P-O-W

by Rodlox
[email protected]

SEQUEL to: 'The Dragon Returns'.
CHARACTERS: Grisham, Alvarado; minor Montoya and soldiers.
NOTES: "Past and Present often intermingle...but do they ever truly merge?" Once again, thanks to Jim. {though the Thin Man would like a word or three with you later}.

~~~~~

"How could such a beast exist?" Tessa asked herself. After picking herself off the beach, she'd headed for this old and abandoned mine shaft to do some thinking, alone. It just made no sense...how could Kami speak with such ease to that - that thing??

"Well, it looks like we meet again." Grisham's voice.

The Queen looked up at him. "Were you following me here? You know, a girl could get the wrong impression from that sort of behavior."

"Well, I don't want to do that, certainly."

Whether she'd forgotten momentarily where she was, or just overestimated the strength of the walls, the Queen snapped her whip...The rocks fell, first blocking the entrance...

And then they bowled Grisham over, pinning his legs down. The Queen fell on her duff from the shaking and tremors.

When the falling was over, and the dust was starting to settle, Grisham looked behind himself as best he could. "Aw hell," was all he muttered. Looking at the Queen, who was starting to stand up again, "Well, this is what you were waiting for, isn't it? Go ahead and kill me."

"I don't kill wounded men," she retorted.

"Paco Gomez," Grisham recited, "three ribs broken when you threw him from a stage - two days later, you threw him from a cliff."

"He shouldn't have been there; it wasn't my fault."

"Now that's familiar," Grisham muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

~~~~~
OUTSIDE NEW ORLEANS, 1811:

"You shouldn't be here," Mark Grisham told the green recruit.

"After listening to you and me da go on and on about war and victory," the thin man answered, "how can you be so surprised to see me?"

Mark stayed quiet.

Quiet even when the ground seemed to explode, killing most of the unit, and knocking the remainder into unconciousness.

~~~~~
PRESENT:

"What're you doing?" Grisham asked.

"I'm taking the stones off your legs," she answered. "Why, what does it look like?"

"Why're you helping me now?" curious.

She thought about that. She just answered, though, "To get to the entrance easier."

As she removed the rocks, he didn't curse, which surprised the Queen more than anything else. He didn't scream or wail or cry for mommy...he simply bore the pain with the quiet fortitude of one who's on familiar terms with recieving pain.

It took a few minutes for her to remove all of the rocks save for the one largest. "Problem?" Grisham asked when she stopped and took a few steps back.

"Yes," she said, frowning at the problem. "If I just roll this last one off, it'll crush your leg. I can't pick it up, it's too big for that."

"'Give me a fulcrum big enough,'" Grisham quietly quoted.

"'...and I will move the Earth,'" the Queen finished the Greek saying, then nodded, understanding what he meant. "I'll be right back," and headed for the back of the cave.

Once back there..."Some rocks, pretty colored stones, something that's either an attempt to cook seaweed or a failed herb garden...I don't see anything of use here."

"Dammit!" Grisham exclaimed vhelmently. "Not again!"

The Queen walked back up to him. "'Again'?" she asked, no sarcasm in her voice now.

~~~~~
OUTSIDE NEW ORLEANS, 1811 AD:

"For the tenth time," the Scottish accent asked him, "where are your troops heading?"

Mark Grisham III just looked at him, his face carefully schooled not to reveal anything. He also didn't say anything.

"You'd let yourself be killed before telling us anything, Corporal Connery commented in his Scot brogue. "But what about your responsibility to your men?"

Silence, aside from narrowing eyes.

Corporal Connery, the foreign officer in charge of the inquisition here, sighed. "Fine, have it your way. Lieutenant, approach the other prisoner," and the Lt followed orders, stepping closer to a frail American soldier. "You have ten seconds to start talking, or this young man will have the priviledge of meeting his maker."

The frail one started saying rapid-fire prayers in Latin, his whispering voice shaking. Grisham just didn't say anything, though he did shoot a withering look of 'shut up, idiot' to the frail one.

"Nothing to say still?" Connery asked. "You had a chance. Lieutenant, two blows to the legs, not the knees or ankles....yet."

Frail had his eyes wide at those words, though he squeezed them shut as the oak board decended.

~~~~~

"There's a rake back here," the Queen told him at a volume that didn't threaten to bring the ceiling down.

"Can you bring it over here to pry this rock off me?"

There was a pause, which did not help calm Grisham's frayed nerves. "No, I can't."

"Why not?" trying not to panic.

"Because it's a cave painting."

Grisham would have dropped his head down, had there not been big and painful rocks under his head and neck. "Mama said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this, ma mama said," Marcus muttered. "Yeah, over and over and over again, perhaps it'll be all right....though I doubt it."

~~~~~
OUTSIDE NEW ORLEANS, 1811 AD:

The medic had just left the tent, nodding to the soldiers stationed outside it.

The frail American coughed, his legs and arms battered and bruised. He hoped that his nose didn't start to itch. "You coulda said something, you know."

Mark Grisham III looked over at the frail one. "I can't surrender the war, and all America, just to protect you. We may be cousins, but don't you dare forget all our brothers in arms who've died fighting the British."

Frail coughed again, not wanting to know how that drop of blood got in there - surely he hadn't been slapped that hard across the face. "How could I possibly forget? You and dad, always talking about our duty... And now here I am."

Mark's face was hard. "You want sympathy? Hmm? You want me to tell you it'll all be over soon? Well I can't, cousin. So just suck it up, and hang in there. We have a mission to perform, and by God, we will."

"Will reinforcements be coming soon?"

"I can't say."

"You don't know??"

"As in the Brits are listening, genius." A disgusted sigh. "You know, you couldn't be a halfway decent soldier if you tried, cousin; that's not an offense - just a fact."

~~~~~

Marcus Grisham was woken not-so-rudely up when Tessa toed him. "Huh, wha?" and he heard the sound of iron grating against stone. Looking behind himself the best he could, he saw that she was moving a steel pipe into position to lift the boulder enough.

"Where'd you get that?" Grisham asked nicely.

"From a back room in the cavern system," the Queen answered. "I think this place was home to a monk...and he died here."

"Swell precedent," he muttered, trying not to notice the other swell in the room, and ground his teeth as the rock was lifted. Using his arms to push himself forwards, he moved out of the reach of the rock when the Queen let it back down. "Thanks."

"No sweat."

"So," Marcus said as he tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, "there was a monk here?"

She nodded. "Yeah...though I think he had issues."

Grisham raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

Tessa bit her lip before answering. "There was a pearl necklace in there."

Marcus just shrugged. "So?"

"So?" asked the girl from the society that'd brought out the Inquisition. "So, he - he - he was -"

"A she," Marcus figured.

"A nun? A nun," she said, prefering that belief.

"Stranger things have happened." Mostly in my life.

"I'll take your word on that, capitan."

There was a sound, something echoing in the back corridors of power. Only later would they discover it was a rogue donkey -- for now, it was enough to startle the Queen off-balance.

Losing her balance, she fell duff-first into Grisham's lap.

The force of her landing - and the pain in his legs, which she'd landed in part on - was enough to make Marcus's eyes bulge to the same degree as the Queen's cleavage, but then returned to normal. "Well," he said, letting her make the first - or was it the second? - move.

"Well," the Queen said, willing to let him be the one to try something.

"Well well."

"Well well well."

Grisham's inner voice snorted and demanded to be allowed free reign; he let it go. "You have pretty hair."

Tessa raised an eyebrow. "Where did that come from?"

"Don't you like your hair loose and relaxed?" he asked, half-thinking that he'd been dragged to too many parlours by his upper-crust-society mother.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked a concerned Queen.

Marcus just smiled, and leaned towards her.

And they kissed.

~~~~~

"Well well well, capitan," Montoya said in greeting, "it would appear that you have captured the Queen's mare."

"Yes sir, I did," he answered, not sure he could have trusted himself not to laugh had Montoya said 'ass' in either Spanish or English.

"Did you catch her?" Montoya asked as Grisham made his way out of the cave, assisted by several soldiers.

"She sorta gave me," coughcough, "slip, sir. But, if it's any consolation, I," coughcough, "her off her feet."

Montoya looked cautiously at Grisham. "You should go see Doctor Helm immediately, Capitan. That cough is certainly not a good sign; and I do not wish my garrison to fall victim to it." The soldiers holding Grisham up suddenly looked aprehensive about the long road back to Pueblo.

"Yes sir," Grisham said, finally able to snap off a real American salute without falling into a flashback. "Though I did manage to get this," and pulled a Queen Of Swords Tarot Card from his pocket.

"All the troubles plaguing this land can now be at an end, capitan, for you have the answer to it all," Montoya quipped.

SEQUEL to: P-O-W
NOTES: the trilogy comes to a close. Tengu in Japanese myth were tricksters and [oft annoying and troublesome] teachers.

In the tradition of _The Outer Limits_: "We are often taught to remember the past, and learn from the lessons in it. But what if the past we know is not entirely true?"

{admittedly, i use the same trick with the killer as I do with jacob and job and their kin[d]}.

~~~~~

Thus far, Dr. Helm's prediction of Montoya wearing a kimono in public had not come true. Kami had been given a house of her own not too far from Montoya's own residence. There were far fewer Kami/Montoya rumors than there were of Queen/Helm.

As this was a day with important things to be done, and he had a plan, and was already late for both, Grisham came rushing out to the plaza, paying more attention to buttoning the last buttons than to where his next foot was going. This was understandable as he was on a donkey due to his lower body damage.

When the Captain stopped, Montoya asked him, "Another late night rondevous, capitan?" Kami was not far behind him, silent and observant, dressed in an acceptible blend of Japanese and Spanish clothing.

Grisham gave a half-nod. "Yes sir, you could put it that way."

"I already have, capitan," Montoya deadpanned. Kami smiled inside, her external face stoic.

Just then, the Queen of Swords raced through the pueblo. Montoya noted that she was riding an appoloosa this time instead of her usual stallion.

The soldiers fired after her as she was leaving - Montoya counted three, no, four, shots. "Are you teaching them frugility now, capitan?" he asked rhetorically.

"Soldiers," Grisham shouted. "About face!"

The armed men did as their commander instructed, and turned around...pointing their rifles at Colonel Montoya.

"You would not dare," Montoya said. Kami stepped forth, joining him at his side. "Wait," he told her.

"The odds are in our favor, Colonel," Grisham said. "Consider this a bloodless coupe. Step down and hand over control."

"To you?" Montoya asked. Grisham nodded. "I think not."

"We asked nicely."

Then came a sound, heavier than a tiger, but richer than thunder, softer than an earthquake.

"Indeed you did, Capitan. But surely your experiences with the Queen have told you to discount mere numerical superiority."

A cold wind blew, forming enough dew to soak uniforms and jam rifles. Most of the wind landed on the soldiers and Grisham, though Helm's clothes also became clingy.

Grisham grimaced. "Soldiers, shoulder arms!"

"'Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge,'" the dragon quoted in a way that sounded rather sarcastic.

"Where did you learn that prhase?" he asked, not sure where it was.

And then it was visible.

The tatsu would have shrugged, were it's head and shoulders closer together. "Some insipid Jesuit...humans say most anything when facing death." Dragon facial muscles can't approximate smiles or frowns, so they couldn't tell how the tatsu meant that...but Montoya nodded, having held that opinion before.

The sound of a horse racing towards them...and it was the Queen. "Steady," Grisham hollered at his men. "Don't be distracted," at which the Queen smiled.

"I trust you have a good explanation, capitan," Montoya said in a flat voice. "Otherwise..."

"Tell them," the Queen said.

Marcus Grisham nodded. "I know who killed don Alvarado, and who's been playing us all like drums lately."

Montoya spread his hands. "You have our full and complete attentions, capitan, please, continue."

"It was a few years ago..."

~~~~~
FLASHBACK:

"I'm sure she'll like these," Marcus said to himself, picking the lovely flowers for an even lovelier dona. Then his eyes fell upon a solitary sprig of blue blossoms surrounded by a sea of white blooms. The symbolism, not to mention the appeal, was absolute...and Grisham wasn't sure whether to pick them or bring her here.

While he was torn in his decision-making, he heard the sound of hooves approaching. The sound was coming from on high, so he turned around and looked up at the mesa some distance behind him.

Pulling his pocket telescope out - so he could tell friend from foe as best he could while at a safe distance - he looked up and watched; fortunate that the sun wasn't in his eyes. As he looked, he frowned: What's don Alvarado doing up there?....And who's that chasing him?"

Gunfire echoed through the air, but Grisham recognized the sound of only one shot - not a duel's two or a battle's retaliatory strike. Just one.

The killer looked down into the valley, solid black. So black was it that Grisham's eyes had trouble focusing on it. Somehow, it was as it it wasn't entirely there.

But there were two red eyes. Solid red, not merely bloodshot.

~~~~~

"Look!" one of the soldiers stated, pointing to the top of the Church. Many people looked briefly - then looked at it again, not believing their eyes.

It was the allblack that Grisham had just mentioned. Firey red eyes were the only feature visible on the body that one's vision just rolled off of...until the arms were lifted.

All eight of them. A piercing wail also went up, from a mouth unseen on the inky body.

When the wail died down, it spoke in a high voice. "This is not yet over...."and it faded from sight.

A thundering rumble answered it, and Montoya had the feeling that tatsu was giving chase to it...as said dragon likewise faded from sight.

"'Follow love and it will flee, Flee love and it will follow thee,'" the tatsu advised them as it left. Grisham nodded and bid the Queen a pleasant day and left. Tessa just blinked bewilderedly. Dr. Helm nodded and started making plans for his vacation alone.

~~~~~

"Marta?" Tessa called out when she came home. "Marta, you won't believe what happened to me in town today. I -" and she saw a piece of paper that'd been torn from a book.

Picking up the paper, Tessa read Marta's scrawled apology to her, and a request to forgive Marta's breach of her trust. Tessa turned the paper over, wondering if there was a second part to it.

The other side had two words. In Marta's writing, Mother....and in the bold typeface of the book, Kali.

END