CHALLENGES FOR 4-08-01

TRIO: Fog, Spectacles, A Message

QUOTE 1: "Though women are angels, wedlock's the devil." Byron

QUOTE 2: "If wishes were horses, then beggars might ride." Anon - medevial proverb

AUTHORS:

Dea, Jim, Jo, Julie, Laura, Maril

By Dea
[email protected]

CHALLENGE: fog, message, spectacles

~~~~~

Robert Helm examined the black lace mask as it slid gracefully between his long fingers. He'd been sitting at the small table in his office most of the day, staring at the flimsy piece of material and wondering about its owner. Having found it on his doorstep following Senorita Alvarado's visit, he was inclined to think it had come from her. But how had she gotten a hold of the Queen's lace mask?

Then again, perhaps the mask had been dropped by the Queen during an earlier visit. Lord knows, she came to call often enough--not that he was complaining. Surely someone would have found it before now. Besides, the Queen usually preferred to come through his window rather than the door. No, it had to have been left there recently. The only two people he'd seen that morning had been Senorita Alvarado and Raphael, and he was fairly certain that the peasant farmer had little use for a lace mask. So it had to have been her. Again he wondered what she was doing with the mask....unless--

'Absolutely not!'

"You're mad, Robbie!" he chided himself. "That's about as likely as Montoya starting a Widows and Orphans fund."

Leaning back in his chair he concentrated on the lace once more. It looked like it might be uncomfortable but in actuality it was quite soft. Bringing it closer to his face he caught the faint scent of lavender. Could this delicate thing be all that stood between himself and the true identity of the Queen? Wasn't this what he wanted? Somewhere the Queen of Swords was running around without her mask, and here he was sitting alone in his office staring at a piece of material!

Sighing, his chaotic thoughts returned to his earlier theory, implausible as it sounded. Was it at all possible that Senorita Alvarado had this mask because...she was the Queen? It was a ridiculous thought! Maria Theresa Alvarado the Queen of Swords? True, he was trying to see the senorita in a different light. Trying to see that perhaps she wasn't as spoiled as she pretended to be. But why pretend at all? Unless it was a red herring? If she acted like an over-privileged daughter of a don, surely no one would expect her to don leather and lace and ride through the pueblo like some...avenging angel!

Still, to accuse a young woman of her social status of parading around as a masked bandit probably wasn't a very smart thing to do. He and the senorita were on thin ice as it was. If he accused her and was wrong...he'd never hear the end of it! No, he had to have some kind of proof. And of now, all he had was the mask. As he tapped his fingers on the tabletop the intelligence agent in him surfaced and a wry grin spread across his handsome face.

~~~~~

By the time he reached the Alvarado Hacienda that night there was a light fog drifting down from the mountains. Shrouded in mist, the big adobe house looked almost ethereal. He'd staked his horse some distance away from the building to allow for a quieter advance. Scanning the surrounding area he picked his way quickly toward the barn. Reaching a large bail of hay, he squatted down, his long duster enveloping him as he listened for any sound from the barn. Not hearing anything, he stood up and crept through the barn door.

Helm's footsteps were muffled on the dirt floor as he inched his way along the far wall. What exactly was he looking for? He figured he know when he saw it. He thought he heard a noise and cocked his head to one side. When the sound didn't come again, he started forward once more. He spotted a large opening where two of the walls came together and assumed it led to another part of the barn. His eyes finally adjusting to the dimness inside the building, he stepped gingerly through the opening and suddenly his world went black.

~~~~~

Tessa Alvarado had been unable to sleep. Since returning from Dr. Helm's office earlier in the day she'd been trying to decide what to do about telling him the truth. Obviously it wasn't as simple as she'd thought. The response she'd imagined while in the doctor's presence had been nothing like she thought it would be. Would he really be that angry with her? She had been hiding the truth from him for a long time now. She really couldn't blame him if he did react that way.

Pulling a thin robe over her night gown she had wandered out to the barn, not wanting to wake Marta. Her friend and confidante had warned her of the consequences of revealing her identity to the doctor...or anyone for that matter. When Tessa had let it slip that she'd intended to tell him that morning, Marta became quite agitated. Tessa knew she was only looking out for her safety, but she hated it when Marta was upset with her. When she'd told Marta she had accidentally "misplaced" a mask, the older woman had looked ready to throw her across her knee. After calming Marta down, Tessa prayed that she had lost the mask on the way back through the canyons and not in town. Still it would be difficult for anyone to link her with it.

She was standing in the half-light of the barn, running a brush over Chico's neck when she heard the noise. Instantly on alert, she put the brush down and crept toward the sound. She cursed under her breath for leaving her sword inside the house. Who would come into their barn at night? Bandits? Drifters? Edging along the wall, she caught sight of a half full bag of oats. Reaching down she gripped it tightly and hefted it over her shoulder. Silently she waited until she looked down and saw a pair of boots clear the threshold. Using all her might, she swung the bag up and over. The bag made contact with something and she heard a muffled groan followed by a loud thump.

Releasing her hold on the bag Tessa moved forward to see who had been lurking in their barn.

"Oh no!" she murmured, hands going to her mouth. "Dr. Helm!"

~~~~~

"Well you've certainly got his attention now Tessa," Marta replied, hands on her hips as she stood in the barn overlooking the sprawled out and unconscious figure of Robert Helm.

"Don't just stand there, Marta!" Tessa cried, kneeling beside him. "Use your smelling salts!"

"Did he see Chico?" Marta asked, glancing in the direction of the horse's stall.

"No, I don't think he had time before I...you know--"

"Madre de Dios," Marta exclaimed, "what did you hit him with?"

"Just the bag of oats!" Tessa insisted as she ran a hand alongside Helm's face. His features relaxed in oblivion, he looked just like a little boy sleeping.

Marta went to the bag and pulled open the drawstring.

"Tessa!" she scolded as she brought out the large metal scoop that had also been inside the bag of oats.

"Oops," Tessa cringed.

Shaking her head, Marta knelt down on Helm's other side and unstoppered a small vial. She was about to wave it under his nose when Tessa grabbed her arm.

"Wait!" Tessa said. "Marta look!"

Peeking out from one his coat pockets was a piece of black lace. Tessa reached over and pulled it out to reveal her missing mask.

Marta's eyes widened and she said, "Tessa! You said you lost your mask in the canyon!"

"I said I thought I lost it in the canyon!" Tessa replied, indignity and fear warring on her face. "I had hoped I'd lost it in the canyon!"

"Did Dr. Helm see you with it?" Marta demanded, concern for her Tessita causing her to raise her voice.

"No, I don't think so," Tessa said, trying to remember if he could have seen her with it in his office. "But I must've dropped it! Of course! I dropped it when I ran into Raphael! He had a chicken...I was distracted!"

Marta rolled her eyes and said, "Do you see now why it is dangerous to reveal yourself Tessa? If someone finds out it would mean dire consequences...for you and possibly for others--"

"Alright!" Tessa groaned. "I get the message Marta! I'll have to be more careful."

"You'd better be," Marta replied as she watched Tessa stuff the mask inside her robe.

Marta waved the vial under the doctor's nose and waited for his reaction. In just a few seconds, he was moaning and straining to open his eyes.

"Are you alright doctor?" Tessa asked anxiously.

Mentally swatting the cobwebs from his brain, Helm looked up to see two beautiful, feminine faces staring down at him. Dismissing the possibility of a really nice dream, he tried to sit up.

"Careful, Dr. Helm," Marta warned as she put a hand on his arm. "You had a pretty good knock on the head."

"Yeah, I did," he replied, reaching up to rub his forehead. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry, doctor," Tessa explained. "I thought you were a prowler. I...I hit you."

"With what?" he demanded weakly.

"Just a bag of oats," Tessa assured him, ignoring the look she got from Marta.

"Some damn hard oats," Helm mumbled. Then looking up at Tessa he asked, "You feed that to your horse?"

Tessa smiled nervously and Marta came to the rescue. "What exactly were you doing in here Dr.Helm?"

"I was, uhm," he sputtered, trying to think of a good reason. He hadn't thought he'd have to explain his little house call to anyone. "I was just checking on you ladies."

Tessa arched an eyebrow in Marta's direction.

"You see I heard from someone in town that there were bandits--"

"Bandits?" Marta questioned.

"Yes, bandits," Helm clarified as he slowly stood up, "in this area. So I just thought I'd ride out here and make sure things were alright. You can't be too careful, you know."

"Oh," Tessa said, hiding a grin as she and Marta stood. "And is the barn secured, doctor?"

"As far as I can tell," Helm said, glancing down at the formidable bag of oats, "you're completely safe."

"Well thank you doctor for your concern," Tessa said gratefully.

"Don't mention it," he replied, adding to himself 'ever.' "Well, then I'd best be heading back to town."

"Good night," Tessa called as she and Marta watched him walk out of the barn.

When they were sure he was gone, Marta turned to Tessa.

"He was checking on us?" she said doubtfully. "You know why he was here, Tessa."

"Yes I do," she answered pulling out the lace mask. "But at least he doesn't have this as proof any more."

~~~~~

Helm chided himself on his failed mission as he trudged out to where his horse was waiting.

'Way to go, Rob. Nice job. And what kind of lame excuse was that? Bandits? Checking on them?'

He sighed as he rubbed his head again and grimaced. He was already imagining the cold cloth he'd sleep with on his head tonight. No, it probably couldn't have gone worse. He hadn't found any other evidence to link Senorita Alvarado and the Queen of Swords. But at least he still had the mask.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and flinched. He fished inside the other and came up equally empty-handed. Then he was patting down his coat looking like an old man who'd lost his spectacles. Shoulders sagging, he let out a moan of defeat and swung himself onto his horse.

END

By Jim
[email protected]

Challenge 12 response

Fog, spectacles, a message

Beta'd by: MnD ([email protected])

Characters belong to Fireworks, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera (my apologies to Yul Brenner)

Rating: G
Characters: Q CM H
Synopsis: The Queen helps an enemy .

~~~~~

The full moon lit the dark night as the Queen of Swords raced away from the soldiers. She had been riding long and hard. The soldier's horses had given out, but one of the men was like a terrier. He would not give up. There was still a long way between the two, but still he dogged her trail all night long.

What had started out as a warm evening was turning cold. Her thin blouse was not protection enough as she could feel her nipples harden and every muscle was chilled to the bone.

"Chico, I have to get Marta to make a winter outfit or I will freeze to death."

Chico neighed in reply.

She noticed that the once full moon was neither longer full nor showing. In fact, she was having a hard time seeing where she was going. Then she realized what was happening. It was late; somewhere around 3 A.M. and the morning fog was rolling in off of the Pacific Ocean. It was so thick that she could barely see two feet in front of her. In some places it was a floating fog, foggy where she sat in the saddle, clear to her feet in the stirrups and foggy below.

"This will kill us Chico, if we don't stop. When will that bastard Montoya stop?"

She brought Chico to a halt and let him blow. She dismounted and walked him, all the while listening for her pursuer. Lest she walk right into the ocean, and to throw off her purser, she turned east. As she walked, she realized that she had entered a canyon.

In addition, she heard her pursuer behind her.

"Damnit, that man is a bloodhound." She hurried further into the canyon as quietly as she could. She heard the man stop and a short while later saw a campfire between her and the entrance.

She started shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

A bodiless voice called out from the fog "Would you care to share my fire, my dear, at least until the morning?"

"So you can kill me in the night?"

"You pierce my heart, Reina. I offer you, as a gentleman should, the comfort and warmth of my fire. Watching you freeze to death would not be honorable. I much prefer that we duel it out when we are both at our best. Now please come to my fire and I swear there will be no attack."

"Colonel, you utterly confound me. You chase me all over the countryside to kill me and then you offer me the comfort of your fire. Are you trying to seduce me with your charm?"

"Would that be such a bad thing? You are a beautiful woman, strong, intelligent and sexy. Do you know why you are able to defeat my soldiers so easily? They are lost in your beauty and hesitate when they shouldn't."

"Why Colonel, you are making me blush. All right, a truce. I am too cold to fight right now."

As she came to the fire, Colonel Montoya walked up to her, unarmed. He took off his coat and placed it over her shoulders. They sat by the fire and stayed warm. Soon they were both asleep.

Morning broke and the warmth of the sun slowly climber high enough to warm the canyon.

"Buenos Dias, Reina. Today will be a glorious day."

"You mean that you have already savored my death, before breakfast?"

"My dear, of course I will give you time to freshen up before we begin. There are some bushes just around the bend which will give you your privacy."

"You are quite the gentleman, Colonel. I will be with you in a bit."

True to her word, in a half an hour, the Queen of Swords and Colonel Montoya faced off, swords in hands.

Suddenly their horses became nervous and bolted through the canyon. The two combatants stopped and looked around. The ground began to roll and shake. A low rumbling sound echoed through the canyon. Rocks began to fall, as the tremor became more intense.

"Look out," cried Montoya as boulders rolled and bounced towards the canyon floor. Montoya reached out, grabbed the Queen's arms and flung her away from the wall as several rocks crashed around him. The last she saw of him, he was going down under the boulders.

The Queen grabbed her sword and picked herself up while looking for Montoya. She saw his sword sticking sideways in the ground, but no Montoya. She sheathed her sword and carefully picked her way across the boulders until she found him. He was partially buried under dirt and small rocks. A sudden groan made her move faster. Upon reaching him, she quickly started digging the buried Montoya until e yelp stopped her.

"Colonel, are you alright?"

"That is the dumbest question I have ever heard come out of your sensuous mouth. I just had a mountain fall on me; of course I'm not ok. I think my right leg is broken. The one you are kneeling on."

"Oh I am so sorry, I didn't know." She said quickly moving off the injured limb.

"I trust you are uninjured, Senorita?"

"Thanks to your pushing me out of harm's way. I am most grateful and confused. Why, Colonel? You were going to try and kill me anyway."

"Honor, my dear. I want the honor of killing my most dangerous and most beautiful enemy myself, not some stupid mountain."

"Thanks for the honor, colonel, I think."

"De nada. It will be my cold steel that will end your career not a pile of rocks, if I have anything to say about it."

She ignored the last remark although she flinched at the imagery presented. Carefully, she uncovered the trapped man, taking extra care of the injured limb.

"Why are you helping the man that wants you dead?"

"Honor, Colonel. I want the honor of plunging my cold steel into you, not some stupid mountain," she said with a grin as she threw back his owns words. "I don't want you dead, just an end to your tyranny. You are a handsome, dashing and debonair man. You always compliment me as you try to kill me. That is curious. I must know more. At the moment, though, I will try to find some water, so don't move, you will only cause more pain."

She went toward the mouth of the canyon, hoping to find the horses. She came back in a bit, leading Chico who was carrying an extra saddle. The Queen carried a bridle and two short tree branches.

"Your horse broke his leg and I think the saddle will be more comfortable than that rock you are leaning against. I am going to cut the bridle and use it to splint your leg. Hope you can take the pain, Colonel. It is going to hurt."

"No shit? I am a man, a soldier, of course I can take the pain."

"Well, Colonel, bite down on this bridle and tell me if it hurts."

She pulled gently but firmly on the leg to straighten it out and then tied the splint.

"Are you ok, Colonel? You must be very strong as I didn't hear a single . . ." She smiled as she realized that the Colonel had passed out.

Montoya slowly came awake to find his leg splinted and the Queen of Swords hold his head in her lap and wiping his face with her damp red sash. As he awoke, she placed his head back on the saddle and started to walk away.

"One shot to the brain."

"What?" she asked as she turned to find that she was staring down the barrel of a pistol. "Thanks, I fix your leg and you tell me how you are going to kill me? What happened to your honor."

"Horse."

"Horse?"

"Yes horse, Equus, four legs, big head and a tail."

She threw up her hands, rolled her eyes and looked skyward. "El Senor, does every man have to answer the same way every time I say horse? Men!"

At that moment she spied a glare of light reflecting off of Montoya's sword onto the canyon wall. There on the canyon wall was a hand drawn pictograph of an animal, a horse.

"You, too?" she said as she dropped her hands, shrugged her shoulders, and shook her lowered head. "Men!"

She took the pistol and went back down the canyon. A short while later a pistol shot reverberated through the canyon. Her face was ashen when she returned.

"You can kill a man with no thought, but killing an injured horse bothers you? You are some mixed up women. Like there are two of you behind that mask."

She suddenly stood up straight. "I'll let you rest for awhile while I make a travois. I have to ask you Colonel, why all the tyranny? Surely it can't all be greed."

Sadly, Montoya shook his head. He reached into his uniform blouse and pulled out a letter and a pair of broken spectacles.

"I was going to read this but I guess I'll just have to tell you." Holding up the spectacles. "The dangers of reading to much. If you ever tell anyone that I wear these, I will kill you."

"Is that different that what you want to do anyway?"

"Touche." He replied with an evil grin.

"Please sit down. This is a long story and I am getting a kink in my neck from looking up at you, no matter how sensuous that is."

She blushed as she sat down. "Quit saying that, we are enemies. Are you trying to seduce your enemy?"

"Maybe another time, Reina, but I seem to be hindered with a broken leg. Now may I continue? First, a history lesson."

He made himself more comfortable against the saddle.

"I am sure you don't remember the San Blas. It was the royal supply ship, which brought military supplies and the payroll. Since the war in Europe, the San Blas was discontinued 10 years ago. Since then the crown has supplied no payroll. It all comes from taxes. Since there are no rich Dons or any ranchos to speak of, the soldiers in El Pueblo de San Francisco have not been paid. Every soldier north of Monterey wants to come to Santa Helena. But more about that later."

She offered him the canteen, which he took, letting the water cool his parched throat.

Two years ago, two Americano ships that were commanded by a Frenchman named Hippolyte de Bouchard raided Monterey. His officers were Americanos, his crew were Hawaiians and he carried a letter of Marque from Chile, of all places. They demanded the surrender of all of California. Our brave soldiers replied that they would fight to the last man. They fired their canon and then fled to the Montanas. The Americanos ransacked the town and then burned it to the ground. They later did the same thing at Santa Barbara but our brave Jose de Guerre tricked the Americanos into believing he had more soldiers than he did. Now you know why there are few supply ships."

"Thank you for the history lesson, but that doesn't explain the tyranny."

"I raise the taxes and send half of the money to Monterey. I pay my soldiers from that. Monterey sends the payroll back which is less than my salary. Are my men and I to survive on less than what I am supposed to earn? I don't think so. My soldiers are paid by me the tawdry sum of eight reales or pieces of eight a month. The few married men I have know that their children have shoes on their feet. Their wives are gente de razon.

My benevolence extends to the Dons also. Did you know that it is illegal for Indians to ride horses? I do not enforce this law so the Dons all use Indians as Vaqueros."

He took another drink. "So you see Reina, I am not such a bad person. I help all my people, soldiers and Dons alike. Sure, I have a little larceny in my heart."

He was interrupted by a fit of laughter from the Queen.

"A little, Colonel, you have more larceny in your little finger than all your soldiers together."

"Don't I deserve to be paid what I am worth?"

"Maybe Monterey is paying you what you are worth. Poor misunderstood Colonel Montoya," said the Queen mocking him.

"May I continue? Thank you. The message I received says that Mexico is engaged in a war with Spain. Mexico is on the verge of taking over California as a territory within a couple of years. Then we will have no ships from Spain and we will be stuck here in California."

"That is a fascinating story, Colonel. If I believed you. That doesn't explain the confiscation of lands and the raiding of an Indian burial ground. Sorry Colonel. I think the only truth is in your mind."

Getting up she walked over to Chico and tightened his cinch. Then she tied the travois to the saddle.

"Come on Colonel, let me help you to the travois."

Within minutes, they were off, the Queen riding with the Colonel trying to stay on the bouncing travois.

"What doesn't kill me will make me stronger, Reina. If this ride doesn't kill me, I will be indestructible."

"If you don't stop complaining, Colonel I will race back to Santa Helena."

Montoya growled but kept quite.

Many hours later at twilight, The Queen and Montoya entered the pueblo through the evening fog.

She dismounted and knocked on Helm's door.

"Who the hell are you? Oh I didn't recognize the knock. You must be taking etiquette courses."

"Just shut up and help me."

"Why are you injured?"

"No but Colonel Montoya is."

"Sword slash or bullet wound?"

"Broken leg. We were caught in a landslide during the earthquake. His horse was injured and I had to shoot it."

"Horse?"

A big grin came over her face. "Horse, Equus, big head, four legs and a tail."

Helm groaned.

THE END

By JoLayne
[email protected]

TRIO: Fog, spectacles, a message

~~~~~

Tessa awoke with a start and jerked up on her bed. Her mind was in a fog, not knowing where she was, then realized that it was before sun-up. She could barely make out the faint shapes in her bedroom. The dream she had about her father was so intense, it was like he was talking to her, only she couldn't make out what he said. They were in their living room in Madrid; she and her father were dressed in their best clothes. The Don was delicately sipping port from a glass then he tapped her hand when she tried to get a glass of her own. It was only then that Tessa realized that she was younger in her dream than in real life. In her dream, she was having a conversation with the Don, but she had no idea what had been said, or what she had even thought while talking. The dream should have been heart warming, a lovely memory for once. Whenever she had dreamt of her father since his death, it was always as a warning of what was to come or would be him urging her reveal his killer to the world. This dream was like a lullaby. There hadn't been any danger, no ominous warnings, his voice wasn't harsh from disappointment or persuasion. His voice wasn't heard by her at all.

Just like when Tessa has slowly lost touch with the memory of her mother, who died so many years before, when she couldn't remember her mother's voice, or the feel of her warm hugs, her laugh, it saddened Tessa to understand that it may be happening with her father and that was what the dream was about. She could clearly see him, but he was starting to fade away. How she wished she could see him again, just for an instant, in the flesh. How she wished that she could rise from her bed and through the house, and into her father's study to see the Don. If she were to see him, she was sure that he would be wearing his spectacles as he would be either reading a favorite novel, such as Don Quixote, on his leather chair in the corner or writing letters to friends, relatives, fellow Dons, or the Spanish court at his desk.

Tessa couldn't stay still any longer. She got up out of bed and put on her robe, then walked through the house to the room that she had hardly used since returning to Alto California. The door opened with a squeak as she walked into her father's study. At that moment, she knew that it would never truly be hers, there was too much of her father in there. His collection of knives that she hadn't touched since she accidently cut herself when she was seven was still on the far wall. The head of a tiger that he had killed while on safari in Africa was on the opposite wall. The collection of paperweights that Tessa had given him each year on his birthday lined the edge of the desk. She didn't know if he had ever needed a paperweight, or even wanted one, but when he had been so happy to receive the first one, she had been sure that he wanted the second, and the third. Tessa smiled when remembering her father's face as he would once again unwrap another paperweight on his birthday. He had kept them all. His desk in Madrid looked just as this one in California did, lined with paperweights.

Tessa stood at the desk, her hand lightly touching the two elegent quill pens in the center of the line of paperweights. The desk wasn't dusty; Marta must have been keeping it clean. As if he would return again, or in case Tessa would use it one day? All of the important papers were taken from that room after Tessa and Marta had arrived and were kept in a wooden box in the parlor so Tessa wouldn't have to enter her father's sanctuary. It had always been too difficult in the past, to be in that room without her father.

Thinking back on the dream, she wondered what it meant. That it was a last gasp of her father's memory in her head was too sad. There had to be more of a reason. Tessa bucked up the courage to sit in her father's chair. The cushion groaned when she did, the leather crunched. She moved her back against the seat and then rolled herself forward to the desk. Putting her hands on the leather blotter, she tried to get more of a feeling of her father than just smelling the leather that seemed to permeate him while he was alive. The leather smell was comforting, but it was musty as well.

Tessa felt herself get hot, flustered, like she was going to cry, as she silently plead for her father to give her a sign, tell her what he needed to tell her, what the dream meant, what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that he was proud of her, that she was moving in the right direction, that everything would all turn out right in the end.

Suddenly, the door opened wider and Marta made her appearance. "Tessita? What are you doing up so early and moving around in here?"

Tessa brushed a tear from her cheek and looked up at the woman who had taken her mother's place in her heart. She said, "I am waiting for a message."

END

By Julie
[email protected]

TRIO CHALLENGE: Fog, spectacles, a message
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine, etc.

~~~~~

Old Mark stepped out from his lodgings and pulled his scarf tight around his neck, trying to keep out the cold. It was yet another battle he seemed never to win. The cold was always there, stealing through the cracks in the walls, biting at his fingers, creeping into his bones and joints and reminding him of every old wound. And making him forget that he'd ever known a place of endless summer.

Whiskey, that was the weapon he need to fight this foe. The bottle in his room had gone mysteriously dry, but he had a few coins, enough to warm him at the Black Adder. He preferred the Black Adder to the tavern on the corner, though it meant a bit of a walk.

But it would be full of old men, men with beards even more grizzled than his own, men who never begged to hear the stories that were lies. They never asked for the stories that were true, either, but when he had a need to tell those, they listened and nodded their heads in silent acceptance.

He walked along the wharf, familiar territory now. He knew every twist and turn despite the fog obscuring his vision. Knew every corner where a thief or cutthroat might hide. He paused in his journey and faced the Atlantic, dark and obscure now. He could hear the waves beating against the sea wall, could feel the salt in the stiff breeze, but he could see nothing. Still, he looked, as though if he looked hard enough he could see the sunny shores of Spain.

He pulled the letter from his pocket, liking the feel of it. He couldn't read it now. Even if he had light, he'd left his spectacles back in his room. But it didn't matter. He'd read it a hundred times and knew it by heart.

"Dear Capitan," it began. When was the last time anyone had called him that?

"It is my sad duty to inform you that my mother, Dona Vera Hidalgo, passed from this earth on 18 July 1852. The Lord was merciful and took her into His arms with little pain. Her body rests with my father in the family mausoleum in Seville."

He tried not to think of her in a cold, dark tomb. He pictured her in the sun, surrounded by flowers. Like the time he'd stolen roses from the Colonel's garden for her. He smiled ruefully at the memory of the act and its consequences. It had been worth it.

"My mother asked me to send a message to you. She said, 'Tell him I forgive him. Tell him I am sorry, and please, please, ask him to forgive me.'"

Oh Vera, what was there to forgive? You were an angel traveling in a woman's life. That you could forgive me, that you could even care for me, think of me with kindness, it's more than I deserve.

"I do not understand my mother's request, but my promise to write you gave her great comfort, and I would not deny her spirit any comfort. I hope you will do her the same honour.

May God go with you,
Marcella, Baroness Wurtenburg"

Baroness. The girl had done well for herself, and he was sure Vera had been proud. It was important to her that the child have rank and wealth and privilege, all the things she had lacked growing up, all the things Marcus could not provide.

He refolded the letter as carefully as he could. Between the old aches and the cold, his fingers didn't work as well as they used to. He looked again to the east, to the nothingness of the ocean.

"I shall drink a toast to you, Vera, to the finest woman who ever walked this land. And to you to, Marcella. Go with God, child, and do your daddy proud."

END

By Laura
[email protected]

TRIO and QUOTE CHALLENGE: 4-8-01

~~~~~

The fog had rolled in early and had not departed all day. The town feared the show might be canceled. But fear not, the show continued. All the unperforming characters stood around holding torches to keep the place lit for people to see.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry for the fog. One of our little ladies thought a fog would get her away from doing her spot. Out as they say the show must go on." The ringleader stood back. A group of acrobats came out.

They did juggling and flips and things. Maria Theresa looked over the crowd the Doctor had arrived as well and sat on one of the local window ceals. Tessa glanced at all the other people in the Square, when she looked at her, it was crowed, as it was before when they performed.

~~~~~

Helm looked over at the crowd. Maria Theresa Alvardo was looking at him again as he noticed her she looked away. He pondered in his head to why she was looking at him. Robert looked over the crowd again. Senora Vera Haldiago gave him a seductive smile. He smiled back to her then regained his attention to the performers. The jugglers were finished and the next act came on. A rope was set up between to stands. Two performers walked on with swords in their hands. They bowed to the audience then got to it.

"Unguard."

"Thanks for the warning." The two began to slash about.

"You killed my mother, you killed my father, you killed my dog, and you ate my horse."

"Yes well, if wishes were horses, then beggars might ride."

"Oh how dare you." The two slash about again. The fighter who just spoke hit the other fighter. The sword was tucked under his arm and may it look painful then fell the short distance to the ground. The other man held his hands in the air.

"I am invincible." He jumped down next to the man he head played with. The other man got up beside him. The two bowed and walked off. The ringleader came back on clapping.

"Wonderful balance and god performance of daring. Speaking of daring. The next act is it." The ringleader went on and on. A hooded man approached the doctor. He handed him a message and left.

~~~~~

Marta looked around on the street they had taken over as their local. She was looking for the gypsy woman. She walked into the tent where she was the other day. The cards were laid out. THREE OF SWORDS. NINE OF SWORDS. WHEEL OF FORTUNE. Marta realized that all these meant doom, but then Marta walked back to see how Tessa was doing.

~~~~~

"During the daylight fog we set up a line between these two building." Pointing to the hotel and to the church. Senor Hidalgo straightened his spectacles to get a better view. "Now ladies we need total silence. This is a dangerous stunt. We only have nets as small areas. Not all is covered. So we need absolute silence. " The man pointed up to the hotel. A pair of mirrors reflected the light from the torches up on her so the people could watch.

"Our Lady to perform this act. Our muse, Linthia." She raised her hands in the air at the sounding of her name. "Now remember complete silence. Ready!?!"

"Yes!"

"Any request!?!"

"Keep that damned light on the ropes!" The ringleader smiled back to the crowd.

"Though women are angels, yet wedlock's the devil. Now remember complete silence." With that Linthia took her first step onto the wire. The crowd's gazes stay stuck on the Muse. Marta's attention was taken back to the ringleader. The gypsy from the stand was talking with him urgently. The ringleader looked up at the girl in shock. He called over another performer and pointed to Linthia. He ran off grabbing another performer. The ringleader talked back to the gypsy. She got down on the round and drew a circle around her. A prayer circle she realized. Marta looked back to the Muse. She was midway past the first net. She was now over the space between the two. Marta lent over to Tessa.

"Something is going on." Tessa looked over at her. Marta just gave the look of danger. Tessa looked up to the rope. It was swaying but looked of no risk. But then out of the corner of her eye she spotted a black figure. The rope swayed a little more and she kept her balance. Tessa looked back to the dark figure. The man was cutting the rope by the small glint of reflected light. There was a snap

~~~~~

When you look out over the crowd from here they seem so small. I am always amazed at that I am amongst these small things on this huge earth. The rope sways and I realize the thrill that I dare the life that I risk. My life I risk here for show. I am nothing but a, but a Muse. A singer of songs, an entertainer, a bastard daughter. So what is life except a simple thrill. Why do I walk here? I hide many secrets. They all catch you in the end. The rope sways more but not from me. I look back and see one of those many secrets. I move forward trying to get to the other net before they are done their job. I am such a small person. I am just an entertainer. Shakespeare had written the best line. 'All the world is a stage and all the men and women are simple players.' I guess my game's chess. I'm on that board and that queen is soon gonna stare me down. The rope twinges. He got through one of the layers. The crowd looks unworried but worried. Scared for themselves as well as for me. I feel another twinge.

CHECKMATE

TBC

By Maril
[email protected]

DISCLAIMERS: Fireworks owns them but doesn't deserve to.
RATING: G (for ghost)

~~~~~

It was one of the most amazing spectacles he had ever seen! Montoya stood transfixed by the vision as he stood upon the shore in the early morning chill. His gaze was directed at something far out on the ocean, beyond the combers that foamed over the reef, beyond the dark swells that billowed like blue satin in the weak sunlight, to the fog that shrouded the far horizon. Limned in the soft grey mist was the vague outline of a ship under full sail. From his vantage point, it looked ghostly, ephemeral. He felt his chest expand with longing as he watched the spectral ship which seemed to float eerily between ocean and sky. Like my dreams, he thought desolately, drifting elusively away just as they seem within sight. All my ambitions come to nothing, thwarted by Fate, by a masked woman who is determined to destroy me.

Montoya compressed his lips into a hard line, grimly remembering the cause of his being sent to this dreary outpost. Falsely accused of collaborating with the French during their occupation of Barcelona. I was only trying to keep the peace between the occupying army and the citizens. If I was a little harsh with the Barcelonians, it was only to stop the French from being more so. No one understood my intentions or believed me. Only my mother's title saved me from a worse fate than banishment to this hellish place. He sighed deeply as he watched the ship gliding southward. It's probably sailing back to Spain, he thought wistfully, as I wish I was able to do.

For long moments, Montoya contemplated the ghostly ship as it moved slowly across the horizon. The sound of hoofbeats on the strand made him turn with annoyance. A soldier rode up and leapt from his horse, then ran up to the colonel and snapped a smart salute.

"What is it?" Montoya rasped out irritably. "Can't a man have a few minutes to himself?"

The soldier swallowed loudly, and croaked, "I have a message for you, Colonel."

Montoya's shoulders sagged. He could guess what it was. "Well, give me the message, you idiot!"

"Senorita Alvarado asked me to tell you she is waiting in your office with the fine to pay for her worker who was arrested yesterday for drunkenness." The message came out in a great rush as if the soldier was glad to be rid of it. He watched the colonel warily, waiting for his reaction. It was not what he expected.

"Tell her I will be with her in a few minutes," the colonel said, world-weariness edging his tone. He turned to gaze once more at the ship, but it had vanished into the mist. He laughed shortly, but continued to watch the horizon, hoping for another glimpse of the ship. Somehow that vision seemed to tug on his soul, reminding him of the younger Montoya with his head full of dreams and heart full of passion. Now he felt dead inside except when roused to wrath. The only passion I seem to have left is rage, he thought morosely.

He didn't know how much time had passed before the sound of sand being scuffled brought him back to the present. Glancing to his right, he saw Senorita Alvarado trudging down the beach toward him, a grim expression on her face. He felt a moment of guilt, then annoyance. He remained where he stood, determined not to give way to her.

"Colonel Montoya," she began a little breathlessly. "I waited for you and you did not appear. The time for the punishment is getting close and I am here to pay the fine." Her voice was tinged with exasperation. She added, "I think Pedro has been punished enough for his misconduct. A night in your horrid jail and the sickness that followed his excesses will have taught him a lesson. There is no need for a flogging."

Though she tried to keep her voice reasonable, Tessa heard its hard edge and watched Montoya reacting to it. But I have to try, she thought in desperation. She noted the set of the colonel's jaw as he stood more rigidly and his cold eyes flicked over her. He is obstinately opposed to me for some reason, she mused as she searched for a way to ameliorate the cruel punishment that awaited her worker.

"Colonel, if you persist with this flogging, my worker will be disabled for days. There is much to do on my hacienda, and I can't spare even one man. Please, accept the fine, and dismiss the punishment."

"Senorita Alvarado," Montoya began patiently, "If I let him off so lightly, what message does that send to others? That they can do as they like and others will pay the price? The peons are like children. They require a firm hand, and as you seem unable to wield it, others must do it for you. The flogging will go on as planned, as much to punish the drunken peasant as a warning to others. Now, I must return to my duties to oversee the disciplining of your errant worker." This last was said as a rebuke and he observed with grim pleasure as Tessa recoiled slightly.

"Take half of the fine, and give half of the punishment, Colonel," Tessa persisted. She reached out to restrain him, and pleaded with her eyes. Marta had told it would be useless to reason with him, but Tessa would not give up so easily. She could see him considering, perhaps relenting. She watched his eyes warm slightly as they passed over her and wondered what he was thinking. A warm flush rose to her cheeks as it occurred to her that he might think she was offering herself in exchange for a pardon for her worker. She removed her hand from his sleeve and stepped back a pace.

He smiled grimly. "I accept your terms. Give the money to Grisham. Now, I must return to the pueblo to see to the discipline." He walked toward his horse, then turned. "Are you coming to watch, Senorita?" He saw her chin come up haughtily and her dark eyes flashed angrily at him. Why would she be interested in that bloodless English doctor, when she could have a Spaniard to unleash that passion that is always seething below the surface? A man like myself who knows the ways to please a woman, he thought, as his hot gaze slowly took in the way her breast rose and feel deeply with emotion. If only ... he left that thought unfinished as he waited for her answer.

"No!" she snapped, then more moderately added, "I will come to the doctor's office after he has attended to Pedro's wounds, then I will take him home in my wagon." She clenched her jaw and turned to look out over the ocean. The sound of hoofbeats diminished and Tessa's spirits dropped to a low ebb as she contemplated the fate awaiting her poor worker.

On the horizon, she saw a ship emerge from the mist, its white sails billowing in the warm breeze. Reflectively, she watched as it sailed south, probably on its way back to Spain. I wish I could be on that ship, she thought longingly. When I was in Spain, I had no responsibilities. I did as I liked. Now, I have so many burdens, it sometimes seems unbearable. A hacienda to run, workers to pay and their demands to attend to, and of course, the Queen's obligations and risks. What would it be like to be on that ship, free at last of all these cares? Like that ship, I am following my destiny, into whatever storms and perils it may lead me. Tessa sighed heavily, trying to keep her thoughts from what was happening in the pueblo.

Sunlight caught the sails of the ship suddenly, creating a radiance almost hurtful to look at. Will my future someday be as brilliant as those sails, she wondered hopefully.

END