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

Acknowledgment: Thanks to Terry, Eliza and Li for beta reading this story and helping to make it better.

Chapter Seven - The Game is Afoot

The ballroom of the Grand Hotel was filled to capacity. All the fencing competitors and their guests were seated at banquet tables arranged in rows. Tessa glanced around as she entered the room, gazing at the ornately painted ceiling, below which hung an array of crystal chandeliers. They shimmered in the air currents and lit up the room gaily. She could feel the festive atmosphere that permeated the assemblage as she made her way to the head table where she had been invited to sit beside the Viceroy. Many people halted her progress to congratulate her, and she smiled graciously as she thanked them.

Eventually, she found her place at the head table and sat down. Before her, silver cutlery gleamed on the immaculate white linen of the cloth. A glass of red wine standing near her plate caught the sparkle of the candles that blazed above in the chandeliers. Everything seemed radiant, almost surreal as she sat waiting for the arrival of the Viceroy and the formal meal to begin.

She heard people shuffling to their feet and then saw the Viceroy making his entrance from a side door into the ballroom. She stood with the others as she watched him walk pompously toward the head table with a woman on his arm. 'He must love these state occasions,' she thought as she took in his elegant formal attire. He wore a dark blue military tunic draped with gold braid and medals. At his side, a short decorative sword swung in time with his measured strides. His white trousers were embellished with a narrow strip of black satin. Pinned to his immaculate white shirt was a black cravat.

His wife smiled at several people as they passed. Her small frame seemed engulfed by a voluminous mauve dress, with large puffy sleeves and a deep decolletage. Together they made an impressive pair.

The Viceroy and his wife moved to their places at the table. Further along from Tessa was an elderly priest, obviously of high rank in the Church, judging by his raiment. Before everyone resumed their seats, the Viceroy toasted the King and Queen of Spain, and the bishop gave a blessing for the meal.

Tessa was seated on the Viceroy's right, his wife on his left. The bishop was placed to the right of the Viceroy's wife. Her own seat partner was a high ranking official in the Monterrey government. The remaining places at the table were occupied by the other three finalists who were also awarded medals and the top officials from the competition. Since Montoya had taken fourth place he was seated some distance away, but his presence unnerved her. 'Still,' she decided, 'at least I can see him if he leaves'. She knew nothing would happen until the Viceroy and his wife left the festivities and returned home.

Course after course of sumptuous foods were brought in by elegantly dressed servers and presented with grace and courtesy to the guests. Tessa ate little. Now that the contest was over, her nerves were drawn tight as bowstrings as she conceived and discarded plan after plan to save the Viceroy from an assassination attempt.

He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, oblivious to the danger that lurked so near. Now and then, he turned to ask her a question about her background. She made up a convincing story about herself including an anecdote about the scar which seemed to impress him.

As the evening wore on, the noise in the room grew in volume. Conversation was convivial as the wine flowed freely and the din rose to a loud rumble. The Viceroy had imbibed liberally and was in a mellow, affable mood as he joked with her about various members of Monterrey society, most of whom she had never heard of. 'He would be a real hit at the Spanish Court,' she thought wryly, 'with his endless supply of salacious gossip.'

Tessa wondered what he knew about Santa Elena and asked a few carefully phrased questions. His answers showed that the territory occupied a very small place in the Viceroy's world view. When she asked if he had ever heard of the Queen of Swords, he snorted contemptuously.

"Who has not?" He glared down the table at Montoya who was engaged in conversation and did not see the coldness in the Viceroy's eyes. "Imagine that upstart asking me for more men and arms to catch one woman," he said in a lowered tone, nodding toward Montoya. "Preposterous! I will tell him so at our meeting later tonight." He turned to Tessa with a tight look. "I have pirates attacking all along the coast, banditos raiding villages and haciendas, Mission Indios rebelling and escaping. And he has one lone bandita to cope with. My resources are already spread too thinly." The Viceroy drew in a long-suffering sigh and patted her arm. "Between us, I am very glad Montoya did not win. I even placed a small wager on you."

She chuckled and said, "Between us, Your Excellency, so am I. And I'm glad you won your wager."

The town clock had just struck eleven when the Viceroy rose and pulled back his wife's chair to assist her from her place. The entire assembly stood courteously. Though an orchestra played and many were dancing, this seemed to signal the end of the evening. The vice-regal couple linked arms and moved gracefully to the side exit from the room.

As soon as they were gone, Tessa got up and left through the front exit of the ballroom. Quickly she crossed the hotel mezzanine and pushed through the double doors to the outside. As a rush of cool air met her, she inhaled gratefully. The ballroom had been hot and stuffy, a miasma of mingled scents – strong colognes and perfumes, food smells and cigar smoke. She ran down the wide steps toward a wagon parked down the street a short distance and nodded to the driver who sat slumped over, a brown felt top hat on his head and a dark cloak covering him completely. Climbing up onto the bench, she turned to watch the hotel.

Only a few minutes elapsed before a stately carriage emerged from behind the hotel and entered the broad avenue. On the side of the carriage was a coat of arms. The coach was pulled by a handsome matched pair of black horses, and a feeble light from its lamps lit its way down the street. The curtains were drawn as the carriage passed the wagon.

Tessa waited a minute until the other conveyance was some distance ahead, then she said, "Follow that coach." The driver, snapped the whip over the team of horses and they started smartly forward. "Keep back, Marta, so they don't know they're being followed, but don't lose them. I don't know where the Viceroy lives so we have to keep that carriage in sight."

The lights of the city dimmed as they left the commercial area and entered a district of stately homes. On either side of the avenue, tall graceful trees arched over the road. Lamps lit the entrances to the estates they passed as they followed the Viceroy's coach at a discreet distance. Finally, the carriage swept to the left through high iron gates and into a long curving drive to an elegant mansion.

The entrance was guarded by a pair of stone lions, causing Tessa to remark with a short laugh, "Montoya would be right at home here."

Marta drove the wagon past the gates and continued down the road then pulled off to the side and stopped. Tessa jumped off, first picking up a small pack from the bench.

She whispered, "Go back to our hotel and wait for me there. I'll make my own way back."

A sliver of moon fitfully illumined the street and she could see Marta shaking her head. Marta said, "I will wait here for you. No one will notice me under these trees."

Tessa was about to protest but realized from experience Marta would not be moved. "All right, then," she said earnestly, "but whatever happens, whatever you hear, don't try to come into the grounds. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Slinging the pack over her back, Tessa slipped across the road toward the high hedge that shielded the mansion from view. It was an easy matter to find a gap in the leafy border small enough for her to gain entry to the grounds. Staying close to the hedge, Tessa surveyed the area, looking for guards, or worse, guard dogs. From her covert about a hundred yards from the building, she could see two guards patrolling back and forth in front of the wide steps leading to the mansion doors.

The grounds in front were well lit by torches near the drive and at the portico that sheltered the elaborate entrance. Using the hedge bushes as a cover, Tessa moved toward the rear of the building. There were few trees on the wide expanse of lawn which prevented her from approaching from the front or sides of the mansion. She hoped to get in through a rear door. Other than that, Tessa had no plan yet devised. She would play it as it happened.

Suddenly, it seemed from nowhere a hand wrapped around her mouth and dragged her back, while the other hand groped inside her jacket, feeling her breast. A deep voice laughed in her ear. "I thought so. A woman!"

Tessa jabbed hard with her elbow, connecting with his ribs and he let go with a pained grunt. In an instant she had her sword in hand and smote him across the temple with the hilt. He dropped like a stone and lay motionless. Quickly, Tessa pulled off her cravat and used it to tie his hands behind him. As she turned him over, she was astonished to see the handsome face of Señor Catalano. 'What is he doing here?' she wondered. 'Is he part of the plot too?'

He groaned and began to struggle as consciousness returned. Tessa stuffed her linen handkerchief into his mouth. She leaned to his ear and said quietly, "I wouldn't make a lot of noise if I were you. Guards are apt to shoot first and ask questions after." She patted him on the cheek as he wrestled with his bonds. "I'll be back a little later to free you if you're a good boy." Glancing around furtively, Tessa moved off toward the house, keeping low and near the hedge.

The tall hedgerow ended and a high iron fence began. In the dim light of the moon, Tessa could see the fence marched all the way down the rolling grounds behind the mansion to the sea. An extensive and well-kept garden covered most of the lawn, in the centre of which was a splashing fountain. A garden path meandered through the shrubs and flowers.

Behind the mansion, only the faint moonlight showed the outlines of the grounds. The windows on this side of the building were all in darkness. Tessa opened the pack, and divesting herself of the male attire she had worn that evening, she put on her black silk blouse and lace mask, then tied the red silk scarf around her waist. With a wry smile she lifted the corset out, then put it back in the pack with the rest of her discarded clothes. 'Sorry, Marta,' she thought, 'I don't have time for that tonight.'

Using the lotion Señor Reverte had provided, Tessa removed the fake scar, and then peeled off the false moustache and beard. She smiled to herself. 'I'm glad to be rid of that disguise finally,' she thought as she placed the things in the pack. 'It's a relief to be myself again. Or one of my selves.'

She slung the pack over her shoulder, adjusted her scabbard to make the sword easily available to hand and began to move toward the house, leaving the cover of the bushes.

She crept through the garden to a large terrace and climbed over its stone balustrade. Avoiding the many benches and chairs, she made her way to a pair of French doors and paused to listen. So far, no unusual sounds met her ears. With a quick twist of the handle she opened one of the doors. The dark room beyond must be a library, she decided, as she slipped inside and closed the door. The scent of old books assailed her nostrils – that and the stale odour of cigars.

Furtively, Tessa moved through the library to a door and leaned against it to listen. For a long while, she heard nothing. She sighed resignedly. It might be a long wait before Montoya arrived. Hardly had she thought this when she heard voices coming down the corridor outside the room. One voice she knew only too well. His voice grew louder, more distinct as he came closer.

"I must thank you, Your Excellency, for seeing me at this late hour. I am returning early tomorrow to my territory."

"Come into the library, Colonel Montoya. I never discuss anything at this hour without a glass of brandy in my hand." Laughter accompanied this remark, but Tessa was not sure whose it was.

Quick as a cat, Tessa rushed across the room to find a hiding place. What luck that they should be coming into the library! She pressed herself behind some heavy drapes just as the door opened and a servant appeared carrying a candle. He immediately walked to the far side of the room and used the candle to light a candelabra on the huge mahogany desk.

The room lightened to disclose tall shelves laden with books, an ornate marble fireplace with an ornamental rococo-like mantle and several well-used and comfortable-looking easy chairs. From behind the drape, Tessa could faintly see the three figures in the room. She recognized Montoya immediately.

While she watched, the servant went to a sideboard and poured two large snifters of brandy, handing them to the other two men. He then left the room, politely bowing before he closed the doors.

"Your Excellency...," Montoya began, only to be cut off by the Viceroy.

"I know what you have come to ask, Colonel. I have read your despatches, and frankly, I am not convinced of your need for more men and arms. And what in heaven's name do you need a cannon for? Do you think the Queen will hold still long enough for you to aim it and shoot her?" He laughed heartily at his own witticism.

"The cannon, Your Excellency, would be placed near our harbour to defend our shores against pirates."

Tessa could hear the edge of impatience in Montoya's voice. Her stomach clenched as she listened, waiting for the cue that might presage the assassination she was here to prevent. Her chest was tight with controlling her anxious breathing, and she kept swallowing to moisten her dry throat.

"I have a large territory, and the Queen of Swords is not the only bandit I have to cope with. We have cattle thieves, and rogues of all kinds roaming the countryside. No one is safe. With such a small garrison and such outdated weapons, we cannot keep order in the territory. The dons complain of the banditry, then refuse the extra taxes to pay for more men and arms. That is why I am appealing to you, Your Excellency, in the name of the King, for help in maintaining order in the colonies."

Though she could not see him, Tessa recognised the smooth persuasive tones that Montoya used to appease the dons and rationalize his crimes. It was the same tone he had used when promising to review the case of her father's manservant prior to having the man executed before her very eyes. Carefully, she drew in a deep breath as her hand crept toward her sword. Her whole body was tense as she waited for Montoya to make his move.

Suddenly, the library door burst open and Colonel Ignacio da Silva strode in. He closed the door immediately and leaned against it.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Colonel da Silva?" The Viceroy's voice rose in alarm. "What are you doing with that pistol?"

"I am taking control back into the hands of the people," da Silva shouted as he raised the pistol to aim at the Viceroy.

At that moment, Tessa threw back the drape and cried, "No! Watch out, Your Excellency!" A shot fired as the Viceroy dove to one side. He cried out in pain as he fell to the floor.

Behind her, the French doors smashed as someone slammed into them, propelling himself into the room. A second shot erupted into the chaos, and Colonel da Silva collapsed with a scream. Blood began to pump from a hole in his temple.

Montoya rushed her, shouting, "Get her! She tried to assassinate the Viceroy!"

For a moment, Tessa was too overcome by the events to react, but the sight of Montoya with a sword coming at her, galvanized her into action. She easily fended him off while backing toward the shattered doors. A quick glance at the man who had smashed his way in revealed Señor Catalano. He was bent over the Viceroy who seemed to be alive and only slightly wounded.

Montoya battered her sword with manic determination but she parried smoothly and finally, got under his defence, delivering a blow to his jaw with her hilt that staggered him. With his guard down, he was vulnerable and Tessa considered making that final thrust ...but she could not. Instead, she gave him a hard shove, toppling him to the floor near da Silva and rushed out onto the terrace. She ran lightly toward the hedge and stopped to listen. There was no pursuit, not yet.

She could not leave until she was sure the Viceroy was safe. Catalano had been lurking in the bushes outside the mansion. Why? Was he part of the plot? Carefully, Tessa retraced her steps and crept onto the terrace, staying out of the light. She stood beside the door outside. In the room, many people seemed to talking excitedly at once. Above the din, she could make out Catalano's voice.

"Don't just stand there! Go and get a doctor for the Viceroy." He was obviously directing a servant or a soldier. "Are you all right, Your Excellency?"

"My shoulder," the Viceroy gasped. "It is on fire. Get me a brandy. I feel faint." The shuffling of feet came clearly to Tessa as she leaned near the door.

Catalano's tone seemed to harden. "Colonel Montoya, why did you shoot that man? We might have been able to question him, get him to tell us who his accomplices were."

"Señor Catalano," Montoya answered with asperity. "I do not answer to you for my actions. I was protecting the Viceroy. What are you doing in this room?"

"Colonel Montoya, this man is an agent of the Spanish Crown. He has been tracking down traitors for many years. Since the war, we have known about someone of high rank in the Spanish army who was giving away military secrets to the French." The Viceroy subsided into a chair with a heavy groan.

Catalano spoke again. "We finally got a break a few months ago when one of his confederates confessed and gave us a name. Da Silva. I traced him to Alta California and was just in time to find out he had made arrangements to meet someone here in Monterrey for this particular time. The fencing contest gave him an excuse to leave his post for a few days."

A new voice entered the room. "Excuse me, Colonel."

Montoya snapped, "What is it, Sergeant?"

"We managed to capture three of Colonel da Silva's men."

Catalano laughed suddenly. "Good! Bring them in here for questioning."

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sergeant said, "They resisted and are dead, señor. The others escaped."

A blasphemous curse flew from Catalano's lips. Tessa cringed a little, feeling her face colour at such language. Then Catalano said impatiently, "Where is that doctor?"

Tessa had heard enough to be convinced that the Viceroy was safe. As she was about to leave she heard Montoya state, "Now you see, Your Excellency, why I need more men and arms. You are not safe from the Queen of Swords even in your own home. She does not scruple at any crime, even the assassination of the King's representative. You read my report on the death of Ambassador Ramirez?"

"Yes, yes, Colonel," the Viceroy said weakly. "I will give the matter more consideration."

Stealthily, Tessa made her way back to the cover of the hedges and slipped underneath, heading for the wagon. She was burning with fury. Montoya had cleverly implicated her in the night's deviltry and the Viceroy seemed to subscribe to his interpretation. Ahead she saw her wagon and whistled softly. The wagon turned and started down the road toward her.

Chapter Eight - A Man of Mystery

Tessa was instantly awake. As the fog of sleep lifted, she forced her tired eyes open to stare across the dark room at the doors leading to the balcony. Was that a sound she had heard? As she controlled her breathing to listen she heard it again – a stealthy footstep on her balcony. Warily, she sat up and glanced across at Marta, a few paces away in the trundle bed. Marta was already sitting, and in the dim light of the room, Tessa could see a blade in her hand. She shook her head and motioned for silence as she slipped out of the covers and pulled the sword from under her bed.

A gentle tap on the balcony door startled her. She heard Marta starting to get out of her bed and gestured for her to stay where she was. Pulling on her robe, Tessa moved quietly to the French doors and parted the curtain. She could make out the figure of a man standing there. With a sharp intake of breath, she recognized him. 'What is he doing here?' she wondered in alarm.

Tessa opened the door a crack and said firmly, "Señor, if you do not leave this balcony immediately, I will call the hotel management and have you arrested."

He chuckled under his breath. "Then you would have some explaining to do ...Señor de la Torre."

She cast a shocked look back at Marta, then opened the door and stepped onto the balcony. There was no point in pretending she did not know him. "Why are you here? To expose me as an impostor?"

Señor Catalano smiled broadly, brushing his wispy moustache with his index finger, a gesture that seemed to be an unconscious habit he adopted when he was amused. "To expose you would be to admit that I was beaten in a duel by a woman. My vanity would never permit that." He stepped back a few paces, ruefully glancing at the sword in her hand. Casually, he leaned against the iron railing, crossing his arms over his chest. He was still wearing the clothing that he had worn earlier at the Viceroy's residence.

Behind him, the sky was beginning to lighten with the dawn. Pale tendrils of ocean mist flowed along the empty street below. In the expectant hush before sunrise, a few tentative sounds reached her — the twitters of birds in the branches of the trees that lined the avenue, a rooster's sharp call, the rumble of a dray wagon somewhere nearby — all muted by the heavy moistness of the salty air.

Their voices seemed unnaturally loud and Tessa lowered hers to a near whisper. "If you don't plan to expose me, what do you want?"

"Have breakfast with me," he said simply. She could just see his eyes as the sky lightened. They held an ironic twinkle as he watched her.

"Why should I want to spend any time with you, Señor Catalano?" Tessa asked haughtily.

The irony left his eyes as they hardened perceptibly. "Because I hold your life in my hands."

The sword trembled slightly as Tessa took in the import of his words. She swallowed quickly, trying to think but her mind was frozen. She watched him brush at his moustache again as his lips turned upward in an ironic twist. He seemed to be enjoying himself. The fact that she held a sword did not seem to affect him at all.

He laughed softly and said, "Before you decide to kill me with your sword, let me assure you I have something important to tell you." He smiled, revealing a flash of white teeth. "Finally, tonight I have solved several mysteries. A very satisfying evening, all in all." He turned away from her to lean his elbows on the railing and gaze over the city.

"Since I have been here in Monterrey, I have met several strange and interesting people – a master fencer who wears tinted spectacles, a veiled harem dancer who suddenly disappeared from a party just as I was getting to know her." Catalano looked over his shoulder at Tessa and grinned. "Then last night, a masked woman bandit. I never was able to see their true faces ...until now. And a lovely face it is too," he added as he turned with a courtly bow. "There is a small restaurant next to the Fisherman's Wharf where they serve excellent food. Meet me there at nine o'clock." With that, he climbed over the railing, grasping the stout vines that grew up the side of the building and began to descend.

Tessa hesitated for a few seconds, then went back inside the room. Marta was still sitting on her bed, waiting for the outcome.

"Remind me next time we get a hotel room, to get one without a balcony," Tessa said as she sat down heavily on her bed.

"Then how would you get in and out of the room?" Marta grumbled as she laid back down and pulled her covers around her.

Tessa paid the driver and stepped down from the hired coach. Pebbles and sand crunched under her shoes as she walked toward the wharf. She paused to enjoy the scene. It had been over fifteen years since she had been in Monterrey and at this particular spot. Her father had brought her to this city to wait for the ship to Spain. The sights and smells of the harbour evoked strong memories. For a moment she was a child again, anxiously hanging onto her father's hand as he led her toward the longboat that would take them to their ship ...and take her away from everything that was familiar. Emotions crowded around her as she relived those vivid feelings of loss, fear of the unknown and the desire to go back home where she felt safe. 'I was so young, and so much was happening,' she thought wistfully. 'And I missed my mother so much.'

She started again toward a small building off to the side of the wharf. Along the quay were rows of warehouses. Sailors and stevedores moved barrels and crates of cargo to and from the longboats tied to the wharf. Several ships lay at anchor in the harbour, rising and falling on the undulating waves. A medley of sounds blended in her ears as she strolled toward the water – the shouts of the workers, the chatter and rattle of the wind through the rigging of the ships and the constant restless susurration of the waves pulsing on the strand.

She passed old weathered sheds whose planked sides were hung with tackle and gear and fishing nets. Tiny huts dotted the beach. She could see women mending nets, filleting fish, and watching the many children playing in the sand. Here and there a beached fishing dory lay belly-up on the strand while its owner repaired it with hot pitch, or smeared it with bright colourful paint.

Overhead, the air was filled with crying gulls which swooped over the beach to scoop up bits of fish. The ceaseless activity was entrancing. Tessa inhaled deeply of the ocean scents – seaweed left behind by the tide, and the sea itself, that moist salty ambiance that overlaid everything. A smile spread across her face. She loved the sea — unlike Marta, who had been fractious during their entire voyage from Spain, and had vowed never to get on another ship.

Tessa strolled toward the building which she decided must house the restaurant. It was hardly more than a shack with a kitchen. Behind the shack was a large patio covered by a woven reed canopy which filtered sunlight onto the tables under its shelter. A single diner was seated at one of the tables. Immediately upon seeing her, he set his coffee cup down and rose courteously.

The warm look in his eyes told her that the extra efforts she had taken with her attire this morning had made an agreeable impression upon him. After deliberating over what to wear, Tessa had chosen a simple off-the-shoulder blouse and printed skirt, cinched at the waist by a wide belt. Marta had fixed Tessa's hair neatly behind her head, making her look aristocratic. She stifled a smile at the look of appreciation on his face as he watched her approach.

For a moment he paused, then strode forward to greet her. Almost casually, Tessa held out her hand. There was nothing casual, however, about the kiss he bestowed upon it. That sensual kiss told her he knew how to charm and seduce, and she was on her guard against the intense thrill it gave her. That was not what she was here for. He had said he had something important to tell her.

Catalano kept hold of her hand and led her to the table, where he pulled out her chair and seated her, then he moved around to his own chair. A tense silence developed for a few seconds while he seemed to study her as if trying to gauge her mood.

A woman came out of the shack and stood beside their table. She was a small woman with a darkly weathered face, obviously someone who spent most of her time outdoors. She waited patiently, her attention on the man.

He spoke to her in rapid Catalan, and she nodded several times then replied in the same language. With a quick smile and a curtsey, she bustled back to the kitchen where her voice could be heard giving orders.

"I hope you don't mind, señorita, that I ordered for us both. You will not be disappointed." Catalano grinned at the look of surprise which Tessa tried to suppress at his facility in that other tongue.

Tessa began to wonder how much of what he had told her was true ...if Catalano was his real name, or if he was even from Napoli as he had said. 'I'm not the only one who has been wearing disguises,' she thought.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, "I much prefer your face without the false beard and moustache." He laughed smoothly and reached toward her cheek but Tessa pushed his hand away. Brushing at his moustache, he chuckled lightly and added, "As soon as I saw you at the fencing competition, the dark spectacles screamed disguise at me. I have been trained to observe such things. But the scar was a bit of an affectation, do you not think? Over the top a bit?"

He flashed a wide smile as Tessa bristled and sat straighter. She countered with, "It was good enough to fool the tournament officials."

Tessa paused as the woman came from the kitchen bearing a carafe of coffee and a cup and saucer. She set them down and poured Tessa a cupful of the fragrant brew. It smelled too good to resist. Tessa tasted it then smiled approvingly at the woman. It was delicious and restored her strength substantially as she had not slept much the night before. Nor had Catalano very likely, though he was impeccably groomed and dressed.

Once the woman had returned to the kitchen, Catalano said, "Let us get to the point of this meeting so we can enjoy our meal when it comes." He leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into hers. She suddenly felt like a trapped animal waiting for the predator to leap upon it.

"Since I cannot continue to call you Señor de la Torre, perhaps you could supply me with your real name." He smiled encouragingly and his eyes softened slightly in amusement. "At the party, you introduced yourself to me as Maria Theresa de Navarre. Somehow I doubt that is your real name."

Tessa gazed boldly into those intense dark eyes and replied casually, "Maria Theresa will do. A woman likes to surround herself with a little mystery."

He laughed under his breath and toasted her with his coffee cup.

"After that bandit woman left," he began, a mocking smile on his lips, "there was considerable turmoil. I wondered at the time why Colonel Montoya did not send his men after his most hated enemy. There was no attempt at pursuit and she got away. I stayed near the Viceroy in case any of Colonel da Silva's men returned to finish the job. Eventually, the doctor arrived and the Viceroy's wound was tended to. I remained at the residence, near his room for the rest of the night."

His voice dropped a level though there was no one near other than Tessa to hear him. "I have been watching da Silva since he arrived in Monterrey several days ago. Three nights ago, I followed him through a warren of backstreets and saw him enter a second storey room. I waited nearby for a considerable time, then another man entered the street. He looked secretive with his face covered by the collar of his cloak. He roused my suspicions, and sure enough, he also went into the upper room. I was just about to slip up to the door to listen when a masked woman dropped from the roof onto the landing outside. She leaned against the door and seemed to be listening to what was going on within."

Catalano crooked an eyebrow at Tessa, and she looked away, trying not to smile. "So my attempt to gather intelligence was circumvented by someone who looked like a bandita. She suddenly climbed back onto the roof, and a moment later the second man came out and hurried away. After a few more minutes, da Silva left the building also. I followed him but he just returned to his hotel. Of the bandita, I saw nothing more ...until last night," he added with a significant look at her.

For a moment, he regarded Tessa gravely with something like sympathy in his eyes. "You have been implicated in an attempted coup d'état which is, of course, treason – a capital offence. Montoya seems to have convinced the Viceroy that you were there to support da Silva in his nefarious plan. I know better. I believe you were there to prevent the assassination, which you did."

Tessa finally let go the breath she had not been aware of holding. She felt her body relax slightly. "You may believe me, Señor Catalano, but if the Viceroy does not, then I am still branded a traitor." Her voice was low and tense, and her hands lay clenched on her lap. "How can I clear my name?"

Catalano reached across the table and touched her cheek gently. His strength was reassuring but Tessa was very frightened and angry. Montoya had turned the tables on her and now she would have an even higher price on her head, and perhaps even more soldiers after her.

"'After Montoya left, I spent some time with the Viceroy. I told him everything I had seen and heard, including da Silva's secret meeting with someone and the actions of the bandita known as the Queen of Swords. At first, he did not believe me. He had been receiving reports for months on the crimes of this woman. It finally occurred to him that Montoya might have a reason to make the Queen the scapegoat in the attempted assassination. He now has some serious doubts about Montoya, but has not yet made up his mind on the part played by this Queen." He spread his hands and added, "I did all I could to vindicate you. It remains to be seen what the Viceroy will decide."

Catalano suddenly struck his fist on the table, startling Tessa with the unexpected violence. He snarled, "If only I had seen the face of the traitor who met with da Silva." He stared straight into her eyes, waiting.

Tessa opened her mouth and closed it again. If she betrayed Montoya to this man, the colonel would be removed, probably executed. She would never know the truth of who had killed her father or the reason behind the murder. She glanced away from that searching gaze and looked for an answer in the serenity of the vast ocean.

At that moment, the woman came from the kitchen pushing a trolley on which were arrayed a number of covered dishes. The aroma was tantalizing. In spite of her inner turmoil, Tessa was reminded that she had scarcely eaten the night before and was now ravenously hungry.

Catalano sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. The empty dishes had been cleared away. He glanced toward the wharf where several fishing boats were tied while the fishermen unloaded their catch.

He took her hand in both of his and raised it to his lips, a warm look in his eyes. He turned it over and brushed a finger over the callouses on her right hand. "The marks of a fencer," he murmured, looking into her eyes with admiration. "If you wish to keep me company until lunch, they serve excellent seafood in this restaurant, freshly caught."

All through the meal, Tessa had felt the compelling lure of his charm. He was handsome in a roguish sort of way. In his eyes, she saw something dark and wild, even dangerous. It would be so easy to fall in love with this man. Many women undoubtedly had, she reminded herself. Who knew how many broken hearts he had left behind? She drew her hand away slowly and answered, "I must return to my home today, Señor Catalano. I have been away too long already."

In the next second, the spell was broken. "Of course you must," he said. "As I must now move on to another assignment which will take me to South America. I leave tomorrow."

Tessa felt a sense of relief mixed with sadness at this abrupt announcement. She almost congratulated herself for not falling under his spell, almost, but not quite.

"I don't know how to thank you for your efforts on my behalf. I am deeply in your debt, señor," she said earnestly. "I am sure I can trust you to keep my secret."

His lips twitched as he smoothed his moustache. "If you want to return the favour, you can explain the series of moves for the 'unstoppable thrust'. I have been called out many times for duels of honour. Regrettably, I have a dubious reputation among women, and have been forced to become something of an expert duellist on that account." A wry expression crossed his face. "This move might make the outcome much more certain."

Tessa looked away in confusion as she hesitated then said, "I cannot tell you what I do not know." She shrugged and smiled ruefully.

For a moment, anger flashed across his face then he laughed. "Your loyalty to your fencing master does you great credit. I will not ask again." He rose and stepped around to her chair, pulling it out for her. He took her arm and led her from the patio out into the blinding sunlight.

"I will never forget you, Maria Theresa," he said as he touched his temple and the slight swelling there. "Wounds heal, but hearts never do. If only we had more time..." He stopped speaking and kissed her lightly, lingeringly on the lips.

That light touch sent her pulses racing with its compelling sweetness and its promise of passion. It took all her resolve to draw back and move away from him. Her voice sounded breathless as she whispered, "Adios, Señor Catalano."

Chapter Nine - Epilogue

The wagon rattled along the dusty road through narrow arroyos and past stunted trees and cacti. The two woman seated on the bench maintained a companionable silence, each lost in her own thoughts as the miles rolled under the wheels.

Finally, Tessa said with a self-conscious laugh, "I don't know what Señor Catalano must have thought of me this morning at breakfast. When the meal came, I practically fell on it like a starving animal."

"You have always had a good appetite, Tessa," Marta remarked as she turned to her with a fond smile.

"It was most unladylike of me. But I was famished, and the food was so good. I ate everything." Her cheeks warmed as she recalled his comments. "He said he preferred a woman with real appetites not simpering women who pretended to live on nothing."

Marta crooked an eyebrow at her. "I do not think he was talking about food."

Tessa nudged her companion playfully and laughed, "Really, Marta? Do you think it might have been a subtle double-entendre?" She squeezed Marta's arm affectionately to take the sting out of the sarcasm. "I think I learned a few things during my time at the Spanish Court."

"Too much, if you ask me," Marta muttered, shrugging out of Tessa's grasp. Her brow furrowed and she sighed heavily. "What will happen now that Montoya has become so close to the Viceroy? Your life is in more danger than ever. Maybe it is time to quit."

"Somehow, I think the Viceroy will remember that I was there to warn him. He may be a pompous bureaucrat, but I felt he was an honest man. He might seem to believe Montoya for appearances, but I'm sure Señor Catalano convinced him of my innocence in the assassination attempt. I won't quit until I see that justice prevails in our pueblo and I find out who killed my father and why."

Tessa settled back against the wagon bench, and stared ahead for a long time. Eventually, she shook herself out of her reverie and said, "I feel a little guilty that we were not able to spend more time with Señora Aguilera. At least we got to see Ramon and Isabel's baby though." She smiled wistfully as she recalled holding that tiny bundle and watching the dark eyes squinting at her, trying to focus on her face.

Impulsively, she kissed Marta on the cheek. "Thank you, Marta, for making that lovely christening gown for her. She looked beautiful at her baptism." Tessa laughed softly as she thought of the child's startled reaction to the cool water being poured over her head, and the angry squalls that followed. And how she had quickly handed the struggling baby back to Isabel as soon as the ceremony was over.

Marta patted her hand and replied, "De nada. It was my pleasure. Lucky for us the baby was born a week before we arrived in Monterrey, and you were able to be there for the baptism. You will be a very good godmother, I am sure." Marta opened her mouth as if to say something more, then closed it and looked away.

Tessa knew what Marta was about to say — probably something about someday having babies at their own hacienda, or that Tessa would make a good mother. She drew in a heavy sigh, realizing that particular joy seemed very remote. She said, "I think they were disappointed that we did not stay at their home. But it is a small place, already crowded with the three of them and now the baby. I'm sure they understood. I explained our frequent absences by the need to do some shopping for the hacienda while we were in the city. We will have to return in a few months for a real visit, Marta," Tessa added decisively.

She glanced uncertainly at the other woman. "Do you mind very much that we had to leave so soon? You seemed to be getting very close to Señor Reverte. Will you miss him?"

Marta suddenly burst out laughing. When she regained control of her voice, she answered, "That theatre is like the Spanish Court, full of romantic liaisons and intrigues." She held up her hand as if to enumerate some points. "Señor Reverte is lovesick over the playwright, Carlos. Carlos is in love with the leading actress. She is pregnant with a child from her rich patron who is married. The old actor, the leading man, has been having an affair for years with a married woman who is financing the play. If he is not in it, she withdraws her money." Marta chuckled at Tessa's astonished expression.

"I was right, Marta. It is a den of iniquity," Tessa laughed. "Still, they all seemed sorry to see you go when I met you at the theatre today after breakfast. Especially Señor Reverte. He had tears in his eyes."

"Jorge is very sensitive ...an artist." Marta directed a delighted smile at Tessa. "He offered me a job as his assistant. He said I have a real talent for disguises."

"He is also a master of understatement," Tessa murmured with an ironic lift of her eyebrows.

A loud rumble from behind drew their attention, and Marta leaned out of the wagon to peer around the canopy which sheltered them from the sun. She pulled back immediately, and said, "It's Montoya." She halted the wagon to allow the coach to pass on the narrow road.

A few seconds later, the black coach pulled up beside them and stopped. Montoya stepped out, straightened his jacket and bowed courteously to Tessa. "My dear Maria Theresa, what a surprise to find you on the road from Monterrey," he said ironically.

"We are returning from a visit to Señora Aguilera," Tessa replied, forming her lips into a vacuous smile.

"How is the señora?" The affable tone and the twist of a smile on his lips did not reach his eyes. They were rivetted upon her. Their grey coldness chilled Tessa despite the intense heat of midday.

"She is well, Colonel. Señora Aguilera enjoys the city and has made many new friends. I will tell her, when I write, that you were asking about her."

"And Ramon and Isabel? Are they also well?" An amused twinkle lit his eyes as Tessa closed her lips and drew in a quick breath. "Oh, yes. I know Ramon is in Monterrey. I could have arrested him at any time. But what purpose would it serve? He has learned his lesson and will not stray again. Especially now, with family responsibilities."

Tessa resisted the impulse to look at Marta. He seemed to know all her movements in the city. Or did he? Hoping her voice would not betray her fear, she answered, "You are a compassionate man, Colonel. Very few would be so understanding and forgiving."

"Yes," he mused. "It is a flaw in my character that I have tried to eradicate. But sometimes it surfaces and I can do nothing about it." His eyes glinted like steel suddenly, putting Tessa on her guard.

"You have not asked me what I was doing in Monterrey, Señorita Alvarado."

"Why, Colonel, I assumed it was government business, therefore no concern of mine," she giggled as she spread open her fan and waved it languidly.

"As a matter of fact, I was there for the fencing contest. You did hear about the tournament that was going on in Monterrey while you were there?"

"Oh my, yes. Ramon would talk of nothing else. We were quite bored to distraction, weren't we, Marta? Fortunately, we had the señora's friends and the baby to talk about. And of course, several tea parties to attend. We had such a nice time in Monterrey. Thank you for asking." Tessa put her hand to her mouth and said in dismay, "I beg your pardon, Colonel. You were about to tell us about the fencing competition. Did you win?"

He grimaced and glanced back at the six lancers surrounding his coach. "I took fourth place," he murmured.

"Fourth!" Tessa proclaimed loudly, causing the lancers to turn and smile. "Congratulations! Such an honour. We are very proud of you, Colonel."

"Fourth is nothing," Montoya growled. "Winning is everything." He seemed to regain control immediately and added, "I fenced against the Queen of Swords in the contest. And I let her win."

Tessa drew in a shocked breath and plied her fan energetically. "That is amazing, Colonel Montoya!"

"What is amazing, señorita? That I fenced against the Queen or that I let her win?"

"I'm not surprised that you let her win. You are a chivalrous gentleman." Tessa leaned down and beamed a beguiling smile upon him. "It is amazing they let a woman into the fencing competition."

"Of course, they do not let women into fencing contests," Montoya replied with asperity. "She was disguised as a man."

Tessa nodded in understanding. "And you were able to penetrate her disguise. How clever you are, Colonel. Why, it makes me feel so much safer knowing someone of your fencing skills and intelligence is protecting us." Tessa felt Marta's knee nudge her gently. She was baiting Montoya and was being warned to stop.

Montoya's eyes narrowed and he bowed briefly in deference to her praise. "Gracias, Señorita Alvarado. I am gratified that my efforts have been appreciated. You may be interested to know that while in Monterrey, I foiled an attempt on the Viceroy's life."

Tessa drew back in horror, her eyes widening. "Someone tried to assassinate the Viceroy? You are quite the hero, Colonel Montoya. Wait until I tell Vera and all my friends in Santa Elena about this. "

Montoya shook his head deprecatingly. "Please do not mention it. Good works, like evil, are best done in secret."

"I'm sure you know best about that, Colonel." Tessa felt the nudge again, more firmly. With a little laugh, she asked, "Will you receive a medal?"

"This morning I spent considerable time with the Viceroy. His wound is not serious and he seemed to be in good spirits. He plans to send a full report on this incident to the Royal Court and I expect there will be some little reward for me. I also believe that, with the Viceroy deeming himself to be so much in my debt, there is nothing I could not ask for now." His steely eyes seemed to cut into her as he added, "Soon I will have more soldiers and weapons at my command and then we shall see what Montoya can do. Timing is everything, or as the Bard would say, 'Ripeness is all'."

Montoya stepped back from wagon and gave the two women a thoughtful look. "As delightful as it is chatting with you, I must return to my duties. However, I would feel remiss as your protector if I allowed you to continue unescorted the rest of the way to Santa Elena." He gestured to two of the lancers and they took up positions on either side of Tessa's wagon.

"Really, Colonel. It is quite unnecessary. We made our way to Monterrey without incident. I am sure we will be fine. There is no need to trouble yourself on our account," Tessa said with a pert smile.

"It is no trouble, Maria Theresa. My conscience would bother me to think of you alone and unprotected out here in this untamed land. The soldiers will escort you to your hacienda." With that he bowed curtly and climbed back into his coach. A moment later it rattled off, raising a dust cloud that drifted over the wagon and coated the women's clothes.

Tessa exchanged a distressed look with Marta as she brushed the dust off her skirt. Marta started the wagon forward. They rode in silence with the soldiers in earshot on either side of them.

Finally, after several miles, Tessa said, "Isn't Colonel Montoya a wonderful man? How generous of him to think of our safety with so many other important matters on his mind. We are so very fortunate that he is the military commander of our territory." She giggled girlishly and continued, "I can't wait to get back home to get started on those new brocade drapes for my bedroom. Don't you think the colour is just perfect? Of course, the fabric for the new cushions will complement the counterpane so well. And that new colour of satin from Spain – it's so adorable. Have you ever seen a colour like it, Marta?" She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially and Marta nodded.

"Wait until I get those patterns out and start to work on your new dress, Tessa. You will be the belle of the ball at Montoya's next party. I may have to let the pattern out a bit though, after all the sweets you ate in Monterrey." Marta laughed as Tessa gasped and threw her an indignant look.

As the two women chattered on nonsensically, the lancers glanced at each other, rolled their eyes and moved to a position some distance ahead of the wagon team. Their deep voices could be heard conversing across the small distance.

Tessa gave Marta a playful smile. "That worked, Marta. If we're forced to suffer their company, at least we can talk freely if they stay ahead of us. And what do you mean, let out those patterns?"

THE END

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

©The Duellist - Maril Swan - September 2001