Hardly had she time to note the items before she was tackled roughly, landing with a bone-jarring crash on the cave floor. Her torch spun across the cave and clattered against the wall. For several breathless seconds, she wrestled against his manic strength, finally realising she was no match for him. He had her pinned against the ground, his panting breath fanning her face. Tessa allowed herself to go limp and ceased struggling.

De Beauville regarded her with a suspicious look while holding her tightly, pressing her down with his weight. The rocks beneath her were bruising her back, but she remained completely still.

"I told you not to touch that. You are here to steal it, aren't you, bandita?" he snarled, his face only inches from hers. The firelight glittered in his eyes, their coldness chilling her even as she tried to stifle the shiver that ran through her.

Regaining some of her composure, Tessa snapped, "What are you talking about? I was sheltering from the rain. What would I try to steal from you?"

His grip on her wrists loosened slightly and he lifted his weight enough to relieve the pressure against her back. "You know what I am talking about. How did you find me?"

"I was escaping from the town with something to help a friend. Just some documents. Look in my saddlebag. In this area, I am known as the Queen of Swords," she explained in a patient tone, hoping he would understand and believe her. "I only steal back what belongs to others...to return it to them."

His eyes narrowed as he studied her for a long moment, then he released her wrists, rolled off her and stood up. Tessa sat up, rubbing her sore back. "I'm going to be a mass of bruises after tonight," she said ruefully. "Now, maybe you could explain what you think I came here to steal."

The Frenchman walked over to Chico and lifted the saddlebag from his rear haunches, startling the horse. De Beauville tossed the leather bag onto the ground at her feet. "Open it," he ordered coldly.

Tessa shrugged. "Thanks for believing me," she said sarcastically as she unfastened the flap of the bag. Pulling out the sheaf of papers, she held them up to him. "Just legal documents to prove my friend owns his property. No money or jewels, just paper," she finished contemptuously, pushing the documents back into the saddlebag.

De Beauville bent and threw the blanket back over the pile of things, then turned to face her. "I lied to you before," he said in a low voice.

"Really! What a surprise!" Tessa staggered to her feet, still shaky from the impact of his attack. "Is any part of your story true?"

Shamefacedly, he tried to smile and failed. "My name is true. Everything else is fabrication. I have never lived in Quebec. I was a lieutenant of the dragoons with Napoleon in Spain."

Her head still throbbing unmercifully, Tessa tried to think. "Why did you lie? What are you hiding in that package that you thought I came to steal?"

He pushed back the blanket and pulled out the package. It was large and rectangular, covered with a grimy oilcloth and tied with a thin rope. After hesitating for several seconds, de Beauville began to untie the knot with his delicate fingers. He pushed aside the strands, then unwrapped the oilcloth.

Tessa gasped at what was revealed in the tattered cloth. "Madre de Dios! Where did you get that?" she whispered in awe. She moved closer for a better look, afraid to touch it.

Firelight gleamed on the golden monstrance that the Frenchman held in his trembling hand. He kept the cloth over the place where his hand contacted the gold as if he, too, was afraid to touch the holy object. "I stole it from a church in Spain," he said hoarsely. "The priest warned me not to take it. He shouted, 'You will be damned for this'. But I knocked him down and ran out of the church with it." He clutched the monstrance to his chest as if guarding it.

"Later, I was wounded and sent home, taking my plunder with me." The Frenchman sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "We raped and pillaged throughout Spain. I don't have to tell you that," he rasped, looking into her eyes, then away. "I did so many evil things in Spain. I can never believe that I could have done them. It all seems like a nightmare now. But I did commit those foul deeds." De Beauville stepped to the cave entrance from which water was now dripping. The rain had stopped. He stood looking out at the dark landscape. Intermittent flashes still illumined the sky, but the thunder had ceased.

Without looking at her, he continued, "For months, while I recuperated from my wounds, I kept the monstrance hidden. One day, I rode down to the town church with it. I unwrapped it and offered it to the priest. The look he gave me nearly froze my soul. 'Where did you get that?' he asked. Horror was written on his face. I told him I had taken it as a prize in Spain. He wouldn't even look at the object, just said, 'Take it back to where you got it. It is tainted by blood.' He hurried away from me as if I was a demon."

Tessa fought with her own strong reactions as she listened to his story. Revulsion warred with pity. She tried not to see him as one of the monsters who terrorized her youth but as a man tormented by his memories. Like Dr. Helm, she thought. And like me. Aloud, she said, "The war left scars on us all, señor. We must try to put it behind us."

Good advice, she thought to herself, but could she do that? The pitiful cries of the starving and dying in Madrid still echoed in her ears. The thunder of cannon that shook the foundations of her villa and caused her to cling to Marta in abject terror still haunted her dreams some nights. As she looked at him, outlined by the weak moonlight that seeped through the clouds, she tried to imagine him in his blue uniform with its bright braids and sashes. Dressed now like a beggar, it was hard to think of him as part of that terrible military machine that had tried to crush the spirit of Spain.

He turned to face her. "I can never put it behind me until I have made my reparation. I cannot bring back those I killed, but at least I can try to save my soul by returning this holy object to the Church," he said, holding the golden cross out in front like a shield. "For years, I have tried to find that priest from whose church I stole the golden cross."

De Beauville strode back from the cave entrance and returned the monstrance to its place on the oilcloth. He continued to gaze down at the shiny cross with the white disc in its centre. "It has been the bane of my existence ever since I took it. I have not had a moment's happiness since that terrible day."

Tessa moved to Chico and patted his flank, then checked the girth to tighten it. Now that the rain had stopped, she could leave. But first, she had to get back her weapons. She still did not know his intentions toward her or if she would have to fight her way out of the cave.

He spoke again, startling Tessa from her own thoughts. "I went back to Spain. The destruction was appalling and I was so ashamed to have been part of it. When I found the church again, I was told by the curate that the priest who lost the monstrance had felt he should have died trying to protect it. As a penance, he asked to be sent to the furthest, most isolated place in the colonies. It has taken me this long to finally find him."

"Padre Quintera," Tessa breathed, suddenly realising this must be a secret burden that the priest carried on his soul. The war has indeed scarred everyone, she thought sadly.

"You know him?" de Beauville asked, his voice rising in excitement. He moved closer to her and touched her arm gently. Tessa forced herself not to shrink away.

"Yes, Padre Quintera is a saintly man. He is the kindest and gentlest man I have ever known." With the possible exception of Dr. Helm, Tessa added silently.

De Beauville released her arm and looked down. "I have been here for weeks, summoning up the courage to face him. Every time I think I can do it, something like tonight's rain prevents me. A few weeks ago, I stepped on a cactus and my foot got infected so I was unable to walk far. Then, a patrol of Spanish soldiers rode by and I was sure they were looking for me, so I hid and waited. Now, you are here and I was afraid you had come to steal the holy object before I could return it."

Tessa laughed. "You have nothing to fear from me. I only steal from Montoya." Seeing the look of incomprehension on his face, she added, "The military governor of this area. He thinks he is the next Napoleon."

De Beauville nodded, then knelt before the golden object and reverently re-wrapped it, carefully tying the ropes around the package. He stared at the rough parcel for a long time, his eyes half-closed and his lips silently murmuring something.

The hair on Tessa's neck began to creep. He is quite mad, driven mad by guilt and obsession with that holy object he stole, she thought as she watched him gently tuck the blanket back over the package. I'm stuck in a cave with a madman who is between me and my weapons. Somehow, she had to grab her sword and dagger, then get away on her horse. Perhaps the direct approach would work.

"I want to leave now," Tessa said, standing boldly with her hand on her hip. "Let me get my weapons so I can go home."

He looked up quickly, then picked up her sword, holding it at arm's length, its point aimed at her heart. "You are going nowhere, bandita. As soon as I give you your weapons, you will steal the holy cross from me."

"Señor de Beauville, why don't you trust me? I told you the truth. I don't steal for myself," Tessa said, her voice hardened with exasperation. Soon, it would be getting light. She was cold, tired and thoroughly irritated by her inability to get away.

He snorted derisively. "You said you steal to return things to their rightful owners. But I don't believe you." Standing, he waved the sword vaguely at her face. "Take off the mask so I can see who you are."

Tessa sighed with frustration. "You're asking me to put my life in your hands by trusting you. I can't do that."

De Beauville shrugged. "So, it seems we are at an impasse." He watched her closely, keeping the sword between them.

Clenching her gloved fists with annoyance, Tessa ground out, "Do you have anything to suggest since neither of us trusts the other?"

"We wait for sunrise, then leave the cave together. So, you might as well get some sleep."

Wearily, she slid down onto the cave floor, leaning against the rock wall. "At least, let me have the blanket," she said gruffly. "It's freezing in here and thanks to you, my clothes are wet."

He tossed the wool blanket across to her, then resumed his position near the fire, watching her with a disconcerting fixation that made her want to shrink into the rock wall. Tessa wrapped herself up and tried to find a position that was comfortable. The cosy warmth of the wool soon made her sleepy and her eyes grew heavy with fatigue. The sounds of the fire and the stamping and snorting of the horse faded away.

Chico's sudden bellow of fright woke her and she opened her eyes on a sword aimed at her heart, following it up into Grisham's grinning face.

Continue to Part Three

If you have missed any episodes so far, you will find them in the Season Three Archives section .