Disclaimers: The characters from the Queen of Swords series are copyright to Fireworks and Paramount. No infringement is intended nor revenue expected from their use. The story plot and other characters are copyright to the author, Maril.

VS Episode #227

Devil Moon
by Maril

Part Three of Six (Parts 4-6 next week)

Act Three, Scene 2

"Sounds like jimson weed," Marta mused. "From the symptoms, I would say the cattle are eating it, but I don't know where it would be coming from unless someone has planted it on Hernandez hacienda for some reason. It does not grow locally. Only further east near the mountains."

After her interview with Casillas, Tessa had sought out Marta with a question. She had an intuition about these unlucky events at the Hernandez hacienda. Too many to be a coincidence. There had to be some agency behind it. And, whoever was doing it was letting the blame fall on the Queen. She must put a stop to it.

A little frisson of anxiety chilled Tessa. If Marta knew it was jimson weed, who else would know? She voiced her fear to Marta.

"That medication that you made up for Hernandez, Marta. It had Datura or jimson weed in it. Don't you see? If anyone finds out you have the plant and they know what is killing the cattle, you could be blamed."

"It would not be the first time that gitano were blamed for killing livestock." Marta smiled wryly. "Sometimes, they were guilty too. The zincali have many means to survive, one of which is to get free meat when they can."

"Who else would have the knowledge of this plant and its properties?" Tessa paced the kitchen, stopping now and then to pick at the fruit salad Marta was preparing for their lunch.

"Many people. Who knows? The Indios use it for visions, the padres at the Missions know about it and try to ban it. It is a common weed and grows wild. Joachim gave me a sackful the last time he visited his people. But anyone could get it the same way I did."

"I guess the next question is ... who hates Hernandez enough to destroy his stable and kill his cattle?" Tessa reached for another plum only to have her hand slapped.

"Wait until lunch," Marta said brusquely. "As for Hernandez, he has many enemies. Also, do not forget about the headaches and that other problem his wife told me about." Marta paused in the midst of cutting up an avocado. "There may be some connection with the other events. Someone may be giving him some kind of drugs that bring on these symptoms."

"The finger of suspicion might point at you, Marta. People around here think you can create potions and spells for anything." Tessa's eyes tried to penetrate that barrier Marta always kept up to shield her thoughts and feelings.

"It is odd you should mention spells, Tessa. I have been thinking..." Marta paused then returned to peeling the avocado.

Tessa raised her eyebrows questioningly and waited. Finally, a little exasperated, she said, "What? What have you been thinking?"

"Nothing," Marta said airily. "You would only say it was me being superstitious." She picked up the bowl and carried it from the kitchen to the dining room. Tessa followed, vexed at her inability to get Marta to explain what she was thinking.

Act Three, Scene 4

"Mulavo! Mulavo!"

Tessa sat bolt upright in her bed, awaking from a sound sleep. She was not sure if the cry had been part of a dream. Then she heard it again, the Rom word for 'evil'. It was Marta who was calling out. Instantly, Tessa was on her feet hurrying to Marta's room. She pushed open the door to find Marta sitting up, staring at something that Tessa could not see. Marta was shaking and trying to push some dread thing away, mumbling Rom prayers and wards against evil. She was still asleep, having a nightmare. It was the third time in a week she had suffered from these terrible dreams.

Sitting carefully on the bed, Tessa took Marta's hands and gently shook her to wake her up. The look of terror on Marta's face was unnerving, and Tessa almost felt a malign presence in the moonlit room. She shivered, tensing her shoulders as if expecting something to leap on her from behind.

"Marta, wake up," Tessa said, shaking her again more firmly. "You're having a dream. Wake up."

"Tessa!" Marta exclaimed as her eyes focussed and she woke up. "Madre de dios, what a terrible nightmare. It was horrible — the fire, the drums, that inhuman face." She was trembling and Tessa put her arms around her.

"It was just a dream, Marta. Just a bad dream. It's strange you are having so many nightmares suddenly. What do you think is causing them? Something you ate?" Tessa tried to laugh, to lighten the dread she felt in her heart.

"Something has come among us, something mulavo, evil," Marta said with a shudder.

"Well, go back to sleep. You're safe here." Tessa tried to push her back onto her pillow, but Marta resisted.

"I don't want to sleep in case the dream comes again. Stay with me, Tessa." Marta's eyes were wide in the moonlight, frightened like a child's.

"Of course. Just like when I was a child and had bad dreams and you let me stay in your bed. You used to sing me Rom lullabies or tell me Gypsy folk tales until I fell asleep." Tessa smiled at the memory as she snuggled down into the covers next to Marta. It had been a long time since they had been so close. It was comforting, bringing back the security she had felt when Marta protected her from her own night terrors. 'Now it is my turn to protect her. A strange turnabout,' Tessa thought as she yawned and settled more comfortably.

"Shall I sing you a lullaby, Marta?" Tessa jibed.

"Please don't," Marta replied with a laugh. "I have heard you sing."

Act Four, Scene 1

"They say it is the Queen of Swords," Vera said, leaning confidentially toward Tessa as they sat in the cantina the next day. Vera sipped her wine, glancing coyly over the rim at a young man lounging near the entrance to the verandah.

Tessa was nettled, not only by the infamous gossip that was spreading about the Queen, but also that Vera could not keep her eyes off a handsome man, even while in her company. Though, this time she had to admit to Vera's good taste. The young man was very handsome in a dark bold way. He toasted them, raising his wineglass with a daring smile. Tessa turned away, hoping he would not be encouraged to join them.

"Why do they say it was the Queen, Vera?" She tapped her friend's arm with her fan to recapture Vera's attention.

"She was seen lurking around one of his herds late at night. They think she is poisoning the cattle. One of Hernandez' rancheros said he saw her quite close. She was dressed in black and wearing a mask. That is pretty good proof, would you not say?" Vera returned her gaze to where the young man had been standing but he was gone. A pretty pout on her lips, she said, "You scared him away, Tessa. And he was making such eyes at you too. Don't you want to marry?"

"Someday, Vera, when the right man comes along. Now about the Queen..."

"The right man will never come along, Tessa. You must exert yourself to find him. Encourage him with a look, a smile, a touch, a kiss. Did you learn nothing at the Spanish Court?" A slight hint of condescension coloured her tone.

Somewhat irritated, Tessa continued, "What about your herds? Are your cattle dying of this strange disease?"

"No," Vera answered, sounding bored. "Only Señor Hernandez' cattle seem to have this sickness. Over the last week, he has lost nearly two hundred head. Maybe, Tessa, if you wore your hair up in the back with a fancy comb. What do you think? It could be quite attractive. And what about wearing more red or dark blue. Those colours suit you so well."

"Vera, stop trying to marry me off. I will know when the time is right, and it is not yet." Realising she would get nothing more from Vera, Tessa gave in and let the conversation flow with the usual gossip, retailed with such relish by Vera. Soon, she was laughing and enjoying herself despite her worries. Since their adventure in the flash flood, Tessa had felt a bond with Vera, a trust in her new friend.

Tessa had already decided to investigate for herself. Somehow she must put a stop to the cattle deaths and clear her name. 'Tonight,' she thought, 'I will check Hernandez' herds to see if I can see anything suspicious.' Though the crimes were being pinned on the Queen, Tessa was not convinced there was a woman behind them. It could just as easily be a man.

Act Four, Scene 2

Moonlight played over the large herd as they moved with ponderous slowness, like a black tide over the moon-whitened plain. A dark figure rode stealthily among the cattle. They lowed and wandered nervously away.

From her perch in the rocks above, the Queen watched through her telescope. She had been waiting for several hours, hoping the culprit might return to repeat his mischief. Her patience was rewarded as she saw him drop a bundle of something onto the ground. 'Jimson weed,' she surmised as she snapped the spyglass shut. 'The monster is planning to kill more cattle, and blame me for it. Not if I can help it,' she added as she slipped down from the rocks onto the ground where her horse waited.

She mounted quickly and kneed Chico into a fast trot, keeping her eye on the other rider who had dismounted and seemed to be spreading the jimson weed around in the short grass. The masked figure looked up. 'He sees me!' Tessa thought in sudden alarm. 'I can't let him get away.' She drove her heels into the horse's flanks and it bolted forward.

Cattle darted away in panic from the oncoming horse, leaving a clear field as Tessa reined in and leapt from the saddle. The other figure had not moved other than to unsheathe a sword. Clearly, he wanted a confrontation. The Queen had her own rapier already in her hand as she warily stepped toward her foe. A shiver of excitement shook her at the prospect of this combat.

"Why are you doing this?" the Queen asked as she closed the distance. "Are you going to stop with the Hernandez hacienda or do you plan to poison the other dons' herds too?"

No answer issued from behind the mask covering the other's face. From closer up, Tessa could see he was around her height and weight, giving her opponent no extra advantage. She noted how he held his sword. 'Italian School', she thought, adding to the information she was rapidly collecting before they crossed swords. The other swordsman was dressed entirely in black, including his jacket and shirt. A wide brimmed hat covered his hair and the satin mask totally obscured his features except for his eyes. In the moonlight, those eyes glittered almost madly.

That thought had hardly crossed her mind before she was fighting for her life. He had lunged suddenly, hoping to catch her off-guard. She parried easily but he came back with a series of quick thrusts and slashes that kept her on the defensive. Tessa realised from the strength of the blows on her sword that they were equally matched. Only stamina and technique would win this duel. A quick smile flitted across her lips. 'I have plenty of both,' she thought smugly.

The bright moonlight glinted off the flashing swords. Tessa sensed her adversary was tiring. The slashes against her sword seemed weaker, less intense. 'It could be a feint,' she reminded herself, remaining on guard against a sudden move. It was fortunate she was prepared as her opponent executed a perfect flèche, a rapid lunge made almost at a run. Tessa stepped aside and parried the thrust, sending her foe stumbling and off-balance. She tried a quick disarm and found him ready for her with a counter-parry. 'This is getting frustrating,' she thought as she continued to keep up a steady volley of offensive manoeuvres but nothing could get through his defence. Her own breath was laboured and her arm was tiring. Though she could hear his breath rasping and wheezing, he showed no sign of wanting to give up.

Finally, she put up her sword and stepped back a few paces, keeping a close eye on him. "Why don't we call it even?" she panted, her chest heaving from exertion. "No one has to die here. Just get on your horse and leave. Don't trouble us again."

"Can't do that," a strangely muffled voice choked from behind the mask. "I haven't accomplished my mission yet." He held his sword at arm's length, level with his shoulder, prepared for her next move.

"What is this mission?" Tessa took another step back as she watched the other's eyes, waiting for that cue that he would try a sudden attack. She needed the respite to get back her breath, but it was also giving her opponent the same reprieve. The break gave her a better chance to view this scoundrel, to take his measure better. The more she looked, the more she became convinced her opponent was a woman. The lithe frame, though tall for a woman, seemed to have less strength than she would have expected. The fact that the features were completely hidden by a mask pointed in that direction as did the voice. Its tone seemed deliberately lowered but still high for a man.

"Why are you after Hernandez?" Tessa asked. "I know you are a woman. Did he wrong you in some way and you are seeking revenge? Believe me, there is no pleasure in vengeance."

A harsh laugh erupted from the other. She said in a rough, but feminine voice, "If only you knew how I have dreamed of this, you would not say so. I will ruin him as he has ruined me. When I am finished with him, he will wish he was dead. But I will not kill him. That would be too easy and quick for him."

The mouth, partly hidden by the mask, drew back in a snarl and the opponent charged, narrowly missing Tessa's shoulder but tearing the silk of her blouse. Quickly recovering, Tessa slashed as the other rushed past, slicing the jacket and cutting the arm. A howl of rage burst from her adversary and Tessa tensed for the next charge. Instead, she saw the woman pull out a tiny gun and aim it. Tessa dived away just as the gun flashed but not fast enough. She sensed a burning sensation near her rib then an explosion of pain.

A galaxy of stars swam before her eyes and she feared she would faint from the agony in her side. Her opponent, taking advantage of Tessa's weakness, drove at her with manic intent, her eyes mad with bloodlust.

Act Four, Scene 2

Helm reined the horse and listened. The echo of a gunshot rebounded off the distant cliffs. He was returning from the Hernandez hacienda after tending to several workers who were suffering from severe stomach cramps. Helm suspected they had been poisoned considering all the other suspicious incidents happening at that hacienda.

Across the wide plain, he could see the flash of something in the moonlight, then heard a faint clanging sound. 'Swords!' he thought, spurring his horse toward the two figures he could now see moving in a sort of deadly dance. As he closed the distance, he noted one of the combatants seemed to be losing, staggering under the other's sword blows. With no weapon about him, Helm felt helpless to intervene, but he hoped his sudden appearance might break up the fight.

Nearer now, the two figures became more distinct. His heart lurched as he recognised her. The Queen! And she was being driven back by someone in a black costume, scarcely holding herself up under the force of the sword blows. Still too far to help, he saw her fall and her opponent raise his sword in two hands for the killing stroke. He bellowed, "Stop!" and saw in relief the adversary turn and run to his horse. In an instant he was mounted and galloping away.

Helm's horse skidded to a halt as he jerked back the reins. He leapt off and ran to the fallen figure on the ground. Dropping to his knees, he felt for a pulse under her jaw. It was beating strongly and he breathed a sigh of relief. At first, he could see no sign of a wound, but as he touched her side, he shuddered. The warm viscosity of blood coated his fingers. The gunshot. Someone had shot her. His mind grappled with this impossibility while he fumbled with the laces on her corset. She is invincible. No one can kill her. His brain rebelled at accepting the obvious truth in his hands. Her blouse was soaked with her life's blood and it was ebbing away quickly into the earth.

He felt his hands being pushed away and heard her groan as she tried to move. The moon shone in her eyes. Annoyance and pain edged her voice as she rasped, "What are you doing?"

"I'm being a doctor tending a wounded patient," he answered tersely. "Now if you will allow me to examine the wound..."

She held her side and sat up, her breath catching as a spasm of pain must have racked her. "I'll be all right. Just help me onto my horse."

The sound of hoof beats drew Helm's attention and in the light of the moon he could see a dust cloud in the distance. "Oh no," he breathed, "Riders coming hard in this direction. They must have heard the gunshot." Without waiting for her consent, Helm lifted the Queen and half carried her to his horse. "Get on. We'll argue about it later."

When she had mounted with his help, he swung up behind her and took the reins of her horse. For a second he was uncertain of the direction. The Queen reined the horse toward a row of cliffs a mile away and nudged it into a gallop.

Helm risked a quick glance behind to see if they were being followed as they flew across the plain toward the safety of the canyons. The riders had stopped pursuing them and seemed to be intent on rounding up the cattle. He slowed the horse to a fast trot, not wanting to tire it too much with its double burden.

The Queen was leaning against him, her limp weight suggesting she had fainted. He felt the sickening warmth of her blood soaking into his shirt as he held her closely to keep her from falling. As soon as he was sure they were out of sight of the Hernandez vaqueros, Helm reined the horse and carefully dismounted, then lifted her off the horse and carried her to a protected spot behind some rocks. Gently, he set her in a seated position against a flat boulder and went back to his horse to retrieve his medical bag.

She stirred, groaning softly. She seemed disoriented as she looked around. As full consciousness returned, the Queen tried to stand up. Helm caught her and sat her back down. He laid a blanket on the ground and pushed her gently but firmly onto it.

"This is hardly the time or place for a romantic tryst, Doctor," she said wryly as she watched him opening his medical kit.

"Don't you ever quit!" he snapped. "You nearly got yourself killed and you make jokes. Well, I'm not in a laughing mood right now." He glared down at her for a moment then he knelt beside her. His hands trembled as he unlaced the corset but he could not get the tiny buttons on her blouse undone.

"I'll do that!" she replied brusquely as she pushed his hands away. "Haven't you ever unbuttoned a woman's blouse before? Never mind. Don't answer that."

"As a matter of fact, I have but the circumstances were quite different. Shall I describe it for you?"

"No! Just patch me up and I'll be on my way." The Queen parted the lower part of her blouse and Helm leaned closer to examine the gunshot wound.

"I can't see anything. This may hurt a bit but I have to look for an exit wound." With that he felt along her rib toward the back. She recoiled but he wasn't sure if it was from pain or the unaccustomed touch of his hand. He shook his head. "No exit. The bullet is still in there. It will have to come out."

Pulling out a wad of cotton from his medical bag, Helm pressed it gently on the wound causing her to inhale sharply. He admired her courage and resistance to pain. Stronger men had fainted with less reason. "Hold that while I wind some strips of bandage around it for now. I have to get you to some place with enough light so I can probe for the bullet."

Her eyes flashed in the moonlight and he braced himself for another battle of wills. "Doctor, just bandage the wound. I can take care of myself." He felt her shiver and knew the shock of the bullet wound was starting to affect her. The longer the lead remained inside her body, the more chance of infection killing her.

In a voice laced with sarcasm, he said, "Yes, I saw how you can take care of yourself tonight. If I had not arrived in time, you would be dead now." He finished wrapping the bandage around her lower body then tied it securely. Closing the medical bag, he stood up.

"Thank you for saving my life. Now I have to get out of here. Someone will take care of me, I assure you, Doctor. I'm sorry to have been such a burden." The Queen tried to stagger to her feet, but swayed and leaned against Helm. He picked up the blanket and wrapped it around her.

Helping her onto his horse again, he climbed up behind. "The Alvarado hacienda is the nearest other than the Hernandez place, and I doubt if you want to go there." He smiled wryly as he felt her tense. He knew about her run-in with Hernandez over the cattle he had allowed to trample over some peasants' crops, then refused to pay for the damages. The Queen had forced Hernandez to make reparations. There was no love lost between them, Helm was sure.

"I don't want to go to the Alvarado hacienda either," she said petulantly. "I have my own resources and if you would just let me go, I will manage." Her voice sounded weak, unconvincing, making Helm smile. She could not just give in gracefully, he thought amused.

"You are the world's worst patient," he murmured in her ear as he nudged the horse into a walk. The slight motion made her gasp with pain and he winced in sympathy. Despite his pretended levity, he was concerned. Without light to see the wound properly, he did not know where the bullet had entered or where it was now.

"We're going to the Alvarado hacienda because there is a healing woman there who can help me with you. I have a feeling you will be more than I can manage." He felt her laugh then stiffen with a sharp intake of breath. Every movement of the horse was causing her pain. He felt it as keenly as if it was happening to his own body.

©Devil Moon by Maril – April 2002

Continued in Part 4 - Devil Moon

Please send your comments on this story to the author - Maril