2-25-01
TRIO CHALLENGE: chocolate, a quill pen, a bloody bible
or
QUOTE CHALLENGE: From Maril: "How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child?"
Authors:
Anthony, brig, Dea, Eliza, JoLayne, Lisa, Maril
DREAMS GO ON
By Anthony
[email protected]
THEME: Inspired by the song, "These dreams go on when I close my eyes" by C.Dion(?)
~~~~~
She leaned back against the mesa wall, letting the harsh sunlight seep through her every facial pore. This was the first time she'd ever been allowed out in the light of day, free to roam...this was a treat better than chocolate for a sugar junkie. She was free.
But someone else was not, not now.
She looked in the tranquil water that had pooled at mesa bottom, seeing the face look back at her. The hair was a redder cast to it, and the skin seemed to shift from dark to light and back again. And the eyes...
Her face, yet not hers.
"More vindication for me, how flattering," the Queen quipped, bracing her skull with one hand, and yanking up a cluster of hair with the other. Before her and Tessa's very eyes - the same pair, no less - barbules grew from one, tying it to the rest.
How did you do that? Tessa was curious to know.
A snort from the Queen. "I'm a phantom, remember? A figment from your imagination, and all that."
"Look, I'm sure if we go inside and talk it over, we can come to some sort of an arrangement."
More of a laugh than a snort this time, but still amused, the Queen remarked, "Ahh, you want to negotiate now that it's you in the position...but when it's me, you don't mind so much. Be thankfull I'm talking to you at all." That said, she used the new pen to write something, the lettering in the same hue as the hair'd been.
What??
"Oh nothing much, just the root of trouble for me." And the word was:
|> I |> I C
|> I |> L _ C
"What???" asked a shocked Tessa.
"My source...and the source of your problems.
"Our civilization is founded on that, and everyone we've fought so far, from Spanish ambassadors, to English sea captains, follows that. Show me where I'm wrong - show me an opponent who doesn't trace his or her culture back to that book - and I'll gladly change, gladly submit to your will," with the words `the way you'd doubtlessly intended' gone unsaid.
AND ON AND ON...
SUMMARY: Tessa learns more about the 'royalty' within.
~~~~~
No matter how hard Tessa tried to move her arm, it was not her commands that moved it anymore. She was trapped, worse than when her leg would fall asleep when she sat too long in Madrid.
Why are you doing this? Tessa inquired. Why are you entrapping me?
A shrug. "Part of my job's to see if you're ready - any of you are - to go back."
Go back to where? WHAT are you?
Both of the Queen's eyebrows went up. "And you call yourself a Catholic?!?" A sigh. "Watch," as she lifted one hand, the Queen's whip comfortably in it.
But now the whip was glowing with a sort of fire that didn't burn, a heat that was not physical.
Oh - my - Dios!
"Not exactly, Maria Teresa. Let's just say that the poet was right when he coined `there are more things in heaven and earth than..' shall we?" Tessa answered that with silence, untill -
You're the devil?
Hard laughter greeted that question-accusation. "A mite narrow-minded,aren't you. After all, even if I were, I made it possible for you to do your work as the Queen....I'm just giving equal time to this side of you."
You mean - you're not in control?
A quieter laugh, more somber. "Never was, and I do mean Never."
Tessa digested that fact. She'd trapped herself? Let me out! Tessa demanded, and grew nervous when a smile spread across the Queen's face.
"I thought you'd never ask," was the reply to Tessa.
Tessa found herself alone, still in the desert...but no longer wearing the Queen's outfit. She had the feeling - good or bad - that that set of clothes didn't exist in Santa Elena anymore.
LIFE IS LIKE...
TRIO CHALLENGE #6
By Brig
[email protected]
Marta shifted the basket to her other arm and frowned at the angry red mark the heavy handle left behind. The wretched thing was almost full and she hadn't completed even half her shopping list! Of course this would be the one time Tessa couldn't come with her to help, occupied as she was with cultivation chores in the far vineyard . . .
With an impatient sigh she pushed a sweat-soaked curl from her forehead and took a creased paper out of her pocket. She read down the neat line of items, her frown deepening. One word was underlined several times; Tessa had been most insistent.
("Chocolate, Marta. I know it's hard to find, but surely there's some in town since the supply ship came a few days ago. Please?")
Marta looked at the stall where what passed for confections were sold. The only chocolate available there consisted of chunks of pale brown, crudely processed cocoa mixed with coarse cane sugar and cinnamon, used in making a hot drink with a thick layer of froth--considered a delicacy. With a little honey it was actually quite good, but Marta knew what Tessa wanted. It certainly wasn't a hot drink--not in this weather.
She pushed onward, hope dwindling as she surveyed the few, meager stalls that passed for Santa Helena's market. The sun was climbing into the sky, and she would have to leave soon if she was to avoid the fierce heat of midday. And anyone who had anything as luxurious as a box of chocolates wouldn't leave them out in such temperatures, where they would be sure to melt.
Marta drooped a bit and turned away, to run into something solid. It was a someone, actually--lean and well-dressed, with a faint, spicy smell of lavender rising up from fresh-pressed linen.
"Senora," Montoya's cultured tones were politeness personified, "you look agitated. Perhaps I can be of assistance?"
"Senor," she stammered, flustered and annoyed that she had been caught unawares by this man once again. "I was just--"
"I'm well aware of what you are about," his quiet voice held amusement now. Marta lifted her indignant gaze to his and was further disconcerted to find warmth in the grey depths, usually so cool and distant. "How may I help?"
"I'm not sure anyone can help," she muttered before she thought better of her words. Montoya's brows lifted.
"Is it that serious?" he asked, the humor muted now. Marta shook her head and retreated a few steps. To her dismay the Colonel followed her; he was so close she felt his shirtsleeve brush her arm.
"Marta, please tell me," there was a subtle caress in the use of her name that sent a shiver of anxiety (and, truth be told, excitement) down her spine. "There must be something I can--"
"Tessa--my mistress asked me to find her some chocolate," she interrupted, much against her better judgement. Montoya's pale eyes widened, but he said nothing, and Marta felt her cheeks grow hot.
"It's getting late," she said, and turned to go, disturbed by his presence.
A muscular hand caught hers in a gentle grip, the fingers lean and callused.
"Come with me," was all he said. Much to her surprise he released his hold on her but stayed near, matching his stride to hers as they crossed to the manor.
The interior of his office was cool and dark after the glare of the plaza. Marta set her basket down, self-conscious and uneasy as Montoya moved through a wide door into another room. He came back a moment later with a large flat box in his hands.
"This will solve your problem," he said with a smile. Marta looked at the box but made no move to take it.
"Senor?"
For answer he opened it to reveal what appeared to be a whole galaxy of chocolate bonbons, perfect and gleaming with dark luster. Marta gasped and looked up into twinkling eyes.
"I--I couldn't," she protested. "Senor, this is far too generous of you!" And why are you doing this? The unspoken question hung in the air. Montoya moved to his desk and set the box down. Marta glanced at the desktop. A well-used quill had been thrown down next to what was probably a personal letter. In a shadowed corner lay a battered bible, stained with rusty spots. She looked away, not wanting to pry into the Colonel's private affairs, whatever they might be.
"Life is full of hardships, Senora," the tone was smooth. "My only thought was to give both of you a bit of pleasure."
One glance confirmed her suspicion that she was being teased. Anger rose up, to be replaced by a wish to perpetrate mischief.
Before she allowed herself time to think Marta opened the box and took a bonbon out of the blue satin nest. Even white teeth bit into the confection, dividing it in half. She rolled the rich taste over her tongue in real enjoyment, aware of brilliant eyes watching her every move. With a smile she held out the other half to Montoya.
"A bit of pleasure for you, El Colonel?" she asked, her words sweet and soft.
As if in a dream Montoya took her hand once more, guided the bonbon to his lips, and ate it. Marta just managed not to pull away as a warm tongue touched the pad of her finger.
"Delicious," the back of her hand was lifted for the barest trace of a kiss. "I thank you for allowing me to be of help, Senora."
* * * * * *
It was much later after the evening meal that Tessa lifted the lid on the box and regarded the treasure displayed with shining eyes. As she surveyed the contents, a small frown creased her brow.
"Marta, why is one missing?
"Marta?"
--brig
CHALLENGE STORY #6: THE GOOD BOOK
By Dea
*****
Dr. Helm: So Colonel, ever since this 'chocolate challenge' began you've been quite busy with the ladies of Santa Helena.
Montoya: Is that a touch of jealousy I hear in your voice, doctor?
Dr. Helm: Not after reading the following story, Colonel.
Montoya: Touche, doctor!
*****
Tessa watched the entrance to Dr. Helm's office. She knew he was in there; he'd just returned from a ride through the outlying villages. He was apparently very big on preventive medicine. She remembered when she was a little girl and her father used to tell his workers:
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of caca de vaca."
It always made her laugh.
She was not in a laughing mood today. Two weeks ago the village had been in an uproar when Charles Wentworth had come to town looking for his supposedly kidnapped wife, Camilla. It turned out that not only had Camilla left of her own volition, taking two slaves with her, but she had once been engaged to Dr. Helm. Tessa couldn't quite forget that hollow ache in her heart when she watched the two of them getting reacquainted.
She wouldn't have been surprised if he had left with Camilla. But he didn't leave and when she pressed him for a reason, he had told her. But was it what she wanted to hear? Of course it was! she scolded herself. And she had been an idiot to run from him when she heard it.
But it had scared her. It had scared her more than when he had referred to the Queen as the most remarkable woman he'd ever met. For it was now more than a passing fancy. He'd passed up the opportunity to be with his old love on the off chance that his new one might return his feelings.
Smoothing down the front of her red dress she took a few steps in the direction of his office. She really wanted to be with him, but if she went to him as the Queen, things might get out of hand...quickly.
'Would that be such a bad thing?' she asked herself, remembering the feel of his lips on hers after he'd killed El Serpiente to save her. If she went to him as Maria Teresa, he'd probably mock her, but at least the pressure would be off. And at least she'd be with him for a little while. Madre de Dios, I'm so pathetic!
Swallowing her pride she opened the door to his office.
Dr. Helm was in the far corner of the room with his back to her, reaching for something on the top of a bookshelf. His lean form was stretched very nicely.
"Dr. Helm?" she queried.
"Ah let me guess," he replied without turning around. "You're here with a broken hand?"
"No," she answered uncertainly. "Why would you say that?"
He found the book he was looking for and turned back around. "Oh, I just attributed it to the lack of a knock."
Tessa returned his smirk as if to say, 'I never knocked before. Why start now?'
"I think the reason no one knocks on your door, doctor is because they feel so comfortable with you. You're so open and accessible to the people of Santa Helena."
"I hadn't thought of it that way, Senorita," he answered as he made his way to a pile of what looked like old medical books. Seeing the questioning look in her eyes he said, "Doing a little spring cleaning."
"But it's only February doctor," she grinned.
"It's only a figure of speech Senorita," he replied.
Dr. Helm tossed the book he held onto the pile and asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"
She was about to say her stomach was troubling her--after all she'd already used the headache excuse. The most he would do was give her more sugar water....but then she noticed the book that he'd thrown down.
"Dr Helm! You're throwing out your Bible?" she asked unbelievingly as she strode across the room to pick it up. She turned the volume over in her hands and noted the battered appearance and the various stains on the white fabric covering--grass stains, mud...was that blood?
"The battlefield isn't exactly conducive to keeping anything pristine Senorita," he answered her unspoken question. Taking the book back from her he explained, "After the war started, my mother sent this with me in my knapsack when I left."
"She must've worried a great deal about you," Tessa ventured.
"Yes, I suppose she did," he replied, watching something over her shoulder only he could see. "She wrote me almost every week. I could just imagine her sitting at her old roll top desk, penning her thoughts with her white feathered quill... She figured the good book would protect me from the evils that go along with war."
"It certainly looks well-used."
"It played a part in many a last rites ceremony," he answered, tossing the book back on the pile.
"I don't understand why you'd want to get rid of it," she pressed as she followed him across the room.
"It didn't exactly do its job, did it?" he said a little too abruptly.
"You made it home alive," she countered, hands on her hips.
"But hardly unscathed."
"None of us remains unscathed doctor!" she reprimanded before she realized what she'd said. Seeing the surprised look on his face, she fell back into her Maria Teresa persona. "Besides it's a beautiful book. It would decorate any room."
But now she didn't think Dr. Helm was buying her act. He crossed his arms in front of him and regarded her until she squirmed under his intense scrutiny. Swallowing hard she crossed toward the examining table and said, "It's my stomach that's bothering me doctor."
And at that moment she wasn't lying.
"Too many sweets lately, Senorita? Chocolate perhaps?" he asked glibly as he followed her to the table. "Or maybe it's too much stress. Also a guilty conscience can really irritate the stomach."
"What would I have to be guilty about?" she laughed as he helped her to sit down.
He looked at her but didn't reply.
"Open up please," he instructed as he picked up a tongue depressor. She did as he asked and while part of him was thoroughly examining her throat for any kind of infection, the other part kept trying to remember something. He realized he was staring at her. The shape of her lips...the even white teeth...the smooth unblemished skin of her face. Forcing himself back to the present situation he said, "Your throat is fine Senorita."
Next he gathered up his stethoscope and put it on. He placed the other end on her chest and then frowned.
"What is it doctor?" she asked.
"Well, either this thing is not working," he replied, tapping the end of the stethoscope, "or you're dead, Senorita. And I don't think your dead."
"Oh," she replied relieved. "What now?"
"If you'll forgive me, I'll just have to do this the old fashioned way," he told her as he put the defective device on the desk beside him.
Tessa was startled as he scooted closer to her and then leaned in to place his head against her chest. She held her breath for a few moments.
"You have to breathe Senorita in order for me to do this correctly," he said, not raising his head.
"Oh! Of course, how silly of me," she gasped and took a deep breath.
Madre do Dios!, she thought for the second time that morning. His cheek and ear were smooth and warm against her bare chest. 'Why did I have to wear this particular blouse today?' she berated herself. As her chest rose and fell his soft hair tickled her skin. And she thought there would be no pressure in this visit!
Helm tried to listen to her heart's rhythm but the sound of the blood rushing in his own ears prevented it. He'd never reacted to a patient like this before. But there was just something about this particular patient. And what was that damn familiar sensation that kept washing over him! Some tiny niggling memory at the back of his mind. She smells so nice, he thought. I've smelled that scent before, but...no, that would be impossible....
Sighing he raised his head and for a moment his face was so close to hers she could almost--
"I'm sorry Senorita," he said as he stood up and broke the spell. "But I can find nothing wrong with you. Let me give you this--"
'Again with the sugar water,' she thought.
"Thank you doctor," she said as she took the small clear vial from his hand. "I'm sure this will do just fine."
He nodded and she couldn't ignore the suspicious look that now haunted his green eyes.
"Good day," she smiled and pulled open his office door.
"Good day Senorita," he replied as she closed the door behind her.
Running a hand over his eyes he took a deep breath and walked back to his pile of old books. He traced the scarred cover of the bible with his finger and then picked it up. Walking over to his desk he dropped down on the chair and began flipping through the faded pages. He noticed that one of them had been dog-eared.
He flipped to the marked page and read the first verse that jumped out at him:
"Stop judging by mere appearances and make a right judgement. John 7:24."
Raising an eyebrow, Dr. Helm looked at the door through which Senorita Alvarado had just gone and began to wonder.
THE END
TRIO CHALLENGE #6 - CHOCOLATE
By Eliza
[email protected]
Tessa stood in the antechamber to Colonel Montoya's office. She was trying to look calm and confident in the presence of Captain Grisham but she was being taken by a wave of doubt. What am I doing here? she asked herself as the captain raised his fist to knock on the door.
He paused, and she heard a string of creative curses coming from the office, then a louder call, "Grisham!"
The evil little smirk that flashed across the captain's face as he opened the door was so quick that Tessa wasn't even sure she saw it. But the overly solicitous tone he used to answer his commander strengthened her suspicions. "There's something you need, Colonel? Senorita Alvarado is here to see you." Grisham opened the door wider and ushered her in without waiting for an answer.
She saw that Montoya was holding a handkerchief to his hand and that he was barely controlling his anger. He snarled his order to Grisham. "Get Doctor Helm. I pay his salary I might as well get some use of his abilities."
"Right away, sir." Grisham replied and quickly left the office, closing the door behind him.
Montoya took a deep breath. "Senorita. You have picked an unfortunate moment for what usually would have been a very pleasant surprise."
Tessa had moved closer to the desk and now saw the red drops marring the papers spread on the surface. One had even found its way to the open book nearest her, a well worn bible. "You're hurt! Let me..."
Tessa started toward him but he waved her back as a rueful smile began to appear on his face. "Do not trouble yourself, Maria Teresa. It is not serious, just an annoyance. More of one because of the ruined work and the fact it was caused by my own carelessness." He sat back in his chair. Tessa had refused a seat for herself and continued to wander around his desk. "So distract me from my pain and tell me what brings you here," Montoya prompted.
I wish I knew! thought Tessa, but quickly reverted to the role of Maria Teresa. "I had thought to do some shopping today but there was little to catch my eye. I had some time before meeting Vera for lunch and so..." She let the sentence trail off with a coy glance and tiny smile in the colonel's direction.
"Yet, you did not come away empty handed." He smiled in return to her questioning look and explained, "Your basket is not empty."
"Oh, that. That is just a little chocolate. I always get a bit put aside whenever the supply ship comes in." Tessa perched on the edge of the colonel's desk and picked up one of the quills. There were half a dozen on the desk, and with the added evidence of a bloody penknife, Tessa guessed at the circumstances the accident. She could also see why he would be annoyed at being injured while performing such a mundane task. She ran the feather through her fingers, enjoying the softness.
"I had assumed you were not fond of sweets. You did not sample the wide variety available at the Hidalgos'," Montoya pointed out.
"But chocolate is different. The very best has just enough sweetness to make the bitterness palatable. Too much sugar hides the dark flavours, the enticing aftertaste. Then there is the texture, so smooth that it seems like there is only the flavour itself."
Tessa froze, suddenly realizing what she was doing. She had become so lost in her chocolate rhapsody that she hadn't noticed that she had started stroking her cheek and jaw with the feather in her hand. A quick glance at Montoya showed her that he had. Madre de dios! What is the matter with me?
She stood up quickly, placing the quill back on the desk. She was having a difficult time meeting Montoya's eye. The fact that he was watching her like a cat after a canary was not helping. The sound of footsteps on the stairs gave her a way out and she vowed to light a candle in the church as thanks for the interruption.
She collected her basket and moved to the door. "The doctor is on his way, I will leave you to his ministrations. I hope the wound does not cause you too much pain."
As Tessa opened the door, the colonel replied, in tones as silky as the chocolate in her basket, "I have not noticed it for some time now."
She made the mistake of looking back at him. The hunger was still in his eyes but it was tempered somewhat by a gently teasing grin. Again Fate intervened as Helm and Grisham arrived at the door. With that distraction, Tessa made her escape.
THE END
MONTOYA'S LUCKY GUESS
by JoLayne
[email protected]
TRIO: Chocolate, quill pen, bloody bible
~~~~~
The Queen walked stealthly from the stables to the side door of the Alvarado hacienda so as not to be seen by any of her workers. Inside was dark and she assumed Marta had gone to bed. Looking at the grandfather clock in the living room, she saw that it was well past midnight. She put her sword on the table in the eating room along with the dagger from her boot and the unused Queen of Swords card. Tessa lit a lamp and noticed that Marta must have been worried about her foray against Montoya that day. The rest of the tarot deck was spread out. Tessa hadn't needed to leave the card behind, so Marta will be glad when she will see it in the morning.
The table was cluttered with the tarot cards, the paper, ink and quill pen that Tessa had used to write a letter to friends in Spain that she hadn't finished, a bowl of fruit. She picked up one of the apples and took a big bite as she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Then she saw it; another Queen of Swords tarot card. Tessa's eyes flitted from the card she had just placed on Marta's deck to the other one, not at all knowing where the card came from. Tessa placed the apple on the table and picked up the new card to take a closer look at it. The edges of the card were curled up, it was dirty, there was a crease along the center from it's being carried around for a while. That's when someone grabbed her from behind. A hand clamped onto her mouth and she was shoved face first against the wall. Even though she had been taken by surprise, Tessa elbowed the intruder, only to feel a powerful blow to her back.
Tessa slid down the wall, trying to grasp anything to stop her fall, still trying to unclamp that hand from her mouth. She was lifted and flipped around against the wall. The hand returned to her mouth, as if she was going to scream out. She could hardly get her breath from the kidney punch. With a mortified grunt, she stared into the face of her enemy, Colonel Montoya. His hand slid down from her mouth to her throat. "It is not lady-like to hit," he intoned as he started to squeeze, his breath fanning her face. "Or to disrupt my shipments, Senorita Alvarado. Or should I say, 'Your Majesty'?"
His hand kept squeezing and Tessa clamped her hands on his fingers to loosen them from her neck. He continued with a simmering rage, "Once in a great while, the thought that you were in fact the Queen would tickle my brain, but you've been very careful to cover your tracks. I certainly can not go around accusing a Dona of such a thing. On a hunch, one that has always served me well, Senorita, I came here to find no one in residence. Surprising, for a Tuesday evening, and considering that the Queen was just in my presence miles away."
Montoya's normally vivid, bright eyes had darkened into pools of dark chocolate signifying his burning hatred. His raised eyebrows alerted her to his glee at finally figuring out the puzzle that had perplexed him for months. Tessa was starting to gasp for breath, started kicking at him to move back, release her. How dare he!? I am the daughter of a Don! Who he had murdered! She was getting weaker from the struggle.
Using his entire body, Montoya trapped hers against the wall. With his free hand, he pulled at the lace that covered her face. She kept moving her head from side to side; she was still prepared to tell him that she wasn't who he had correctly perceived was the Queen of Swords. But, he got the lace up over her head. "I always wanted to see your body swing from my noose in the town square, but this is just as sweet." He leaned his face in close to hers and seethed, "You will soon join your pig-headed padre!"
Tessa was about to lose consciousness and recited a quick prayer for her soul for forgiveness for the men who she had to have killed in the line of justice. Then her fighting spirit returned. She maneuvered herself with Montoya's uneasing grip on her throat back toward the table and she felt for anything to use as a weapon. Her sword slid off the table and clanked on the tile floor. Her dagger was too far away. Montoya realized what she was doing but she was fast to take a long, somewhat flimsy, impliment, but it had a sharp point. The quill pen! She gripped it in her hand and shoved the point into the side of Montoya's neck. She could hardly focus anymore, but she did see his eyes flare, his body cower from the unexpected intrusion in his body, but his grip on her neck never loosened.
Suddenly, his head was thrust against hers with a great force, knocking their foreheads together. Only then did his hand fall away from her neck. Both Tessa and Montoya fell to the floor, she settled on top of his body as she gasped for breath clutching at her throat, trying to shake off the stars that floated in front of her eyes. A hand was placed on her back as she started to hoarsely cough.
Marta could be heard saying, "Tessa! Are you all right?"
She couldn't speak, only nodded as she continued to try to get her breath. She was dizzy and couldn't quite focus. Until she realized that she was laying on top of the man who had her father killed, who had just tried to kill her. Tessa rolled off of him and looked up at Marta, who held the humongous Alvarado bible in her hands. While Marta looked at Montoya's body, Tessa couldn't tear her eyes from the blood smeared on the family crest made of gold that adorned the front of that bible that had been in her family for generations. Marta let go of the book, it thud to the ground, it's pages fluttering down.
"I killed him," Marta moaned, her hands to her face. "I was at the campfire and heard his voice when I returned. I didn't know what to do! I killed him!"
Tessa crawled to Montoya's body to check if he was still alive. She leaned down to feel breath fanning her cheek from his nose. "He's not dead, Marta," she hoarsely exclaimed.
"Madre de dios," she said as she crossed herself.
Tessa sat back in wonder. "How did he find out? What did I do wrong?"
Her mind went through the events of the day, as she had ambushed the wagon of arms and rode the wagon to her secret cave. The cave had been a playhouse for her when she was a girl, but was quickly filling up with all the stolen merchandise that she had taken from Montoya, who had stolen most of it from someone else. If there were reales, gold or perishables, she would take them to a poor family of the county, leaving them on their stoop for them to find. The arms... well, she was stockpiling quite the armory.
After hiding the wagon, she released the horses and rode one of them back to where she had left Chico. She couldn't think of any way Montoya could have followed her, she hadn't seen anyone; Montoya always traveled with men, who carried their flags. Easy targets to spot. She couldn't resist tossing out one liners to the men she had to foil, but she hadn't said anything that would make any of them know that she was in fact Senorita Maria Teresa Alvarado. "There was nothing, Marta. It was just a lucky guess on his part."
Marta ran to get some towels to wipe up blood that started to pool at the base of Montoya's neck. Tessa wondered that if Montoya did happen to survive her family crest to the head or the ink filled tip of the pen to his neck, if she would have to kill him. If he knew her identity, her work was finished. Sure, I could just tie him up and pack everything and return to Spain, but Montoya could tell the Spanish court what I've been was up to and they may not understand.
When Marta returned, they turned Montoya's body over and dabbed at the blood from the slit in the back of his head. As Marta pulled out the quill tip, she asked, "What are we going to do, Tessa? I didn't mean to kill him."
Tessa responded, "I know. I thank you. I was almost to the point of--."
"It's too bad he's alive." Marta plotted out, "We could just bury him next to Raoul and if he took his horse over here, you can release it far from here and we forgot any of this ever happened."
"We can't bury him alive."
"You don't think he hasn't done that in the past?"
"I can't think about what he may or may not have done, Marta. He's alive and we have to make sure he stays that way. Ride in and get Dr. Helm."
"He'll wonder what happened here."
"Then we'll have to tell him. We'll have to tell him everything." Tessa looked at Marta, who was just as shaky as she was, and said, "Dr. Helm will understand it all. Go."
Just then, Montoya groaned, startling them both. Both women jumped to their feet. Montoya raised his hand, opened his eyes, tried to sit up, but flopped back down on the floor. Tessa grabbed Marta and they looked at each other, wondering what to do. Neither of them wanted to get close to the man, but were relieved that he was once again conscious. Montoya grimaced as he felt the back of his head and then saw blood on his fingers. "What happened?"
"You fell," Marta quickly replied.
Montoya looked up at the woman and smiled. "What am I doing here?"
His demeanor was completely different than it was the last time he was conscious and Tessa bravely reached down to take his upturned hand. "You came to visit me and fell down. Are you all right, Colonel?"
Montoya shook off the dizziness and smiled up at Tessa. He took her hand and stated, "What a beautiful creature you are. And your name is?"
Tessa looked at Marta, then slowly replied, "I am Maria Teresa Alvarado. Colonel--."
"And that is?"
Tessa and Marta looked at each other again and shrugged. Their smiles glowed as they helped Montoya to his feet. Then Marta whispered, "He could be faking. Watch out."
"Faking what?" Montoya stumbled and they rushed him to the sofa. He fell back onto it heavily and looked up at Tessa and Marta. "What interesting clothing you wear. Trousers." Tessa saw her Queen outfit and ducked behind Marta so he couldn't see her. He asked, "Are you preparing a costume for a masquarade fiesta?"
Silence filled the room. "Yes, Colonel." Tessa slowly said because Marta would only look at her with a look to be careful. "I was thinking of throwing a fiesta. I..."
Marta shook her head, no, then told Montoya, "Excuse us while she changes, Colonel. We'll be right back. Don't go anywhere. You've had quite a fall."
As Marta hustled Tessa out of the room, they could hear Montoya say, "I'll wait." Montoya sat on the couch, holding the back of his head, then realized that his neck also hurt like the devil. "I've nothing better to do..."
~Jo
BOOKKEEPING
By Lisa
[email protected]
~~~~~
TRIO: Chocolate, quill pen, bloody bible
~~~~~
Short uniform jackets of blue cloth. Flannel breeches in three sizes. Assorted brass buttons for fly
closure. Boots. . . . Shaving razors. . . . Sword blades, German, Catalan or Valencian. Bullet
molds. Shot for hares and ducks. . . . Six reams of fine white paper. Two 400-sheet blank books.
Violin and guitar strings. . . . Five arrobas of ordinary chocolate. Brown sugar. White sugar.
Cinnamon. Pepper. Cumin. Cloves. Saffron. A cask of sherry, and another of French brandy.
Three boxes of sigarros?
Colonel Montoya picked up the quill pen and scratched through the "3" to replace it with a more
puritanical "1". It was Lent, after all; Captain Grisham would just have to learn some self-control,
on this point at least.
Children's primers and catechisms for the church. And what was the good doctor requesting for
this shipment? Jalapa. Laudanum. White ointment of plain mercury, for wounds. And sweet
mercury ointment. That was for syphilis, was it not? Montoya made a mental note to inquire
about that. If one or more of this God-fearing town's nonexistent prostitutes was infected, some
action would need to be taken.
"Everything seems to be in order." He picked up the pen once more and inscribed his approval
and signature, then handed the memoria of requisitions to his waiting clerk. "Send this with the
dispatches."
Montoya sighed and leaned back against the carved wooden back of his chair. Surely, he thought, in some corner of Hell his father's spirit must be laughing to see his son, the fine military governor, reduced to little more than one of the scribbling bureaucrats he had scorned so insolently. Or less--a shopkeeper. He opened a drawer on one side of the wide desk and took out the Bible he kept there. His uncle, the soldier in whose gallant footsteps he had followed, had passed it on to him when he was commissioned. He rubbed the rusty brown stains on the cover: the blood of several generations of Montoyas, including his own, spilt in battle or duel. Not in accountancy.
A rough outcry in the plaza broke through his reverie. A pistol shot. And then the inevitable: "The Queen!" Montoya closed his eyes and sighed againas he replaced the book in the drawer. He heard a commotion on the stairs, then a perfunctory knock.
"Colonel--" the soldier began.
"No. Don't tell me. I can guess. Just send Captain Grisham to me when he returns; I'll let him make his excuses in person." Montoya stood and walked over to the window. Outside the dust was just settling behind the pursuing troop. Grisham would fail once more, no doubt. But really, sometimes, considering the alternatives, he could almost thank God for the Queen.
NOTE: The items on this "shopping list" all appear on contemporary requisitions (memorias) and invoices (facturas) from the Presidio of Santa Barbara ca 1800--even the sweet mercury and the violin strings, and especially the chocolate.
QUOTE CHALLENGE #6 - FATHER FIGURE
By Maril
DISCLAIMERS: re copyrights.
~~~~~
Montoya sat on the edge of his rosewood desk, swinging his leg carelessly. But the look he fixed on Grisham was anything but careless. It was as pointed and lethal as a dagger. Finally, Montoya stood up and began to pace his office. He shook his head dolefully.
"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child," Montoya said harshly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Grisham's eyes narrowed as if he was trying to identify the quotation. Montoya shrugged and laughed scornfully. "It's Shakespeare," the colonel said in an exasperated tone. Why do I bother, he wondered, watching Grisham's face as the light finally dawned.
Montoya drew in a long breath and added, "Remember when you tried to kill me by stealing the doctor's medicine? I said it would be your first and only mistake." He saw Grisham turn slightly pale and glance furtively around as if looking for an escape. "Since then, you have conspired with the Spanish Ambassador and connived with a thief to steal gold from me. But like a patient father, I have forgiven you, over and over, and let you live. And do you know why, Grisham?"
"To continue to torment me and blackmail me?"
"That is a side benefit. No. I have plans for us. A great leader needs a right-hand man, someone trustworthy and loyal. Think of all the great men in history. They all had allies they could trust; Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Aramis and D'Artagnan, Robin Hood and Little John..."
"Marat and de Sade," Grisham added helpfully, earning a scowl from Montoya.
"Do not try my patience too far, Grisham." Montoya came to stand in front of Grisham, punctuating his remarks with a few stabs of his finger on Grisham's chest. "I have given you many chances, and all I ask in return is your loyalty."
"Like the loyalty of a dog? You jerk the leash and I jump."
"If you feel a firm hand on the leash, it is only because you have strayed too far," Montoya said smoothly. "Face it, Grisham. Without me, you are nothing. Every time you have tried to betray me, I have found you out. With me, you can rise to unimaginable heights. By giving me your loyalty, you can be the generalissimo of my army when I am ruler of Alta California. You could have a palace of your own, and all the beautiful woman you want."
Montoya smiled with satisfaction at the lecherous look that came into Grisham's face. It was so easy to manipulate a man with such obvious weaknesses. And, Montoya thought, once I reach my goal and am emperor of this new land, I will get rid of this dangerous little monster that I have hatched and trained.
Grisham grinned widely and stuck out his hand. "I'm your man, Colonel. Like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza." And, Grisham thought, when you've made it to the top, I'll be there to knock you off and take over. He grinned again as Montoya's hand clasped his in a fervent grip.
-- Maril
THE LETTER
TRIO CHALLENGE #6
By Maril
[email protected]
This story seems to follow up Brig's excellent Trio #6 challenge -- what happened to those chocolates after Marta brought them home. <g>
~~~~~
Tessa's hand hovered over the chocolate confections, then pounced on a dark shiny bonbon, only to be intercepted by another hand. She looked up in annoyance as the chocolate dropped back into its place in the box.
"Enough. You'll spoil your dinner," Marta said, as she replaced the ornate cover on the chocolate box, and moved it a slight distance away on the dining room table.
The younger woman slapped down her quill pen. She shook her head and with a wry smile, thought, Will she ever let me grow up? Picking up the pen once more, Tessa dipped the nib into the ink bottle, and pondered. Aloud she said to Marta, "This letter to Louisa is taking longer to write than the bloody Bible. I can't think of anything I can tell her." Tessa smiled at the sharp intake of breath from Marta at her somewhat blasphemous mention of the holy book. She enjoyed shocking Marta, not easy to do usually.
Tessa drew a deep sigh, and began to doodle on the paper laying before her on the table. "Louisa's letter was full of the gaiety of Madrid, the parties, the weddings, and all those beautiful people. And now she tells me of her own engagement to Alfredo Carillo. Remember him, Marta? He paid his attentions to me for a while, until I finally had to be firm with him."
"Was he the skinny one with the big Adam's apple?" Marta asked, as she took a chair opposite Tessa at the table.
"No. That was Enrique Varga. Alfredo was shorter than me and a bit plump."
"Of course. After Antonio left for the war, there were so many vying for your hand, I lost track." Marta smiled at Tessa, a bit of maternal pride in her look.
Tessa was silent for several seconds as a wistful expression crossed her face. "Louisa wants me to come to Spain for her wedding next summer. If only I could." She seemed to shake off her melancholy and glanced up at Marta. "Help me with this letter. What can I say that is anything as exciting as her letter?" She laughed shortly. "Dear Louisa, last week we planted another vineyard, several of our cows have calved, the weather was hot yesterday, hot today and will be hot tomorrow." Tessa planted her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands.
Marta chuckled softly. "How about, 'Dear Louisa, you have heard of the exploits of the Queen of Swords? Well, I am she. Last week, I saved ten peasants from execution by the Spanish ambassador, and stole some ill-gotten gold from the military governor, all the while fighting for my life.' Would that be exciting enough for her? It certainly was for me."
"You know I can't write that!" Tessa laughed, her humour seeming to be restored. "Still, you've given me an idea. Perhaps I will tell her about the Queen, as a third person observer. Remember Senor Wellesley's stories? Maybe I'll just write about seeing those events as if I was watching them. Yes," she said, once more recharging her pen, "Louisa will envy how exciting my life is for a change. And I'll tell her she can keep the pink organza dress."
Marta arose and turned toward the doorway. Tessa reached for the chocolate box, only to hear, "No more chocolates until after dinner." The younger woman expressed a long-suffering sigh and with a resigned shrug, began to write her letter.
--Maril