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 8: End of the Line
"Colonel, this is an outrage!" protested Don Hidalgo, with several members of the aristocracy and community behind him. "You've cordoned off the entire town without notice! No deliveries can get through, and we've been stripped of our civil rights! What reason do you have to pen us all in like pigs?"
Perhaps for the obvious reason that you are the biggest pig of them all, Hidalgo, thought Montoya to himself, frustrated with the public backlash over the lockdown. This annoying outcry from powerful Dons, merchants and people was a hindrance he could do without. Having to deal with protests had stopped him from joining in the manhunt himself. Without his leadership, Montoya arrogantly believed the Queen and the Doctor would have a chance to escape capture.
As opposed to no chance at all.
"Gaspar, my friends, please!" calmed the governor, raising his hands defensively at the mob that had assembled right outside the steps to his office. "Your concerns are all duly noted, I assure you! As you've rightly suspected, an urgent crisis has arisen that has disturbed the very sanctity and safety of our community! Hence the reason for this security measure."
"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Queen of Swords by any chance, would it, Colonel?"
Vega, I swear I will kill you one day! thought Montoya privately. Turning to his rival, he answered, "All you need to know is that dangerous fugitives are on the loose! We cannot let them escape!"
"I'm sorry, Montoya, but I don't think that's good enough," replied the Don vehemently. "Your people have a right to know exactly what is going on. These rumours about the Queen and Doctor Helm need to be addressed immediately to justify your actions!"
"I agree with Vega, Colonel!" nodded Gaspar resolutely. "Do you confirm or deny these stories?"
"I am at no liberty to disclose any further information!" snapped Montoya, almost too defensively. "The emergency will be resolved swiftly, and the lockdown shall be lifted as soon as the crisis is over! Captain Grisham and Sergeant Williams are dealing with the matter as we speak."
You had both better not disappoint me, Montoya reflected. Especially you, Williams. After wasting time coddling that wandering blind cripple and then having the nerve to remind me to improve security on the fort grounds.
"I will personally hold you to your promise, Colonel," pointed Vega. "All this had better be for the sake of the community and not one of your perverted foxhunts! We expect traffic and road access to be resumed sooner, not later."
"The Dons speak for the community's interest," declared Gaspar. "Either this preposterous lockdown situation is resolved in six hours, or you can expect us to take action."
"You have nothing to worry about at all, my friends," smiled Montoya sweetly, refusing to let this threat sour the golden advantage he had. He turned and gestured towards the sight of Williams leading his men on horseback to apprehend the Queen.
"Nothing to worry about…at all."
Williams cast his gaze towards Montoya, whose sinister grin spread from ear-to-ear.
Hope you can hold onto that grin when you see what happens NEXT, you son of a…hoped the Golden Boy as he continued to lead his men out of the square. The crowd that had confronted Montoya all turned to see the cavalry go round the corner. Some of them cheered for Williams as he passed. When he and his men were out of sight though…
"IT'S THE QUEEN!"
The cavalry halted, shots fired and - to Montoya's shock - the Queen of Swords appeared on the rooftops adjacent to the church. Right on cue, the townsfolk roared their approval as the Avenging Angel engaged the soldiers that rushed her on the rooftop.
Montoya's wide eyes stared at her, absolutely bewildered.
How? She and Helm escaped into the country with that horse cart, I know it! It can't be her! And yet…the way she's fighting. Still so skilled! She's constantly clutching her side where Grisham shot her! Staggering to escape! She's too faraway to judge her size and build, but the black hair, the costume! It's all the same!
But if she's still here, where the devil is Doctor Helm?
The injured Queen, like a cornered animal, thought more dangerously, fighting and dispatching soldiers left and right, knocking them out cold, kicking them off roofs, with all her loyal subjects cheering her on.
"Get after her!" yelled Montoya angrily. "Williams, where the hell are you?"
"I take it this means you confirm what we already suspected, Colonel?" asked Don Hidalgo innocently.
Montoya - realising he'd been caught out - turned to him and Vega, who just smiled at the governor. Santa Helena's people still cheered on their hero.
"Why are we not surprised?" sighed Vega, inspecting his finger nails for a moment. "Still, I think we can give points for a nice try. Six hours, Colonel Montoya."
Vega and the smiling Gaspar then looked to see the injured Queen having made it to ground level.
"Good luck," nodded Vega at her, smirking as he and Gaspar then walked off. The other protesters had either long gone or were now cheering along with the whole community. The governor put his hand to his mouth, thinking hard over this unexpected development. Meanwhile, the Queen had used a nearby shovel to knock a soldier off his horse, and had now commandeered it for herself. The colonel could see her seethe and wince from her injuries, even from this distance as she mounted and quickly rode out of town, with soldiers chasing after her.
"Colonel Montoya, Sergeant Williams has been incapacitated!" reported a corporal that had run up to him.
"How?"
"The Queen dropped a sack of grain on him from up high! It landed right on top of him, knocked him off his horse! He's unconscious, sir!"
"Then take him to the stables and revive him! Drench him in water, stick a nail in his foot, I don't care! Get the man back on his horse and get him after her! Send him out unconscious if you have to!"
"Yes, sir!"
Montoya walked backed to his office, struggling mightily to remain calm and focused.
"Not this time, my Queen. Not this time."
Tessa and Robert had fled as quickly and as carefully as possible after blowing up the horse cart. The Doctor had worked his magic on the Queen's injuries but that didn't change the irrefutable fact that she needed to rest to allow her wounds to heal properly. The horse riding wasn't helping and if she wasn't careful, she was in danger of ripping her gunshot wound open again. Her broken ribs were more secure thanks to the bandages but they still needed to be taken into consideration also.
They'd cleared Lothario Canyon and had covered nearly a mile of the trail when Robert noticed that Tessa looked evidently woozy. The Englishman made them both stop and the Spaniard looked up to him, shaking her head and tightening her grip on the reigns.
"Why are we stopping?" she gritted at him.
"You've lost a lot of blood!" he reminded urgently. "You shouldn't be…!"
"It's my fault! I brought you into this mess! Grisham's after me! I'm only slowing you down! So just…!"
"Don't you dare say that to me! Not after all this! I would die for you!"
Tessa wheezed a little and then looked back up to Robert, seeing the true resolve etched on his face, and then shook her head in regret, "I'm not asking you to."
"And I didn't ask you to save my life all those times you did," rebutted Doctor Helm calmly. "You didn't run when I told you to when Grisham had that gun to my head that one time."
Robert then exhaled emotionally, "You were right when you said when it's time for no more antagonism, no more games. We've gone through too much already. You're always right! That's why…"
The Doctor's voice trailed away as he gazed deep into the masked senorita's beautiful brown eyes. He swallowed his emotion and then nodded to the direction of the road ahead.
"Come on. We've got to move just a little bit more. We can take shelter in those rocks and rest for a bit. I doubt Grisham will have picked up our trail that quick."
"Robert…" begged Tessa wearily.
"Doctor Helm to you, Your Highness!" reminded the surgeon with conviction. "Same as it's always been! Now focus!"
He turned to the rocky refuge nearby and kicked his horse gently to move. The Queen of Swords just smiled, on the verge of laughing, as she commanded her steed to follow him.
"Doctor's orders," she joked out loud. Helm couldn't help but chuckle himself.
"You always did have a gift for making me laugh, didn't you?" he asked as they took cover behind the rocks nearby.
"Among other things," grinned the Queen as Doctor Helm helped her down from her horse.
"Yes…" nodded the Englishman, somewhat amused taking out a water bag and offering it to her, which she graciously accepted as she sat down. The Queen drank slowly, welcoming the cool, refreshing taste that soothed her dry throat. When she'd had enough to satisfy her thirst, the masked Tessa handed it back to Robert, who had knelt down to join her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked genuinely. "And don't tell me you're 'fine'."
"I'll live," she assured her. "You'll need a drink, too, I bet. Have you had anything to eat at all today?"
"Have you?"
The Queen beamed, "Marta always says to keep your strength up." Her face then dropped a little as she confessed ashamedly, "I should listen to her more."
The two would-be lovers fell silent. Tessa for her shame, Robert over the loving manner in which she spoke of her loyal servant. Tessa revealing her identity to the doctor had been shocking alone. Now it had hit him hard, that there was so much he would have to find out about her now. And the hits would doubtless keep on coming.
"You and I are going to have to have a serious talk," declared Helm.
"When this is over," promised the vigilante.
The sound of loose rocks shifting nearby put them both back on the alert. Helm slowly got up to his feet, taking a small knife he'd brought along with him.
"Wait here," he ordered, his tone demanding complete obedience. "Don't move whatever you do."
"Doctor, don't…"
"I said wait here, Queen."
Helm slowly emerged from their cover. He peeked round the rocks to see that there was no one. He knew better than to believe that. It was Grisham, it had to be. The bastard had picked up their trail and caught them up, and quicker than expected. Surprisingly better than he deserved credit for.
Helm ventured further out into the open, looking all around him, waiting for the inevitable surprise, still keeping his knife discreetly hidden and at the ready. Helm questioned himself if he knew what he was doing. It was stupidly risky exposing himself. Grisham could pick him off at any instant.
No, the Doctor shook his head, still on his guard. The sick son of a bitch will want to milk his precious moment. Got to get Tessa…I mean the Queen…I mean her out of here now…
Oh, no! Tessa! I've left her all alone…!
The sound of Grisham's pistol cocking made him turn round slowly.
The grinning jackal was here, gun raised and pointed at the Doctor's forehead.
"Hey, Doc! How's it going?"
Idiots through and through, grinned Williams as he slipped the bandanna round his face and put the black hat on.
After they'd left the town square, out of sight from Montoya and the crowd, the Golden Sergeant had told his men to 'hold back' after 'hearing something'. Confused, they'd obeyed as he went on ahead. Where he'd dismounted, made a noise and fell to the ground along with the heavy sack of grain that had 'landed' on top of him, courtesy of 'the Queen'. They'd exchanged winks from high to low, then she'd fled to play her part as he'd pretended to pass out.
And true to their nature, Montoya's idiots fall for it yet again, noted the disguised Williams as Sergeant Hernandez and his men now came into view. The trail that would take them to the Alvarado Hacienda, the place that was next on their list.
Twelve men. No problem. He evaluated to himself, preparing the dynamite.
As soldiers chased the 'injured Queen', Williams had pretended to remain unconscious as he felt two men take him to the stables to try and revive him. The moment they'd entered, Marta had smashed two water jugs over their unaware heads. Williams had then taken the moment to 'wake up' and make sure they were knocked out with uppercuts to their jaws.
Williams had then changed his clothes to a bandit outfit, which Marta had quickly brought over for him after she and Maria had made a quick visit to their house. Williams had then gone back to his horse and removed all the military gear from his steed. Meanwhile, Marta had secretly made it back to her horse and cart and together they'd flown the coop…whilst the new 'Queen' had led the remaining (preoccupied) forces out of town.
Now in the present, Williams lit the fuse, waited until Hernandez and his squad were in position…then threw the bundle of sticks high and far…
And let them do their stuff.
The explosion was wild and destructive, making the trail erupt into a huge cloud of dust, fire and earth. One that knocked several soldiers off their frightened horses and made the steeds run home in terror.
"We're under attack!" yelled Hernandez at the top of his voice. "Take cover! Scatter! Return fir…!"
The next shower of dynamite he might have avoided if he hadn't been standing wide open, barking orders like a ridiculous turkey. He saw the whole world explode before him, then the blissful dark. Williams was an expert with dynamite. The lighting, the throws had both been done with such control, meaning the Golden Sergeant was in no danger of killing anyone. Merely create enough havoc to make them run or put them to sleep.
With Hernandez down, his few remaining troops - leaderless and scared - could only cry out for help, fire guns, run for cover in the clouds of dust from one last gift of dynamite…
Before being put down for the count by the 'mysterious bandit'.
Moments later, when the dust had settled, Williams was the only one left standing. He turned round to signal to Marta that all was clear.
"GO! GO!"
The Gypsy snapped the reins, commanding the horses to fly like the wind and pull the cart like it wasn't even there. Marta nodded graciously to the disguised Lionel Williams who rode off in the opposite direction. As she made her way back home as fast as humanly possible - and undetected at that - Marta knew that she and Tessa would owe both Lionel and Maria Williams their lives.
If a miracle permitted Tessa to come home alive.
Elsewhere…
She looked over her shoulder and stopped.
The would-be Queen realised that she'd eluded the soldiers for the moment, but they'd soon catch her. She checked her black hair to make sure it was still in place, that her shawl mask was in no danger of slipping off. Then she fanned herself a little.
"God, I don't know how you do this every day!" she gasped. Fashioning herself a makeshift Queen outfit had been relatively easy, thanks to the leftover costumes she'd brought with her from Spain. For nostalgia reasons, of course. Marta had helped supply the mask. And it was a time to be thankful she'd grown up in America with three brothers who taught her the thrills and skills of a daredevil lifestyle. And that she'd been taught swordplay by Sergeant Williams.
Leaving a trail for her pursuers to take them out into the open country had been a huge risk, given the large number of patrols that were after the Queen of Swords. Then there was the fact that it had been a long time since she'd been involved in exercise this strenuous. Growing up in America and back in Spain, she'd gone horse riding every morning, practised swordplay and been involved in many a fight to test her mettle. But coming to Santa Helena had curtailed all that somewhat. If she survived today, the 'runaway Queen' realised she would desperately have to get back into practice.
Still, thanks to her and the real Queen being a similar enough-size, the impersonator had been able to pull off a convincing performance for her audience once again. Her moves had certainly won over the crowd, she'd remembered to clutch her midsection and grimace enough to convince the soldiers that she was indeed their injured prey, and that clever use of red paint (spilt here and there) was bound to convince Montoya.
The would-be vigilante (now no longer pretending to be hurt) had crossed the bridge over Provincial Canyon, had ridden past Horatio River, and was now at the lush wilderness of Cloverly Way. From here it was, about seven miles to the Alvarado Hacienda. The plan was to regroup with Marta there. The impersonator and Lionel would shake off the patrols first, create a bit of confusion to stir things up and hopefully be able to give everyone the slip long enough to leave Montoya with no choice to call off the manhunt.
Saving their friends was obviously top priority.
The impostor was now taking refuge under some grassy bushes at the bottom of the embankment where the road ran through the small forest. She wished she had more time to appreciate the beauty of this little nature spot, she wished she knew the Californian roads better. The pretender had seen much and been shown much by her friends in her time here, but she knew she needed more in order to survive this. If she had more knowledge, she could use the terrain against her enemies and…
Wait…the 'Queen of Sorts' then realised. The terrain. That's it.
She looked to the river by her side. Then the road on top of the sloping embankment…and smiled.
Several minutes later, the soldiers entered Cloverly Way. The trail of the Queen had led them here. The ravenous dogs could smell her blood miles away. Montoya had patrols everywhere, searching every corner of the country, coming in at her from every angle…they would soon have her. They would slaughter her over and over and never stop. And Montoya would reward them with gold and riches beyond their wildest dreams.
Maybe.
If they'd concentrated on their task.
And more importantly…the road.
Without warning, a trip rope - pulled and stretched tight - sprang up in their path, connected from trunk to trunk courtesy of an arrow that had been fired earlier into a tree on the other side of the river. The 'Queen of Sorts' had then waited until the pack of morons were in position, then pulled the rope she'd wound round the tree on her side of the road, to create a nice little surprise hurdle.
The platoon's sergeant was naturally surprised but had enough skill and brains to clear the rope just in time. His men, however…didn't. The first horse tripped and struggled to regain its footing, in the process throwing its rider off in jerky fashion. The cavalry behind soon followed suit as horses either tripped or skidded before ultimately colliding with one another. Soldiers and steeds all fell down both sides of the embankment, their derailment making them dirty, wet and incapacitated.
And if the sergeant thought he'd got off lightly after clearing the rope…he quickly discovered he hadn't. He immediately landed on a pile of slippery leaves and mud, prepared just in case. His horse became startled over the road's sudden lack of traction, lost control and the sergeant met the same wet, humiliating fate of his men.
The impersonator, hidden and observing from trees afar, smiled in triumph. Now she was in the clear, she mounted her horse and rode on to the Alvarado Hacienda with all haste.
Still praying that her friends would have the same good fortune as her.
"Had a little scuffle, Grisham?" asked Doctor Helm innocently, unflinching at the sight of the pistol. "You look like excrement." He then paused to consider this, then furthered, "So no real change there, then."
"Oh, you mean these?" grinned the lone Captain over the lashes and contusions on his face. "And these?" He then gestured to the deep gash on his right arm and the stab wound on his foot. "They're what you call real battle scars, Helm. Not that you'd know, being obsessed with keeping your hands clean."
"Whatever. What do you want?"
"All on your lonesome, huh?"
"Not that it's any business of yours. I'm on my way home. I had a child to deliver at the Domingo residence."
"Don't give me that bullshit, you scrawny Brit," replied Grisham venomously. "That's miles away from here. You'd have been home much sooner."
"It's the truth," explained Helm calmly. "Which out of us two, is more likely to come from me. I'd go into further detail…but you don't have the attention span for long stories."
Having had enough, Grisham tightened his pistol grip and asked, "Where is she?"
"She who?"
"You know damn well WHO. We found her clothes in your office, your work room was a mess, I saw you fire that shot that ignited the gunpowder at the Old Ruins…"
"Do you still have this person's clothes as evidence? Did you actually see me tend to anyone? What time was my office broken into? Are you one hundred percent certain you recognised the face of whoever attacked you?"
Grisham studied the exasperated look on his enemy's face, cocked his head to one side, then nodded, "You know something, Doc? I actually agree with you for a change. There's a much easier way to clear up this whole misunderstanding. I'm betting she's still here, HIDING somewhere! STILL HURTING LIKE THE CONINVING, LITTLE MINX SHE IS!"
The captain's voice echoed throughout the gorge, trying to rattle both the Doctor and the Queen.
"And I reckon…" Grisham continued with a sadistic smile, "that no matter how hurt you are, Queen…you can't bear to see your stupid surgeon drop dead from a heart attack all of a sudden! He's certainly looking like he might drop dead from fright any moment now!"
"Stupid bastards like you never change, do they, Grisham?" sneered Doctor Helm. "Murdering someone out in the open without any provocation."
"I'm more inclined to think hit-and-run by a bandit and I had the grave misfortune to come across your dearly departed ass during routine patrol!" laughed the corrupt captain. "I'll count to THREE, shall I?" He called out again in sick delight. "THREE!" But before his finger could squeeze the trigger completely.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!"
Robert's eyes widened as he looked to see the masked Tessa had emerged from her hiding place, with her hands in the air. Grisham smirked at her as he changed position to hold them both at gunpoint.
"Guess who just became a liar, Doc?" tutted the Captain, shaking his head. "What a surprise. You're both still so pathetically predictable."
"Leave him alone, Grisham," seethed the Queen of Swords, still transparently hurt. "Your quarrel's with me."
"See that's not entirely true," disagreed Montoya's second-in-command, his tone darkening. "I hate you. Both of you. All those times you guys humiliated me privately and publicly, alone or together…"
"Which were funny, you had to admit," grinned the Avenging Angel.
"And much deserved," nodded Doctor Helm enthusiastically.
Grisham glared at them both evilly before asking rhetorically, "You both think I'm nothing but a joke, don't you?"
"Yes," they admitted simultaneously, before adding, "And a pathetic one at that."
"Well, I've had enough. I'm sick of hearing that crap from you, Montoya and that smug S.O.B. Williams. And guess what? Today's the day where I've finally shown you both. I made you break, bleed and cry. Run to your precious Doc, all scared and not wanting to die. And I showed you, that you need a woman to save your miserable ass once again. And me? I'm about to become the real hero of Santa Helena, whilst everyone takes turns to urinate on your tombstones."
"In your dreams, you disgusting freak," retorted the Queen.
"Yeah, I've been dreaming about this moment for a long, long time," nodded Grisham in admission. "What is that they say again? Oh, yeah. All the best dreams come true."
Helm immediately realised that he was going to shoot Tessa then and there. Still wielding the knife that he had kept hidden from Grisham's sight, he dived for the Queen and threw his blade for the captain's hand. Thrown with superb skill, the flying blade knocked the pistol out of the murderer's grasp, cutting his hand deeply in the process, whereas the weapon discharged harmlessly.
Grisham cried out his pain and spent the next few moments clutching his bloody hand. Robert and the Queen had both fallen on the ground together, with Helm secretly cursing himself for bringing the Avenging Angel down to the ground so recklessly, especially in her injured state.
"Stay down," he ordered, getting up to his feet. "I mean it!"
"Take my sword," she told him, struggling to get to her knees. Knowing that there was no time to argue, Robert removed the Queen's rapier from her sword belt, twirled it round in his hand and managed to get it up in time to block an enraged captain's blade.
"Enough's enough, you son of a bitch!" yelled Grisham, as the two mortal enemies grappled fiercely. The Doctor shoved the injured Captain back away from the Queen, and shot up to his feet to engage him. As the two men clashed blades fast and furiously, the Avenging Angel shook her head free of the cobwebs again, and looked to see the man she loved defending her from the man she hated.
Robert…she groaned, thinking what she could possibly do to help. Grisham maybe injured but he won't let himself be taken like this in a fair fight, not now. He's always got a trick or two up his sleeve.
The masked Tessa winced again and clutched her injured mid-section, remembering the gunshot and that damn sledgehammer that Grisham had surprised her with. Her ribs were still held together by the bandages, and her bullet wound remained delicately closed…but they weren't out of danger.
But what could she do? Now?
Grisham lunged with his sword, using the pain of his own injuries to fuel his ferocity. Helm barely managed to deflect the sword away. The captain then came with an overhead strike, then a swing to take the doctor's head off, then another lunge, and more rapid combinations. And even though Robert was able to parry all the attacks, he was slowly being driven back to the nearest boulder.
Realising that Grisham was trying to trap him where he couldn't escape so he could best kill him, Doctor Helm blocked the next attack and grappled his adversary's blade down to the ground, then connected with a hard punch across the face, that rocked him silly.
Out of the two, Grisham was by far the worse for wear, but Robert was by no means in optimal physical condition either. The Domingo emergency very early this morning, saving the Queen, and the fact that he was very tired, very distracted and hadn't anything to eat all day made him below par also.
Both knew they had to finish this quick. Captain Grisham because he was injured, and Doctor Helm because his nemesis doubtless had a trick up his sleeve. The Englishman upped up his attack, trying to knock the American's blade out of his hand, which he was getting closer and closer to doing. The wounded animal was likewise very tired and hurt, and had expended too much energy too early on in the duel.
And it had been a very long day. Before too long, the Captain realised (to his annoyance) that he wasn't going to beat the Doctor.
Helm's tactic paid off, and he finally knocked Grisham's weapon out of his hand. The surgeon raised the point of the Queen's rapier to the soldier's throat, and smirked, "What was that you were saying about dreams coming true earlier?"
Grisham growled against the painful tip uncomfortably caressing his throat, "So now you've decided to grow a pair? I don't think so somehow. You've been spineless ever since day one. You refused to kill me over that antidote, and even when you had that gun to my head you still couldn't do it."
"I really wouldn't tempt me if I were you," warned Robert, lifting the sword up more, making Grisham wince. Despite this, his demeanour retorted, "Maybe you will do it, but it's not a taste you like, is it? Even if it's to save your pretty little girlfriend."
"Finished yet?"
"Never. 'Cos even a coward can't run forever…and when you do…you're mine. You both are."
Helm narrowed his eyes, knowing that Grisham was trying to get inside his head. He'd gotten over all the blood on his hands a long time ago. The memory of Vera being put in a coma and drugged by Grisham reminded the doctor just how much he couldn't stand the sight of him, how he became sorely tempted to kill him himself or have him hanged.
This close to making the animal pay for everything he'd done…made Helm realise that he could actually do it here and now. And that unlike all the other lives he'd taken, Robert would probably be okay with it. Something that he was ashamed to admit.
Grisham flexed his eyebrows and smirked mockingly at Helm, "Even if you both got away…I'm still gonna tell Montoya what you've done. And then you're dead for aiding and abetting a notorious bandit. So it looks like this time, after all your running and irksome tricks…I finally win."
"That's the difference between us," pointed Robert, moving the sword away from the captain's throat. The American chuckled triumphantly on the spot…and was then sucker-punched to the ground by the Englishman, who declared, "I stopped running a long time ago."
He smiled down on his fallen foe. Robert Helm had emerged the decisive victor, and felt proud, vindicated and honourable over his triumph.
For a moment.
"Queen?" he called out, his mood instantly changing to apprehension. He turned round to check on her.
Only to discover that her body…was gone.
"Oh, no…QUEEN! QUEEN!"
Doctor Helm ran to another spot of the gorge, calling out for the Queen.
"RRRRARRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Helm turned round to see the recovered Grisham, reclaimed sword held high about to slice through his body from clavicle to small intestine. The shocked doctor could do nothing except stand…and fall.
Or watch as the Queen of Swords screamed and jumped out of nowhere, sledgehammer raised high, bringing it down on the bewildered Captain's wrist.
Hard. So hard in fact, that it not only made him very painfully relinquish his weapon, but also shattered his wrist, causing horrific screaming. Grisham dropped to his knees, cursing the vigilante whilst clutching his latest (and certainly unwelcome) injury.
"I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA KILL…!"
Grisham's latest tirade ended abruptly when the vigilante swung the mighty hammer one more time. Into the soldier's jaw, no less. The flabbergasted Doctor Helm could only put his hands on his head in disbelief as Grisham's body collapsed again, this time left with no choice but to stay down. He then turned to the masked Tessa clutching her agonising ribs, who dropped the sledgehammer and fell on her rear, before crying angrily at the soldier, "That was for my ribs!"
She then flopped on her back, breathing hard and in pain. Tessa then sat up and held her hand to her stomach once again. Robert was knelt down besides Grisham's body, checking him.
"Yeah, I'm fine!" shouted the vigilante, more than one nerve touched. "Glad you're so concerned!"
"Was that necessary to hit him with a sledgehammer?" demanded the doctor, turning back angrily at her.
"Yes, it was. Next?"
"Where did you even get a sledgehammer from?"
"Found it on his saddle," she explained as she slowly got to her feet. "The sick bastard brought it with him…again. Knew he couldn't resist using the same surprise twice."
"I let him live just so you could…?"
"Relax! I resisted temptation to merely shut him up. Doubt even Montoya will be able to get words out of him for the next several weeks. Probably do us all a world of good."
Robert then carefully examined the unconscious Grisham's jawbone. He'd felt his pulse earlier, slow but steady enough so he'd wake up to plague them another day. When he felt the fracture, though…Helm angrily shouted, "You just broke his jaw!"
"Do you have a problem with that?" Tessa demanded incredulously. "Really?"
The Doctor stared at her, turned back to look at Grisham, thought about it for a second, then shook his head, "No, not really."
The Queen tilted her head to indicate, "There you go then," and then stared at Doctor Helm in frustration when he snapped back, "But you could've gotten yourself killed! I told you to stay hidden and you deliberately ignored me! Then I told you to stay down and not to move, then you pulled that stupid stunt!"
"Hmm," she nodded sarcastically. "You definitely looked as though you could've talked us out of that one. And that you were expecting Grisham to get up and kill you from behind."
"Why are you so flippant and defiant? All the bloody time!"
"You're one to talk!" yelled the masked Tessa as she got in Robert's face. "God, you are such a hypocrite! You can't ever decide whether you love me or you hate me!"
"That's because you give me plenty of reason to do both!" argued the Doctor, raising his voice more.
"Likewise!"
The two stared at each other angrily for several seconds…then pulled themselves into each other's arms and kissed deeply and passionately. When their lips parted, the two looked at each other again and then tightly embraced.
"Thank you for keeping me alive, Doctor," Tessa whispered gently.
"And the same to you, Queen," Robert whispered back. The beautiful silence only lasted a few seconds before the sounds of horse cries made them both turn their heads sharply to the sight of a bandit on horseback, with their horses in tow, heading straight towards them. The Queen of Swords and Doctor Helm separated and assumed defensive positions as the stranger and the horses came to a halt before them.
"Finished the domestic squabble?" asked Williams, ripping the bandanna of his face and pocketing it in his coat. "You two are lucky there's no one else but me to hear that ruckus for miles around!"
"Sergeant?" asked the Queen in disbelief, mesmerised by the fact that he was here, and out of uniform no less. "How? Why…?"
"Just shut up and get on! Both of you!"
The amazed Tessa and Robert looked to one another before mounting their steeds, and following the rogue Sergeant Williams hard and fast out of the gorge, and back on the trail home with all haste.
Marta had returned to the Alvarado Hacienda to find the workers still going about their business. She'd asked if soldiers had visited and was relieved to discover that the answer was 'no'. However, when she'd discovered that Senorita Alvarado had yet to come home, Marta became more fearful for Tessa's safety. Nevertheless, she went to the stables to discover that Chico had safely made it home. The Gypsy calmed the Queen's steed, removed his headdress, harness and saddle and then brushed him down before feeding him. She'd hoped it would take her minds off things but it hadn't.
Then she'd entered the house…to see the Queen.
Or so she'd initially thought.
The pretender apologised and unmasked herself. Then she'd undressed behind the screen in the master bedroom, as she explained to Tessa's servant how she'd successfully fooled Montoya and the people, and eluded her own set of pursuers. With such conflicting accounts, the confusion would most likely create enough headaches for soldiers to simply give up.
She'd finished changing back to her regular clothes (which Marta had brought over with her) and then emerged from the screen and took the lace mask off to hand to the Gypsy.
"You might as well as keep these," the impersonator suggested, as she took the Queen clothes down from the screen and handed them over to Marta who quickly put them away in the wardrobe and drawers. "I think you'll need them more."
Coming back to the pretender, Marta pointed out, "Um…your hair."
She looked at the Gypsy, puzzled over her remark and then realised what she meant. She reached to the back of her head, placed her fingers underneath the shroud of long black hair and then gently lifted the wig off her head. She then used her other hand to remove the hairnet, and her long ginger hair flowed back out.
"That's better," sighed Maria, tidying her real hair with her free hand. "I'd forgotten how cumbersome that wig is."
"Maria…" began Marta, looking at her with serious, honest intent, "from the bottom of my heart…thank you. And your husband. We both owe you our lives this day."
"But she's not home yet," pointed out Mrs Williams sadly. "It could have been…"
"I have faith in the Wheel of Fortune. And I have faith in all of you. More so after today. You've proven that you can be trusted."
Maria looked down for a moment, contemplating what Marta had told them both.
"Marta…do you think…?"
"I'm sure she would approve. I do."
The two ladies smiled at each other and then hugged, solidifying their friendship even more. They then separated when they heard footsteps…and turned to see the Queen of Swords, Doctor Helm and Sergeant Williams enter the room.
Everyone could only take turns to look at each other; shocked, silent…and utterly at a loss for words. Marta had been shocked to discover that Tessa had brought Doctor Helm to the hacienda. Tessa was shocked to discover that Maria was here in the bedroom, holding a black wig of all things. She turned to look back at Williams, remembering that he was out of uniform…and immediately put the pieces together as to what his wife had been up to. Robert Helm was equally shocked to discover the sergeant and his wife here, and immediately realised that today had created a lot of ripples throughout the town.
"Um…hi," said Maria to the Queen, trying to break the uneasy silence.
"…Hi," the masked senorita greeted back, rather tentatively. The tension lasted for several more seconds before Sergeant Williams (who had had enough) nodded to Tessa and Marta, "I think you two should go first, don't you?"
The mistress and servant turned to look back at each other. Tessa took her mask off and she and Marta threw their arms around each other. Tessa winced slightly from her injuries, and Marta gasped, "I'm sorry. Oh, God, you're…!"
"It's okay, it's okay," soothed Tessa, stroking her surrogate mother's head. Both wept over the joyous reunion, as Marta rubbed the back of the girl she had raised.
"Marta, I am so sorry. Please forgive me."
"I'm so glad you're home safe."
Tessa's eyes went wide and she pulled away from the Gypsy to ask, "Chico! Is he…?"
"He's safe and sound. I think he will be most pleased to see you."
Tessa turned her attention to both Maria and Lionel. And Marta likewise looked to Doctor Helm, who nodded respectfully, "Senorita."
Marta paused for a moment before explaining, "I told Maria and Lionel…because I had to. I'm sorry I did so without your consent, but they've clearly proven that they can be trusted. As I'm sure you felt exactly the same with the good doctor."
Tessa nodded her understanding and conceded, "Yes, that's true."
Maria came forth at that moment and offered a warm smile to her friend. Tessa, feeling that she could trust her now more than ever, smiled back.
"Told you you'd find your soul mate," Mrs Williams nodded in Doctor Helm's direction. The Englishman gave a little laugh, as did Tessa who also gave Maria a hug and replied, "Hiding in plain sight."
"Great little actress…" praised Maria in fond realisation, "among other things."
"As are you, Mrs Williams," complimented Senorita Alvarado with approval. "Doubtless comes with experience."
"Bit out of practice, though," the sergeant's wife confessed ashamedly. "Only just managed to pull it off."
"Fact is you did, though."
That comment had come from Lionel, who stepped forward to face Tessa.
"Sergeant."
"Senorita."
"Surprised?"
"Not entirely," Williams truthfully declared. "It all fits together. Let's be honest, at the rate I was going, I was bound to figure it out eventually."
Maria rolled her eyes upward and blew out an incredulous huff.
"Lionel…" began Tessa uncertainly, "I…"
"It's sunset," interrupted the Golden Sergeant to explain. "When you came back into town to find Doctor Helm, Grisham asked for reinforcements and Montoya enforced a lockdown to try and trap you both. A very unpopular decision with the Dons and the public. Montoya had six hours to try and capture you both otherwise he would face political reprisals. I'd say the six hours is just about up by now.
"As well as searching the country, the soldiers were visiting haciendas. With conflicting reports over the Queen's sightings, too many anonymous interferences in the investigation, a first-hand account from me to report what happened today, as well as to confirm that Senorita Alvarado and her servant were at their dwelling…I would say everyone's completely in the clear."
"What about Grisham?" asked Marta anxiously.
"He may have been the only one to see you both together," explained Lionel to Tessa and Robert, "but so what? He obviously won't be able to get his words out for at least a few weeks, much to Montoya's displeasure. I doubt he'll be able to write a report either with a broken wrist. And by the time he finally can…after painful reconstructive surgery and arduous speech therapy…"
Doctor Helm really liked that part.
"It will all be ancient history," finished Williams confidently. "We're all good."
Tessa smiled in amusement over picturing Grisham's humiliation and what would lie ahead for him over the next few weeks, with Robert and doubtless Montoya. She then went serious and realised that today had been far too close for comfort. Captain Grisham had very nearly killed her at long last. And if it hadn't been for Marta, Maria, Lionel…and most importantly of all, Doctor Robert Helm, Tessa Alvarado - the Queen of Swords - would have died for real.
The gratitude in the senorita's eyes was as plain as her smile.
"Lionel…Maria…" began the aristocrat again, looking as though her eyes were about to well up. "I…"
"Kid," interrupted Williams again, his face resolute, "we already owe you our lives as well as that of our daughter. You can consider today, our loyalty from here on out and your secret remaining safe…favours most eagerly returned."
"Ever since we arrived in Santa Helena you gave us nothing but friendship, understanding and salvation," Maria came in. "We love you for that, Tessa Alvarado. And you don't have to thank us. You never do."
Marta gave them both a warm smile, as did Tessa. Doctor Helm appeared to be perfectly content.
"We've got to go," informed Lionel. "Montoya will be waiting, and we've got to get to the school. Theresa's already worried sick."
"God bless Padre Quintera. We'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay, Maria," nodded Tessa happily.
"Sergeant, I left your uniform in the spare bedroom down the right hallway," explained Marta. "You can change there before you leave."
"Thank you, Marta. Doctor, are you coming?"
Robert Helm paused for a moment, the words trapped in his throat. He turned to face Tessa, who was likewise overcome again with anxiety.
"I'll…make my own way home, thank you, Sergeant," he answered. "Thank you for all your help today. Same to you, Maria."
"Anytime, Doctor. Bye, Marta. Bye, Tessa."
The Williams left the room, after saying their goodbyes, and then Marta chose to respect Tessa and Robert's privacy by leaving them be.
The two soul-mates were alone at last.
But only for a moment.
"Tessa," sighed Robert with regret, "I'm afraid our chat will have to wait. I…"
"I know, Robert" nodded Tessa, conceding. "You need to get back to your office, to corroborate your story about the Domingo emergency. And to silence any lingering suspicions Montoya will have."
"And I can't risk doing anything to compromise your secret. Your life."
"I would never do anything like that to you, either."
The Spaniard and the Englishman gazed deep into each other's eyes once more, both desperate to fulfil their hearts' desires, completely and utterly. And the fact that they had to stifle those feelings yet again…was bordering on more than either could bear.
Doctor Helm quelled his sadness, cleared his throat, put on his usual, straight face and said, "I'll give Marta what I have left and tell her to change your bandaging every morning. If you need to wash and bathe, do so only in the mornings before she tapes your ribs. Make sure she's there to help you dress and bathe at all times. No physical activity whatsoever. Keep an eye on your gunshot wound. You'll need to see me again privately in two weeks. Get plenty of rest in the meantime. You'll need it."
He then turned to leave. Senorita Alvarado then resumed her spoilt, rich girl persona and asked, "Doctor Helm?"
The surgeon stopped halfway through the door way to reply, "Yes, Senorita Alvarado?"
"I don't suppose you would care to join me and Marta for dinner tomorrow evening?" she asked cordially. "Doubtless such a hardworking individual as yourself has so much to deal with on a day-to-day basis. Perhaps when the good doctor is free, he will be allowed to be treated to fine dining with such distinguished hosts."
The doctor contemplated this for a moment and then replied back, equally cordial, "Senorita, I have a busy schedule and a list of patients to attend to. But when I am free…yes, I would be honoured to accept such a hospitable invite from mutual acquaintances."
"We'll see you tomorrow evening at 8 'o' clock, then," nodded the senorita in approval.
"Yes, I suppose you will," he smiled. "Senorita."
"Doctor," she smiled back as he left. A few moments after he had gone, Tessa grinned and called out, "Marta! Take out my red dress!"