Part One of Five
Disclaimers: The characters from the Queen of Swords are copyright to Fireworks Productions and Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended or revenue expected from their use. The story plot and other characters are copyright to the author, James Guy.
My extreme thanks to my betas: Shirley (Maryland) and especially for my International Beta, Raquel (Madrid, Spain) who kept me true to the story and characters and language.
The Chumash in my story are the Indians who lived in the are of Santa Elena. For more information, please see Blood Relatives to the Chumash In the Virtual Season Two Archives.
Chumash words:
Ap = House
Ap Yik = Sweat house
Shu'nay = sumac
Siliyik = Sacred enclosure
Wot = Chieftain
Prologue
In the cloud-shrouded night, the Queen of Swords rode slowly along the top of the canyon. She listened for anything that was out of the ordinary. Galloping across the terrain without a moon would be foolhardy and probably cost the life of her faithful mount, Chico. She looked up to the sky to see if the clouds would ever break and allow the moon to shine through.
"Sorry Chico. It's going to be a long ride home without light, old friend," she said as she patted his neck.
A half-hour later, a break in the clouds allowed the crescent moon to cast down a weak light.
"Gracias a Dios," she said as she looked to the heavens.
Suddenly, she heard several voices softly swearing and the unmistakable clang of steel on steel coming from an arroyo ahead of her. She walked Chico close and dismounted. In the dim light, she witnessed ten soldiers surrounding a strange man. He was a big man, probably six foot three, and dressed in a hooded robe. Moonlight reflected off of the steel of his sword as he slashed at the soldiers.
"Chico, ten to one are not very good odds. Maybe I should make it ten to two."
The stallion nodded his head and pawed the ground with his right hoof.
"Glad you agree, amigo. Here we go," she said as she remounted and pulled her rapier from the saddle ring. Nudging the big horse with her heel, she found a game trail and rode down into the arroyo. She stopped short of the circle of soldiers.
"Ten to one odds; that's not even nice. Could you use some help, Seņor?" called out the Queen.
"Ten to one is no problem, but my arm is getting a little tired. Do you have a man with you?"
The Queen gritted her teeth. "No man, just me, but if you don't want help from a mere woman, tell me who your family is so I can notify them of your death."
The man swung his sword, reducing the odds to nine to one.
"My pardons, Seņorita. I have not found many women who fight with swords. You may jump in whenever you wish. Who are you?"
"I am La Reina de Espadas."
"The Queen of Swords," yelled one of the soldiers as the Queen charged her stallion into the circle.
Two soldiers jumped for the reins but Chico reared back and planted two steel clad hoofs in the men's chests for their efforts.
The Queen looked down at the beleaguered man. "Do you want to fight or ride?"
The man looked up at this dark angel on the big stallion and smiled. "A ride would seem to more advantageous," he said as he leapt aboard Chico.
The Queen put Chico into a gallop and bowled over two more soldiers as the man riding behind her let out a shrill whistle. As the two rode away, a large black stallion came out of the shadows and galloped alongside.
"Keep going," the man said as he leapt upon the black and righted himself.
"Follow me," she said as she rode up the game trail and onto the flatlands. Once on level ground, she led the man into the foothills. Riding into a small hidden canyon, she led them behind a large boulder that hid a cave. Without dismounting, she reached for a lantern hanging on the cavern wall and struck a light with the striker hanging on the lantern.
As the light flickered and caught, the Queen and her guest dismounted. She held the lantern up high to see the man, his clothing and a scimitar hanging at his waist.
"Madre de Dios, you are a Moor. I rescued a Moor," she stammered.
"And a grateful one at that, my lady. My name is Mohammed," he said as he pushed back the hood to reveal the swirls of a facial tattoo.
Act One
The Queen looked at the man, taking in his size and guessed his weight around two hundred forty pounds and apparently no excess fat. His blue eyes and light brown almost blonde hair startled her.
"I thought Moors were black," she said.
"A common misconception, my lady. My people were driven out of Spain when all Muslims and Jews had to leave the Peninsula or convert. I am Muslim, yes, but my family was originally from Toledo. My family went to North Africa, where many Muslims are black."
"Mohammed, why were the soldiers after you?" she asked.
"The crime of being a Moor, being a Muslim, being different. Who knows? As soon as they saw me they chased me."
"Surely you must have known that you would not be welcome in Nueva Espana, why are you here?
"Allah decreed that my ship would flounder in the seas and I would be rescued by a Portuguese ship. They dropped me off in Monterey. I decided to work my way East towards Los Estados Unidos but the soldiers caught sight of me. Now, if you will excuse me, I must say my prayers as I did not have time to do it when I was running. Even the Qur'an can forgive you for skipping prayers when you are being chased. Which way is East?"
The Queen pointed in the direction and went back to the horses as she watched him take a small carpet from his saddle and roll it out. She was impressed when he removed his boots, knelt down, and placed the hood over his head. She watched as he knelt on his heels and lowered his head to the prayer mat, his eyes closed and his hands stretched out palms facing upwards. His prayers were strong and clear but in a language she did not understand.
A short while later, Mohammed rolled up the rug and replaced it on the saddle.
"Are you hungry? All I have is some tortillas," she asked.
"That would be fine. Reina, you didn't know I was a Moor when you rescued me. You were surprised when you found out, but I sense no animosity towards me. Why not?"
I won't judge anyone because of their religion, nationality or their race. I am a blood sister to a Chumash, leader and I have been in a sweat lodge. The Chumash are the tribe of Indians that are native to this area. A friend of mine is an Englishman and I was raised by a gitano," she replied.
"You are an unusual woman, Seņorita. You are a brave warrior and a tolerant Spaniard, and a beautiful one at that. Why do you wear a mask?"
"Do you want a long or short version?" asked the Queen.
"A short one would suffice."
"I don't like to see injustice."
"That works for me," replied Mohammed. "How did you know I was a Moor?"
"Let's see. Baggy pants, hooded robe, and carrying a scimitar."
"You mean the facial tattoo didn't clue you in?"
"I have seen similar things among the Chumash."
"I can't stay here forever. I must leave."
"I will show you how to get to a hacienda that will give you help. Go there tomorrow evening. In the meantime, stay here," she said as she sketched a map in the dirt.
"Allah be with you Reina," he said as she mounted.
"Vaya con Dios, Mohammed," she replied.
Tessa informed Marta of a stranger who would arrive in the evening. As hard as Marta pressed, she could not get anything more out of Tessa.
Just after dark, a knock at the back door brought Marta into the kitchen. She opened the door and stared at a man's chest. Her eyes traveled up the chest and gazed at the face.
Marta screamed, jumped back into the kitchen and grabbed a meat cleaver.
"Tessa get out of the house. The Moors have landed," she yelled.
Standing in the doorway Tessa snickered. "Funny, I only see a guest standing in our doorway."
Tessa walked to the door and held out her hand. "I am Tessa Alvarado. There is a custom here in Alta California that says 'mi casa es su casa'."
"Gracias Senorita. I am Mohammed. I see your friend is una gitana. You don't Appear to be afraid of me."
"A friend of the Queen's is a friend of mine. I trust her judgement. I am afraid that I played a trick on Marta. The Queen told me who was coming but I didn't tell Marta."
Mohammed laughed as he looked at Marta. "Is that meat cleaver for me or for you?"
Tessa looked at the evil eye that Marta cast in her direction. "At the moment, it is probably for me."
Mohammed removed his boots and left them outside. Then, he took his scimitar and handed it hilt first to Marta. "Such a beautiful woman should have a better weapon to defend herself from the likes of me."
Marta took the scimitar and put the cleaver away. "Tessa, in the parlor, now."
Tessa grinned as she followed Marta and closed the door.
"Perdido la cabeza, Tessita?" said Marta spinning around, and accidentally shortening a candle with the scimitar.
"Only if you keep swinging that sword around. No, I have not lost my mind."
Marta put the sword down on the table. "You brought a Moor here? You know the Moors and gitanos are deadly enemies."
"He was surrounded by Montoya's soldiers. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Marta. Besides, he is kind of good looking, don't you think? He is nothing like the stories of Moors that I have ever heard."
Marta laughed. "Yes, he is quite handsome, facial tattoo and all. I will play nice for you, Tessa."
Marta walked out of the parlor with the scimitar in hand and gave it back to Mohammed, hilt first.
"Welcome to our home, are you hungry?" asked Marta.
Mohammed took the scimitar and sheathed it. "Si, I am ravenous. Gracias Seņora y Seņorita."
"So what is for dinner, Marta?" asked Tessa.
"Just a light meal of salad and fruit."
"What? No meat?" asked Tessa.
"Our guest cannot eat meat unless it is prepared properly according to the Qu'ran," replied Marta.
"How is it done, Mohammed?" asked Tessa.
"According to our beliefs," interjected Mohammed. "The Qu'ran specifically forbids six foods or food groups: blood, carrion, pork and intoxicating beverages prepared from grapes. At the time of slaughter of permitted animals, the name of God must be mentioned, specifically the phrase: In the Name of God, the Compassionate, and the Merciful, or Bisimallah er Rahman er Rahim. The throat of the animal must be cut in front with a knife. If the butcher is distracted and the name of another person or deity is mentioned during slaughter or while butchering the carcass, the flesh of that animal is designated haram or forbidden.
"It almost sounds like kosher," said Tessa.
"Similar. Jewish and Moslem dietary laws forbid consumption of meat from animals which are not 'healthy and moving' when killed. I am surprised that you are knowledgeable of such things."
"I don't mean to brag, but I am well read," replied Tessa with a crooked smile.
"This land continues to amaze me. The women appear to be more independent than anywhere I have been."
"We may be from Spain, but Alta California is still a land that needs to be tamed and that takes strong people."
"That it does. Pardon me for asking. Are you the owner of this hacienda? I mean no disrespect but do you have a father, brother, uncle or husband who actually run the rancho?"
"No. No men folk. Just me. Is that a problem?" asked Tessa defensively.
"No. I made that mistake by asking the Queen if she had a man with her when she came to rescue me. I swear she was about ready to leave me to my own devices."
"Never judge a book by its cover, Senor. You might be surprised," replied Tessa.
"I see you follow that also. You have not judged me and neither did the Queen. You are truly two amazing women. Marta took a different stand at first."
"You are right. Marta is gitana and I know that Moors and gitanos are deadly enemies. She has accepted you into our home."
"Seņorita, she looked like she wanted to use that meat cleaver on me."
"Believe me, if she had wanted to, she would have," grinned Tessa.
Act Two
The next day, during her morning ride, Tessa encountered Doctor Helm on the way to her hacienda.
"Doctor Helm, why are you out so early? Do you know it's not even ten o'clock?"
"Smart alec," he replied. "Marta has some herbs for me and I needed to get away for a few hours."
"Sounds serious."
"Let's just say that Montoya's men have some interesting injuries."
"Interesting? How so?" she asked puzzled.
"Two of the men have hoof prints on their chests and two others look like they tried to stop a running horse. On top of that I found some unusual sword gashes. Has the Queen started using a scimitar?"
"Not that I know of," replied Tessa with a straight face.
Helm shook his head.
Tessa rode close to Helm. "Roberto, you came here from Texas. Was it a hard journey?"
"Other than no food, little water, blistering heat, lots of snake, scorpions and Indians, it was a cake walk. Are you planning on taking a trip?"
"A friend of mine is planning on a trip to Los Estados Unidos."
"Your friend should take a ship around Tierra del Fuego or to Panama and walk across the isthmus. I damned near died on that little trip. Only Indians and fools would live, let alone travel across Arizona, New Mexico and Texas."
"You did," she replied.
"I rest my case," chuckled Helm.
"Is there another way?" she asked.
"Possibly. There might be a northern route, but that part of California has never been explored, as far as I know. I know that some Americans have come across country into California. Your friends Rob and his family, as well as Jacob, came here and I don't think they came across the desert. Did they ever say?"
"No, and I wish I had asked."
Riding up to the hacienda, they dismounted and walked in the front door.
"Marta. Doctor Helm esta aqui. Donde estas?" asked Tessa.
"Estoy aqui en la cocina," replied Marta.
Tessa and Robert walked into the kitchen to find Marta and Mohammed sitting at the table.
"Mohammed?" asked Helm.
"Robert?" asked Mohammed getting up from the table.
"I take it you two know each other," said Tessa as she watched the two men shake hands and hug.
"Robert saved my life in Almeria when I tried to get back to Spain to see a friend. Almeria had been Muslim but not then. Robert was in Almeria for, shall we say, 'business'," said Mohammed.
"Uh huh, business," said Tessa nodding her head.
"Robert, did I hear correctly? You are a Doctor, no?" asked Mohammed.
"I am," replied Helm. "Tessa, is this the friend whom you were speaking of? Mohammed is probably the only man I know who would feel at home in the desert. Mohammed, are you still sleeping with scorpions?"
"Yes, but now they are the two legged female variety," he laughed, then stopped short when he saw the glare coming from Marta and Tessa. "Oops, I did it again."
"Now I know where those scimitar slashes came from," said Helm. "How long will you be here?"
"Only long enough to get some supplies for the trip," replied Mohammed.
"Mohammed, I will get you a pack horse and the supplies. How would you feel about preparing some meat for your journey," asked Tessa. "You can pick out a steer. I would like to watch as you prepare it according to your customs."
"Tessa, a slaughterhouse is no place for a lady," replied Mohammed.
"Maybe not, but a slaughterhouse is a place for the owner of a hacienda. I have helped deliver calves, colts and, on occasion, slaughter a steer. I am the owner of this hacienda and there is nothing that I cannot do," replied Tessa. "I promise I won't faint."
Mohammed laughed. "All right Tessa, but remember, you may not speak during the ceremony. Robert will you join us?"
"No thanks. I have seen my share of slaughter," replied Helm as Tessa left the kitchen.
"Robert, Tessa is one of the strongest women I have ever met. If you don't ask her to marry you, I may have to come back and do it myself," he elbowed Helm in the ribs.
"Don't even think about it, amigo," said Helm with a glare. "That woman is very special to me."
Continue to Part Two
If you have missed any episodes so far, you will find them in the Season Three Archives section .
