AND THE TRUTH SHALL...
A Maria Theresa Alvarado Mystery
by Maril Swan
maril.swan@sympatico.ca
http://www3.sympatico.ca/maril.swan/quillnsword

RATING: PG 13?

DISCLAIMERS: The characters belong to Fireworks and Paramount and the story and other characters are mine.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thanks, Jo, for your editorial eye on this piece. It's much improved, and yes, Eliza, I was looking out for POV.<g>

~~~~~

"I have permission to see the prisoner." Tessa brushed past the guard and entered the cell corridor. She had visited this place many times before but never on such a mission as this. The prison was evil-smelling, dank and gloomy with a row of cells along one side. Each cell was divided from its neighbour by an adobe wall. She uttered a low cry when she saw the forlorn woman seated on a narrow cot, behind the prison bars. "Marta," she said faintly, moving swiftly to the cell door.

Marta arose and crossed the cell. Her face seemed flushed with chagrin that Tessa should see her like this -- unkempt, hollow-eyed, frightened. Tessa leaned against the bars, her forehead touching Marta's, while she struggled to control her feelings. The younger woman knew her own distress was affecting Marta even as she tried to hide it.

With a shadow of a smile, Marta touched Tessa's cheek. "I'm all right. Don't look so sad, Tessa. You know what they say, 'The truth shall set you free'."

Tessa jerked away with an angry exclamation. "The truth! What truth? Who could ever believe you're a murderer? This is an outrage, not justice!" She turned to the guard who was standing only a few yards away. With an imperious look, she demanded, "Open this door so that I may visit with my servant!"

Uncertainly, the soldier produced his keys and unlocked the cell door, then swung it wide enough for Tessa to enter. "I shouldn't do this, señorita, but since it is you, I'm sure it will be all right."

For an instant, Tessa contemplated knocking the guard down and helping Marta to escape. With a sinking feeling, she knew that would only complicate the situation. Marta would be a fugitive and could be killed on sight. She stepped into the cell carrying her basket and sat down on the hard cot. The guard swung the door shut, and Tessa experienced a moment of panic at being locked in the cell. How must Marta feel being imprisoned here since yesterday? She shuddered and tried to compose herself, for Marta's sake.

"Here are the things you asked for. And I brought you something to eat. I imagine the food they serve here isn't fit for dogs." Tessa untied the linen wrapper and revealed a bowl of something that resembled rice. "I made it myself," she said proudly, handing Marta a fork.

"Thank you, Tessa. Even a dog would turn his nose up at the food I get in here." Marta poked at the contents of the dish and took a mouthful. She swallowed quickly with a look of alarm on her face. "What is it?"

"Your favourite - paella." Seeing Marta's hesitation to take another bite, she added, "It isn't very good, is it? I'll have something sent over from the cantina. You don't have to eat this."

"No. Really. It's fine. I'll eat it later. But I would appreciate some food from the cantina as well."

Tessa's lip trembled as she glanced around the prison cell. "I can't stand to see you in a place like this." Her voice broke and she clenched her jaw, trying keep her anger under control.

Just outside the cell window, Colonel Montoya leaned against the building, eavesdropping on the conversation between the two women. So far, he had heard nothing that would incriminate or exonerate Marta. Perhaps, while they thought they were alone, one of them might let something slip -- something about the identity of the Queen of Swords, for instance. He kept his breathing shallow and quiet, eagerly waiting for that one slip.

"Marta, I'm going to get you out of here," he heard Tessa say, and caught his breath. Then Marta replied vehemently in an unintelligible language.

Montoya listened without understanding a word. He ground his teeth in frustration as the heated dialogue went back and forth in the Gypsy language. He heard his own name a few times, but without the context, it meant nothing. He pushed away from the wall and went to his own office, none the wiser. Except, he thought, the relationship between those women is much closer than they let on. Marta has taught Señorita Alvarado to speak the gitano tongue. Why? How close is that relationship? What would she do to save Marta? He rubbed his hands with glee suddenly as an idea formed. Of course, Montoya mused. This whole situation can be turned to my benefit. The gods are truly smiling on Montoya lately.

Before entering his office, Montoya beckoned to a soldier. "Bring Señorita Alvarado to me after she has finished visiting the prisoner." The soldier hurried off and Montoya closed the office door and sat down in his chair, fairly squirming in anticipation. A feral grin crossed his thin lips as he contemplated his cleverness.

A short while later, a gentle tap on his door signalled her arrival. "Come," he called and arose as Tessa stepped into his office. "Señorita Alvarado," he said, his voice soft with affected concern. "This is a most distressing business. Please come in and sit down."

"I prefer to stand, Colonel. What did you want to see me about?" Tessa's body was rigid, her face pale though her dark eyes flashed with anger when they encountered the Colonel's. Montoya's eyes held hers. She saw a cruel amusement in their pale depths. He smiled at her discomfiture. She felt off-balance, and it annoyed her.

"The prison is no place for a woman. It is bad enough for the men," Montoya said in a sympathetic tone. "I have a proposal to make." He began to pace his office, finally coming to stand near her. "I will release Marta into your custody, if you will put up a monetary guarantee that she will not flee before the trial. A paltry sum of five thousand reales, or the deed to your hacienda."

Her eyes widened in surprise and indignation, though she tried to keep her reaction hidden. They hardened and fixed him with an angry glare, finally settling into a haughty scowl.

"Your offer is most generous, Colonel, but I'm afraid I must refuse. My hacienda cannot be bargained away for one servant, no matter how loyal. I have many others depending on me for their livelihood. Marta must stay where she is until her name is cleared. I am sure a fair trial will show her innocent of this heinous crime."

Tessa held her ground, keeping her chin high and forcing herself to breathe normally. It was exactly what Marta said he would do. During their conversation in the cell, Tessa had wanted to post a guarantee to get Marta released, but Marta had warned her of Montoya's treachery. As Marta had said, "You pledge your hacienda to Montoya, and you sign both our death warrants, Tessa. Once he has that deed legally, he doesn't need you any longer." Marta had proved to be right, as usual. Tessa noted the Colonel's features remained neutral but his eyes lit suddenly as if a fire had kindled within him. She knew he was angry at being thwarted once again in his plan to acquire her hacienda by fair means or foul.

"If there is nothing else, Colonel, I bid you good day." She turned toward the door and was about to leave when Montoya spoke again.

"I must say I'm disappointed in you, Maria Theresa. Your noble father would never have allowed one of his people to rot in jail if he could have done anything to prevent it," Montoya said smoothly.

His words stung like a lash, and she flinched involuntarily. "I suppose I am not like my father, Colonel," she replied evenly. "Good day." She left the office with carefully unhurried steps, wanting nothing more than to have a sword in her hand at that moment.

Outside, in the glare and heat of the sun, she shuddered with cold dread. Leaving Marta in that cell was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. The trial started tomorrow, and she had no proof of Marta's innocence.

****************

Dr. Helm was not in his office when Tessa pushed open the door. Despair crashed around her as she realized he was the most damning of the witnesses. Still, she had to see him. A sound in his back room alerted her to his presence. She called out, hesitantly, then more forcefully, and he finally appeared with an annoyed look on his face. His look softened when he saw her and he crossed the room quickly.

"Señorita Alvarado. Please sit down," he said pulling out a chair for her.

She sank into it gratefully and tried to marshal her thoughts. Why had she come to him? What could he do for Marta? Looking into his concerned eyes, she knew he was almost as distressed as she was about Marta being accused of murder.

"Dr. Helm, is there nothing you can say that will acquit Marta of this crime? Is there no evidence of someone else poisoning Señora Vicente? Surely, there must be something. You tended her for several days before Marta took over her care. Did the señora speak of being afraid or worried about something?"

Helm glanced away and Tessa thought she saw a guilty look cross his features. In a deliberate tone, he said, "The communication between a doctor and patient is as sacred as that between a priest and a penitent. Whatever Señora Vicente said to me is confidential."

Tessa stood abruptly, her face a mask of fury. "Surely your duty is to the living, doctor! Señora Vicente is dead, but your testimony could hang Marta! Unless you tell the whole truth. She said something, did she not? Or you know something and will not speak. Why?"

"I just told you! My oath forbids me to reveal what patients tell me."

"And what about saving lives? You keep your oath, doctor, and let an innocent woman die for it!" Tessa hurtled from his office and ran outside toward her wagon.

Helm stood at his door and watched her climb into her wagon and leave in a cloud of dust. His spirits were at a very low ebb as he contemplated the rights and wrongs of this case. He knew Marta was innocent but had no way to prove it. Someone had poisoned Señora Vicente while she was convalescing at the Alvarado hacienda. The only other suspects were her husband, Donato, or her daughter, Cristina.

***************

Grisham noted Montoya's nod of satisfaction as he surveyed his small courtyard. Everything had been set up as he ordered -- his magisterial seat at the head of the court and off to the left, the chair for the accused. In front of his place was the witness chair. Further down were a table for each the Crown and defence, with a row of seats behind for the witnesses and audience.

The colonel turned to Grisham. "Not exactly the High Court but it will serve our purposes. The trial begins tomorrow. Are you prepared to act as prosecutor?"

Grisham grinned and pushed away from the wall against which he had been lounging. He was excited by the chance to prove himself to the colonel. "I've never acted as a lawyer before, but I'm sure I can carry it off. Pretty open and shut case, isn't it? She has to be guilty. I mean, who else could have done it?"

"Grisham, a crime involves two main elements -- motive and opportunity. Marta had the opportunity but where is the motive? As far as I know, she did not know these people before they came to the Alvarado hacienda. No, this is far from open and shut. But we will get at the truth."

"And then we'll hang her." Grisham laughed aloud at the distressed look that crossed Montoya's face. Now he knows how I felt when Vera was kidnapped, he thought with malice. He sobered immediately when those pale eyes impaled him with a look that signalled danger.

Impatiently, Montoya gestured at the makeshift courtroom. "You will assign six men to guard the courtroom, and make sure they have pistols and rifles. We don't want the Queen of Swords to throw a spoke into the wheels of justice." With that, Montoya turned toward the rear door of his villa. "Join me in my office in an hour. Señorita Alvarado will be there too."

*************

She looks rather haggard as if she has not been sleeping well, Montoya thought as Tessa entered his office and sat down opposite his desk. But her jaw was set with an inexorable purpose and her eyes had a hardness he had never noticed before. There is more to this lady than she lets on. She bears watching closely. He observed her fidgeting nervously with her gloves while they waited for Grisham. Montoya cursed him silently. Late as always, damn him!

The door opened and Grisham sauntered in, gave a sloppy salute and dropped into the other chair next to Tessa. He nodded briefly at her then fixed his attention on Montoya. The colonel grimaced and sighed heavily.

"I have called you both here to go over the procedures of the trial since neither of you has ever acted in this capacity before. In this little pueblo, we have no lawyers and it would take several weeks to bring anyone from Monterrey. So, I must appoint a Crown representative and a defence counsel for this trial if it is to be done expeditiously." Montoya glanced between the two and wondered if the trial would be more farce than tragedy. I do not think I could have found two worse representatives for this trial if I had combed the entire area. But as senior officer, Grisham has to be the prosecutor, and Señorita Alvarado volunteered to act for Marta. He sighed and continued.

"Grisham, as prosecutor, it is your duty to interrogate the witnesses, and maintain the security of the court. Señorita Alvarado, as defence counsel, you also may call and interrogate witnesses. You also have the right to cross-examine the prosecutor's witnesses, and examine any evidence the Crown may have collected." He glanced from one to the other and asked, "Any questions?"

Tessa's face flushed suddenly, and she said hotly, "Yes, Colonel. Why are we doing this? There is absolutely no evidence that Marta had a hand in Señora Vicente's death. For all we know, it may have been natural causes. To me, this is just an outrageous accusation by an aggrieved husband and daughter, looking to blame someone for their loss. And who do they accuse? The person who spent sleepless nights tending the woman through her illness! It's a travesty and should be stopped before more harm is done."

Montoya watched Tessa striving to hold onto the tenuous self-control which threatened to slip away. Her chest heaved with emotion as she clenched her jaw so tightly the muscles stood out starkly against the smoothness of her face. The hands resting on her lap were tightened into fists. Yes, Montoya thought smugly, she seems to be in a highly emotional state, just barely able to control herself. A small twinge of compassion for her was soon lost to the recollection that she stood in the way of his attaining the most desirable hacienda in the area.

He gestured openly with his hands and sighed. "I'm afraid, Maria Theresa, that once a charge has been brought, especially such a serious one as murder, the accused must answer the charge. A trial is required. It is the law." He stood up, signalling the end of the conference.

Tessa arose quickly and ignored Montoya's effort to take her hand to kiss. She turned abruptly and left the office. Montoya compressed his lips as he considered her reactions. So much passion makes a deadly adversary. He smiled to himself, speculating on Grisham and Tessa crossing swords in the courtroom. He pondered with delight, wondering what the morrow would bring. At the very least, the trial should be entertaining.

************

Tessa sat on the hard seat fiddling with some papers on the table while she awaited the start of the proceedings. Marta had already been brought in to sit in the accused's chair. To Tessa's relief, her hands were free at least of the manacles. Tessa had argued earlier against that indignity and Montoya had relented. Tessa caught her eye and Marta returned a brave little smile. Tessa could see she was nervous though she sat serenely looking around the makeshift courtroom. It was the rigid set of her shoulders, and the tightness around her mouth that gave away her state of mind. She looks better today, Tessa thought, trying to swallow a lump in her throat. More composed as if she's glad it's finally going to be decided, one way or the other. Marta was wearing the colourful dress that Tessa had brought for her. She looked alien, exotic, out of place among these people. That was part of the problem.

Beside her, Tessa heard Grisham move to stand up. Turning her attention to the front, she saw Montoya enter with a stately tread. He was dressed in his formal military tunic and looked self-consciously impressive. As she stood, her heart lurched with fear. This was a real trial, and Marta's life was in her hands! She heard the other members of the trial arise with a loud scraping of chairs and shuffling of feet.

Montoya gestured for everyone to sit. "This is an unusual court proceeding as we have no actual legal counsel for either the prosecution or the defence. Nevertheless, this is a legal trial which will be recorded by my clerk. I will preside as magistrate and it will be my sacred duty to pronounce the guilt or innocence of the accused according to the witnesses and evidence presented. This is a duty I do not take lightly as a life hangs in the balance. I remind all the witnesses that you are sworn to tell the truth before God and man. Perjury is also a criminal offence." With that he brought down his gavel and declared, "This court is now is session. Prosecution, you may call your first witness." Off to Montoya's side, a soldier scribbled quickly, recording the procedure.

"Your Honour, I call Señor Donato Vicente as my first witness," Grisham declared a little too loudly.

A man moved from behind Grisham and stepped between the tables toward the front of the court where a witness chair was placed. Tessa remembered the first time she had seen Señor Vicente.

------------TWO WEEKS EARLIER...

"Ah, Senorita Alvarado," the smooth voice of Montoya rang out as Tessa passed near the cantina. She turned slowly, affixing a haughty look on her face as she met his pale gaze. She noted there were others seated at his table. One man rose with the Colonel in a courteous gesture. She kept her features under control as her eyes encountered Dr. Helm's. Even though her heart skipped a few beats, he scarcely looked at her as he also stood up. The other man with the Colonel was tall and elegantly dressed in the latest Spanish style - a style copied from the French but made distinctly Spanish. He had a narrow moustache over a pair of very thin lips which were at that moment barely smiling. If her look was haughty, his was positively arrogant! His dark eyes were coolly appraising her and obviously, he liked what he saw.

Tessa turned her gaze to the young woman at their table, seated very close to Dr. Helm. She was wearing a lovely satin gown of a light blue that matched her eyes. Her blonde hair was dressed in a conservative bun which made her seem older. There was a bright flush on her cheeks as she stared at the doctor. Tessa tried not to smile at her obvious infatuation with the handsome Englishman. At least she has good taste for one so young. Tessa guessed her to be about fourteen years old. She met Tessa's glance with a disdainful look that made Tessa uncertain about the outfit she had decided to wear that day. It was not elegant like the strangers' clothing, but serviceable and comfortable - just a short sleeved blouse and a colourful skirt that Marta had made. Tessa felt somewhat nettled to be judged by this young woman and found wanting.

"Please join us, Señorita Alvarado." Montoya bowed slightly and gestured at the table invitingly.

Not having any real choice, Tessa turned to Marta, who had just joined her with the market basket. "I will be here for a while, Marta. Do you mind getting the supplies on your own?" Her courtesy to a servant raised the eyebrows of all those at the table, except Dr. Helm's. He merely smiled.

"Si, señorita," Marta said demurely and strode away to the market square.

Tessa moved to the table, and Dr. Helm, being nearest, pulled out a chair for her to sit. She found herself uncomfortably close to him as he resumed his seat. His nearness and the warmth from his body caused a rush of feeling through her and she wished she could have moved further away with seeming too obvious. She knew her face was becoming flushed and covered it with, "My, isn't it warm today?"

"No warmer than usual, Señorita Alvarado. Perhaps you just feel the heat more than others," Dr. Helm returned with a sardonic smile. "More sensitive to it, I mean," he added with a smirk.

Montoya glanced curiously between the two, then said, "May I present Señor Vicente and his daughter, Cristina?" Señor Vicente bowed low over Tessa's hand and placed a lingering kiss on it.

Montoya continued, "Señor Vicente had to shorten his trip to Monterrey. His wife caught a sudden illness, perhaps while they were crossing Panama. Dr. Helm will be attending her at the hotel until she is better. Perhaps, Señorita Alvarado, you could take Cristina under your wing for a while. She would, I think, be glad of some female companionship, in the absence of her mother. So far, the young lady has had to put up with only our dull male talk. I'm sure she would welcome the more genteel conversation of ladies."

Tessa caught the sulky look on Cristina's face. She knows she's been palmed off on me, and doesn't like it. Neither do I, but what can I do without seeming rude.

"Of course, if Cristina wants to take a walk through the pueblo, I would be glad to show her around. Would you care to accompany me for a little exercise, Cristina?" Tessa turned her remarks to the young woman and received a glare of hostility. What's this about, Tessa wondered. What have I done to make her angry?

As Tessa arose, Dr. Helm stood up quickly and courteously pulled out her chair, scarcely allowing her room to pass without rubbing against him. "Thank you, Doctor. You are most considerate." She flashed him her haughtiest look which only made him grin. What's he doing... flirting with me, Tessa wondered. He's supposed to be in love with the Queen. Is he thinking of being unfaithful to her already? Mentally she shook herself. This dual identity is getting too complicated. I'm becoming jealous of myself. She nearly laughed aloud at the thought.

"De nada. Have a nice walk," Helm said.

She brushed closely by him, enough so he would know it was intentional. If he wants to flirt, he hasn't seen anything yet, she promised herself, as Cristina joined her on the street. The two woman started down toward the market square when suddenly Cristina snapped, "Did you have to be so obvious?"

Tessa's mouth opened but before she could protest, Cristina added, "I know you didn't want my company, but we're stuck with each other, so let's make the best of it." With that, she marched ahead as if to get the walk over with quickly. Tessa caught up and tried to take her arm, but the young girl shrugged her off.

Well, this is going to be fun, Tessa thought dismally. What had started out as a pleasant day was deteriorating rapidly. She strolled silently beside the girl, searching for some topic of conversation that might make her more amenable to this enforced companionship.

At one of the stalls, Cristina stopped and began to examine the leather goods hanging there. "I'm surprised, Señorita Alvarado, that you have a Gypsy woman working for you. They can't be trusted, you know. They're all thieves and vagabonds. We have tribes of them camped now around Barcelona since the war. They come into the city at night to pick up the garbage. The traperos, they're called. They always raised such a racket with their filthy carts, it used to wake me up at night. Papa says that's all Gypsies are good for, picking up garbage."

Tessa gasped as Marta walked out from behind the stall, her dark eyes fiery with outrage. Marta cast an aggrieved glance at Cristina as she marched away from the market toward their wagon. Tessa turned on the girl who was regarding Marta's retreat with a smug smile. "You knew she was there! You wanted her to hear that!" It was all Tessa could do to restrain herself from smacking the ugly smile off Cristina's face. Unable to contain her own rage, Tessa strode away, leaving the girl alone in the market.

Cristina shrugged and wandered back to the cantina. She was deeply disappointed to see that Dr. Helm was no longer with her father and Colonel Montoya.

By the time Tessa reached the wagon, Marta had already placed the supplies in the back and was standing facing in the opposite direction to the market. Tessa could see by the rigid set of her shoulders, that Marta was deeply offended and hurt. "Marta," she said gently touching her arm. "I'm sorry about what she said. If I had known you were there, I...."

"You could do nothing, Tessa. The old poison the minds of the young and the old hatreds go on." Marta climbed onto the wagon and added, "Let's go home. I've had enough of this town for one day."

"Well, Marta, at least in this new world, there is less prejudice against your people."

"Is that what you think? You and I live in different worlds. You don't see the looks or hear the things that are said to me by other doñas or their servants." Seeing Tessa's look of distress, Marta relented and squeezed the younger woman's hand. "But you set a good example, Tessa. Maybe others will learn from you." Marta smiled ruefully and picked up the reins, preparing to leave the pueblo.

~~~~~

As Señor Vicente now stood at the front of the courtroom, Tessa felt a pang of compassion for him. His shoulders slumped, his eyes seemed red from loss of sleep, and his mien seemed that of someone carrying an enormous burden. He took the bible into his hands and swore his oath of truth, then dropped wearily into the witness chair. Vicente sent a malevolent glance toward Marta. She flinched as if struck but maintained eye contact. He looked away, then Grisham began to speak.

"Señor Vicente. Please give us the details of the days leading up to your wife's unfortunate death. Start with when you first discovered she was ill." Grisham smiled at Montoya, and received an approving nod. The colonel had probably coached him for hours on the questions he should ask, Tessa decided.

"We were on the ship after leaving Panama. Many were ill but recovering. My poor Juanita was getting worse. The ship's doctor suggested we land at Santa Elena where he knew there was a doctor. So we did. I planned to go on to Monterrey by coach when my wife was well enough." His voice broke suddenly, and he paused, taking several deep breaths. He cleared his throat, and continued, "Dr. Helm diagnosed the illness as a type of dysentery, and he began to treat her. She was getting better. Then, the doctor suggested she might recover more quickly away from the noise and commotion of the town. He thought Señorita Alvarado might allow us to stay with them for a week or two." Vicente dropped his face into his hands and groaned aloud. "God forgive me. If only I had known they were harbouring a witch there, I would never have agreed and my Juanita would still be with me."

Tessa stood suddenly, and said vehemently, "I object to that slander. Marta is not a witch."

Montoya waved her to her seat and said to Vicente, "I realize this is a terrible experience for you, señor, but please, confine your statements to the facts. This is a murder trial not a witch hunt."

Isn't it, Tessa thought angrily. She noted the flush on Marta's cheeks and the way she was staring fixedly into space, as if trying to distance herself from this ordeal. I don't blame her for wishing she was elsewhere. So do I. I wish the Queen could ride in and save the day. But, as Marta has often pointed out, 'This is one problem you cannot solve with a sword'. Somehow, I'll have to find the real murderer before the trial ends. Tessa stared anxiously at her hands then brought her attention back to the witness who had resumed speaking.

"We moved out to the Alvarado hacienda and were shown great hospitality. The Gypsy woman gave up her own room for my wife and shared a room with Señorita Alvarado. Dr. Helm said the Gypsy woman was a healer and could take good care of my wife. Juanita began to get worse almost from the day we arrived. Along with the medications the doctor prescribed, she also used some of her own potions. Who knows what was in them? Some Gypsy poison or maybe a curse!"

Montoya interrupted just as Tessa began to rise, a fierce look on her face. Firmly, he said, "Señor Vicente, you have been warned to keep to the facts! If you cannot, I will have the clerk take your statement which will be read before the court. No more insults or insinuations, please. They have no place in this courtroom." Montoya gave Tessa a quick smile of sympathy, then added, "Proceed with your testimony, señor."

Almost inaudibly, he began to speak again. "I feared for her life but she was too weak to be moved. I told Señorita Alvarado that her servant was not to tend my wife any longer, or even go near her. On that fatal night, I was in my wife's room when I saw the Gypsy woman sneaking in with something in her hand. I was enraged and would have struck her but she escaped to her own room. The next morning, my wife was dead." Vicente stared down at the floor and several minutes went by as the background noise of the courtyard intruded into the sudden silence -- the splashing of the fountain, a chair scraping, someone coughing or whispering.

Grisham's voice broke into the stillness like a shock. "Why would Marta want to kill your wife, Señor Vicente? They hardly knew each other."

Vicente's eyes went to his daughter, seated behind Grisham and next to Dr. Helm. "I would prefer my daughter does not hear this. Please take her back to our hotel."

Montoya motioned to a soldier and reluctantly, the young girl arose to leave. She glared at Marta and shouted, "I hope they hang you for this! I want to see you dead like my Mama!" With that, she burst into tears and ran from the courtyard.

Marta's face paled and she swayed. Tessa rushed to her side. "Some water, please!" She held the other woman up as she seemed about to fall from her chair. "Marta, are you all right? The girl was distraught. She didn't know what she was saying." A glass of water was handed to her and she gave Marta a few sips.

A babel of voices arose behind them as the audience spoke excitedly among themselves until Montoya hammered with his gavel to call for order. "Take your seat, Señorita Alvarado. The witness will now answer the last question."

Vicente continued to look at the floor. He said, "Almost from the moment, we arrived at the hacienda, I noticed the Gypsy woman watching me. After a few days, she offered herself to me for money."

"That is a lie!" Marta's voice rang out across the courtyard as she stood glaring at the witness. "You have sworn to tell the truth. So tell it!" The two guards on either side of her pushed her back into her seat.

Montoya glanced from Marta to Tessa. The señorita's eyes were wide in astonishment. It was obvious to the colonel that things went on in her household of which she was not aware. He was delighted. This trial was proving more titillating than he could have imagined. His attention was drawn back by Grisham.

"So you're saying that because you rejected her, Marta killed your wife in revenge?" Grisham's voice held an edge of incredulity and Montoya frowned at him.

Vicente sent a scathing glance at Marta. "Who knows what goes on in their minds. They're half savages, all of them."

"Señor Vicente!" Montoya shouted. More quietly, he said, "Do you have anything more to add to your statement, señor?" Vicente shook his head.

"Anymore questions for this witness, Captain Grisham?"

"No sir." Grisham resumed his seat with an arrogant smile at Tessa. "Your witness, counsellor."

Tessa arose and moved away from the table. "Señor Vicente, did your wife want to leave Spain?"

Vicente gave her an impatient look. "What does that have to with anything?"

Montoya narrowed his eyes at Tessa, as if wondering where she was going with this query. "Answer the question."

"No. She loved Barcelona and wanted to stay near her family." Vicente sat erect and met her gaze without flinching.

"Yet you made her come with you to Alta California, knowing it would make her unhappy."

"A wife's place is with her husband. She knew that. I thought after a while in Monterrey, she would make new friends, have new diversions to take her mind off missing Barcelona. I was sure she would be happy here once she got used to it."

"So, your wife was in a very depressed state of mind over leaving Spain. And your daughter, Cristina. Did she want to come to California?" Tessa exchanged a glance with Marta and saw the light of hope kindling there. I only pray it doesn't prove to be a false hope.

"Yes. She was eager to come. She had read about the exploits of that vigilante woman, the Queen of Swords, and wanted to come here to Santa Elena. She hoped to meet the bandita, of all things. Cristina is a young, romantic girl, a dreamer. She even suggested she would like to be like this Queen of Swords." He snorted in disgust. "Imagine. She even wanted me to let her take fencing lessons. As if any responsible father would let his daughter do such a thing!"

Tessa forced her features to remain blank as she recalled that eventful first meeting with Cristina the night before she met Don Vicente.

----------------

His light is still on, the black-clad woman mused, as she watched Dr. Helm's office from her rooftop perch which was across the street from his office. Maybe I'll wait awhile before I surprise him with a visit. Her heart seemed to be beating abnormally fast as she contemplated that small square of light which still spilled from his window onto the dusty pueblo street.

Had she not been so preoccupied, Tessa would have heard the stealthy figure stealing up behind her on the roof. When a hand touched her arm, she turned instinctively, grabbing the other's arm and throwing her attacker off. She landed on top and clamped her gloved hand over the other's mouth, while pulling out her dagger to place at the throat. Only then did she realize her 'attacker' was a young and very frightened girl. The girl's wide eyes stared in terror and she whimpered.

"What are you doing up here?" Tessa whispered harshly near the girl's ear. "If I move my hand from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?" The girl nodded, never taking her eyes off Tessa. Carefully, Tessa removed her hand. "Now, tell me what you think you are doing on this roof."

"Señorita Reina," the girl whispered excitedly. "I have heard so much about you, and I admire you so much for your exploits. I want to be just like you." Breathlessly, she added, "I came to help you. What are we doing tonight - stealing gold, freeing prisoners?"

"We are not doing anything. You are going back to wherever you came from." Tessa paused thoughtfully. "How did you know I was here?"

"My hotel window is right across from this roof. I saw you and sneaked out of my room to come to you." The girl knelt and peered across the street to where Tessa was looking. "What can you see from here? Only the hotel and the doctor's office. Why would you be watching those places?" She turned back to Tessa with a scornful expression on her young face. "It's the doctor's office you were watching, isn't it? You are the doctor's lover!"

The girl stood up and withdrew a small sword from a scabbard at her side. In the pale moonlight, she made a comical sight - a slim and pretty blonde girl dressed in a culotte skirt and light coloured blouse, and striking a threatening pose that could not be less threatening. Tessa tried not to laugh. The girl hissed, "I'll fight you for him. I love him. He is mine." She advanced with her sword and Tessa dodged the first clumsy thrust. This scene was no longer amusing.

"Are you crazy!" Tessa whispered urgently. "The first sound of a swordfight will bring the soldiers out with their guns. They're known to shoot first and ask questions later." But the girl ignored her and tried a few more thrusts, nearly cutting Tessa with one slash near her shoulder. Tessa moved in quickly and disarmed her with a few manoeuvres that left the girl stunned and weaponless.

Tessa held the girl in a tight grip around the neck, and said close to her ear, "Now, let's get a few things straight. First, I don't need a partner. And you could get killed climbing around on the rooftops in this town. Second, I am not the doctor's lover. If you want him, take him. He's all yours." With that, Tessa released her. "Come on. I'll help you get back to your room before anyone discovers you're missing."

--------------

An amused twinkle shone in Marta's eyes as Tessa recalled that scene. Marta must be remembering it too, as I told her all about it. Well, she admitted to herself, not quite all. I didn't mention why I was on the roof across from the doctor's office. Glancing in Dr. Helm's direction, she felt a warmth coming into her cheeks. His wry grin made her face burn more and she returned to the witness.

"Señor Vicente. You say you believe Marta killed your wife because you rebuffed her amorous advances. And that she wanted to be paid also. Does this not stretch credulity a little too far? In a matter of hours, she conceived such a passion for you, she would kill your wife for vengeance? It sounds more like a conceit to me." A few restrained snickers from behind made Tessa smile sardonically. To the audience this was just a play, a diverting entertainment. To her it was life and death.

"Señorita Alvarado," Montoya said firmly. "You will confine yourself to questioning the witness not making conjectures as to his character."

Tessa flushed with chagrin and began again, "May I remind you, you are under oath, Señor Vicente. Would you relate the circumstances of that alleged proposal made to you by Marta?" She sent an apologetic look to Marta who seemed to be rigid with indignation.

"I had been in my wife's room and was distressed by her condition. I went into the parlour and poured myself a liberal glass of cognac to steady my nerves. I noticed Marta had also entered the room and seemed to be hanging about as if she wanted to say something. When I asked what she wanted, she said 'You. I want you.' That's when she offered herself for money. She said a virile man like myself had needs and my wife could not fulfill them. For a price, she would ..."

"Liar!"

Tessa turned as the two guards restrained Marta who was struggling in their grip. Her face was florid with rage. They forced back into the chair and held her firmly.

Montoya gave Tessa a scornful look. "If your client causes any more disturbance, I will eject her from the courtroom, and when she is recalled, she will be in manacles! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Colonel. There has been a lot of tension here today. Perhaps this would be a good time to close the proceedings for the day. I would like to confer with my client."

"If Captain Grisham agrees, we will adjourn until tomorrow at ten o'clock." Montoya rose and the whole assembly also got noisily to their feet. He went through into the main building, leaving Grisham to clear the courtroom and take charge of the prisoner.

****************

Marta sat staring unseeingly at the scarred adobe walls of her cell. Outside she could hear the noises from the street -- the rattle of carts, the calls of children, the neighing of horses. The small square of light that entered through the barred window seemed to contain all the warmth of the hot sun as she watched it moving steadily across the wall. She reached out to feel its heat on her hand, casting a harsh shadow on the far wall. Its warmth was a small comfort to one who had lived all her youth in the open air with no walls but the trees and the mountains.

She shuddered with dread. The danger was real and imminent. She might die for a crime she did not commit. And the things that were said against her. She tried to suppress the bitter rage that boiled within. I must not let it touch me, she thought. It is not me they are accusing but a race they despise. If I can hold onto that, I may get through this.

She shook her head sadly as she relived the last week at the hacienda. The guests had created a great disturbance in the household routine. But Tessa had agreed because Dr. Helm had asked, and she would refuse him nothing. If only she had said no, Marta thought, then relented. It was a reasonable request and I also consented to it. Her mind drifted over the events leading up to the trial.

-------------------

The drapes were closed against the heat of the day, and the dimness in the room seemed to make the woman in the bed more comfortable. Marta rinsed a cloth and wiped the woman's feverish face. Señora Vincente was very weak from her illness and did not seem to be improving, even after nearly a week at the hacienda. Marta pursed her lips as she examined her patient. She picked up one of her hands to wash it, and pushed back the sleeve of the nightgown. Across the inside of the señora's wrist was a thin white line, like a scar. As Marta touched it, a flash of red filled her eyes and an indescribable terror gripped her mind. With a gasp, she dropped the woman's hand.

With trembling hands, Marta prepared the dosage of medicine to give her in the glass of water. Dr. Helm had left her medications to administer but they had not made any difference to the señora's condition. Marta was puzzled. She wished her mother were here to advise her. Mama would know what to do, she thought sadly. I wish I had learned more from her.

The door opened suddenly, a loud sound in the muffled quiet of the room. Señora Vicente stirred and tried to open her eyes. Even that small effort seemed too great. Her eyelids fluttered and closed.

Cristina rushed to her mother in alarm. "She's not...." A look of wild desperation crossed the young girl's face as she gazed at the wan and fading woman that was her mother. She turned to Marta with a savage glare. "You're killing her! Why did the doctor send us here? You're making her die, with your Gypsy magic and spells!"

Marta moved toward the girl to embrace her and soothe her pain, but Cristina pushed her violently away. "Don't touch me! Get out!" Her face wet with tears, the girl took her mother's limp hand and pressed it to her cheek.

With a last doleful look at the mother and daughter, Marta quietly left the room. I must find something to help her. There must be something I can do. She went to Tessa's room which she had been forced to share, having given up her own room to the sick woman. She sat on the bed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and slowly. Gradually, the trauma of her confrontation with Cristina wore off. A sense of peace washed through her and she waited. Time passed but there was no time where she was. Suddenly, she heard her mother's voice and it whispered gentle counsel in her mind. Marta experienced a sensation as if she was filled with light, weightless and formless as she absorbed everything her mother said. A bittersweet warmth suffused her and she tried to hang onto the feeling but suddenly she was back in the bright hot room. She took several deep breaths to overcome the rush of emotions that assailed her in reaction to her vision. I don't have time for tears, she admonished herself. I have to see the señora. I just hope I am not too late.

A little unsteadily, Marta got up and moved to the door. How long was I gone, she wondered. As she was about to open the door, Tessa stepped in.

Tessa looked down, unable to meet the other woman's eyes. "Marta, I don't know how to say this. Señor Vicente has forbidden you to tend his wife. Cristina was nearly hysterical with grief and he let her have her way. I'm sorry. I know you have been going to her room day and night, losing sleep and doing everything you can. Maybe it's for the best. If she dies, you will not be blamed." She reached out and Marta allowed herself to be held closely, finding comfort for the suffering she felt at the señora's losing battle with her illness. And now this.

Marta laughed harshly. "I finally have the answer, and I'm not to be permitted to use it? This is too funny." She pushed Tessa away gently. "We can't let them stop me from helping Señora Vicente. I know what to do now, and I must be allowed."

"Don't do anything, Marta," Tessa said in alarm. "Let Dr. Helm tend her from now on. Señor Vicente sent for him a short time ago."

"There is something about Señora Vicente that I must tell you. Tessa," Marta said urgently. "I suspected it and now I am sure."

----------

Marta's reverie was interrupted as the food from the cantina arrived. A young man entered her cell and set a tray on the small table. He backed away as if afraid he would be attacked.

Marta smiled at the cowering young man. "Thank you, Jaime. The meal smells delicious. Thank your father for me." Her smile faded as the boy practically ran from cell. She lifted the covers from the dishes and began to eat though she had no appetite.

~~~~~

I must be crazy, taking a risk like this, Tessa thought as she slid into the doctor's bedroom through his back window. But she had to see him. He was Marta's only hope. She had to convince him somehow, to testify in her defence. The room was barely light enough to see the sleeping form on the bed. He snored lightly and stirred at the stealthy sounds she made moving across the floor. As she touched his shoulder, he turned and grabbed her arm in crushing grip. She yelped with pain and she could see his grinning teeth in the half-light of the room.

"I thought it was you," he said. "Who else would be sneaking around in the middle of the night and interrupting my sleep." He held her fast and sat up. "Is this a social visit or are you wounded somewhere?"

"I had to see you," Tessa replied softly. "I needed to..."

He pulled her suddenly into a tight embrace and kissed her with fierce hunger. She struggled for a heartbeat then put her arms around him, letting the loose the passion that she had pent up for so long. She felt herself falling onto him as he lay back on the bed. Some part of her mind tried to remember why she was here but the insistence of his mouth and tongue drove all thoughts away but one. Get closer.

He rolled over taking her with him and they lay side by side. Tessa's heart was racing as she gazed into his strong features, then she moved forward to kiss him again. He moved from her lips to her ear, sending a cascade of thrills through her body. His mouth slid along her neck to the tender pulsing spot at the base and he paused, taking his time to nuzzle and nip, inflaming her so she could hardly think, only feel the heavenly sensations that coursed through her.

She pulled his head to hers and found his lips again, pressing herself tightly against him. His passion aroused her to a fever pitch. She felt his hand cup her breast. He began to fumble with the buttons on her blouse, and she heard him utter, "Confounded things." Suddenly, she remembered why she was there. It hit her like a pail of cold water. Marta! She shoved him away quickly and stood up, straightening her clothes. She could almost see the confused expression on his face in the wan light of the room.

"Did I do something wrong?" he whispered as he reached for her. Tessa moved further away.

"No. I did. I'd better go." Her voice sounded strange to her ears, breathless and deep.

"Wait! Why did you come here? I have to know."

Tessa turned back from the window. "I need you to testify for Marta. Tell everything you know. It's her only chance."

"Break my oath, you mean?" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, keeping the sheet covering him.

"If you don't do something, I will have to. People may get hurt. But Marta will not hang for a crime she did not commit. That I swear to you. I will do whatever it takes to save her."

"Why does she mean so much to you?"

"She's innocent." With that, Tessa slipped through the window and disappeared into the night.

***************

"Dr. Robert Helm." Helm handed the bible back and sat down in the witness chair. He looked gaunt, and red-eyed from lack of sleep as he scanned the informal courtroom. The chairs were filled with dons and their wives come to enjoy the spectacle of a real trial. He pulled himself erect as he waited for Grisham to begin the questioning. He felt Marta's eyes upon him and kept his face averted. He couldn't meet her eyes as his testimony might seal her fate.

Grisham finally finished riffling through the papers on his desk and asked, "Dr. Helm. As the physician in charge of Señora Vicente, please tell us all you can about her case. Start from the day you first saw her."

Helm cleared his throat and shifted uneasily. "I was called to the hotel to examine someone who had been on the ship and was very sick. I diagnosed her as having a form of dysentery which she could have contracted during the trek across Panama. I made up a drug to treat it and she appeared to be improving. Since she seemed to be getting better, I thought a move into the country might speed her recovery. I asked Señorita Alvarado if she would have the Vicentes as her guests for a while and she consented."

Grisham held his hand up as the doctor was about to continue. "Why did you choose the Alvarado hacienda for the señora's convalescence? There are closer ones that might have been more convenient for you."

"Because of Marta. I knew her skills as a healer and trusted that Señora Vicente would be well care for. I still believe that."

"Yet, only a few days after you left the woman in Marta's care, she began to decline and eventually died. Have you wonder about that?" Grisham turned to the audience like an actor playing to the gallery, and grinned.

"Yes. But it isn't unusual for people with dysentery to suffer a relapse. I was sure that, under Marta's care, she would make a full recovery."

"What was in the medicine that you prescribed, Dr. Helm? Was there something that could kill in large doses?"

A small muscle worked in Helm's jaw as he took several deep breaths before answering. "There was a trace of arsenic, a small amount which given in measured doses is therapeutic."

"But in a large dose, arsenic can kill. What about in larger doses over a period of time, Doctor? Would that eventually kill someone?"

"Yes, but..."

"Don't you think that would account for the señora's decline, Doctor? Someone giving her larger doses of your medicine." Grisham seemed to enjoy the doctor's discomfiture at being cut off before he could finish. He continued, "Tell us about the day before the señora's death. What happened?"

"I was called to the Alvarado hacienda and found the place in turmoil. It seemed the daughter had been having hysterics over her mother's worsening condition and made an allegation that Marta was killing her with witchcraft or some such thing. Señor Vicente had violently argued with Señorita Alvarado over Marta continuing to care for his wife. When I arrived, he had forbidden Marta to go near her again, and turned his wife's care over to me. Señora Vicente was certainly in a bad state. She was weak and semi-conscious. I don't think she knew what was going on around her. Since I couldn't stay at the hacienda myself, I explained to the husband how to prepare the dosage and administer it. I showed him how to do it, and also warned about overdosing. I told him about the arsenic in the drug. I left shortly after."

"Now, let's talk about the fatal night and the next day. What do you know about that?"

"One of the Alvarado's workers came to get me very early in the morning. I was told to bring soldiers as there was a suspicion of a crime being committed. I woke Captain Grisham and he gathered some soldiers and we all went out to the hacienda." Helm paused to collect himself. He gave an apologetic glance toward Marta, and continued, "The señora had died during the night. I'm not sure of the time of death as this is a warm country and rigor mortis takes longer to set in. But she had been dead for at least six hours by my reckoning."

"And the medicine?" Grisham said with a flourish like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

"The bottle was empty."

"So we can assume that sometime during the night, someone gave the sick woman enough medicine to kill her."

Helm deliberated for several seconds before answering. "As I wasn't there, I couldn't make such a conjecture. I only know the medicine was gone. It could have been poured out the window for all I know."

"Did you do an examination of the body after it was returned to Santa Elena?"

"Yes. I didn't find anything that would lead me to conclude foul play contributed to her death. She was in a very weakened condition and her body may just have given out. It happens."

"That's all, Doctor. Your witness, señorita." Grisham flopped into his chair with an air of self-satisfaction.

Tessa stood up and bit her lip, hesitating to open the cross-examination. A flush painted her cheeks as she regarded the doctor sitting rigidly in the witness chair. With a quick glance at Marta, she said, "Doctor Helm, was there anything else wrong with Señora Vicente besides the dysentery fever?"

Helm moved convulsively in his chair and the muscle in his jaw jumped spasmodically. "I'm afraid I can't answer that question, señorita. It's patient privilege."

"But you could tell us about the dysentery? What is the difference?"

"Her illness was common knowledge; she didn't confide that to me."

"I see. Like a priest in the confessional, you are bound by an oath of silence. I do not wish to force you to break that oath, Doctor, even though a life is at stake here. So I will supply the answer to that question. Señora Vicente was suffering from an advanced case of syphilis. The arsenic in your drug was for the other disease, not for dysentery." Tessa stared directly into his eyes and saw corroboration there; she felt a sudden lift of hope. But she couldn't get him to admit he was treating syphilis. At least, I have introduced this evidence. Maybe now the shadow of doubt is cast in another direction.

"Now as to the empty medicine bottle. Is it not possible that someone else who had access to the señora's room could have forced her to swallow it? Someone such as her husband who you say knew about the arsenic in the medicine?"

A sudden bellow from behind caused Tessa to turn as Señor Vicente leapt to his feet. "This is an outrage! Are you accusing me of killing my own wife?" His face was florid and his eyes bulged in rage, and for a moment, Tessa feared he would attack her.

Montoya rapped his gavel several times to call for order, then shouted, "Señor Vicente! Calm yourself! We are only probing for the truth in this court. Sit down. Everyone. Let us have order here."

"I couldn't answer for that either, señorita. The empty bottle and her death may not even be connected."

"One other question, Dr. Helm. In your opinion, from what you know of the accused, do you think her capable of such a crime as murdering her patient?"

A silence fell suddenly in the courtroom as Helm considered his answer. Finally he said, "Marta is a very knowledgeable healer, very capable of attending to most illnesses and injuries. If she was a man, she could be a doctor. So, in my opinion, she holds to the same principles that I do when it comes to healing. 'Do no harm'. I very much doubt Marta would do what she is accused of."

"Thank you, Doctor. No more questions." Tessa breathed a great sigh of relief as Helm made his way back to his chair. Though he didn't look at her, she had the feeling he was grateful for the skilful way she had introduced that key evidence without his breaking his oath. Marta had told her about the señora's disease the day that Vicente had forbidden her to care for his wife. Tessa returned to her own chair, risking a glance at Helm, and saw something new in his eyes -- respect. It was all she could do not to grin with joy. With a lighter heart, she resumed her seat and watched as Grisham got up once more to take the floor.

"The Crown calls Marta as the next witness." Grisham strutted self-importantly back and forth as Marta arose to take the witness chair. She gave her oath and sat down. He turned suddenly and leaned close to her, evidently enjoying the role he was playing to the hilt. "You heard Dr. Helm testify that the medicines he sent for Señora Vicente were working and she was getting better. How do you explain her decline as soon as she was in your care?"

"I cannot explain it. Except that sometimes it is the mind that is diseased, troubled, not so much the body. She was very unhappy, very depressed."

"What else did you give the deceased besides what the doctor prescribed?"

"Only tonics to build up the blood. Made of herbs. Nothing that could kill anyone, only make them more healthy. I showed them to the doctor and he agreed that I could give them to the señora." Marta sat erect, rigid, her dark eyes boldly meeting the hostility directed at her from some members of the audience. She kept her eyes averted from Don Vicente whose stare seemed to burn her with his hatred.

"According to her husband, you entered Señora Vicente's room the night she died. He said you had something in your hand. This was after you were expressly forbidden to go near her. Tell us about that night."

"I had a premonition of danger and couldn't sleep. I got up to see if the señora was all right. I was bringing her some of the tonic I told you about. When I entered the room, I could hear Señor Vicente whispering to her 'I won't let you leave me.' He held a glass of something to her lips and was forcing her to drink it. He heard me, and turned on me in a wild rage. I barely escaped from the room. The next morning, Tessa and I awoke to horrible screams coming from the direction of the señora's room. Cristina had found her mother dead." Marta swallowed a few times to compose herself. "It was terrible to hear the poor child. When I entered the room with Tessa, the girl flew at me and shouted 'You killed her!', over and over. Then her father said he would see that I paid for my crime. The doctor and the soldiers came and I was taken back to Santa Elena in the same carriage as the señora's body."

"Señor Vicente says you tried to seduce him. What is your side of this story?" Grisham leered at Marta, obviously enjoying her embarrassment.

Her face flushed and she tightened her hands into fists. Taking several deep breaths, Marta said quietly, "At first, I thought Señor Vicente was directing his amorous attentions to Señorita Alvarado." Marta glanced at Tessa who was almost imperceptibly shaking her head, seemingly in warning. "I was disgusted that he should misuse her hospitality and make advances to my mistress. Then, he turned his unwanted attentions to me. I tried to stay out of his way, but one afternoon..." Marta looked up helplessly at Tessa then at Montoya. "Must I go on with this?" Montoya nodded and she continued, "One afternoon, he found me alone in the parlour. He offered me money for ... "

Suddenly, Vicente leapt up from his chair and rushed to the front with a dagger in his hand. Tessa tried to grab his arm as he passed, but he shoved her hard and she fell against the table, hitting her head. Marta was on her feet in an instant as he attacked with the knife. Before the soldiers could get hold of him, Marta kicked him in the stomach then with both hands, chopped down hard on the back of his neck. She grasped the dagger as he fell and threw it a distance away.

Without looking at the fallen man, she hurried to Tessa who lay unconscious on the floor. Dr. Helm was already tending her. Marta lifted Tessa's head and felt warm moisture in her hair. Her face paled as she pulled her hand away and saw the blood. "Madre de dios! Take her to your office, doctor."

Helm lifted the inert woman and moved down the courtyard toward the street entrance. Marta began to follow, but Grisham restrained her, saying, "You're a prisoner, lady. You can't just go traipsing off like that."

Marta tried to pull herself out of his grasp. "I must see that she's all right!"

Montoya nodded to Grisham. "Send two soldiers with her and tell them to stay close. Have her back here as soon as the señorita regains consciousness." As Marta left in the company of the soldiers, Montoya turned his attention to Vicente who was sitting up groggily rubbing the back of his neck.

"You are under arrest, Señor Vicente."

He struggled to his feet, and blustered, "How dare you arrest me? For what?"

"How about the attempted murder of the defendant, or perhaps assaulting Señorita Alvarado? Both are serious charges, Señor Vicente. And in front of a dozen witnesses. Tsk, tsk. So indiscrete of you. Not like the murder of your wife which was much more subtle."

"I did not kill my wife! The Gypsy witch killed her. She's the one on trial, not me."

"We can easily remedy that. Grisham, take this man to the cells and lock him up. Court is adjourned for today." Montoya hammered his gavel then arose and strode into his villa, a smile stretching across his face as he considered this new turn of events. What profit can be gleaned from this, he wondered, as he made his way to his office.

*****************

The world tilted and spun crazily as she opened her eyes. A soft voice near her ear made her think she was dreaming. His warm breath fanned her cheek as his hand caressed her brow. "So," he said gently, " you're back with the living. You've had a nasty crack on the skull, señorita. Lie still for a while." His other hand restrained her shoulder as she tried to sit up. She closed her eyes and drifted back to oblivion.

When she opened her eyes again, Marta's face swam into her view. Tessa whispered, "Is the trial over? Did we win?"

Marta took her hand and pressed it fondly. "The trial isn't over yet. Montoya is allowing me to stay with you until I am sure you will be all right. It was very kind of him." This last was said so
begrudgingly, it made Tessa smile.

Her head began to clear and Tessa remembered Vicente attacking Marta with a knife. She sat up suddenly, holding onto Helm to steady herself. "He struck at you with a dagger, Marta. Were you hurt?"

Helm laughed. "It was Vicente who got the worst of it. I haven't seen moves like that since I was in the army. Marta took him down so fast, he didn't know what hit him." The doctor continued to chuckle as he got up and left the women alone.

Two soldiers were standing guard outside his door as he opened it to go out for some fresh air. "Lovely evening, isn't it? What a sunset!" he exclaimed as the last rays of the sun reddened the clouds on the horizon.

"Is the señorita all right, Doctor?" one of the soldier inquired. He looked to Helm as if he was anxious to be relieved of his duty, probably had a family to go home to, a meal waiting for him.

"Yes, she is conscious and will soon make a full recovery."

"Then we must take the prisoner back to the cells." The soldier went in and escorted Marta out and across the street to the prison building.

Helm sighed and went back inside to tend to his patient. He found Tessa already on her feet, albeit somewhat unsteadily, and preparing to leave. "Where do you think you're going?" he snapped impatiently.

"Home. I must be ready for the trial again tomorrow."

"If you insist on returning to your hacienda, I'll go with you. I'll tie my horse onto the back of your wagon so I can get back."

***************

No one guarding the door, thank god, Tessa, dressed as the Queen, thought as she slipped along the hotel corridor. She now knew which room her quarry was in, having watched from the rooftop across the street. She had seen the figure move to close the hotel room curtains, then put out the light. Now, as she made her way toward the door, she halted and leaned against the wall for support. I shouldn't be doing this, she remonstrated with herself. The sharp throbbing pain in her head had only dulled slightly after she had taken the doctor's medicine earlier. I keep getting dizzy. I hope I don't faint. She laughed mirthlessly at the thought of how easy it would be to fall into Montoya's hands if she blacked out here in the hall.

She crept forward again, then stopped at the door, leaning her ear against it to listen for sounds of movement. All was quiet within as she twisted the door knob and pushed it open. Slipping inside quickly and closing the door, Tessa moved silently toward the figure on the bed. She clapped her hand over the mouth and heard a muffled scream. "Don't be afraid, Cristina," she whispered close to the girl's ear. "It's me. I need your help." Tessa moved her gloved hand away and stepped back to allow the girl to get out of the bed.

"La Reina!," the girl exclaimed in a hushed voice. "You came to ask for my help? What can I do?" Cristina leapt from the bed and picked up her shawl to cover her nightgown. Her eyes were bright with excitement.

"I may need your help to get someone out of prison," Tessa whispered as she stood next to the girl and laid her hand on Cristina's shoulder.

"Who?" Cristina asked breathlessly.

"A woman who is falsely accused of murder. She has committed no crime but that of being a Gypsy."

Cristina thrust Tessa away with a cry. "She killed my mother! She must pay!"

The sudden movement made Tessa light-headed for a second as blackness threatened to engulf her, but she grabbed the bedpost to steady herself.

"Cristina. Listen to me. Did you ever see Marta do or say anything to your mother that would suggest she would harm her? Did she not tend her night and day trying to heal her? Think, Cristina. I know you have suffered a terrible loss. I know how that feels. My mother died too, when I was very young. It is normal to want to blame someone for your pain. But this is wrong."

Tessa moved to take the young girl in an embrace and Cristina did not resist. She sobbed against Tessa's shoulder as if her heart would break. Tessa lifted the girl's chin to look into her eyes. "Cristina. You said you wanted to be like me. I fight for justice. To make someone pay for a crime she did not commit is not justice. In your heart, you know she never harmed your mother."

Cristina sniffed loudly and drew a deep breath. "If Marta didn't kill my mother, then who did?"

"Maybe no one. Perhaps your mother just died because it was her time. Sometimes people die no matter how hard we try to save them. Only God knows why." Tessa wiped the girl's tears tenderly and smiled. "Will you help me to save Marta?"

"What is she to you?"

"A friend."

"What must I do, La Reina?" Cristina rubbed her nightgown sleeve over her damp cheeks and smiled tremulously.

"Tell the whole truth tomorrow at the trial. If you do that, you will also have fought for justice."

"Just like you," the girl said with shining eyes. "I will tell what I saw. I hope it will be enough. But my father believes she is evil and should be punished. My testimony may make no difference."

"It will make a difference, Cristina. If only to yourself. You will know that what you did was right. Now I must go. Adios." Tessa gave the girl a quick kiss on the cheek and turned swiftly to the door.

"Vaya con dios," Cristina said to the retreating figure slipping out her hotel door.

*****************

In the dim moonlight filtering into her cell, Marta watched as a spider moved inexorably toward an insect caught in its web. One part of her wanted to free the insect and another said 'leave it to its fate'. She almost felt the helpless creature's terror as the spider marched down its springy web to kill its prey. At last, she got up on her cot and picked the little bug out of the web and set it on the window sill. Even as she did, she knew it was foolish, but she felt better.

She laid back down on the cot, hoping for sleep to claim her, but the occupant of the next cell was depriving her of rest. She could hear him pacing like a caged animal, sometimes muttering to himself. Finally, unable to stand it any longer she called out, "Señor Vicente!" The pacing stopped and she waited for him to answer. Marta got up from the cot and leaned against the bars at the front of the cell.

"What do you want?" he growled. "Haven't you harmed me enough?"

"You know I have never done anything to harm you. Whatever harm has been done, you have done it." She heard him come nearer to her side of the cell and knew he was only a foot away when he spoke again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw you with the glass of medicine, forcing your wife to take it. You killed her." Marta listened keenly as she heard him curse, then he struck the bars of his cell, making her recoil in alarm.

"I did not kill her!" he said harshly. "I loved her. She was everything to me."

Marta frowned, recalling that scene in the bedroom. Was he forcing his wife to drink the medicine, or was he trying to stop her? What was it he had said 'I won't let you leave me'. What did he mean by that? Looked at from a different perspective, perhaps he did not kill her. Marta thought back to the thin scars on the señora's wrists. They had puzzled her, but now she thought they might be part of a larger picture -- a picture of a sick, depressed woman wanting to end her life. Marta sagged against the wall, her heart lurching with sudden sympathy for the woman. In her deranged and terrifying world, Señora Vicente had travelled and finally escaped the only way she knew. Dios mio, the poor woman.

"Señor Vicente. Now I understand everything. You did not kill her. She took her own life." Marta paused and waited for him to answer. When he said nothing, she added, "Why did you accuse me of her death? You knew the truth." Complete silence greeted her question, and Marta wondered if he had gone back to his cot and was asleep. Soon, she heard him moving about his cell again as if greatly agitated.

After a long interval, he said, "If it was known she committed suicide, she could not be buried in consecrated ground. And the Church would allow her no Mass for the Dead. Suicides must go to a potter's field. I could not allow that to happen to my poor Juanita."

"But, señor, she is buried now. It is too late. The Church will leave her where she is. Now is the time for the truth to be told."

"What truth? That my wife had gone insane with syphilis and tried to kill herself several times in Spain? That she finally took her own life? I must protect my daughter from these truths. The family honour demands I keep silent."

"Eventually, the truth always comes out. How will your daughter feel if she learns an innocent woman died for a crime she did not commit? How will she feel about her father then?" Marta rested her forehead on the cold bars, wrestling with a sense of despair. He seemed impervious to any arguments she offered; he seemed determined to let his wife's secret die and take Marta with it.

"What do I care if one more worthless Gypsy dies or not? I will protect my family name," he snarled.

Marta heard him cross his cell and fall onto his cot. She returned to her own cot and sat with her back propped against the wall. This could be the last night of my life, she thought despondently. As the night wore on, she watched the barred pattern made by the moonlight through the cell window move across the opposite wall until it faded with the grey light of dawn.

****************

EPILOGUE

"I don't think I will ever get the stink of that prison out of my skin," Marta complained as she scrubbed vigorously with a soapy sponge. She sank under the bubbles in the tub, then emerged and commenced to scrub some more.

Tessa crossed the room with a jar in her hand. "If you keep on like that, you won't have any skin left," she jibed. "Here let me pour this on your hair. It's a scented herbal mixture I made up."

"You made it? Will it make my hair fall out?" Marta laughed.

"I used your recipe," Tessa replied slightly miffed. "Do you want it or not?"

"Go ahead." Marta submitted to the cold concoction being poured over her head and laughed again with the pure joy of being clean. "I never thought I would appreciate a bath so much. Or actually, ever again. I was sure my life was finished. If Cristina had not testified for me, I'm sure I would be dead now."

"Maybe not. Don't forget the Queen would never have let you die. And of course, once Cristina had testified in your behalf, Señor Vicente had to confess to bringing a false charge against you." Tessa paused thoughtfully, then said, "I don't know why you didn't press charges against him for attempted murder. After all he put you through, and was willing let happen to you, you let him get away with no punishment. You're sometimes a mystery to me, Marta."

"His daughter needs him, now more than ever. What purpose would have been served by putting him in jail? And also, I have spoiled Montoya's opportunity to extort more money from him. I think the fine Montoya levied for the false charge certainly made the colonel a lot richer. That was enough punishment for Señor Vicente."

Marta reached for the towelling and got out of the bath. She dried herself vigorously then slipped on her nightgown. "It will be so nice to sleep in a real bed after that horrible cot they had in the cell. It was as hard as a board. I think I am bruised all over from it." She opened the door of Tessa's room and started toward her own room.

"Wait, Marta." Tessa caught up and took her arm as she led her further down the hall. "I've had your things moved to the other bedroom. Since Señora Vicente died in your room, I thought you would prefer another. And I've had the bed and everything that touched her, burnt. I know you don't believe in marimé, but just in case..." Tessa grinned at her friend.

Marta laughed and touched Tessa's cheek affectionately. "And they call us superstitious! Thank you, Tessa. I will sleep much better in the other room." Marta turned and reached for the door of her new room. She halted and said, "And Tessa. I was right."

Tessa paused at her own door. "About what?"

"The truth did set us all free."

Tessa went into her room and closed the door. She leaned against it, pondering. Did the real truth come out at the trial, she wondered. Was justice done?

THE END

©And The Truth Shall... - Maril Swan - March 2001