Blindman's Bluff
A child's game where the blindfolded player tries to guess who they are touching

As he rode in silence by her side, he glanced at her now and then, not knowing what to say. They had almost become lovers but now she seemed so distant she might as well have been on another planet. He opened his mouth several times to speak and closed it again. The words he tried to voice seemed all wrong. Finally he said, "I'm sorry." Seconds passed without a response. More loudly, he said again, "I'm sorry."

"The wound did not impair my hearing, Doctor. I heard you the first time." She gave him a coolly critical look and turned back to stare ahead at the trail. What did he have to be sorry about? Tessa's thoughts turned back to the hazy events of the last two days.

Tessa remembers...

Grisham and his men had been more relentless than ever, driving her further than she had been before, into the badlands. At least the hail of bullets had stopped as the Queen of Swords managed to put more distance between herself and the soldiers. It seemed like hours before she dared to turn around to see if they were still pursuing her. With relief, she noted the flat prairie was empty; no dust clouds marred the horizon.

Tessa slid off Chico's back and pulled her canteen from the saddle. The tepid water felt so good going down her dry throat. Guiltily, she thought of her horse. He must be thirsty too. She cupped her hand and poured some water into it and offered it to him. The horse slurped at it noisily as Tessa continued to refill her hand over and over. The water was nearly gone. And she was far from the hacienda.

All she could see were cactus and brush, and the distant mountains. If I retrace my trail, they may be waiting for me, she thought, recalling a similar incident not long ago when Corporal Garcia had captured her. I won't make that mistake again, she reassured herself.

Scanning the horizon, she looked for any landmarks that she could ride toward. She didn't recognize anything. With a sinking feeling, she realized she was lost. Chico's trail is still fresh, so I'll have to take my chances on that, she decided. I'll walk him for a while, poor fellow. He's had a hard day. Tessa took the reins and began to lead the horse as she followed his hoof marks in the hard earth. Anxiety roiled in her stomach as she noted the long shadows on the ground. The sun will be setting soon, she realized, and I won't be able to see the trail. I may have to stay out here all night. Marta will be worried but she knows I will be all right. I have been gone all night before.

Suddenly, Chico reared, pulling her off balance and she fell. She felt a sharp pain in her leg, then her head hit the ground and all was blackness.

Helm remembers...

He dismounted and nodded toward Pancho, a young peon who worked on the Alvarado hacienda. As he strode toward the house, Helm saw Marta seated on the verandah. A smile creased his face as he closed the distance. He liked Marta; she was a kindred spirit, unlike her mistress. "Buenos dias, Marta," he said as he pulled off his hat.

Immediately, he sensed something was amiss. Her usual sharp reply never came, nor did she seem pleased to see him. In fact, her eyes were anxious and red-rimmed as if she had not slept. "Is there something wrong, Marta? Maybe I can help. Is the señorita sick? Where is Señorita Alvarado anyway? Out gallivanting around while others are working?" He meant his question to be a jest, and was not prepared for the violence of her reaction.

"What do you know about her? You know nothing!" Marta snapped at him sharply and got up to move swiftly away.

He caught up to her and stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Tell me what's wrong." Just then, a shout from the stableyard caused them to turn.

Pancho came running up to Marta, panting with excitement. "Marta, the señorita's horse has come back ... without her!"

In a flash, Marta was running toward the stables. It took Helm a second to react, then he dashed after her. They arrived at the same time to view the spavined horse, dusty and weary as it grunted and ambled toward them. Marta's face paled as she looked at the empty saddle. Barely audibly, she said, "Take care of the horse, Pancho." She waited until the boy had led Chico away, then said to Helm, "Now you know what is wrong. She did not come home last night."

"I'll go into town and get Grisham and his men to organize a search party. We'll find her, Marta," he said reassuringly.

She gripped his arm firmly as he turned toward his horse. "No! You cannot tell anyone she is missing."

Marta had nearly laughed at the idea of Grisham searching for Tessa. It was because of him that Tessa was missing. Carefully, Marta said, "Did you hear anything last night about the Queen of Swords?"

The question was such a non sequitur that Helm was at a loss for a few seconds. Then, it made sense and his scalp prickled with the realization of what she was suggesting. A tight band seemed to have wound itself around his chest and he was having a hard time getting his breath to answer her. Finally, he said, "Grisham and his men came back late last night. I tended a few saddlesores, nothing serious. The men told me they had chased her nearly all day and finally had to give up. They were in the badlands without any provisions."

She said something under her breath that sounded like a prayer or an imprecation. Helm couldn't tell as it was in a language he didn't know. But he could see by her ashen face that she was already beginning to mourn her loss. Her eyes were hopeless as she gazed out across the hilly lands of the hacienda.

"I'll go after her, Marta. I may be able to follow her horse's trail back to her. I'm sure she's all right. The horse might have spooked and thrown her. I'll find her." He didn't add that his training in His Majesty's Secret Service included tracking. He had been trained by an expert during a brief tour of duty in the Canadas – an Algonquin scout. He wished heartily that his Indian mentor was with him now. "Help me get some provisions, Marta and I'll get started."

"I'll go with you," Marta said quickly, a sudden hope arising in her eyes.

"Someone has to be here in case anyone comes around looking for Tessa. We don't want to arouse any suspicions."

Marta nodded and began to walk toward the house. Her step was more confident as she thought with renewed hope, maybe he can find her. She has been through tough spots before and returned home safely. Maybe he will find her and bring her back to me.

Tessa remembers...

She heard someone scream in pain — it seemed to echo forever in her head. Who was it? In the velvet blackness that enveloped like a warm blanket, she felt safe, comforted. Ahead was a dim light and she started towards it. As she closed the distance, it became brighter, and shadowy figures hovered like wraiths just inside the light. She knew them and tried to hurry forward, her arms outstretched to embrace them. "Mama, Papa," she cried out, but her legs seemed leaden suddenly and her progress was hampered by some force that held her back. Even as she struggled against the constraint, the shadows moved away, fading into the light. Somewhere, someone was crying. Who was it? She heard another scream and it shocked her as she tried to imagine who was in such pain.

The scent of smoke and other harsh odours assailed her as she became aware that she was not alone. Voices murmured in a strange language nearby. She tried to open her eyes and could not. A hand lifted her head and a cup touched her lips. She forced her dry mouth open to accept the drink. She was so thirsty. When the fluid touched her tongue, she struggled to close her mouth. It was too bitter. Marta, she thought angrily, you didn't put any honey into the medicine this time. I won't take it! The hand relentlessly forced the medicine into her mouth and she swallowed it, gagging on its bitterness. The struggle had taken all her strength. She drifted back into the abysmal darkness.

A cool cloth touched her forehead and a woman's voice reached her. The woman was singing something in a strange language that sounded like an incantation or prayer. It was gentle and soothing. Tessa opened her eyes to see a dark face smiling widely at her. The woman was dressed in colourful clothing, marked by painted designs, and around her neck she wore beads and feathers woven into an intricate and beautiful necklace. Her dark eyes were soft like a doe's. The woman moved to pick up a gourd, and placed it at Tessa's lips.

Tessa tried to move her head away. She remembered the distasteful liquid that had been poured into her mouth before. But the woman lifted the gourd and took a sip herself, then smiled reassuringly. She offered it again, and with a tentative taste, Tessa found it was only clear water. She drank thirstily and sighed with gratitude. She looked around at her surroundings. It was dark inside and above she saw the rock ceiling. She realized she was in a cave. But how had she got here?

A man's voice attracted her attention to the entrance of the cave. He was of medium height, strongly built and dressed in a similar costume to that of the woman. He spoke to the Indian woman and she replied in her staccato tongue, then nodded her head vigorously and laughed. Tessa assumed they were talking about her, but could not understand anything that was said. The man moved past the woman and squatted beside Tessa.

He gave her a very pleased grin, and said in Spanish, "You have been walking with your ancestors, señorita. I was afraid you were going to remain with them. The Great Spirit has let you return to fulfill your destiny."

For a second, Tessa was too astonished at hearing him speaking her language to reply. Then she asked, "Where am I? What happened to me?"

His soft eyes contemplated her for a moment. "You were bitten by a rattlesnake. The poison is often fatal, but one of our men found you in time. He tied your handkerchief above the bite, and sucked out the poison. Some of it must have remained in your body. You also hit your head on the ground when you fell."

"I am grateful, señor Indio. How long have I been here?"

"Two nights, two days," he replied. "This is the first time you have been awake since you came to us. Unfortunately, your horse ran off before we could catch him. But when you are stronger, we will return you to your home."

A sudden worry nudged its way into her mind. Did they know about the Queen of Swords? Her mask was gone and she realized by the scratchiness of the colourful woven blanket that covered her, so were most of her clothes.

Almost as if reading her mind, he said, "I know your secret, señorita. But we keep to ourselves out here. We care nothing for the towns of the white man. I learned to speak your language at the mission, but I ran away and joined these people. We are peaceful but we want nothing to do with the Spanish or their three terrible gods." He got up and beamed on her with his gentle smile. "Do not worry, Señorita Reina. No one else knows about you, but me. I will keep your secret. Now, you should rest."

In spite of his recommendation to rest, Tessa's mind whirled with anxious thoughts and rest would not come. She worried about Marta. She must think I'm dead by now. I've never been away this long. Not since the time I was kidnapped. And what about Vera and others. If they come to visit, what will Marta say? I must get out of here and get back home.

Tessa began to push off the blanket to get up, but a hand restrained her and a voice softly but firmly spoke to her. She realized she was not going anywhere just yet. Maybe under the cover of darkness, she could slip away from this benevolent imprisonment. The woman who restrained her was the same one who had been singing. Tessa assumed she must be a female shaman or healer. The woman gave her another gourd to drink from and this contained the bitter medicine she had tried to reject. With an ill will, she swallowed it, then laid back down. A sudden lassitude overcame her, and she wondered as she drifted off, what else was in that concoction.

Helm remembers...

The trail was still easily visible even to an untrained eye. Helm cantered along, his eyes fixed on the hoof prints, as he rode further into the badlands. So far, he hadn't seen another soul. Tessa's horse cantered behind him, his reins tied to Helm's saddle. At length, the prints stopped, and scuff marks on the ground suggested a sort of struggle. He got down to examine the earth more closely. There was a rusty spot on a rock. With a sudden chill, he recognized it as blood. She must have fallen from her horse. Something had scared it. But what? A puma, a coyote, a sidewinder? Where was she now?

Carefully, he stepped around the area, searching for footprints. He widened his search and was rewarded with a new set of hoof prints leading toward the distant mountains. So, he deduced, someone, not wearing boots obviously due to the lack of footprints, must have picked her up and taken her into those mountains on his horse. He smiled broadly to himself. A great relief spread through him as he realized he was near the end of his quest. He would find her. The elation deflated almost immediately as he wondered if he would find her still alive.

To give the horse a break from his weight, Helm led the horse along the well-marked trail. He had not gone far before a group of riders appeared in the distance from direction of the mountains. Indians! There was no choice but to wait for them. He continued walking steadily forward and soon they drew up and began to gesture at him. They were colourfully dressed and carrying weapons. A hunting party, Helm thought. What were they hunting?

From their hand gestures and rapid speech, he assumed they wanted him to follow them. He remounted his horse and joined their group.

Tessa remembers...

The excited sounds reached her and she opened her eyes. It was evident something unusual was happening among these quiet people. Tessa drew the blanket around herself and tried to stand. The effort seemed beyond her strength. She remained sitting and waited while a group entered the cave. Among them was the one person she had never expected to see. Doctor Helm!

He spied her immediately, and strode over to her quickly. He squatted beside her and grinned into her eyes with a look that warmed her. He was actually glad to see her! She glanced away to hide the sudden tears that threatened behind her eyes.

For a long moment, Helm said nothing, then took her hand. "You can't imagine how relieved I am to see you." The words were soft as if his heart were in them. He touched her cheek to turn her head so he could see her eyes. She resisted and he said in a somewhat impatient tone, "I should see to your wounds. The shaman told me you had suffered a severe fall and a rattlesnake bite. Either could have been fatal." His words had the sting of a reprimand.

"What does not destroy me, makes me stronger," Tessa said with a haughty look.

Helm laughed. Nothing has damaged her spirit, he thought wryly. "I'd better look at the snake bite first. Where is it?" He took hold of the blanket and began to pull it away.

She tightened her grip on it and said indignantly, "Doctor! There are a dozen people standing around watching us. My wound has been tended to just fine." Her face flushed hotly as she watched him grinning at her.

"That didn't seem to bother you before."

"I was unconscious before. Now, if you would find my clothes for me, we can go home."

With a resigned sigh, he arose and handed her the saddlebag he had carried in. "Marta sent these along ... in case I found you. You might have asked me how she was." He turned on his heel and strode away, pushing through the group that stood gaping at her.

Tessa opened the leather satchel and found a skirt, a blouse and some fresh linens. She smiled at Marta's thoughtfulness, warmed by the reminder of the love of her friend. Dr. Helm was right, she thought guiltily. My first thought was for him, not Marta.

She looked up at the Indian woman who had been tending her and gestured to the clothes, then the group in the cave. At first, the woman didn't understand what she wanted, then she grinned and began to push the people out of the cave, with an unrelenting chatter of her strange language. The woman came back and helped Tessa as she unsteadily stood up and began to dress.

As she rode by Helm's side, Tessa wondered again what he was sorry about. It nagged at her curiosity and finally she had to ask. "What did you mean, 'I'm sorry'? Sorry for what?" Her voice sounded harsher than she meant it to be.

He glanced at her in annoyance and almost said, I'm sorry I found you. What did I expect? She would throw herself into my arms in an ecstasy of gratitude? Her pride is hurt and I haven't helped to heal it, only abraded it more. Somehow, everything I say seems to rub her the wrong way. Instead he said, "Forget it. Let's just get you back to your hacienda. Marta has been frantic with worry. Though that doesn't seem to concern you overmuch, does it?" He felt like biting his tongue as that last slipped out.

She pulled herself up more rigidly in the saddle as her chin lifted and she took a deep breath. "What do you know about my feelings?" She turned on him with a fierce glare. "They've never concerned you overmuch." With that, she kneed the horse into a canter, preventing any further conversation.

Helm hung back for a second, stung by her words. It was true. He had always treated Maria Theresa cavalierly. His finer feelings were reserved for her alter-ego, the Queen. Without thinking, he had reverted back to his disdainful manner with her, even though he now knew they were one and the same. Was there no way to get back the easy relationship he had built with the Queen? His mind was in turmoil as he urged his horse to follow hers. How was he to resolve this dilemma?

THE END

©Blindman's Bluff - Maril Swan - April 2001

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