Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrights of Paramount and Fireworks Productions. No infringement is intended. The story plot is original and copyright to the author, Maril Swan.

The Hunter
by Maril Swan

Part Three of three

Corporal Quinterro felt ill. The wine from last night was roiling in his stomach and the rocking motion of the horse was making it worse. In spite of his duty to guard the gold coach, he had to stop soon. He called to the other soldier cantering beside him.

"Montez, I'm going to be sick. I have to stop. I'll catch up." He ignored the concerned look of his friend as he reined his horse and jumped off, not a second too soon. In the next moment, he felt a boot in his back and he fell, just as the masked rider flew by, taking his horse with her. Quinterro reached for his gun but the coach had rounded a slight turn and was out of sight. Now he felt really sick as he leaned against the rock wall of the canyon for support.

The coach was only a little distance ahead, and the Queen was closing fast. Only one outrider behind now, she noted with a grim smile. She uncoiled her whip and lashed out at the soldier. It snaked around his shoulders. She pulled hard and toppled him from his horse. The whip uncurled and she hauled it back. Still two soldiers on top of the coach, though they were as yet unaware of her presence. As her horse neared the right side of the coach, she again struck with her whip and tugged the soldier riding beside the driver off the coach. He landed hard and remained still. The driver, Pietro, finally saw her and his eyes widened in terror. He lashed the horses into a faster gallop.

Tessa dropped back even with the coach door, and carefully, moved from her saddle to grasp the door handles and swing across to hang onto the swaying coach. Chico ran along beside, keeping pace with the speeding coach. She hammered on the door, and as she expected, it opened and a soldier peered out. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out. He dropped onto the ground as the wheels hurtled by him. She slipped inside and quickly found what she had come for — a large bag of gold. Quickly she tied it onto her belt, and opened the door. Her horse was there, running smoothly alongside, waiting for her.

As she began to step across the open space, a shot suddenly splintered the door above her head. The shock made her lose her balance and she fell, narrowly missing the horse's hooves as he thundered past her. She rolled and stood up to see where the shot had come from, then ran toward the canyon wall. A man in a long dark coat was closing on her fast. She recognized the hunter and knew she had only seconds before he would catch up with her. He had another gun in his hand and was aiming it at her.

The first part of the ascent was fairly easy, and she had climbed a good distance before she chanced a look back to see him dismounting his horse. The explosion startled her as the bullet ricocheted off a rock near her shoulder, and sprayed her with small fragments. The reverberation of the gunshot died away, then she heard him bellow a loud laugh below her. Its echo mocked her and goaded her to climb faster.

"Queen of Swords," he shouted. The words bounced off the walls and came back to her several times. "Can you feel your heart beating in your ears? The terror and the thrill of the chase?"

"I'm so glad you're enjoying it, de Loggia!" she called back. "It's not quite as much fun from where I am." Without waiting for his answer, Tessa clawed at the rock and hauled herself up to the next handhold. She heard him laughing, the canyon walls magnifying the sound to almost a jeering chorus. In vexation, she picked up a rock and hurled it down at him. It bounced harmlessly away and he taunted her once more with his laughter.

"You won't give up easily, will you? A worthy quarry. I admire you. After I kill you, I will feel remorseful that my adversary is dead. I will drink a toast to your memory."

"Don't uncork the bottle yet, de Loggia," Tessa called back.

Her throat was dry and she licked her lips to moisten them. My canteen is full, but tied onto Chico's saddle, she thought regretfully. With a hard push of her foot, she reached for a handhold and managed to move up a few feet. The rock face was very steep, and her only consolation was that it was as difficult for her pursuer, and she had a head start. But he had a gun, as he reminded her with another shot that struck a little above her and started a small slide of stones onto her. She turned away as the pebbles rained down, and grimaced. Some of the grit had rolled into her boots. She could feel the discomfort as the stones made their way down to her feet. Damn! This is turning out to be a lot harder than I had expected. The weight of the gold was dragging at her as she continued to scale the rock wall.

From below, Tessa could hear the sound of her pursuer, scrabbling up the rocks and dislodging small cascades of stones as he tried to catch up with her. Now and then she could hear him chuckling, and then humming or whistling a tune. He had breath for that while her lungs hurt as she laboured against her ebbing strength. She glanced down and saw him uncapping his canteen. It reminded her how thirsty she was. She tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry, and her throat seemed full of grit.

"Are you thirsty, mi Reina? I have plenty of water. I will share it with you." He shook the canteen and she could hear the water sloshing against its sides. The canyon walls magnified all sounds, including the Rom curse she cast down at him along with another rock. His laughter resonated back up to her.

"I know who you are, Reina de Espadas," he bellowed. "You could not hide from me, not even behind a mask."

Tessa was intrigued. How could he know, unless he was just guessing? But she was curious. And it kept him busy talking while she continued to ascend inch by painful inch up the rocky slope. "You have no idea who I am, de Loggia. You are not that smart," she taunted.

"You think a mask can hide your identity? A trained eye sees past the camouflage, watches the gestures and traits, knows the scent of his prey. While Montoya and the soldiers fumble around trying to chase you, only I have managed to trap you. I could have got you anytime. At your hacienda, for instance. But that would not be sporting, would it? No, it is the hunt that brings the blood up, the thrill of the chase."

"You seem to have it all figured out. Who am I?" Tessa strained to listen, all her nerves taut as she waited to hear her name.

"Mona Aguilera!" he shouted, "You are the Queen of Swords."

She nearly lost her grip on the rock that was holding her up, as she tried to stifle a laugh. Mona? How in the world did he come up with her? Tessa nearly choked trying to control herself and lost her voice for several moments. Her foot scrambled for a hold and she leaned into the rock face, trying to compose herself. Of all the women in the pueblo, why Mona Aguilera? She recalled the hunter talking to the Aguileras. So he must have suspected her and decided to get closer for a better look. Why her, not me? Tessa wondered in illogical annoyance. She wanted to laugh again at the craziness of it, being jealous of Mona as a suspect by this monster who wanted to kill her. A cold feeling ran through her as she thought how Mona's life had been in danger from this stalker and the woman had not even known it.

"Nothing to say?" he yelled. "No last minute confessions before you die?"

"I'll take my secret with me to the grave," she rejoined. With the bit of rest, Tessa felt stronger and began to climb again. The top seemed a mile away, an almost impossible distance. She skirted around an outcropping where there seemed to be more large rocks for hand and foot holds.

De Loggia recapped the canteen and spent a few minutes reloading his pistols. No need to hurry. She wasn't going anywhere. He chuckled to himself as he filled the pan and checked the flint. He stuck the guns into his belt and began to climb after her. He had lost sight of her momentarily but he wasn't worried. There was nowhere to hide on that cliff face. Sooner or later she must appear and then he would have her. He laughed aloud and the sound echoed madly through the canyon.

A bullet smacked into the rocks beside her head, showering her hair with shards, stinging her cheek with a spray of sharp splinters. Tessa dared not look down. She clung fiercely to the little outcrop and struggled to find a foothold somewhere below her. The insubstantial rock face broke under her foot and sent a cascade of rocks rattling down toward the canyon floor. She panted with the exertion of hanging on and dragged herself up. Her foot connected with something solid and she rested for a few seconds.

From below she heard a deep laugh. "There's nowhere to go, your Majesty," he taunted. "Make it easy on yourself. I will not kill you. I just want the reward, and the honour of bringing you in." His voice echoed off the canyon walls, tormenting her with its reverberating promise.

Like hell you won't kill me, she thought. As soon as we're on solid ground again, you'll shoot me. She felt her strength ebbing away as she reached for another handhold and pushed up with her foot. Inch by inch, she climbed up the canyon wall. Another shot slammed near her foot, dislodging the rock she was balancing on. It slid from under her and she was suddenly hanging in space, with only her hands for support. She felt her fingers letting go and then she was sliding, slipping down the rock face. A ledge broke her fall, though she was dazed and winded for several long moments. Long enough for de Loggia to climb onto the ledge and hold a gun on her.

Tessa pushed herself to her feet, and staggered against the rock wall for support. "You know Montoya won't let you keep the reward, de Loggia. He'll kill you as soon as he's sure you have killed me. He's as treacherous as a snake. Maybe you didn't notice, but you were followed here. From up there," she said gesturing to where she had fallen from, "I saw them. Grisham's men are already climbing up here toward you. If I don't have a chance, neither do you."

De Loggia laughed shortly. He grinned wolfishly at her. "Do you think I'd trust Montoya? I'll take your body to Monterrey and collect the reward there. Then, I'll get on a ship for Spain, and became a hero of the Court. Who knows, the King might even give me a medal." The grin disappeared and he cocked the trigger of his pistol, aiming it at her heart. She dove at him and they struggled for the gun. He pushed her back against the cliff and slowly, inexorably, with his superior strength, he pushed the barrel toward her head.

Suddenly, Tessa's eyes widened in terror and she screamed, "Look out behind you! A puma!"

"Dying people will say anything to save themselves," he derided. He pulled the trigger. At that moment, the big cat landed on his back and the bullet whizzed by her ear, flattening on the rocks. The puma's hot breath singed her cheek as she fell with de Loggia still hanging onto her in a death-like grip. The mountain lion clutched him with its claws, snarling and raking him as Tessa tried to free herself from the hunter's grasp. His howls of anguish nearly froze her with dread. She finally pushed herself free and pulled her dagger and sword, preparing to kill the puma. A loud snap told her it was no use. The puma had broken the man's neck and his eyes stared sightlessly at her while the puma mauled him.

She moved toward the cat uncertainly, not knowing why she was doing it. To stop the creature from devouring the man? It snarled as she raised her sword preparing to strike. A sudden cry from the ledge stopped her.

"Aiyyee! A mountain lion," the soldier screamed. His black helmet disappeared again below the ledge.

Tessa heard Grisham's voice, shouting "Shoot the damn thing, you idiot!" Then his head appeared above the ledge with his pistol aimed at the puma. She ran down the ledge, and around an outcrop that concealed her from the soldiers. Several shots rang out, then a horrific scream echoed around the canyon. Its agony chilled her to the marrow, but she did not look back. The ledge ended at a precipice dropping straight down to the canyon floor with huge rocks at the bottom. The only way out was up. She started to climb again. Grisham's voice hailed her from very close by.

"You're wasting your energy trying to get away this time, your Majesty. Once you're at the top, there's nowhere else to go. And I have men waiting at the bottom. Make it easier on everyone, and give yourself up."

Just above was a fissure opened by some long ago earthquake. It was narrow but seemed to go all the way to the top of the cliff. She climbed into it and bracing herself against both sides, began to make painful progress toward the top. Her side ached from the fall, as did her shoulder. But she was hidden from the soldiers for now and a hard target to hit inside this narrow gap. When she arrived at the top, she would consider her options then. For now, the problem was having enough strength to make it. She rested frequently during the ascent, and finally saw the end of her toil. With agonizing slowness, she hauled herself over the edge and lay panting at the summit.

The view was amazing, even in her exhausted state. As far as she could see were ranges of cliffs, red, gold and orange in the dying light of the sun. Above the canyons, eagles soared and glided. Pulling up into a sitting position, she considered her next move. It was unlikely that Grisham had come up after her. More likely, he had gone back down to wait, thinking she must return the way she went up. There must be another way down from here, she thought. She paced along the rim of the cliff as close as she dared, searching for some way past the soldiers waiting on the canyon floor. How long would they wait? They had the advantage of time, and supplies. They had water.

There's no point in staying up here with no water, she decided. There was only one option, go back down a short distance from where she had come up and hope to get past them in the darkness. She let herself over the edge and began the descent. It was easier going down than coming up, but much more dangerous as she had to search for footholds with her boot before moving.

Dusk covered the canyons and it was nearly pitch-dark when she finally reached the bottom. Tessa tried to moisten her mouth to whistle for her horse. After a few attempts, she finally made a loud enough whistle to be heard for some distance. The sound would be amplified by the canyon. Was the horse still around? Would he hear her summons? She was dropping with weariness. The clip-clop of hooves coming toward her brought sudden tears to her eyes. Chico. The faithful horse. He trotted to her and stopped. She pulled the canteen from the saddle and drank deeply, saving some for her horse. Then, she replaced the canteen and dragged herself into the saddle. There was no sound of any soldiers and she urged Chico into a gentle trot.

As they rounded a curve in the trail, she saw them — camped around a fire, waiting. She kneed the horse into a fast gallop and they sped off past the soldiers. A chorus of shouts echoed after her and bullets whizzed by, much too close. A quick glance showed her several of the soldiers were mounting their horses. The pursuit did not last long as darkness made it impossible to see her and soon the soldiers had abandoned the chase. She slowed her mount and turned him toward the one place where she knew she was safe.

The horse seemed as weary as its rider as it picked its way through the narrow defile then out into the wide green meadow. The moonlight danced on a pool on the far side near the canyon wall. The horse ambled toward a small sod hut on the other side of the meadow without urging from its rider, then stopped. The rider slid off, staggered then using the sod wall for support, entered the little dwelling.

Suddenly, a match flared and touched light to a candle. Tessa reeled back from the unexpected brightness. The horrified look on Helm's face told her how she must appear - filthy, dishevelled, bleeding from numerous abrasions. She slumped against the wall, and began to laugh. It was a harsh, almost silent laugh, with an edge of hysteria. Helm moved to her side quickly and made her sit on the cot, the only other item of furniture besides a small makeshift table.

She tried to push him away, but he held her and she subsided against him. Her voice was hardly above a whisper as she said, "I came here to clean myself up so Marta wouldn't see me like this. I was trying to spare her, and avoid another lecture. And now I find you here. This just hasn't been my day." She began to laugh again, almost uncontrollably. She wiped her eyes and took several deep breaths to calm herself. "I thought we had settled this. Why are you here?"

Helm moved the tangled hair away from her face, his heart lurching at the sight of the blood on her cheek, the torn and dusty clothing. God almighty, he thought, what am I doing here? But he knew. "As I said before, the alternative was unthinkable," he said softly. As he pulled her closer, she gasped in pain. He shook his head in dismay.

Tessa lurched to her feet. "I'm going to bathe in the pond, and put on that gown. Then I'm going home. And pretend today was just a nightmare."

"I'll go with you to see that you get home safely."

"As you wish," she said tiredly, as she went out of the hut carrying the gown.

The sound of Chico's hoof beats receded, and in his mind, Helm followed her to that peaceful pool in the meadow. He imagined her stripping off her dark, tattered costume, then that lithe body slipping into the cold silvery embrace of the water.

Tessa plunged under the water and came up with a loud gasp. It was freezing, but she went under again and opened her eyes. She could see the full moon wobbling above through the distorting lens of the pool. All her wounds seemed to come alive at once in the bracing cold. They smarted and ached. She knew she should get out but needed to feel clean. If only I could wash those memories away too, she thought morosely. She surfaced and scrubbed at her hair, then rubbed gingerly over the rest of her body, trying to avoid the many abrasions from her fall. Finally, she climbed out and put on the gown. For several minutes, she remained staring at the faint glow coming from the hut across the meadow. And thought about the man waiting there for her. In spite of the damp coolness from the pond, a warmth spread through her. It's almost as if he knew I needed him tonight, she thought. After the terrors of the day, I need someone to hold me, and make me feel safe.

Helm glanced with a wry smile at the little feast he had set up on the rough wooden table. A bottle of wine, some cheese and a few apples. He drew the cork from the wine and set it aside. Moments later, Tessa entered, a very different woman from the battered wraith who had appeared earlier.

"Are we celebrating something, doctor?" she asked lightly.

Her hair was damp and the gown clung to her provocatively. It was obvious to Helm she was not wearing any corsets or other underclothing. His warm gaze brought the colour to her cheeks. She sat on the cot next to him. He poured them each glass of wine, then touched her glass in a toast.

"To life," he said simply, and took a large sip.

"To life? Well, I guess after today, it is something to celebrate." She moved to a more comfortable position with her back propped against the sod wall. "All day long, I've had people shooting at me. To escape I tried to climb up a rock face and fell a long way. I thought for sure, that time, I was finished. Then, I watched a man get mauled to death by a puma, and nearly got killed by it myself." She shuddered and looked away quickly as the horror of those terrifying moments rose again in her mind. "But here I am, still alive by some miracle." She gave him an wearied smile and said again "To life. And thank you for being here, doctor."

The encircling glow of the candlelight embraced them in its warmth, a pool of light and comfort against the encompassing darkness. She watched the dancing and flickering light play over the sharp planes of his face, softening them. Her hand nearly moved to touch his gaunt cheek but she held back. She was afraid of this intimacy. And her head felt light. Was it the warmth of his nearness or the wine?

"My name is Robert," he said with a wry grin. "Try using it."

She finished her wine and held out the glass for a refill. With some misgiving, Helm poured another full glass for her. The wine had restored her colour and her eyes shone in the candlelight. "Robert," she said experimentally. It purred in his ear, as she rolled the 'R's of his name. "Roberto," she said and chuckled, then took another long sip of her drink.

She's getting tipsy, Helm thought with amusement, on only two glasses of wine. He smiled and turned to the food he had laid out on the table. "Are you hungry?" When she didn't answer he looked back and saw her eyes were closed and her breasts rose and fell with the regular rhythm of sleep. Carefully, he laid her down on the cot and stretched out beside her. There was scarcely enough room for one, but he pulled her tightly to him and cradled her head on his shoulder. For a long time, he studied her face in repose. It seemed the dearest thing to him; he couldn't get enough of looking at her. Eventually, his own eyes grew heavy and he drifted into a sweet sleep beside his beloved.

Its yellow eyes burned from the darkness, its growl rent the air and froze her with terror. The hunter held her fast as he waited for the puma to strike at her. The beast sprang, gripping her with its claws, holding her fiercely as she struggled for her life. Its hot breath panted against her cheek. She screamed then broke free, and awoke, disoriented. The single candle was guttering on the table and the doctor was sitting on the floor.

A pair of angry eyes green glared up at her. "What the hell..." he began.

"What do you think you are doing?" Tessa realized she had awakened and pushed him off the cot onto the earth floor. She was shaken by the fact that he had been lying so near while she slept.

"Your virtue is uncompromised," Helm said, as he got up rubbing his backside ruefully. "You fell asleep and I stayed here to protect you. That is all that happened. On my honour." He stretched his taut back muscles, cramped from the confined sleeping space. In the heavy silence that followed, he could hear the crickets chirping in the meadow, an owl hooting somewhere nearby, and the horses stamping and shuffling just outside.

Tessa groaned as she moved off the cot. The bruises and strains of the previous day's adventures had become more painful now that she was awake and moving. "I feel as if every bone and muscle in my body is sore," she complained. "I can't wait to get home and into a warm bath." She smiled wistfully at the doctor. "I'm sorry I pushed you. I was only half awake and having a nightmare. I thought he still had hold of me."

"Who had hold of you."

"The hunter."

"Do you have a lot of nightmares?" Helm took her gently by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

She glanced away evasively. "Sometimes." She shivered in the early morning chill now that the body heat that had warmed her was gone. She wished he would warm her again with his long body. She also wished she had not pushed him away. He comes back each time, but for how long. I don't want to push him away any longer. But what else can I do?

Tessa heaved a sigh and said, "I must go. Marta will be worried."

Seeing her trembling, Helm pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Wear this until we get to your hacienda. I'm seeing you safely there. No arguments." He pulled a stern face then cracked a wry grin as her chin came up indignantly. With an impetuous move, he suddenly embraced her. He nuzzled against her neck and whispered in her ear. "Of course, now that we've slept together, you'll have to marry me." He chuckled at the flash in her eyes, and her ineffectual struggles to get free. "My virtue has been compromised."

With his free hand, he turned her face up to his and kissed her lightly. Experimentally, he slid his tongue along her mouth and to his delight, felt her lips part. She sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around his waist.

She felt all her senses enlivened at once as the kiss deepened. A firestorm of sensation raced through her as she felt his tongue enter her mouth to play with and tease hers. She pulled him closer, enjoying the feel of his body so close, so warm. Something in the back of her mind warned her to hold back, to stop. Not this time, she told that voice. She pushed up his shirt to feel the smooth skin of his back, the hardness of the muscles that seemed so fluid under her touch. He moved with her caress, and groaned softly. She loved the sound. He was aroused by her though she had little experience with lovemaking. Suddenly, he stopped and began to move away.

"What is it?" Tessa asked breathlessly.

"Am I your first..." he managed to say, dreading the answer. She nodded; a bright flush rose to her cheeks. "Then I can't do this. You should be married. It should be your husband." His breathing was ragged and he seemed unsteady as he pushed away from her.

She captured his hand in both of hers, and restrained him. A slow smile spread over her face and she replied, "It will be." She pressed his hand against her cheek. "I, Maria Teresa, take you, Robert, to be my husband." She held her breath as the doctor gasped slightly in shock. Then he grinned.

"I, Robert, take you, Maria Teresa to be my wife."

She opened his hand and kissed the palm, pressing it once more against her cheek. "We're married. Marta once told me marriage is a vow between a couple and God. The rest is just formality and paperwork."

"Marta is a wise woman," Helm said against her ear as he enfolded her to his chest. "We'll do the formalities and paperwork later. But now..." He slid his mouth over hers again, and drank deeply of its sweetness, then to the column of her throat, to the pulse under her jaw, down to her bare shoulder. "I want to show you how much I love you."

Her fingers began to unbutton his shirt, and he waited until she had finished and let her push the material aside. She traced lightly over his chest with her hand, then with her mouth. Laying her head against his chest, she heard his heart hammering against her ear. Like her own. She moved her lips to his neck and found the rapid pulse near its base and placed a kiss there. He gripped her more tightly, and kissed her fiercely, bearing them both down onto the cot. She heard herself moan as his hand touched her breast, caressing the hardened tip. An aching sweetness spread through her, a demand and a promise. She felt him fumbling with the laces that held the bodice together, and with a shy smile, unlaced them for him. He parted the material and pushed it off her shoulders. Without hesitation, she helped him.

She heard him sigh, "My god, you're beautiful" as he traced his fingers over her brow and cheek where the mask had been. No more masks, no more pretense, she vowed as his lips and hands began their ardent exploration of her body.

"Mi esposo, reine de mi corazon," she whispered, my husband, king of my heart.

A faint line of silver streaked the horizon, as two riders approached the villa. They rode close, knee to knee, holding hands across their mounts. About a half mile from the villa, they stopped. The man leaned across to embrace the woman in a lingering kiss. With seeming reluctance, he moved back, lightly touching her cheek. Then, he turned his horse and headed back down the trail. The woman watched for a long time, a wistful smile upon her face. When he was out of sight, she nudged her horse forward and cantered toward the courtyard of the villa.

Epilogue

Montoya stood at his office window studying the busy town plaza. Always colourful, always in motion, like a kaleidoscope. The view brought him no joy today, as he surveyed his little kingdom. With the hunter gone, everything was back to normal. The same boring little dramas playing themselves out on the tiny stage of his pueblo, he mused as he watched the ceaseless activity below. There is Señora Hidalgo making a secret assignation with Grisham, each trying to pretend they hardly know the other. And there is Señorita Alvarado speaking to the doctor in a hopeless quest to gain his affection. As usual, he spurns her, and she sighs sadly and turns to her Gypsy companion for solace. And the doctor waits for nightfall in hopes the Queen will come to his rooms to share a few illicit hours. Montoya compressed his lips grimly. It is all so boringly repetitious, he thought. Nothing ever seems to change here.

But Montoya did not hear the words spoken between the doctor and the señorita. Or see the radiance of her smile as she whispered, 'tonight' while he nodded, and passed her in seeming indifference.

THE END

©The Hunter - Maril Swan - April 2001

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