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English
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Part 9 of Acquired Taste
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Published:
2002-03-27
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3,016
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1/1
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Of Comfort and Despair

Summary:

The melodramatic title is from Shakespeare's sonnet CXLIV.

Two loves I have of comfort and despair
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman, colour'd ill.

Work Text:

The doctor was up to something. Being preoccupied with the man had its advantages; Luis' extensive observations had given him some good insights into Robert's behaviour. The doctor had brushed up against his shoulder on purpose, as a distraction. A very effective one as it turned out, for Luis kept hearing the smug voice -– "You obviously don't need me." -– instead of focusing on what he was going to do with the Queen of Swords.

The echoing taunt suddenly connected with Luis' more immediate problem. She wouldn't need him either...if she wasn't hurt. If she were truly injured, it would have taken half a dozen soldiers to rip the doctor from her side. And so the doctor's role became clear: he was planning to aid in her escape.

"Grisham."

"Colonel?"

He startled at the voice at his ear, not expecting his captain to be so close, but he kept his eyes on the Queen. "I suspect collusion, Grisham. I want every man standing guard tonight. I want a net of attentive eyes spread over the jail. No one is to get out and no one is to get in. Entiende?"

"I understand perfectly, Colonel. Do you want a man posted in the cell? The doctor said...."

"I don't care what the doctor said!" That came out sharper than he intended. But he hadn't removed his gaze from the Queen and didn't intend to until all of his orders had been given. He took a deep breath then pitched his voice lower, but still clear enough that she couldn't miss a word. "Do not let anyone near her. Place two guards at the usual post –- one to watch her, one to watch the door. Make sure everyone has a loaded weapon. Two if possible. Preferably a rifle. If anyone comes close –- shoot them. We will ask questions later, Capitan."

Luis could almost feel Grisham's grin at the last remark. "Yes, sir!"

Not a twitch. Well, he had never doubted that the woman had nerves of steel. He took a step toward the cell door and checked that it had been locked. Even the sudden sharp rattle had no effect on the corpse-like Queen of Swords. Luis smirked. It was good practice for her. He reiterated the orders for the cell guards before leaving the building. As he did a casual inspection of the men Grisham had chosen for this duty, a thought struck him. "Who has the keys?" How Helm could have taken them, Luis couldn't even imagine, but he wouldn't put it past the sneaky....

"They are here, sir," said Sergeant Perez, pulling the ring out of the desk drawer.

Luis took them and was walking out of the building when the sergeant's voice stopped him. "But, Coronel? What if there is an emergency?" Luis turned around, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Like a fire, sir."

His glance slid toward the Queen's cell, and he made sure his answer would carry. "Then she burns." That must have caused a twitch or two.

As Luis descended the jail's stairs, his attention was caught by one of the soldiers moving to his assigned post. "Cruz," Luis called, beckoning for the man to follow him. The corporal stopped in his tracks and hurried over as Luis turned to Grisham. "I am placing this soldier myself, Capitan." Grisham acknowledged with his version of a salute and continued to assign the rest of the men. Corporal Cruz had apprenticed as a blacksmith before becoming part of the garrison; his skill with horses was so exceptional that Salaan was under his particular care. Luis trusted the young man not only to be attentive but also to show a good amount of common sense -– something that often seemed in short supply within the ranks.

When they reached the post, with its clear view of the doctor's front door, Luis called to the nearest soldier, "Private, I expect extra vigilance from you. The corporal here has concerns other than the jail."

"Si, Coronel!"

Luis lowered his voice to a more conversational tone. "Cruz, I have chosen you for a special assignment. Your primary duty, like the rest of your comrades, is to contain the Queen, but I want you to keep a close watch on that door." He indicated the doctor's office. "If you see the doctor leave -- stop him. Try not to shoot him, but if you must, try not to make it fatal. Unless you want to go back to having Esteban treat your injuries." Luis motioned to the private now stationed on the roof above them.

The look of dismay on the corporal's face assured Luis that the doctor's safety would be a priority. But he thought it unlikely that Helm would leave through the front door, which is why he was going to take the sentry duty for the back of the building himself. There was little point in watching if the doctor was not inside, though, so Luis first took a cautious look through the surgery window. The inner door to the room was open, giving him a view into the rest of the building, and he saw Robert stalk past the opening, pulling on a shirt. He was there, that was all Luis needed to know. He had no cause to wonder if the evident ablutions had wiped away all traces of their previous activities. He didn't need to recall the feeling of the strong chest under his hands. There was absolutely no reason for him still to be standing at the window hoping for another glimpse!

Luis spun on his heel and stalked toward the spot he had chosen for his vigil. He borrowed a chair from a nearby porch to make himself comfortable. Falling asleep on watch was not an issue tonight. Not with Robert's voice ringing through his head – "Do you think I could come back here...." And that soft taunt -– "Jealous?" It had been a taunt, hadn't it? Of course it had. But the look in Robert's eyes had been...assessing. Perhaps....

"It's the Queen!"

"Dios mio!" Luis exclaimed in disbelief as he leapt from the chair and headed back to the garrison square at a trot. "What have these idiots done now?" He spotted a figure on a horse ride past the end of the street. It wasn't the Queen; the rider's seat was wrong. The rest of the men were fooled though, even steadfast Cruz, for they were chasing her, shooting at her as if they hadn't seen her dragged into the jail less than an hour ago. And she had better still be there or....

Luis ducked into the shadows by the church. There she was, just leaving the jail now and walking gingerly. That tumble must have caused some damage then. He remained still until she had rounded the corner of the building, then he sprinted across the garrison square, keeping his steps as light as possible. A quick look through the door way of the jail showed only one guard –- knocked out cold, of course. That soldier would receive a commendation: he was the only man out of the whole garrison to remain at his post. As for the rest of them, they had better catch the impostor. Anyone who would risk riding into the line of fire must be close to the Queen. She could act as effective bait. Or the real one might be sloppy tonight, thinking she has escaped unnoticed. Luis hadn't realized how much of an optimist he was until the Queen of Swords had become part of his life.

He followed her into the small warren of residences. She moved silently, but not quickly; stalking her was easier than he had expected it to be. The sounds of the other chase seemed to be coming back this way. Luis took a look down the street he had seen her turn onto. Empty. Then he saw a movement in the entranceway to a small courtyard. It was little more than a widened ally shared by all the dwellings that backed onto it but the narrow entries at each end made it seem secluded. He drew his sword and hoped that she would stand and fight him rather than run into the garrison's guns.

A few quick steps to cross the street and then a careful sidle along the wall brought Luis to the point where he could see her leaning against the inside wall on the opposite side of the gateway. He straightened his posture and walked purposefully through the entrance. A bougainvillea exploded under his parry. When the soil settled, the Queen stood ready for battle again, an adobe pot of morning glories swinging from her left hand. The posture might have seemed humorous if it weren't for the flash of steel in her right: one of the doctor's surgical knives.

"That is what you used to escape?"

"I opened the lock when the guards went to chase my twin." Her laugh was breathless, but full of bravado. "Your men are trained to respond instantly to the cry: 'It's the Queen!' It's almost as good as a dinner bell."

Helm had supplied her weapon, had he also arranged for the duplicate Queen? It didn't matter. The real one was here and almost back in her cage. She made a valiant effort with her knife, varying the attacks enough to make the confrontation interesting. Her main purpose remained escape, however, which helped Luis predict her moves. It didn't take long to corner her against one of the buildings. He managed to trap the hand holding the knife, pinning it between her body and the wall while she struggled with the other to prevent him from slitting her throat with his sword.

While they were in this temporary frieze Luis saw the fear fade from her expression to be replaced by a triumphant smile. There could only be one reason for that. He didn't even bother turning around. "Doctor Helm. Have you decided that you are needed after all?"

Silence answered him, and the Queen started to look concerned, renewing her struggle. "Doctor, a little help please. This is hardly a fair fight," she called.

"Maybe not, but then the important ones rarely are." From the sound of his voice, Luis guessed Helm was standing on the opposite side of the small courtyard. "I gave you your chance for freedom, Senorita. And even though I have killed for you once before, I will not do it again."

It was heartening to see the amazement and fury in her eyes. "You think that Montoya deserves more consideration than El Serpiente?"

"What I think the colonel deserves is not the issue."

Damn him! This was not the moment to be making...those kind of comments, particularly in that silky smooth voice.

During that brief distraction, the Queen slid under Luis' guard and attempted to put the small knife to good use. Although only half aware of the attack, he managed to twist enough for the blade to avoid his heart. It found deep purchase just under his right collarbone. Luis' arm spasmed. His sword dropped to roll away in the dust. The pain also caused his knees to buckle though he managed to retain a thread of control so that only his right one hit the ground. He turned his head to look at Helm. He had been leaning against the far wall and was now pushing himself upright. Dismay and shock battled for dominance in his wide eyes. Actually the man looked like he was about to be sick. Luis followed the doctor's gaze to see the Queen reaching for his fallen sword. The determination on her face told him that this time she intended on finishing the job.

"RUN!" bellowed Robert.

She froze in her motion, like a deer catching the scent of a predator, and then bounded through the far gate as swiftly as any of the graceful beasts.

Grisham and a handful of soldiers immediately poured through the near doorway only to stop short at the sight of Luis collapsed onto one knee. "After her, idiots!" Luis snarled, waving them toward the other entrance. Grisham stayed a moment longer to send a suspicious look at the doctor then followed his men.

Luis wondered if he had lost consciousness for a few moments for suddenly Robert was at his side. The weight of Robert's gaze felt as heavy as that of the hands on his back and sound shoulder.

"And when they catch her again?" Robert asked quietly.

"If they catch her again tonight it will be a sign from God." Luis turned his head to meet Robert's stare. "I trust that you will not have the audacity to interfere with the Divine plan should that happen."

Robert dropped his eyes for a second. When he raised them again they showed a renewed conviction. "Come on, let's get you to my office and see how bad this is."

"Just pull the thing out! It is not as if it is the first time I have been wounded."

"There is going to be a lot of blood lost and I don't want to have to move you while trying to control that." The wound was only bleeding lightly at the moment, but the effort to regain his feet caused a renewed warmth to trickle over his chest. Robert had taken position against the uninjured side and used his body to support Luis, aided by an arm wrapped around his waist. By the time they had reached the garrison square, Robert had vetoed every one of Luis' ideas for alternate treatment.

"I cannot maintain my command from your surgery. Treat me at home."

"I don't want to have to send to my office every time I need something. In an emergency that could be very dangerous."

"If I am going to die, I want it to be in my own bed!"

"Dying again, are you? I think the only reason you want a doctor in town is so that you have an excuse not to follow through."

"The excuses may have run out if that damn woman continues to use me as a pin cushion."

Luis felt Robert's chuckle more than he heard it. "Considering the numbers of run-ins you have with her, Luis, I'm surprised she hasn't put more holes in you."

"Most of the time she is simply an annoyance. She only cuts deep when you are involved."

The rest of the trip was made in silence. They kept a steady pace, but Robert had obviously reduced his long, sauntering stride to match Luis' pain shortened one. The feel of Robert's body and the warm natural scent of him -- Robert didn't use perfumes, did he? – provided just enough of a diversion to keep Luis from counting the throbs in his shoulder. He glanced at Robert from the corner of his eye and noted a look of concern, perhaps regret...or guilt. Any of them would be fine. If it weren't for the fact that he had ruined a silk shirt and he was in utter agony, he would be enjoying this walk. Robert let him go to open the office door and waited in the doorway to help him up the pair of shallow steps. The narrow portal and Robert's position resting against the frame allowed Luis to brush his good shoulder across the broad chest as he crossed the threshold; it was gratifying to see that Robert would not meet his eyes. But he couldn't savour that now, he needed the man's antagonism as a distraction. "Have you been drinking?" Luis asked, looking over his shoulder as he moved into the room. "You smell like a distillery."

The gaze that snapped up to meet Luis' was full of fire. "I am not drunk," Robert insisted, as he shut the door firmly behind them.

Luis couldn't help but smile at the parallel from earlier this evening. Robert narrowed his eyes, obviously not as amused. "It didn't stay in my stomach long enough."

"Charming image." That was all Luis managed as a wave of light-headedness took him and he found himself again in Robert's arms, being half dragged to the surgery. He recovered enough to be of assistance getting onto the table.

Luis wasn't sure if it was because of his distraction or Robert's efficiency but the doctor seemed to gather everything he needed in a matter of seconds. He cut the uniform to the wound, allowing it to slide off without disturbing the knife. Robert took a long look at the ruined coat in his hands before tossing it into the corner. "A shame. I liked this one on you." The blood soaked shirt received the same treatment.

"I have another on order in Monterrey. There is an adequate tailor in residence there. You should avail yourself of his services."

"You don't like my clothes?"

I prefer you without them. The comment died on Luis tongue. He wasn't sure what caused him more pain -– the wound as he reclined onto the table, or the feeling of Robert's hands on his bare flesh again.

"On your side, please, Luis. I'm going to let the puncture bleed for a while. To clean it."

Robert helped Luis roll onto his good shoulder, his weight tilted slightly forward and supported by Robert's body. It was so good to have Robert near. Even with his life flowing from him, Luis felt as if no real harm could come to him. There was only one thing that nagged at his mind as he half listened to Robert's low soothing voice telling him what was going to happen and that everything would be fine. He covered the hand reaching for the knife. "Who were you saving, Robert, with your final cry -– her or me?"

"Do I have to choose? Why can't I have everything I want?" The smallest of smiles played across Robert's lips as he gripped the knife firmly.

A question I ask myself every day, querido. Pain exploded though Luis' arm, chest, and neck, and the world faded, grey then black.

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