Bad Dreams

Disclaimers: The characters from the Queen of Swords are copyright to Fireworks Productions and Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended or revenue expected from their use. The story plot and other characters are copyright to the author, James Guy

Synopsis: A bad thunderstorm triggers some bad dreams

The normally peaceful Alta California night erupted in an unusual lightning storm. Rainstorms were common, but savage lightning storms were not the norm. Minor rumblings of the approaching rainless storm disturbed the sleep of several residents of El Pueblo de Santa Elena.

The man tossed and turned while his brain churned. Bullets and canon fire whipped overhead shattering the morning fog. The eerie sounds of the bagpipes made it evident that the 93^rd Scottish Regiment had landed.

The shrill scream of a canon ball coming toward him made the man duck behind the bales of hay. The ball splintered a tree behind him and he rolled for several feet, just in time to see the top half of the tree crash into the bales. He got up and fired his musket at the enemy. The enemy fired a volley and the man heard the mini balls strike the revetment. Aiming his musket, the man fired, reloaded, fired and reloaded. Three rounds a minute.

A defender next to him received a bullet to the shoulder and fell, blood spurting. The man aimed his musket and fired. He held his musket still as he followed the mini ball. It struck the soldier in the forehead. The soldier’s face showed shock as blood oozed from a round hole before his body started to fall forward.

Cannon balls exploded on both sides as the batteries erupted, spewing forth death and destruction. Soldiers and volunteers shouldered their muskets and fired, the staccato sound of the individual muskets being fired by the Americans sounded different than that of the British forces. The red jackets of the enemy who stood together in an open field made perfect targets for the Americans. Soldiers in blue, the Tennessee volunteers in their homespun clothes and the pirates in their colorful clothing hunkered down behind the revetments.

Looking down the barrel of his musket, the man suddenly saw the back of a fleeing man on horseback. He pulled the trigger and Don Rafael Alvarado fell from his horse.

The bright flash and loud bang of a lightning struck brought the man to an upright position in his bed. A second bang and loud flash caused Captain Marcus Grisham to dive to the floor out of instinct. He picked himself up slowly and sat back on his bed. His hands shook and he realized that he was covered in sweat.

The man rode his stallion, keeping the horsemen on his left and right in sight. The bugle sounded the charge and the Spanish cavalry charged forward toward the French lines. French infantrymen fired their muskets and mini balls took out the Spanish cavalrymen on either side, their horses crashed screaming to the ground.

He slashed his sword at the infantrymen who tried to bayonet him. Blood spurted at him as the sword sank deep into the neck of an enemy. Pushing forward through the masses, he heard the recall sound and turned his horse. He looked to see the way he had come and saw dead men and horses littering the field.

He kicked his heels into his horse and charged through a gap in the French lines, his horse leaping over the dead and dying. He finally made it back to his own lines. He heard the charge sound again. He paused to catch his breath and then raced his horse back into the battle.

The enemy had found the range and canon balls fell across the path he would have to ride. The Spanish Cavalry was being ripped apart as the balls exploded, ripping and tearing into human and horseflesh.

A mini ball plucked at his sleeve and another cut off the feather plume on his hat. \I will not wear a hat again thought the man as his horse leapt over the body or a dead horse. One ball exploded next to him as a bright flash of light lit up his room and the thunder shook his bed. He woke to find himself kneeling on his bed, a sheet corner in each hand and cold sweat rolling down his body.

Another lightning strike and thunder sounded over him as Colonel Luis Montoya found himself hugging the floorboards of his room. He slowly stood up and found his knees were weak and his whole body shivered in fright. Cold sweat ran down his face.

The forward observer watched from an upstairs room of the two-story building as the French troops massed to attack the village. He extended his brass telescope and scanned the enemy artillery batteries. He took a pencil and paper and sketched the locations. The roar of the guns brought the man’s attention back to the emplacements. As he looked out the window, he saw the fire and smoke belch from the six pounders and heard the scream of the canon balls heading for the village.

The ground shook and bottles and books plummeted from the shelves on the wall. He heard a cannon ball cream and knew from experience that this one was headed straight for him. He dove to the floor as the ball burst through the wall. A bright flash and tremendous roar woke Doctor Robert Helm as he lay amid the broken bottles and book strewn across the floor. Another flash and roar sent him scurrying under the bed.

The silence returned to Santa Elena as the sudden thunderstorm dissipated, as if the last two strikes where the storm’s death throws.

Helm crawled out from under the bed, His hands shook and his heart was racing as he sat down on the bed and started to remove the broken glass that had penetrated his naked torso in the front.

The thunder has stopped as he rose and put on his pants, grabbed a bottle of cognac and staggered to the fountain in the town square.

Ducking his head in the water he shook his head to remove some of the excess water and realized that he was not alone. Simultaneously, Marcus Grisham stood there with water dripping down his bare chest while Colonel Montoya, his unbound shoulder length hair drained on to his nightshirt.

The three men sat down as Helm opened the cognac, took a drink and passed it to Montoya. Montoya drank deep and handed the bottle to Grisham. Grisham wiped the mouth of the bottle before taking a swig and then another before returning it to Montoya.

An eerie fire glowed outside of the Pueblo and the scent of burning oak could be smelled.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence as they finished the bottle. Montoya final stood up.

"It has been a hell of a night, gentlemen," he said as he walked back to his room. Helm and Grisham sat a few moments and then each returned to their quarters.

Outside of town the woman heard the thud of the horse’s hooves and heard the gunfire. The soldiers surrounded the Queen of Swords and they were shooting at her. She had been struck several times and was bleeding severely from multiple bullet wounds.

She suddenly fell from her horse and the soldiers dragged her to a post and tied her to it. Captain Grisham and Colonel Montoya congratulated themselves as Grisham set the firing squad into position.

"Ready!"

The Queen looked up to see the firing squad.

"Aim!" A woman ran towards the Queen

"NO!" yelled the woman.

"Fire!"

The loud flash and explosion set the woman bolt upright in bed. Another flash and bang and the woman screamed. "Tessa!"

Tessa raced into Marta’s room, sword in hand.

"Marta, it’s all right I am here."

The two women hugged as Marta shook like a leaf in Tessa’s arms.

"Tessa I saw you being killed and couldn’t stop it," cried Marta.

"It’s just the storm. See it’s over now."

"Tessa, please get a glass of lemonade, I am thirsty."

"Lemonade my eye," replied Tessa. "We need something stronger."

Tessa left and returned in a moment with a bottle of cognac.

"I wonder if anyone else had bad dreams like this," commented Tessa.

"I would be willing to bet that at least three others had bad dreams. If they did they won’t tell, but you will see it in their faces in the morning."

The next morning, Tessa rode into town on Lindo. On the way, she had seen two oak trees on a hill near the pueblo. The smoking charred stumps and acrid smell told Tessa how close the storm had been.

As Tessa rode into town she saw Doctor Helm, Colonel Montoya and Captain Grisham walking from three different directions. They met at the fountain and stopped. They looked at each other, nodded and walked away.

\How very odd,\ thought Tessa. \I guess Marta was right about the bad dreams.

She dismounted at Helm’s office, knocked and entered.

"Senorita, I see you learned to knock, but it is customary to wait to be invited in first," said Helm as he started to sweep up the wreckage.

"Sorry, Doctor, can you use some help? You look pale."

"I am a little under the weather. Your help would be appreciated," he said handing her the broom.

He watched her as she expertly swept up the broken glass into the dustpan. She found the garbage can and emptied the pan. She bent over to pick up the books and looked up to see the smiling face of Helm looking at her.

"Why are you smiling like that?" she asked.

"Just thought you were bowing to me," he replied and then ducked as a book came through the air at him.

"I bow to no man, unless I love him," she replied as she curtsied. Then she felt a flush come to her face and raced out of the office.

"Hmmm," said Helm as he stroked his chin. "Maybe I have misjudged her. I wonder what she meant by that?" He smacked his hand on forehead. "Helm you are as dense as an adobe brick. The girl likes you."

Helm went to the door only to see Senorita Alvarado riding out of town on her big Palomino.

"You idiot!" he said as he slammed the door and put his head on the door jam."