Ignacio's Duel

Ignacio stirred, and woke next to his wife in their small bed, several hours before dawn. He spent a few moments watching her sleep, pleased at her regular deep breathing. Her health had come a long way since those weeks in Monterey, and he could barely remember the terrible fear that he would lose her. He had felt it constantly back then.

Ignacio reached out and touched a strand of her long, luxurious hair, soft and silky again after so many weeks of being brittle and dry. He stroked her soft cheek and smiled at the way she responded to his touch, by whispering his name in her sleep. He carefully shifted his pillow to replace his warm body, where he had been lying, and draped her arm across it, so that she didn't get too disturbed by his absence. He did not want to wake her so early.

He made his way to the wardrobe to grab a shirt to shrug on, his bare chest missing the warmth of his wife's embrace. He shivered at the cold feel of the cotton around his body, as he buttoned the garment slowly, watching his wife. She was a light sleeper usually, and he watched for tell-tale signs that she was waking. Hopefully he would be long gone before she did wake.

Ignacio knew she disapproved of what he was planning to do. She loved the concept of justice and the idea that good men needed to be hard and brutal did not sit well with her. Ignacio sighed. He had to do what he had to do. It was the only way he could think of to deal with the anger that rose up in him every time he remembered the horrible words. The hate towards that oaf was almost all consuming.

"Ignacio," she whispered. He saw that she was awake, and she was already struggling with the covers he had tucked around her. "Please, Ignacio. My love, don't do this," she whispered.

He crossed over to her, and held her in his arms gently. He kissed her forehead absentmindedly, and she reached her arms around him, and kissed his mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and she was already unbuttoning his shirt. Her lips kissed a trail across his shoulders, and her fingers stroked him softly over his chest, and he closed his eyes to savour her touch for a moment, before taking charge of her hands.

Their eyes met and she broke the eye contact first. "I don't want you to do this, Ignacio. Stay with me," she whispered. "Why refuse me? I love you, let me kiss you…" He held her hands firmly for a few extra moments, and the tenderness in her eyes slowly dimmed. "I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to kill that man. Can't you understand?"

He stared into her serious eyes and almost understood. "I'm just not that important…" The words startled him, and they were definitely the worst thing she could have said. He stood up from where he had sunk down to her level, and crossed the room to get some space between them. He hurriedly buttoned up his shirt again, shaking his head slowly as he struggled to think again. His body had almost succumbed to her touch, and it wasn't what he had planned for the morning at all.

"No. I do not understand, Gushing Stream," he said with annoyance. "I cannot understand why you should not be important enough to defend. Your honour and mine are connected now. You are important for yourself, but now you are also important because you are my wife. I love you. Why shouldn't I deal with ruffians who misuse you?"

"They didn't hurt me, Ignacio. I don't even know what they said, no one will tell me. I didn't hear them, they didn't shoot at me, they didn't throw a knife at me," Gushing Stream said. "Maybe I don't understand either."

"It feels like they threw a knife at me," Ignacio said as he turned away. "It hurts to hear my wife referred to like that. You may be used to it, Gushing Stream. I will never be used to it."

She sighed, and sat down against the pillows. "Please," she whispered.

"I don't understand. You have seen the brutality of men; surely you want some revenge, some protection. Let me do this for you," Ignacio said, looking at her again. "I want to make sure you are safe."

"I will never be safe, Ignacio. Only in this room, I can be safe. I want the world to change – I will make it safe around me. Please, Ignacio. I was forced to live with violent men. I need to be away from it, Ignacio. Violence and anger make me sick. I can't live in fear anymore," she whispered. "Please don't make me afraid."

"You will never be afraid, my love. I will make sure people treat you with respect," Ignacio said. He wondered what she was talking about. He wasn't really following the conversation well. His mind was already focusing on the duel he would have to face soon.

"You don't have to go out there, Ignacio. You could stay with me."

Ignacio stared at her in disbelief. He had issued the challenge. To back out now would declare to the world that he was a coward, and he would never do that.

"I have to do what I have to do, Gushing Stream. Please stay in the room, whatever happens."

"If I go outside you will not be able to do it?"

"If you go outside I may worry about you, and be shot dead," he said bluntly. She made a soft noise as if he had slapped her. "Excuse me, I need to go."

Stepping out of the room, he felt more in control of himself emotionally, and that was important. He needed a clear head with what he was about to do. He didn't want to be shot at all, but he also saw the draw backs of actually killing Don Raphael. He would be reprimanded and possibly court martialled if he did kill him. He may have to even flee the country, and his wife was heavily pregnant now. High stress and rapid travel was no good for any woman, let alone a fragile pregnant one.

Yet he had to actually hit the man. He had to pay for the disrespect with some pain. If he clipped his shoulder, it would be alright. He would have to have his aim perfect; otherwise the shot could result in more serious injury. Perhaps the leg would be more risk free? If he hit an artery it would be very bad. He sat at his desk and contemplated his options. If he aimed for the shoulder, he risked hitting the head, or the chest. If he aimed for the leg, there was less risk of a fatal injury. The leg would do, then. He would aim low and to the side. He trusted his own ability to be able to achieve such a shot, but he would have to be precise.

Zzzz

Daylight peeked over the horizon as he moved out into the plaza. No one was awake at that time of day. The sergeant acted as his second, and Don Raphael's brother acted as his. They set about the duel in the European fashion, standing back to back, taking the ten steps forward, turning and firing.

The shot fired from Ignacio's pistol went exactly where he had planned. The man cried out and crumpled to the ground. Raphael's shot had gone wide, either on purpose or by accident, Ignacio couldn't tell. He stood and watched the others rush to the Raphael's side, and someone sent for the doctor. He stood still, and lowered his spent pistol.

"Alcalde?" Sergeant Mendoza said softly, and made Ignacio's mind work again. Somehow he had gone into shock, and he shook himself out of it. "Some coffee, perhaps?"

"In my office, Sergeant," Ignacio said, automatically heading back to his home. "Get some for my wife as well. I think we will have the morning off. I think that would work well," he added. "Yes, I think it will."