RODLOX FILE 2
By Rodlox
Rodlox@hotmail.com
NOTE: this is a QOS spin on an old airplane joke.
#18 CHALLENGE RESPONSE
~~~
Robert Helm was peacefully sleeping in his bed in his room in his home in the pueblo of Santa hElena.
He heard the first birdcall of the morning.
Unfortunately, he was trying to sleep.
Fortunately, it shut up when he threw his empty gun at where it was perched.
Unfortunately, that collapsed the shelf with many of his things.
Fortunately, he wouldn't have to clean it up for a while.
Unfortunately, he would have to clean it up eventually.
Fortunately, the bird began to sing outside.
Unfortunately, it was part of a chorus now.
Fortunately, nothing untoward happened when Robert sat up in bed.
Unfortunately, when he started to stand up, the sun got in his eyes.
Fortunately, his feet found his slippers.
Unfortunately, he slipped on them.
Fortunatley, there was only one thing in his downward arc.
Unfortunately, it was the musket ball.
Fortunately, it did not explode.
Unfortunately, his chest felt like it had.
Fortunately, he decided not to risk cooking breakfast.
Unfortunately, he also had no food in the pantry anyway.
Fortunately, nothing happened when he opened the door to escape his home.
Unfortunately, the door hit him in the butt on the way out.
Fortunately, the sun was not in his eyes now.
Unfortunately, it had rained last night.
Fortunately, he did not slip in any puddles.
Unfortunately, Robert stepped on a peasant's submerged rake.
Fortunately, it did not dig into his flesh like a certain woman's nails.
Unfortunately, the pole swung up and swatted him in the face.
Fortunately, he backed away from the rake.
Unfortunately, it was into the wall.
Fortunately, he remembered that there was a doctor in the house.
Unfortunately, he was it.
END
SPOILERS: The Dragon!!!!!
CHARACTERS: Montoya, Kami, minor dragon, Queen, other Montoyas.
NOTE: I put the Japanese last names first, then the personal names last. Thanks to Jim and Roanna for
their help. All errorS are entirely my own.
~~~~~
"In my dreams I always see you soar above the sky." -song on radio {anyone know it?}.
~~~~~
They had said their goodbyes, and now Kami was leaving the Queen behind after giving her a dragon sword.
A massive head erupted from the surface of the bay, rocketting above the formerly tranquil water on a thick neck. While everyone else panicked and headed for shelter from the monster, the enormous head - easily as thick as Chico's torso - sinuously lowered itself, aiming for Kami and the Queen.
Lightly exhaling through it's nostrils, it spoke, "Child who assumes, why have you not completed your oath? The ancestors are not pleased.""She saved my life," Kami said humbly, bowing and keeping her head lowered. "I was mislead."
"Why?" it asked, the red bristles running along the top of it's neck quivering. "Her reasons are not what you think."
"Did Montoya send you?" the Queen asked, only then realizing how rediculous it sounded. What could he possibly hold over the head of a sea monster?
"Silence, you who wish to land the killing blow upon those in your way!" And, to exclamate this, it kept one nostril sealed, exhaling hard enough with the other one to send the Queen several feet back and on her duff.
While the Queen was down, the dragon turned it's head only slightly to focus on Kami. "Rise up, for I shall carry you to your destiny," and arrayed it's whiskers - barbels - into a stairstep shape for her. Obediently, Kami climbed up them, taking a seat at the back of the dragon's head.
Almost immediately after that, the tatsu - dragon - spun it's head around, moving swiftly through the water and the surface of said water, kicking up sea spray all around it.
"Behave, Endo Kami of Samuri," the dragon told her. "Breath deep and seek peace."
Obediently, Kami did as she was told, breathing deeply and focusing on the calmness in the center of her turbulent emotions; the calmness grew and grew, until it was dominant.
Below her, sea-spray was no long being kicked up by the dragon's swift passage through the water. Now, they were soaring over it - not truly 'floating' for that held connotations of drifting like a passive cloud.
"Wise and ancient, tatsu," Kami said, "is there something you wish for me to do?"
"Not ancient," it corrected her. "I mere centuries." On the horizon, Kami could see Santa hElena, siloetted against the sky. "The dragons must destroy the tengu before their passion kills this land," the tatsu told her.
With a turn of the tatsu's sinuous body - no wings - they headed towards a little valley trimmed in on all sides by little mountains or big hills, depandant on your perspective. The valley had at it's center a sparkling lake of crystal-clear water. Kami could see the depths of it, and wondered who possessed it.
The dragon came in for a landing, letting her see that Colonel Montoya was there. The tatsu allowed Kami off it's head once it had come to a complete stop and lowered it's head. Luis Montoya held out his hand to help her down from the height.
Kami knew to behave around the dragon, and that it very likely had a reason for allowing him to be here. "A place like this," Kami remarked; "it must be worth it's weight in gold."
Montoya nodded. "The dons are kept busy squabbling over their own paltry water deposits, thus protecting this place," as the dragon paled into invisibility - the only sign of it's passing was the ripples as it submerged entirely into the lake. "And yet it pales into insignifigance next to such as you.
"I am truly sorry, Kami," Luis apologized. "I know that I should not have felt anger at your siding with the Queen; my emotions overcame me. Can you ever forgive me?" and gave a deep bow.
Kami bit her lip, thinking. Finally, "After a time, I believe so."
"I thank you, Kami-san." Seeing her looking at him appraisingly, "Is there something else?"
"I wish to apologize to you for thinking -" but could not say it.
"It is alright," Luis told her. "'Ill luck, they say, rarely comes alone,' particularly my own."
Kami smiled at that. "I read something like that once," she remarked. "And I was also simply wondering if you had any condiments on you presently."
"Sadly, no," Montoya answered, suspecting something. "Might I inquire as to why?"
Kami's eyes looked down for a moment. "My master once told me that -" and she made sure she remembered the words right, "'It is a saying that a man must eat a peck of salt with his friend before he knows him.'"
Montoya smiled, and gave a slight bow. "I am flattered, senorita, that you consider me even a nominal friend. I am truly touched," and reached up to wipe at the corner of his eye; after that, "And I am also pleased that Hideo has passed on his copy of 'Don Quixote' to one so deserving as you."
"You knew my master?" Kami asked, more than a little surprised.
Luis nodded. "I first met him when I was a youth, callous and uncouth. He helped me to be patient, and taught me something about Nippon...."
~~~~~
MANILLA, SPANISH PHILLIPINES; APRIL 8TH, 1802
The sun was rising over the city of Manilla, a northern city of the once-glorious Spanish Empire in the Phillipines. Having lived in one rising empire or another, kingdoms and chiefdoms too, Luis Montoya was not impressed with the heritage he had been born to.
They'd had to move here, leaving their post in the nation of Air, in the North African heartland. Luis missed his friends, and also was rather upset that they only moved when he was getting fluent in the local language - almost no matter how quickly he picked it up, it was time to go then. Before Air, it had been Morrocco, and before that, Britain....even at a young age, Luis knew they were going further and further.
But it wasn't his parents' fault, Luis Montoya knew. It was that beached whale that had the temerity to call itself an Ambassador for Spain! The man - if it really was one - had been caught with so many women that it was a wonder his wife put up with him at all; for all Luis knew, she didn't.
"Why do they put up with all these scandals?" Luis asked his father. "Why do they not simply send him home and replace him with someone better?"
"Because," his father replied, "the Ambassador has many strong allies in the Royal Court, so he cannot be dismissed."
"Overstuffed peacocks," Luis muttered, refering to the Ambassador and his Cortez, "nothing but useless skirt-chasing blubber."
"Watch your tongue, Luis!" his mother remanded at him.
Luis dipped his head down. "Yes, mother," and went silent. He knew that nobody in this household countered her word; anyone who tried, wound up with a week-long welt.
Young Montoya walked out the front door, not even hearing a 'be home in time for supper' behind him; not from his family. Nobody objected to his going out when he wanted to; why would they? He was a Montoya man: he knew how to fight, how to beat up, how to pummel. Nobody messed with a Montoya twice!
Luis just kept walking, not really minding whereever he ended up this time. With a chuckle, he remembered the time he'd walked into the backstage of a slave auctionyard.
With a start, he bumped into somebody in the here and now. "Hey!" he said, then saw that this wasn't one of those arrogant Chinamen - the difference wasn't blatant, but his eyes had become discerning over the years - this was someone different, a people he'd never seen before. "My apologies," he said in Latin, something he figured was a common language.
"I forgive you," the man told him. "It was an easy mistake: I was not watching where I was going, I suppose."
Luis's eyes widened as he soaked that in: the other man was willing to take the blame? "I am Luis Philip Montoya," he introduced himself.
"I am," the man said, bowing a respectful amount, particularly to a teen, "Kiyomasa Hideo."
TBC
ARCHIVE NOTE: Sequel P-O-W is found on Rodlox's author page on the Cart
http://www.oocities.org/manzanacore/rodloxstories.html
TRIO & QUOTE REPLY #20
RATING: PG - PG13. {mostly for innuendo}.
SUMMARY: Our favorite character gets a very feminine visitor late one night....
~~~~~~
It was a good dream: Myself, a shapely equestrian, and some rope....
And then a chill wind woke me up just when it was getting interesting. It's a considerable breeze, so somebody must have opened the door rather than the window. No knocking, so that leaves two people...
There she is, all in black. I try not to look at her feet... "Is there something in particular you came here for?" I sniff, as much from a nasal itch as any other reason.
"Can't I just stop by and say hello to you?"
I don't answer that...I don't trust myself enough to.
"Are you okay?" she asks me.
Like my last employer said, 'Love is an hourglass where the heart fills as the brain empties.' And here I always thought he'd been a bit loony.
He was right.
She'd never wear her long hair up in pins, rolls, curls, and braids - and damn my leg betraying that thought with a twitch.
"I'd offer you something to eat," I tell her, trying to get her attention away from that traitorous leg, "but my stores are low. Do you like sugar and salt?"
Her eyes light up, her lips...well, best not to say such things. "I knew you liked me."
You have no idea, young lady. "They're over there," motioning towards my satchel and the wooden crate - the one that Senora Alvarado wanted mee to get rid of, though her husband declared that it would stay - it rests upon. I think I need to have my home cleaned professionally again.
She took a handful and chewed it thoughtfully. Uh-oh...I've learned that whenever _anyone_ gets that sort of look...it ends up meaning I run cross-country for one reason or another.
My lady, her name may as well be Midnight for as well as I know her true name, then turns to me and says, "Can I ask you something?"
I brace myself. "You can."
"Something I've never understood, Senhor, is why do you need two coats when you only have one back?"
I decide not to mutter anything, since we both know she has very good ears. Cute ears though, very cute. "It's called a blanket, and I use it because the nights here are very cold."
She smiles....I must resist the smile...must resist... "But you have such lovely chest hair, and your back is magnificent."
My dear, flattery will get you.... "It was a gift." Legs aren't the only things that can be lame. Quick, distract again! "Would you care to go for a stroll?"
"With you?"
My dear, was that an insult or query? "Yes."
"Then sure. Let's go."
I'd leave Tessa a note, but I can't write...besides, I'll be back in my stable by morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Humans are a metaphor for life."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHALLENGE RESPONSE #21.
SERIES: perhaps...the sequel will be 'The Quiet War'.
SUMMARY: A Duke arrives in town, and someone falls. {no, not Job}.
With special thanks to Vicky and Al, you guys did great!
~~~~~
"Senorita," Montoya said, and Tessa stopped walking, dismissed Marta to finish getting groceries. "A word, if I may."
"Of course, Colonel," Maria Theresa told him. "Now, what would you like to talk about?" A pause, pretending to think. "I heard a rumor that the Queen robbed another stagecoach full of gold."
Montoya nodded. "And the driver of the coach may not pull out of his coma, so badly beaten was he."
"The Queen hit him?" an astonished Tessa asked, not remembering throwing that many punches.
"When one is thrown into a pile of granite, senorita, fists are not needed."
Maria Theresa made the appropriate sound of shock. "That's horrible, Colonel. I think I'll say a prayer for him as well, thank you for telling me -- speaking of which, why are you telling me this?"
Montoya shrugged. "I was on my way to Church, to say a prayer for his soul, when I saw you, and thought to ask you something."
"Well, ask away."
"Are you planning on marrying at any point in the near future, senorita?"
"Why Colonel, are you proposing?" Please no, please!
"No, senorita, I was simply curious. After all, do you know who becomes the owner of your hacienda if you have no heirs?"
Montoya's face was angelic innocence. Tessa was suspicious. "The - state?" she guessed.
El Colonel nodded, and Tessa refrained from groaning. "Quite correct, senorita." The Church bells began to ring. "And now, I truly must be going. Pleasant day to you," and he headed toward Church.
~~
Later On, though not yet night, Tessa decided to pay a visit to Dr. Helm. Tessa hoped that the stagecoach driver didn't wake up - she didn't want him to recognize her.
Senorita Alvarado had been bracing herself all day, getting herself ready to confess the truth to him. She rapped on the wooden door.
In less than a half-minute, Doctor Helm had the door opened, his eyes widening, and he pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her. "Have a seat, senorita, he told her. "Or would you prefer to lie down?" with one hand against her forehead."
"I feel fine, doctor," she told him.
Robert looked skeptical at that.
"Really, I do. But why - why did you do - what you just did?"
"You knocked on the door," he said, as that was all the explanation needed.
Tessa shrugged. "I had something to tell you."
"Something important enough to knock for," he commented, impressed. "Okay, what is it?"
"I am the Queen of Swords." Robert started to chuckle. "Really!"
"That's a good one, senorita. I wasn't aware you knew any jokes."
"But I am!" Realizing how that might be interpreted, "I am the Queen!"
"Riiight. And I'm third in line for the British Crown. Now, if you don't mind, I need to clean my instruments; the Queen of Swords's been abusing more of Grisham's soldiers lately, and I don't get paid for treating government employees."
"That doesn't sound fair." Typical Grisham.
"'Fair'? Of course it's fair - it's what I agreed to in my contract."
Montoya suckered you into that sort of stupid deal? Tessa very nearly said that out loud, at the last minute remembering that the Queen would say something like that, not Maria Theresa....Speaking of Montoya... "Doctor Helm, you are a man whom I trust implicitly."
Not sure how to take that sort of compliment, "Thank you," he said hesitantly; "though most people feel that way about their doctor."
"If you knew it would help me, would you marry me?"
Robert chuckled. "Senorita, the widow Gavina is about to be run out of her home because she can't pay her rent; I'd say she needs my help more than you do."
"Montoya's kicking her out?" Tessa asked with indignation perhaps more suited to the Queen.
Helm shook his head. "Not Montoya. Don Vasques," his English mispronouncing the name slightly, "squeezing his peons for more money than even Montoya's asking for. And, to top it all off, the Queen's put her only son into a coma....so much for 'coach drivers having a safer job.
"Now, what do you have that I could possibly want?" Okay, being a woman, that's one.
Tessa tried being defensive slightly. "My family has connections in the Royal Court." Everybody thought that was important, right?
Helm snorted. "Which one? One of the ones in exile, or one of the ones comprised of Napoleon's yes-men?"
Tessa almost sniped at him, but was cut off by the sound of a trumpet. "Who's that?" she asked, though Dr. Helm's attention was already gone, as he went first to the window, then to the door, opening it...
Tessa followed him outside, curious as to what was going on.
Her eyes widened as she saw several men on horseback, clad in what were likely expensive garments, surrounded by men with advanced muskets of sorts. "Who are they?" Tessa whispered to Robert.
"The Dukes of York, Montgomery, and their aides."
"Which is which?"
"The second one on horseback is the Duke of York, the one behind him the Duke of Montgomery," and said duke turned his head in their direction...
And then Tessa got a good look at the duke's face...
Had Tessa not been so high-born, her jaw would have dropped. She opened her mouth to say something, but only a squeak came out.
~~~
"...and then he led his horse over to me, and got down, and took my hand and kissed the back of it," Tessa said, still feeling the electricity that that one gentle peck had brought. She got shivers just thinking about it, good shivers at that.
"And what did you say to him?" Marta asked, humoring her ward. Tessa had just come back only a few minutes ago, and had rambled non-stop. Finally, Marta had asked Tessa to just begin at the beginning.
"I - er, well, actually...I didn't say anything." Wisely, neither did Marta, and she kept her smile hidden. "Colonel Montoya was gracious enough to introduce us...
"And his shoulders, Marta, you should have seen his shoulders. Even his neck...."
"Tessa, you have seen Montoya for months now, and have never commented on his neck before.
Tessa gave an exasperated sigh. "Not the Colonel - the Duke."
Marta sighed, more out of having to put up with Tessa like this. "From your description of him, Santa hElena is being visited by Adonis."
Tessa sighed, remembering how he looked. "Better than Adonis," thinking 'that statue never did anything for me. "More handsome, a nicer smile..."
Marta refrained from saying anything. She had a feeling Tessa was going to be essentially useless for the next few days. Finally, "Did you at least find out his name?"
"Mar-ta!" Tessa said, but nodded. "Ronald Eagbert Sefton." She sighed. "Such a noble name."
Marta tried not to be too obvious in raising an eyebrow. 'Eagbert'?
~~
And Meanwhile, at that very moment, the Duke of Montgomery was seated at an outdoor table of a local restaurant. The meal on the plate before him was quickly cooling in the desert air. "Maria Theresa," he breathed, repeating the name that the local Colonel had given to the vision of pure loveliness.
Captain Grisham nodded, wishing that the duke would hurry up and eat, though knowing that he didn't dare say something like that; there were certain protocols even he wouldn't break.
"Alvarado," Ronald said, tasting the exquisite texture of the name. "What can you tell me about her?"
"A whole bunch. She owns one of the largest grants of land out here, though half of it is nothing more than pure desert; she can be ditzy when she wants to be, but she's a shrewd negotiator. And..."
"And what else?"
Grisham made a face. "She wouldn't let me court her. I don't know if that's because I work for Montoya, or just because of my opinion of her father." Explaining quickly, "She seems to be under the impression that her father was murdered," Grisham explained.
"Was he?"
"I did a thorough investigation, both under the Colonel's supervision, and on my own time. Neither revealed any indication of murder, aside from one man who'd been drunk when the don died and was still drunk when I talked to him."
A polite and gentlemanly cough behind him, and Grisham stood up, taking his leave. The Duke of York, Edmund Hillary, sat down, and the waiter came by to take his order.
Once the server was gone, Edmund asked, "Have you made plans? Our British King's health is weak right now."
"The crown should pass to you, in the event something happens to our Sovereign King," Ronald said calmly.
Edmund of York shook his head. "Your blood tie to the King is stronger than mine. Besides, you would make a fine king."
"It is not a title I would like."
"Who better?" Edmund asked. "You are no Napoleon to take titles he does not deserve. You deserve to be king within your lifetime." A thought as he stroked his short and thick beard. "Hmm, but you would need a queen."
~.~
In Church that evening, Tessa was kneeling and thinking. 'Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.' Tessa never before understood what that Napoleonic phrase had to do with her.
Now, now her mother's glib line made sense. She had to make sure the family line continued, or all the hard work of herself and her father would be dust in the wind.
Tessa smiled. She knew the perfect person to continue with,....but did he feel the same about her?
~.~
That Night, the Queen of Swords was hunting. Hunting in Montoya's bookcase. "Where is that book?" the Queen whispered to herself. She was positive she'd seen it in passing before, on her way to rob Montoya blind...or at least into glasses. Now where was it?
"Aha!" she said a tad too loud considering the late hour. She froze in place, and waited........Montoya did not come, with or without gun. The Queen took the book, and a few others that she thought would come in handy.
Later, as she started to go through the window, she felt something. Something light and gentle. A tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see who it was, she saw the Colonel. "All you had to do was ask," he told her, an enigmatic smile on his face.
~~
Between Mid-Morning And Noon, of the next day, Grisham was escorting the Duke of Montgomery to Colonel Montoya's office-residence.... "It would appear that the people are preparing for a celebration," Duke Ronald observed. "What they are raising - a pin ya tah, yes?"
"A piñata, sire, yes," Grisham answered. "They're celebrating how a common-born soldier who was brutally attacked is finally out of his coma."
"Who would abuse a peasant who works for the provincial government?" Ronald asked. "Some irate tax collector, a wolfhound breeder?"
"While I'm not sure about the latter, the Queen Of Swords often robs the tax shipments we send up to Monterrey."
"A brigand." Grisham nodded. "Then it is a good thing that I am about to do this." 'If there is one thing which I cannot stand, it is this sort of offense registered upon innocent peasantry,' the duke thought to himself; 'but for now, shift the conversation to better things.' "Do you recall our reaction to the Spanish Ambassador's piñata when we were boys?"
Grisham nodded, inwardly chuckling. "You threw the brick, I got the blame, and that horde of alleykids got the candy and coins." And he saw somebody he need a quick talk with. "If you'll excuse me a minute, your Majesty," Grisham asked, and was dismissed briefly. Grisham headed over to where the doc was beating the tar out of some poor and unsuspecting rug much like the Queen beat up soldiers on a regular basis - Grisham filed away the suspicion for later. "Hey doc."
Helm jumped, having not heard or noticed Grisham coming. "What do you want?"
"Hi, how are you, lovely weather we're having," Grisham joked. "I just thought to stop by, say hi to a fellow patriot, and thank you for helping with Lt Gavina as much as you did."
"I was just doing my job," Helm said... "And I'm not an American!"
Grisham shrugged, starting to smile; Helm got nervous. "I never said you were. Matter'o'fact, neither'm I."
This got Helm to start laughing. "Riiight. Captain Marcus Grisham -"
"Sir Micheal Clancey Peter Killiad Grisham," he interupted, correcting, "loyal servant of His Royal British Majesty."
"You're joking," Helm remarked. "Good one - you nearly convinced me."
"I do not joke," Grisham's voice returning to his natal Thames accent, "particularly when it comes to loyalty, or to my fellow British citizens."
"And why are you telling me this?" Particularly now?
Grisham tilted his head, looking at Helm in an amused fashion. "You sure you were in the military?"
It clicked. "Because this way, if anyone calls you by your real name, you'll know who leaked it."
He patted Helm on the shoulder. "You see, you're not as dim as you act sometimes."
"Hold on," Helm said before Grisham could walk away. Darting inside, Helm returned and placed a medicine bottle in the Captain's hand. "For the Gavinas." Grisham nodded and left...
He rejoined Duke Ronald at the entrance of Montoya's office-residence.
"For the third time, sir," the guard said, "nobody's allowed in there for any reason."
"I am here to see Colonel Montoya," the duke said.
"Sorry, but the Colonel said No Visitors."
"I am the Duke of Montgomery, soldier. English nobility," having seen the N word get people moving before.
"The Colonel said before - that England and Spain were not - not ...." and grimaced, having forgotten the rest of it.
"- were always there to lend assistance whenever possible," Grisham corrected helpingly to the soldier. "I'll take over. Go see to your family."
"Really?" asked an excited soldier.
"Really. Now go," and watched him run away. Opening the door, "After you."
"That was frighteningly easy."
Grisham nodded. "I know. Unfortunately, what few of the best and brightest this desert churns out quickly get beaten senseless by the Queen of Swords."
"Hrmm," was all Ronald said, and they made the rest of the journey to Montoya's quarters in silence. Grisham knocked.
"Enter," Montoya's voice said, sounding a tiny bit annoyed, but knowing how the colonel was at hiding it, Grisham felt sorry for whomever it was directed at.
The doors open, they saw that the Colonel was standing next to his little round table. "It would seem, Capitan," Montoya greeted, holding up one of those dammable cards, "that home security systems leave much to be desired."
"So it would, sir," Grisham said.
"Perhaps I can be of some assistance, Colonel Montoya," the Duke suggested. "I, Sir Ronald Eagbert Sefton, Duke of Montgomery, and servant of His Royal Majesty, have a business proposition for you," and paused.
"Do not hesitate on my account, good sir," Montoya said. "Please, continue."
"I wish to buy this territory from you, Colonel," Ronald said conversationally. "Shall wesay," and named a figure that nearly made Montoya's jaw drop.
~~tbc.
And no, the figure wasn't Lucy or Kami.
~~~~~
PART 4
Before The Conversation Could Progress Much Further Than Price, there was a knocking at the door. Again. Montoya wondered internally what he'd done to make him so popular today; after all, nobody'd been hung yet. It knocked again.
'Now what?' Montoya wondered. "Enter," he instructed. To the Duke, "If you would pardon me a moment?" and got a nod of permission. Going to the door which was opening, a soldier handed the Colonel a tube. Montoya recognized this one as Monterrey's favorite errand boy.
Fishing a reale out of his pocket, Montoya tipped the exhausted lad and dismissed him.
The duke stood up. "Well, Colonel, I would not want to keep you from important things, so I will return at a later time; this is acceptible?" Confused, Montoya nodded. What was going on here? Was there some sort of plot going on to unbalance, unhinge him?
The duke headed for the door, with Grisham actually opening the door for somebody other than Senora Hidalgo. Curiouser and curiouser, Montoya mused.
"Afternoon, Colonel," Grisham said with a suspicious amount of sincerity as he too left.
When the door closed, Montoya was alone. Seeing nothing else to do, as the Queen had taken the book he'd started reading yesterday, he opened the tube, removed the message, and read it...
Montoya's eyes grew very wide.
~~
Meanwhiles At The Alvarado Hacienda, Tessa was poring over the books that she'd borrowed from the Colonel's personal library. Half of the books were opened, and those which were not, were heavily bookmarked - mostly Tessa's.
Marta looked at the crowded table and sighed frustratedly: she'd just cleaned that off, and now it was covered again. "At least it is not mud," she quietly consoled herself with.
"What?" Tessa asked, lifting her head from the book, pausing in her attempt to translate this English phrase into comprehensable Spanish. "Marta, did you say something?"
"No, Tessa, I did not." I am thankful Montoya is experiencing a lull now; I do not think the Queen could put in an appearance even if the situation required it. "What are you doing now?"
Tessa sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Trying to read English laws. For example, did you know -" and provided an example that made no sense to Marta, though it was faintly familiar:
"Tessa, I speak only Church Latin, nothing more."
Tessa's face fell. She hadn't even realized she was switching languages. "I'm sorry, Marta."
"It's okay. I was on my way out anyway," she reassured her ward.
"Okay," Tessa said, returning her attention to the books. He was worth it; she was sure of it.
~~
Walking Away Outside The Office-Residence, Captain Grisham asked his superior, "If I may inquire, sir, do you know what was in that message roll?"
The duke nodded. "I have a strong suspicion, yes." To keep Grisham from figitting, "Before coming here," Ronald told Grisham, "I made a stop in Monterrey, where I learned that the Viceroy was planning on withdrawing all soldiers from this area, and leaving Colonel Montoya alone."
Grisham's eyes went wide briefly. "The Colonel was going to get to keep Santa hElena?" Man, some guys get all the breaks.
"Indeed, and I believe he will accept my purchase of what is presently his."
One thing puzzled Grisham still. "But why buy the town?"
Ronald stopped walking. "You said that Senorita Alvarado's parents were both dead, correct?" and got a nod. "Is there someone with whom I might begin negotiations to gain permission to court the Senorita?"
If Grisham'd eaten recently, he would have choked on the food. "You're going to use the pueblo as a - an engagement gift?"
The duke shrugged. "A small token."
Grisham envied women their ability to faint with such ease. "Umm, well, there's the senorita's duenna, Marta." A gypsy, but you don't need to know that. Stall! "Can I buy you lunch, sir?"
The duke shook his head. "No, that won't be neccessary, though thank you for the offer." He then flagged down a carriage.
~~~tbc
author: now, if this were a normal ep, the Duke might try to take advantage of Tessa, then the Queen would show up and give him a stern talking-to, chasing him outta pueblo {town}, etc....and reaffirming to Tessa that she can't have relationships.
AUTHOR: Babnol.
SPOILERS: Fever. set after Fever.
NOTES: I'm visiting my cousin, and he was kind enough to let me use his account for a little while.
~~~~
The only good side to the plague, Colonel Montoya felt, was that those who had already caught the Fever were immune to the Plague. This meant that now he had only the other half of his army, a half weakened by the Fever, as were the peons who could have otherwise been enlisted.
The smell of bile was a faint tinge in the air, made that way by the improvements that Montoya had made to the sanitation system after coming here. It could have been far far worse. Montoya's mind bucked at the thought of his dear city engulfed in toxic clouds, buildings covered in muck, and sewers clogging regularly.
And Montoya knew just who to go see. Somebody who had better survive all of this...or else.
~~
At the Hidalgo Hacienda, don Gaspar Hidalgo was fretting. But he was resolute in one thing: if anyone could cure his ill petal, Vera, he would do anything, anything, to repay.
~~
Montoya knocked on the wooden door before hearing a "You can - come in," from Doctor Helm within. Entering, El Colonel saw the doctor sitting on a chair by his table, a handbook in one hand, and a bucket in his lap.
"Really, doctor," Montoya said, raising an eyebrow, "the Kama Sutra? One would think that you would be hard at work towards finding a cure."
Helm looked up at Montoya with red bloodshot eyes, the sort from both staying up late and spending a lot of time bent over a bucket. "Don't start with me. I'm glad somebody in this blink town's learned to knock." He paused, his cheeks inflating, then he swallowed the bile back down. "I've been over every book I own - nothing covers this."
He sighed. "I don't even have any nurses to take over while I'm incapacitated," Helm complained.
"Do not blame me, senor," Montoya advised. "I have not prevented you from recruiting among the populace any aides." Montoya paused, considering; "In fact, I do believe that a number of senoritas would love to assist you in any endevour."
"That's what worries me," Helm replied. "But, if you could, Colonel, could you not talk so loud?" his eyes squinting in pain at the throbbing.
"Of course," Montoya quietly agreed. He'd had headaches aplenty since the Queen arrived, few before then. "Of course, you know what they say, doctor, that when the head aches, all members partake of it's pain."
Robert didn't have much of a chance to glare before his head went back to the bucket, the handbook dropping forgotten to the table.
"I apologize for discommoding you, doctor," Montoya said, standing up. "I will leave you alone now," and left. Helm ignored the bad French pun.
~~
At The Alvarado Hacienda, senorita Maria Theresa was trying to push herself out of bed. She'd kicked off the covers earlier, her face sweating then just as now....although there were chilled goosebumps all over the rest of her. "I'm burning up while freezing cold," she muttered, and immediately regretted saying anything - her head started throbbing again.
Bom-bom bom-bom bom-bom. Her head was living the more torturous elements of that Poe person's 'Tell-Tale Heart' horror. Tessa was starting to wish she'd never read that filth, even if she had been a curious teen at the time, experimenting with new literary devices - new to her, at least.
When she was finally in a sitting-up position - after her arms complained muchly - Tessa could see her reflection in the big mirror. She was clad in a chemisette and the proper associated lower-garments, given this illness that beseiged her.
There, beside her mirror, Tessa could see the croquet mallet that her viajero del mundo - world traveller - cousin had sent to her. Tessa hadn't mmet him often, so she wondered why her father refered to Cousin Diego as 'bohemian.'
...And that mallet reminded her that she'd seen an identical one beneath Captain Grisham's bed.
~~
At The Grisham Residence, sitting with as much ease and comfort as his present condition might allow, Marcus Grisham was paging through one of his many books, looking for a clue that might solve this. After all, if he could cure a plague like this, a promotion might be soon at hand. It was a long shot, but the chance was great.
"'Rete Mirabalus'," Grisham read, reading to himself the section on the internal cooling system of sheep and lambs. Such words as that always reminded him of his veterinary teacher back in Lancaster County, and Teach's love of saying things like 'mirable dictu', which spurred on jokes by the rowdier kids; back then, Marcus'd just stayed quiet and studied.
Five pages - and one bucket use - later, Marcus had found what he believed was it!: "'Symptoms include a quartan cycle of increasing headaches and nausea, with vommitting on a semi-regular basis.'" After putting a bookmark there, he slammed the book shut triumphantly.
~~
Passing by the doc's place, Marcus remembered something his older sister had told him: 'always forgive your enemies - they hate it when you do that!'
Granted, him and the doc weren't exactly enemies, though they weren't bowling buddies either.
~~
Once inside Montoya's office, Captain Grisham outlined his plan to his military commander.
"And what are you suggesting we use to treat this plague, Capitan?" Montoya asked. "Limes and grapes perhaps?" the former being often carried on the visiting ships to the province, and the latter was abundantly grown hereabouts.
"Actually, Colonel," Grisham said, then coughed into his hankerchief, little sputnum errupting this time. "Actually, the best cure is oranges."
Montoya LOLed. "Grisham, the sickness has reached your brain. This is Alta California, not Florida - there are no orange groves, no great abundance of the fruits."
Grisham shrugged as much as he could without another repeat of breakfast. "Nonetheless, Colonel, oranges are the best chance this pueblo has of recovery."
~~~~~~~~
END
By Rodlox
Rodlox@hotmail.com
NOTE: Brig, before you shoot me, bear in mind this was all Job's doing!
~~~
"You're a very dotty walker, doc," Grisham said with a straight face.
"You know," Helm replied, raising an eyebrow slightly, "if I didn't already know what that meant, I'd hit you."
"You've been potatory, haven't you?"
~~meanwhile...
Colonel Luis Montoya was going over his finances and the finances of the pueblo.
All of the dons had puffed up when they'd heard that, each one taking credit for Montoya's hard work.
There were times when the Colonel began to wonder if he should simply stop making the donations, or just taking credit for them. No to the second one - who would believe him? As for the first...he was beginning to regret learning that recommendation to give anonamously.
"Is that another bout of fisicuffs that I hear?" Montoya asked himself, walking towards the balcony. How predictable - or repeditive? - the Captain and Doctor were fighting again. Montoya decended the stairs to the ground, taking his time, letting them use up much of their energy against one another.
When he was close enough, he drew out his pistol, aimed...
And fired it into the air.
The loud retort from it's muzzle was enough to make the combatants give pause, looking at Montoya while they each caught their breath.
"What am I to do with you?" Montoya asked, speaking to both as one. "Should I construct a ring and charge admission?" Actually, that was not a bad idea...
~~meanwhile....
Little Maria Rosa Gonyale' walked from her front door to five feet in front of it before sucumbing to a raucous cough. The nun who tended to her and the other girls hurried to where the sound was coming from.
"Rosa," Sister Maria said patiently, "why don't we go inside now, okay? I think it's almost time for crafts," knowing how much the little girl loved to work with her hands.
Rosa nodded. "Okay," she said with a hoarse voice, a voice that tore one's soul to hear a child in so much pain.
~~meanwhile.....
Maria Theresa Alvarado was sitting in front of her mirror, waiting for Marta to finish doing her hair.
"So, Marta, who do you think is behind these gifts to the orphanage this week?" Her hair-brusher shrugged, having no guesses. "I bet it's Don Gaspar. It would be just like him to do something like that!"
The donations, oft in the form of cash and gold, had been arriving at the Church for more than a few months now....more than could be accounted for by the Queen's `donations.'
~~meanwhile.....
As he walked back to his office, "A man cannot be too careful in the choosing of his enemies," Montoya commented. "However, you seem to be enjoying your selection."
Grisham nodded dutifully. "My mom always told me, if I'm going to do something, don't do it half-assed." Wait, wasn't that dad?
Montoya wisely didn't say anything.
~~later....
Driving the horses on her way to town, Tessa stopped in time to keep the equines from running over somebody lying in the middle of the road. Tessa got out to render aid...and saw who it was. He was dusty and dirty, but recognizably....
"Job, what are you doing here?" Tessa asked. "I mean, not that's it's not good to see you, because it is, and -"
"Epicuration," was Job's one-word answer.
~~after arriving at the pueblo....
"I don't like this," Tessa remarked. "It's too quiet."
Job laughed at that, a barking sound. Laughter had long been denied him. "Everything, even silence - as you call it - has beauty...but not everyone sees it."
Finally, there was somebody in the pueblo: a woman and a child, the former walking towards the later...
Then, before their very eyes, the woman reached out and touched the little girl square in the chest...a pause of a few seconds, and the girl fell to the ground. The woman walked away.
Instinctively, Tessa jumped out of the carriage, running for the girl. When she got there, joined by a nun from the orphanage the child'd come from, the girl was dead. Sister Maria crossed herself and thanked Tessa for trying to help.
"'Bring little children as well as adults,'" Job quoted. Tessa hadn't heard him walk up.
"Who the - what the - Who is she?"
Job blinked. "Like my own, her name is unpronouncable." Tessa growled. Job decided he could be a little helpful... "You know, like Diogenese and his lantern, searching for - well, you know."
"No," Tessa replied, shaking her head. "I don't."
"Not you, so don't worry."
"Then what is she after??"
Job smiled as best he could, which wasn't much. "Why not simply ask your priest? He is quite knowledged about this sort of thing."
~~later, in Church....
"Father?" Tessa called out, part of her wincing at how she was yelling in the House of God. Then again, the other part rationalized, I've also fought with swords among these pews. "Father?"
"There is no need to raise your voice, child," Father Jacob O'Neil told her. "I hear you." As did half the pueblo, I suspect.
"Father, can we talk in your office?" she asked. "It has to do with a killer angel."
The priest's eyes widened, and he ushered her into the Church's bookroom. Tessa was good enough with Latin to recognize a copy of this past Sunday's sermon on the table. And by the door, hanging on a hook -
"What is this?" Tessa asked, pointing to a pin on a plaid - what were those things called? Taurahs?
"The cloth is called a tartan." Then, seeing where she was pointing, "This?" the Father asked. "This is only a painting of her Portugese Majesty. I commissioned it shortly after I had the honor of a short meeting with her."
"A cameo brooch," Tessa said. "Lovely."
He smiled. "I thank you. Of course, all that was before I recieved my call from God." He paused. "Now tell me, senorita, what was the real reason you wanted to see me?"
"I was telling you the truth, Father. There is an angel in the pueblo, and she is killing everyone she touches!"
One eyebrow went up. "How is she killing?" Tessa described exactly what she'd seen. The Father made a few "hrrmm"ing sounds, and finally pulled out a thick tome from the central bookshelf.
Leafing through the pages, Father O'Neil arrived at a pair of pages in a language Tessa did not recognize. "What does it say, Father?"
"'The weigher of souls,'" he answered. "In Egypt, they called her Ma'at, and thought her a goddess. But also in Egypt, she took the life of all the firstborns...all but the Hebrews."
"Does it say how to stop her?"
"Apart from warding her off with the blood of a lamb, nothing short of God Himself can stop her."
~~a few minutes later....
Respiracion touched Luis Montoya square in the chest, the same as with everyone else, and placed his soul on her scales....the scales of justice, that were only visible to those about to die. The scales tottered and fell in a way that was of little surprise to either of them.
"Even if there were a Hell," Respiracin told him, "you would not be heading there. It is Heaven for you."
When she let go of his chest, Montoya collapsed to the ground.
"Colonel!" Tessa cried out, starting to run for him. Respiracion held out her hand, one finger pointing, and Tessa stopped before she was too close. "Why??" Tessa demanded.
Respiracion tilted her head, and looked from Tessa to Job, who was still at a not-so-close distance.
Tessa turned to look at Job, keeping one eye on the angel of death. "Why?" she asked him.
"He who was unappreciated shall be appreciated, and he whom do my work shall join me," Job answered. Then, "Where did you think the Church was getting the money to finance it's works?"
"From the Colonel?" Tessa asked. Both angel and ex?-angel nodded. "And now what?"
"Now, her job is done here," Job said. Respiracin nodded, and left in a way that only an angel can.
END
CHALLENGE#27 for the week of 07-22-01
TRIO CHALLENGE: woman's glove, a boulder, sage (the herb)
spoilers: Honor Thy Father
~~~~~~
The Queen of Swords looked around for the tenth time. The note had said that there was information about the murder of don Alvarado.
This wasn't a trap, the Queen was sure of it. For one thing, she couldn't see any masses of horses or footsoldiers approaching, leaving, or traveling parallel to here.
Only one horse, with one rider on it. And the Queen met them both at the designated meeting place: the boulder by the cave entrance.
It was only then that the Queen could see who the informant was. It was newcomer Cristina Maideira, fresh off the boat from Spain.
"Wonderful night for a ride," the Queen said, trying to make conversation.
Cristina got off her horse. "Riding is one thing. Speaking is another."
"Then talk," the Queen prompted.
Cristina nodded. "We're a chasm, the two of us," Cristina remarked casually, "when it comes to don Alvarado."
"How so?" the Queen asked.
"'The line between love and obsession is drawn by only circumstance'," she answered cryptically. "Have you not found that to be so, Maria Theresa?"
"I'm - I'm not sure what you mean," the Queen said, nervous.
"It is quite simple, really.
"I was born with the Christian name of Cristina Dorotea Alvarado," Cristina said. "Much as it may shame me, we have the same blood racing in our veins; that is how I knew you."
In the next instants, the next went up, ensnaring the Queen - trapping Tessa - in a hanging net. It was not much longer before she was asleep.
~~
When she came to, the Queen found herself still in the net. Outside the trap, Cristina was examining one of the Queen's gloves, as well as the material of her mask. One hand automatically flew up to feel for her mask, but Tessa realized that it was no longer there.
"What is that smell?" Tessa asked.
"Sage," Cristina replied. "In moderation, nearly anything can be tolerable - even pain, after a time. But in large quanities, even medicinal herbs can be overwhelming, don't you agree?"
Avoiding the question, Tessa asked one of her own: "Why are you doing this?"
"Shh," the other woman shushed her. "Patience. After all, 'In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.'" Seeing Tessa's blank face, "One of William Blake's works.
"Good God," she muttered. "How can you call yourself a noble when you can't even read??" Tessa remained silent. "How about some Fielding, surely you know his works." More silence from her sister. "No, not even 'The prudence of the best heads is often defeated by tenderness of the best hearts'?"
"Does that mean you're going to let me go?" Tessa asked innocently. She had a feeling that batting her eyelashes and looking pretty wouldn't help her here.
Tessa's sister chuckled. "I never said I would. There be none here who have tenderness for you in their heart."
"But," Tessa objected, "but you said so yourself - you're my sister!"
"Yes," Cristina agreed. "Your half-sister."
"My - but how?"
She chuckled heartily. "I take it your guardian has never explained the facts of life to you then. Very well, I shall." Taking a deep breath, "Several decades ago, our father - don Alvarado - married my mother, a noblewoman. Then, after I was born, he left us so that he could chase some brown-eyed garden-hoeing _Azteca_ in a skirt."
"My mother?" Tessa guessed, and got a nod in answer.
"Quite right. Point of fact, you shouldn't have that family crest in your living room - of the two of us, only I am _armigerous_...you are just a bastard."
Tessa narrowed her eyes. "You're awfully sure of yourself, cocky, and -"
"I am hardly _rodomontade_, not when I only speak the truth, however unwelcome it may be," and walked to the other end of the cavern.
"Did our father tell you of his connections with the Spanish Royal Court?" to which Tessa nodded. "Odd then, because all of his connections were through my mother. And even after he abandoned us, he talked openly about taking a huge swath of land, all for himself - his own private empire."
"No!" Tessa cried out. "He would never have done that!"
Cristina paused in mid-stride and turned around. "No? I have documents penned by our father himself, signed affadavits that he was a rogue. What evidence would you like then, hmm? His own word, spoken to us?"
"Sounds good to me," Tessa replied, calmer.
But she just snorted at that. "You've been spending too long with that galleyworker of yours, Marta Crispin. Who knows how far she's corrupted you." A thought occured to her. "When was the last time you went to church?"
Tessa hesitated before answering, which may have answered her question already. "It's not as simple as that. As the Queen of Swords, I can't -"
"- face our Savior, His Father, or even any of His ordained servants?" Cristina guessed. After a bit, "Then you should have no problem with who authorized our father's death. It was my mother, through Monterrey."
"What??" Tessa asked. "But - but - but that's a grave sin!" Cristina cocked her head, looking at her half-sister with an amused look.
"And abandoning one's wife and daughter is not? Polygamy is not? Willfully disobeying and fostering dissent against their Most Christian Majesties is not?" Cristina took a breath. "Think carefully."
Tessa sighed. "How did she do it?"
"The Maideiras and the Montoyas are old allies, back to Roman times, if you look closely at history. It wasn't hard for her to convince him to help right a wrong."
END
rating: PG-17 for language, innuendo
quote: "One hand fired the gun, but there were many fingers on the trigger." {something the QOS
writers and fans abruptly forgot}.
note: Brig's going to shoot me for quoting Methos.
also: I started writing this after last week's Challenge things were posted. this has all the challenge items
from last week and this week.
~~~~~
MID-DAY, THE PAST....
Help arrived minutes too late.
Captain Marcus Grisham, loyal servant of the Crown, drew his horse to a stop. He'd let the man's horse tire itself before giving chase to it.
"Rafael Alvarado," Grisham informed the fallen corpse, "you're under arrest for plotting against His Most Royal Majesty."
~~~~~
THE PRESENT...
EARLY MORNING....
"Some days," Marcus Grisham said as he rolled over in bed, "if it's all worth it."
"If you are going to complain, Marcus," Vera said.
"I know, I know," Marcus answered. "There's the door.
"It's just - don't you get tired of all this? The lies and the secrecy?"
Vera sighed. He was in one of those moods again; they were becoming frequent. "Yes, Marcus, I do tire. But we must keep secret. Otherwise...
Marcus nodded, kissing those lovely lips of hers. The alternative to their actions, it was unthinkable.
~~~~~
LATE MORNING....
Seamus Ness, emissary from the British Royal Court, ambassador to this heathenistic realm of scorpions and Spaniards - and which was worse, he wondered - walked from the stagecoach into town.
Town, pueblo, whatever....and nearly ran over one of the residents - the Spaniard kind, not the scorpions.
"What a lovely bijou," Tessa complimented, looking at the thing wrapped around his wrist.
Ness snorted. To him, it was bad enough getting jokes about his Celt heritage - now this fop was too? "Trust a Spaniard to use a French word like that." He looked closely at her. "But then again, I suppose it's not your fault your country rolled over with legs wide."
Tessa slapped him - most very quite hard - and walked off in a huff. So angry was Tessa that she nearly ran Doctor Helm over.
To be fair, his head was still turned toward the building he had just left - the house of ill repute - saying "Try to stay off the saddle and that leg for a couple of weeks," and then crashed into Tessa.
"What were you doing there?" Tessa demanded, a large part of her feeling hurt that he'd go there before going to her or the Queen. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."
"Good."
"Good???" Tessa repeated.
Helm nodded. "Yes. After all, the doctor-patient priviledge applies even to Spanish women."
"Those weren't women! They're - They're - they're --"
"Demons, fallen angels, temptresses, harlots, thieves, apple-eating tarts, swine?" Robert guessed. Tessa nodded. "So was my mother; she raised me in the slums of London." Then, "What was that all about?" asked doctor Helm, attempting to change the subject.
"What was what?"
"You were already in a bad mood before I said anything. I'd like to know why."
"He insulted me, doctor!" Tessa exclaimed. "He insulted me, my country, and her soldiers!"
With an eyebrow raised, Robert replied, "I'm sure it was just an obiter dictum."
"A what??"
"A passing comment, something said offhandedly."
That didn't help Tessa's mood any.
~~~~~
THAT NIGHT...
For the Queen of Swords, it was simplicity itself to jimmy the window open. She wanted to talk with this Brit, to try to convince him to leave here now
"How did you know I'd be here?" the Queen asked.
"Puh-leese," Grisham said in English, then switched back to Spanish. "Everytime somebody knew arrives in town, you show up in their bedroom." A pause, jokingly considering, "Even the doc's old flame."
"Is there a point to all this?" the Queen retorted.
"Oh, just idle wondering so far."
"What I do is none of your business."
A chuckle; but instead of him ribbing her about what that statement might mean, he said: "Has it ever occurred to you," Grisham asked, "that maybe I'm not on Montoya's side?"
"Sure, Capitan," she answered. "You're on your own side."
"Are you Catholic, senora?"
"I am, not that it matters now - does it?"
"Then you know about Judas?"
The Queen paused, backing up, away from his sword. "You're trying to kill Montoya."
Grisham grimaced. "Not just kill him - discredit him. Make it easy for me to take over."
"Hardly a recommendation," the Queen quipped. "And then what? You'd turn over a new leaf?"
Grisham smiled. "Privledged information, bunky. And you don't get it for free." And, with that, he turned and headed off.
The Queen was too busy considering what he'd meant to chase him down.
~~~~~
THAT NIGHT....
Tessa steadfastly refusd to discuss what had happened between Tessa and the Doctor during her ride into the pueblo, leaving Marta to wonder. But Tessa did talk about something -
"And how do you know if you can trust what Grisham is saying?" Marta asked.
"Because if there's even a chance that what he's saying is the truth," Tessa answered, "I have to take it."
"Why?"
"Whenever I'm caught between two evils, I take the one I've never tried," Tessa said, trying her mask.
~~
NEXT DAY, HELM'S OFFICE....
"Yes?" Robert called as someone knocked on his door. "Come in, it's open."
Captain Grisham entered. "And what can I do for you?" he inquired.
"Just a little something," Grisham replied, shutting the door behind him.
~~
NEARLY NOONTIME....
"Capitan?" the Queen called softly. The man didn't seem to be in his home. "Where are you?" Silence....
"Rule number one," Grisham then told her, coming out of nowhere from behind, arms encircling her. "Don't try to sneak up on a soldier."
"It's worked so far," the Queen shrugged.
"Those weren't soldiers," Grisham remarked. "Those were conscripts. I would have thought that you of all people would comprehend such a distinction."
Like Montoya, the Queen also became nervous when the capitan used big words. Like now, for example.
And in one of his hands, there was an oddly-designed sword. It started ordinarily enough, but scant inches from the pommel, it curved in a `U' and ended in a sharp point. She did not know that it was an Egyptian weapon.
"One of the really fun things about this," Marcus told her, lightly pressing the flat of the Egyptian blade in her tummy, "is that it's double-sided. A.k.a, it cuts both ways." He cleared his throat. "So don't try fighting.
"After all, my intentions are purely honorable."
The Queen snorted. "And I'm the Archduchess of Vienna."
Grisham chuckled. "No, no you're not. I met her once - nice old lady, if a tad crochety." A pause. Tessa found she could breathe normally, so long as she didn't try for any long wheezing breaths. "Now, I'm going to ask you one last time to stay out of my business," with the final sylable, he let go of her, the blade harmlessly going to his side.
The Queen turned around and stepped away from him. "Fighting for justice is why I'm here. I'm not going to stop just because you ask me to!" Grisham chuckled, a "tsk-tsk" sound coming after the laugh. "You find justice amusing?"
"Oh, only when the search for it only serves to reinforce the lack thereof. Ya see, you're fighting the corruption in the Spanish system. You're not going to find an answer in it."
"What would you suggest?" she asked.
Grisham shrugged. "Legal alternatives. Other nations." A pause. "Something other than the project don Alvarado held."
"And what was that?" she asked.
Marcus gave a bemused look. "You're the Queen Of Swords -- don't you know?" and headed for the door. "Oh, and don't try following me."
~~
A FEW MINUTES LATER....
"Thank you again," Vera said, kissing her Gaspar on the cheek affectionately. The delicate feel of the pearls on her new necklace, lovely.
"It was nothing, my petal," he told her as they stepped down from the walkway around one cluster of stores, and walked towards the next one. After all, Gaspar needed a new tie for the upcoming social event.
They heard hoofbeats approaching, and turned to see the Queen of Swords roaring down an alleyway - towards them!
The Queen didn't see them - she was looking over her shoulder, congratulating herself on turning the tables: from her following Grisham, to him giving chase to her.
Vera was frozen, caught by fear. It was too late for the Queen to stop her horse from hitting Vera.
Vera fell.
Making sure her horse side-stepped the fallen Vera, the Queen raced for the open mesas . . . she knew that don Hidalgo would see to Vera -and, if she would allow herself to be honest with herself, Tessa didn't want to see the anger in his eyes.
She prefered sunburn and heat.
~~
MUCH, MUCH LATER, IN TESSA'S DREAM [while out in the desert]....
Remembering what Marta had told her about dreams being a place for wish fufilment, Tessa put her hand into the saddlebag. Reaching into the saddlebag she felt a live object that squirmed in her grasp.
Tessa sqeezed, in case it was about to attack her.
Out of nowhere, in the air, the wind filled with a distinctive scream - the like of which she had never heard before. A very British scream of pain - and it was becoming soprano.
Then the winds were silent.
But now there were two people, one on either side of her. Don Hidalgo to her left, Captain Grisham to her right.
Gaspar spoke to her: ""Regret and misery like ashes in the mouth"
"Always do right," Grisham told her. "This will gratify some people and astonish the rest."
Also remembering what Marta had said about the dreams being able to torture people, Tessa spurred her horse to trot away from them both. Trotting, trotting, trotting away . . . up to a crevice in the ground.
A crevice that grew and grew and grew.
Tessa urged her horse to jump.
Jumping across the crevice, the rider missed the other side by inches.
~~~~~
After a minute of not falling - or moving at all - Tessa opened her eyes.
The desert was gone. Her horse was gone. The saddlebag was gone. Everything was gone....except the spiderwebs that were everywhere around her. It was as though she was in a cobweb-filled house, though she couldn't see anything but the webs.
"Hello?" Tessa called out.
"Hello," answered a man's voice. In front of her, forming from cobwebs, stood a man.
"Who are you?" Tessa asked, not recognizing him.
"Your culture has no delineation for me yet, so you can call me Zeit, if it helps any." Just one name among many.
"Is this still the dream?"
Zeit shook his head. "No, I made certain long ago - or was it recently? - that I could never enter someone's mind."
"Then, am I dead?" Zeit shook his head again. "Then - what - where am I?"
"Think of this as a place well-hidden, Maria Theresa," Zeit told her; zero-space was a convoluted topic.
"Okay," Tessa said, reasoning that at least she now had a label for it.
"You have to stop, Tessa. You must cease your attacks."
"The peasants depend on me," Tessa said, defending her actions. "My father - his legacy, his memory, his spirit - depends on me!"
Zeit looked amused. "And those few outweigh the despair you are unwittingly inflicting on the children of the future?"
Now Tessa was baffled. "What are you talking about?"
One of the spiderwebs in front of Tessa turned into a window, a peek into "The future," Zeit confirmed. "Or rather, one potential future." Cocking his nonsubstantial head, "This one is what will happen if you continue your act as the Queen."
A voice seemed to rise from the image, almost dispassionate: "Another car bomb went off in the West Bank today, signalling an end to the three weeks of peace between..." and the voice changed to cover: "This day marks the thirtieth anniversary of the end of the Second World War," and showed Tessa the images what'd lain within the German Death Camps.
"Dios Mio!" Tessa exclaimed, one hand flying up, covering her mouth. The spiderweb returned to being just a spiderweb. "Thank you," she told Zeit.
"You are welcome."
"What was that?" she asked. "How could my actions have caused all that?"
Zeit would have sighed if he-it had been human, or even just living; instead, Zeit simply explained. "Luis Rimera Montoya came to Santa Helena as a clerk originally. He worked up through the ranks, patiently, steadily, relying only on his good deeds.
"Seeing what was around him, how hard the Military Governors and dons were squeezing the peasants, hearing the rumors about revolts led by the dons, Montoya formulated a plan should he ever come to a position of leadership."
"What sort of plan?" Tessa asked.
"Quite simply, a plan which would introduce reform, changing part of the social structure of the land in favor of the peasantry -- inspired, in part, by the Russian Tsar's similar actions." A psuedo-sigh. "Unfortunately, he has been prevented by you from carrying these out."
"And if I did stop?" Tessa asked, figuring that it never hurt to ask.
Zeit smiled. "Nations love to copy another's successes. Montoya's works would have spread across the globe." Another spiderweb lit up with images. A not-quite-dispassionate voice narrated: "And today marks the thirtieth anniversary of the International Space Station. Workers from Chile to the Ukraine recieved a pardon to take part in the celebrations. In the State of Japan and the Ottoman Emirate, a total of one hundred and fifty political prisoners were pardoned."
Tessa made a I'm-thinking face. "Now or later, that's the deal, isn't it?" Zeit nodded. "Are you sure those are the only two futures possible?"
Zeit knew what she was getting at. "There are other futures in potential from this point - but they differ largely in detail; there are only so many paths to tread."
Zeit flicked a coin up, from a hand that had previously been empty.
Tessa caught it as it fell back down. Looking it over, she could recognize none of the inscriptions on it. "What is this?"
"A five-denarus piece," Zeit told her patiently. "The picture on the other side of it is of Nissur, the _khshathrapavan_ of Athens."
"The who?" Tessa asked. "And why have I never heard of him?"
If Zeit had been real, he would have rolled his eyes. "The satrap who oversees the Athenian lands for the Persian king." He-it paused. "Would you like to meet him? He's quite sociable...and single."
"But if I leave Santa Helena -" Tessa started to say.
Zeit nodded. "That's right - you can't return. But remember what we discussed." Considering. "You have a week to choose."
~~~~~
Maria Theresa Alvarado woke up, finding herself lying alone on a white, fluffy thing. Roughly rectangular, the thing was holding her passively about a foot off the ground. As comfy as it was, Tessa knew she had to get going.
After getting off the thing, the Serta mattress vanished, as if it'd never been there.
Tessa headed for home.
~~~~~
IN THE REAL WORLD, AT THE ALVARADO HACIENDA.....LATER ON....
Marta was saying a prayer to the god she worshipped, when she heard a book slam just behind her. Marta nearly jumped; then, as calmly as she could, she turned around --
And saw Capitan Grisham.
"Got a little caught in the moment, Marta?" Grisham asked as he walked in, Vera right behind him. Grisham muttered to himself and Vera, "She should be thankful we didn't come with ill intent.
"The present moment is a powerful goddess," Marta answered, a half-retort...
And before Marta knew it, Grisham was behind her, twisting an arm behind her body. "Be glad we're not Spaniards," he advised, "or we'd have you on your back screaming -" and stopped. "Wait, that didn't come out right."
Vera covered her mouth to hide a smile.
"Why are you here?" Marta asked.
Grisham smiled a smile that made Marta nervous. "Here in Alta California, here in the Americas, here in the Spanish Realm?"
"In my house," Marta insisted.
Grisham raised an eyebrow. "Note to self - Marta has volunteered to pay the taxes for her hacienda." Marta made a face. "We're here to see your boss - senorita Alvarado - aka, the Queen Of Swords."
"And what makes you think Maria Theresa is the Queen of Swords?" Marta asked.
"Oh, basic math; not to mention several gnomon clues," Grisham answered. "Every time the Queen shows up, your boss's nowhere to be found." Tilting his head some, "And the fact you're the only one who never leaves the scene.
"All in all, a quite finial set of actions to cloak the truth."
"We only want to talk to her," Vera said to Marta. To Grisham, "Marcus," and he let Marta go.
Taking several steps to separate herself from Grisham, Marta thought. "I do not know. This smells of -"
"Please don't say `evil spirits'," Grisham advised.
~~~~~
The first thing Tessa - with a pounding headache and a bit dizzy - saw when she got home was Vera sitting as though everything was perfectly all right. "Vera!" Tessa exclaimed. "But how?" And then she saw Captain Grisham and Marta there too.
"Whatever else Doctor Helm is," Grisham remarked, "he's still a patriot."
"You're American," Tessa corrected.
Grisham just grinned.
"Marta!" Tessa exclaimed.
Marta shrugged. "They insisted - and were most insistant.
Tessa headed for the drawer with the -
Bolos which Grisham was holding in his hand. "Looking for these, senorita?" he asked innocently. Fingering the rawhide cords and eyeing the rocks they were tied around, "You know, this would break a lot of glass windowpanes over in the Crystal Gardens."
"Where??" Tessa asked.
Grisham breathed an exasperated sigh. "The Crystal Gardens, England."
"You were in England?" asked a now-amused Tessa.
"Born and raised there," Grisham answered. "As well as trained there, in his Majesty's service - just like your dear doc."
"And now you are a mercinary," Marta cursed, "working for the highest bidder."
Grisham just chuckled. "Da Vinci was right - it is possible to be too good at one's job."
Tessa shook her head with frustration. This arguing was getting nothing of substance that she could see. "The Queen told me that you said my father was involved in a project here," Tessa said. "What was it?"
"He never mentioned it to you?" Vera asked. Tessa shook her head. "Not in passing, in letters?" More `no's from dona Alvarado.
"Smart of him," Marcus said, "if short-sighted." He paused, taking a breath. Tessa waited, Marta figeted. "Your father, almost every time I saw him, was going on about the splendor of the past, of the golden times back then."
Tessa nodded. "Papa always did love history."
"Yeah," Marcus said, trying to be polite. "One of those people who'd live in the past if they could," saying `people' like it was bile. "One of the plans we learned of had to do with re-creating `the grand plan' of the Lollards and the Hussites."
Tessa looked on with genuine confusion. "I've heard those names, but who are they?"
"Attempts," Vera explained, "to create a theocracy - a country ruled by the priests, with no kings, emperors, or dons."
"With," Marcus kindly added, "the exception of a grand estate for the founder of the new realm -- your father's."
"You do see," Vera inquired, "that there's no room in Their Majesties' realms for a theocracy."
"'Their'?" Marta asked. "Who sent you? The Portugese? The Dutch? The Sicilians?"
"Not a Napoleonic realm, certainly," Grisham replied. "Through a glass and darkly, we fought that strife, under many guises and many names, but always the two of us."
END