Montoya smiled at Vera Hidalgo and patted her knee as they sat together on Grisham's sofa. "Do you feel better now, Seņora?"

"Yes, Colonel. I usually do feel better after talking with you."

"As always, it is my pleasure. Next time we meet, let it be in a more pleasant surrounding like my courtyard, as opposed to Capitan Grisham's...abode. I will, of course, leave first so as not to draw attention when you leave."

"Gracias, Colonel. You think of everything," Vera said, as she slunk into the shadows and out of the room.

"Someone has to," Montoya mused, as he opened the door to the bright sunshine.

When he entered the pueblo square, his thoughts of relaxing with an iced tea in the courtyard were shot to hell when he saw Perez on the driver's seat of what looked to be the Alvarado wagon. He walked, with authority, toward it and noticed Grisham riding his white steed, his eyes trained on the back of the wagon. The wagon stopped, and Montoya saw Marta and Maria Teresa Alvarado's foreman, Eladio, in the back with a large bundle under a tarp.

Marta instantly said, "Colonel. Do not listen to your Capitan. Please listen to me as I relate what happened this morning."

Montoya lifted the tarp to see a dead man's leg and hand, and smiled. "I am sure you have quite a tale."

"Si, Colonel," Marta said, jumping down from the back.

"But will it be the truth?" He stopped her to say.

"Of course it will," Marta said.

Act One

Seņor Prado raced by on a palomino, making Montoya wonder. The man was usually lumbering, at best. What was he doing, riding so fast?

Grisham dismounted. "I am interested in the truth as well, Colonel. I decided to allow them to explain the dead man in this wagon, that I found in Maria Teresa's stables, to you first." He pulled Eladio off the wagon and said, "But have him explain it. He doesn't seem to be as willing as Loose-Lips over there."

"Capitan, please," Montoya said, a bit of his amusement escaping. "Marta deserves respect."

"Thank you, Colonel," Marta said with pride, and casting an evil eye at Grisham.

"Besides, she would not dare lie to me. A dead body is a very serious matter." Montoya lifted the tarp completely off the body and saw the slash on his stomach. He tisked. "Murder, even more so. I must warn you, Seņora. Speak wisely, tell me the whole truth, or you will most certainly hang."

He saw Grisham move behind Marta and noticed his eyes flicker to the dead man's face. "Do you know who this man is, Grisham?"

"No, sir," Grisham said, as he snapped his sole attention on Montoya. "But it looks like he died in pain. Certainly lost a lot of blood."

The townspeople had huddled around them at a discrete distance. When Montoya looked to them, each of them averted their eyes. "Let us cut to the chase, Marta," Montoya said. "Was this man alive when he arrived at your hacienda?"

"You could say that. But, he was...."

Marta was cut off by the crowd parting when another wagon rushed into the square. Some of the women grabbed the children in the way of it and screamed in fright that they would get run over. It went past the square and down the road. Montoya saw Mazar driving the horses and flashed red with anger. He shoved Marta to Grisham and said, "Put her in lockup until I have time to speak to her. The man, too."

"Colonel!" Marta argued, but Grisham took hold of her, shoved her to Perez and followed Montoya.

Montoya stalked down the road after the wagon, and saw Mazar park it at Doctor Helm's door. Helm and Prado met the wagon as it stopped. Another dead body, perhaps? With Mazar involved, Montoya wouldn't be surprised. He motioned for men to follow him. He heard Anton Guevara exclaim, "You must save her!" from the back of the wagon, as Mazar jumped down from the front.

Helm said, "I have supplies readied. Bring her in."

"Get him!" Montoya ordered his men.

"Which one?" Grisham asked, amused. "Both of them?"

"The pirate."

"I ask again, which one?"

Montoya glared at Grisham and said, "I do not have the time of inclination for games. Get a hold of Mazar!" he shouted at his men, and was gratified to see four of them hold Mazar so Montoya could look upon his nemesis.

"Mary Rose," Mazar said, struggling against the soldiers' hold. "Help her, damn you!"

Montoya sauntered up to Mazar and said, "I have been waiting years for this," right as he punched Mazar hard in the general area of the kidneys. "You are on my territory, now. You will regret coming here."

"He tried to kill my mother, Colonel," Anton said, as he, Helm, and Prado lifted Mary Rose from the wagon to the office.

Montoya was surprised to see the blood on Mary Rose, and felt bad that she was hurt. She had, after all, taken out the pirates who had kidnapped him and Maria Teresa Alvarado. She could be beneficial to his plans, but not if she were dead. He told Helm, "Make sure she lives."

"Oh, I did not think of that, Colonel," Helm snipped. "Thank you for reminding me of my duty."

Blasted Brits, Montoya thought. He turned to see Perez and another soldier bring Marta and Eladio toward them. "What part of 'put them in lock up' did you not understand?" Montoya told his sergeant.

"She said she had a vision."

"Someone is hurt and needs my help." Marta gasped when she saw the face of Mary Rose being carried into Helm's office. "Doctor!" she called out. "You need an assistant."

Anton waved her over. "Mother needs all the help she can get."

Montoya nodded to Perez. "Keep an eye on her." He told the other soldier, "You escort this one," he indicated Eladio with a sneer, "to the jail. Grisham," Montoya said, letting his eyes settle on the still-struggling Mazar. "Take this one to jail personally, and throw away the key."

"You have no grounds to hold me," Mazar argued as he tried in vain to hold off the by-now six men holding him.

Grisham ordered them to put Mazar in the back of the wagon as Grisham climbed up and took hold of the reins. Montoya gave an ironic salute as the wagon went past, with Mazar tackled in the back, arguing that he should be able to stay with Mary Rose.

Inside Helm's office, Prado and Anton laid Mary Rose on the table, then Helm pushed them back and motioned for Marta to come forward. He checked Mary Rose's eyes and put his ear to her mouth and nose. He didn't feel a lot of air expelled. "We have to work fast," he told Marta. "She is barely holding on."

"She has the will, but I am afraid she does not stand a chance," Marta intoned, now that she has seen the damage done by the bullet.

"Do not say that, or get out of here," Anton answered her.

Helm held up his hand in warning to Anton. "Think positively, or you can get out as well."

"I had a vision, and the cards were not in Mary Rose's favor."

"Marta!" Helm said, irritated, as he opened Mary Rose's blouse to inspect the wound, "This is life and death, not the flip of some cards. Either help me or leave."

Marta quieted, dunked a towel into a basin of water and wrung it out for him. As she handed it to him, she said, "I am sorry, Doctor. I will, of course, do whatever I can."

"I will, too," Anton said.

"You will stay away," Helm told him, as he patted the damp cloth at Mary Rose's wound. "I will tell you she is fine after I am done, if, and only if, you give me the room and quiet in order to work!"

Prado shoved Anton to the door and said, "We will wait outside, Doctor Helm. Godspeed."

Tessa came to a stop on a cliff above the shoreline, where there was a regiment stationed with tents and a campfire going. The man whom she had been following joined up with them and sat with who Tessa determined was the officer in charge. She wished she had her spyglass, but hadn't thought she'd be investigating anything that day. All she had had in mind was a ride, to go over the death of that man, with Mary Rose and show her the watch and map to see if it meant anything to her. She had not anticipated following a man who had just tried to murder her hostess. Tessa dismounted from Escaldo and hid him in a copse of trees, then crept to the edge of the cliff and flattened herself in the underbrush in order to watch the soldiers covertly.

This was all too odd. Why would a colonel welcome a man who had just shot Mary Rose Guevara? Or was he supposed to kill Captain Mazar? Or, the most frightening option of all, did they know that she was the Queen of Swords and had she been the target? Were they also responsible for the dead man who had happened along near her hacienda? Was Marta right, and his death did mean danger to herself?

Tessa's mind was going back and forth, not knowing what to do. Should she ride down to the beach and act like she had just come upon them while on her daily ride, get to Santa Elena to see if Mary Rose was all right, go home and see to getting that dead man to Montoya, or just stay here and watch what happened?

Montoya walked into his jail and was pleased to see that Grisham had imprisoned Mazar in the smallest cell, with the least comfortable cot. Mazar growled out, "You have no right to hold me, Luis. Open this cell now!"

Montoya laughed as he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. "If I were to list the offenses you have never repaid to society, I am afraid we would both be far too old by the time I would finish. Quit this foolishness of protesting innocence and tell me what you are up to."

"None of your business," Mazar spit out, pacing the small cell like a caged animal. "Let me out of here or so help me, you will regret it."

"I am so afraid of a man just hours away from a noose."

"I need to know she is all right! Have you not ever been in love?"

"Oh, yes." Montoya chuckled, as he clearly loved the current circumstance. "I have not tried your approach of shooting "my love' though. You always did have a strange way of showing love, not to mention gratitude."

"I owe you nothing." Mazar stopped his pacing when he reached the window and stood on the cot to peer out. "If she dies...."

"You will not have to try to kill her again? Tell me, and try for the first time to be truthful, why did you feel the need to shoot her? To get her out of the way before she could destroy you?"

Montoya looked over to see Eladio huddled on the cot in the corner cell. He had never imagined when he got up that morning that there would be a, perhaps two, dead bodies and his jewels gone missing, all in one day. Perhaps Mazar had something to do with his missing stash. Another crime to add to the list.

The door of the jail swung open and Anton burst in. "Get him out of there," the young arrogant man demanded, indicating Mazar with a finger that soon was wrapped tightly into a fist.

"As if you could order anything from me," Montoya said lightly, sighing at the haughtiness of his pueblo's denizens.

"Let him out so I can kill him!" Anton marched to Mazar's cell and banged his fists against it. Two soldiers hooked onto each of his arms. Montoya noticed that the only one with a cool head like his was the occupant of the fourth cell, the Pueblo drunk, Casson, who was just sleeping off a hangover and hadn't stirred from his inebriation since Montoya entered the jail.

Montoya tisked and said, "My, my, my. Tempers are certainly flaring today." Montoya soon joined the ranks of angered when Anton took a swing at him.

Tessa was just about to make her way back to Santa Elena, for fear that Mary Rose was dead. She needed to check on her, and said yet another prayer for Helm to work fast and skillfully to save her. After watching the men do nothing but sip coffee and sit around, Tessa had had enough. There wasn't anything more to find here, unless she rode down to interrogate them. Just as she was going to crawl back from her hiding place in the underbrush, a man on a white horse rode down the incline to her right to the beach. The one in charge stood up when the rider, whom Tessa was amazed to see was Grisham when she saw him turn around after dismounting, walked up to him and shook his hand. He wasn't wearing his uniform. Now that she looked at Grisham's white horse, she grimaced that she hadn't recognized him earlier. She had to have her wits about her at all times.

Grisham? What does he have to do with this? Well, Tessa surmised, he usually did have a hand in bad deeds.

Grisham handed the leader a note. The leader took only a second to scan the note, then invited Grisham to coffee.

Grisham, and, by extension Montoya, had ordered Mary Rose killed? Why? Why had Grisham not met this unit in uniform?

It wasn't until Grisham was invited into one of the tents that Tessa was able to see the occupant. The tent flap closed too quickly, but she processed what she had seen for only an instant. She was sure it was a young woman who was bound to the tent brace, her mouth gagged. She was obviously there against her will, as she had kicked out at Grisham and the leader when they entered.

Tessa wished she could have seen more of the girl, but she had seen enough. She didn't know who that woman was, but somehow guessed that she wasn't in more immediate danger than being held against her will. Tessa was certain from the dead man with the map to Mary Rose's hacienda and Mary Rose's shooting that she wouldn't cull any more information here. She needed to get back to Santa Elena, to hopefully find out that Mary Rose would be fine, and talk to Montoya to gauge if he was hiding anything when she mentioned the shooting and asked where Grisham was. Maybe the captain was working outside of Montoya's control for his own gain. It had happened before. Maybe the colonel would be pleased if Tessa told him what she had seen.

As she mounted Escaldo and rode fast to Santa Elena, Tessa went through all her options. She wondered if Montoya could take Maria Teresa's information wrong, could conclude that she was, in fact, the Queen of Swords, if she shared that she knew Grisham was meeting with fellow military in civilian clothes. The most important thought in her head was hoping that Mary Rose was still in the land of the living.

Continue to Part Eight

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