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

7/1/02

It was a warm summer evening as the deserter dug out a small pit and lit a campfire in the Santa Inez Mountains above El Pueblo de Santa Elena. It was a small fire built in the shape of a teepee, as he did not want to be seen by anyone in the village.

He clutched a half-empty whiskey bottle while kicking its empty twin into the fire. He stumbled over to a fallen tree and gathered the dry grass and leaves to make a mattress. Satisfied, he sat down and leaned up against the log. Ignoring the fact that it had not rained for four months and the land and foliage was timber dry, he lit a cigarillo and alternated between taking a drag on the tobacco and taking a swig of the whiskey. The more he drank, the more tired he became and eventually fell asleep; the bottle drained and the cigar burning in his left hand.

A stiff breeze from the south swirled around the drunken man and stirred the embers in the fire. The charred firewood collapsed and sparks flew up to be grabbed by the wind and deposited in the dry grass to the north of the sleeping man.

The two inch ash on the cigar, broken by the wind dropped onto the grass mattress as the burning cherry on the cigar made contact with the man’s fingers. He made an involuntary flip of his hand and the cigar flew into the grass to the south of him. The cigar, the embers and the ash started burning and within minutes the entire campsite was engulfed in flame.

The soldier woke from his drunken stupor to find his clothes on fire and he jumped up. He saw an open area in the flames and ran to it while divesting himself of the flames. Jacket and pants were thrown around to land on more dry grass and leaves. The burning clothes ignited the brush and the soldier found that he was completely surrounded by flames.

The heat and the flames took its toll as the man’s flesh began to burn and melt away from his body. The smoke and the sheer pair of burning choked off his screams of agony. The man collapsed as the fire claimed the body.

"Colonel Montoya! Fuego, Fuego!" yelled the guard on duty as he burst into Montoya’s room.

"Fuego? Donde?" as Montoya as he shook the sleep from his brain.

"Alli, En Los Santa Inez Montanas."

Montoya ran to the balcony and looked as he could see the orange flames that were licking the dark night.

"Private, wake Captain Grisham and then ring the church bell, on the double."

A few minutes later, Captain Grisham came running in as he slipped his suspenders onto his shoulders.

"What is it Colonel, pirates?"

"We should be so lucky. No. Fire in the mountains."

"So, there have been fires before," said the Americano.

"True, but not like this. There has been no rain and it is a tinderbox out there."

"So what’s the problem, Colonel?"

"Have you ever seen a wildfire, Captain? The winds are blowing from the south. When the fire leaves the mountains all there is between the mountains and here are the dry grasslands. Fire can cover that ground faster than you can ride a horse at a full gallop. We have to warn the Dons. They will all need to fight this enemy. Actually, we all will need to fight it or we could lose this part of Alta California."

Grisham ran outside and started calling out the guard.

"You three, go to the haciendas to the south and then east, you three ride to the haciendas to the North and then west. Tell them to gather their rancheros two miles south east of the pueblo. Bring shovels, rakes, any tool they can find and lots of blankets."

Tessa Alvarado woke earlier than normal and felt her way to the kitchen in the dark. A few minutes later Marta came in as she tied her robe around her.

"Tessa, are you burning the toast again?"

"Very funny Marta. Take a whiff, there is a big fire somewhere. Madre Dios, look Marta," she said as she saw the glow of the fire reflecting downward from the smoke.

Tessa and Marta ran to the top of the hill overlooking the Hacienda.

"It is the Santa Inez, Marta. Go wake the caballeros. We will need everyone to put that fire out."

"Won’t the Dons nearby put it out?"

"Marta, I remember when I was a little girl a wildfire broke out. Three haciendas were burned to the ground and forty people died before they stopped it. It burned all the way from the mountains until it came to Santa Elena. Did you ever wonder why there is a mile wide stretch of barren ground around Santa Elena? Papa called it a fire break."

"How did they fight it?"

"With hoes and shovels. We have to clear ground in front of the fire before it can burn. A fire with nothing to burn will go out."

Marta nodded her head and hurried to the stables where she found Juan tending the horses.

"Wake everyone. Tell them to get all the hoes, shovels and blankets. Then fill all of the water barrels. Rapido!"

Juan swung onto an unsaddled horse and raced away.

Two hours later caballeros, soldiers, workers and towns people gathered at the appointed spot. Wagons filled with water barrels brimming to the top lined up. Everyone stood around with bandanas around their noses to keep the thick smoke that drifted their way at bay.

Colonel Montoya and Captain Grisham rode up to the scene, each wearing bandanas also. Montoya paced his horse in front of those assembled.

"We will need to scrape away all of the grass for at least three hundred yards and hope the flame doesn’t jump the firebreak in this wind. Those with shovels and hoes will clear the land and. . . What the hell is that?" asked Montoya as he saw several teams of horses and wagons headed towards them. Don Gaspar was in the lead in his carriage.

"Pardon my dust and lateness Colonel. I though that these items might help us."

Montoya looked at the four wagons. Each held two farm plows and the teams were tied to the wagons. Men started unloading the plows and hitched them up.

"I thought that plows would be faster than men digging with shovels," said Don Gaspar.

"You are a wise man, mi amigo," said Montoya. "Ok let’s get going. Those with blankets spread out in front of the fire as close as you can go. Soak your blankets in the water. It will be your job to beat down any flames that come near the break, until we are ready."

The fire crews went to their designated positions and started to work. The plow teams moved off a mile away and started plowing side by side. The people with hand tools moved a half a mile away and started to dig and turn over the sod.

They dug and scraped for several hours attempting to make a firebreak before the wildfire arrived. They worked in silence except for the heavy breathing from working in the hot weather. Montoya and many other had raced to weather the fire was burning and attempted to swat down the flames. Montoya had taken off his uniform blouse, soaked with water and used it as others used blankets.

Smoke billowed in black plumes two thousand feet in the air with the orange flames continued to eat the forest. White grey smoke, pushed by the wind, spread over this part of Alta California. The daylight faded but only because the sun was blocked by the smoke.

Montoya looked behind him to see a man on a white horse prancing up and down the fire line like a gang boss.

"Grisham, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Just making sure everyone is working, Colonel," replied Grisham.

"It seems to me that everyone else is working except you," replied Montoya as he slung his scorched uniform blouse over his shoulder. The same blouse that he had been dunking in the water and then beating down flames.

"What about him?" asked Grisham as he spied Doctor Helm by a wagon. Grisham jumped from his horse and started towards Helm.

"Grisham, Doctor Helm has been on the fire line as well as taking care of the injured."

"What injured?" asked the Americano.

"That young woman whose skirt caught fire and was burned before anyone could get her out of the flames. Doctor Helm, will she be all right?"

"Fortunately yes. That young private who pulled her out of the flames saved her life as well as minimizing the burns. She was also fortunate that Marta brought a good supply of aloe."

"Marta is here? She left the hacienda while Senorita Alvarado stayed at home?" frowned Montoya.

Two young women, their hair in braids curled under their babushkas, their noses clothed in bandanas and their faces black with dirt and soot walked up behind the Colonel.

"Agua aqui," said a boy of ten who carried a large water bucket with two dippers.

"Doctor, these two young women have been on the fire line with me all day while Senorita Alvarado sits at home," said Montoya angrily.

"Ahem."

Montoya turned to the young women who had made the sound.

"Colonel, I take offense at your statement," said one of the women.

"Why? You have been working very hard."

"Thank you Colonel," she said as she lowered the bandana to take a drink from the boy.

"Maria Teresa, I am sorry, I didn’t recognize you. You have been next to me all day. I humbly apologize. The next thing I suppose I will find is Vera out here also."

The other young woman removed her babuska and bandana. The blonde hair, darker from the soot fell to her shoulders.

"Hello, Colonel," smiled Vera. "Tessa, how am I ever going to get this soot out?" asked Vera looking at her clothes.

"I think I will just burn mine," giggled Tessa.

"Senora, I haven’t seen your husband in some time," said Montoya.

"He has been working the fireline to the east, Colonel. See there he is."

Montoya looked to where the big man was on the line swinging a hoe.

"Then that only leaves you Captain as the one not working," said Montoya.

"Maybe, but what about that lazy good for nothing under the wagon," said Grisham as he kicked the man’s legs. "Come on out of there."

"He won’t be going anywhere, Captain," said Montoya.

"Why not, I will make him work."

"You are as dumb as a rock, Grisham. Wait, you are dumber than a rock. The man is dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes dead. That sixty-year-old man was one of the first on the line and has worked all day. He collapsed in my arms about a half-hour ago. His old heart just gave out."

"Doctor, then why haven’t you put a blanket on him?" asked Grisham.

"All of the blankets are on the fireline. Now excuse me, I have injured to see to," replied Helm.

From the West a cloud was seen as thirty riders and two wagons came to the fire camp. The flowing blond hair and the Palomino horse told everyone that Mary Rose had arrived.

"Mary Rose, how nice of you to come," said Montoya.

"I thought you were having a fiesta and forgot to invite me," smirked the former buccaneer. "I left several men and some wagons just west of here. The rest came with me. I would have been here sooner, but we were interrupted by a stampede of horses, cattle, deer and even some mountain lions escaping the fire. I have food and fresh water. My men will relieve some of your people while they eat and rest. The sun will be going down soon."

"How can you tell? Smiled Montoya as he looked at the smoke cover.

"I have a watch," smiled Mary Rose.

"Every second and third person break off and eat. When you are finished the rest will take a break," shouted Montoya.

As Mary Rose’s men took over the fire duty, the people straggled from the fire line. Some collapsed near the wagon while others gathered to eat.

"What did you bring?" asked Tessa.

"I stopped in town and the older women who stayed behind had made fresh tortillas and beans, but had no way to get them here. I did stop further down the line and offered some food to those people down there but they declined."

"People west of here? Who, I have no one down there," replied Montoya.

"An Indian who said his name was Jorge and his people are Chumash," said Mary Rose. "The fire made a run for the ocean and is now coming this way. Without the Chumash, we wouldn’t have a chance."

Montoya shook his head. "See Grisham, tragedy bring out the best in most people, even strangers."

The wind suddenly died down as the light was fading.

"Colonel, the fire will probably lay down during the night due to the cooler weather and no wind. Most of the people should be able to sleep for awhile tonight."

"You are right Maria Teresa. You and Senora Hidalgo need to be among those who rest. You have been at it since daybreak."

"You also, Colonel. In the meantime, come let’s get something to eat," she said as she took his arm and led him to the food.

Daylight attempted to break through the smoke as the winds increased. Everyone jumped up and went back to the fireline.

A few hours later, a finger of flame shot out westerly and attempted to go around the firecrew and in between the towns people and Mary Rose’s men to the west. Another finger threatened to make it run between the Mary Rose’s and the Chumash effectively trapping the men. The Chumash rushed to the east while the town’s people raced to the west. This fire had a mind of its own and was determined to defeat the puny humans.

Men, women and even the older children took their blankets, shovels and hoes and attacked the fire vigorously.

Suddenly the wind shifted and a strong wind blew from the East. The boom of thunder and a crack of lightening lit up the smoke filled sky. Unbeknownst to the firecrew, storm clouds had moved in, hidden by the smoke. Raindrops started falling and then a deluge of rain began to fall.

The sizzling sound as water quenched the fire was almost deafening to the people who had fighting the fire in silence, except for their heavy breathing. Within an hour, the hard packed dry ground was a quagmire of mud and the fire was dying.

The people stood in the rain and looked to the sky, soot washing down their faces leaving streaks. Men took off their hats and women pulled their scarves from their heads and accepted the cooling, lifesaving rain.

Two days later, Captain Grisham walked into Colonel Montoya’s office. He tossed the belt buckle and a half-burned belt onto Montoya’s desk.

"I think we found the answer to two questions, Colonel?"

"Two questions?"

"How did the fire start and what happened to Private Cordova. We found a charred body in the mountains and this belt buckle near by. Two bottles of whiskey, one in the fire pit and one by a log. I think Cordova lit a campfire, got drunk and the wind started the wildfire."

"You went out there Captain?"

"Uh no. I sent Corporal Trinidad."

"Very good Captain." Montoya walked out to the balcony and waved his hand indicating the people. "Did you notice how well everyone worked during the fire? Not a single complaint. I wish I could bottle that spirit of helpfulness. You may leave now," said Montoya as he walked back into his office and poured a glass of brandy.

"Thank you Private Cordova," he said as he raised his glass in salute.

The End

Dedicated to all the urban and non-urban fire men and women fighting the wildfires in the West, especially those who bravely fought the Chediski-Rodeo Fire in Arizona. These Hotshot crews’ hard work prevented the loss of a single life, saved thousands of homes and several communities.