Grisham watched, an amused twinkle in his eyes, as Montoya rampaged
around his office, his usual equanimity completely gone. Marching back
and forth like a man deranged, he kept muttering to himself, "I was so
sure. I could not have been wrong." Finally, he burst out,
"Impossible! There must some explanation!" Eyeing Grisham, he rounded
on the captain. "Are you sure the soldiers met with the Queen of
Swords?"
"Yes, sir," Grisham replied with exaggerated respect. "The coach
driver, Pietro, got a good close look. It was her, all right." Keeping
his voice carefully level, he added, "And the pirate she sent us last
night as a present, he was also sure it was her, though he didn't know
anything about the Queen. There's no doubt, Colonel. She stole the
gold from the coach, then the ransom money from the pirate." He tried
not to chuckle over the renewed frantic pacing of the colonel.
Something had upset him so completely, he was just barely able to
control himself. Grisham enjoyed the spectacle immensely while waiting
for the colonel to calm down enough for a reasonable explanation of
his discomposure.
Montoya shook his head. "I must be cursed! These events have
completely wrecked my theory of the identity of the Queen of Swords."
Glaring at Grisham as if he were responsible, he continued, "With
Tessa Alvarado out of the way temporarily, I was sure the Queen could
not appear to help that peasant farmer with his taxes. He came in this
morning with the money, said it was given him by a friend." Montoya
slammed his fist onto his desk, startling Grisham who choked back a
laugh. "That friend was the Queen, and the money was mine!"
"Excuse me, colonel, but I don't see how Señorita Alvarado's
kidnapping and the Queen stealing your money are connected." Grisham
watched the look of frustration pervading Montoya's face as his pale
eyes seemed to bulge in fury.
"Of course you do not, you ignorant fool! It is too much of a leap of
logic for your dull brain!" he shouted. Composing himself, Montoya
said, "I have suspected for a long time that Tessa Alvarado is the
Queen of Swords. This very unfortunate kidnapping was my best chance
to prove it. A wasted effort."
Grisham's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Was Montoya behind the
kidnapping? He put the life of a don's daughter in jeopardy just to
prove a theory? In spite of his mild contempt for the senorita,
Grisham began to seethe with indignation. There seemed no depth to
which Montoya would not go to get the Queen, even endangering that
silly girl. The man was obsessed, dangerously obsessed.
More calmly, Montoya asked, "What did the pirate say about the Queen
when you questioned him?"
"The man's a coward, colonel. As soon as I threatened him a little, he
sang like a bird. He said the masked woman tied him up and took the
money. Then led him, still tied on his horse, into town and left him
there. Here's the note that was stuck in his pocket when one of the
sentries found him."
Taking the note from Grisham, Montoya read aloud, "This is one of the
pirates who kidnapped Señorita Alvarado. The Queen of Swords." He
crumpled the note and threw it on his desk, groaning in frustration.
"And what of the señorita. What was the plan for the ransom and
exchange?"
*As if you didn't know,* Grisham thought angrily. Aloud he said, "The
pirate said he had set a signal fire to show he had the money. At
dawn, the ship would land at that spot, and leave the girl on shore,
unharmed."
"Now if we only knew where that spot was, you could take a squad of
soldiers there to find her and bring her back."
"Hmm, that's a puzzle, all right. Maybe someone will see her and take
her home." From the look in Montoya's eyes, Grisham could see he was
not hoping for any such conclusion.
Chapter Sixteen
Mary Rose crossed the gangplank to the pirate ship, and landed lightly
on the deck, with Tessa following close behind. The captain spied her
first mate and signalled to him. He hurried over to where she stood by
the rail. "Wycombe, I'm putting you in command of the Avenger. Anchor
here until I return from taking Señorita Alvarado back to her
hacienda. Put all the live prisoners in the hold and keep them alive.
They're worth a goodly reward. Bury the dead ones as soon as possible,
and have the hands clean up this ship. She should fetch a high price
in Monterey."
"Aye, cap'n," Wycombe said. A native of Liverpool, Wycombe was wiry
and tall, with thinning brown hair, and blue eyes whose colour seemed
to have been washed out by constant exposure to the sun and sea. His
long arms hung by his sides as he awaited further orders. Like the
rest of the crew who been in the fray, his clothing was torn and
bloody, and he had several wounds where the blood had dried on his
arms and body.
"See Dr. Helm about your wounds, Wycombe, before we take him with us.
We'll leave him in Santa Helena after we land Maria Theresa. Then we
sail for Monterey to claim our reward. The Avenger has enough treasure
in it to make us all comfortably rich." She threw her head back and
laughed, the first mate joining her. He was clearly as delighted with
the day's work as his captain.
********
The sun was beginning to set as the young peon spied the sail on the
reddening horizon. He lifted the telescope and focussed on the ship.
Too far out yet to know if it was the one Marta had sent him to watch
for. He had spent most of the last two days here on the cliffside,
camping overnight, waiting for the ship Marta was sure would be
coming. *Poor woman,* he thought. *What if it never comes? What will
she do? What will we all do with our mistress gone? We might starve as
we did after Don Alvarado died.*
With a surge of hope, he raised the glass again, and noted the ship
was closer. *Caramba! It must be her ship!* He debated with himself
whether to rush back to the villa to announce his news to Marta or
wait a little longer to be sure. Barely containing his excitement, the
boy strained his eyes with the telescope, hoping to catch a glimpse of
his mistress on the ship. That would confirm it. She was still too far
away to see anyone on board; only the white sails and the ship's wake
could be discerned.
Deciding not to wait any longer, he leapt up and ran to his burro.
*Marta will be so glad,* he thought as he climbed onto the little
beast and prodded it into a slow trot.
***********
Tessa leaned on the starboard rail, enjoying the fresh breeze on her
face, the vastness of the sea around her. *It will be good to get back
onto solid ground again,* she thought, *though I have found I love the
sea almost as much as Mary Rose does. It has many moods, and leaves
one time for thinking and introspection. Maybe too much time,* she
mused, recalling her meditations standing by the Avenger's rail only a
few nights before.
She became aware of someone standing behind her, and turned to face
Dr. Helm. She had avoided him since the Mary Rose II sailed away from
the Avenger. An awkward silence hung between them as she found herself
unable to frame a sentence; her face flushed warmly. She turned away
so he wouldn't see her sudden turmoil.
"I don't know what you must think of me," Helm began, hesitatingly.
"I've never really let anyone get very close to me. I tend to push
people away when they get close. That's what I've been doing to you."
He paused and swallowed hard, trying for composure. "I'm so drawn to
you, Tessa, I can't seem to think of anything else. Yet, I abhor what
you do. How can I reconcile that?" He turned her gently to face him.
"I confess I don't understand you, but I want to try. If only you
would give up this useless quest for vengeance. Let the law take its
course."
The resolute look on her face told Helm she would never give up and he
drew a long resigned breath. "You won't quit, and I can't accept what
you do. Have you any suggestion how to resolve this?"
Tessa touched his cheek tenderly and then placed a gentle kiss on his
lips. "Only this," she whispered, and strode quickly away.
**********
Darkness had fallen as the ship's boat lunged over the surf, rolling
toward the signal fire on the shore. The oarsmen pulled over the peaks
and troughs, a wave driving the tiny craft onto the beach. The men
leapt out and dragged the boat farther onto the strand, then helped
the young woman out onto the beach. She staggered then laughed. The
rolling of the sea had affected her equilibrium and she felt as if the
land was rising and falling like the ocean.
"Ye'll get yer landlegs back soon enough, " one of the sailors jibed,
holding Tessa steady while she waited for the land to settle beneath
her feet. "Just takes a few hours, señorita."
A woman arose from beside the signal fire, and began to run toward
them. Sudden joy filled Tessa at the sight of her beloved Mata, and
she grinned, waiting for her. Breathlessly, Marta enfolded her in a
fierce embrace, her face wet with tears. "I thought I would never see
you again, Tessa," she whispered. "But the Fates have preserved you
once again. Thank God you are back safe!" For a long time, the two
women held each other, neither able to speak. A muffled cough behind
them reminded Tessa of the sailors waiting to be dismissed.
"Thank you all," Tessa said earnestly, swallowing around the large
lump in her throat. "And may you have fair winds and safe anchorages."
The sailors saluted and began to drag the boat back into the surf,
then pushed off into the waves, heading back to their ship, its lights
and dark shape visible a few leagues offshore.
Tessa turned back to Marta, still overcome by emotion. "I missed you,
Marta. I hoped you'd know I was all right. You would feel it, if I
wasn't." She gazed fondly at the Gypsy woman and embraced her warmly
once again. Gently disengaging herself, she turned toward the horses
waiting near the signal fire. "Let's go home. I've had enough of the
sea for a long while!"
Throwing her arm over Marta's shoulder to help steady herself, she
took a few steps toward the horses. Tessa suddenly laughed and asked,
"So what happened while I was gone? Anything exciting?"
"Just the usual. Nothing to speak of." Marta turned quickly to hide
her smile, but not quickly enough that Tessa missed it. She regarded
Marta with a quizzical look, then shrugged. *She will tell me
eventually.*
THE END
La Reina del Mar ©Maril Swan January 2001
