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 4: Forced Alliances
Five men, battered and broken, lay groaning and moaning. Over the floor, across smashed tables and chairs, or buried under barrels. Rum was leaking everywhere, having escaped from barrels that had splintered from impact. The spilt liquor almost covered the whole floor, soaking and staining the clothes of the fallen men, and leaving the owners with quite a mess to clean up. It was just as well that the room was dimly lit, so no one could see all the carnage. It was just as well that no one really bothered with the stores at night, so no one was around to hear the commotion.
Just as well…for a certain sergeant.
The last bandit standing flew across the room, smashing hard against the row of kegs, which now began to leak upon impact. The soldier wouldn't let even him slump to the floor. He pinned him by his throat and began choking him.
"Raiding booze caches now, Ramiro?" tutted Williams, shaking his head. "That desperate for money you'd raid private liquor? I thought you couldn't possibly be anymore pathetic. Obviously, I was wrong."
Ramiro's contused face shifted angrily at the smiling sergeant.
"Still, all this vintage should help you sleep tonight. It'll leave you with a really bad hangover, though. Which'll make your appointment with the gallows that much painful in the morning. Sweet dreams, anyway."
"You let me hang, you'll be too late to stop my brother," warned Ramiro, mockingly. Williams' eyes narrowed.
"We'll see about that."
"Do you wanna take that chance, Williams? Many more people will suffer if I die."
"You were a glorified luggage monkey to your younger brother," laughed Lionel, choking the bandit some more. "What could you possibly be trusted with?"
"Alright, alright!" panicked Ramiro, fighting for breath. "It's the Dons! It's the Dons!"
The sergeant's interest then sprouted. Lightening his pressure to allow the bandit to talk more clearly, he asked, "What about them?"
"They're rich," grinned Ramiro evilly. "Rich, fat piggies that will squeal real good for money. Surprised you didn't know that."
Lionel reasserted his grip. Then took his knife to the bandits' throat.
"Okay! Okay!" pleaded Ramiro. "They're not too happy with your behaviour and performance since you got here. Calling you lazy and rude. Montoya's getting heat for you as well. Which is why they're all gathering together. Discussing a petition to get rid of you both."
"Really? So how does a slimy little toad like you know about this? And Benito for that matter? When Montoya doesn't?"
"My brother's got good spies. Ones who always keep their ears to the wall. And ones who make good servants. I overheard Benito talking about it before he kicked me out. This has only been discussed privately in homes, not in the streets. That's why Montoya doesn't know. The Dons are gathering soon, ripe for the plunder. Maybe if you give me a break, I'll see what I can do to…"
"Where and when?" interrupted Williams, driving the blade closer to his throat. "Then maybe…you can have a life sentence."
Ramiro sneered his contempt, then quickly gasped under the pressure, coming out with, "2 'o' clock, Friday morning. Don Vega's hacienda, in his courtyard. Benito's planning to infiltrate the hacienda with his own men. I'd love nothing more than to show the little swine who's boss."
Williams considered all this. Ramiro was a coward who'd do anything to save his own neck, and Benito's planning sounded like this. Satisfied, he released the bandit, letting him slump finally to the floor. More liquor dripped over his head, as the sergeant turned away.
"Have a nice sleep in the cells, Ramiro. Thanks again," he added as he left to call in his troops.
"You're dead, Williams!" shouted the enraged criminal.
"What are you going to do? Tell your brother? Tell Montoya?"
Williams left. His troops would be here shortly to gather up the rabble. Ramiro panted for air and nursed his throat, surveying the ruins of his stupid plan. He then heard slow footsteps emerge from the shadows, gently splashing through the puddles of alcohol.
"You said he wouldn't lay a finger on me!"
"Ah, you looked as though you were doing alright there," downplayed the newcomer.
"Doing better than you did, I'd wager."
Ramiro's sniggers were immediately silenced by the sword now pointed at his throat. The wielder just grinned back, highly amused. "You really think so?"
Ramiro gulped, then nodded slightly to the ruins of his gang and scheme.
"Satisfied?"
"Very much so, Ramiro," nodded Grisham. "Very much so."
The next morning, in Tessa's bedroom. Marta was sat at the dresser reading her tarot cards. Tessa was nearly Queen, having just finished tying up her black bodice. The young Alvarado had a focused look. Not easy to sport, given that she had a lot on her mind right now. Marta turned over one card and placed it on top of the dresser.
"Ten of Wands," declared the Gypsy. "A strong, determined man has come."
"Obviously," remarked Tessa, finding her gloves.
Marta then drew the Queen of Swords. Tessa stopped for a moment to see this, and cocked her head to one side.
"And?" she pressed further.
"Your destinies are already intertwined," explained Marta, drawing another card. Then turning it over slowly, it was revealed to be the card of Death. Tessa twitched uncomfortably at the sight of it. Needless to say, she always hated it whenever Marta drew that card.
"This is not the end," assured the servant slowly. "Merely a transition. There is one more."
Marta placed the final card on the dresser for her and Tessa to see.
"The Wheel of Fortune," gasped Marta, very surprised. "Your union will change everything…forever."
Tessa had finished putting her gloves on and her eyes were now fixed on the Wheel of Fortune.
"So Williams and I will become allies?"
"Even if the cards hadn't spoken to me," confessed Marta, looking up to her mistress and friend, "it seemed destined to happen anyway."
"I find that unlikely," retorted Tessa as she turned to get her mask.
"He went from assuming you to be a bandit to recognising you as a vigilante," reasoned Marta, shuffling the rest of her cards together. "And he's seeking out the truth before all else. What does that say to you?"
The young noblewoman sighed anxiously, "That he's a good, honest man. When Esperanza was murdered, I saw his pain. I saw his anger directed at Montoya. He's here to rid Santa Helena of corruption, I know all that. But we're two very different people. I'm still allowed to have my doubts about soldiers after everything I've been through."
"Just as he's surely allowed to have his doubts about those who hide behind masks," Marta pointed out gently. "There's a lot you still don't know about him. Your destinies are similar. That's why they are intertwined. And evidently special."
"What does it mean that Death will draw us closer together?" asked Tessa, slipping her shawl mask on, before pressing warily, "Whose death?"
"A death. That's all I know. But it signifies a transition, towards something great. Which death it is…it may be irrelevant in the end."
"Death is never irrelevant, Marta!"
"Are you fearing that it will be Maria's?"
The Queen exhaled fearfully before answering, "Yes. I am scared it will be Maria's."
"Tessa…"
"You drew that card before and I lost Antonio," reminded the noblewoman painfully. "You drew it again and Raul died before he could tell me who killed my father. I hate that card."
"Death doesn't always mean the ending of a cycle," assured Marta with vindication. "It can also mean transition into a new state or finishing up! You must have faith! Focus on the Wheel of Fortune."
The Queen of Swords looked down on the floor for a moment, sighed and then nodded, "I'll try, Marta. I just…I just wish I knew for myself."
"Do you know why you invited the sergeant to dinner?"
"No."
"Well, maybe if you can figure that out…you can figure out the rest."
The masked Tessa sighed again decisively, "I hope it means trust and friendship. Really, I do. But I'll have to figure it out later."
The Queen strapped her sword to her side, and then left the room, saying to Marta, "Right now, I've got work to do. I'm not failing the Garcias again."
"Colonel Montoya," began Don Vega, walking alongside the governor and his captain in the main street outside the military headquarters, "when you persuaded the Dons to fund your request for reinforcements from Spain, you said to us that our investments would reap mighty rewards. It's been well over a month now…and we have yet to see your promised results."
"Don Vega, you must understand that change in our war against crime simply does not happen overnight…"
"Don't insult my intelligence, Montoya!" snapped Vega, his patience sorely tested. "You've had your precious additional troops and nothing more has come from it! Our community is still being threatened by bandits! Surely some progress should've been made by now!"
The colonel stopped to stare down the Don. Vega had always been antagonistic towards the governor. And what made him such difficult opposition was that he was honest as well as intelligent.
"Perhaps the news of the bandit Ramiro's arrest last night, conducted by Sergeant Williams, has eluded you," remarked Montoya. "Personally, it does not surprise me that such important news would filter slowly to someone who couldn't care less about…"
"The apprehension of a pitiful clown who raids liquor stores is hardly what I call progress, colonel."
"Bet he hardly calls flapping his gums real progress to the situation, either," muttered Grisham.
"When I want the opinions of glorified lap dogs, captain," Vega turned menacingly, "I will give them a biscuit."
The Don ignored Grisham's dirty look and turned back to the governor. "Colonel…I was completely against this notion of bringing more manpower over from Spain. Because I personally feel you care much more about building your dream empire then serving your people. If it hadn't been for several of my fellow Dons…'somehow' changing their minds, your request would have been vetoed. Do not forget that."
"Tell me, Don Vega," began Montoya, regarding his adversary as though he were a stupid hypocrite, "how can you have these expectations if you are against me? When my interests are clearly the same as yours? Enforcing the law upon these animals with more effective manpower."
"You should've been able to do your job with what you already had! And yet you clearly seem more focused on either targeting struggling families…or vigilantes that are doing your job better than you!"
"The Queen of Swords is a corrupting influence on Santa Helena. I am most surprised that she has gotten to you, too. You, an intelligent, rational man, allowing your judgement to be clouded…"
"That woman saved my daughter's life from that scum, El Scorpio, and instead of chasing after him, you fire your guns at her! Every time she saves lives or gives to the people, for that matter! I am not surprised at this. Why else would you lie to the Dons about her, just so you could get Gaspar to approve your precious marshal law? Do tell me, colonel. I am most eager to hear the latest spin that comes out of your mouth."
Montoya seethed angrily, secretly cursing Vega's opposition and acumen. He would never live the marshal law down. Thanks to Grisham, who he reminded with an intimidating glance.
"Don Vega…" he began again, trying to keep his temper.
"Enough! The facts are that the situation in Santa Helena has not changed, your reinforcements have not delivered, you are wasting time over tax payments and ownership of land, and the Queen of Swords is where we should be placing our faith in. I will meet with my fellow Dons and tell them that you have failed to fulfil your obligations. You can expect a petition shortly requesting immediate removal of your…"
The faint sound of people cheering suddenly came into earshot. Vega's fierce expression loosened with curiosity and he turned to look at what the commotion was all about. Montoya and Grisham also moved to see what was going on. The crowd's cheers were growing louder and louder, and the sight of soldiers riding into town grew nearer and nearer.
"Viva Sergeant Williams!"
"Thank you, Sergeant!"
"Golden Sergeant!"
"Williams! Williams! Williams!"
Peasants were running behind the cavalry in elation, and middle classes were now giving Lionel and his troops a standing ovation. A horse wagon stopped near the entrance to the jailhouse, full of tied up, notorious bandits. Being pulled forward (unceremoniously) by Williams' horse was the bandits' captured and ruthless leader, El Scorpio. A savage animal who murdered and pillaged everywhere he went. And had evaded capture every time he committed a crime.
Until today.
Soldiers formed a blockade to keep back the swarming, cheering crowd. Williams halted his horse and then jerked the rope attached to his saddle to make Scorpio fall flat on his face. The sergeant then dismounted and cut the tow rope. Don Vega's face was content, but inside he was much more impressed. Montoya looked to the fallen murderer, his indifferent features masking both his humiliation and satisfaction. Williams had upstaged him again, yet in doing so, had given the military more positive publicity.
Grisham's face, still visibly battered from his fight with Williams, simply stared at his sergeant with great disdain, as he grabbed Scorpio by the back of the neck and made him stand up. Williams, likewise still sporting contusions, acknowledged his superiors.
"Colonel Montoya. Captain Grisham," he greeted professionally.
"Well done, sergeant," nodded the governor, before casually turning to Don Vega, "Do you still doubt my promises now, Vega? And where my interests lie?"
The aristocrat simply raised an eyebrow at Montoya. He turned to Williams who asked, "I take it you obviously know this man, Don Vega."
"Obviously, sergeant," he snorted, as El Scorpio, sporting a bloody mouth and forehead, grinned at him.
"How's your daughter, amigo?"
"Alive and well," admitted the Don, before giving the bandit a vicious slap across the face, almost knocking him out of Williams' grasp. The sergeant then turned to two of his troops and ordered them to, "Put him and the rest of his filth in the cells." He then shoved El Scorpio away to cement his victory.
"Don Vega, I apologise you have had to wait this long for justice," said Williams, who had respected and admired Vega since the day they'd met.
"You have nothing to apologise for, sergeant," dismissed the aristocrat, equally respectful. "Excellent work."
"Thank you, sir."
"I will be sure to tell all my fellow Dons of this, colonel," nodded Vega. "You should consider yourself lucky. That we now have real soldiers to carry you and the captain. You can no longer expect any petition. Good day."
Vega nodded his gratitude to Williams and then left. The crowd cheered more for Williams and then were told to disperse by rude soldiers. The sergeant smiled a little and then considered a moment about the Don. He had obviously been conferring with the others about himself and Montoya, but if Vega had changed his mind and was no longer considering removal…would this now invalidate Benito's operation?
"It would seem congratulations are in order, sergeant," nodded Montoya, impressed. "I think it is safe to say you have now redeemed yourself."
"Thank you, colonel," saluted Williams, standing to attention. Grisham's evil eyes pierced into him. The sergeant then turned to his superior and nodded professionally, "Thank you, captain."
"I wasn't commending you, Williams," stated Grisham clearly.
"Forgive me, sir. I believed that was the implication."
Grisham restrained himself, remembering that Montoya was in front of him. The governor fought an amused smile that was trying to creep on his lips.
"At ease, sergeant," he dismissed with pride. Williams then turned to look in the centre of the town to see the gallows finished being set up.
"I am flattered that you have faith in my abilities, sir," remarked Lionel. "I see a noose was already prepared for El Scorpio."
"I'm afraid you misunderstand, my eager sergeant," chuckled Montoya softly. "Your prisoner will have to wait his turn. This noose is for Lucia Garcia."
Shock overwhelmed Williams as he looked back to the colonel smiling evilly. Grisham's sadistic grin erupted as Lionel's eyes glanced over both of them. The sergeant discreetly gulped and tried to keep his fear and anger in check.
"Such a shame," sighed Montoya, as he nodded over to the sight of the guards bringing Lucia out to the noose awaiting her. "After all those warnings, the…unfortunate loss of her mother…and she is still behind on her tax payments. Clearly too much responsibility for one so young. But she was warned. If she wishes to partake in an adult's world, she must be prepared for whatever consequences she brings upon herself."
The cruel governor turned to his silent sergeant and asked, "Perhaps you would care to see?"
"Forgive me, colonel," apologised Williams coolly, "but I must make preparations for the next…"
"It is not a suggestion, sergeant. It is an order."
Williams glanced coldly at the captain, who shrugged, "Orders are orders. You know that."
"If you would like to follow me, Williams," gestured Montoya with delight. "Grisham."
"Right away, sir," saluted the captain as he left to oversee the hanging. Shouting over his shoulder, he laughed, "You're lucky, sergeant! You get to watch the show! I've got to work!"
Yeah…thought Lionel as he followed Montoya towards his office balcony. Lucky.
Moments later, the crowd was assembled around the gallows. The weeping Lucia, with her head now in the noose, and her younger brothers being held back by a family friend for their own safety, were painfully visible for Lionel to see, as he stood by the ever-smug Montoya's side.
The executioner was right behind Lucia, big, burly and his whole head covered in a horrible black mask. Lionel's eye twitched over the sight of him. His mind flashed back to Spain all those years ago…when his contempt for those who wore masks intensified even more.
The soldiers on guard were ready for anything. Grisham was ready to give the signal. And the smiling devil turned to see his sergeant trying so hard to hide his revulsion.
"I must confess surprise," admitted Montoya casually. "One who does so much to feed the execution machine…lacks the stomach to appreciate what he himself has created."
"Why are you making me watch this?" asked Williams coldly, before thinking to himself, As if I don't already know.
"Because," said Montoya, simply. "You need not shed tears over this family of criminals. Good will come out of them. Their land and holdings will help finance the state in our war against crime. And the two brothers shall be put up for adoption, where they will find a new home and life."
Does the home and life include ball and chains, prison bars or simply five seconds before a noose? thought Lionel.
"Captain Grisham!" shouted the colonel. Grisham grinned like an excited child at his superior and then turned to mock Williams, who just glared at him.
"Executioner!" shouted the captain, as he raised his sword up high. He let it glisten in the sun, as the burly executioner clutched the trap door lever tightly. Lucia closed her eyes ready to face the end. Her angry, despairing brothers continued to struggle to free themselves from the protective adult. A great silence fell over the sickened crowd.
Montoya smiled. Williams closed his eyes.
"Now!"
The executioner prepared to pull the lever but out of nowhere, the Queen's whip ensnared round his neck, choking him and making him let go of the lever. The crowd erupted into another uproar of approval, matching the one they'd given the sergeant earlier. The vigilante pulled hard, grimacing over the weight of the bulky executioner. Thankfully, he was too deep in surprise and couldn't help but stumble backwards as the Queen pulled him off the gallows stage. The executioner landed hard on the ground before, on the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
"KILL HER!" yelled Montoya, as the Queen climbed onto the stage, to the wild approval of all the peasants, middle classes and aristocrats. She swung her sword and cut the rope, freeing the grateful Lucia from the crossbeam, much to the delight of her excited brothers. Williams couldn't help but raise a small smile of relief. It soon vanished when he saw soldiers raise their rifles at the Queen.
"Hold your fire!" ordered Williams from the balcony. "There's too many people! Disperse the crowd and move in with swords!"
The confused soldiers hesitantly lowered their weapons as they looked to an angry Grisham who barked, "Just shoot her, you morons!"
"Colonel!" implored Williams.
"Do as the sergeant says!" barked Montoya, having no time for bickering right now, and fearful of reprisals from the Dons if any rich snob was caught in the crossfire. "Grisham, move in close and kill them both!"
The captain sneered angrily and drew his own sword, taking a squad with him as they sprinted for the gallows, where the other soldiers moved in to hold the cheering people back.
"Be thankful your orders were sound, sergeant," snapped the governor. "I punish people severely who seek to undermine me."
"Get down!" yelled the Queen to Lucia as soldiers climbed up onto the stage to engage her. Lucia lay down, putting her hands on her head, as the Queen ducked and weaved, parrying the soldiers' swords, quickly disarming them and knocking them off the stage. She then turned to see Grisham and four men all run up the steps to her. She was ready for them though and quickly took out a small net she'd brought with her, and flung it at the rabble coming at her. The net expanded in the air, becoming much larger as it unfolded and engulfing Grisham and his men. They all struggled to fight the inconceivable mesh and fell backwards together down the steps, uncontrollably punching and kicking each other as they fought to get free.
"Better luck next time, captain!" beamed the Queen before turning to help the young Garcia to her feet.
"Come on, Lucia!"
The people continued to cheer. Doctor Helm was among the crowd, and again, he couldn't help but smile in pleasure and approval as he saw the Queen of Swords once again perform another miracle. He then turned to look up to the balcony to see the colonel fuming as always, much to the doctor's delight. Then he saw Sergeant Williams and considered him thoughtfully. Their conversation a few weeks back hadn't changed his overall verdict of Williams, but his willingness to listen to the truth about the Queen and Santa Helena had made Helm realise that Williams was actually here to help.
Williams' small smile, hidden from Montoya's sight, gave away his satisfaction over the vigilante's latest exploit.
Within seconds, the Queen had Lucia by the hand and they were soon on horseback, with Montoya screaming at his soldiers to get after them. The Queen's eyes caught Lionel's eyes at one point. They were both smiling. But seconds after their eyes met, Tessa and Williams' smiles dropped, both still unsure.
"Williams!" barked Montoya angrily. "Why are you standing there? Shoot her!"
"I'm afraid I can't, sir," explained Williams regretfully. "You suggested I should stay away from the Queen. I know it was a suggestion…but your suggestions are really orders, aren't they? And I should be following them to the letter. Besides, you are a colonel. And I am just a mere sergeant. What could I possibly do against a bandit?"
Montoya looked as though he was about to explode over Williams' frustrating, insolent acumen. But the excited people screaming, "Queen!", "Viva the Queen!" and "God bless you, Queen!" made him look to see the vigilante and Lucia ride hard and fast out of town. Applause, cheers, laughs and the silent, smiles of approval from Doctor Helm and Don Vega said it all. Another glorious victory for the champion of Santa Helena.
The colonel and the sergeant then turned to see that Grisham was the first to finally escape from the net. He got to his feet and kicked the huddle of trapped soldiers angrily, screaming abuse and calling them useless.
"I should not despair, colonel," remarked Williams innocently. "After all…you still have El Scorpio's death to look forward to. I will prepare the gallows again. Hopefully, this execution should go without interruption. Please excuse me, I have preparations to attend to."
And he left before the seething Montoya could say another word.
Much later, the masked Tessa had successfully eluded the pursuers and had managed to return safely to the Garcia Ranch. She halted her horse just outside the house and Lucia got off.
"We've lost them," assured the Queen. "Montoya won't come after you again, I give you my word. Your brothers will be home shortly."
Lucia smiled weakly, her eyes still weeping and nodded, "Thank you."
The vigilante gave a painful sigh and looked down on the ground before daring to look at Lucia with eyes filled with remorse and saying, "I'm so sorry about your mother. If I'd have known earlier…I swear I was preoccupied… "
The twenty-one-year-old Lucia exhaled painfully and interrupted, "I don't blame you for anything. Neither do my brothers. They came in the middle of the night when we weren't expecting anything. I'm tired of hating, I'm tired of fearing…I just…I just want a normal life for us. That's all my parents wanted. That's all we want."
"I know. And I swear you'll get it. The fiesta's only three weeks away. I can keep Montoya occupied with other things so he won't harass you."
Lucia looked over all her father's land that she was now fighting to keep. All the animals and crops that her parents had built up from nothing, and she had helped prosper as she grew up.
"When my father was still alive," began Lucia, smiling in remembrance, "he always said that we would plant and grow, raise and look after. And we would give to the people, and they would give to us. When he died, people doubted if his dream could live on without him. Montoya always wanted to take everything from us. My mother tried so hard, I did all I could to help her…but the odds were against us."
"You were able to fight back though," remarked the Queen earnestly. "Business was picking up for you. You were able to make profit again."
"Thanks to Mrs Williams," conceded Lucia, shedding a grateful tear. "She took pity on us when my mama was murdered. She helped us out in her own spare time to help run the farm…bought all her meat, vegetables, eggs and milk from us, put word out…we were able to pick up all the old customers we lost, make our deliveries on time again, and we were slowly starting to get on top of our tax payments. And then Montoya struck again."
"You're still winning, Lucia," encouraged the vigilante. "You've shown that you can run this place as well as your father. You're high on the list of people the fiesta's going to help. A lot of money is going into the fundraiser and so much more will be made on the day itself. Just keep going and when it's all over the land will be yours. The people are all helping you, because you're a cause worth fighting for. Remember that."
Lucia breathed in deep contemplation and then turned back to the masked Tessa, asking with concern, "What about Sergeant Williams?"
The question took the Avenging Angel by surprise. "What about him?" she asked hesitantly.
"The night after my mother died…he came to my house to apologise, and give me a bag of reales to help. I slammed the door in his face because I was scared. And then I remembered, you and he saved my mother's life from that soldier. Maybe I was wrong to fear him, because I think he means well. And after meeting his wife…"
Lucia looked up to the Queen again and asked, "What do you think?"
I don't know, thought Tessa. But I can't tell Lucia that. But how can I tell her something I don't know if I believe in yet?
The Avenging Angel paused and then answered, "I don't think Williams is like everyone else. You have a right to be suspicious but not forever. A time's going to come where you may give him the benefit of the doubt. A friend of mine told me that we must have faith. And I think we should."
Lucia thought about this long and hard. The right people were helping her because they had faith in her. Just as she and everyone else had faith in the Queen to keep them safe.
"I have to go now, Lucia," nodded the masked Tessa as she turned to ride off.
"Queen."
The vigilante stopped to look at the girl who began to smile optimistically, "I needed to hear that. About Sergeant Williams, about people, about faith…thank you. For everything."
The Queen of Swords smiled back and then rode away. Thinking herself that maybe it was time to start listening to Marta's advice after all.
Focus on the Wheel of Fortune.
Back in Montoya's office…
"First he fouls up that operation to kill the Queen and costs us the Garcia land," reasoned a highly annoyed Grisham. "Then he humiliates me in front of our own men, shows us up in front of Don Vega and all of Santa Helena, has the nerve to order us not to shoot and save us a world of grief, refuses point-blank to kill the Queen…and he constantly mouths off to us and acts like he can get away with it…"
"Two sides to everything, Grisham," silenced Montoya, burying his own emotions under a sea of clarity. "There is the personal side. And the business side. Personally, I would love nothing more than to agree wholeheartedly with your criticisms of Williams and subsequent suggestions of what to do with the Golden Sergeant. He is indeed rude, insolent and a problem that could blow up in our faces."
"I think he already has, sir."
"No, captain. Not yet. On the business side of things, his presence here in Santa Helena is working. He has effectively started moulding this army into the force it should be. He's highly skilled at organising the rabble, stamping down on bothersome bandits like El Scorpio and he's giving me the good publicity I desperately needed. The Dons are starting to feel less critical of me, the people are feeling safer, and are asking less questions. As infuriating as the situation is, it's also benefiting me."
"So what are we gonna do, then?" sighed the captain, impatiently. "Just sit back and take it?"
"Quell your murderous urges. Williams is not a stupid man. He knows how to tread thin ice without falling through, which is testament to his expertise. But at the same time, he cannot do anything to stop us without jeopardising himself and his family. It remains a delicate stalemate situation for both parties…but one that may hopefully turnaround in my favour on Friday morning at two 'o' clock."
Grisham remembered suddenly and nodded in agreement with the grinning colonel. But a few doubts had crept into his mind that he hadn't been able to shake.
"Williams may have taken the bait," said the captain, "but he's not stupid enough to go after prize fish alone."
"What real choice does he have?" laughed the colonel. "He is still isolated from his own, very busy men. There is no one else he can trust. And thanks to Don Vega, who was good enough to let slip that such a meeting will take place to the sergeant, Williams will know that Ramiro's claims are as good as corroborated."
Montoya then laughed again, "What a pity Ramiro was so confused. Couldn't remember exactly what week the Dons were gathering."
"And now he's too dead to remember anything," sniggered Grisham. "Ah, these would-be escapees never get the message, do they?"
"And with the good Don and his family leaving their hacienda for a nice getaway on Thursday night…we of course have to be ever alert for possible break-ins that may occur."
"Whoa, whoa," came in Grisham, putting his hand up asking his superior to explain. "Are you sure it's a good idea framing the Golden Boy and then killing him? Don't think the Spanish Court are gonna take that seriously."
"Whoever said anything about framing him?" asked the governor as he poured himself some brandy into a shot glass. "That would make me, the whole Spanish army and the Royal Court look bad and laughable, with such a symbol of hope turning out to be just as corrupt as the rest of the world."
"So?"
"Consider yourself lucky that I'm starting to feel in a positive, tolerant mood, Grisham," advised Montoya as he handed his captain a glass of liquor. "Williams is a symbol of hope that I have given to Santa Helena. And I will generously increase the prestige of that gift…by making him into a martyr. He dies at the hands of bandits trying to defend a Don's home. The bandits die resisting arrest and therefore cannot dare to speak against a colonel's word, Vega speaks highly of Williams, me and the army after all our work, the people continue to support and trust us, and the Royal Court are satisfied with the investigation into his great sacrifice. No questions asked, I remain safe."
Grisham snorted an impressed laugh, and raised his glass, suggesting, "To the memory of Sergeant Lionel Williams?"
"To a true Golden Boy," nodded Montoya evilly, as they toasted each other and drank. After they'd finished, Montoya ordered Grisham to get word to Benito and make sure all the final preparations were in place. They then both left the room, none the wiser to a silent Queen who had been eavesdropping outside the window on the balcony.
Three nights later, all was peaceful in Santa Helena, which the population was certainly appreciating. In this latest quiet time, it was just guards patrolling, being on the lookout for thieves or any other sign of trouble.
Sergeant Williams would've much preferred to spend the evening with his family. He'd been promised that he would have tonight off after working the last few evening patrols. He'd come home early in the morning, to only five hours sleep before being called back into daily duty, then straight on into the nightshift. Montoya had changed his mind about relieving him this night, and the next two days for recuperation. Doubtless as another attempt to break him, by keeping him away from Maria and Theresa and working him beyond the point of exhaustion.
Compared to Napoleon, this is a walk in the park, Montoya, thought Williams, as he walked down the corridors on his own. Still…I would like to be home tonight. And if I'm doing morning again tomorrow, I'm not gonna have much time to rest before Benito makes his move.
The colonel's doing a very good job of isolating me from my comrades. Haven't seen any of them since my fight with Grisham. All either on errands out of town or preoccupied with strategic meetings…no one else to trust but me to stop a bandit and his army.
Still, with all the other Dons talking about this meeting, Vega's guards on standby, should be able to end Benito once and for all. The Dons may not be expecting bandits to interrupt their party, but the bandits won't be expecting me to turn the tide.
Arthur Wellesley would be proud to see I haven't changed.
Williams then sighed as his patrolling took him outside.
Would prefer not to fight THIS war on my own, though. Not used to it.
Williams had just passed the liquor stores when he heard the sound of a bottle smashing inside. He stopped and sharply turned his head to the entrance. Trying the latch, Lionel immediately discovered that the door was still locked shut. The sergeant slowly drew his pistol and took out the set of keys he'd been trusted with. He slowly unlocked the door and cautiously entered the stores, staying alert for the first sign of trouble.
Everything had been cleaned up and repaired after Williams' foiling Ramiro's raid, yet there was still a stench of spilt booze and great stains all over the ground. Nothing new here, except for a smashed bottle of wine on the floor, right in the middle of the room. The sergeant looked from side-to-side, then over his shoulder. A lantern remained lit and glowing in the far corner of the room. Whoever had done this was obviously still here…and being very quiet until the time was right.
Williams turned back to the remains of the bottle, to look at the label. He knelt down to examine the shards of glass and carefully picked up the large fragment with the sticker still attached.
Rioja, 1778. Montoya's favourite vintage. His last bottle. Irreplaceable.
The door then slammed shut suddenly, making the sergeant raise his pistol in the right direction.
No wind, realised Williams. Doubtful it's a trap, more of a distraction to…
The sergeant then shot up to his feet, his reflexes as sharp as ever. He span round to raise his gun behind him.
The Queen of Swords was leaning against the barrels, arms folded and smiling at the soldier.
"Good evening, sergeant," she waved. Williams' eyes just narrowed at her, his arm remained steady and his trigger finger remained poised.
"You've got an accomplice," realised Lionel. "No way you could have closed that door by yourself from there, or without revealing yourself sooner. That's impossible."
"I do so enjoy hearing your educated guesses."
"I could either shoot you in the head right now…" declared the sergeant icily, "or call for more guards to bring you in."
"Or you could fight me yourself again," shrugged the Queen thoughtfully, before her witty demeanour turned into something much more serious. "But I don't think my death or capture is what you're really after."
"Oh?"
"You could've stopped me when I was rescuing Lucia Garcia but you didn't," noted the vigilante. "I thank you for that."
Williams didn't betray any emotion. He just kept his weapon on her. Tessa's smile had long fallen, to be replaced by a look of uncertainty and tiredness. She felt sure that deep down, those were the same emotions that the sergeant was experiencing right now.
"What do you want?" asked Williams, finally choosing to break the silence.
"I wanted to piss Montoya off," she explained simply. "Breaking his favourite drink seemed like a good idea. Doubly so because it also seemed like a good way to get your attention. That's the real reason why I orchestrated this little private get together."
Williams refused to lower his weapon. The Queen of Swords then sighed in frustration, imploring, "I want to stop playing games, Williams. I want justice and I want the people to be happy and safe. I would've thought you'd known that by now. Surprised to hear you've become quite the fan."
The sergeant then sighed also, lowered his pistol and put it back in his holster. He then walked over to the barrels opposite the row the Queen was leaning against, and raised his forearm to rest against them.
"The people think you're just about the best thing that's ever happened to Santa Helena," remarked Williams, his back turned on the vigilante. "The aristocracy accepts you. My fellows in the army fear and hate you, Grisham thinks you're the biggest pain in the ass imaginable. And Montoya…thinks you're the real scourge of these lands, bringing nothing but pain and suffering to everyone you come into contact with."
"So what do you think?"
"I think…" spat Williams angrily, swinging round to face the indifferent Queen, "that the son of a bitch is lying!" He paused before adding, "And he's very good at it."
The corners of the masked Tessa's lips crept upwards.
"Sensible thinking. Again."
"I may know what you really are, but that doesn't mean I should trust you," warned the sergeant. "I've encountered vigilantes before. Several back in Spain when I was trying to liberate it. And none of them cared about all the innocent people that were in harm's way. As they tried to topple the French power."
"I could say the same thing about your kind," rebutted the Queen, her face becoming just as cold. "In my experience, the men who claim to be protecting and serving the people, get much more satisfaction over enslaving them. Or murdering them. Or ruining them. Like the fascist pigs that they are. Just like Napoleon."
"I'm not like these corrupt soldiers."
"And I'm not like bandits who also hide behind masks."
Yet another uneasy silence fell over the two of them. Both wanting to trust, yet neither truly willing to concede. Eventually, Williams groaned and came out with, "Touché. Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"I know of the meeting the Dons are holding," revealed the Queen. "And you need to know it's a trap."
"Why would Vega lie? He said he was meeting with the Dons right in front of me and Montoya."
"It's not taking place at the time Ramiro told you. He and Benito were in on the whole thing with Montoya and Grisham. Why do you think Ramiro died so suddenly after his apprehension?"
Williams had suspected his death to be foul play. He knew Ramiro would never settle for life imprisonment but Grisham's fast shooting of the bandit meant that he could never squeal anything else.
Raising an eyebrow at the Queen, he replied, "So what kind of set-up am I about to fall into, then?"
"Does this mean that you're deciding to trust me?"
Lionel paused again, considering. Needless to say, it was a trait of his that was really starting to irritate Tessa. Eventually, he came out with, "After everything I've seen, everything I've learnt so far…the only choice I have…is to trust you."
"That's good enough for me."
"Now…are you willing to return that trust?"
It was the Queen's turn now to once again take everything she'd learnt into account. Everything Marta had told her, her own advice to Lucia and the good the sergeant had done.
"Yes, I am," she spoke truthfully.
"Alright," nodded Lionel, folding his own arms and leaning against the barrels opposite the Avenging Angel. "Where do we start?"
Friday morning at two 'o' clock, the hacienda of Don Vega. All was quiet and still in the night. Williams made sure to note that upon his arrival. He hadn't been followed, he'd ridden fast and stealthily enough. Montoya had allowed him the whole weekend off to fully recuperate from his day and night patrols, so - hypothetically speaking - the colonel had no reason to suspect Lionel to go wandering off to apprehend a circle of notorious bandits all by himself. Especially when he was 'too tired' to do so.
But as Williams had ventured deeper onto the Don's home ground, he soon discovered the signs of life. Torchlights were burning nicely, candlelight was flickering in some of the rooms and corridors, and the servants and Vega's private guards were indeed on patrol. The greatest source of light was indeed coming from the courtyard, accompanied by the sounds of men's voices. Many of them, in serious discussion.
Just like Ramiro said, thought the golden sergeant.
He checked the stables to see several not belonging to Vega, indicating that they were indeed 'guests'. Lionel secretly tied his outside the hacienda's rear entrance as a back-up getaway plan, then made his way inside, carefully and quietly traversing through bushes, patios and hallways, making sure to avoid the guards and servants along the way.
Lionel wasn't quite good enough. He'd failed to spot the eagle eyes of Benito's right-hand man Primo, disguised as a servant.
The sergeant's plan had been to quietly get to the courtyard, find Benito and wait for him to make his move against the Dons. The bandit was far cleverer than Ramiro. It didn't matter if Vega had guards or the Dons themselves were carrying weapons. Benito doubtless knew all the best positions of the Hacienda to effectively pin down hostages under fire, because of information from his expert spies. And he also had enough manpower and dynamite to make everyone surrender. He was certainly crazy enough to go through with such a scheme.
When Benito made his move, Lionel would be there, his pistol to the bandit's head, coercing all the others to surrender. At the end of the day, Benito was a coward like his brother. The only difference was that he didn't show it anywhere near as much as Ramiro had done. And only when the odds were out of his favour did Benito wet himself.
But even if he didn't surrender immediately, it would encourage the Dons and their guards to make their move and turn the tide.
That was the plan, anyway.
Soon enough, Lionel had made it to the Don's courtyard. To hear the sounds of discussion…laughter, and drinking. Not at all the kind of scenario you'd expect from a meeting of aristocrats discussing removal of Montoya and Williams.
Confused, he ventured closer through the bushes, trying not to make a sound and get a proper look.
He didn't see any Dons. He saw Benito and his men helping themselves to Vega's food and wine, enjoying every bit of it.
The Queen was right, seethed Williams, angrily. Damn it.
Suddenly, Primo's handgun was now pressed hard against the side of the soldier's head.
"Come on in, sergeant. Join the party."
Moments later, Williams was restrained by two burly criminals and standing before the grinning Benito, and his men who had their pistols aimed for his head.
"Gentlemen…" declared the bandits' leader proudly, raising his glass of wine, "a toast! To the honourable Sergeant Lionel Williams!"
They all laughed and raised their drinks, cheering mockingly at the soldier. Benito then threw his wine at the Sergeant's face, laughing at him even more.
"God, you're even more stupid than my useless older brother was, aren't you?" smirked the bandit. "You believed everything he said. Not only that, but you thought you could take us all down by yourself."
Williams, his indifferent face still dripping with Vega's stolen wine, now began to grin and chuckle.
"Yeah, it is funny, isn't it?" nodded Benito condescendingly. "Now knowing Montoya set you up to be the biggest fall guy imaginable."
"On the contrary, Benito," dismissed Williams, shaking his head and still grinning. "That isn't funny. But I'll tell you the two things that are absolutely hilarious."
The arrogant Benito cocked his head with intrigue, implying the sergeant to tell for the sake of last words.
"You think I'm honourable," laughed Lionel, highly amused by the concept. His reaction confused the bandit, who let the Golden Sergeant continue.
"I am not or have ever been 'honourable'. Because after fighting motherless bastards like you, after watching rich, powerful dictators oppress the innocent, and seeing arrogant fools blur the line between right and wrong…do you know what I learned right at the start? There's no such thing as 'honour'."
The circle of criminals all laughed over that. Benito nodded his head in impressed agreement.
"How very true, sergeant. But tell me…before I grow bored and have my boys riddle you with bullets. What's the second thing that's so funny?"
Williams cackled, slightly unnerving several of the bandits. Benito's eyes then narrowed in concern, suspecting something.
Settling down, Lionel explained, "I'm not the one who's more stupid than that useless older Ramiro. It's you."
Benito scoffed and then ordered, "Okay, boys! Take aim and make it look good. Our promise to Montoya is as good as gold, remember?"
The bandits all readied to fire. But before any of them could pull their triggers, two small stone statues on the balcony above the courtyard fell from their place and landed hard on top of two of the bandits below, smashing into pieces painfully and making them fall to the ground with bleeding, concussed heads.
"Sorry, Don Vega," winced the Queen regretfully. "I'll pay for the statues, I promise."
Everyone immediately turned to look up at the vigilante in shock and despair. The bandits' attention and pistols no longer focused on Williams, the sergeant elbowed one of his captors hard in the stomach, elbowed the other in the face and then put them down with hard fists.
"Kill them both!" yelled Benito, turning back to Williams to fire his weapon. The sergeant was too quick and ripped it out of his hand to point it at the bandit, turning the tables on him.
"Did you really think your right-hand bootlicker could capture me unless I let him, Benito?"
Meanwhile, the Queen had brought out a huge net and dropped it over the balcony, right on top of the bandits, trapping a large number of them and rendering them helpless. The surprise had confused the remainder, sending them deeper into bewilderment. The Queen gave a battle cry as she corkscrew-somersaulted from the balcony and into the courtyard below. She drew her whip, twirled it round her head, before cracking it to make the criminals back away. The vigilante then swung wildly, the end of the whip lashing out at the surrounding bandits' hands, making them cry out in pain and relinquish their weapons.
The Avenging Angel recoiled her whip, wrapping it back round her body. Next, she quickly drew her sword and proceeded to fend off the swarm of bandits that decided to rush her. They came at her, and in typical form, she ducked and weaved to evade the attacks, blocking when necessary and twisting her blade at the right angles to fight off and quickly disarm the killers, one after the next.
Benito had remained silent, still and naturally concerned as the Queen continued to take his men apart. And Williams still had the pistol trained on him.
"Like Ramiro, you think too much of yourself," snorted the sergeant.
"Perhaps," admitted Benito, "but I always had good reason."
Primo came out of nowhere with his sword to try and run through Williams. The sergeant quickly turned and pulled the trigger, shooting Benito's second right in the chest. The bandit fell to the ground, cold and dead. Taking advantage of the distraction, Benito drew his own sword and attempted to behead Lionel. The soldier rolled to avoid and rose with his own blade unsheathed. They locked swords and then backed away, before renewing their offensives.
Williams had much more experience and skill. But Benito was young, fast, enthusiastic and just as clever a fighter as he was a criminal. He lulled Williams into a false sense of security, allowing the sergeant to use his various attack patterns and triangles to pressure him into surrendering. Making him think the bandit was helpless.
Then he ran right for the sergeant into the path of his sword. Lionel lunged and Benito dived gracefully and speedily right underneath his legs. The bandit came out behind the soldier and was now in a position to slice him in the back. Lionel's skill came into play though and he was able to twist his arm back, blocking the strike with his weapon. Benito then tripped the sergeant with his legs. Lionel fell and quickly rolled onto his back to block Benito's sword from being imbedded in his throat.
Benito grinned slyly at the struggling Williams and quickly pulled his weapon back to inflict a death strike on the sergeant's face. But now it was Williams' turn to surprise. He quickly swung out and the tip of his blade slashed with fast precision on the bandit's ankle. Benito screamed in agony and dropped his sword, immediately clutching his ankle, which began to bleed profusely. He hopped for a second before dropping to the ground, howling over his severed tendon.
"I'm not Achilles, Williams!" he screamed defiantly.
"True," conceded the Sergeant, getting to his feet and smiling over his fallen foe. "He was mostly invulnerable. There's nothing invulnerable about you whatsoever."
He then casually raised his fist backwards to knockout the man who tried to attack him from behind. Then he turned to see the smiling Queen, who had long taken care of Benito's men.
"Not bad, sergeant," remarked the vigilante with modest approval.
"Likewise, kid," admitted Williams. This time, Tessa didn't react negatively to the old man calling her a kid. Instead, she felt oddly like attributing it to a special nickname. Before she could say anything else…or before Williams could betray a warm smile, several more bandits, disguised as either Vega's servants or guards, stormed the courtyard, soon surrounding the Queen of Swords and Lionel Williams.
Both vigilante and soldier had their swords drawn, and were now back-to-back, ready to face the next challenge. Ten more bandits to take down. As long as they kept their focus, the two knew they'd be able to handle them easily.
"KILL THEM!" screamed Benito, still rolling on the ground in agony.
"You been in this situation before?" asked a curious Queen.
"Too many times," confirmed Lionel. "Ladies first!"
"Spoken like a true gentleman!"
One bandit lunged forward to impale the sergeant. He ducked and the vigilante swung round, smacking the criminal's weapon out his grasp with her own sword. The surprised thug backed away, only to be floored by the rising sergeant, hitting him hard in the jaw with the pommel of his sword. Her turn to duck, the Queen dropped to her knees to avoid a swing for her head. Williams span round with power and skill to smack the next bandit's sword out of his hands. Leaving him vulnerable to a hard uppercut from the Queen as she shot to her feet.
Taking her dagger out of her boot, the Avenging Angel fought off two more bandits at once, realising that there was no time for anything fancy. Just put them down quickly before moving onto the next one, thought a focused Tessa.
That's it, thought Lionel, as he fought off two very enthusiastic killers. Let them think you haven't a chance. Let them back you into the next two thugs about to ambush you, thinking you can't see them…
Now!
Williams, timing it just right, parried his two adversaries' swords with a concentrated upwards swing. The move surprised them and they struggled to regain their composure. Williams felt the two behind him about to lunge and he quickly turned to parry the swords away from him, using their own momentum against them to propel the enemy blades into the stomachs of their comrades.
Shock overwhelmed the killers over their blunder, leaving the sergeant free to slash them both across the stomachs, mortally wounding them. The two murderers sagged and slumped to the floor, nursing their agonising injuries for the seconds they had left.
Eight had been downed, and there were only two more to go. Lionel turned to see the Queen smiling in satisfaction over the last of Benito's gang which she had felled most expertly.
The vigilante looked over to her reluctant ally, who was secretly impressed and grateful for her help. The Queen looked as though she might approve of Williams' efforts, but any possibility of that happening…became lost to the reality of the current situation.
"Get down!" screamed the Avenging Angel, quickly flipping her dagger to wield it by the blade. With her superb reflexes, the masked Tessa then raised her hand and just as quickly threw the knife over the ducking sergeant and right into the heart of Benito. The bandits' notorious leader fell instantly to the floor, gurgled blood for a few seconds and then finally died.
Williams looked behind him to see that the gang's leader had somehow managed to get back up to one foot, using a chair and the courtyard table for help. His screams and pathetic attempts to stand had gone unnoticed due to all the fighting. Williams then noticed that Benito had managed to get a spare pistol off one of his fallen men to try and kill the Golden Sergeant.
Williams then looked back to the Queen, who was sighing painfully over what she'd done.
Lionel just narrowed his eyes at her and asked, "Do you honestly think he would've cried if he'd killed you?"
The Queen of Swords looked up to the sergeant, immediately overwhelmed with anger and confusion over his remark.
"What do you mean by that, Williams?" she demanded.
"I only believe in shedding tears for those who deserve them," explained the Sergeant as he went to Benito's body and knelt down to remove the dagger from his chest. He then wiped the blood off with the dead bandit's coat and then walked back to the dagger's owner.
"Like Esperanza Garcia," furthered Williams, exhaling his guilt and shame. The sergeant held the knife out for the vigilante to take back and said, "Compassion is important. It's what separates us from filth like him and Montoya. But at the end of the day…is it really worth despairing over? Especially when you saved my life?"
The Queen stared at Williams long and hard before taking her dagger back and placing it back in her boot. She then looked at the sergeant again, now comparing him to Doctor Helm, and wondering if Williams was as good as he was painted.
"Not honourable at all, huh?" she asked over his statement to Benito earlier.
"Not in the least. Just try and do the right thing…and don't get killed doing it. That's my motto."
"How very blunt…'Golden Boy'."
"Maybe. But I've found it works much better than obsessing over 'honour'."
The Queen, momentarily taken aback, had no idea how to reply. Williams' comment made her think of Antonio and Doctor Helm, and her own beliefs in honour.
"All of Vega's servants and guards are still alive, aren't they?" asked Lionel.
"Unconscious, but safe."
"All's well that ends well, then."
"Not quite," remarked the masked Tessa. "The vultures…sorry, the cavalry's here."
She nodded towards outside. Lionel looked in the direction she'd pointed, realising that Montoya would've been waiting from a safe distance, before moving in to clean up the mess left over and file the 'official' report of what happened in Don Vega's home. The sergeant then turned back to face the Queen of Swords…
Only to see that she'd now gone.
And left her calling card behind.
He picked it up off the ground, once again sighing over everything it meant. The sound of footsteps storming into the courtyard snapped Williams to attention. He turned to see a squad of soldiers weapons aimed at the fallen bandits still conscious and at him. Montoya and Grisham then walked into the courtyard to confront the sergeant.
"Will somebody let us out of this net?" screamed one of the struggling bandits, still kicking his fellows.
"Oh, shut up!" barked Williams, before turning to salute his superiors.
"Guns at the bandits, you idiots!" barked the captain, making the soldiers turn their weapons away from the sergeant.
"Well, sergeant…" observed the surprised colonel, hiding his disappointment over Lionel's survival very well. "You are somewhat of a hypocrite it would seem."
"I do not understand, Colonel Montoya."
"After your insistent requests for a weekend free from duty after all your hard work, I find you missing in the night, trespassing on a Don's home no less, in the midst of what is apparently bringing an end to the bandit Benito."
"Before I explain, sir…may I ask how you knew I was missing?"
"Your wife was really concerned, Williams," noted Montoya, feigning sympathy and not allowing himself to be caught out so easily. "She was desperate for you to come home safe. We were only too happy to oblige for such a remarkable woman."
Montoya's blatant lie and subtle denial of his scheme, meant that Lionel was free to respond with a lie of his own to ensure his safety. He did so by explaining, "I'd merely gone out for some fresh air when Benito's thugs snatched me from the street to bring me here. He wanted to know if Ramiro had said anything when I'd captured him."
"And?"
"Just petty sibling rivalry. Benito was planning to burn down the Don's home and frame me for it, taking all the riches and valuables. However, as you can clearly see, I was able to put a stop to his mischief, with the aid of some of the guards who'd also been captured."
"Yes…" agreed Montoya, considering Williams now as a worthy adversary, "I can clearly see that you are most capable. No matter how dire the situation is."
The colonel looked to see that Benito was now conveniently dead, which was another positive boon for the governor. Not only could the bandit now say nothing incriminating, but his demise would win him more favour with the Dons.
"I will help gather what's left of Benito's men at once," nodded Williams.
"Very well, sergeant. Is there anything else I need to know?"
Lionel paused for a moment, thinking the best response he could give. He then raised the Queen of Swords tarot card in front of the Colonel, whose face immediately fell into trademark, seething frustration. Grisham's eyebrows raised in 'uh-oh' fashion.
"I think she sends her regards," explained Williams, dropping the card into Montoya's hand as he left to join the other soldiers. "All right, men! Let's get these people tied up and back to town!"
The boiling colonel screwed up the card in his clenched hand. Grisham sighed, gulped and then smiled sheepishly at Montoya, "Oh, well…at least Don Vega will be happy we saved his home, got yet another big, bad bandit off the streets, and even though Williams is still breathing…he'll give us even more good press as time goes on. Business side of things, as you said."
Montoya just froze on the spot, unblinking. Without even looking at his captain, he slowly warned him, "Never, ever, try to cheer me up again, Grisham."
The following night, Williams was at home, having enjoyed a great evening with his wife and daughter. The fire was roaring with a comforting aura, Maria had prepared a hearty meal of chicken drumsticks, mashed potatoes, peas and gravy for dinner, Theresa had been saying how much of a good day she'd had at school and was asking if her new best friend could come play over sometime. Lionel had written a few more pages in his journal and was now sitting down with his daughter in front of a smiling Maria.
"So the Queen of Swords saved you, Daddy?"
"Yes, she did, sweetheart," nodded Williams. "Fought off thirty men left and right, cracking her mighty whip, swinging her beautiful swords, punching and kicking…"
Theresa had always enjoyed listening to her father's war stories, which Maria had originally tried to discourage. Theresa had picked up a love for adventure from her mother, who although still loved the thrill of it, had long realised the consequences and the dangers. Needless to say, Maria had tried to steer Theresa clear from influences that could be damaging, so as not to make the same mistake that she had made with herself.
But Theresa was clearly in charge of her own destiny and loved reading and hearing of adventure. Leaving Maria no choice but to relent. The times when Theresa's father finally came home after long absences, he made it up to her by telling her of his exploits. She'd always been hooked word-for-word. And after reading about the Queen back in Spain, Theresa's dream had come true.
Her daddy and her hero…side-by-side.
After Lionel had finished telling his 'bedtime story', Theresa asked excitedly, "Are you and the Queen best friends now, Daddy?"
The sergeant became very uncertain over that question. His mouth was open, but he was struggling to find the words. He looked to Maria, who raised an intrigued eyebrow. Looking back to Theresa, Williams was about to give a very feeble answer when the situation suddenly changed completely.
"Are we best friends now, sergeant?" asked the Queen, standing by the doorway that led into the kitchen, with her hands on her hips. The whole Williams family - completely shocked - turned to see the vigilante now smiling before them.
"Queen!" gasped Theresa with excitement. The vigilante smiled warmly and waved back at the six-year-old.
"Come on, Theresa," came in Maria, much less impressed as she walked over to put an arm round her child. "It's past your bedtime. And you've got school in the morning."
"But, Mommy, I want to talk to the Queen!"
Maria gently silenced Theresa's protests and led her to her bedroom. After they'd left, the Avenging Angel's eyes glanced towards the sergeant who got up out of his chair and into her face.
"Are you gonna arrest me for trespassing?" joked the Queen.
"Out the back," ordered Williams intently. "Now."
Once they'd stepped outside, Williams continued to glare at the Queen, who still stood with her hands on hips. Typical uneasy silence fell over them both. No soldiers or spies were around, meaning that the two allies were safe to talk.
"You have a great family, Williams," said the masked Tessa softly. "I would never mean them any harm."
"I don't care," dismissed Lionel just as quietly. "I'm going to say this to you one-time-only, so listen carefully. Our relationship is nothing like the one you have with your love life."
"My 'love life'?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Stop pretending. It's obvious to everyone that you and the surgeon are smitten."
The Queen's eyes narrowed angrily at the sergeant who furthered, "You saved my life and I thank you for that. And we may be allies now but we are not friends. You do not come here. Ever. Our relationship is strictly business. Are we crystal?"
"So it's okay for you to stick your nose in my private life…but not so when it's the other way round?" asked the vigilante simply. "Can you really have my trust, sergeant…whilst being a hypocrite?"
Williams paused and then sighed quietly. Nodding, he conceded, "Alright. I was being very hypocritical. And maybe, just maybe…I am an…honourable man. Actions do speak louder than words, don't they?"
"Always. Guess that's why you're not really as golden as you're painted."
Now it was Lionel's turn to narrow his eyes.
"Let me guess…you came here to tell me that you're not going anywhere?"
"Absolutely."
"And neither am I," vowed the sergeant, with equal resolve. "So it makes sense for us both to be at Montoya's throat instead of each other's. But just so you know…I'm still going to be fighting for a Santa Helena without corruption and the Queen of Swords."
"Me too," admitted the Queen, much to Williams' surprise. She turned to go, but the sergeant told her, "Wait."
She stopped to hear what he had to say. Lionel held up the tarot card she'd given him the day they'd met.
"You forgot this."
"Keep it. You never know when you'll need it again."
And she left without saying anything else. Williams looked back at the tarot card, once again lost in thought and aftermath. He sighed at the stars then made his way back inside to the comfort of his house.