Short Story: The Audacious Bandolero

Short Story: The Audacious Bandolero

It is hot, and dry dust fills the wicked warm air of the high plateau.

An old road meanders through the realm of the high country, and its sun-baked and well-worn tracks, bear the load of an approaching and heavy coach. The coach rattles through the bright blue day with the hooves of the galloping team, lifting a curtain of fine dust in its wake.

A rider emerges from the harsh shadows with a pistol drawn.

"Ho! Ho! …Halt! Or it may be your last breath, my man!"

The driver atop the coach dressed a finely stitched crimson coat, pulls hard upon the team, and applies his body-weight against the pull of the long leather reigns. The coach slides to a halt.

"...Welcome all!"

Gabriel Hortez tips his large red-rimmed sombrero back, and beams a wide smile into the face of the elegant woman, sitting upright in the coach.

"Why, what have we here? …Welcome dear lady! ...And how are we this fine morning? Could it be that your smile is held low by the weight of that fine string of pearls around your pretty neck? Come! …Let me release you from that tiresome burden." Gabriel pushes the pistol into his waistband, reaches forward into the carriage, and thrusts the point of a long dagger into the ivory skin of the lady's throat..."If you would be so kind... I have many mouths to feed - and too many wives!"

"Why you dog! ...You go too far sir! Do you know to whom you are addressing?"

"...It matters not to me dear lady. Why, between my knife at your beautiful neck, and the stab of hunger in the stomachs of my children, what need have I for words? All I ask, is possession of those fine pearls - and perhaps a kiss from those sweet and tender lips!"

The lady sitting within the close confines of the chestnut-panelled coach reaches for the hidden clasp, and releases the heavy pearls into the large hand that waits at her face.

"Curse you sir! ...Those are a present from my husband, Don Miguel Santa Fortissima, and when he hears of this outrage, your life will be as worthless as the dust that dances in the afternoon breeze!"

"Ah! ...Many thanks sweet lady, you have elevated me in my status - to one of an idle sir! For whence I did lay my eyes upon your beauty, I dared not to think that I was worthy of any such response - and from such a fine lady as yourself!"

"You are nothing but a rouge and a scoundrel on the King's highway sir! A curse of the lowest order!"

"Have a care my dear lady, it is the blade of Gabriel Hortez that is at your throat! Yet, I fancy that you are a cat with a thorn in the paw, and not a thorn that I have placed there!

…Perhaps you think of some knave that has stolen your affections, for your words would cut the heart of any brave suitor, and shame even the edge of my poor blade!

…Is there a fallen passion, or perhaps a fine Cavalero that has drawn your scorn?" Gabriel tucks the heavy silken band of pearls into his waist- band pocket, eases his heavy frame toward the young woman and embraces her fully upon the lips.

The lady lingers...

"...Ooh! ...The sweetness of your lavender lips! For now I shall call you my lady with the midnight hair! Pray, tell me are you also taken prisoner upon the ark of passion, for I fancy your blushes foretell of a deeper pool of desire." Gabriel pushes back upon the open window of the grand coach and a roar of laughter echoes across the soft undulations of the escarpment.

"…Driver quickly away! Away from this impertinent scoundrel, and be heavy with the scourge, for these foul moments are but a pauper's discard - quickly away I say. …The shadow of that odious creature shames my eyes - away!"

The wheels of the heavy carriage bite into the hardened ruts of the road, and the ensemble of beast and coach veer violently away into a swirl of dust and headlong into the waiting afternoon.

A laughing voice follows the swaying coach upon its dubious sojourn, "Yes, flee my lady with the midnight hair, for whether you take the King's road, or the low road into despair, my maiden fair, for in your heart there too I will dwell!"

***

The long shadow of the tall gallows stands straight and stark in the plaza, and their foreboding gloom stretches across the dusty town like a black atonement. The indictment is laid naked, and the dark deed is nearly done...

"Will no-one speak for this man?" asks the figure in black, standing in the gloom. Slowly he unfurls the coarse rope from its anchor and gazes into the drawn faces of the curious, awaiting the final response. He waits, but is greeted only with a shouting silence. The long silence holds its breath, however, descending through the warm morning air, drifts the lace handkerchief of a lady.

The small white lace fabric flutters gracefully down, to rest upon the back of a standing donkey. A crowd pushes forward and many hands snatch eagerly at the fine limp lace. The donkey shies away from the onslaught, and the burdensome cart to which it is tethered capsizes, and small oranges roll out across the dusty street.

"I speak for him..."

A tall black-silhouetted figure stands upon the balcony of an ornate and dazzling whitewashed town house, and many eyes turn to its balcony. The figure moves back into the shadows, and away from the crystal words that echo across the street. At her side, standing upright and tall, looms the imposing figure of Don Miguel Santa Fortissima excellently turned out in the scarlet tunic that bears the bold emblem of City Mayor. He raises his hand to the advocate of Hades, and with a short wave the captive is released from the gallows.

"You have some use of this creature, my dear?"

"Why, yes my husband. ...Why waste the life of such a criminal, when there is so much that is to be done for the town, and indeed this very villa? Perhaps your Grace would consider release of this soul for the benefit of the stables - we have so few grooms since the war, and it would be an act of kindness for the people to speak of..."

"How tender, and compassionate you are my dear. The scoundrel is know to the merchants of the town, and this Gabriel Hortez is well known of our disfavour too, and worthy of the noose - yet I can deny you nothing my dove."

"...Thank you my lord..."

"Yes, and it would please me if you could find the patience and grace, to oversee the censure and training of this wretch, wherever you should desire. Yet have a care my dear, and be sure not to spare your wrath, if he should displease you in any way!"

"Indeed my lord. I will attend your wise counsel, and ensure that this villain is made to understand the error of his ways..."

***

"You mean me harm, figure of the shadows?"

The tall black form of a fine lady slowly emerges, into the good light of the new day.

"Be on with your duty! …Pray cut me without delay, so that my blood may wash the floor of your lofty stables and over-fed horses. …Yet, is it not worthy, that the condemned should see the face of his nemesis?"

The tall black form of the lady slowly pulls away a dark veil from her face.

"…Ahh! …So I see it now! Why this is a glad-dog day for the immortals! My lady with the midnight hair! …Is it truly you?"

"Hold your tongue, for your life hangs by a silver thread, a thread that even I may be unable to stitch together again; so heed my words, and have a care of your audacity…"

"Come closer my lady, so that I may gaze once more into the pools of your soul, for though I have loved many a sweet briar, there was never such a face that so surely reigned the heart of Gabriel Hortez! …If this be my last view - I am well served!" The swarthy prisoner approaches the bars of the high stall, and reaches out his large hand, yet the heavy chain to which he is manacled pulls back in grim response.

"Quietly with your words! You will alarm the guards that stand by my husband's order, and I have but a little time to disclose my cares…"

"Ahh! So it is the truth! …You too have the music of the lute in your heart!"

"…Softly please! I hear martial footsteps in the courtyard beyond…"

"Closer then my lady, for now is the time of our brief alliance, and so brief a time it must be, yet all the words of the world could not break our bond. I wait upon your lips, my lady with the midnight hair..."

The lady nears, and two form as one, upon the long kiss of forever…

End...