and dove into a crater from a previous explosion and landed on a cactus spine. An explosion rocked the earth and spewed dirt, rock, pieces of rifles, swords and body parts and more cacti onto Helm who had covered his head with his arms while trying to meld into the ground, without the aid of a ball.

"Why in the hell did I have to fight a war in the only country in Europe to have cacti?" Helm knew that they only other place in the world to have cacti was in the Sonoran desert located in the States of Sonora and Arizona in Mexico.

Suddenly Helm was bowled over as five enemy soldiers jumped into the crater to escape another cannon ball. The soldiers were scared shitless and cowered against the side of the crater. Helm grabbed his sword and prepared to kill.

"Please we are unarmed," cried one of the men, tears streaming down his face. They all put their hands on top of their heads. They were young, mere boys, covered with blood, guts and dirt.

Another cannon ball screamed and shook the ground, knocking them all to their knees and spewing more debris on top of them.

"I gotta get outta this place, if it's the last thing I ever do." yelled Helm at the men as he scrambled up the side and over the top. He got four feet when he hit the dirt as another ball whistled. Another explosion ripped the earth and Helm could see the ball landed in the crater he had exited. Something rolled near Helm's head and he looked over and stared into the eyes of the boy who had pleaded for mercy. There was no body attached to the head.

Belly crawling through the blood and gore, the smell gagging him, Helm scrambled into another crater as a mass of enemy soldiers charged him. A canon ball flew straight at the men and smashed a head into pulp, splattering his comrades before ripping off the arm of the man behind him.

Suddenly Helm realized that the cannon fire had ceased. The soldiers dropped their weapons and ran. He dove for cover as his own troops opened fire and then moved forward, systematically bayoneting every body that even so much as twitched, regardless of uniform.

A half-hour went by and the battle moved on before Helm dared to move. When he did, he saw more troops moving through the bodies. Miraculously some of the bodies were still alive and the troops help the wounded back towards the hospital unit. Helm passed out.

He woke as gentle hands picked him up. He forced himself to advise of his name rank and unit. His ripped leg had been wrapped with a handkerchief and the bleeding had slowed. He relaxed as he was carried into the hospital tent.

"Captain, after 2 days you are well enough to leave. Don't over tax your leg and the stitches will be ready to be removed in a week. Now get out of here so we can treat real patients," said a doctor with a grin.

Helm did as he was told. He commandeered a horse and rode away from the killing field as fast as he could eventually stopping to rest in an abandoned building. The sun filtered through the splintered roof as a single beam coming to rest on a cross. Helm was in a church. He looked closer at the cross. A Spanish sword was tied to the cross with a red sash. Though the smashed window he saw a figure dressed in black, with long raven black hair, riding a Chestnut colored horse riding away. He rubbed his tired eyes with his hands. When he looked up again, the figure, the horse and the sword were gone.

Helm raised his eyes skyward. "Lord God, get me out of here," he prayed.

END

By JoLayne

Look hard, the items, bullet, handkerchief and cactus are in there. Kinda. Sort of like where's Waldo?

~~~~~

Before Tessa awoke that morning, Marta was already fast at work getting the surprise ready. The invitations to Tessa's birthday party had been sent out with Vera's name prominently displayed to all the Dons in the colony, with the strict instructions that it should be kept a secret from Senorita Alvarado. Marta had been furiously hoarding food for the guests, making decorations with the help of the household staff, and trying to think of the perfect gift for her Tessita for the last month.

Usually parties were a common occurrence in the Alvarado household but after the death of the Don and Dona, Tessa hadn't had the heart or stamina to throw not even one. Marta wanted to mark the occasion of Tessa's 24th birthday with a lavish party that even the hard to please Dona would have been proud of.

Lately, since arriving in Santa Helena, there hadn't been a lot to celebrate, starting with the mysterious death of the Don. It killed Tessa inside that she hadn't been able to prove that Montoya had ordered her father's death. Marta had taken on the task of getting that ball rolling by asking questions of people one wouldn't normally even associate with, let alone converse with: the town drunk who was always sleeping behind Dr. Helm's office, the madam at the brothel, the scum and villainy that congregated in Beggar's Canyon. Marta only spent a grand total of 10 minutes there before hot tailing it back to the safety of the hacienda after it looked like she would lose more than any reales she had if she had stayed any longer.

Luis Montoya had been acting very strange the last couple of weeks. He was always able to produce a smile and small talk with Tessa and Marta when they would visit the pueblo, but on the trips that Marta had taken alone as she had secretly ordered cloth, food and supplies for the party, he was being overly cordial. Marta at first wondered if he was buttering her up because he knew that she gave Tessa advice. If Marta could be won over, Tessa could be soon to follow. I wonder if he has his suspicions that we believe he killed Don Alvarado?

Every time Marta had been in Santa Helena, Montoya would seek Marta out to bid her a good day, even if he was in the midst of punishing a peasant. He had been commenting on her clothing, telling her that she was an excellent seamstress when Marta would tell him that she had of course made the outfit herself.

There has to be something up his sleeve! Marta couldn't help but think, Imagine, a colonel so blatantly talking to a servant... I just can not think of what could possibly be his motive to be nice to me. In an instant, she wondered if he was attracted to her, but immediately dismissed it. If one knew Montoya at all, you would know that if he were to marry or even get involved in a woman, that woman had better come with class and money.

Having a little more time before Tessa would awake, Marta took out the birthday banner to stitch the gold brocade around the edges. The red silk was to have been used for a new dress, but Marta really wanted to make the decorations as special as possible for the party. The workers from the Alvarados and Hidalgos had been working overtime, and covertly, to make the party a success. Marta sat on the settee and took out her sewing kit.

Alternating between stitching the banner and thinking about Montoya made the time pass quickly. Marta's mind was more on the Colonel than what she was going with her hands. He had looked handsome in his uniforms, his hair was impeccable when tied into a ponytail, his goatee was well groomed and the graceful bow of his head as he peered up at her made Marta come to believe that he couldn't be a complete monster. He certainly had his good points.

Night had quickly turned into daylight as Marta heard Tessa move about in her bedroom. She couldn't possibly see the banner, it would surely ruin the surprise.

"Dios mio," Marta intoned as she brought herself out of her reverie. She quickly folded the banner and the rest of the brocade and replaced it in the chest just before Tessa emerged from her bedroom wearing a robe.

Keeping herself in front of the chest so Tessa couldn't even see that, she asked, "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Eggs would be lovely," Tessa said with a bit of sunshine in her voice and attitude.

"Raphael will be bringing them in momentarily," Marta replied, following Tessa into the kitchen.

"Care to give me my present now?" Tessa beamed as she sat at the table and peeked up at Marta.

"How about a little patience?"

"I am an adult. I am my own woman. I want my present," Tessa said, then prodded Marta. "Come on. Did you sew me a new dress? Order a new pair of boots? I really can not remember how I slashed the Queen's boots and should really get a new pair. It would be just like you to get me something sensible for me birthday, so is that is? Is that what you got me?"

"Even adults must wait, Tessita," Marta said with a knowing grin. "All in due time. You will never in a million years guess what I have to give you on your birthday."

~~~~~

From the moment Marta had left his office the afternoon before, Helm had been fit to be tied, yet bursting with excitement, and was ready to ride out to the Alvarado hacienda to have his way with her. He had been in the dark for too long; Marta's visit had been too short. He couldn't believe how that meeting happened in the first place, how short it lasted, and how he had actually promised Marta that he wouldn't do anything until the next day.

Concentrating on tying his tie was a difficult prospect as he was too excited about the evening ahead of him. Marta's words flowed through his head non-stop. He stepped back to look himself over in the small mirror and decided that he looked presentable, if not down right handsome. "Tonight is the night!"

~~~~~

As Montoya climbed into his carriage to go to the Alvarados, he didn't need to remind himself to take special care to inventory everything he could see. The extent of the fields, the number of workers, the furnishings in the casa. One day, they would all be his. Marta is indeed the perfect one to have on my side. No longer does she scowl whenever I approach her, even though she probably had no idea that it was what she had been doing. In fact, yesterday, it seemed as if she was happy that I made my way over to her and made a little small talk. For the first time, she smiled as I took my leave and she did not know that I was still examining her reaction. She had to have told Maria Teresa that I am a good man, and since this is the Senorita's 24th birthday, it was certainly time that she should marry before people started to talk.

Colonel Montoya made sure that Tessa's present, a sapphire necklace, was carefully laid on the seat beside him in such a way that if they hit some potholes, it wouldn't be mussed by falling to the floor. In his breast pocket, on the other hand, was the diamond ring that he had commissioned to put on her finger just as he was proposing marriage to Tessa at the party.

"To the Alvarado's," Montoya commanded his driver. The carriage moved forward as he sat back comfortably on the seat. He hoped that Marta had indeed told Tessa about him to smooth the way. That the proposal would happen in public, she would not automatically say no. In fact, she might even be persuaded to say yes.

~~~~~

Unless Vera hadn't been able to keep Tessa talking at her place, Tessa wouldn't be arriving back home for another hour. Vera was to make her lunch, have them try on dresses that Vera had purchased from Madrid and had just arrived, and just keep her busy. Ever since Marta had shooed Tessa out of the house after breakfast, the entire hacienda had been alive with activity.

Several of the field workers were moving the furniture and setting up banquet tables, hanging decorations and cooking a feast. Vera had sent out invitations to all the Dons in the colony, also Montoya because it was expected, and also Dr. Helm. When Marta thought of the doctor again, she couldn't help but smile and be warmed. She had finally confided her secret to him. He was shocked, but soon came around. By the time she left his office, he was actually beaming.

~~~~~

Because Marta had given Vera a new dress for Tessa to wear that evening, and was one that they would try on, she was chagrined when Tessa had donned the baby blue gown that Vera was going to wear. There was so much to do, so much responsibility, it was so hard to lie to Tessa. Vera needed to get her out of that dress, into the correct one, then get Gaspar and Tessa into the carriage to go to the Alvarados, but not before any of the other guests so it would all be a wonderful surprise. Tessa was really loving the blue gown and looked herself over in the mirror. When Tessa got to the point of asking Vera how much it was so she could buy it from her, Vera was ready to just tell her that Tessa was to wear the white and that the dress she wore was hers. Tessa asked how she looked.

"Ugly," Vera said. "Blue is not a good color for you. Here, try this one on." She held up the white dress.

Looking off to her left, she saw Gaspar poke his head around the door. Vera motioned for him to go away, knew they were running late. It was also a good thing that Tessa hadn't noticed him or he her, as she had just let the blue dress slip down to the floor. Vera held out the white dress and helped Tessa get into it.

Lifting the dress up over Tessa's shoulders, Vera realized that she had spent a wonderful afternoon with her only real friend she had. Tessa looked hurt by her abrupt criticism of the dress and was sorry she had said it, but they both had to dress and get a move on. They couldn't be fashionably late at the party by two hours.

~~~~~

Everything was ready at the Alvarados and most of the guests had arrived. Marta had tried to steer clear of Montoya since he had made his appearance, but she couldn't be rude. She offered him a glass of wine and he hovered around her until she got it for him.

Thinking that the Colonel did indeed have intentions toward her, Marta grew more and more uncomfortable. She finally looked at him to see him scanning the house. She told herself that she was just being silly when Montoya asked, "Where is the senorita?"

Helm walked into the Alvarado hacienda at that moment and was making small talk with the couple by the door, but his focus was on Marta across the room. Marta hurriedly told Montoya, "She will be here in due time, Colonel." She handed him his glass and grabbed another and walked toward Helm.

As soon as she handed him his glass and motioned for him to follow her, politely smiling at the couple she had interrupted, they walked to a quiet corner of the drawing room. Marta warned, "Stop. Do not say one word until the time is right."

"Not a word comes from my mouth," Helm promised. "I just want to make sure. That wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Dios mio," Marta sighed and shook her head. "I told you about 100 times in your office that it was true. Do I have to say it again here in front of everyone? I would prefer that you do it in private."

~~~~~

Keeping her emotions in check was a difficult thing to do as the Hidalgo carriage made it's way into the Alvarado yard that was filled with carriages. Music and laughter emanated from the house. Tessa knew there was a party in full swing and it had to be for her birthday. She looked at Vera next to her in the carriage with a surprised gape.

Even Gaspar couldn't control his delight at the surprise any longer and said, "Heppy birthday, Tessa. I hope we were able to give you the party of a lifetime."

Raphael, Tessa's stableman, held out his hand and made a slight bow of his head as he helped Tessa from the carriage. When she stepped out and looked at the windows, Tessa caught a glimpse of the red banner that wished her a happy birthday. Vera started to smooth down Tessa's gown, as well as her own. "A surprise birthday party?"

"Certainly," Vera said, then placed her hand upon Gaspar's arm and walked toward the door. Then she realized that Tessa stood rooted in her spot. "Come on, Tessa. You should walk in before we do."

"How long has she been planning this?"

Instead of answering, Vera smiled and pulled her toward the door. Tessa radiated joy and wonder at how a fiesta could have been organized under her nose. "Marta! The party is my gift. This dress is mine, isn't it? It is not yours." When Vera nodded, Tessa continued, "All in due time she told me this morning. Marta never ceases to amaze me."

Everyone turned toward the door when it was announced that the Hidalgos along with the guest of honor had arrived. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" People crowded Tessa as she walked in the door. It was wonderful to see some of them, some she hadn't seen since she was a child, or who had once been children that she played with but were now men and women. The first one Tessa went to was Marta and gave her a big hug and whispered, "Thank you. I never expected this."

From the doorway of the living room, Helm hung back from the rest, the greeting of the birthday girl, all the commotion. Marta nodded to him and he disappeared toward the kitchen. Tessa thanked them all for coming individually as Marta slowly led her toward the kitchen.

"Come with me," Marta told her once all the greetings had been completed. "Your birthday gift from me is still waiting for you."

As Tessa was lead to the kitchen, she asked, "What more could you have possibly given me? This is going to be a wonderful party."

Chefs were still at work in the kitchen and Tessa dipped her hand into a bowl of pudding and about melted at the taste of it. "It is magnifico," she told him, and he nodded his thanks.

"This cannot wait," Marta said, pushing her toward the door. "I feel that your present is going to explode soon if you do not go out to the veranda."

Unexpectantly, Tessa was out the door and it shut behind her. She turned and tried to open the door again, confused, thinking she was alone, but it was locked. Then she realized that she wasn't alone. Even though it was dark--only the lights from the house lit the veranda--she could feel a presence there with her. She turned to see Robert Helm. Tessa smiled, then asked, "What is going on?"

Slowly, Helm walked toward her. "I know," he said as he stopped when he was inches from her. "Marta told me yesterday, something that I should have known all along." He raised his hand so she could see what it contained, the Queen's lace mask.

Before Tessa could even react, Helm raised his other hand and tenderly touched her cheek. "I am sorry, Tessa. I should have seen the truth. I should not have said all those things I have said to you, about her." He indicated the mask and lightly laughed. "Comparing you to her. You are her, the most interesting, marvelous, courageous woman I have ever met. I am sorry I never gave you a chance, to be herself, your true self, a queen." He wrapped his arms around Tessa's waist and pulled her closer to him. Nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck, Tessa wondered if she was going to faint. She held onto him for support. When she finally got her breathing under control and the lightheadedness passed, she looked up at him. Then she slowly, properly, did what she had only once had done in a rush. Tessa was finally able to kiss Robert Helm as herself.

END

*Didn't find the trio? Look at the first letter of each paragraph. :-)

~Jo

By Julie
[email protected]

DISCLAIMER: Fireworks owns the characters. I just give them grief.
RATING: PG
NOTE: This did NOT turn out at all like I planned. But I suppose sometimes that's a good thing.
TRIO: bullet, handkerchief, cactus

~~~~~

The senorita was distracting - her closeness, the smell of her perfume, the hand on his arm, the panicked breathing that caused her chest to rise and fall enticingly. But it would not do to stare lustfully at the wealthy young land owner, so Colonel Montoya gave her hand a paternal pat and put on his most reassuring face.

"Do not be concerned, Maria Theresa. We shall have those bandits behind bars in no time For now, I suggest you remain indoors, and I shall post some men near your hacienda."

She thanked him profusely in the style of a perfect Spanish maiden. Too perfect, he thought, as he shooed the lady and her servant into the house. Too perfect, too innocent, too vulnerable, too lovely.

The Colonel returned his full attention to the task at hand, capturing the band of riffraff who had eluded Grisham twice. The Colonel wanted to be sure the third time was the charm.

He was giving instructions to his men when one of the soldiers cried out. The gang had been spotted.

Brazen bastards, heading straight for the house. Montoya mounted his horse and directed his men. The bandits would not escape his trap.

In a short time, two of the bandits were dead, the rest surrounded. Even the crazed leader was holding up his pistol in a gesture of peace.

"A wise choice, sir. Now throw down the weapon," Montoya commanded.

The man turned slowly toward the voice, and his eyes lit on the Colonel.

"You the one in charge here?"

"Yes. Now throw down your weapon or die."

As soon as he saw the smile ooze across the bandit's face, Luis knew he had made a tactical error. This man wanted to die. But not alone.

Everything moved with supernal slowness. Later, Luis could swear that he saw the bullet clearly before it struck.

--------

The angel hovered over him, her soft sweet voice singing words he could not make out. Her long, dark hair flowed down, brushing his face. He longed to touch it, but his arms refused to move.

She looked at him, her face all peace and kindness. The lovely senorita. He tried to speak, but she laid a gentle finger across his lips. She bent low and told him to be silent, speaking softly into his ear, her lips grazing the sensitive lobe.

The senorita rose and lifted a blood-stained handkerchief to her breast. A vivid slash of red spread across her snow-white gown. Where could it have all come from?

"It's your blood, Luis."

Oh yes. Of course. The bandit. That explained it.

Luis drifted as the senorita stroked his hair. Ah yes, just like that, my dear. And don't cry. Dying is quite painless.

"I wouldn't count on that."

Luis could no longer see, but he knew she was there in all her black-clad glory, this demon who haunted his dreams. And know, it seemed, his death.

She leaned across him, her breasts pressing against his chest. He could feel his angel slipping away as the harlot raised her knife. His body convulsed with agony. A thousand cactus needles of pain radiated out from his shoulder. Pain coursed through his veins, clearing his mind, sharpening his hate.

He could see her now, standing over him, gloating, one hand on her hip, the other tossing a bloodied bullet into the air.

"Got that nasty thing out of there. Let's see what else we can do."

She leaned in close, and her scent filled him. She smelled of blood and sweat and earth and something else, something of power and passion. Her full, sensual lips came to his ear.

"You didn't really want to run off with that simpering thing in white, did you?"

He was shaking now with fury. Gone was the peace and acceptance. Now he wanted to force his limbs to move, his mouth to speak. He wanted to scream his loathing for this woman-beast.

"But for that, you'll have to live."

She was standing away from him now. Her lips smiling. Her arms beckoning. Her hips swaying. She was dancing to the sacred music of his vengeance.

-----

Voices swirled around him. He could make out Helm discussing him in that crisp, detached English manner.

"Doctor, look. He seems to be waking up."

Her voice. Was it his angel or his demon? Luis knew he could find the answer if he could just fight his way through the pain.

More voices, calling him, drawing him back to the surface. He could open his eyes, but where was she? He caught a glimpse of dark hair, but when he looked again, it was only the Alvarado servant bringing a glass to his lips.

She'd slipped through his fingers again, and now this was only an ordinary room with ordinary people.

But he was alive. He would not die today. What does not destroy me, makes me stronger. And my strength shall assure me my revenge.

END

By Maril
[email protected]

A child's game where the blindfolded player tries to guess whom they are touching

Disclaimers: The characters belong to Fireworks for now, the story is mine.
Feedback: Yes, please

~~~~~

As he rode in silence by her side, he glanced at her now and then, not knowing what to say. They had almost become lovers but now she seemed so distant she might as well have been on another planet. He opened his mouth several times to speak and closed it again. The words he tried to voice seemed all wrong. Finally he said, "I'm sorry." Seconds passed without a response. More loudly, he said again, "I'm sorry."

"The wound did not impair my hearing, Doctor. I heard you the first time." She gave him a coolly critical look and turned back to stare ahead at the trail. What did he have to be sorry about? Tessa's thoughts turned back to the hazy events of the last two days.

Tessa remembers...

Grisham and his men had been more relentless than ever, driving her further than she had been before, into the badlands. At least the hail of bullets had stopped as the Queen of Swords managed to put more distance between herself and the soldiers. It seemed like hours before she dared to turn around to see if they were still pursuing her. With relief, she noted the flat prairie was empty; no dust clouds marred the horizon.

Tessa slid off Chico's back and pulled her canteen from the saddle. The tepid water felt so good going down her dry throat. Guiltily, she thought of her horse. He must be thirsty too. She cupped her hand and poured some water into it and offered it to him. The horse slurped at it noisily as Tessa continued to refill her hand over and over. The water was nearly gone. And she was far from the hacienda.

All she could see were cactus and brush, and the distant mountains. If I retrace my trail, they may be waiting for me, she thought, recalling a similar incident not long ago when Corporal Garcia had captured her. I won't make that mistake again, she reassured herself.

Scanning the horizon, she looked for any landmarks that she could ride toward. She didn't recognize anything. With a sinking feeling, she realized she was lost. Chico's trail is still fresh, so I'll have to take my chances on that, she decided. I'll walk him for a while, poor fellow. He's had a hard day. Tessa took the reins and began to lead the horse as she followed his hoof marks in the hard earth. Anxiety roiled in her stomach as she noted the long shadows on the ground. The sun will be setting soon, she realized, and I won't be able to see the trail. I may have to stay out here all night. Marta will be worried but she knows I will be all right. I have been gone all night before.

Suddenly, Chico reared, pulling her off balance and she fell. She felt a sharp pain in her leg, then her head hit the ground and all was blackness.

Helm remembers...

He dismounted and nodded toward Pancho, a young peon who worked on the Alvarado hacienda. As he strode toward the house, Helm saw Marta seated on the verandah. A smile creased his face as he closed the distance. He like Marta; she was a kindred spirit, unlike her mistress. "Buenos dias, Marta," he said as he pulled off his hat.

Immediately, he sensed something was amiss. Her usual sharp reply never came, nor did she seem pleased to see him. In fact, her eyes were anxious and red-rimmed as if she had not slept. "Is there something wrong, Marta? Maybe I can help. Is the señorita sick? Where is Señorita Alvarado anyway? Out gallivanting around while others are working?" He meant his question to be a jest, and was not prepared for the violence of her reaction.

"What do you know about her? You know nothing!" Marta snapped at him sharply and got up to move swiftly away.

He caught up to her and stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Tell me what's wrong." Just then, a shout from the stable yard caused them to turn.

Pancho came running up to Marta, panting with excitement. "Marta, the señorita's horse has come back ... without her!"

In a flash, Marta was running toward the stables. It took Helm a second to react, then he dashed after her. They arrived at the same time to view the spavined horse, dusty and weary as it grunted and ambled toward them. Marta's face paled as she looked at the empty saddle. Barely audibly, she said, "Take care of the horse, Pancho." She waited until the boy had led Chico away, then said to Helm, "Now you know what is wrong. She did not come home last night."

"I'll go into town and get Grisham and his men to organize a search party. We'll find her, Marta," he said reassuringly.

She gripped his arm firmly as he turned toward his horse. "No! You cannot tell anyone she is missing." Marta had nearly laughed at the idea of Grisham searching for Tessa. It was because of him that Tessa was missing. Carefully, Marta said, "Did you hear anything last night about the Queen of Swords?"

The question was such a non sequitur that Helm was at a loss for a few seconds. Then, it made sense and his scalp prickled with the realization of what she was suggesting. A tight band seemed to have wound itself around his chest and he was having a hard time getting his breath to answer her. Finally, he said, "Grisham and his men came back late last night. I tended a few saddle sores, nothing serious. The men told me they had chased her nearly all day and finally had to give up. They were in the badlands without any provisions."

She said something under her breath that sounded like a prayer or an imprecation. Helm couldn't tell as it was in a language he didn't know. But he could see by her ashen face that she was already beginning to mourn her loss. Her eyes were hopeless as she gazed out across the hilly lands of the hacienda.

"I'll go after her, Marta. I may be able to follow her horse's trail back to her. I'm sure she's all right. The horse might have spooked and thrown her. I'll find her." He didn't add that his training in His Majesty's Secret Service included tracking. He had been trained by an expert during a brief tour of duty in the Canadas - an Algonquin scout. He wished heartily that his Indian mentor was with him now. "Help me get some provisions, Marta and I'll get started."

"I'll go with you," Marta said quickly, a sudden hope arising in her eyes.

"Someone has to be here in case anyone comes around looking for Tessa. We don't want to arouse any suspicions."

Marta nodded and began to walk toward the house. Her step was more confident as she thought with renewed hope, maybe he can find her. She has been through tough spots before and returned home safely. Maybe he will find her and bring her back to me.

Tessa remembers...

She heard someone scream in pain -- it seemed to echo forever in her head. Who was it? In the velvet blackness that enveloped like a warm blanket, she felt safe, comforted. Ahead was a dim light and she started towards it. As she closed the distance, it became brighter, and shadowy figures hovered like wraiths just inside the light. She knew them and tried to hurry forward, her arms outstretched to embrace them. "Mama, Papa," she cried out, but her legs seemed leaden suddenly and her progress was hampered by some force that held her back. Even as she struggled against the constraint, the shadows moved away, fading into the light. Somewhere, someone was crying. Who was it? She heard another scream and it shocked her as she tried to imagine who was in such pain.

The scent of smoke and other harsh odours assailed her as she became aware that she was not alone. Voices murmured in a strange language nearby. She tried to open her eyes and could not. A hand lifted her head and a cup touched her lips. She forced her dry mouth open to accept the drink. She was so thirsty. When the fluid touched her tongue, she struggled to close her mouth. It was too bitter. Marta, she thought angrily, you didn't put any honey into the medicine this time. I won't take it! The hand relentlessly forced the medicine into her mouth and she swallowed it, gagging on its bitterness. The struggle had taken all her strength. She drifted back into the abysmal darkness.

A cool cloth touched her forehead and a woman's voice reached her. The woman was singing something in a strange language that sounded like an incantation or prayer. It was gentle and soothing. Tessa opened her eyes to see a dark face smiling widely at her. The woman was dressed in colourful clothing, marked by painted designs, and around her neck she wore beads and feathers woven into an intricate and beautiful necklace. Her dark eyes were soft like a doe's. The woman moved to pick up a gourd, and placed it at Tessa's lips.

Tessa tried to move her head away. She remembered the distasteful liquid that had been poured into her mouth before. But the woman lifted the gourd and took a sip herself, then smiled reassuringly. She offered it again, and with a tentative taste, Tessa found it was only clear water. She drank thirstily and sighed with gratitude. She looked around at her surroundings. It was dark inside and above she saw the rock ceiling. She realized she was in a cave. But how had she got here?

A man's voice attracted her attention to the entrance of the cave. He was of medium height, strongly built and dressed in a similar costume to that of the woman. He spoke to the Indian woman and she replied in her staccato tongue, then nodded her head vigorously and laughed. Tessa assumed they were talking about her, but could not understand anything that was said. The man moved past the woman and squatted beside Tessa.

He gave her a very pleased grin, and said in Spanish, "You have been walking with your ancestors, señorita. I was afraid you were going to remain with them. The Great Spirit has let you return to fulfill your destiny."

For a second, Tessa was too astonished at hearing him speaking her language to reply. Then she asked, "Where am I? What happened to me?"

His soft eyes contemplated her for a moment. "You were bitten by a rattlesnake. The poison is often fatal, but one of our men found you in time. He tied your handkerchief above the bite, and sucked out the poison. Some of it must have remained in your body. You also hit your head on the ground when you fell."

"I am grateful, señor Indio. How long have I been here?"

"Two nights, two days," he replied. "This is the first time you have been awake since you came to us. Unfortunately, your horse ran off before we could catch him. But when you are stronger, we will return you to your home."

A sudden worry nudged its way into her mind. Did they know about the Queen of Swords? Her mask was gone and she realized by the scratchiness of the colourful woven blanket that covered her, so were most of her clothes.

Almost as if reading her mind, he said, "I know your secret, señorita. But we keep to ourselves out here. We care nothing for the towns of the white man. I learned to speak your language at the mission, but I ran away and joined these people. We are peaceful but we want nothing to do with the Spanish or their three terrible gods." He got up and beamed on her with his gentle smile. "Do not worry, Señorita Reina. No one else knows about you, but me. I will keep your secret. Now, you should rest."

In spite of his recommendation to rest, Tessa's mind whirled with anxious thoughts and rest would not come. She worried about Marta. She must think I'm dead by now. I've never been away this long. Not since the time I was kidnapped. And what about Vera and others. If they come to visit, what will Marta say? I must get out of here and get back home.

Tessa began to push off the blanket to get up, but a hand restrained her and a voice softly but firmly spoke to her. She realized she was not going anywhere just yet. Maybe under the cover of darkness, she could slip away from this benevolent imprisonment. The woman who restrained her was the same one who had been singing. Tessa assumed she must be a female shaman or healer. The woman gave her another gourd to drink from and this contained the bitter medicine she had tried to reject. With an ill will, she swallowed it, then laid back down. A sudden lassitude overcame her, and she wondered as she drifted off, what else was in that concoction.

Helm remembers...

The trail was still easily visible even to an untrained eye. Helm cantered along, his eyes fixed on the hoof prints, as he rode further into the badlands. So far, he hadn't seen another soul. Tessa's horse cantered behind him, his reins tied to Helm's saddle. At length, the prints stopped, and scuff marks on the ground suggested a sort of struggle. He got down to examine the earth more closely. There was a rusty spot on a rock. With a sudden chill, he recognized it as blood. She must have fallen from her horse. Something had scared it. But what? A puma, a coyote, a sidewinder? Where was she now?

Carefully, he stepped around the area, searching for footprints. He widened his search and was rewarded with a new set of hoof prints leading toward the distant mountains. So, he deduced, someone, not wearing boots obviously due to the lack of footprints, must have picked her up and taken her into those mountains on his horse. He smiled broadly to himself. A great relief spread through him as he realized he was near the end of his quest. He would find her. The elation deflated almost immediately as he wondered if he would find her still alive.

To give the horse a break from his weight, Helm led the horse along the well-marked trail. He had not gone far before a group of riders appeared in the distance from direction of the mountains. Indians! There was no choice but to wait for them. He continued walking steadily forward and soon they drew up and began to gesture at him. They were colourfully dressed and carrying weapons. A hunting party, Helm wondered. What were they hunting?

From their hand gestures and rapid speech, he assumed they wanted him to follow them. He remounted his horse and joined their group.

Tessa remembers...

The excited sounds reached her and she opened her eyes. It was evident something unusual was happening among these quiet people. Tessa drew the blanket around herself and tried to stand. The effort seemed beyond her strength. She remained sitting and waited while a group entered the cave. Among them was the one person she had never expected to see. Doctor Helm!

He spied her immediately, and strode over to her quickly. He squatted beside her and grinned into her eyes with a look that warmed her. He was actually glad to see her! She glanced away to hide the sudden tears that threatened behind her eyes.

For a long moment, Helm said nothing, then took her hand. "You can't imagine how relieved I am to see you." The words were soft as if his heart were in them. He touched her cheek to turn her head so he could see her eyes. She resisted and he said in a somewhat impatient tone, "I should see to you wounds. The shaman told me you had suffered a severe fall and a rattlesnake bite. Either could have been fatal." His words had the sting of a reprimand.

"What does not destroy me, makes me stronger," Tessa said with a haughty look.

Helm laughed. Nothing has damaged her spirit, he thought wryly. "I'd better look at the snake bite first. Where is it?" He took hold of the blanket and began to pull it away.

She tightened her grip on it and said indignantly, "Doctor! There are a dozen people standing around watching us. My wound has been tended to just fine." Her face flushed hotly as she watched him grinning at her.

"That didn't seem to bother you before."

"I was unconscious before. Now, if you would find my clothes for me, we can go home."

With a resigned sigh, he arose and handed her the saddlebag he had carried in. "Marta sent these along ... in case I found you. You might have asked me how she was." He turned on his heel and strode away, pushing through the group that stood gaping at her.

Tessa opened the leather satchel and found a skirt, a blouse and some fresh linens. She smiled at Marta's thoughtfulness, warmed by the reminder of the love of her friend. Dr. Helm was right, she thought guiltily. My first thought was for him, not Marta.

She looked up at the Indian woman who had been tending her and gestured to the clothes, then the group in the cave. At first, the woman didn't understand what she wanted, then she grinned and began to push the people out of the cave, with an unrelenting chatter of her strange language. The woman came back and helped Tessa as she unsteadily stood up and began to dress.

~~~~~

As she rode by Helm's side, Tessa wondered again what he was sorry about. It nagged at her curiosity and finally she had to ask. "What did you mean, 'I'm sorry'? Sorry for what?" Her voice sounded harsher than she meant it to be.

He glanced at her in annoyance and almost said, I'm sorry I found you. What did I expect? She would throw herself into my arms in an ecstasy of gratitude? Her pride is hurt and I haven't helped to heal it, only abraded it more. Somehow, everything I say seems to rub her the wrong way. Instead he said, "Forget it. Let's just get you back to your hacienda. Marta has been frantic with worry. Though that doesn't seem to concern you overmuch, does it?" He felt like biting his tongue as that last slipped out.

She pulled herself up more rigidly in the saddle as her chin lifted and she took a deep breath. "What do you know about my feelings?" She turned on him with a fierce glare. "They've never concerned you overmuch." With that, she kneed the horse into a canter, preventing any further conversation.

Helm hung back for a second, stung by her words. It was true. He had always treated Maria Theresa cavalierly. His finer feelings were reserved for her alter-ego, the Queen. Without thinking, he had reverted back to his disdainful manner with her, even though he now knew they were one and the same. Was there no way to get back the easy relationship he had built with the Queen? His mind was in turmoil as he urged his horse to follow hers. How was he to resolve this dilemma?

THE END

By Maril

DISCLAIMERS: Fireworks, etc.
RATING: G

~~~~~

Tessa's head turned suddenly at the loud rattling and jangling of the coach as it halted in a cloud of dust in front of the hotel. The arrival of the stage coach was always an event, like the anchoring of a ship in Santa Helena's small harbour. Either event usually signalled a break in the dull routine of the sleepy little California pueblo. Her curiosity was piqued when the driver leaped to the ground and pulled down the step, then opened the coach door.

A dapper, but portly older man got out, squinting in the harsh sunlight. Tessa recognized him right away, and with a wide smile, walked swiftly toward the coach to greet him.

"Senor Wellesley!" she hailed. "What an unexpected pleasure to see you here again so soon." She held her hand out, and Edward Wellesley raised it to his lips and gallantly kissed it.

"The long journey was worth it to see your lovely face here to welcome me, Senorita Alvarado," he said, bowing effusively. "And how have things been in this Garden of Eden since I left?"

"Other than a few snakes, Senor Wellesley, it has been very peaceful." Tessa laughed, as she enjoyed watching the look of good humour on the Englishman's florid face. His high colour reminded her that he was probably suffering from the heat, especially in the dark suit that hung in rumpled creases on his ample frame. A man used to rich foods and good living, she thought, but this torridness may cause him a stroke if he does not get out of the sun soon. "Let us sit in the cantina and refresh ourselves, senor. It is much cooler in there."

"I must attend to my baggage first, senorita. Then get lodgings at the hotel. Perhaps we can meet a bit later." Wellesley pulled out a white handkerchief and mopped at his perspiring brow.

"But, of course, you will not stay in the hotel!" Tessa exclaimed as she smiled into his twinkling grey eyes. "Please accept the hospitality of my hacienda for your visit."

Wellesley raised his eyebrows slightly then laughed. "Spanish hospitality. It always surprises me. Your generous offer is accepted, Senorita Alvarado. Thank you. I have stayed in this hotel before and the food is not fit for pigs. The rooms are just barely passable. Of course, I have stayed in worse places, but I don't know where," he jested.

Tessa saw the coach driver watching them with apparent impatience. She said, "Driver, put Senor Wellesley's bags in that wagon over by the horse trough. Gracias," she added as he climbed onto the coach roof to remove the luggage. "That takes care of the your baggage, now shall we go to the cantina? Marta is in the market but perhaps she will join us when she is finished."

Minutes later, they were comfortably seated at a table which overlooked the town plaza. It was busy and colourful with stalls of goods and food, and crowded with people, shopping and chatting. Tessa spied Marta and signalled to her.

Marta set her market basket in the wagon, and walked over to the cantina to join the two at the table. Her face showed her pleasure at seeing Wellesley again, and she greeted him warmly. "Senor Wellesley, we did not expect to see you again so soon." She looked around and added, "No Spanish Ambassador, this time?" She grinned at his look of distaste.

"Thank God, no, Marta." He bent forward as if to offer a confidence. The two women leaned toward him. "I have a present for the Queen of Swords." He sat back in satisfaction at the curiosity he saw forming in their eyes.

Finally, Tessa blurted, "What is it? May I see?"

Wellesley looked around cautiously then slid something out of an inner pocket of his jacket. It seemed to be a small book, a slim volume with a soft leather cover. With a furtive air, he handed it to Tessa. "Don't let anyone see this, my dear. If Montoya got hold of it, it could mean my life." He seemed satisfied that she took in the import of his words and settled back to watch her open the book.

She gasped and her eyes flew to Marta's. Recovering quickly, she smiled at Wellesley. "The Adventures of the Avenging Angel? You wrote this?" she said in a conspiratorial tone. He nodded. She said, "I don't know what could be in here that could be so risky for you. Did you say anything about Montoya?"

"The truth." Wellesley's usually affable face grew serious. "Truth is always dangerous, even when you try to hide it in a work of supposed fiction. I changed the names, but the facts are there for anyone who knows them."

"I would like to read your book, Senor Wellesley. That is, if you have another copy."

"As it happens, I do. That copy is a gift from me to you." He bowed slightly and smiled at the way she clutched the book.

"Thank you, Senor Wellesley! Let us finish our wine and go to the hacienda," Tessa remarked as she placed the book under her shawl.

Her impatience amused him. Wellesley's eyes twinkled with pleasure at the sudden flush that rose to her cheeks, and the bright excitement in her dark eyes. What a beauty, he thought fondly. My descriptions of her in the book hardly begin to do her justice. Maybe the next novel. He arose and pulled out her chair, offering his arm gallantly as they stepped out into the blinding sunlight of the street.

**************

"I must see the Queen of Swords as soon as possible. Is there some way to contact her?" The corpulent Englishman glanced inquiringly between the two women, as he filled his briar pipe. He leaned back against the wicker chair on the Alvarado verandah, and waited for an answer.

"You could find yourself on the gallows for doing nothing. That always seems to work," Marta said drily.

Wellesley laughed. "Marta, you have such a sharp wit."

"Have I? I wasn't joking." Marta looked toward Tessa as if for corroboration.

"Why do you need to see her, Senor Wellesley? Just to give her the book or for a story?" Tessa asked carefully.

"Actually, I have a message for her ...from Spain." Wellesley noted the slight rise of the young senorita's eyebrows, and the sudden wariness in her eyes. The eyes always give the game away, he thought with grim satisfaction. "It's for her ears only. Since the deaths of the Viceroy and the Spanish Ambassador, this little pueblo has become a centre of attention at the High Court. There was some talk of either replacing Colonel Montoya with a more competent, and possibly more ruthless man, or sending a large contingent of soldiers here to increase the garrison. A third option has been proposed. That is my mission here. To offer the third option." He kept his face bland and affable, taking great care lighting his pipe, drawing on it with slow deliberate breaths. Buying time while the information sank in.

Finally, Tessa said, "I don't know of any way you could get to meet her, Senor Wellesley. She just seems to appear and disappear suddenly. No one knows who she is or where she lives. I would imagine she is very wary of traps, so you may have no luck in your quest."

Wellesley had to admire her poise. She must be dying of curiosity about that message, but she has kept her head. What a spy she would have made during the War! "I will just put it about that I want to meet with her for an interview, and perhaps she will come out of hiding. When she hears what I have come to say, it may make all the difference in the world to her."

He laid that ace card before her, and drew heavily on his pipe, casually blowing the smoke away from the ladies. He saw a look pass between the women and Marta's eyes almost imperceptibly warning 'no'. So that's the lay of the land, is it? Wellesley took another careful look at Marta. He had merely take her for a faithful servant, but now he could see she was much more than that to the senorita. An accomplice or a mentor? Most likely both, he decided. The Gypsy woman was far sharper than most would give her credit for. Not to be dismissed lightly. Wellesley congratulated himself on his keen perception. No wonder Montoya could never catch the Queen! He was only looking at part of the picture, the obvious part.

Wellesley could almost see the wheels turning in Tessa's mind as she processed the information. What would she do? This was always the exciting part. Watching the mouse scent the cheese, then audaciously but warily approach, unable to resist the lure. Could she resist? He would know in a few days. I am blessed with limitless patience, he complimented himself, and a penchant for taking infinite pains over my assignments. This little trip should earn enough for a comfortable retirement.

************

The Queen turned suddenly to find two soldiers closing in on her. "You bastard!" she shouted at Wellesley. "You set me up!"

As the first soldier reached for her, she jammed her boot into his knee and he hopped away, howling in agony. The second soldier pulled his gun but Tessa threw herself against him and he sprawled onto the ground. A boot to the jaw stopped his effort to get up, and she turned again on the first soldier. He held his sword uncertainly as she pulled her own and advanced on him. His face was pale and he seemed to want nothing more than to escape with his life. Suddenly, he threw his sword on the ground and ran to his horse.

As she watched him ride away, Tessa felt the hard barrel of a pistol shoved in her back.

"Drop your weapon, my dear. We'll have no more of that," a smooth English voice said behind her. He chuckled softly. "I have some advice for you, senorita. Trust no one."

"Thanks, but it comes a bit late, don't you think?"

Wellesley smirked to himself. It had been so easy. Why did Montoya fail time after time? He had scarcely finished this thought when she whirled and caught him in the midriff with a solid punch that dropped him as if he'd been poleaxed. He grunted in pain, as he doubled over on the hard ground, trying to catch his breath.

Tessa stood above him, holding her sword very near his heart. "What was it, Wellesley? The story or the reward?" she asked harshly.

Wellesley was finally able to breath and looked up at her. In her eyes was the anguish of betrayal. Yes, Wellesley thought, those eyes will give you away every time. So soulful and expressive. She's hurt and it shows. He felt a moment of pity for her. She had a hard lesson to learn.

"It was both, and something else."

"What? This phoney message that you lured me into a trap with?" she said bitterly. She had fallen for this meeting, supposedly arranged through Senorita Alvarado. The abandoned mission had seemed like a safe place, except for his double-dealing. She wondered why there were only two soldiers. Did he plan to kill them to get the reward for himself?

"I do have a message for you. From the King of Spain." Wellesley pushed himself to a sitting position. He decided not to risk trying to stand, not with that blade so close to his heart. He had no doubt she would plunge it in if he tried anything. Her eyes told him she was in deadly earnest. He saw a flicker of interest as she glared down at him. He could work with that.

"A petition has been made at the High Court that you receive a full pardon." Wellesley waited patiently while she absorbed this momentous bit of news.

For long minutes, she studied him, watching for a sign of deceit.

He remained perfectly still, allowing her scrutiny for as long as she wanted. He was a patient man.

At length, she said, "Why would anyone petition for my pardon? Who was it?"

"Don Alejandro Alvarado." Wellesley noted that her mouth opened slightly in surprise and she jerked back slightly as if warding off a blow. You'll need a lot more practice at deception, my dear, if you expect to survive, he thought. How have you lived this long?

"Why would he petition the King for me? I don't understand this."

"I spoke to Don Alejandro at the Royal Court just after he put in his petition. As you may know, the don has a lot of influence at Court, being a member of the Cortes. There is great turmoil at the Court these days. Trouble in all the Spanish colonies. Don Alejandro suggested that instead of sending more soldiers, which the Court could ill afford, they simply offer an unconditional pardon for the vigilante known as the Queen of Swords. She would stop her lawlessness, and the pueblo Santa Helena would be peaceful again. That is the option I was instructed to offer you, Senorita Reina."

"And if I refuse this pardon?" she asked breathlessly. The immensity of what was offered had nearly made her stagger. But it would not solve Santa Helena's problems, only her own. "Perhaps you do not understand the situation here, Senor Wellesley. I became a vigilante to try to curb the injustice and tyranny here in this area. The job won't be finished until Montoya is gone."

Wellesley laughed shortly. "Do you really think removing one tyrant will solve anything? 'I fear there will a worse come in his place.' From Shakespeare. It's the power that corrupts men, my dear. And some men, like Montoya, have dreams of empire, and like Napoleon, have no compunctions about sacrificing other men's lives to achieve their dreams. You can't fight them all, my dear girl. All that you will accomplish is to stave off the day when he wins. He has the power. You do not."

Tessa lowered her sword slightly, but kept it at the ready. The offer was so tempting. To quit while she was still young enough to begin her life again. If I take the pardon, what will happen? Will Montoya know about it? Will I be immune to arrest if he ever finds out I am the Queen? And if I quit, will his regime become more ruthless than ever with no one to stand against him?

She backed away warily, keeping an eye on Wellesley and the unconscious soldier. A whistle brought her horse to her and Tessa mounted quickly. "I will consider the offer, and let you know, Senor Wellesley." She kneed Chico into a fast gallop and headed for the Sacred Valley. It was the most peaceful place she knew, a place where she could think. I should see Marta and ask her advice, but right now I just want to be alone for a while.

************

Something seemed to tickle his neck and Wellesley tried to brush it off. His fingers encountered something cold and his eyes flew open. In the bright moonlight he saw the flash of a blade, held by a masked woman. He sighed with relief. "Thank God, it's you. I was afraid for a moment."

"Of what, ghosts?" the Queen asked, with a wry smile.

"Phantoms, more like." He pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed and focussed on the woman standing nonchalantly beside him. "Well, have you come to tell me your decision?"

Tessa wandered across the room and stood, uncertainty in her eyes as she watched him. "I've been tricked before, Senor Wellesley. How do I know you are bargaining in good faith?"

"If you will allow me, I will get the pardon and show you. It has the King's seal. All you have to do is sign it." He smiled benignly and the moonlight glinted in his eyes. She's like a deer that scents danger, he thought, as she moved uneasily around the room. A good hunter is patient, and lets the quarry settle before taking the shot.

"Let me see it." Tessa brought her sword up, and in her other hand was a pistol.

He hadn't reckoned on her having a gun. She's more dangerous than I thought. With a flourish, he threw off the bedclothes and stepped over to a leather valise that was sitting on the tiled floor. As he bent to open the catch, he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. So she knows how to use it too, he thought wryly.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," she warned. "I can't miss from this distance."

The moonlight was bright enough in the bedroom that he easily found the document and pulled it out. He began to move toward her with it, but she backed away.

"Put it on the desk and get back into bed." Tessa waited until he had obeyed her, then warily picked up the parchment and studied it in the bright moonlight. Sure enough, what looked like a royal seal was impressed upon it, with a scrawl that could have been a signature next to it. She held her breath, somewhat in awe of this page that had come from her King's hands. It was what Wellesley said it was. The room was light enough to make out the seductive words ...immunity from prosecution ...freedom of a Spanish citizen ...unconditional pardon for all previous offenses. Her heart beat wildly as she clutched the document. She trembled with the enormity of the offer.

On the desk was a quill pen and ink bottle. Tessa picked up the pen and stabbed it into the ink. Her gloved hand poised over the document. All she had to do was put her name on it. And she would be free of the masquerade with no fear of the consequence.

But what name, she wondered. Her real name? "What name am I expected to put on this document?" she asked.

"Why, the name you were christened with, my dear. Of course. It wouldn't be legal otherwise."

"What happens to the pardon after I sign it?" Her scalp prickled with a sense of danger suddenly.

"I will take it back to Spain with me and it will be recorded," Wellesley said casually. "Then you will be free to resume your life as a Spanish lady."

Tessa swallowed several times; the page shook in her hands. In a sudden rage, she ripped the document in half, then half again, and tossed it on the floor. She gave Wellesley a wry grin. "You nearly had me, Wellesley. I almost signed my own death warrant. But, no deal. Tell the King thanks, but no thanks. Not this time, anyway." She turned to leave but Wellesley's voice called her back.

"Brava, my dear," he said heartily as he got out of the bed. "Brava! That took courage ... and quick thinking. You have passed the test. Now I can tell you what my true mission is."

Tessa kept the gun pointed levelly at Wellesley's heart and he halted several feet from her. Her eyes hardened as if daring him to come closer. In a harsh voice, she asked, "Why should I trust you? You've been lying to me from the start. How do I know this isn't another part of an elaborate trap?"

Wellesley splayed his hands in front and sighed. "Does the name 'Wellesley' not suggest something to you, my dear?"

"Of course. Arthur Wellesley commanded the British troops in Spain during our War of Independence, which you call the Peninsular War." Tessa looked at the Englishman more closely. "Are you saying you are related to Wellington?"

"Distantly, but I am also in the service of his British Majesty. The Intelligence Service, actually." Wellesley sat down on the bed, seemingly relaxed in spite of the gun which was aimed at him. "The turmoil here in this area is part of a larger unrest everywhere in Spain's empire. The British have territories on this coast which we want to protect. If Montoya succeeds in gaining a strong foothold in Alta California, how far will he go? With the rumours of revolution in Mexico and South America, Spain has her hands full. She will not worry about a minor official in a small area like this. But we have seen tyrants rise before, and raise huge armies and take over whole continents. It is best to kill this one in the egg, before he gets a real start.'Tis the brighter day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking'." He smiled sheepishly, adding, "Shakespeare again. Sorry. Bad habit that."

Tessa frowned in confusion. Was he suggesting she kill Montoya? There had been many opportunities but she had always held back. Killing was a step she only took to save her own life. She had never done it in cold blood. Was that what his secret mission was?

"Why me, Senor Wellesley? If the British government wants to get rid of Montoya, why not kill him yourself?"

"Politics, my dear Queen. A British agent killing a Spanish official would cause a major rift in our relations with Spain. We've only had a few years of peace with your country as it is. No, it has to be done carefully, and subtly."

"I don't kill for anyone, Senor Wellesley!" Tessa rasped. "Only in self-defence. If you want Montoya removed, you will have to find someone else." She backed toward the open window, preparing to leave.

"We don't want him dead! That would ruin everything." He watched her expression change to surprise and enjoyed the sight immensely. "No, we only want you to keep him too busy to further him ambitions. Keep him off-balance and worried about his position. Sooner or later, Mexico will become independent, and may even take over Alta California. We have contingency plans for that. Meanwhile, we want to keep this area stabilized under Spanish control."

Wellesley smiled at her shocked look. "And in case you were wondering, The King of Spain did offer a pardon, the petition did come from your uncle and I was instructed to offer it to you. As a British agent, I have managed to get very close to the Spanish Court. Of course, they don't know about my real identity. That's between you and me. I know you can keep secrets, Maria Theresa Alvarado."

~~~~~

EPILOGUE

Tessa sat on the verandah, staring out across her lands. Marta followed her gaze and said, "It is peaceful again since Senor Wellesley left. He seems to bring trouble in his wake."

"But he is a good writer. And he said some very nice things about me in his book. Listen to this," Tessa said as she picked up the small volume. "The senorita was a feast for the eyes, a dark beauty with a flawless complexion and a hauntingly lovely smile. In sharp contrast was her frumpy old Gypsy duenna who ..." Tessa giggled as Marta dove toward the book and tried to take it.

"Let me see that! I kill him if he ever comes back!"

Tessa held firmly onto the book and laughed heartily, nearly falling off her chair at the look of vexation on Marta's face.

Marta wagged her finger warningly at the younger woman. "Someday, Tessa, you will go too far."

END

by MnD
[email protected]

If someone wants to make this an RR, I only ask that the word "War" remain in each title... pleeease??? ::sad puppy face::

Thanks to ABs for the quick look-over.

WARNINGS: I get a leeeetle gruesome in some parts...so...be warned.

~~~~

Robert Helm held a handkerchief over his nose and mouth and braced himself against another heavy bout of coughing. The dust. The gunpowder. The blood. I'm a bloody spy, not a common solder. He screamed in his mind as he struggled to his feet. He reached for his rifle and ducked away as a bullet buried itself into the body that he lay next to. Partially sheltering himself behind a cactus, he held up the rifle. Reload. Lock. Aim -- low, man, low! Fire! The report went unheard in the din of battle, and only the recoil of the gun alerted him to the fact that he had indeed fired.

Because of the unexpected numbers of the enemy's forces, he had been asked to join the foot soldiers. Well, not asked, told. Reassigned to the bloody common regiment. Apparently, they needed manpower, not behind the lines information. Helm quickly moved back as another shower of bullets came his way, catching a sleeve on a cactus spine and tearing both coat sleeve and skin. Damn them. Ah, well, it's only a scratch. What does not destroy me, makes me stronger. Hah, what does not destroy me, will destroy my enemy! He fired towards the enemy lines, and in the momentary lull in the battle, he could hear pain-filled screams resonate through the musty air. He grinned with a feral satisfaction. So the job wasn't completely joyless... Bugger the damned Frogs! Tis the brighter day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking. He laughed exuberantly, caught up in the heat of the battle.

Drawing his battered sword, he lunged at the equally crazed soldier that was intent on skewering him. Fortunately for Helm, he was just as good a fighter when caught in bloodlust, as when he was clearheaded. The French officer did not have the same fortune, and was impaled by Helm's sword as his own pierced the cactus. With a gurgling sigh, he fell at an awkward angle before death over came him and he released his grip on his sword. Helm wrenched his arm backwards, and his sword pulled free. He whirled around, ready to charge into the fray. By pure luck, the second French cavalryman's blade missed him by inches as he turned.

Helm swore with vivid oaths that would make a corsair blush and threw himself to the ground. He received a slash to the leg for his troubles, but managed to scramble out of the way to avoid a second blow. The cavalryman's heavy blade swished through the air and sunk into the cactus as he fell forward. Helm took advantage of the man's distraction and thrust upwards into the man's stomach. Blood cascaded down onto him and he tried to drag himself from underneath the writhing body and still maintain his grip on his trusty foil. The French sword swooped down at an alarming rate...

TBC? If no one wants to make this an RR, I will finish the story (well... maybe not finish, just get the Doc outta harms way)

~MnD

By rodlox
[email protected]

Continuation of MnD's #11 Challenge Response

Technically not an RR...more of an Adventure.

~~~~~

I'm pinned and this idiot's dead weight on me, Helm found himself pondering a few minutes later. Can't believe I blacked out. He managed to push the deadweight off of him in such a way that wouldn't attract attention in battle.

"HEY!" a human voice called out, running over. Helm muttered an imprecation.

"Lemmee give you a hand up, soldier," a Welsh-accented English voice said, holding out an arm.

Helm accepted it, getting back to his feet again. The young man before him had the fuzz of an unshaven soldier. "Take me to your leader," Helm instructed. The soldier nodded and did as ordered.

He led the English spy to a tented encampment safely outside the battlefield's valley.

"Lieutenant Robert Helm, recon expert, reporting for duty, sir." Even if my vision's a little muddled...that might just be shell-shock, temporary.

"'Helm'?" asked the man leaning over a planning table, his back to the newcomers. "Which one of them?"

Here we go again...daddy's little boy... "Robb, the son of Robert III."

"Ahh, and a fine admiral he was," standing up straight and turning around, showing his sideburns and bald forehead. "Senior Captain Guliver, Fifth Regiment. Tell me what you think of our plans for tomorrow, Lieutenant," motioning for young Helm to join him at the table.

Robb did as ordered, looking down at a map of the surrounding area. Most of the markers which represented 5th Regiment were arrowed into a surrounding of a nearby valley, which had -

"This is a village, sir, not a military outpost."

"I'm aware of what it is. The people there have been sounded out, and they are loyal to the French."

"Well who scouted it, sir?" remembering rank-respect at the last moment.

"One Lieutenant Rory Peterson."

Hell, not Rory, Robb thought, he couldn't scout his way out of a cowskin!

"Wait, there's hardly a garrison in this town, even if Peterson's reports are accurate."

"We can't take the chance that they aren't, Helm. We need to show these Frenchys that we mean business."

"Women and children??"

Gulliver looks at Helm. "Were you at [-], son? I saw - hell bell, I was attacked by - women who'd picked up the bayonettes from their dead menfolk...and the children who don't fight today - they'll grow up to fight against us tomorrow or the next day."

"A surgical strike," Robb said flatly. "Is that it? Is that what we've come to in this war? An us-or-them extermination policy??"

Gulliver got in Helm's face - well, technically, he towered over the spy. "If the French are allowed to rebuild, they'll launch an assault on Britain...and with the help of Irish insurgents, this time, they won't fail.

Taking a step back, "You can stay behind, if you so wish," referring to both staying behind in France, as well as staying behind and out of this battle.

TAG!

If nobody takes it, I'll go on....and give Helm nightmares about what's going to happen. *eg* :)