"Tessa!" she called. Tessa came over, looking distracted. "Tessa, what has gotten into you?"

Tessa shook her head wryly. "I don't know how I ended up giving a Christmas party for all the dons, but I did. And it will cost a lot of money that I don't have."

Elena shrugged, rubbing her back. "It all looks fine to me. Plenty of food, drink and fun, from here to Santa Elena. If the rest of the dons don't like it, they can throw their own parties from now on. Where is your handsome doctor?" Tessa looked woebegone. "Tessa?"

"He's gone to Monterey, to stock up on his medical supplies."

"So, why the long face? Will he be staying there for Christmas?"

Tessa shook her head. "He said he would be back by tomorrow evening. It's not that. It's just...Elena, what do you think of Roberto? Really think of him?"

Elena regarded Tessa. "I'm not sure what you mean. He seems to be a dedicated doctor." She smiled slyly at Tessa. "He certainly seems to be very dedicated to your welfare. Very...attentive."

Tessa smiled, but it was wan. "Yes, but how do you see him as, um, husband material?" Her voice dropped on the last two words.

Elena gaped at her. "Are you two getting married? Tessa, that's wonderful! When?"

Tessa shook her head. "I didn't say that."

"I don't understand the problem. You don't want to marry him?"

"No. It's not that--"

"He doesn't want to marry you?" Elena growled, outraged. "Why, what a snake. I never would have thought--"

"No. It's not that, either."

Elena watched her doubtfully. "Let me understand this: You love Roberto. Roberto loves you. You both want to get married, to each other...but you're not. What, exactly, am I missing here?"

"I would love to marry Roberto. I think he would love to marry me." Tessa hesitated. "I didn't say that we thought it was a good idea."

"But Tessa, that's silly. I'm a Doņa, just like you, but I married the man I loved, not the one that someone picked out for me. If Marta, Josephine and I can all marry for love, why can't you?"

Tessa smiled sadly. "Think of it this way--what if you had decided to marry Fenner, or Marta or Josephine had decided to marry Juan Pablo?"

Elena considered how her family would have reacted to that, and winced. "Ah. I see your point."

Tessa sat down in a chair on the lawn. "A good friend of mine married above her station and is still struggling to be accepted by the Doņas years later. Imagine what it would have been like for her if she had married below her station, instead."

"Vera," Elena said. Tessa nodded. "But Tessa, Vera is not you, and the situation is not the same."

"Maybe not," Tessa sighed. "But unless a miracle occurs and Roberto is able to make his own fortune, or become enobled, I can't marry him. I can't do that to him and live with myself."

This was not where I planned to be on Christmas Eve, Helm thought, as he pulled his hat down around his ears. Equus was grunting and complaining about the terrain. It was very rough. If there really was a treasure trove up in these hills, whoever had dumped it here had wanted it to stay hidden. The recent rains had not helped the footing, creating mudslides and other treacheries.

"Tell me we're almost there, Eduardo," Helm yelled at Jimenez up ahead.

Jimenez turned around on his mule and grinned back at Helm. He waved a greasy, old parchment at Helm. "According to the map, we should see it any time, now."

Helm had seen the map and was unimpressed by it. He'd drawn better, in a hurry, while dodging the French. He found the double design especially puzzling. How could the map be in two places at once? Besides...he looked around and saw a mission in the distance, some vineyards and olive groves, and a good deal of dry ground. No landmarks in the immediate vicinity; nothing to indicate a burial. They would have to be careful. The mission was large and wealthy, though barely populated by anyone save a few monks and many Indios. If the dons disliked the military governors, they hated the missions even more, and eyed the Church's holdings with downright unholy avarice. Helm wondered if the monks knew that their days were numbered in Alta California. Or did they think that God would continue to protect them, as he had for centuries already?

Only a drunk or a fool would go looking for treasure out here--or a man desperately in need of money. Jimenez was certainly a drunk and a fool, though he didn't look all that desperate. If the rumors were true though, the soldiers in Monterey had not been paid for years. Perhaps Jimenez was simply too stupid to understand his situation.

"Hurry up, Doctor!" Helm winced. Maybe the man could draw just a bit more attention to this little treasure hunt?

"Slow down! And keep your voice down! You want to alert everyone at the Mission that we're out here?"

"I thought you said that you knew the Chumash," Jimenez said, pulling on his mule's mouth. The mule stopped at the top of the ridge. Jimenez and his mount made a perfect silhouette on the horizon, Helm thought sourly.

Helm caught up and reined in Equus beside the mule. "The free Chumash, yes. Every Indio in Alta California, no. And I am certainly not on good speaking terms with any man of the cloth. If anyone from the Mission catches us here, you'd better not depend on any goodwill they might have towards me." Helm looked around, but could see nothing that looked like a burial site. "Where did you say this treasure was buried?"

"You don't like priests?" Helm could swear that he saw the man chewing a cud.

"Let us just say that they don't much like me and leave it at that." He was never going to see anything from this bloody horse. "Where did you say that this treasure was buried?"

"I didn't. It's supposed to be in a cave."

Helm rolled his eyes. "Of course. So, we came to the top of a hill to look for a cave."

Jimenez shrugged. "This is where the map said to go."

Equus shied, refusing to go forward. This wasn't surprising behavior, but it made Helm suspicious. Why up here, where there was nothing to irritate the horse? He dismounted, letting Equus go to one side. The horse might well bolt, but Helm had long since learned to keep the most important things, like his water bottle, tinder box and a small supply of dried fruit and meat, in his coat pockets. He stepped forward. The footing seemed loose, like spring ice, and there were cracks along the ground. When he stomped on it, it rang, like a dirt-covered bell. "I think there's something under here," he said.

"I don't see anything different." Jimenez urged his mule forward.

Helm felt his footing slip, and put up a hand. "Jimenez! Wait--"

Jimenez yelled and the mule brayed when the ground dropped under the mule's hooves. Equus whinnied, shying away as man and mule slipped through the ragged hole that appeared. Helm turned and jumped away to clear the hole as the ground shifted under his feet, but too late. The ground crumbled underfoot, throwing him flat. He heard a double thud and the noise from both Jimenez and his mule cut short in grunts. The falling dirt dragged Helm down with it, even though he clawed bloody trails in the wet ground, ripping up his fingernails. Suddenly, he was clutching loose dirt and tumbling in cold air, his belly clenching in protest as he curled up frantically against the fall. Then, he hit and rolled. His vision jumbled as his head struck the ground in a splash of mud and he fell into darkness.

"Coronel Montoya," she gasped. "Have you seen anyone on the road from Monterey?"

"Seņorita," Montoya said amiably. "Why are you not at your own party? Is this how a Doņa should act when she is a hostess?"

She gave him an impatient glance. "I apologize, Coronel. My guests are arriving, it's true, but I seem to be missing one of our guests."

"Indeed? This must be a very special guest."

She nodded. "It is Doctor Helm. He was supposed to be back from his trip to Monterey this afternoon. But we have had no word from him and I am growing very concerned."

"I feel certain that Dr. Helm will come back safe and sound. He seems to be an exceptionally versatile individual, and if he runs into any difficulties, no doubt the Queen of Swords will rescue him. Though, I must say that the trip back from Monterey can be long indeed, and perhaps not very safe in these times." He thought she paled at that, but it was difficult to tell in the evening light. "This is a frontier, no?" He smiled, pretending sympathy.

"Of course, Coronel." She smiled back, but it looked rather sour, more so than for her usual coquettish manner. Well, love did turn a woman's head more than a man's, and a young girl's most of all. Astonishing, that she should fall so hard for a man of so little consequence and so far below her station. But then, women found the darkness at the root of a man's soul irresistible, and Helm's soul was very dark, no matter how hard he tried to imitate a man of peace. That was his weakness. Someday, Montoya would find a way to exploit it to the end of capturing the Queen of Swords. Without proof, he could not expose Tessa as the Queen, but he felt certain that the good Doctor was her weak spot. Through him, Montoya would destroy her. Most likely, he would have to destroy Helm as well, but that was no surprise or loss. Helm was becoming increasingly unmanageable. With even the skills that he had shown so far, he was far too much of a threat to leave to his own devices forever.

"It is just that Marta has had such a stomachache this week," Tessa was saying, "And Dr. Helm promised to bring back something for it, so that she wouldn't have to spend Christmastime ill."

"I sincerely hope that it was not preparing your food that made her ill, Seņorita," Montoya smirked.

Tessa raised an eyebrow. "Why no. I believe that she became ill from something that she ate in town. During our last visit in to pay taxes, I think." She urged her horse past him. "Please don't mind my absence. I am going to continue looking for a little while. Feel free to continue on to my hacienda. Marta, Seņora Elena and Josephine are welcoming the guests in my place. Hasta luego, Coronel." She spurred her horse down the road before he could answer.

Montoya watched her disappear into the dusk. Did she know that she was becoming more like the Queen every day? Perhaps not. Nor was he about to tell her. She was difficult enough to deal with already. He continued to the hacienda. Perhaps, if he had good luck, he would get his wish for Christmas, and Dr. Helm would not return from Monterey at all.

Act Two

Helm drifted, his heartbeat banging in his head. His breathing seemed to echo as his dreams flickered in and out. He finally woke to chill air, mud and darkness. He lay on his side, his aching knee shoved up against the wall. Even rolling onto his back hurt more than he could bear. He opened his eyes. The hole above his head showed as a ragged oval of stars. Nausea swept through him. He rolled over and vomited, then passed out. When he woke enough to hate the smell of sickness, he rolled away and saw the mule. It lay still enough that he could tell it was dead, even in what little light came from the stars. He felt along its bulk and found Jimenez under it, still warm but also dead and cooling. Jimenez and his poor mule had probably saved Helm's life, breaking his fall enough that he had only been hurt. All this work for nothing. The last witness that he could find against Grisham was dead and he was trapped down a hole.

He groaned, shaking the dead man. "Jimenez, don't do this to me. Come on!" The movement made his head ache. He sagged back, swallowing more sickness. He could do little for the night, though he could try to light a fire when he felt less disoriented. When he tried to sit up he groaned in pain. His left shoulder and opposite knee felt swollen. He did not know if he would be able to move tomorrow. He hoped so. He would have to get himself out of this mess, though if others found Equus, they might be able to trace his trail back to the hill--assuming that they didn't keep their mouths shut and claim the horse for their own. No. No one was going to find him down here. He fought down a sudden, insane longing to be back in Tessa's room, in her arms. He examined himself carefully, moving his hands as gently as he could down his body. His ribs felt all right, though his left side felt sore. His neck felt very sore and stiff, but his back, thank God, seemed all right and nothing seemed broken. As long as he had done no internal damage, he would recover--but only if he could get out. Panting, Helm let his head rest on the mule's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Tessa, I am sure that he is fine," Marta assured Tessa. "Go out and entertain your guests before they begin to wonder what is going on."

Tessa stood in her room, staring out the window into the darkness. "Something is wrong, Marta. I can feel it. He should have been back by now."

"It is a long ride back from Monterey and he only left yesterday. Perhaps he simply decided to stay there another night. He might not have been able to find what he was looking for. It was just before Christmas Eve. It does seem odd that he chose to go yesterday." Despite her reassurances, Marta began to feel anxious. Tessa's unease was catching.

A shadow crossed Tessa's face. "It seems odd to me, too, but he wouldn't tell me anything about his real reason for going."

"You don't believe that he only went for medicines?" Marta narrowed her eyes. Perhaps she had been neglecting her duties as Tessa's duenna lately. Tessa was not being at all wise about Dr. Helm. Marta smiled to herself; people in love were like that. She knew it first-hand.

"He's been very morose lately," Tessa admitted. "He doesn't think that we should carry on the way that we have been doing." And what way is that, exactly, Tessita? Marta thought, alarmed. What had those two been getting up to in the past few weeks, when she had been so distracted with Roman?

"Tessa, what kind of game are you playing with Dr. Helm?" Marta said coldly. "It is bad enough that you spend so much time alone with him, as Tessa and not the Queen. The doņas will talk. But if he is actually doing something that would imperil your virtue...."

"He wants to marry me." At Marta's gasp of outrage, Tessa lifted her chin in a determined attitude that Marta knew all too well. "And I want to marry him."

"Tessa, I like and respect Dr. Helm, but you cannot marry him. He is much too far below your station. The dons will all think him an adventurer. They would never accept him. He would lose his business, be thrown out of Alta California, possibly even killed. You would lose any support that you had from the dons against Coronel Montoya and very likely lose your hacienda into the bargain! You cannot risk that!"

Tessa hung her head. "We both know that. I think that's why he went to Monterey, to find a solution to our problem."

"But what could he possibly find in Monterey that would help him marry you?"

"I don't know--and that's what scares me."

When Helm opened his eyes again, the sky above the hole was dark blue. The sun must be rising. He felt stiff and cold from the night's sleep, but his headache was not quite as bad as before. At least he had the duster. It had kept him from freezing to death in the wet mud. The smell from the mule was thick in his nostrils, a mix of musty dander and sweet rot that made him sneeze and then vomit from the pain in his head. He drank some water from his canteen. When his stomach settled down, he sat up slowly and pulled out some beef jerkey which he gnawed on, blessing the wisdom of keeping his own supplies in his coat. Looking around, he realised that he had fallen into a sinkhole. The eroded stone walls indicated that there had already been a cave here before the rains, so the walls would at least not collapse on him, smothering him in mud. To his right, a crack in the walls led off into darkness. He should start a fire, warm himself up if he could, though whatever in here was normally flammable might be too wet to light. At least he had food and water. For now. At worst, he supposed he could live on the dead mule for weeks, if necessary. He would most likely run out of food before he did water, or freeze to death if the night temperatures continued to drop and he could not find a way to warm himself. He laid his head against the wall, cushioned by his hat. Maybe he could just sleep on it for a few hours more.

"Alors, you are in a fix now, non?" Helm lifted his head, noticing the man sitting comfortably with his back to the cave wall across from him, puffing on a pipe, for the first time. "This was not where you expected to be on Christmas Eve, je crois."

"How did you get over there?" Helm said, peering at the man and speaking in French like him. The intruder was dressed much like Helm was--like an ex-soldier, he thought absently--in hat, duster, old trousers and boots.

"Shouldn't you be saying, 'who am I?'" the man chuckled. "Or do you know that already?" Helm peered at the hangdog face and graying beard--by God, he did look familiar.

"Roger Pirenne," Helm agreed. "I know you. You're dead."

Pirenne grinned. "You are confused; that is a new thing. I could not be here, so I must be dead. No one could be here. You should be alone. I think that you are more badly hurt than you thought before." He leaned forward, the new day's light falling on his face, illuminating his features. "I know what you are thinking, too. Why am I here? But you and I both know why."

"Go away," Helm said wearily, closing his eyes and laying down his head.

"Get up and make that fire, or I may haunt you forever," Pirenne taunted him. "Even if you die, I will always be here. You take me with you wherever you run."

"Bastard." Pirenne, as he ever had been, was right. Moving painfully, Helm searched around for something to burn. He finally settled on ripping some moss off the walls and shredding the part of Jimenez's shirt that was still dry. After some grunting, he loosened the girth on the mule's saddle and got the blanket off. Jimenez's coat remained caught under the mule's body, but Helm did find the map. He huddled under the blanket for awhile, as the sky brightened, the roused himself enough to build a fire and eat some fruit. The fire provided less warmth than he had hoped, but covering himself with the saddle blanket helped. To his relief, Pirenne remained silent as long as Helm kept moving. He noticed that the smoke drifted up to the hole and out. Good. He hadn't thought of that. Someone might notice the smoke and come looking for him--assuming that anyone would be looking for him anyway. It would have to be soon. The rest of the mule's tack and Jimenez's clothes would serve when Helm ran out of the few clumps of dead moss around the walls, but they would not last long. The inside of the cave itself was very muddy, but drying out, he noticed, as the sun rose. Well, he would keep the fire going as long as he could while he was down here. It could be the signal that brought rescue.

He still could not stand up, and had to crawl around the cave, which was only a few times the width of Jimenez and his unfortunate mule. One side of it narrowed into a tunnel. Helm searched Jimenez's body as best he could and discovered the map. As he looked at it and at the tunnel on the other side of the cave, he saw why there had been two designs. The second must be for the cave. To his relief, the second map appeared to show an exit. He was puzzled by where his own cave fit in, but it must be nearby if Jimenez had mistaken the area over this hole for the right place. But what was this designation, "Tesoro--Treasure"? Jimenez had been vague about what the treasure was. Helm could curse himself as much as he liked over following an old drunk on such a stupid quest, but he was still stuck here unless he found his way out. If he found the bloody treasure, whatever it was, he would know where he was in the cave system and could find the way out as well.

Continue to Part Three

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