FEAR IN THREE PARTS

by Anthony Docimo
Rodlox@hotmail.com

NOTE: First is Memory, the next two are - something else. I apologize if this makes no sense as a story - but the muses clubbed me.

QUOTE: "Through a glass and darkly, I fought that strife, under many guises and many names, but always me." --Patton. {probably not an exact quote - drawing on memory}.

MADRID, SPAIN; 1813 AD

Tessa asked, "Is this a tight enough one?" She was waiting patiently with a rope tied around herself and a tree trunk on a high rocky ledge.

Her uncle came over and inspected them. "Yes, these are quite good, Teresa," he told her simply; he was not one for flattering praises, something that Tessa's father liked about him.

Leonardo diChello was her uncle on her mother's side, a noble family from the state of Parma. He was also an experienced mountaineer. The rock edge was thanks to a road-building crew that had sliced away part of the mountain, providing him a place to practice his skills. diChello looked down. The ground was less than forty feet away. It was a good start for his relative. He bade her come and look down to where they had tied the horses.

"I - I - I don't know," Tessa stuttered as she looked over the edge. "Can't we just walk back down the hill?"

"You can," Leonardo told her, shrugging. "But it takes long enough to walk from where we tethered our horses down there to the nearest town. If a man were down there, and in urgent need of medical attention, even a run down the hill would take too long - he would not survive the trip to town. That is why this is a skill."

"But Uncle, I am a lady," Tessa said, trying to inch out of this one last time.

Her uncle only looked exasperated. "Yes, I know. You are of noble blood through your father. But do not underestimate your mother's side of your heritage." He looked at her, considering her plea. "Alright. You can go down the hill. But at least spot me as I rappel down; will you grant me that?"

Tessa nodded. It wasn't so much to ask. "Thank you."

Tessa's uncle eased himself over the ledge of rock, and began to rappel downwards. Tessa couldn't help but be hypnotized by his easy, practiced moves. When he got halfway down, something seemed to be going wrong! He was going too fast, the rope slipped out of his hand! He fell to the road. No movement came from him. The horses, not far off, shuffled in motions of panic, but the ropes kept them from fleeing.

Gape mouthed, Tessa knew that her uncle needed help quickly! The only way to get help was to go down the road to town--the road that he was stationary upon.

I have to do something! Her eyes wandered down the dirt path that led to the safety of the ground from her perch. Her uncle had been right; it was too far to walk or run. Tessa gulped as there was only one thing she could possibly do.

Double-checking the strength of the rope--she did not want two deaths today, or even one--she backed off from the tree towards the edge. That rope was her only life line.

Steadily, Tessa rappeled down, taking tiny hops against the rock face to make her move a little faster down to the ground. Hop, hop, hop; feeling the rope slide through her gloved hands. Almost there, almost, almost....

She set her feet down on the gravel of the road and hurriedly untied herself so she could help her uncle, untie him. Why is he smiling?! "Uncle, don't worry, we'll be in town--."

"In time for dinner, I hope," her uncle told her as he sat up. He tried not to smile at his niece's surprised face.

Tessa incredulously asked, "You planned that?"

The older man shrugged. "No. It was spur of the moment. But that little trick always did properly motivate my students."

~~~~~

ALTA CALIFORNIA; 1818 AD

Tessa asked the stranger, "Who are you?" Why would that woman not come out of the shadows?

"I am the Queen Of Swords, Maria Teresa Alvarado," the stranger replied.

"That's impossible," Tessa said confidently. "Who are you, really?"

Silence. Then attack, if thrusting her rapier against Tessa's throat could be considered an attack by itself. "Wh-what do you want?" Tessa asked.

The Queen--or at least a woman who wore the same mask, had the same skin--angled her rapier so that she could stand a whiff away from being nose-to-nose with the Don's daughter. "You've used me far too much and too long. No more, I tell you now. No more."

When the Queen drew back her sword and sheathed it, Tessa finally drew a breath. Seeing that the Queen was starting to walk away, she called to... to herself? "Can't we talk about this? Perhaps--."

Spinning on one foot, the Queen looked Tessa straight in the eyes. Haunted eyes edged by lace. "That's something you've reserved for yourself, girl. You only grant me the witty repartee."

Turning around once more, the Queen walked off. Tessa watched as her alter ego actually abandoned her.

~~~~~

Marta called as she shut the hacienda door behind her, "Tessa?"

"Why were the lights out? Where was that girl?"

Tessa's voice came from the darkness, "Girl?" She appeared shortly after, holding a lit candle in one hand. "Friend?" Tessa spat the ill-tasting word at her elder, then raised her rapier in the hand which wasn't holding the candle. "You kill my father, and still have the gall to call yourself my friend?"

"Tessa, I would never harm you or your father; I--."

"Would defend the man who bedded you, who was my father. You doted on him, followed him around faithfully. He came to California to escape from you, and he died." She let that sink in a bit. "His death is your fault!"

It was an accusation that Marta had been bound to hear from one of the other Dons, or perhaps a fellow gitano, but never from the lips of little Tessa.

"So you still think so little of me? You're braver than I gave you credit for, witch." She circled the gypsy and continued, "Tell me, who do you have your sights on now? Doctor Helm perhaps?"

Marta started for the door, only to feel the cold steel of Tessa's blade on her throat. "Try it and die."

~~~~~

Even waking up the next morning did not rid them of their respective fearful dreams.

~~~~~

now to go hide the rope and noose.

THE END