Disclaimers: The characters from the Queen of Swords are copyright to Fireworks Productions. No infringement of copyright is intended or revenue expected from their use. The story plot and other original characters are copyright to the author, Eliza.

Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Lisa for superlative editing, and to Maril and brig for their suggestions and encouragement.

Swept Away
by Eliza

Virtual Season Episode #6

Part Two of three

Act 2, Scene 3

Grisham fumed as he watched Helm make yet another inspection of the slope into the arroyo. He had sent his men to make a careful search down stream, cautioning them to pay particular attention to the opposite bank. There would be no way to get horses across the wash until the water subsided so any search would have to be done from this side.

"Why didn't you send some of them up stream?"

He hated when Helm talked to him while doing something else as if he were an after thought. "If the ladies were swept up in the current they would be down there," he explained with forced civility. "Their horses made it this far through the arroyo safely. They could have as well."

"I'm not sure that the horses made it this far."

This condescending vagueness was one the reasons why Grisham's first instinct usually was to punch the man. "I have enough mysteries without trying to sort out your damn riddles."

"There are tracks going both up and down the ramp."

"Yeah. So?" That made him sound like a petulant child, so Grisham took a deep breath and laid out his reasoning – again. "There's no doubt that Hidalgo's horse was in the gully. The trap is there. The palomino seemed frisky. It ran to the top turned around came back down to see where its friend was."

"If your men hadn't trampled all over the tracks at the top half of the slope I would be able to tell if you were right."

"So they aren't trained for reconnaissance. Is that my fault?"

Helm leaned over a collapsed section of bank as if to take another look at the trap. His voice floated up over the roar of the current -- calm, smooth and infinitely smug. "As you keep reminding me – you are the one in charge."

The temptation was too much. Grisham didn't care how Montoya would rage over the loss of his doctor -- the position Helm was in was impossible to resist. As Grisham walked down the slope he could almost hear the splash that the English ass would make after just one little shove.

But in the moment he reached the doctor, two fists full of his coat were captured in large hands and green eyes were suddenly glaring into his. "Thinking about a swim, Captain?"

Grisham didn't struggle against Helm's grip. It often took standing this close before he remembered how well matched they were, even if Helm did lead a softer life, so to start a fight here could end up with both of them headed out to sea. Grisham was annoyed enough, however, to risk not to bother denying the accusation. "The thought had crossed my mind." The green eyes narrowed and the hands gripped his coat a little tighter. Grisham met the doctor's stare calmly. "It is very hot for so late in the season. Tends to make tempers fray."

Helm pushed him back and have a disgusted snort. "You're starting to sound like Montoya."

Watching Helm stride angrily back up the ramp, Grisham smirked. He had the feeling that he might have won that round on points.

Act 2, Scene 4

"Coronel, it has been hours."

It had been minutes actually, since Hidalgo had last barged into the office. Scant minutes at that. Montoya looked up from the mountain of paperwork that hadn't disappeared with the development of the local crisis to acknowledge the don's entrance. He noted that Hidalgo had brought reinforcements in the form of Tessa Alvarado's gypsy servant. A nobleman and a woman: he had better rise from the chair.

Hidalgo seemed pleased to have the colonel's full attention and continued, "There must be something more that we can do. Send out more men. Spread out the search."

"Don Gaspar, I feel your pain. However, to waste men on a random search would be foolish." Montoya knew it would be impolitic to remind Hidalgo that he had an army of rancheros. It was best that the dons not think they could handle these matters themselves. "If Capitan Grisham should find a clue as to what happened and require more men, they should be on hand to assist."

"Coronel."

Montoya turned his gaze to the gypsy. It always impressed him that Marta never shrank under his regard as the rest of the peasants did.

"Time could be our greatest enemy. If there has been foul play involved..." Marta broke off her thought but the look on her face finished the sentence for her.

A woman's fear of a fate worse than death -- at least it was a new concern. He nodded in understanding and sympathy. "I share your trepidation, Senora. But the situation remains the same. Until there is further information it is best to remain in reserve, prepared to provide support at a moment's notice."

The shared glance that passed between his intruders gave Montoya hope that this interruption would be blessedly brief. Just as he was about to invite them out of his office, the door was flung open by a breathless soldier. "Coronel, I have a report from Capitan Grisham."

Everyone in the room waited in rapt attention until the colonel prompted, "Well?" Instead of the verbal message that Grisham usually sent, Montoya was handed a piece of paper. The sight of the handwriting solved that mystery. Helm had obviously been a well trained officer and Montoya often wished that he could be persuade the doctor to put on a uniform again. It would be a pleasure to work with someone he could count on to realize that information was the key to an effective command.

The report was brief but included all the pertinent details. It included not only what the party had found, but what they hadn't. Montoya read the report verbatim for Hidalgo and Marta certain that they would insist on knowing everything. The expressions on their faces gave the colonel the sinking feeling that these two were considering taking up permanent residence in his office. There might only be one escape if he was to survive the incident without making a serious political blunder or losing his sanity.

"I would like to tell you, Senor, Senora, that this information rules out some of the more unpleasant possibilities, but I am afraid all it does is add some new ones. Because of the increasing seriousness of the situation I, myself, will now go to oversee the search. If you will excuse me please, I must prepare to leave."

They had no rebuttal to that announcement except their thanks and pleas for a swift return. Montoya sighed deeply as he closed his office door behind them.

Act 2, Scene 5

Tessa was enjoying her afternoon -- despite the circumstances. She felt as if she was on an adventure like the ones she used to go on as a little girl. She spent the day exploring her world -- which was at this moment contained to the area near the outcrop -- mindless of her clothes and of decorum. As a child she would collect leaves and rocks, and present them to her indulgent father. Vera had truly appreciated the treasures Tessa brought back today to be admired, in this case some prickly pears.

She spotted another small patch of the cactus that produced the juicy fruit. There was no water closer than the arroyo but the prickly pears would stave off thirst. Tessa was not worried; she was sure that they would be found the next day. If Vera's knee was better in the morning, they might even start to walk back to the Hidalgo hacienda. It should only take a few hours if Vera would keep a steady pace and there weren't any other flooded washes in their way. Tessa scampered back over the tops of the boulders to get her leather gloves so she could collect the fruit. As she bounced to a stop in front of her friend, Vera started to laugh.

"What?" Tessa asked, taking a hurried look at herself. "Do I have dirt on my face?"

"You look like a child playing out there. A little boy at that, with your big boots and short pantalets."

Tessa chuckled at Vera's echo of her own thoughts. She had put on her damp boots to do her exploring, cactus and scorpions would not be kind to bare feet, but had not bothered with the rest. She knew that she made a ridiculous sight but at the moment she didn't care. "I found some more treasures, too. Have you seen my gloves?"

"They're here. Tessa, could you help me move into the sun before you go? It is starting to cool off and I want to stay as warm as I can. I have the feeling it is going to be a cold night."

"Of course. Do you want to get dressed? I think your dress has dried."

"But the corset is still a little damp. I'll be fine once I'm in the sun again."

It was trickier climbing over the rocks than is was walking across the sand but it was much quicker to scale the ridge than to walk around. The outcrop made a shallow crescent that opened to the west, the whole inner curve was being heated by the autumn sun. Once Vera was settled again, Tessa took another peek at the bruises. The swelling had not increased during the afternoon but the colours were spectacular.

"It's almost pretty," Tessa commented absently.

"There are too many men who share your opinion." Tessa brought her head up quickly in response to the bitter words. It sounded as if personal experience lay behind the statement. Vera blinked in surprise at Tessa's shock and possibly her own admission, then put a sly smile on her face. "I have made it a point, however, no longer to associate with such creatures," she said in a haughty tone. " I only keep company with gentlemen." She paused for a moment as if she was remembering something. "Gentlemen of spirit, not necessarily of birth... although to find both in one man is sometimes possible."

Tessa allowed the subject to be deflected and gave a dramatic sigh. "Yes, but they are always married." She sent a sly look to Vera from the corner of her eye and was rewarded with a slight blush and a little giggle. The Hidalgo marriage seemed to have strengthened since Vera's fall from her horse and subsequent, and assisted, coma. Tessa was certain that Vera's affair with Grisham had not ended but the strong affection that she showed for her husband made Tessa wonder exactly why Vera would remain entangled with the captain. No wonder the lure of gossip was so appealing to many.

Shaking the thoughts away, she pulled on her leather gloves and drew her knife from her boot. "Well, mi'lady. I am off to do battle with scale and spine to provide you with sustenance."

"I am prepared for your return, brave hunter," replied Vera, as she retrieved her own small blade from its sheath in her corset.

Considering Vera's recent comments, Tessa no longer wondered about the knife. It was likely that Vera had been forced to defend herself more than once. Today, however, it would only be used on the spiky fruit. Tessa returned her friend's salute and trotted off to collect dinner.

Act 3, Scene 1

It didn't take Montoya long to reach the arroyo. Even with the weight of the extra supplies, Salan had maintained an easy canter the entire distance. Montoya had noted that when the original tracks had separated there were signs of at least one rider following each trail. The dual search seemed to have been discontinued though, once the arroyo was in sight. They must have found more than the trap after they had sent the report.

Montoya arrived at the site of the ruined buggy just as two soldiers rode in from down stream. The soldiers dismounted and saluted. Montoya nodded in acknowledgment but remained in the saddle to watch the scene taking place at the edge of the water. Helm was on a sloping section of the bank and had leaned far over what looked like its collapsed lower section. He was kept out of the rushing water by a soldier with a grip on length of rope that had been threaded through the doctor's belt. The rest of the company just watched the proceedings silently from the top of the slope, except for Grisham, who provided his usual brand of helpful advice. "If he gets too heavy, Mancera, feel free to let go. There is no point in both of you drowning."

"The concern you have for those in your charge is always so touching, Capitan." Montoya smiled at the startled expressions that turned to face him, and particularly Grisham's look of dismay. Mancera had almost let go in his surprise and Helm was scrambling to maintain his footing on the edge of the bank.

"Is there anything new to report, Capitan?"

"The last search party has just come in, sir." Grisham glanced over to the newly arrived soldiers and received a shake of a head as a report. "No sign of them, Colonel."

Helm had been pulled back to solid ground and was receiving the corporal's apologies with his usual wry grace. "Doctor Helm," Montoya called. "I assume that there was a point to the acrobatics that might have deprived my pueblo of a physician."

The leisurely pace at which Helm approached the rest of the group told Montoya as much about effectiveness of this partnership as Grisham's initial comment. Helm's report, however, was faultlessly professional. "The flood seems to have crested, Colonel. I managed to get a look at the tack still attached to the buggy. There are no signs of anything being cut or broken. The horse was unhitched."

"Inconclusive information at best. What did you find at the end of the other set of tracks?"

"The other horse's tracks just looped this set, Colonel," Grisham informed him.

"I meant the first path. Where they initially meet." Grisham suddenly had difficulty meeting his gaze but had enough discretion not to make excuses. Helm was making an obvious effort to control his temper. "I can see I was right," Montoya sighed. "No one bothered completely backtracking the other horse."

Montoya was not at all surprised to see Helm round on Grisham. "I told you that we should check all of the tracks," snarled the doctor.

"But both horses came out of the arroyo," said Grisham through gritted teeth.

"Just because there were more than one set of tracks doesn't mean that both traveled in the wash." Helm was moving closer to Grisham and his voice was getting softer. "It just means that both were on the slope."

"That is your opinion," the captain growled in reply. He was not backing down, but standing nose to nose with Helm, Grisham was decidedly out classed. He hadn't come close to matching the doctor's imperious tone either.

"Yes, it is," Helm responded smoothly. "One that has been continuously ignored because you are afraid of losing your grip on the big sign that says "In Charge"."

This time Grisham answered with a swing.

As tempting as it was to allow the two men beat each other senseless, Montoya wanted to get this headache resolved. "Enough!" he snapped. "Now I am in charge. Mount up. We might have time to unravel this mystery before sunset."

Montoya watched Helm and Grisham take a final long look at each other before they separated to find their horses. He should have known better than to try and make these two work together. Separately, neither would have overlooked such an obvious clue. Together, they spent too much time butting heads to give the issue their full attention. He didn't repress his smirk as he started Salan along the trail headed up stream: strong emotions tended to make fools of even the most rational men.

Act 3, Scene 2

"Gracias, Senor Hidalgo," Senor Paredes said as he removed the plates and the coins from the table.

Marta opened her mouth as if to protest not being allowed to pay for her dinner, but Gaspar rebutted the arguments before she could make them. "It was your concern for my well-being that prompted me to take the time to dine tonight, Marta. The least I can do is provide the funds."

"I bullied you, Don Gaspar. That is hardly something that should be rewarded."

"But you did it so charmingly."

Marta's features took on the scolding expression that every child had seen on its nurse, though Gaspar could not recall ever seeing a nurse this pretty. "Don Gaspar, what would your wife say if she heard you flirting like that."

Gaspar shared the rest of the bottle of wine between their glasses. "My wife knows that I have excellent taste in women, and that in her I have been blessed with the best I will ever encounter."

Marta lifted her glass in what he knew was a silent toast to his Vera. They had made an agreement a few hours ago to stop telling each other that things would be all right. That hadn't stopped the message from being sent, however, for whenever Vera or Tessa were mentioned in the course of conversation a nod or a raised glass would acknowledge the worry that they shared.

"I have heard that you are trying to purchase some breeding stock from Texas," Marta said casually. "Just heifers or are you trying to obtain a bull as well?"

"Where did you hear that? No, don't tell me. The same place that you heard about the trouble that I am having with the new grape graft." Gaspar sent his dinner companion a very apprehensive look. She grinned. "Senora, why would you want to know about my plans for my cattle herds?"

"Oh, just passing interest really. And to let you know that if you happen to acquire a bull, my mistress had been thinking about strengthening her line. She would provide reasonable compensation of course, such as..."

Gaspar stopped her with a raised hand. "I refuse to negotiate over dinner, and I am not negotiating this with you at all." He saw Marta's smile disappear and her posture stiffen, and he realized how that had sounded. It's not as if he had forgotten that she was a servant, and a gypsy at that, it just didn't seem to matter as much now. The conversation during the afternoon and over dinner had been engaging, but what made him most grateful for her company was that he didn't have to apologize or explain whenever the thoughts of Vera had distracted him. He smiled warmly as he explained his terse remark. "I've seen you in the market, Marta. I would be lucky to be left with the shirt on my back."

His words didn't quite bring the smile back but the challenge in her eyes was impossible to miss. When he did eventually talk to Tessa about this, he knew who would prepare her to strike the bargain. Gaspar looked out to the darkening sky and came to a decision.

"Marta, I am about to make a suggestion that you may consider improper and for that I apologize in advance. I am going to stay at the hotel in order to be near should there be any word of my petal. I hope you would not consider it forward if I also arrange for another room so that you might also be on hand for any news of Tessa. Your company has been a comfort to me during this endless day and I would like to show my gratitude."

He watched his companion carefully for signs of insult or discomfort, but saw only surprise followed by amusement and mischief. He thought for a moment that she was going to make a shocking suggestion, and for that moment he wasn't sure how he would respond. Then all he saw was her smile as she said, "Thank you, Don Gaspar. That is a very thoughtful offer."

Act 3, Scene 3

This had not been one of her better days, but as Vera watched the sun gently kiss the horizon she admitted to herself that it had not been one of her worst either. She had almost died, but no one had tried to kill her. Her leg had been battered against rocks, but it wasn't any damage that wouldn't heal. She was stuck in the middle of the desert, but she wasn't alone.

Vera smiled as Tessa plopped down beside her onto the sand. "Did you want to put your petticoats back on?" her friend asked. "I think they have finally dried."

"My skirts are warm enough; I'd rather have something over my arms. Use the other one, Tessa. Your blouse won't be very warm either. Oh, look at the clouds!"

The ridge of hills that ran along the coast opened in a wide pass allowing a view of the day's sunset from the outcrop. The sky was still the familiar blue on the western horizon but it darkened almost to violet overhead. There were a scattering of high clouds lit flaming red near the rapidly disappearing disk. The ones in the darker sky were a shades of pink and these were the colours that Vera was admiring.

"Beautiful. I had a dress that colour once," Tessa pointed out one of the more delicate hues, "but I lent it to my cousin and forgot to reclaim it before I sailed from Spain."

Vera turned to study her friend. Tessa usually wore rich colours – deep reds, royal blues – but seeing her wrapped in the white cotton it only took a moment to picture her in a more subdued tone. "I think that pink would suit you, Tessa. You should have another dress made."

Tessa smiled and shook her head. "I have enough trouble being taken seriously; wearing pink would only give the impression that I was a little girl."

"Not if the dress is cut properly."

That started Tessa laughing. "You are a bad influence, Senora Hidalgo."

Vera's hands had an urge to open her fan -- but she didn't have one. It seemed an instinctive reaction to languidly fan oneself while thinking of the next shocking comment. When she told this to Tessa, the giggles only increased and Vera was helpless against their infectious nature.

By the time their chuckles subsided, less than half of the sun was left above the horizon. Even though it happened every day, it had always seemed to Vera that the disappearance of the sun was an event that should be marked with silence, almost reverence, as well as a little trepidation. Tessa must have caught the same mood for the quiet stillness between them was comfortable, unlike the enforced tranquility of a church.

As the last fraction of the disc slipped below the horizon, Tessa sighed. Vera echoed it and added, "Some wine would be very nice right now."

"Mmmm," Tessa agreed. "A full bodied wine with a rich bouquet. And some chocolate."

"And oranges. Or better yet, orange pieces dipped in chocolate."

"Stop it, Vera." Tessa poked her elbow into Vera's ribs, her laughter filled scolding softening the blow to a tickle. "Going to bed without dinner is bad enough, I don't need to be imagining dessert."

The reminder of the seriousness of the situation calmed Vera's giggles, but couldn't destroy her contentment at this moment. "If this adventure only ends up costing me a silk dress and a few meals, I will consider it very cheap payment indeed."

She could see Tessa's nod in the fading light. "I've really enjoyed most of the day, aside from the almost drowning part. First star." Tessa pointed out the bright point at the boundary where the night time violet was encroaching on the remaining golden rays. "No, I'm wrong. That's Venus."

"The planet named after the goddess of love -- even better. Make a wish," Vera prompted.

They sat in silence. Vera didn't have the courage to ask what Tessa was wishing for. Even though they had been bridging the gap from acquaintances to friends over the past year, they hadn't reached the point of random confidences. Any confessions seemed to come out of crisis – the death of poor Carmina, the return of Bernard, the loss of Tessa's hacienda. Today the casual comments about her past just seemed to slip out, and although Tessa had not pushed for more she had not pulled away either. Perhaps this was the tentative beginning of a real friendship.

"We should do this again sometime."

Vera could hear the smile in Tessa's response. "Anytime you are planning on ruining another silk dress, you can count on me."

Act 3, Scene 4

Following the trail of the palomino was easy: it never wandered very far from the edge of the arroyo. The search party kept a careful eye on both sides of the bank, but the sight of the rushing water didn't inspire much hope. Then the clear trail ended in a confusion of boot and hoof prints. The boot marks were undoubtedly those of a woman, probably Tessa Alvarado, but what else they implied was harder to discern. While Montoya studied the marks, Helm rode a short distance out into the desert. Upon his return, the colonel turned his attention to the doctor.

"It seemed that the horse had a rider up until this point." Helm dismounted and pointed out the evidence for his conclusions. "The marks are deeper and the horse is moving in a straight line at a steady trot. We've seen the animal's inclination to wander a bit when traveling over open areas."

"So this is where Senorita Alvarado and her mount parted company," speculated Grisham. "She went to look at the water and the bank collapsed."

"Not quite that simple, Capitan," said Montoya gesturing to the tracks. "Here we have a number of trips made to the edge of the arroyo. It is my guess that she came across Senora Hidalgo in distress and tried to help."

Helm handed his horse to soldier and went to look over the edge of the arroyo. "That would explain the missing rope. And it would also mean that this is as far upstream as either one of them would be. We should spread out along...."

"Doctor," Montoya interrupted calmly. "As admirable as your enthusiasm is, the sun has set. It will be very dark, very soon. To attempt to continue the search would be both futile and dangerous. Besides, if the water continues to drop at this rate, we should be able to cross the gorge by morning. Clearly, they did not climb back up on this bank, so it is the other on which we should concentrate."

Leaving Helm to stare at the collapsed bank, Montoya had Grisham organize a camp for the evening. Rather than spending the hour to return to town and starting out again an hour before sunrise, it made sense to just stay here. He had brought extra water and a little wine; the rest of the food was cold, but the bread was fresh and there was plenty of meat and cheese. The astounded look that he received while informing his captain that he planned on sleeping rough with the rest of the men was almost worth the inconvenience of spending a night on the ground. Being out of reach of Hidalgo and the gypsy tipped the balance.

The men found wood along the edge of the arroyo and lit a small fire. Montoya watched with amusement as Helm and Grisham made a point of claiming places on opposite sides of the flames. It was peaceful at first, the men silent as they took the edge off their hunger and fatigue. Then quiet conversations started, but neither Grisham or Helm were drawn into them. The glares that they had been shooting at each other since first sitting down had become a vicious, antagonistic stares.

Grisham caved first. "Out with it, Doctor. If you glower any harder you are going to have an aneurysm."

"Careful, Captain. You'll hurt yourself if you use big words without the proper practice." Helm threw this barb calmly, but then his anger bubbled to the surface. He rose to snap at Grisham across the fire. "You really want to know what I am thinking? I'm thinking how cold it's going to be for those girls tonight. If they are seriously hurt... it might be too cold."

"You're saying I killed them, aren't you?" After a moment of scowling up at the doctor, Grisham climbed to his feet. "We don't know where they are, or if they even made it out of the water, and you're accusing me of wanting them dead."

"I'm starting to wonder if that's not the case. I find it difficult to believe that all of the idiotic decisions that you made could only be due to incompetence."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Grisham must have realized what he had just said for he changed tack quickly. "There seems to be much more than professional concern here, Doctor. What stake to you have in the outcome of this search?"

Helm blinked in bewilderment a moment, then his anger boiled over again at the sight of Grisham's twisted smirk. "What the Hell are you implying?!"

As the argument had progressed, Grisham and Helm had moved toward each other, ending up with the toes of their boots almost in the embers of the fire. Now it seemed as if there was about to be a few punches thrown just above the flames.

Usually Montoya found this kind of behaviour highly entertaining and would let it play itself out to its natural and painful end. But tonight they were on official duty and he had to maintain discipline in front of the men – something else he had to talk to Grisham about when they returned to Santa Elena. The colonel rose to his feet with a sigh and drew his sword. At the sound of steel being bared, the argument paused. A sharp swat with the flat of the blade sent them back to their places on opposite sides of the fire.

"The only reason I am putting a stop to this is to prevent having to find a new doctor... or break in a new capitan. Personally, I think the two of you deserve each other." With that announcement, Montoya found his bed roll and went to sleep.

Concluded in Part Three of Three