NEUTRAL GROUND

by Jo
EnyaJo@aol.com

This goes after Montoya challenge responses I've made in the past, most recently, last week's. I don't remember if some of this was posted already. All I know is that it's been sitting on my hard drive for a while. The Montoya challenge responses that have to do with this are: When Montoya saw Tessa dressed as the Queen in her home: http://www.oocities.org/pmpcah/guess.html

When Montoya went on a time warp adventure with the Gun Guys: http://www.oocities.org/pmpcah/jonoplace.html

And Aunt Beatriz responses: http://www.oocities.org/pmpcah/jobeatriz.html

But, I'm sure this is pretty self explanatory. The gist is, Montoya is going to invite the Queen to dinner as his aunt has suggested, to treat her like a lady, at least a person, and try to trap her.

Thanks to Maril for helping me figure out where this meal would take place.

~~~~~

Marta laid a basket of fresh fruit in the back of the wagon and said, "These lemons are perfectly ripe."

"More lemonade..." Tessa said vacantly, because her focus was on the crowd surrounding the pueblo's bulletin board.

"I was thinking more of Lemon Meringue Pie or custard," Marta was heard saying as Tessa walked into the ruckus surrounding a placard. "You do not care for my lemonade?"

Tessa was more interested in the bulletin board, and started towards it. She could hear people say, "I wonder if she will take him up on it", "She would never put herself in such a position", "What is the Colonel thinking?", "It is a trap. Clear and simple."

The placard was simply worded. "La Riena de Espada is cordially invited to a private dinner at the Cantina with Colonel Montoya. Tuesday eve. Eight pm."

A woman asked incredulously, "Would it be possible that he wants to make a deal with her?"

Tessa laughed with the others over such a thought. It was absurd of him to even think the Queen would appear. She brought out her fan to wave slowly under her chin. Marta walked to her and read the notice. Tessa twirled her fan in her left hand as she stared at Marta, to signal that, of course, they could be being watched at that moment. Marta took Tessa's arm and brought her to the wagon. "What does that man have planned?"

When they were far from town, on the way back to the hacienda, Tessa finally said, "He may propose a treaty."

"More like collect his trophy, if you ask me," Marta said.

"It is so blatant. Has Colonel Montoya actually run out of ideas?" With those words, Tessa and Marta laughed. Tessa's laugh was more carefree, as she was deep in thought covering all the angles of such a meeting.

Marta's laugh was tight. "You are not actually thinking of going, are you?"

Tessa didn't say anything, just held a pleasant smile as they rode past the crevice where the Queen had saved the Colonel's life. The look on his face as he had dangled, holding on for dear life to a limb, wearing such unusual clothing, didn't look right. His face displayed an emotion she never thought she'd see. It was one of fear, hopelessness, dire need. After he was safely on horizontal ground thanks to a rope attached to Chico and he had looked up at her knowing that he was safe, at least from the crevice, his face once again held confidence. That could only have been on the surface. His body must have still been carrying the effects of a near death experience, but he displayed on his commanding face, as if he had flipped a switch. At that moment, Tessa had known that Colonel Montoya was actually a human that needed to play a role. Just as she did.

~~~~~

Montoya stood at the rail of his balcony watching the citizens mingle near the invitation he had placed at the bulletin board. He looked at each and every dark haired woman, wearing their long hair up or letting it flow down their backs, for any indication of surprise, fright, or letting it slip that they are the target of his latest stratagem. His aunt was old, a lush, crippled, but she did still have her mind when she decided to use it. From the time Montoya was a little boy, he had trusted her judgement, and decided that nothing that he or Grisham had done had trapped the Queen. It was time to resort to Beatriz's scheme. He grunted with frustration when none of the women in the square fit the description of the Queen.

He watched Maria Teresa Alvarado's wagon ride down the street to the road leading to her hacienda. She had her hair put up that morning, as only Marta's long curly hair had flown in the wind behind them. There was a time when Montoya had thought Marta the Queen. One never could trust Gypsies. Montoya didn't know all there was to hair care, but he finally convinced himself that Marta could not possibly straighten her hair each time she would dress as the Queen. His eyes once again scanned the citizens below for any indication of familiarity. Montoya seethed about the one thing he couldn't figure out. He had been toe to toe with the woman in black. He had memorized every feature not covered with lace, yet her identity had escaped him.

~~~~~

Marta fumed as Tessa sat at the kitchen table making a list of all the pros and cons of such a meeting with Montoya. "I cannot believe you are taking this plot of his seriously, Tessa," Marta remarked, as she squeezed some freshly cut lemons into the custard batter. "I've seen you do many things... save men from the noose as he is surrounded by every man in Montoya's garrison, swim out to a ship to save Doctor Helm in the middle of the night, fight soldiers as you hung off the end of a runaway wagon. You have fought Montoya hand to hand, but I never imagined that you would sit down to a meal with him."

"Maybe we can talk this all out. I'm a member of the Court. My father, and by extension, me, has pull back in Spain."

Marta stood agape. "You are not thinking of telling him who you are! Tell me you have not lost every sense you have."

"Of course not," Tessa countered. "Montoya may say something that I can use against him. We have only exchanged barbs, played the game of one-upmanship. I have to start collecting evidence. A closed mouth catches no flies."

Marta said, "An open mouth is an invitation to insert one's foot."

Tessa replied, "Fortune sides with him who dares."

"Montoya will have the cantina surrounded by guards, but you will not be able to see them, they will be in the shadows. Do not always expect good to happen, but do not let evil take you by surprise."

"I can have my own guards."

Tessa's smile made Marta about drop the bowl of batter as she was about to pour it into the pan. "Who?"

"The dinner is two days away. The Queen could ride to all the people she has helped and ask for their assistance, with their rifles."

"You want a blood bath."

"Of course not. I just want Montoya to see that the Queen may be a powerful opponent on her own, but she does have back up."

"You realize that you are speaking of the Queen as if she is a different person, Tessa."

Tessa pondered that for a moment and stated, "She is. Sometimes I think she is smarter than me. She is certainly more daring. Sometimes I cannot believe what she does, that I do, in her shoes... boots."

"She is your venturesome side. The side of you that I do not care for."

"Marta!"

"It is true! Do you think I enjoy that side of your personality taking over and making you go out that door dressed in the clothes I made her, with the thought that you may not return?"

"You have always been so encouraging in the past."

"Of course. You are convinced that you are fulfilling your father's wish, your destiny. Do not go, Tessa. There will always be another time, when *you* decide, on *your* territory. You can not walk into Montoya's trap."

"They will think me a coward if I do not appear."

"Who?"

"The people."

"They will think differently the next time you rescue one of them," Marta responded as she set the custard pan on the hook above the flames in the fireplace.

~~~~~

Montoya had it all figured out. The citizens of Santa Helena were warned to not leave their homes on that evening. The thought of stray bullets had turned Santa Helena into a ghost town. His men were strategically placed out of the way, but close enough to shoot the Queen as soon as she was secure enough to even ride into Santa Helena, let alone walk into the cantina. The only visitor Montoya received was a scared little boy transporting a message. Montoya ripped the note from the lad and dismissed him. It didn't take much to make that boy run, and as soon as Montoya ordered, "Go away," the boy made tracks.

Montoya groaned with irritation as he opened the parchment. A Queen of Swords tarot card slipped out and landed on his lap. The note read, "Maybe some other time, where I suggest. It would be interesting to pick your brain. Thank you for the invitation nonetheless."

"GRISHAM!" Montoya yelled as he stood up from the set table and threw his napkin on the chair.

It didn't take the Captain long to walk in the front door. "What did that kid want?"

Montoya silently shoved the note in Grisham's hand and went home to have a talk to his aunt for planting that hair brained scheme in his head in the first place.

~~~~~

Beatriz, for once on an early evening, was reading a book while laying in her bed. Montoya was curious to see where she was hiding the bottle, and did a little search. Beatriz silently watched, but when he raised her sheet, she snapped at him, "What are you doing here? Do you not have a date?"

"I have no idea why I listen to you," Montoya muttered as he paced. "I command a militia. I cast fear into my enemies. I control a fortune in Spanish gold to make sure that this Godforsaken countryside becomes a functioning society."

Beatriz sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "She did not come, did she? I told you she would not come to you. You have to go to her."

"When did you say that?"

"When you were planning the dinner at the cantina. I was telling you that you should not plan that far ahead. Mostly, you have to roll with the flow. That is your problem, Bunkie. You need to have control."

"If I lose control, I could be killed."

"Bah," she said, and used her cane to lift herself to her feet. Her hand went out and Montoya took it, stabilizing her stance. "From what I hear, if she wanted to kill you, you would be pushing up daisies by now."

"What all have you heard?"

"The same as you, only I have actually been listening."

Montoya realized as he looked at his favored aunt that she had shrunk even more, if that was possible. When she had arrived in Santa Helena after the death of Montoya's uncle and Luis had made arrangements for her to spend her last days with him, the only family either of them had left, she was smaller in stature than he remembered as a child and young man. But he was positive she had shrunk even more since her arrival. Her mouth on the other hand, hadn't. She said, "Will you finally listen to me? Not just taking what you want to hear, but really listening to me?"

"I have been, much to my detriment."

Beatriz slapped his forehead. "Do not talk to me in such a manner, or I will have to leave you."

Montoya chuckled. Where does she have to go?

"You must treat her like a lady," Beatriz said. "With this evening, you acted as if she is a militia on the way to sign a truce, but would take her out if things do not go your way."

"And?"

"That is the wrong tactic. I know you do not want to think of this, but first and foremost, she is a woman."

"I should have produced flowers?"

"Madre Dios," Beatriz muttered. "Think farther than the surface. I have seen you overcome formidable odds. I have seen you outsmart the most cunning thieves. Think. Or instead, listen to me. I have only your best interest at heart, Bunkie."

~~~~~

Mary Rose was overseeing the unloading of her ship after her latest excursion up the coast. Now that she was back on dry land, she could see how her ranch prospered during her absence. Her sons usually handled everything deftly, but she always liked to see with her own eyes how things were progressing. She mounted her horse and took one last look at the unloading of her ship. Then she rode off to the cliffs that the skirted the ocean. Taking the narrow, steep trail up the side of the cliff, she could feel herself being watched and stretched in the saddle to take in all around her. She gripped her rifle's handle strapped to the saddle as she arrived at the top. Standing at the lip of the cliff, Mary Rose saw a sight she didn't think she'd come face to face with again. The Queen of Swords. Mary Rose knew that the Queen was still riding, but hadn't come across her since the Queen forfeited taking her life when she came to save Tessa Alvarado's gypsy cook.

"Well, well, well," Mary Rose said as she slowly nudged her mount closer to the woman in black. "What do we have here?"

"How is your neck," the Queen boasted.

"Still keeping my head on my shoulders. I did not know where to send the thank you note, if that is what you want."

"I need a favor."

"Now that is the most interesting thing that has happened to me in quite a long while," Mary Rose said, smiling. "I cannot imagine what you would need me to do."

~~~~~

Montoya arrived at the arranged meeting place with no men, no firearms, no sword. He was just sitting in a small boat while one of Mary Rose's men rowed it out to her ship, moored far from shore. The 'invitation' had been short and sweet, "Tonight. The shore. No weapons or guards or no dinner for you. Mary Rose and the Queen of Swords."

He couldn't imagine what Mary Rose had to do with anything that he had planned with the Queen, but if he knew one thing about Mary Rose, she wasn't a murderer. In fact, even though he had tried to take over her land and hang her beloved son, she had been downright cordial in recent months. She was always invited to his fiestas at his manor, but had attended only a couple of times. He had men watch her ranch and ship from afar to see if she was planning anything. In the last months, nothing inappropriate had come to his attention.

It would be just like a woman. The Queen had gotten another powerful woman to act as go between, why didn't he think of that? He had sharpshooters on the cliffs, but the ship was moored out too far to be effective. The only thing he could hope for was that if he was walking into an ambush, that his men would be able to avenge his death. The fact that Mary Rose's beloved son, Anton, was given to Montoya as proof that he would not be harmed during the course of the evening helped Montoya believe that this would indeed just be a meal.

This cat and mouse game with the Queen had to stop. From what he could see, this may be a way to bend her to his will, and most of all, find out just what it was she wanted. "Justice" as she had told him in the past was too general. He needed specifics.

As the row boat neared the Mary Rose, he hoped his aunt hadn't talked him into being a sacrificial lamb. She had been convinced that this arrangement would be the only way in which to see the Queen face to mask, without the lunge and parry that usually went along with it. "Be calm, be careful, and be a gentlemen," Beatriz had reminded him as he was leaving, dressed in his finest suit. She had also convinced him to leave his uniforms in the closet. "Maybe, if she sees you in something other than military cloth, you will be able to at least take that mask off."

Montoya chuckled. That wasn't what he was expecting. Not at all. But, a conversation without a duel to tend to would be interesting to see what she would mistakenly tell him. He didn't want to fight her, he needed to find out who she was. Then it would only be a matter of swooping in for the kill. With her identity revealed, there would not be no place with which to escape.

He saw Mary Rose standing confidently at the rail of her ship. She saluted him as two of her men hooked the small craft to the ship near a rope ladder which Montoya could use to embark. "Colonel," she said, grasping his hand and pulling him up to the deck. "It is a pleasure, of course."

"Thank you, Señora. I am looking forward to this evening. Has the other guest of honor arrived?" He looked back toward the shore and saw no sign of her horse behind any nooks or crannies or trees.

"All in due time, Colonel. Please come with me."

He followed her through a door and down a hallway, toward the dining room, he guessed. "How did you get involved with this meal, Señora? Are you and the Queen the best of friends?" He looked at her long, blond hair flowing behind her. There had also been a time when he had convinced himself that the Queen was Mary Rose herself, but again, the hair was not right.

The dining room was set with Mary Rose's finest silver and china. Very nice indeed, Montoya had to think. Flowers in vases, appetizers on a side board. Wine chilling in bucket alongside the end placement. Montoya thought that there was no way he was going to lose his head this evening by drinking wine. He looked out the window to see that there was no ledge, only a clear, long drop to the sea. If anyone was on top of this room, Montoya was sure that they could be heard.

Mary Rose didn't offer him a chair, as he had expected. She asked, "Do you trust me, Colonel?"

"Of course, Señora, with Anton in my Captain's hands at the jail. Tell me, why would you sacrifice your son for the Queen of Swords?"

"I have not sacrificed anything. Anton will be returned as soon as you are full and back on shore, correct?"

Mary Rose could be sinister when she put her mind to it. Montoya smiled. "Of course, Señora. Of course."

Montoya walked to the sideboard and picked up a wrapped sliver of ham. "Do you and the Queen go way back? Are you old friends?"

"New acquaintances, really. In fact, I do not think of her as a friend, but rather a party to which another party wants to talk to. She told me that she is as interested in this meeting as you are."

He looked out the window towards the shore again. "When will she be arriving?"

The door opened and Montoya didn't need to turn around to know that the cause of so many sleepless nights had joined them. It seemed as if the woman in black sucked all the air out of the room. "Colonel," she said. "So nice to see you again."

Montoya did a slow turn to see her standing pompously at the door. She shut it with force, and held her hands to her hips. "Señora," Montoya said to Mary Rose. "Although they are attractive accessories on a lady, I was under the impression that whips, daggers and swords were not allowed at this dinner."

"I did." Mary Rose motioned that the Queen should surrender them. Montoya got a kick watching her unarm herself. Right down to the brass knuckles she had in her other boot. Odd. He hadn't seen her use that yet. With any luck, she wouldn't use any of her weapons again.

Mary Rose, weighed under by the arms, bid them a farewell and told them to not hesitate to call for anything that they would need. Before long, she had made her exit and shut the door behind her. The Queen and Montoya circled each other, making sure that the table was between them. The Queen lifted the bottle of wine from the ice bucket and said, "I will pass on that, but would you like a glass?"

"Are you concerned that it would be poisoned?"

They continued circling the table as the Queen said, "I only fear that your heart is poisoned, Colonel."

"Ah, we start with compliments. That is always a nice way to start a meeting."

"I was under the impression that this was a dinner."

"It is whatever we decide it is." Montoya slipped the chair out from the table near the wine bucket and said, "Señorita. Have a seat."

"You do not have to pretend that you are a gentleman, Colonel."

"Luis. My name is Luis. And you are?"

"Amused by your blatant traps." The Queen edged closer to him, on guard for anything that he might do. As she took each hesitant step, he only held the back of the chair. "It will be the covert traps that I will have to be on my guard for."

"Sit down," Montoya encouraged her, still holding the chair as a gentleman should.

She sat, but didn't take her eyes off him as he moved her chair forward to a proper distance from the table. He took a seat opposite her at the table, and they took a moment to stare each other down. Montoya tried to see through that mask, to make the cheeks and eyes come to life along with her chin and neck that he knew so well. Of all the women in the community that he had scrutinized, none of them had that chin. It would have be to eyes that would give her away. He could tell that she used some blackening agent to make them seem a part of the mask.

"I must admit that this is strange," The Queen confessed, a little on guard.

"We are people. We must eat," Montoya replied with a gallant smile. He lifted a tiny bell next to his plate and used it. They heard the rustling of feet coming closer to the door and soon servants appeared with soup.

Nothing was said until the servants again made their exit, and each other their napkins were properly placed on their laps. Montoya took note that the Queen automatically placed the napkin on her lap, and when she ate the soup, she pushed the spoon against the opposite edge of the bowl, as a cultured woman would know to do.

"Are you not going to eat, Colonel?"

"I am just taking in the atmosphere," he replied, then mimicked her way of holding her spoon and ate. Yes. She was well bred. What made her resort to using a sword? Because she used it so adeptly, Montoya had always assumed that she was of a lower class. No lady took fencing. But then again, she was no 'lady'. She had done things that would make ladies cringe, and the Court wasn't any too happy with her either.

As if well timed, the servants returned with the main course just as they had both finished their soup. One would think that since Mary Rose was one with the sea, that paella would be served. The prawns, squid and mussels looked succulent and perfectly prepared. The placement of it on the bed of rice was appetizing. The entire plate looked colorful. Kudos for the chef. Each of their water glasses were refilled, and Montoya said, "You can take the wine. Tea will be appreciated after the entree."

The manservant bowed next to him. "Of course, Colonel. With dessert."

Montoya smiled at the Queen after the servants made their departure. "Ah, yes. Of course. Dessert. Mary Rose thought of everything. Tell me, I have made no arrangements with Mary Rose for her delightful hospitality this evening. What did you promise her?"

"That is really none of your business." He watched the Queen take a pepper onto her fork, but she let it hover over her plate. "You first, Colonel."

"But it is my business. I am partaking in this meal. How much did it cost you? Can you afford it?"

"I can."

"Have a lot of reales, do you? Or do you steal what you need?"

The Queen smiled. "I do not steal for myself, Colonel."

"Who do you steal for?"

"The people you wrong."

"People I have wronged?" He looked at the walls as if he heard the most outrageous thing ever. "I keep the peace and make sure the community progresses."

"If you are going to assume that I am an idiot, I might as well leave now."

"No." Montoya grinned as he told her, "If you are not one thing, it is an idiot. I do give you that."

"I am blushing."

"Lift the mask so I may see."

"Take my word for it."

"How long have you lived in the area?" Montoya flippantly asked as he took a bite of a prawn.

"All my life," she replied without hesitation. Montoya took that as a slip, and he did see her cover herself. He acted as if he didn't catch it, looking only at his food and taking a forkful of peas, peppers and rice. "I am well aware of your deeds here." She lightly chuckled. "And to think, I thought the last military governor was off his rocker."

"Are you insinuating that I am crazy?"

"Hell bent on power, Colonel. Am I wrong in that assumption?"

"I am wounded," he feigned hurt.

"You do not want to be military governor the rest of you life. You have plans."

"You do not want to ride as the Queen the rest of your life."

"We both want something, that is true," the Queen said softly. "Many things, in fact."

Montoya took it as a sign that she was softening. If he acted correctly, she may give more away. He did a mental tally and found that she was schooled, took fencing lessons, probably without her parents knowing, and if she was to be believed, didn't steal for herself. "What is it that you truly want, Reina?" he questioned nonchalantly.

"Revenge," she simply stated, her eyes glaring at him through that blasted mask.

"For?"

"The death of my," she said quickly, then she paused, then added, "my... husband."

"Your husband?"

She continued her glare. He said cordially, "You must accept my apology. I have been calling you Señorita."

"I do not care what you have called me, and I am positive that you have called me worse than that. I care about what you do and who you destroy in the process."

"So, you are under the impression that I killed your husband. When was this?"

"I will not play your game. It is your turn now."

"My turn? Sure. I will play along with you." Montoya wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back, thinking that he would enjoy giving her non-answers, although she had given him many clues to her identity. He wondered if she knew it.

"So compliant, you are," she commented.

"Let the game progress."

She was silent as she watched him sitting carefree on his chair. He wasn't going to tell her anything that was even close to the truth, but he displayed a cooperative stature. She finally, pointedly ask, "How did you feel at Eduardo's funeral?"

Montoya's head hummed with a sudden disorienting buzz. He blinked to make sure that he was still sitting at the table with that impossible woman across from him. He collected his thoughts. There were many Eduardo's in the world. There may be many right there in that pueblo. But he hadn't attended any of their funerals. The only Eduardo he had seen laid to rest was his life-long friend who was cut down in the prime of his life by a cold blooded murderer. That had happened back in Spain; how on earth could she know that?

He collected himself, thinking it was a trap. It was a lucky guess. She had to be talking of someone else. He could feel his face was flushed and took a drink of water, then held the glass in front of his face.

She continued, "You feel so helpless standing there as the padre gives mass sending your best friend's soul on its way to the afterlife that you will have no part of. You wonder if you could have done something to save him, if you had only paid attention to what was happening around him. You were young and foolish. You did not think that harm could actually come to those you love. You feel so lost. The world is suddenly so foreign and so completely unfair. Correct?"

Montoya returned her stare. "Bravo, Reina. You have been checking up on me. Very good. Know your enemy." He nodded as he slowly smiled.

"Did you kill him too?"

Montoya stood and slammed the napkin on the chair. He wished linen made more noise, he was so angry. He had to collect himself. She had found out something in his past that happened over twenty years ago and he couldn't figure out who she was when she was standing in the same room with him! He fought off the impulse to rip that mask off her face. He needed information, not lose his composure. She would not get the better of him. This was his idea. No, it was his aunt's. Damn her! Damn them both.

"Tell me about your husband's funeral, Señora," he said with urgency to move the discussion back to her.

~~~~~

The Queen smiled. She had gotten the better of him and she silently enjoyed her small victory. Having gossipy friends in Spain to inquire in letters about the Colonel in the pueblo came up with interesting information. None of it was useful, she thought at the time. One line from a letter of one of their servants at the house in Madrid about a friend Montoya had when he was younger did indeed come in handy. She thought she was doing quite well during this little tête-à-tête . If she could just control her emotions when thoughts of her father came to mind, she would come from this the victor.

He was needling her for information again. "Tell me about your husband's funeral, Señora."

Señora... She liked that last minute save when she almost blurted out 'my father'. Tessa was now certain that she thought faster on her feet than she did without the mask. She told him, "Why? So you can gloat?"

"You have me at quite the disadvantage, Señora. Was I at his service?"

Tessa smiled at him. "Maybe you would be better served thinking about who you killed. Granted, that would more than likely take the rest of your life, but do you ever think about the families you ruin?"

"I think about the families I save. It is you who ruin families. Do you think my men who have been wounded by you do not have wives? Children? I have seen you slash your way through them without a thought."

"You have no idea what I think."

"You think that you have self righteous anger. That your loss is more to suffer than anyone else. You so callously brought up my old friend who was murdered... just to see my reaction? Did it surprise you that I still feel that loss? Do you think I am made of stone?"

"I think that you are made of ambitious fiber and will let no one get in your way." The Queen cockily tossed her head to the side. "I should feel special that you have not figured out who I am as yet."

"I have my ideas," he said with bravado.

"Then I suppose I should start quaking in my boots."

"What could you possibly do to me if you were to know who I was?"

"Show me your entire face, and we will find out."

"You cannot have me arrested. I have only stolen from what you have. I know about your secret chamber. I know your hidden drawers in the bureau of your bedroom." She could see the wheels turning in his mind, where he will hide is stolen riches now... she had a few ideas and it would be another adventure to find them out. "I have given a sealed envelop to third parties. They were told, and I trust them, not to open them unless the Queen of Swords was killed or captured. If you were to know my identity, the Spanish Court will know all about what you are doing here to 'keep the peace and make sure the community progresses'."

"They would know you are making things up."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive, Señora. Why have you not told them already?"

"Because I do not the Court to dole your punishment for your deeds, I believe the people of your peaceful and progressive community would like to punish you themselves. Up close. Personally."

"You are so wrapped up in your own loss, you do not even see how sick your twisted mind really is. Perhaps the good doctor should examine your head as well as the rest of you, as I am sure he has once or twice."

"That was the one thing you right, Colonel. You brought the right doctor here. He is caring, smart, and does not judge people by many reales they have. He does not use people."

"Yes, Doctor Helm is many things," Montoya agreed. "You have seen past his transgressions, only because you like him."

"Some men try to remedy their past deeds, while others wear them as a badge of honor."

Tessa heard the thump of many feet slamming down onto the roof of the room they were in, and immediately went to the window. Seeing nothing but the moon against the black sky, she flattened herself against the wall and guarded looked towards Montoya. The easy smile on his lips, and twinkle in his eye revealed that the newcomers had to be lead by Captain Grisham. The feet pounding on the deck spread out in all directions above them. "Leave it to you to never go anywhere without reinforcements."

Montoya easily made his way to the door and slightly bowed his head to her. "It has been a delight, Señora, but the time for this nonsense is over."

Montoya took one last look at his prey, complying with his hope that she would be cowering in the corner like the trapped animal that she was. He opened the door to allow Grisham and two guards entrance. He could see Mary Rose being held by two men, and the men were having a job of keeping her under control, in the hallway. "Montoya! These men were not on the guest list."

"I forgot to mention them. The meal was delicious, Mary Rose, but I believe we will provide our own dessert." Montoya cocked his head at Grisham and happily announced, "Get her."

"Who?" Grisham asked, as he looked around the room. He even stooped down to look under the table.

Montoya whipped around to see the Queen was no longer standing where she had been just moments ago, and the porthole was open. "Outside! Now! She's in the water! Go!"

As Montoya stalked past Mary Rose, who had a bemused expression on her face, she said, "Little cat she is. You cannot keep her in one place."

Montoya stopped his stride to face her. "You are her cohort. For that, you will pay." He walked on, but then added, "No. Anton will pay for his mother's crime."

"I have committed no crime," she told him as he was almost to the steps leading to the deck. "And as you will soon find out, Colonel, Anton is no longer in your custody."

"Arrest her!"

"You have nothing on me. I simply made sure you met with the Queen, and made sure my son, who has done nothing, was not part of your power play."

~~~~~

Air. Fresh air. After struggling free from the grip of a nasty undertow, Tessa had made it to the surface to get precious air. She treaded water to look back at the Mary Rose in the distance, to see their hostess' men fighting off Montoya's. Some men had landed in the water, shouting and the clinking of swords could be heard about the extremely windy night. Having no weaponry at her disposal, Tessa nixed the idea of going back to help defend Mary Rose's property. Chico had been left on the cliff near a mesquite tree, and she decided that she would have to swim around the jetty and sneak back around to retrieve him.

As she started to swim, she realized that she was without her mask. The ribbon holding it in place had to have snapped when she broke the surface of the water after the jump off the ship. Tessa reflectively went under to search for it, not wanting to be seen without it, but the slight grasp of the rushing riptide upon her arms as she dove down made her rise again to the surface before being swept out to sea.

While trying to stay afloat on the battering sea, she took the black satin blouse and red sash that instantly signified that she was the Queen of Swords off, and then started to swim against the current to a jetty at the end of the cove Montoya's men had staked claim to. It was a hard and long swim, but soon the current was drifting her in the direction she wanted to go and got to solid ground. She walked out of the water with her last bit of strength. Getting up onto the sand, Tessa collapsed face down and heard the commotion down the coast along with the waves snacking the shoreline, as well as her own leaving breaths. Taking only a break to rest and work out her arms from the swim, she straightened her white undershirt, now filthy as the rest of her must be, and made her way to the underbrush to keep her unseen by any forces guarding the perimeter of the Mary Rose.

As she quietly made her way to where she had left Chico, and hopefully Montoya's men hadn't found him, Tessa thought of Marta and could almost hear her wise voice, "So, what did you actually accomplish, Tessita?"

"I didn't give myself away, that is a plus," Tessa told herself to give her the endurance to keep moving through the wild toward her mode of transportation home. Leave it to Montoya to pull such a stunt as to have his forces converge on the ship when he had promised he wouldn't. As Tessa spotted Chico exactly where she had left him, she knew that to get her proof of Montoya's role in her father's murder, she would have to do it without his help. She cringed when she imagined all the years that it might take her, but the comforting memory of her father would give her the strength and courage to continue. It would take as long as it will take. Tessa had the determination to see it through, no matter how many years she would have to endure because Montoya would be covering his tracks with each and every step he made.

~~~~~

Montoya had left a small unit of men to patrol the shoreline as the Queen hadn't been captured. The height from where she had jumped could very well have killed her as soon as she entered the hard surface of the water. That was one idea that tickled Montoya, but he couldn't believe luck would smile on him in such a manner. One of the men scanning the coast that early morning saw debris that had been swept ashore by the crashing waves of the evening before. He soon called to his buddy within hearing range, "I found something!"

He stopped before the find, falling on his knees. He gently lifted the long, red fabric, encrusted with sand and dried into a crinkled mess, in his hand. He triumphantly held it up for the three men who had come running from his call. "The Queen's! We must show Montoya immediately."

Another man came running from the jetty with a black crumpled mass in his hands. "Her blouse."

"Little by little, we are finding her clothing," Grisham mused as he approached them and collected the items from his underlings. "Since we have already found her mask, it can only be assumed that she is half naked. We can hope that the sea killed her. But as Montoya always says, never assume anything. The Queen of Swords is still missing. There is no celebration as of yet."

~~~~~

Marta had been up all evening, waiting for Tessa to return from the insipid meeting she was determined to attend. Montoya attacking her, Tessa cold, Mary Rose and her son in danger. All the tarot told her made Marta worry more. She had just hung kettle of water on the fire when she heard a commotion outside. She rushed to the door to see Tessa, wearing black and white, sitting heavily on Chico as the horse knew exactly where to go, into the stables. Marta rushed out, knowing that the workers might have started to work and she was only wearing her robe, to help Tessa down from Chico. They fell to the ground, Tessa in her lap. "Tessa? Were you shot? Did you get stabbed?" Marta looked over Tessa's undershirt, but only saw grime.

"It was the ocean that did me in. I am only tired."

Tessa gave Marta a hug and then got to her feet and wobbled. Marta held her as they walked back to the house. "I have water to boil for tea, but I think a nice hot bath would be putting the water to better use."

"You are a life saver, Marta. That sounds wonderful," Tessa said weakly, each step she took was a chore, and Marta lifted her so that she would take more of Tessa's weight for her.

~~~~~

Marta had gotten the bath ready and looked for Tessa, who was just going to get out of those clothes that would probably never be clean again, and found her laying asleep on her bed having only shed that white undershirt. Marta took a blanket and covered her, brushed her hair back and kissed her on the cheek. Once again, she had returned from a run in with Montoya. As Marta shut Tessa's bedroom door, Marta wondered how many times Tessa would be able to do it.

~~~~~

Montoya finally fell into bed after the long, but interesting evening. Some of his men were ready to celebrate that the Queen had been killed, her body swept out to sea, it's current so rough it had stripped clothes from her body. Montoya couldn't allow such thoughts to enter his mind, and told his men not to either. There was a formidable opponent out there, one who shouldn't be taken lightly. He closed his eyes with thoughts of how he would be able to one day get the better of her, when his peace was broken with the squeaky opening of his door. He would have to tell his servants once again to oil the hinges. He opened his eyes to see his aunt at his bedside. "Ah!" he reflectively cried out not expecting her to move so stealthy and being so close.

"I heard what happened," Beatriz said. "Poor Bunkie. You cannot help yourself. You have to resort to military means, no matter how hard you try. You spoiled my plan."

"Whatever, Auntie. Go back to bed. It is still early and God knows you need your beauty sleep."

Beatriz sat heavily on the bed, making it rock with her sudden weight. "I think you do not want to find out who she is, or capture her."

"Oh, yes. I enjoy my plans being thwarted. I enjoy being robbed. I do so like it when my men fall. However did you guess."

"What did you find out about her?"

"She is a cultured recent widow."

Beatriz' eyebrows scrunched as she looked off in the distance. "There are no cultured recent widows in Santa Helena, or are there? I have not been here that long."

"No, there are not. She was lying, of course. Nevertheless, I let her think I was being duped."

Beatriz saw the mound of fabric on his dresser and tried to get up with help from her cane to investigate, but couldn't get the leverage. Montoya kneed her on the butt to provide it and she was suddenly at the dresser, hanging on so as not to fall. She lifted the black lace mask and chuckled. "You unmasked her!"

"She was unmasked, yes, that is true," Montoya said, turning onto his side and stared up at her. He cried out in surprise again to see that she had put on the soiled mask. "Take that off!" Now all the warped but eerily delightful dreams of the masked Queen in his bedroom were shot all to hell to see Beatriz' wrinkled mouth visible below it. "Take it off now."

Beatriz fingered the red sash and black blouse. "You have half a Queen here. Are you going to construct your own in some way?"

"Would you kindly bless me with your absence?"

"Yes." Beatriz put the mask in her robe's pocket and moved to the door with her cane. "I will not provide you with perfect plans any longer, either. You always find a way to involve men with guns and mess them up anyway."

Only after the door closed and Montoya was able to stretch out on his back and clasp his hands behind his head and stare up at the ceiling to think did he feel peace again. Yes, the widow part was a ruse. There was no way, however, that she could cover the fact that she was schooled. The Queen was a well bred woman of undetermined age, who learned to use a sword, more than likely without her father or husband, if she was married, knowing about it, and one more thing... someone close to you had died and for some reason blamed Montoya personally for it. She also had to have friends in Spain, who knew of him when he was younger. Or, she may have known Montoya herself, when he was younger. Of all the women he knew, even slightly, all his life flowed through his mind as he closed his eyes and finally succumbed to sleep.

THE END