The Quest

Aldonza jolted awake as an out of tune trumpet pierced the air with wailing, alerting notes. A response of deep groans could be heard echoing throughout the inn, and the shuffling of feet and clicking of boots soon exited and quieted with a dull roar. The sun was just beginning to peek over the rolling hills of El Tobozo; a new day was dawning. “Pedro?” she murmured, turning on her back with a grimace to glance for the man. He was nowhere to be found; the dirtied mattress was still indented from where his sleeping figure had been, so it was clear to Aldonza that it had not been a harmless dream but, in fact, reality.
She shivered violently as the morning sun crept through the curtains and tickled her toes. Aldonza had been so warm in the night, cocooned with blankets against the soft mattress. She searched for them and pulled them over her naked body, releasing an audible sigh as the shivers slowly ended and warmth was restored to her bruised, living figure. In and out of sleep she faded, and soon the cock was crowing and an angry fist was pounding at her door. “Aldonza, do you know what hour it is? Get up—the men are ravaged!”
The voice of the innkeeper woke her from her dreamless sleep and she jolted awake for the second time that morning. “Shit,” she murmured , stumbling and cringing as she stood up quickly, testing the limits of how much weight she could put on a single leg as she hopped to pulled on a skirt, a ragged top. Tying her hair with a scarf, she yanked the door open and ran head first into the innkeeper. “Lo siento, Fernando.” She murmured apologetically, glancing up at him through thick eyelashes that were still caked with sleep.
“Aye, it’s okay, but get out there, quick, mi hija.” He slapped her butt to force her forward and she hurried to the kitchen, appearing moments later with plates and mugs and food as she bustled into the courtyard.
“Ahh, there’s the little gem.” Paco called out, stretching his arms to envelope her in a sideways hug. She nodded to him, placing the bowls on the table as she maneuvered around it.
“Aye, amigo, don’t you mean the one who forced us to work this morning?” Anselmo asked innocently.
“I did no such thing,” Aldonza replied in a dark tone. “I merely saved your friend here—“ she punched Juan’s arm with a huff, “—from burning to death. I didn’t ask to be ravaged.” The words hung in the air for a few moments, heavy and thick like the smoke from the previous evening’s fire. She continued around the table, making several rounds to the kitchen and back with various plates of tortillas, a pot of stew, a bowl of rice and beans.
As she made her way for a final visit, she nearly ran into Pedro, who emerged from the inn with a clean shirt and pants on. He was not dirtied from the fields like his friends, but on the contrary looked as though he had bathed, combed his hair, washed his clothes. “Ahh, it’s the kitty cat.” He murmured, reaching out to grab her hand. Aldonza pulled him into the kitchen behind her and felt a wave of electricity spark through her from the mere skin contact. “Did you sleep well?”
“Fine, thank you.” She replied quickly. He followed her through the intricate turns from the table, halting when she opened a cabinet or stooped to gather mugs from lower cupboards. “Why do you ask, hmm?”
Pedro fixated her with a stare until she was forced to stop her searching, gathering, and look into his irritably attractive eyes. “Why?” She repeated as she was physically drawn towards him.
Seemingly pleased with the effect he was having on her, he leaned forward so that his breath tickled her lips, his nose giving hers the slightest of kisses. “So you can be prepared to be up all night when you meet me in the stable.” He murmured seductively, lowering his eyes so that he was staring up at her, tickling her senses with the feathers of his words. Aldonza felt her tongue go dry and her heart beat faster, though she stood up straight and turned from him with an angry sulk.
“What I give, I choose.” She told him in a colorless tone, the complete opposite of her spiraling, tye-dyed feelings.
“Ahh, but,” Pedro murmured to her, slinking closely behind her until his hands were intertwined around her curves. “Why do I have the feeling you will give me whatever I desire?” He placed a single kiss on the back of her neck, amidst her hairline. “Is it that damned curiosity again?” He continued. “That you struggle so much with, mi gato? I might intrigue you but, unlike the great sorcerer that is curiosity, I will not kill you.”
“Good.” Aldonza replied quickly, shoving her way through the door, arms tangled with multiple mugs. “Pass that along to your friends, why don’t you? ‘Seems as though they could learn that lesson.” She set the mugs on the table roughly and smacked away prying hands from a few risky muleteers, settling herself at her usual spot to the left of the innkeeper as the hoard began to eat. Pedro seated himself across from her and started the banter with his comrades; Juan was a heaving heap at the end of the table, the results of the previous evening’s hangover treating him unkindly.
“My apologies for the lack of food this morning, men.” Fernando called out to them through bits of bread. “It seems one of us decided to sleep in and neglect her chores.” He stared pointedly at Aldonza as she raised her eyes to the group, nodding apologetically.
“Lo siento.” She murmured.
“Ahh, it’s okay.” Pedro spoke collectively. “The men were up anyways. As it seemed some of them decided to act despicably last night, they were punished by tilling the entire ten acres of Senor’s farm, aye boys?” The muleteers around them focused on their plates, keeping their eyes down as they nodded roughly. Glares were shot to Juan, who was dry heaving and pushing his food away from him.
“Last night?” The innkeeper responded inquisitively. “What happened last night?”
“Oh?” Pedro questioned with rough sarcasm. “I suspected that Juan woke the entire country with his drunken slurs. Would you care to fill them in, mi amigo?” He questioned, receiving a violent sob and shake of the head from the one in question. “Ahh, well I guess I’ll have to tell the tale.” Pedro concluded, folding his hands on the table and pushing his empty plate away with an angry shove. “Juan decided it was a good idea to catch his filthy ass on fire. Aldonza heard the commotion and rushed over to him, lifting him away from the flames and putting them out before he promptly attempted to take advantage of her while the others—“ He glared around at his comrades with a sickened expression playing on his features. “—stood around and watched, cheered, even.”
The innkeeper choked on his mouthful of wine as angry fists pounded the table. His eyes met Aldonza’s, who were staring at him with a blank expression. “Is this true?” He asked her.
“Si,” she replied almost inaudibly. “It’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine—“
“That’s what the black eye is telling me.” He replied roughly, shaking the table as he pushed himself up from it. “Senor Juan,” he addressed the huddled figure, who rose his head ever so slightly. “If I catch you ever trying to take advantage of mi hija without first paying her, I will personally kill you.” He lowered his eyes to his as he spewed his verbal venom. “Now get up from my table and get out of my sight.”
Aldonza watched as he stumbled up and hurried towards the inn. “Filthy son of a bitch,” he murmured, patting her shoulder with a remorseful look as he slid by her and towards the opposite end of the inn.
Standing, Aldonza began to collect the empty plates and mugs, though not before exclaiming, “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Is that right?” Anselmo replied, turning his body to look up at the woman. “After all my brother’s done for you, you’re going to say that when it’s obviously not true?” He turned to glance at Pedro, shaking his head. “I told you this one was trouble.” She scoffed and slunk towards the kitchen, her head spinning from the desire and warning signs that were tangoing in mind, her thoughts, her feelings.
Aldonza finished clearing the plates and was scraping the remains into the feed bucket for the swine when she heard a faint voice from the other room call her name. “Aldonza.” It was a deep voice, camouflaged by a raspy tone that was questioning, intriguing. She set down her buckets and marched into the room yet again, her eyes demanding but her demeanor curious. “What is it?”
“She doesn’t want you, how could you think that?” A new voice replied; this one was higher and more vicious, mocking.
“I don’t, it’s just—she’s different, ‘Selmo. She’s hot.”
“Well, anyone with eyes could see that.” His friend replied, a dark chuckle escaping him. “I mean, look at the size of her—“
“You don’t get it.” Aldonza identified the first voice as Pedro, and instinctually slinked behind the corner, listening to the private conversation. “She’s hot, but not just physically—she’s a fire.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and then, finally, “No, she’s a woman.”
The scraping of a single chair filled the room, and Aldonza turned to leave when she heard, “A woman is a fire, man. She’s bright and emits sparks when she talks and when she pushes me or refuses my advances, it shoots a flame through me.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Anselmo questioned seriously, not understanding.
“Love hurts, mi amigo.” Pedro replied smartly, punching his friend in the arm before taking his seat once again. “That’s why it’s not easy.”
“Love, huh? But you just met her—“
“And you’re as dumb as a sack of rotten potatoes. As long as we’re both stating facts…” Pedro exclaimed roughly. “Don’t question it.”
“I—fine, I just thought—“
“Don’t.” Pedro answered. “It doesn’t do you much good.”
Aldonza leaned against the adobe brick wall, her head aching from this process of new information, her heart aching from wanting to believe him. Did he really feel that way about her? And if he did, how was it possible? Did he not realize who she was? She was unlovable, conceived under false pretenses and forced to live her life as filthy scum, murdering scum of the earth. It’s not like she had a choice, so who did this man think he was that he could just come into her inn and dictate how her feelings were going to change? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and it was completely irrevocable.
The day continued and passed through a current of chores, preparation for meals, a solitary horseback through the rolling hills and into town to pick up necessary items for the upcoming week. The moon rose fully into the sky, illuminating the terrain of El Tobozo with a ghostly light. Aldonza gathered her meager items and adjusted her airy robozo, gliding through the night until she was slipping through the Southern stable door. It was lit with a single candle, though there was no one inside it. She was sure Pedro had told her half past midnight, and she was positive that the moon gave its brightest glow at that hour. Glancing around, she placed her belongings in the corner and removed the rebozo, startling when she heard a voice close to her murmur smoothly, “Ahh, it’s the kitty cat, come to catch her rat.” Pedro approached her, removing his vest and tossing it lazily to the ground so that his formed chest gleamed in the hazy candlelight. Aldonza swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat and forced herself to look into his eyes.
“Alright, let’s do this.” She exclaimed, stifling her nerves as she took in his figure, the atmosphere, the sounds of the restless flies and lazy livestock. “What do you want?”
Pedro fixated his trademark smirk on her and pulled her against him; her arms instinctually wrapped themselves around his back, and she could feel his strong shoulder blades underneath her pulsating touch. He laid her down on a hay bale and leaned over her, whispering languidly in her ear, “I thought you told me that what you give, you choose.”
“I—I do.” She responded as he kissed her cheek, her neck, his hands tangling in the material of her shirt, between the layers of her skirts and eventually her bare skin, tickling with his lips, his tongue, his breath. “I do choose.”
“Then choose.” He mumbled against her skin, placing his knees on either side of her thighs and gyrating his hips with an impromptu shimmy.
“I choose you.” She responded automatically, forcing her neck up so that she could look into his eyes. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him on top of her pulsing figure. He kissed her slowly, passionately, deliberately moving his lips at the pace of a tired waltz. “I could do this for hours.” He told her teasingly, tasting her frustration and yearning that so often chose each other as partners.
“Please,” Aldonza murmured, choking back a whine in her throat. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what, mi gato?” He asked with genuine curiosity. His eyebrows knitted together as he rose from her form.
“No!” she cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders and bringing him against her once more. “Don’t do this for hours—do it now.”
“Now,” he repeated, grinning at the effect he was having on her. “Now it is, then.”
If Pedro was somewhat gentle towards Aldonza before, he was anything but when he made love to her. He shoved her roughly against the hay and clawed at her shirt, reveling in the feeling of her breasts under the lash of his nails, his teeth, his prying fingers. She howled out in pain that was mixing with pleasures as he removed her skirt and shoved himself roughly on top of her, his hips smacking into hers with a fleshy collision that emitted cries from both of them. It was rough, rushed, and completely, dominatingly hot. Aldonza winced and cringed and yet begged for more, feeling as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest as Pedro emitted a victorious, concluding groan.
The two fell into a heap of tangled limbs as they breathed as one, sticky hair plastering itself to their drenched skin as they huddled together, held each other, came down from the high that had filled the night with passion, sounds and humidity.
“Te amo, mi gato.” Pedro crooned into her neck, his eyes closed and a pleased look expressed on his smooth features.
Aldonza nodded. She had heard this expression many times, though mostly it was just an excuse for more sex, more money, more manipulation. Something about this one was different, though, she reasoned. This one, he was concerned for her. He looked out for her, aided her, took care of enemies for her. Was it possible that he could love her after all? And if he did—could she reciprocate their feelings?
“Pedro?” She murmured against his forehead. She arranged herself so that she was on her knees, her womanly curves accentuated by the lights as she stretched her knees over his stomach, against his thighs. Aldonza was sure of one thing: Pedro loved her. She, however, was struggling with an internal tug of war on where her feelings were for him. Nevertheless she lowered her ass until it was rubbing against his crotch and brought her lips to the corner of his mouth, sucking softly as her breasts hung and met his chest with skin-on-skin contact. “Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you are going to kill me if I can’t have you again.”
A surprised smirk overtook Pedro’s features as Aldonza lowered herself fully onto him, and soon the two were rolling in the hay, filling the night with sounds of wild love.