Disclaimer: The characters, Tessa Alvarado and Marta, are copyrights of Paramount and Fireworks Productions. No infringement is intended. The story is original and copyright of the author, Maril Swan.

Author's Note: This story is a sequel to "Un Día Nuevo" and has references to "Gitano", both of which are on this site.

Flamenco
by Maril Swan

The fire and passion of the dance absorbed all her senses until there was nothing but the music and flamenco. It transcended her consciousness, taking her into that realm where only she existed, the loud clapping of the audience only a peripheral sound like her stamping feet. Suddenly, it was over. The guitar ceased, and she returned to herself, smiling at the explosive appreciation of the crowd. She watched her cousin, Pico and other gitano, moving through the large audience of townsfolk ringed around her, accepting coins.

Marta moved away from the noisy crowd, toward her own caravan. Flamenco was physically and emotionally exhausting, and she was weary. As she reached for the dipper to get some water from the barrel, an arm grabbed her from behind. Its grip was cruel, crushing and she struggled vainly to escape. "You're mine," a harsh voice whispered in her ear. "You'll always be mine." He laughed at her ineffectual efforts to throw him off. It was a face she knew- transformed by malice, his eyes in the firelight seemed to be aflame. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she struggled against him.

She sat up, disoriented, and saw it was nearly dawn. A premonition, she thought in alarm as her body still reacted to the terror of that vision. Reaching into her bedside table, Marta drew out the Tarot cards, shuffled them, then formed the question. She spread the cards one by one into a pattern, her brow furrowed by what she was reading. She stared at the last card she had turned up, holding it with dread. It cannot be. It just cannot!

A gentle tap on the door was followed by the appearance of Tessa. Her smile faded as she looked at Marta, so totally absorbed by her Tarot cards, she had not even noticed the younger woman enter her room. "Buenos dias, Marta," she said softly.

Marta drew in a quick breath, flustered for a second by surprise. She gathered the cards swiftly and wrapped them again in the silk cloth then deposited the deck into her bedside table. "Buenos dias, Tessa. You are up early. Or are you just returning from somewhere?" That sounded sharper than Marta had intended and she regretted it as she saw Tessa wince slightly.

"What did you see in the cards, Marta? You seem upset."

"Nothing. Nothing for you to worry about, Tessa. Let us have some breakfast." Marta threw off the bedclothes and arose, wrapping her shawl around her nightgown.

"Perhaps you could do a reading for me. I have a question I would like answered." The colour in Tessa's cheeks warmed to a deep rose, and Marta knew what was on her mind.

"I think this is the wrong time for such questions, Tessa. I'm not in the mood for this right now. Another time." With that, she brushed by the younger woman and went into the corridor.

***********

Over the next week, Marta seemed watchful, wary. Tessa noted that Marta jumped whenever she was spoken to, so absorbed was she in her own thoughts. Her manner with everyone was prickly and impatient. With Tessa, she was cool and distant.

One morning, Tessa came into the kitchen, hearing Marta's voice scolding someone. As she entered the room, she saw Rosa, the kitchen help, hanging her head as Marta reproached her. "This kitchen is not fit for pigs to eat in!" Marta said sharply. "Clean everything!"

Tessa gasped. She had never heard Marta speak to the servants this way. It was very unlike her. And Tessa was suddenly angry-angry that Marta would use such a manner with poor timid Rosa, and angry that Marta would not confide her troubles. "Marta!" Tessa said abruptly, making both the other women jump. "I would like to speak with you...alone!" Tessa strode out of the kitchen, not waiting to see if Marta followed. She went into the garden and waited by the roses, trying to compose herself.

Soon, Marta joined her, looking a bit shamefaced. "I have already apologized to Rosa for my harshness. And now I apologize to you. I have had something on my mind for days. It was a premonition, and now it is a certainty." She opened her mouth to speak but before she could utter a word, old Ignacio hobbled up to them and bowed deferentially to Tessa.

"Patrón, there is someone here to see Marta." He bowed again and went back toward the front of the villa.

Tessa watched Marta's face drain of colour, her eyes take on the look of a trapped animal. "Who is it, Marta? Who are you so afraid of?" Not receiving an answer, Tessa began to move past her friend, obviously with the intention of finding out for herself. Marta grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Let me go to him. I know what he wants." Marta hurried to the front entrance of the villa.

Tessa stared worriedly after her. She shrugged and went to the stables to see if Chico's wound was mending well. In her last foray into the pueblo, a soldier's bullet had grazed Chico's foreleg just above the fetlock. He had been limping badly and Tessa had not ridden him for several days. Fortunately, there had been no need for the Queen the past week, giving her horse time to recover. As she saw Chico's bandaged leg, her heart turned over for him. He was a brave horse, the best she had ever had. He didn't deserve to be shot at and wounded, maybe killed for her risks.

"I'll be more careful from now on, Chico. I promise you won't be hurt again," she said as she stroked the horse's velvety nose. It nuzzled her hand and Tessa felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. She loved this horse like it was part of her.

**************

He looks bigger, broader, Marta thought as she nervously approached the man standing on the verandah staring off into the distance. He hadn't heard her yet, giving her time to prepare for this encounter. His head was uncovered and Marta noted with a slight sadness, there was grey sprinkled among the black of his wavy hair. It has been at least seven years since I have seen him, and he has aged a little. Probably, so have I.

"Paolo," Marta said softly. He turned swiftly and moving quickly to her side, scooped her up into a joyous embrace as he had so many times when they were young. He set her down and grinned into her eyes, and Marta felt a sudden warmth of affection for him. He hadn't changed at all, really. Still as impulsive as ever. She smiled at his infectious good humour as she always had. "It is very good to see you, Paolo," she said a bit breathlessly, and she realized suddenly, that she meant it.

"Marta!" he cried, holding her close. "You are more beautiful than ever." He pushed her back gently and looked at her with shining eyes. "I have dreamed of this moment for years. I can hardly believe I'm here with you." He crushed her again to his chest, and Marta could feel his heart beating wildly. "I have so much to say to you, Marta. Where can we talk?"

***************

Tessa watched as Marta and Paolo took the wagon and drove off somewhere. She was consumed by curiosity, but also by concern. What was he here for? To claim Marta now that she was free? A sinking feeling invaded her stomach at the thought. She will go back to Spain, to Andalusia and her own people, and I will never see her again. Trying to banish that thought, Tessa got out the grooming kit and began to brush Chico's glossy flanks until they shone even more. The horse shivered with delight at the attention from his mistress, constantly nudging her with his nose to receive a pet. When she finished with her stallion, she started grooming the mare that Marta rode. It was in foal to Chico, and Tessa was anxious to see the first horse born on her hacienda since she had returned from Spain. It should be a fine foal, she thought, a true Andalusian.

The hours sped by and still there was no sign of Marta. Tessa ate a solitary dinner on the verandah, and waited. The sun was beginning to set when Marta finally returned...alone. Tessa got up from the verandah and went to help Marta put the wagon away.

Marta looked up as Tessa began to unfasten the harnesses. Her eyes held a question, but Marta was not yet ready to speak. In silence, they put everything in its place and stabled the horse.

"Are you hungry, Marta? I saved you some dinner."

The sudden intrusion of Tessa's voice made the other woman jump. Marta gave Tessa a quick smile. "You are dying of curiosity, aren't you?" She took a deep breath. "I'll tell you everything. After I eat." Marta led the way into the kitchen, now darkened with twilight. As she pulled out some food from the larder, Tessa poured a glass of wine for each of them, and sat down at the kitchen table.

Marta ate in silence, meditatively chewing her food, and sipping her wine, while enjoying the impatient curiosity that must be burning in her companion. Finally, she began to speak.

"Paolo heard about Edouard," Marta began. Tessa leaned forward eagerly. "And he came here to be sure that I knew about Edouard's death. That I was now free. He lives in Mexico...with his wife and children. They left Spain to find a place where there was less prejudice, more freedom. He says that Mexico will soon free itself from Spain and become independent." Marta smiled then laughed with delight. "In Mexico, he is considered an artist, and his work is much in demand. They have a good life, it seems." A tear gathered in her eye and she looked away. "I am so happy for him. He deserves it."

She saw the look of doubt in Tessa's eyes. Marta took her hand, and added, "All this week, after the premonition, I was afraid he was coming to enforce our betrothal. I have always felt such guilt over hurting him so badly. I thought I had ruined his life. I didn't want to hurt him again, but I don't love Paolo, not like that. I was so happy to know he had married." Marta paused and chuckled. "He married Estrellita. Remember her, Tessa? She played a fiery flamenco on her guitar, and had an even more fiery temper." Marta laughed at the thought of Estrellita and Paolo together. "I am sure he has an interesting and tempestuous life with her."

"You don't wish it was you instead of Estrellita?" Tessa bit her lip, and continued, "I feel selfish, Marta, but I was afraid you would leave with Paolo, and go back to Andalusia. It was very painful to think of life without you," she added softly.

"My place is with you, querida. We're a family, remember? The Alvarados." Marta got up and embraced her friend, her sister. She laughed joyfully and impulsively pulled Tessa to her feet. "Come on, Tessa! Get your guitar. We'll go down to the peon's campfire and show them how a real flamenco is done. Suddenly, I feel like dancing tonight!"

THE END

©Flamenco - Maril Swan - March 2001

Your comments on my stories are always welcome Maril Swan