Tessa stood up with the rest of the congregation. The noble families, like hers, were ensconced in pews at the front of the small church; the rest of the people stood in whatever space they could find. Sunday Mass was always crowded and this morning the heat was smothering like a moist blanket. The mingled odors of hot, sweating humanity and animal dung carried in on boots mixed with the overlaying scent of incense and burning candles. Hardly a breeze entered through the open door into which many had squeezed themselves, unable to find space inside.

As she looked around, Tessa nodded to several of her acquaintances, noting most of the women were already languidly plying their fans. She groaned inwardly, realizing this would be a solemn High Mass. Her new shoes were already starting to pinch and she wished she had not worn them. Begging forgiveness for letting her mind wander, Tessa focussed on the ritual unfolding on the altar, making the appropriate Latin responses with the rest of the assembly.

A hand to her right lightly touched hers, and she turned to smile at Simon Borges. His youthful face was alight with admiration; there was no mistaking the ardent look in his hazel eyes. His newly-repossessed lands had put him on an equal footing and Tessa knew he had fastened his hopes on her. Just yesterday, he had moved to his property, after giving the couple whom Montoya had placed there time to move their belongings. On parting, he had thanked her, kissing her hand with reverence and ardor. When Marta cleared her throat warningly, he had released Tessa's hand, blushed to the roots of his fair hair, then bowed and left the hacienda.

Tessa recalled how Simon had wanted her to go with him when he confronted Montoya with his deed and other papers. She had said, "It is not a woman's place to interfere in men's business. I will ask Señor Hidalgo and Dr. Helm to be your witnesses." Though he had been courteously insistent, Tessa knew he thought the same, that a woman would weaken his position with Montoya. Better to take a prominent male citizen and the local doctor for what could be a difficult meeting. As it turned out, Montoya had been strangely compliant and did not resist his claim. Simon had returned to her hacienda with fulsome praise of the colonel's grace and demeanor including Montoya's offers of assistance whenever needed.

She clasped her hands in front to avoid any further intimate touches from her new suitor. It is going to be hard to dissuade him from courting me, she thought, then realized she had missed one of the ritual responses and forced herself to concentrate on the Mass.

To her left, Marta stood, stalwart as ever, her head covered by a dark shawl. Though she must know the Latin by this time, she never spoke the words. Turning her head slightly, Tessa glanced past Marta to the tall man standing next to her. His clothes hung loosely on his gaunt frame and he wore boots that were too small. Still, he cleaned up real nice, Tessa mused with a little smile. Marta worked wonders with that shaggy beard and hair.

De Beauville turned to meet her eyes with an amused quirk of his lips as if he could feel her staring at him. Tessa recalled her amazement at the way Marta had transformed him. She had barbered his long beard into a neat goatee and moustache, and tied his shortened hair tidily with a ribbon behind his neck. Wearing one of Don Rafael's suits which Marta had lengthened, the Frenchman looked as aristocratic as any of the dons. Tessa was certain that Grisham would not recognise him as the vagrant who had attacked him in the cave.

A little nudge from Marta reproached her for missing another response. Tessa forced her full attention onto the altar where Padre Quintera had turned to unveil the satin-covered item he had brought in. With the ringing of a little bell from the altar boy, he faced the congregation, holding up the monstrance. A collective murmur of awe went up through the crowd at the sight of the golden cross with the white disc in the centre. The padre's face was radiant as he moved the monstrance slowly back and forth. The second altar boy waved the censer, sending up clouds of incense.

Tessa sneaked a look at de Beauville. His face was rapt, his eyes moist. As Padre Quintera's eyes met his, the priest smiled and nodded slightly.

Looking past the Frenchman, Tessa was somewhat alarmed to see Montoya staring fixedly at de Beauville, a speculative gleam in his pale eyes. When his gaze met hers, the colonel's eyes narrowed for a second, then he gave her a brief smile and returned his attention to the front of the church. Tessa experienced a jolt of fear. Had Montoya put together Grisham's report with the arrival of the sacred monstrance? Was he now wondering if de Beauville was part of the attack on the soldiers? And worst of all, did her connection with the Frenchman add yet another link to Montoya's suspicion of her as being the Queen?

Act Four

Coming out of the dim church, Tessa squinted against the glare of the sun reflecting off the pale sand and bleached adobe buildings. As always, the congregation gathered in the small square, chatting and visiting with friends they did not see except on Sundays. Peasant and noble mingled freely and the children raced about, excited to be free of the constraints of silence inside the church. De Beauville moved ahead of Tessa like a vanguard, parting the crowd so she would not be jostled too much. Beside her, Borges tentatively held her elbow, making her uncomfortable. It seemed presumptuously possessive. As soon as they were in a clear space, she pulled away gently.

"Gracias, Señor Borges, but I can manage on my own now," she said, moving closer to Marta. To one side of the crowd, she spotted Vera, her bright head bobbing under the huge wide-brimmed hat she wore. Don Gaspar was engaged in a conversation with some dons and Vera was chatting with their wives. "I'm going to speak with Vera," Tessa said to the men, as she took Marta's arm and headed toward the Hidalgos. As if unsure what to do with themselves, the two men exchanged a look, then followed.

The noise of conversation seemed louder than usual. Tessa guessed it was because of the monstrance which no one had seen before in this place. Indeed, that proved to be the case as she entered the group with the Hidalgos and was soon immersed in their speculations as to where the marvellous cross had come from.

Soon, Padre Quintera, once more in his usual brown habit, came out to join the lively crowd. It seemed to Tessa that the priest almost studiously avoided looking in their direction or greeting her small coterie.

With a quiver of alarm, she saw Montoya moving toward the padre. Tessa turned to Vera and announced, "I haven't spoken with Padre Quintera yet, and I must soon go home. Hasta luego."

The priest watched her approach, slight apprehension in his mild eyes. As she arrived, she heard Montoya say, "It seems rather suspicious, Padre, that you cannot explain how this golden object has come into your possession."

"It is not in my possession, Colonel, but the Church's. All I can tell you is that it has been missing for years and has suddenly been returned. I don't know anything more than that." The priest's face flushed as he gazed helplessly at Tessa, then at de Beauville.

Tessa realised with a start that the Frenchman had followed her and was now standing at her elbow. "Buenos Dias, Padre, Colonel. It was a very fine Mass this morning, Padre Quintera," she said flashing a bright smile at the priest.

Montoya silently studied the Frenchman for several seconds, his grey eyes seemed shuttered, his thoughts hidden as usual. "I don't believe we have been introduced, Señor..."

Tessa giggled as if flustered by her social gaffe. "I'm forgetting my manners. It's so hot today, it's a wonder I can think at all." She flourished her fan and waved it toward the Frenchman. "Señor Marcel de Beauville, this is Colonel Luis Ramirez Montoya, our esteemed military governor." She hoped her tone did not betray a hint of irony. De Beauville clicked his heels together and bowed courteously.

Montoya smiled widely. "A military man, I perceive, señor. Even in civilian clothes, a soldier can always be distinguished by his walk and manners. Were you with Napoleon in Spain?"

Tessa held her breath, then gushed, "Señor de Beauville is a friend of Señor Borges. He came from Monterrey directly to my hacienda where he has been recovering for the last week from a fever."

The colonel merely gave her an annoyed glance and returned his attention to the Frenchman. Montoya straightened, fixing de Beauville with a hard look, and said, "I was with General Palafox at Zaragoza. It was the most terrible and awe-inspiring fighting I have ever seen. From street to street and house to house, men, women, children, old people - all fighting to save their city." The colonel's pale eyes stabbed at the Frenchman remorselessly. "Nearly half the citizens died before they had to surrender and we had to withdraw to save what was left of our army."

De Beauville dropped his gaze, his pale cheeks coloured. "It was war, Colonel. There was much horror perpetrated on both sides. But the war is over. Now is the time for healing and forgiving." He reached his hand toward the colonel and waited, his hand suspended while he looked Montoya in the eye.

Montoya flicked a glance at Tessa, then compressing his lips, slowly shook de Beauvilles' hand. "I believe you are right, Señor de Beauville. We must put our old hatreds behind us."

Tessa closed her mouth quickly, realising it must have dropped open in surprise. Montoya was at Zaragoza! she thought in astonishment, remembering the horror of the news that reached Madrid from that besieged city. What terrible hardships he must have endured fighting there. She shook her head slightly in wonder. I really know nothing about this man who is my enemy, what makes him want to be an emperor after he saw what happened to Napoleon. He must be half mad. Maybe the war changed him as it did Dr. Helm. Except that Dr. Helm is driven to save lives while Montoya seems to revel in controlling life and death at his pleasure.

"Señorita Alvarado," the colonel said, turning to her. "There seems to be a constant parade of lost souls cast by the storms of life upon your shore. Why do you suppose that is?"

Tessa flipped open her fan and giggled behind it. "Who knows, Colonel? Just lucky, I guess." Determined to escape further probing by Montoya's all too-perceptive mind, Tessa took hold of de Beauville's arm and began to steer him back toward Marta and Simon. "Adios, Colonel, Padre," she remarked as she left them. Her way was suddenly blocked by Grisham, who limped in front of her.

He glared at the Frenchman, then growled at the two soldiers with him, "Arrest that man!" pointing to de Beauville.

She felt de Beauville tense, the muscle in his forearm suddenly clenched as if he was preparing to fight. Squeezing the Frenchman's arm to restrain him, she bestowed her most charming smile on Grisham. "Why, Capitan Grisham, are you going to spoil this beautiful day with such a nasty act as arresting my guest? What is the charge?"

Grisham's blue eyes glittered and his lips drew back in a snarl as he replied, "For starters, how about attempted murder of an officer of the Crown? Then, we could add assaulting and wounding the King's soldiers, ...and just for good measure, being an accomplice of the Queen of Swords. That should be enough to hang him." He motioned the soldiers forward to take hold of the accused man.

Tessa moved in front of de Beauville. From her peripheral vision, she could see Montoya moving in their direction. Her pulse began to pound and her sword hand twitched. She moistened her lips and batted her eyes at Grisham. "Capitan, those are very serious charges. How can you be sure Señor de Beauville is the man you want?"

Grisham sighed heavily, then with mock patience, said, "Señorita, when a man is strangling you to death, the one thing you notice are his eyes." He glared at the Frenchman, then added, "I would never forget those eyes." He sidestepped Tessa to move toward de Beauville, but Tessa held out her hand to block his advance.

"Señor de Beauville cannot be the man you are looking for. He was at my hacienda all last week, sick with a fever."

As Tessa stood steadfastly in his way, Grisham wavered, then looked to Colonel Montoya as if for help. By this time, a small crowd had gathered around them, murmuring amongst themselves. Montoya moved to stand beside Grisham and Tessa forced herself to hold her ground, confronted by the two men she hated and feared most. She raised her chin loftily to look down her nose at them.

Montoya began with infinite patience, as if he were speaking to a child, "Señorita Alvarado, you are standing in the way of the law. If Capitan Grisham says this is the man, then I have to believe him. He is under arrest."

"Actually, Colonel, it's the capitan's word against mine. Who should you believe, me or the capitan? But you don't have to take my word for it, ask Marta ...or Señor Borges ...or any of my workers." Tessa forced a smile as she gazed into the colonel's hard eyes. "Now, if you will excuse us, this morning's outing has been very taxing upon Señor de Beauville's strength. We should return to the coolness and quiet of my hacienda."

Continue to Part Four

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