Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input.
Chapter 10: The Tide Turns
Williams fired a shot, wounding Sergeant Diego in the chest. The corrupt soldier collapsed in a heap, clasping his chest and gasping painfully for breath.
"You…shot…me…!" wheezed Diego in agony, fearing for his life.
"You should have listened when you had the chance, Diego!" barked the Golden Sergeant, as he approached his ex-comrade. He knelt down and took the rope to bind his wrists together.
"I only warn once," Williams explained coldly, taking some dressing out from his jacket and placing it on Diego's wound. "Now if you got a brain, you'll keep that in place and lie still while we..."
"Look out, sir!"
The Golden Sergeant turned to see one of Diego's accomplices – one who didn't believe in any warnings whatsoever - aim his rifle at him, and about to squeeze the trigger. When the warning cry took the murderer by surprise. The next thing he knew, he felt his kneecap explode in blood and agony, thanks to the pistol shot that had saved the Golden Sergeant's life.
Lionel stood up to observe the corrupt scum that now lay howling on the ground, clutching his agonising wound for dear life. Lionel blew out a small sigh of relief, and then turned to see the rookie approach him.
"Nice save, Tomas," thanked Lionel to the young soldier under his command. He then nodded to the fallen criminal. "And alive, too. More witnesses to testify in court will make convictions more viable."
"Thank you, Sergeant," the newly qualified recruit acknowledged.
Williams then turned to survey all that was left of the camp, which wasn't much. Tents had been blown apart and searched, all the munitions had been seized, escape routes had been cut off, and Corporal Marco was bringing out the last of the captured corrupt soldiers and bandits.
The American breathed in the night-time air one more time, before turning to Tomas, "Is that everyone?"
"All of Sergeant Diego's men, and twenty of the dealers," reported the rookie.
"Good work, Corporal."
"But sir, Daimio and five of his men got away."
"Did they now?" smirked Lionel in satisfaction.
Meanwhile, in the cave down below, just under the grounds of the camp...
The bandits had barely mounted their horses when two sets of bolas came out of nowhere, ensnaring two of the riders and leaving them helpless and captive on the ground. The rest of Daimio's men soon fell in a mere matter of moments.
The rogue weapons dealer and notorious murderer Daimio Fernard was now the only one left, facing off against the Queen of Swords, who just kicked the pistol out of his hands as soon as he drew it. Now forced to rely on his swordplay, Daimio soon made the Avenging Angel realise that he wasn't going to go down without a fight.
But that was all.
The Queen ducked, parried and sidestepped Daimio's attacks with no trouble, and spent most of the time just smiling mockingly at him, with her left hand on her waist and her right hand resting her sword across her shoulders behind her head.
"You're not bad actually, Daimio," nodded the Queen, amused. "Just nowhere near better than me."
The provocation naturally enraged the dealer, who attacked with blind fury. The Queen (who had now gotten bored) blocked the strike, then unleashed a fearsome combination of triangles, too much for the outclassed Daimio to keep up with. The Queen backed him up against the cave wall, knocked the sword out of his hand and then finished him with the knockout blow.
The masked Tessa grinned triumphantly down at the illegal trader, placed her rapier back in the ring on her sword belt and then took her tarot card that she'd tucked away in her bodice and casually flung it on the body of her fallen foe.
Where moments later, after she'd gone, it was picked up by Sergeant Williams, whose men had found the hidden cave underneath, along with the bulk of Daimio's smuggled munitions and weapons and now had the criminal and his gang in custody.
Lionel smiled at the Queen of Swords card and then pocketed it as he left the cave to rejoin his men on the surface, saying to himself, "Thanks again, kid."
Corporals Marco, Tomas, Benjamin and all of Sergeant William's platoon now had Sergeant Diego, Daimio Fernard and all their men (corrupt soldiers and bandits alike) defeated and in chains. Reinforcements had now arrived along with several horse carts to seize the riches and munitions, and take all the arrested and slain criminals away.
Meanwhile, from Daimio's tent, the Queen and Williams secretly looked on as the soldiers cleaned up what was left of the successful operation, and smiled.
"Good going, kid," congratulated Lionel, drawing the exit covers behind him as they retreated back inside.
"Same to you, old man," Tessa smiled back, as they shook hands. "More corruption exorcised from Montoya's ranks, and one of California's biggest smugglers and arms dealers captured and put out of business."
"Sometimes I think Montoya's too desperate to get hold of his precious cannons," remarked the Golden Boy. "Mr Fernard obviously could've delivered, given how he bought his way into the aristocracy by trading in stolen military supplies from Monterey. Still a fool, though. Actually buying Diego's cover story that he was planning a mutiny against our 'esteemed governor'."
"Hmm," mused a disappointed Queen.
"What's wrong?"
"Shame that Diego's cover story will actually hold up in court. Montoya's not at the scene, not connected to the crime in anyway – again – and Diego's men don't know anything. Daimio never knew he was dealing with Montoya, and even if Diego decides to say it was Montoya, who'd believe him?"
"I know. Still, by my reckoning, that's half of the Santa Helena forces put away for corruption now. Half of Montoya's soldiers, convicted, killed and/or replaced. Those new volunteers, all the latest hand-picked transfers from Spain, my men finally back in my platoon…if we wanted too, we could overthrow the Napoleon wannabe, just like in Madrid a few years back."
The Queen of Swords gave Sergeant Williams an incredulous look.
"Joke, Queen," he smiled back, raising his eyebrows.
"A joke, Sergeant?" laughed the vigilante, fondly. "I don't know what scares me more. The idea of a revolution in Santa Helena being serious or you actually starting to crack jokes."
"Lay off, Tessa," muttered Williams, still smiling as he looked away.
"Should've known all my repartee would crack you up eventually, Lionel. I would've done it a lot sooner, you grumpy old b…"
"I said lay off, kid," turned back the Golden Sergeant, trying not to crack up. The masked senorita grinned fondly at the honest soldier before asking, "You seem a hell of a lot happier than I've ever seen you before."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. And that's good."
"Thanks. I feel good. Better than I have been in a long, long time."
"And keen, I'd noticed," remarked the masked Tessa. "Particularly over certain rookies you've been training."
"You mean Tomas?" asked Williams. "The kid's outstanding. Got both his head and heart in the right place. Completed his training quicker than the other nineteen-year-olds who enlisted in the army. Wish I had a few more like him under my command."
Facing Tessa, Lionel then asked, "How are you holding up anyway? Your ribs, the wound to your abdomen?"
"I feel great, thanks," smiled the Queen. "Been six weeks since it happened. Long gotten over it. Fit as a fiddle, that's me."
"You also seem happier than I've ever seen you before," nodded the Golden Sergeant warmly. The Queen of Swords smiled warmly as she reflected on the blossoming of her relationship with Doctor Helm. They'd chosen to keep their love private. In the eyes of the public, they were still nothing more than acquaintances. Neither wanted to do anything to make Montoya suspicious. But behind closed doors, where there was no need for disguises or pretences, it was like a dream that had finally become reality. The dinners, the quiet peaceful (private) rides out in the country, simple time together and of course, Senorita Alvarado bothering the Doctor with false/minor ailments (such as gunshot wounds and broken ribs) and the Queen and Helm still being 'forced' together in life-and-death situations.
Things had obviously changed, yet they still remained the same.
Looking back to her friend, the Queen of Swords smiled to confirm, "And with plenty of good reason."
"Good," said Lionel, happy for the kid. He then changed the subject, "Now, as you've heard, the Spanish Ambassador is arriving in Santa Helena tomorrow."
"I can't say I'm looking forward to that," the masked senorita confessed anxiously, scratching her head. "You see, the last time an ambassador from Spain came over…"
"I've read the reports, I've read Wellesley's stories," interrupted Williams, groaning. "Please say no more."
"He invited himself into my house," persisted the Avenging Angel, still annoyed over the deceased Ramirez's actions. "He slept in my bed, ate my food, drank my wine…"
"Seriously?"
"Made several passes at me and Marta, was rude to us both, tried to kill me, locked Marta and too many innocents in a cage to get to me…"
"Easy, girl! Easy!" calmed the Golden Sergeant, not wanting to hear anymore of the bastard Ramirez's evil antics. "This one is different, I assure you."
"Different how?"
"Well for starters, he's married."
"You know him personally?"
"Never had the pleasure," explained Lionel. "But I know a few things about him. Fell into favour with the King, several months back. As politicians go, this one actually seems alright. Campaigned for support to help those whose lives were damaged by the Napoleonic Wars, made a success of that. And focused on weeding out corruption from the Spanish army soon after. Able to survive quite a few assassination attempts from what I gathered."
"So he's as honest as they come then?" asked the Queen, raising an uncertain eyebrow.
"Well it was his idea to persuade the Royal Court to properly investigate the reports of corruption in California. That's one of the reasons why my request for a transfer to Santa Helena was granted, because it all tied in nicely with the Ambassador's proposal. And Montoya's request for additional troops."
"But you don't know him personally?" asked the concerned vigilante.
"Will do this time tomorrow, I guess," shrugged the honest soldier. "When he hears the reports from me personally over all the great progress we've made these last few months. And the…respectful protests from Montoya over what the fight against crime should be."
"What a surprise," smirked the masked Tessa, rolling her eyes upward. "Is Edward Wellesley coming this time?"
"NO." The sergeant's answer was hostile, instant, resolute and made the Queen's smile even more amused.
"Shame in a way," she admitted thoughtfully and admiringly. "Thanks to him, I've gotten really good press with the people back in Spain. He sent me and Marta copies of his chronicles a few months after he left with Ramirez's belongings. Really did me justice. Did I ever tell you of the story when he came back to do another write-up on me? And I saved his life from El Scorpio?"
"Let me guess," groaned Williams, really not wanting to talk about the annoying British journalist, "was it six months before I arrived in California?"
"So you did read all of Theresa's collection of stories when you were investigating me!"
"Please spare me details I already know."
"Aw, how come you don't like journalists?" asked an innocent vigilante, sympathetically.
"I just don't, alright?" stared the honest soldier, making his tiredness over the discussion painfully visible. Tessa still retained her radiant grin, eventually making Lionel regain his. He was very thankful to this mask for making him smile again, and Tessa likewise was thankful for befriending a soldier who was on her side.
"Anyway, I've gotta get back," said Lionel turning to leave. "My men'll be wondering where I am."
"I'd best be heading home, too," the Queen agreed, waving over her shoulder. "Give my love to Maria."
"Same to Marta. Thanks again for everything, kid."
"Anytime, old man. See you soon."
And so the two allies and friends parted ways. The Queen of Swords returned to Chico (safely waiting nearby) and then rode off into the night. Lionel regrouped with his men, helping his comrades clean up what was left of the crime scene and quelling queries of his absence with alibis of additional investigation.
But little did he know…that observing him from afar with his spyglass…was a man who had already turned his life upside down.
And was really looking forward to doing it again.
Colonel Montoya couldn't decide whether he really liked the new Spanish Ambassador…or really hated him.
Needless to say, the whole incident with Ramirez last year was something he'd made sure to forget as quickly as possible. His arrogance and obnoxiousness had truly been loathsome. The way he acted like he owned him and spoke down to him all the time, chastising him for one failure after the next, and having the nerve to try and steal his captain away from him. And his sheer ruthlessness as well, which normally was a trait Montoya admired. But even he wouldn't have gone as far as the ex-Ambassador had done, threatening the people the way he had.
But all the same, Montoya had gotten such enormous satisfaction out of killing him and getting away with it. As well as watching the Queen humiliate the bastard in public and make him writhe like the worm he was. It was one of those very rare times when the colonel was actually thankful to his greatest enemy.
Here and now, though…was a much different story.
The governor had read the files on Alberto Enriquez, and knew his history. A politician who had gained favour with the Spanish Court after doing sterling work in helping the lower and middle classes recover from the war. The fact that he'd survived assassination attempts several times meant he was a slippery devil. The fact that he'd actually taken a bullet for the King was admittedly impressive.
But in the eyes of Montoya…he was yet another honest, naive idealist.
They're spreading like weeds these days, thought the colonel to himself. Bad enough that Williams managed to work his way into a position of prominence…now this infectious madness has spread to the emissary.
Upon his disembarking that morning, Enriquez had acted cordially towards Montoya, shaking his hand and thanking him for greeting his arrival to Santa Helena. He'd respectfully addressed all the people that had been made to receive him and said he was looking forward to his stay and learn more about the community.
When one peasant had shouted, "Viva the Queen of Swords!" at him, Captain Grisham and two of his men had dragged the man out from the crowd and looked as though they were set to arrest him…when Ambassador Enriquez had stepped in and asked Grisham if the man was carrying a weapon or had committed a crime of any kind to merit such abuse or arrest.
"Well…technically no, Ambassador Enriquez…" began Grisham, much to Montoya's seething anger.
"Are you technically some kind of petty-minded little sadist who derives pleasure from oppressing a man for simply having an opinion?" Enriquez had asked, eyes narrowed at the captain.
"I…no, sir."
"I'm delighted to hear that, Capitan. And I will also be delighted to see you do the logical thing."
Swallowing his pride, Grisham had ordered his men to release the peasant. The ambassador had made the soldiers apologise there and then, then said the man was entitled to his opinion. He'd then secretly whispered to Montoya, "What a disappointing start, colonel. I would've thought a man of your prowess would choose better captains and soldiers than impulsive creatures with half a brain."
On the way back to town, Montoya had secretly vowed to Grisham he'd make him pay for embarrassing them both with that idiotic display, before the colonel and the ambassador rode together in the stagecoach back to town. Enriquez had then admittedly impressed Montoya with his knowledge of the reports of Santa Helena's crime rate, the actions of the deceased Sergeant Pablo and his men, various anecdotes about the Queen of Swords, notorious bandits and murderers, various complaints from Dons over the Colonel's standing, yet the positive work he had done for the community, such as ending threats like The Serpent (Montoya had smiled again over taking the credit for Helm's trophy), and of course all the sterling work achieved by Sergeant Lionel Williams.
The man clearly knows what he's on about, noted the governor to himself. Yet another tricky one. Still, if the cards are played correctly, they'll be no need to kill THIS ambassador.
Here and now, Ambassador Enriquez was standing with Montoya, Grisham and Williams in the Colonel's office. A mutual respect was already there between Williams and Enriquez, given their reputations. Williams had been sure to greet him upon his arrival to the military headquarters, as Enriquez's servants took his luggage to his room at the hotel.
The report of Williams' investigations so far into the fight against crime and corruption had been discussed professionally and to the point. Williams didn't do anything to implicate his superiors, a) because he couldn't without proof and b) he wasn't the kind of petty-minded person to do that.
Montoya had ordered Grisham to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the ambassador's stay. The colonel secretly admired Williams for the way he was handling things, and for that matter, speaking when addressed to do so.
But Montoya would be damned if he was going to let the Golden Sergeant and the ambassador subtly bring about his downfall.
"Ambassador Enriquez," came in the colonel, "with the utmost respect…all this investigation into the corruption here is noble. But at the same time, we are wasting all our resources…essentially fighting among ourselves. Surely, these efforts should be more directed at targeting notorious crime on the outside."
"You have plainly noted that in your reports to the Royal Court over the last year, Colonel Montoya," Enriquez respectfully reminded. "As had my predecessor."
"Yes, but the fact remains that the most notorious crime still roams free in the country. And it constantly threatens our community relentlessly and has yet to be dealt with."
"I agree with you entirely. Less fighting among ourselves and more focus in helping the people is definitely required. Perhaps if our own house was put in order, we would have dealt with these external problems much sooner."
"The complications have been well documented to the Spanish government, sir," explained Montoya calmly, determined to wheedle Enriquez round to his way of thinking. "But, with respect to Sergeant Williams, the disobedience of his troops and his arresting of several of my men have put the Santa Helena forces in a perpetual state of mistrust and non-coordination."
"Permission to speak, sir," came in Williams at that point.
"Granted, sergeant," replied Enriquez, who was more inclined for fair hearing on both sides instead of favouritism towards one man.
"I don't deny that this infighting has been counterproductive, but since the arrival of me and my men, the weeding out of the corruption has been both significant and vital to moving onto the apprehension of major criminals like El Scorpio, and finally unmasking and convicting smugglers like Daimio Fernard."
Grisham was trying his hardest to restrain himself. Montoya secretly cast Grisham a reminding look, before calmly stepping in again, "True. But trust, Sergeant. Loyalty. Friendship. Cooperation. These words still have value and meaning in Santa Helena. With your actions, you have replaced half of my legion with highly inexperienced reserves, new recruits, and Spanish troops you have handpicked yourself. How can this military function harmoniously other than we have only your word?"
It'll take more than THAT to provoke me into an all-out argument in front of the ambassador, SIR, thought Lionel secretly, before simply answering, "I've done only as I assured you, Colonel Montoya. I've given you my best work."
"Indeed you have, Williams," said Enriquez, taking the moment to step in before the discussion erupted into heated argument. "I know that I may come across as a hypocrite for saying this – seeing as how it was my idea to send you to Santa Helena – but the colonel does also raise a valid statement with his counterpoints. You're here to investigate both crime and corruption. While I agree that we must deal with this serious issue immediately, I also concede that if it had been dealt with sooner…we can move onto our primary concern. Which is serving the people."
Now Montoya really couldn't decide if he liked or hated Enriquez. Grisham secretly rolled his eyes upward.
"Ambassador," began the Golden Sergeant, "the fight against corruption, as you know, is an arduous and - at times – costly one. But the results have already spoken for themselves. The notorious criticisms and discussed petitions against Colonel Montoya and the army here have lessened greatly. Scathing protests have now become heartiest congratulations, not just from the people, but from powerful Dons and politicians. And that's only with half of this corruption exorcised. And that has allowed us to apprehend external threats. Our house is already getting in order. People are feeling safer and trusting us more. If they believe in what we are doing so far, we should listen to them and continue."
Enriquez studied Williams thoughtfully. Montoya saw this and realised he was losing the edge.
"Ambassador Enriquez, the people do not necessarily know what is best for them. It is because of their blinding adulation for the Queen of Swords that has made them suffer at her hands. Ambassador Ramirez's obsession with her brought about his unfortunate death, and Sergeant Williams' – quite frankly – sheer refusal to apprehend that notorious bandit, as ordered, has begotten more…"
"I am perfectly aware of her negative presence, Colonel. If you and the captain could please leave us for a moment?"
Grisham quelled his annoyance again. Montoya looked as though he'd just been slapped in the face. Struggling to raise an innocent smile, the governor asked, "You are…throwing me out of my own office?"
It was now Enriquez's turn to be annoyed as he faced the colonel and patiently said, "I will not ask you again, Montoya."
Forced to swallow his pride, the corrupt governor saluted (hiding his frustration), "Of course, sir. Captain."
And they left, with Grisham subtly glaring at Williams on the way out. The Golden Sergeant resisted a smile as the doors closed and the ambassador looked him in the eye with an unreadable expression.
"Your commanding officer is correct, Sergeant," began Enriquez. "The Queen of Swords is a very negative presence, that has bought about more harm than good."
Williams remained silent, not wanting to challenge the Ambassador, or do anything to jeopardize his cover.
"But not as the Colonel would like himself and everyone else to believe."
A confused Lionel felt inclined to ask the Spanish Ambassador what he meant. Enriquez smiled a little and explained, "I personally do not approve of vigilante justice, Williams. I never have. As I'm sure you recall, we had few too many bringing about more harm than good in Madrid under Napoleon's dictatorship."
"Indeed, sir," remembered the American, albeit reluctantly.
"The fact that the Queen is different is irrelevant. As is the number of lives she's saved and the crimes she's thwarted. At the end of the day, she remains vigilante. One that unfortunately has been accepted by the peoples of both California and Spain. If it was just the lower and middle classes, then it would not be a problem. Unfortunately, the aristocracy have also followed suit it would seem. Dons who are friends of mine, for example.
"The public should not look to masks for hope and heroics. They should be looking to us; soldiers, politicians and the Royal Court to keep the people safe. The fact that we seem to have lost their trust and support is saddening. Furthermore, your colonel's unhealthy obsession with the Queen of Swords – and Ramirez's for that matter – has been most counterproductive. Insisting that her elimination is crucial has not only backfired, it has blurred this army's focus, stopping from concentrating on their true task. In my predecessor's case, it was his downfall. Self-destruction has no place whatsoever in this line of work."
"Nor does the propaganda of yellow journalism, Mister Ambassador," pointed out Williams, referring to Edward Wellesley. Enriquez stared at the Golden Sergeant for a few seconds before snorting a little laugh, agreeing, "Indeed."
Enriquez clasped his hands behind his back and then declared, "I believe in you, Williams. That's why I overruled Colonel Montoya's initial decision and granted your request to select your own troops for your own platoon. And the results have spoken for themselves. The public likes you, the Dons have become more trusting of the Spanish army here due to your efforts, and crime rates have sharply declined.
"All your remarkable heroics in the war against Napoleon gave us back our country, and for that I thank you. That's why I convinced His Majesty to send you over here to clean up this town and improve our standing in California. And you've done just that. People are happier and feeling safer, which is just what this town, this country needs."
"Thank you, sir," nodded Lionel. "What would you have me do next?"
"Continue your excellent work. Make us look good, eliminate this cancerous corruption and crime, and serve the people. As far as the Queen is concerned, ignore her. Only step in if she steps out of line. With any luck, she'll be yesterday's news altogether. The Royal Court have agreed with my suggestions, as well as the notion of getting behind you further."
Lionel nodded his thanks again.
"It's not going to be plain sailing, Williams," warned Enriquez. "I've invested a lot of time and money in you. We all have. And although our faith may have been justified so far, it is still early days. If you make a mistake, or do anything to make your superiors, me and His Majesty look disgraceful, you will have to answer for it. Do you understand? And it's not just the people who will be out for your blood if you fail. Aristocrats, politicians, soldiers will have you and me hanged along with all those other liars and murderers you've dealt with.
"It will get harder and harder as the fight goes on. It is all on you. And you need to look deep within yourself and tell me…truthfully…can you deal with that? Yes – or – no?"
Without any hesitation, the Golden Sergeant saluted, "People need protecting and serving, Ambassador Enriquez. That's the only thing that should matter."
"Hmm," mused the powerful Spaniard, impressed. "I knew you were the right man for the job."
"I know who you really are, Tessa Alvarado."
The young senorita, dressed in her white fencing shirt, black gloves, pants and boots, stood protecting her parents' graves, barely a kilometre away from the hacienda, right on top of the cliff overlooking the shores of California.
"At long last…I can kill you and all you care about."
The menace of her opponent's words chilled her more to the bone than the breeze ever could. The senorita raised her weapon and assumed her duelling stance.
"Ready to face the end? Your Majesty?"
Tessa silently glared at her opponent ominously for a long moment. Before breaking into a mocking grin and replying, "Sorry. Got a party and a date waiting for me."
Maria, also dressed in her fencing clothes, stood opposite her with her own sabre drawn. She cocked her head to one side, smiling back, "Me too."
"So why don't you just forfeit and let me win by default?" asked Tessa, taunting her friend as they began circling each other. "You'll only lose anyway."
"Chicken!" mocked Maria playfully, before making clucking noises and then singing, "Tessa's a chicken! Tessa's a chicken!"
"Maria!"
Both combatants stopped circling to turn to Marta, who was standing witness to ensure fair play. And more importantly to keep a look out for any visitors who might stumble upon Tessa and Maria playing…and put two-and-two together about the Queen of Swords.
"Play nice," the Gypsy servant sternly warned Mrs Williams, albeit good-naturedly. "Or I'll send you straight home."
"Yes, Marta," said Maria, behaving herself. "Sorry, Marta."
"Same goes to you, Tessa. Or you'll never be allowed to have anyone come play over again."
"Yes, ma'am," nodded the senorita sheepishly.
"Good," nodded the satisfied servant, looking over her shoulder to see that they were still alright to continue. She then turned to see the two swordswomen who resumed circling, and then declared, "Begin!"
Tessa and Maria smiled, both waiting for the other to make their move. It was certainly a nice day for a duelling session. Having practiced alone ever since her return home last year, Tessa had welcomed Maria's request to be her sparring partner in this latest quiet time. For Maria, she was thankful to have the chance to get back into swordplay again. Her life would certainly depend on it once more.
And of course…she'd forgotten how much fun it was.
Maria made the first move with graceful triangles, driving Tessa back. The senorita, skilful as always, twisted her right hand accordingly to block and parry her friend's attacks. Mrs Williams smiled as Senorita Alvarado blocked her final attack and trailed her blade down that of her opponent's, before striking back with her own swordplay.
Both ladies smiled as Tessa took her turn to drive Maria back into the centre of the battleground. However, Tessa had decided to up the ante by moving faster and striking harder, pressing Maria to step up her game as well.
The American feinted a lunge to try and fool the Spaniard. She didn't fall for it, but Tessa did fall for the next thrust which Maria feinted. Left wide open, the unmasked Queen could only watch as the soldier's wife, span on the spot, swinging her sabre upward to knock the rapier out of her opponent's grasp, high into the air.
"Surprised?" beamed Maria, batting her eyelashes and getting the tip of her weapon to Tessa's throat. The aristocrat just grinned and kicked Maria's weapon out of her hand, then mid-air cartwheeled away. The American observed the Spaniard as she gracefully twisted her body - her legs spreading and kicking through the air so agilely - then landed on her feet a safe distance away, held her hand up and caught her rapier perfectly by the hilt.
"Not this time," grinned the young Alvarado, pointing her own weapon and advancing towards the now defenceless Williams.
"Not bad," conceded Maria, nodding.
"So many have said that," smirked Tessa, cocking her head to one side. She was now close enough to force Maria to yield. "Still think you can keep up?"
Maria shrugged, then back-flipped twice to retreat to her sabre on the ground. The American landed on her feet, behind her weapon, then (now in a crouched position) picked up her sword and drew her dagger, pointing both weapons up at her opponent.
"Think I may have a chance, yeah," she smiled, enjoying herself. Tessa then drew her own dagger and assumed a different stance. Both combatants paused again momentarily, allowing the breeze on the cliff to pacify them. Marta remained content and on the lookout.
The sparring partners then reengaged, swinging their primary and secondary weapons with more determination and power. As the blades clashed, the two friends enjoyed themselves, amidst the grunting and fast action. Maria was enjoying the chance to flex her muscles like this again, remembering what Lionel had taught her and all the fun she'd had with her brothers back in America so long ago.
Why should any noblewoman just be content to do what's expected of them? thought Mrs Williams happily in the calm of the sparring session. We're all equal in God's eyes. And this is just so much more fun!
I'd forgotten just how much I enjoyed doing this back in Madrid, thought Tessa as she parried Maria's overhead swing and parried the dagger away from her. Before embracing my destiny. Thought I'd never get a chance to spar with someone like this. Just with someone for the sake of fun.
"Who did you say your teacher was again?" asked Maria, as they stopped striking to grapple their weapons.
"Senor Torres," smiled Tessa through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, I'd heard of him," gnarled Maria back, smiling. "From somewhere."
"Just shows your ignorance," the senorita taunted playfully. "He's the best."
"'The best', she says," laughed the soldier's wife. "I married the best."
"Blind favouritism," sighed Tessa, as they forced each other away. The unmasked Queen twirled her weapons round her body as she paced towards Mrs Williams, who blocked accordingly.
"I beat my teacher on graduation day," said Tessa proudly, during the next stand-off. "Didn't you ever beat yours?"
"Didn't need to," shrugged Maria, blissfully. "All our bouts ended in a draw."
"A draw?"
"We squabbled, we fought…then kissed and made up."
"Cheap way out."
"Says the gal who was told staying alive is the most important thing."
"True," shrugged Tessa, before she and Maria went at it again. They duelled for a few more seconds before Alvarado used Williams' own momentum to spin her round…and kick her hard in the back.
"Ow!" cried Maria as she rolled with the kick and recovered onto her feet. "You said no hitting!"
"And you were dumb enough to believe me?" asked the noblewoman innocently as she resumed her attack. Maria then caught Tessa's weapons, forced her arms onto the ground, then shifted to the side and kneed her sharply in the stomach, enough to make her lose her hold on her blades. Maria then smiled and booted her friend onto her back, placing her foot onto Tessa's shoulder, pinning her down.
"Never ever," the housewife said.
"Marta! She's cheating!"
"Tessa started it!"
The Gypsy servant turned her head back round to face them both, apologising, "I had to keep a look out. What happened?"
Somehow, neither Tessa or Maria believed her. But while the American was distracted, the Spaniard took the opportunity to sweep Maria's legs and make her fall to the ground.
"Thanks, Marta!" shouted the senorita, mounting on top of the housewife and reaching out for the dagger nearby.
"Now you're cheating!" laughed Mrs Williams as she tried to throw Tessa off her. She just held on and the two started safely rolling towards Marta's feet, hitting each other while tumbling.
"That's enough!" said Marta, trying to put on a serious face as they stopped rolling and burst into hysterics. "You're both acting like children! You're grown women, the pair of you! And you should be ashamed!"
Tessa and Maria just couldn't stop laughing as they helped each other to their feet.
"Draw?" asked Maria, settling down.
"Draw," agreed Tessa, nodding her head. "Kill you next time."
"Not if I kill you first."
A smiling Marta shook her head at the two of them, and served up the tray of refreshments, as they took off their gloves and used the bowl of water to wash their hands and faces. They then dried themselves with the towels Marta had brought as the Gypsy gathered the swords and daggers together to wrap up in the special covering blanket.
Tessa and Maria, both with a glass of lemonade, were about to drink when suddenly…
"HELLO?"
The two friends looked to each other and Marta, shock seizing them all.
"TESSA! MARTA!" cried out the cheerful voice from below, on the hacienda grounds. "WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Vera," recognised Maria in horror.
"Why does she always just barge in like this at the worst time?" seethed Tessa in annoyance. Turning to her servant, she ordered, "Marta! Gather the swords together and put them back in the secret room! Bring the refreshments to the kitchen! Then come into the front room and drop the tray in surprise and alarm when you see us!"
"Si, senorita!" hurried Marta as she finished gathered all the together weapons and tying them up in the blanket.
"Come on, Maria! We've got to head Vera off!"
"How about I convinced you to go on a run outside with me?" the American suggested as they darted down the hill to quickly get back to the house. "Plenty of exercise and fresh air! Come on, Tessa! It'll be fun and rewarding, I said!"
"Fine! Just remember, you laugh and enjoy! I complain, then faint from over-exertion!"
They allowed themselves a quick laugh as they made it to the back of the hacienda and prepared to fool Vera.
WANT TO KNOW A SECRET ABOUT 'LIONEL WILLIAMS'? COME ALONE TO WHAT'S LEFT OF THE OLD MINE AT 10 'o' CLOCK TONIGHT…AND FIND OUT.
Montoya looked again at the note his maid had given him shortly after being told to leave his own office. An anonymous message, one that would – and should – normally be dismissed without hesitation.
Except that this letter had come with a gift.
A soldier's badge of honour, representing the American army no less.
The fact that the writer had enclosed Williams' name with quote marks was curious indeed. As was the fact that the writer had specified to meet him at the ruins of the Old Mine. Only Montoya and his lackeys, the Queen and Doctor Helm and the slaves present had known about the mine's 'unofficial' existence and the illegal goings-on. So whoever had the nerve to summon him like this…was smart enough to know who and what he was dealing with.
And he also knew of the colonel's dilemma. Sergeant Williams' prominence and mission had grown from annoying to threatening. The thwarting of the deal with Fernard had been costly, but the real issue was so many of Montoya's soldiers that had been put away and replaced. If it was just the rest of Williams' loyal idealists, or the naïve green rookies, it wouldn't too much of a problem. But incredibly, those who had followed Montoya and Grisham for years without question, were now being infected by the Golden Sergeant's crusade. Some were considering turning or had turned already, despite the dire threats the Colonel and the Captain had given.
Half of the garrison were now loyal to Williams, and the Royal Court were getting behind him now as well, creating a real power struggle. The Williams family were still under political protection as well, stopping Montoya from simply killing them. Montoya knew he had to do something to stop this madness before it spread completely and spelt his end.
"Such a shame, isn't it?" came a rough American accent. The governor blinked his eyes and calmly turned round to face his summon with a smile, as the newcomer tutted, "Loved to have seen what this place would've been like back in its heyday, Colonel. All that gold on the verge of being unearthed. And then…boom. Just before the finish line."
Montoya grinned sinisterly as he drew his pistol at the stranger, "You have a minute to convince me not to kill you, my friend. I strongly recommend you make the most of it."
The American snorted a laugh. He looked like he came from the wrong side of the Earth, or his mother's womb in Montoya's eye. He had a short, grizzly brown beard and several teeth missing. He had a horrible black eye on his left, and a pupil-less one for his right, marked by a vicious scar. Despite his appearance – scruffy, outlaw clothing and a body odour problem – he looked in fighting shape, with his strong build and menacing demeanour.
Undeterred by Montoya's threat, the stranger smirked, "Heard about Daimio Fernard finally being put outta business. That must have been a bit of a pisser when it happened, eh? I should know. I was there to see it."
"You obviously know much, my nameless friend. Perhaps more than is good for you. Thirty seconds."
"You came alone?" the stranger asked, folding his arms.
"Of course," nodded the governor, as though he'd been asked a stupid question.
"I'm insulted, Montoya. I expected better."
At that moment, twenty-five bandits emerged from the rocks and shadows, all cocking their rifles and pistols and targeting the colonel from every possible vantage point, high and low. Their leader snorted another laugh and then spat on the ground, before drawing his own pistol and pointing it at the colonel, who wasn't in the least bit surprised over this turn of events.
"Want to know the reason why you're still alive?" sniggered the stranger.
"I already know," explained the still-smiling governor. "I already know what the words 'come alone' mean."
Now it was the turn of the soldiers to spring out from their hiding places, pointing their weapons at the mysterious outlaw and all his following, covering them in positions to blow them away one by one. The bandits then changed their own positions to target their own soldier.
"Whenever one says 'come alone'," explained Montoya, pistol still raised as he approached the stranger, "that always means you bring weapons and reinforcements. Because you can believe that the inviter would never be stupid enough to honour such stipulations."
As Captain Grisham appeared from behind, he pointed his pistol to the outlaw's head. Exactly as the criminal drew a second pistol and pointed over his shoulder to Grisham's face. The captain just raised an eyebrow, as the American outlaw smirked again.
"Expect better, you get it," nodded the stranger at the equally respectful Montoya. They both looked around to see both sides poised to kill each other and then laughed together, lowering their weapons.
"I think you've convinced me of your worth in spectacular fashion," nodded the colonel, signalling for Grisham and his men to put their guns down. "Mister…?"
"Conrad," introduced the outlaw, signalling for his own men to lay down their arms. "Malcolm Conrad. Straight to business. I know enough about you, Colonel. Your reputation precedes you. And for the record, I'm deeply honoured."
"Flattery can get you everywhere, Mister Conrad," nodded Montoya amicably as they shook hands. "So long as it comes with accompaniments. And compensation for daring to call me all the way out here in the chilling wind."
"You look as though you can deal with it."
"True…but I do not have to like it. Or the mere idea of being summoned in this fashion, by someone who knows too much. I am not known for granting private audiences to outlaws. And American ones at that."
"I always knew you Spanish were such ass-clowns," scoffed Conrad, mockingly. "Had no idea you were this full of s…"
"Are we getting to the point tonight or should we just kill each other?" asked the governor, looking at his fingers. Conrad smirked again, amused and impressed, before nodding his agreement.
"I know enough about you, Montoya. And I don't need evidence to know what you're really like. And you know that I'm not afraid to give my name, so ergo…I'm not afraid to die. We've both got equal bodies of men. As has…'Lionel Williams'."
"We are both perfectly aware of that, my friend. The quote marks used in referring to the Golden Sergeant obviously imply you know something that's worth my time. And that there is no love lost between you both whatsoever. You seek to join forces with me. While a proposition could be worth my while given the current crisis I face…my question to you is 'why'?"
Conrad slowly took some documents out of his coat pocket and handed it to the colonel. Grisham studied the outlaw menacingly, not trusting him at all as Montoya took the documents, and unfolded them to begin reading.
They were official reports belonging to the American army, dating back to 1807. The Colonel didn't bother to ask Conrad how he acquired this information, seeing it as an irrelevant question. The governor spent the next few moments reading the reports…and then slowly looked back up to the American outlaw, who raised and lowered his eyebrows in delight.
"More than worth your time, Montoya. I think you'll agree."
"Indeed so…" nodded the colonel, chuckling softly and evilly. "Poor, unfortunate, little Malcolm."
"Do you want to review those one more time before submitting to the ambassador?"
"No, no…I think these revisions are suitable enough. And the information already speaks for itself. Now, then…shall we get down to business? Properly?"