AN UTTERLY OUTRAGEOUS, FAR-FETCHED ADVENTURE -

IN WHICH THE QUEEN AND THE COLONEL BATTLE HERETICS, SURVIVE AGAINST IMPOSSIBLE ODDS AND ENJOY A TENDER MOMENT OR TWO

By Julie
juliewriting@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMERS: The characters aren't mine. I just take them out to play.

RATING: PG (A little smooching and violence)

~~~~~

Colonel Luis Montoya struggled against the ropes that bound his arms and the hands that pushed him forward. He wished he could see, but the dark bag was pulled tight over his head. Breathing was difficult; gaining a sense of direction was almost impossible.

He knew only that he had been transported a long distance, east from the feel of the sun. Now the sun's heat was gone, and the cold night had descended like a raptor, its wings blocking out light and hope. The colonel could hear horses up ahead and knew they had reached a rendezvous point. he was alert for any clues to the identity of his captors, any chance of escape.

"Is he seriously injured?" Montoya's ears pricked up at the sound of a voice, the first intelligible words he'd heard since morning. The voice was cultured and smooth, but the accent odd. "Excellent. We want him to be healthy for tomorrow's events. You may uncover his head now."

A hand yanked the bag off his head, and Montoya breathed deeply, grateful for the fresh desert air feeding his body and sharpening his mind. He looked around quickly, searching for the source of the voice, but all he saw were a dozen disembodied eyes staring at him from the darkness. A chill went down his spine. He quickly realized the men around him were swathed entirely in black cloth that blended into the nightscape. Still, the initial impression of endless staring eyes refused to leave.

Hands prompted him to move forward again. He was getting extremely impatient with all this being shoved about. "I demand--" A sharp jab in his gut cut short his demands, and Montoya opted for a strategy of silence.

The army of eyes marched him to another wagon and pushed him toward the back. A dark shadow moved in the far corner.

"Who's there. What do you want?" A woman's voice this time, strong and Angry. And familiar.

A lantern was raised by the black-shrouded driver of the wagain, casting a pale light on a cascade of dark tresses, flashing eyes and that damned lace mask.

"You!" The colonel bellowed. "I should have known this was all your doing!"

Montoya tried to lunge, but insistent hands pulled him back and secured his arms to the wagon while others tied his feet.

"What do you -- hey, watch those hands!" The Queen of Swords jerked ineffectively as one of the men moved behind her.

Montoya could see she was bound hand and foot. It should have been a cheering sight, would have been under any other circumstances.

********

Tessa awoke slowly, wondering why she felt so stiff. She raised a hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes and felt the lace of her mask. She began to focus and realized she was on a hard mat, not her own soft bed.

The events of yesterday began to filter back to her. A wounded man. A trap. A swarm of men all dressed in black. Too many and no place to run. She wondered where they had brought her. None would speak to her, and she had paid rather dearly every time she'd tried to ask a question. She grimaced, rubbing one of many fresh bruises. She wasn't even sure if they could answer her. Except for the man with the mysterious voice and Montoya, she hadn't heard anyone speak Spanish.

Montoya. The ache in her head spiked as she remembered the glare he'd given her before they were separated last night. Somehow or other, she was sure this was all his fault.

Tessa leaned back against the cool adobe wall and considered whether the Colonel could be behind this. He'd certainly looked like a prisoner, but that could have been an act. But why? If he'd been able to capture her, he'd either have killed her immediately or taken her to town for a public hanging. She recalled the bruise on his cheek and the nasty cut above one eye and decided the Colonel must be as much a prisoner as she. He wasn't above acting a part, but his vanity would never allow for that much realism. His abduction had probably been similar to hers. Except the bait had probably been some poor fool's last reale.

*******

The Colonel was thoroughly sick of being shoved about. First into that wagon, then into that wretched cell and now down this hallway that was apparently made for midgets. He shifted to avoid a sconce with a burning torch and bumped one of his escort. The man promptly shoved him into the wall, and Montoya gave him a look that could cut through steel. He thought he saw something flicker in the man's eyes, a hint of fear. Good, the little beasts are human after all.

It took all the Colonel's self control to continue down the passage in silence, but he knew the key to this situation must be the man with the voice. He would save his energy for him.

At the end of the hallway, Montoya was pushed forward sharply. He heard the solid click of the door being latched and locked behind him. There would be no escape that way, and the Colonel turned his attention to the room before him. It was large and bare of furniture with only one other door directly across. On the floor before him was his sword and dagger. He snatched up the weapons just as the Queen was shoved through the opposite door.

She recovered her balance immediately and grabbed her own sword and whip, which had been left for her. She was quick, the Colonel had to admit.

"Welcome friends."

The voice. Montoya whirled to discover its source and realized there was a dim balcony overlooking the room. The man's face was hidden within a heavy cloak, and all they could see of him was one long-fingered, bony hand grasping the rail.

"Who are you and what do you want?" The woman's voice sounded shrill, and Montoya clenched his jaw, irritated that she had asked the questions first.

"Who I am is not important. What I want is you, one of you anyway."

"Which one and for what purpose?" Montoya asked the question quickly, too quickly for his own liking, but he wanted to wrest control of this interview.

"Which one? That is entirely up to the two of you. You have your weapons, you have your arena. You shall fight, and the one who survives will serve my purpose."

"We shall fight, and you shall watch, is that it?" Montoya asked smoothly. "You realize, of course, that the gladiators went out of fashion a very long time ago."

"Yes. Pity."

"And what happens to me once I kill him?"

Montoya struggled to control his irritation. The woman had no patience, no sense of timing. Not to mention no sense of the odds.

"If you are the victor, then you shall have a glorious future." The man spread his talon-like hands out in an expansive gesture. "Brief, but glorious."

Montoya didn't like the sound of this. "Precisely what glories await the winner?"

"The victor shall be bathed with the finest oils, fed the finest foods and clothed in the finest garments. Every comfort, every pleasure will be provided."

"Quite an honor." Montoya turned, trying to catch the Queen's eye and warn her against any more verbal blunders. Fortunately, she seemed stunned into silence. God had not completely abandoned him.

"Such honor cannot be given lightly."

"No, it cannot." The voice was fairly purring now. "Such honor can only go to a warrior, one who has defeated his - or her - enemy in mortal combat. Unfortunately, true warriors are scarce in this day and age. Men study healing, not killing. And when they do kill, they cower behind cannons and rifles, never going hand to hand with their foe. It is a tragedy."

"Quite," Montoya murmured sympathetically. It was always best to humor the insane.

"The tragedy of these modern times has driven us to extreme measures, thus your transport here. I trust you both can overlook the inconvenience now that you can see what we are offering."

"Certainly." Montoya shot the Queen another warning glance. He treasured the expression of shock and the touch of fear on her face. "And what, pray tell, is the ultimate honor for your warriors?"

"Union with the god, of course. What greater glory could there be?"

"What indeed?" Montoya needed to think. Killing the Queen would hardly be worth being trussed up as a sacrifice to some madman's god.

The Queen stepped forward. "This battle, it must be a true battle against one's true enemy, no?"

"But of course. Anything less would displease the god."

"I would never wish to displease your god," the Queen said, sounding completely sincere. Montoya was sure she had almost as much skill in deception as she had with a sword. But where was she going with this? "I fear there may have been a mistake. You see, the Colonel is not my enemy."

A short burst of laughter erupted from the balcony. Montoya had never heard a less joyful sound. "My lady, I did not realize you were a jester as well as a warrior. Everyone in the territory knows how much you hate one another."

"A carefully choreographed ruse, I assure you. Do you *really* believe that a woman such as I could operate if the Colonel was not providing support?"

Montoya had to admit, it was an excellent lie. He would appreciate it more if she could keep that smirk off her face.

"If you are such friends, why are your weapons at the ready?"

Montoya bit back a sharp retort and looked over to the Queen. Their eyes met in a momentary truce, and slowly, they sheathed their weapons.

"I do not understand," the voice said from its perch. "Why, Colonel, would you allow such a thing?"

"Many reasons. With the Queen at large, my requests for resources are given high priority by the crown. Besides, I have strong sense of mercy, but I am often constrained by the harshness of the law, the requirements of my office. With this lady to do my bidding, justice can be served and my position preserved." Montoya placed a hand around the Queen's shoulder and gave her a smirk of his own.

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes. The Colonel is a remarkable man. There aren't many willing to look like an incompetent for the sake of a greater good."

Digging his fingers deep into the Queen's shoulder helped Montoya keep his smile firmly in place.

"I am still skeptical."

Montoya resisted the urge to scowl and instead turned toward the Queen. Touching her cheek, he said, "I assure you, sir, I could not possibly wish to harm this woman, this gem, this beautiful treasure."

"Convince me."

Montoya clenched his jaw. "Make it look good," he hissed as he leaned down to kiss the Queen.

*******

Tessa's eyes flew open in shock as the Colonel's lips descended on hers. Her first instinct had been to pull away, but the Colonel's arm had tightened around her shoulders, holding her in a vise-like grip. His free hand was along her jaw, holding her face captive.

She'd been glad the Colonel had understood the story she'd created, had been willing to play along with it, but she'd never expected him to embrace it quite so enthusiastically.

His kiss was intense, demanding, relentless. Tessa was finding it hard to breathe, and she placed her hand on Montoya's shoulder, in part to steady herself. She knew she should be responding, should be acting her part, but she was finding it hard to think it all.

He pulled back slightly, releasing her lips for a moment, but keeping her firmly within his embrace. She looked up and almost didn't recognize him. The eyes she'd always seen as cold were smoldering, burning through her. Without a thought, she snaked her arm around his neck and pulled his lips toward hers again. He responded with an even deeper kiss, parting her now eager lips, teasing her tongue with his. His hand dropped from her shoulders to her waist, to her hips. He pressed her close to him, and she could feel the tension, the strength, the power emanating from his body. With his right hand, he tipped her face closer to his. His fingers were caressing her hair, twining through her tresses ...

And tugging at the ends of her mask!

Tessa pulled free with a jerk, landing a weak punch to the Colonel's jaw as she did so. She had her sword unsheathed in a heartbeat and found Montoya's weapon ready to meet hers. She glared at him, wondering how she had ever imagined passion in those eyes. They glittered like ice now.

"I'm crushed, my lady." Montoya licked a spot of blood from his lips and gave a cold smile. "I've never received complaints about my kisses before."

Tessa could feel her cheeks burning. She wanted some vicious retort, some stinging remark that could cut him down. She slashed with her sword instead.

Montoya parried, and they began a dance, circling, striking, parrying, finding their rhythm, each watching for weakness in the other. Tessa could lose herself in the passion of the fight as easily as in the passion of the kiss.

Nothing else penetrated her awareness, until the voice. "Kill them both."

The Colonel and the Queen both paused and turned to the balcony.

"What?!" Montoya had given up his smooth questioning and spit the word out with fury. His hair had come loose during the fight. Or was it during the kiss? Had she done that? He had a wild look about him that Tessa had never seen before, that she found compelling. She had to remind herself that she hated him.

"The god requires warriors, not cowards who would use deception to avoid their fate. You must be eliminated."

With that, the man turned away from the balcony, and Tessa saw the door beyond the Colonel opening.

"Behind you," she warned.

"And you," he answered, and Tessa whirled as the men in black swarmed through the door. She and the Colonel were back to back and fighting well, but they couldn't hold them all off forever.

"Work your way toward the door." Tessa heard the Colonel's hiss through the whizzing of blades.

Tessa began directing her blows more strategically, trying to open a path. She was making progress, but leaving herself more vulnerable in the process. She could sense more than see one of the men approaching from her left, but she had to deal with the one in front of her first. She finally sent the one flying and then spun, expecting to face a brutal blow. Instead she saw the man impaled on Montoya's sword.

"Thanks," she said, making her dash for the doorway.

Montoya was right behind. "Don't expect me to make a habit of it."

They made it through the door with their opponents all on the opposite side, all except for one poor fellow's hand. Tessa made a face as the Colonel dispatched the hand and latched the door.

"Come now, your highness, I wouldn't expect you to be the squeamish type."

"Let's just get going. It'll take them a little time to circle back around."

Tessa began running down the hall, but the Colonel paused to grab one of the torches and lit the tapestries that hung on the wall. Smoke began to fill the hall, providing some cover and a diversion. They reached a second hallway and could hear footsteps coming toward them.

Tessa looked around, frustrated. "Which way to the outside?"

"I don't know. But I think they'll tell us. Now hush."

Before Tessa could respond, she felt the Colonel's hand over her mouth, and he dragged her into a small alcove. It was a tight hiding spot, and Montoya pulled her hard against him, his right arm wrapped tight around her waist, his sword pointed down, pressed against the length of her leg. Tessa pulled her own sword down and out of sight and tried to still her breathing. Her heartbeat sounded outrageously loud. She couldn't hear the Colonel, but she could feel his breath on her cheek.

The guards thundered past and then the hall was silent again. Tessa twisted her head so her mouth was free from the Colonel's hand. "They're gone. We should move again."

"So go. I'm not stopping you." The Colonel spoke directly into her ear and then his tongue trailed a little path of fire across the back of her lobe. Tessa shivered and then realized that the Colonel was telling the truth. He had released his grip, and nothing was holding her there but her.

She darted into the hall and hissed, "Come on!" When she turned to be sure the Colonel was following, she saw an odd smile on his face, as though he were laughing at his own private joke.

"If we're to get out of here, we're going to need disguises. We're a little conspicuous right now."

"Any suggestions?" Tessa asked sharply, irritated that he was right, irritated by that patronizing tone, irritated that she could still feel where his hands had been just moments before.

"Just watch for an opportunity. And when it comes, try not to get too much blood on the clothes."

The opportunity came quickly, only there were four instead of a convenient two. It did give them a better choice of garments.

"Do I look like a murderous religious fanatic?" the Colonel asked once he was covered head to to in black.

"Murderous anyway," Tessa answered, regretting the blood on her sword. She felt the Colonel's hand on her wrist. He turned her toward him sharply and looked at her hard. She could not look away.

"They were trying to kill us."

Tessa spat back, "And we were trying to kill each other!"

A strange look passed over Montoya's eyes, and Tessa wished she could see the rest of his face, to try to understand.

"Yes. Well, first things first. Let's find the stables."

*******

It had been fairly easy to find the way out of the building, only Slightly more difficult to sneak past the guards and find the stables. For once, the Colonel appreciated the Queen's ability to slip through his dragnets. Most of the guards were still searching the main building and fighting the fire Montoya had started in the hallway.

"It doesn't look like our friend was planning any trips today," the Queen said, noting that the horses were out in the corral, but unsaddled.

"Of course not. We were supposed to provide all the day's entertainment."

Montoya surveyed the area and frowned as he realized there were several workers in the stables. Getting past them would be sure to draw the attention of the guards. "Getting horses saddled would take too long. How do you feel about bareback?"

The Queen's voice registered some surprise. "It's not a problem for *me.*"

"Good," Montoya answered sharply, irritated at the woman's doubt, at the arrogance of the young. Didn't she realize he'd been a skilled rider before she was even a gleam in her father's eye? "Pick your mount, and I'll get that gate open. I think you know how a little stampede can facilitate an escape, no?"

He was sure she was smiling under the disguise. He could picture the full red lips, those surprisingly soft and yielding lips. It was a shame to have them covered by the guard's mask even for a moment. He would have to explore those lips again before this was over.

The Colonel crept to the gate and when he saw she was safely atop a jet black mare, he opened the gate wide and grabbed the gelding he'd selected. Once he was up, she urged her horse into action and drove the horses out of the corral. They had to act quickly now. The guards were alerted and running toward the corral. The crush of horses gave them only momentary cover and shortly they had broken away from the others and were racing for the desert. They both crouched low over their mounts' necks as bullets whistled past.

Luck stayed with them long enough to get them out of range of the rifles, but several of the guards were pursuing on horseback. They rode hard for another mile, but could not shake their pursuers. Finally, Montoya slowed his horse and turned.

"What are you doing?" the Queen shouted.

"Better to face your opponents on ground of your own choosing," Montoya answered, stripping off the black mask. "This is a good spot."

"Better to just outrun them!"

"Run to where? They know the territory. We do not. There are only three of them. If you'd like to keep running, go ahead, but I will fight." Montoya pulled his sword out with a flourish and smiled at the Queen, feeling quite sure she would not abandon him, not when he was outnumbered. He heard a sigh, but then she, too, stripped off her borrowed mask and unsheathed her sword.

The guards were on them quickly. Two went after the Queen and one faced the Colonel. Montoya wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or insulted, but had little time to consider the question before the blades started flashing. When his opponent was unhorsed and fatally wounded, he turned his attention to the Queen. She was off her horse and fighting well, but in trouble. Her blade sliced deep into one of her attackers, and she turned to face the other, only to find that Montoya had already dealt the final blow.

"This is getting to be a habit, Colonel."

"Just get on, and let's get moving." He reached out an arm, and she was behind him in an instant, her hands resting on his hips for balance. The other horses had run back toward the compound when they lost their riders. It would be too dangerous to try to get one back. They rode for several miles, keeping up a good pace and trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and their abductors. When the presence of some cottonwood trees alerted them to a spring, they stopped for a short rest.

*****

After all the hours of exertion and tension, this tiny spring felt like heaven. Tessa brought the icy water to her mouth in cupped hands and drank deeply, letting the excess run across her face and down her neck. She soaked the end of her sash and used it to wash away some of the dirt and the blood the day had brought.

Tessa looked across the spring and found the Colonel was watching her. He, too, had made use of the water and was looking more like the gentleman she was used to and less like the wildman of the arena.

"So what now, Colonel?"

"Now we get back on the horse and keep heading west. Unless you want to wait for those madmen to show up again."

Tessa stood, wanting an excuse to look away from those pale eyes.

"That's not what I meant. What now between..." She stumbled on the words, confused. Something had shifted, and she couldn't quite grasp it. "This morning, we were ready to kill one another."

"That is true." Montoya's voice was calm, patient. It was the voice he used for Maria Theresa's questions in the town square. Didn't the Queen deserve better?

"So are we going to finish it?" Tessa regretted the words even as they flew out of her mouth.

The Colonel merely rose and walked calmly to the horse. "I am tired. I am sore. Santa Elena is yet far away. I killed at least six men today. Two of them to save your life." The Colonel mounted the horse. "Is that not enough for one day? Should we not save your question for the future?"

Tessa did not answer, still feeling confused and sorry she had said anything at all. Mutely, she accepted the Colonel's outstretched hand and swung up behind him.The rode for almost an hour before Tessa ventured to speak again.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what I said earlier."

Montoya paused for a moment before answering. "Your question was a valid one. Ill-timed perhaps, but valid. Amazing that you can have such exquisite timing with your sword and none with your words."

Tessa did not respond, and Montoya leaned back and twisted so that his face was near hers. She could see his eyes clearly. "Do not take my criticism harshly, Mi Reina. You are young yet. *If* you survive awhile longer, you will no doubt master the skills of a true queen."

He resumed his position, and Tessa stared at his back in consternation. "I do not understand you at all."

"And that puts you at a distinct disadvantage. Because I understand you quite well."

Tessa lapsed back into a moody silence, alternating between indignation at his arrogance and honest confusion about all she had experienced. The Colonel did not interrupt her thoughts for many minutes, but at the crest of a small hill, he halted the horse. He twisted again, his face just inches from hers.

"Here is where I shall take my leave, Senorita."

"What?"

"Less than half a mile from here, there is an outpost. Small, no more than a dozen men, but it will be enough to bring our abductor to justice."

"And you're just going to let me trot back to Santa Elena?" Tessa was stunned. She'd been racking her brain trying to think of ways to slip away from the Colonel once they were close enough to home.

"It is a question of timing, my dear. If I do not act at once, I will lose my opportunity to capture the mad heretic who kidnapped us. He will move his base of operations."

The Colonel gave an enigmatic smile and touched the Queen's cheek gently. She stiffened, but did not pull away. "I trust, however, that you will stay close in the future, that we shall have ample opportunity to answer your question, one way or another. In the meantime, I promised myself one more taste of those lovely lips."

Before Tessa could respond, he leaned in and took his taste, his kiss brief, but suggestive, full of possibility if only she wished it. But she couldn't possibly want what the Colonel offered, could she? Tessa shook her head as Montoya slid gracefully from the horse.

"Until we meet again, my lady." And with a quick bow, he began walking toward the outpost.

THE END