Epilogue

Tessa

Stupid, stubborn, pig-headed idiot! What had Roberto been thinking? The soldiers had come after Tessa as soon as she shot off Grisham's pistol to distract, but soon turned their attention back to getting into his quarters. Once they did that, her pursuit slacked off considerably. She had done all she could; Roberto was on his own. She heard horrified shouts, even as she dumped Grisham's pistol in Colonel Montoya's latrine. She liked the irony of the disposal site and didn't think anyone would think to look for it there. Then, she went to ground and waited.

As her anger cooled (it took several hours, even after she spotted the soldiers carrying Roberto, bleeding on the dirt, to his office) she had to admit that what made her angriest at Roberto was that he had pulled the trigger first. Never mind that Grisham had had her in his sights. Never mind that Roberto had probably saved her life. Never mind that he had had as much cause as she did to kill Grisham, maybe even more. He had known how much finding her father's murderer meant to her and he had still lied to her for months, still had shot Grisham dead right in front of her. The sheer arrogance of the man! Well, he was paying for it now.

And she was not the least bit sorry about Marcus Grisham, she told herself firmly to still that little voice that regretted his death. He had killed her father in cold blood. Yes, he had only been the hired assassin, but he had still done it. She only regretted not killing him herself. She hoped she would have better luck with the Viceroy--once she got the name of his contact in the royal court back in Spain out of him, of course. Your full vengeance must wait a little longer, Papa, but at least I'm closer than before. Forgive me. I did not realize the road would be so long.

She stayed in town until well past nightfall, lurking near the doctors' office. The soldiers would be out looking for her anyway, and even as angry as she was, she wanted to make sure Roberto had pulled through. She tried not to think about him dying. She had glimpsed the wound cauterisation through the window and it had not been pleasant. He'd probably limp for a long time after that, maybe for the rest of his life, even if the wound did not fester.

After darkness fell, she lingered outside the window of the surgery. Just when she thought it was safe to go inside to check on Roberto, she heard a knock on the door out front. Pirenne, who had been sitting with Roberto, got up to answer it. "Colonel Montoya," he said. "I'm surprised to see you here so late."

Floorboards creaked as Montoya entered the house. "I came to ask about your patient, Doctor. How is he?" Tessa ducked down so that he could not see her and followed the noises they made along the wall. She could hear their conversation clearly as Pirenne led Montoya into his office. Pirenne, being closer to the window, came through more clearly.

Pirenne's voice was grim. "He will live, at least through the night. If there is no infection then I trust, God willing, that he will even recover, eventually. But I cannot say for sure just yet."

"Hmm." Montoya sounded neither pleased nor upset. "Quite the day we have had, don't you think, Doctor? My capitan killed outright. Your colleague seriously wounded." Something clattered on a table. "And all because of one woman, it seems. Do you recognize this, Doctor?"

"This is the knife with which poor Robert was stabbed. It looks like a throwing dagger of some kind," Pirenne said in a neutral tone. "But I do not recognize it, no." Tessa winced. Roberto had tried to warn her about leaving such an obvious calling card, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. It had certainly drawn Montoya off the right scent.

"Your colleague would. He used it to kill a bandito by the name of El Serpiente two years ago. It belongs to another bandita, the Queen of Swords."

"I see. I know of her only by reputation. Are you saying that she stabbed Robert?"

Montoya chuckled. "It would seem that someone at least wishes for me to believe that. However, it does not solve the mystery of my capitan's death, for Grisham was shot, not stabbed. I will need to speak to Dr. Helm about that." Damn. So, Montoya had not been drawn off after all. He suspected Roberto.

"But of course." Pirenne's tone was agreeable, with just the slightest edge. "However, that cannot be tonight. I have given him laudanum to help with the pain. He will not wake before morning, perhaps not even then." Tessa felt a pang. She had hoped to speak to Roberto, but if he was unconscious that would be impossible.

"A pity. I will come back then." Tessa heard Montoya's footsteps retreat to the door, then pause. "It occurs to me that with my Captain of the Guard is dead, I am lacking a right-hand man."

"Indeed." Pirenne's tone grew wary. "Surely you can promote one of his subordinates to that post?"

"I could, yes. However, none of them possesses the necessary...attributes to properly support my position as Grisham did." Montoya paused. Tessa felt sure it was for dramatic effect. "I suspect, Doctor, that you might possess those attributes."

Pirenne coughed. "You are offering to make me your right-hand man, Colonel? I am most flattered, but I must decline. As a Frenchman, I trust that I would do you little good and it would certainly shorten my life to work so directly for you."

"Too true." Montoya's voice took on a musing tone as Tessa heard the door open. "Perhaps I shall ask Dr. Helm tomorrow if he would like the position--if he lives. He did, after all, do an excellent job of eliminating his rival."

Tessa clapped a hand over her mouth to smother her cry of shock as Montoya went out the door. Then, feeling as if she had woken out of a nightmare, she stood up and hurried around the side of the building to catch Montoya as he came down the steps. She came up behind him. Once she approached within a few feet, she said, forcing her voice to casualness, "I'll take that dagger back, if you don't mind."

Montoya turned slowly. "Mi Reina. I thought you might turn up. Your attachment to our dear Dr. Helm has not gone entirely unnoticed." Her dagger dangled from his hand, as if he had forgotten it, though he made no move for his sword. Wary, she tapped the pommel of her own blade. He laughed. "You may relax, Reina. I have no intention of calling the guard. I was merely calling upon a sick man. Certainly, you may have your dagger back."

He tossed it underhand. It landed, point-first, at her feet. She crouched down and retrieved it, keeping her eyes on him. Straightening up again, she said, "I must confess, Colonel, you seem very calm about this. I'd think you'd want me to hang for killing the Captain of your Guard." She could just see the smile that touched his face in the light that came from the doctors' office. "I think that we both know you were not the one responsible for Marcus Grisham's death, much as I would love to hang you for it. However, the night is young. I could yet change my mind."

A chill of anger went through her, making her shiver. Do you really think I would let Roberto hang in my place, Colonel, guilty or not? "Before you make any decisions about your captain's death, I'd suggest you ask the Viceroy why Grisham was working for him and not you."

Montoya went still. "The Viceroy? What about him?"

"It seems that Grisham has been taking orders from Monterey, not Santa Elena, all along." She watched the growing anger on Montoya's face with great satisfaction. How far could she take this new gambit?

"You have proof of that?" His voice was deceptively soft.

She nodded. "Yes, but I prefer to keep it to myself for now." She smiled bitterly. "Considering our history, I'm sure you can understand that I don't trust you to keep it for me."

He cocked his head to one side. "If you trust me so little, why tell me?"

"Let's just say that this once, we seem to have the same enemy." She tried to make the admission sound flippant, but her voice cracked on the last word.

Montoya was silent for some time. From the direction of the stable, Tessa could hear a horse whinnying and kicking his stall. "You must love him very much," he said finally. His voice was cool, with no obvious compassion to it, and yet the observation made her squirm. "You wish for a truce between us? For how long?"

"As long as it takes for us to determine who our true enemies are." She must be mad to think that she could ally herself with Colonel Montoya! But many things had changed today. Grisham was dead. Roberto was a murderer and wounded nearly to death. Why not ally herself with Montoya? Her true enemies lay elsewhere--in Monterey and in Spain. She would need all of her strength and skill and courage to reach them.

Montoya shrugged. "Very well. I will see to it that the investigation into Marcus Grisham's death remains unresolved. And what will you do for me in return, Mi Reina?"

"I will give you the means to bring down the Viceroy." She had no idea how she intended to do it, but as she needed to, anyway, she might as well offer it to him. "Who knows? You might even make Viceroy yourself eventually."

"Who knows?" He sounded amused. "I might at that."

She stared at him, suspicious of his easy acceptance. "You seem very ready to give up any justice for your Captain of the Guard, Colonel. How do I know you aren't plotting to make me swing for his death?"

Montoya laughed. "Of course I am plotting to make you swing...eventually. As for Grisham, he was becoming a dangerous liability." He held out his hand. "So, Mi Reina. Do we have a bargain?"

Telling herself that she wasn't making a deal with the Devil, Tessa stepped forward and shook his hand. "Yes. We have a bargain."