TW01 The Ivanhoe Gambit NEW (13 page)

"So what's the answer?" Bobby said.

Finn laughed. "Well, we could always go back and kill the son of a bitch who invented the crossbow."

He yelped suddenly as an arrow embedded itself in the tree trunk against which he leaned. It pierced his left sleeve, grazing his arm and cutting it.

"Stand and deliver!"

Three men appeared, each holding a drawn longbow pointed in their direction. Both men jumped to their feet, Finn first yanking the arrow free and throwing it down upon the ground furiously.

"It's Little John and Robin," one of the men said, lowering his bow. The other two followed suit.

"Damn, Will, you could've killed him!" one of them said.

"Sorry, John," the one named Will said. "I couldn't see that it was you."

Finn glowered at him. "Come here, you ..."

Will Scarlet approached hesitantly. "Now don't get mad, John. Could've happened to anyone, y'know."

Delaney struck him squarely on the jaw and Will Scarlet collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The other two began to back away.

"Stand fast!"
said Delaney.

They froze.

"Now, you two eagle-eyed marksmen, I want you to cut me a staff, a nice-sized one, and then you truss up sleeping beauty here and hang him from it like a stag. Then you can carry him to camp that way."

Anxious not to provoke him any further, the two merry men hurried to comply with his orders.

"We're going to start whipping these cretins into shape right now," Delaney said. "Their cozy little forest retreat is about to become Finn Delaney's boot camp!"

Discretion seemed the better part of valor. Although he was tempted to reveal himself at Ashby, Lucas chose to postpone the return of Ivanhoe until a more opportune time. What he needed now was Cedric's protection. Ashby would provide a good opportunity to make it up with his "father," but not during the banquet. His arrival at the feast would have caused quite a stir, especially if he attempted to reclaim his fief and announced that Richard had returned to England, as had been his plan. Such an announcement, he had believed, would have thrown John for a loop. He guessed that the prince would have stalled for time. With many people at the banquet still loyal to Richard, the very people John was determined to win over to his side, Lucas thought that John would have made a show of loyalty himself by returning to Ivanhoe his fief and welcoming his brother's return. It would be so much lip service and nothing more. Returning Ivanhoe's possessions would have been a small sacrifice and a wise political decision. Meanwhile, John would doubtless send armed parties abroad in search of Richard, to find him and to do away with him posthaste. If Lucas could get John to do his job for him, so much the better.

And certainly, anyone wishing Ivanhoe ill would not act during the banquet, where there would be so many witnesses. By giving up Rowena and begging Cedric's forgiveness, Lucas was certain that he would reestablish Ivanhoe in his father's good graces. It might not make Rowena very happy, but he would be safer leaving Ashby in the company of an armed party of Saxons. At least, that had been the plan. His growing sense of paranoia made him change it.

Finn was most likely correct in his guess that Goldblum had done away with Richard, rather than holding him prisoner somewhere. Holding the real Richard prisoner might have made for a bargaining point with the referees in case Irving failed, but Lucas was convinced that Irving was not even considering the prospect of failure. He was well ahead in the game and his possession of a chronoplate made the prospect of defeating him highly improbable. Unfortunately, that highly improbable prospect was all they had to look forward to. The alternatives were too frightening to consider.

Somehow, he had to discover where Irving was holed up. Either that, or wait until he made his move.

So long as he was on his own, he was an open target. He had to change the course of events that had led to Irving's clocking back with Hooker's body. He did not know if that was possible, but he had to try.

The danger was in second guessing himself.

He had fully intended to pursue his original plan. What he did not know was if he had already done so by the time that Hooker died. He thought back to Finn's analogy of dropping boulders in the river of time. His brain was in a muddle. Perhaps, by clocking back with Hooker's body, warning them that the boy would die, Irving had dropped a little boulder in the stream, had caused a tiny split in the timeline.

Assuming that Goldblum had killed Hooker, at the time that happened —at some point in the not too distant future relative to where Lucas now was—perhaps Lucas had followed through on his original plan and revealed himself as Ivanhoe at John's banquet. Perhaps it was
that
event which had led to Hooker's death. What
was
the absolute past in Irving Goldblum's case?

Whatever had occurred up to the point at which Goldblum had killed Hooker was absolute relative to Irving's position in the timeline at that point. He killed Hooker, then clocked back with his body to confront them with it, to flaunt his superiority in the deadly game. Yet, there had to be a scenario in which Irving had not done that, there
had
to be. He had to kill Hooker before he could clock back with his body. Therefore, there had to exist an absolute past relative to Irving in which Hooker did not see his own corpse, because Irving had to kill him first before he could travel back into the past to confront them with his body. At the point in time at which Hooker had died, there had to exist a past scenario in which the timeline had been different. Irving had now changed that timeline or split it. The danger in second guessing the split, if there was one, lay in the fact that Lucas had no way of knowing what actions he was to take, which actions he had
already taken
at the point of Hooker's death. Had he, in fact, followed through on his original plan and announced himself at Prince John's banquet, which event subsequently led to Hooker's death—or had he altered his plan, as he was now doing? Which way would play into Irving Goldblum's hands? Or did it even make a difference?

Trying to solve the riddle gave Lucas a tremendous migraine. Maybe Finn was right. Maybe Hooker's fate was sealed, and with his fate, theirs as well. But if he was to accept that, then what hope could they possibly have of coming out of it alive?

Lucas decided and prayed that he had made the right decision. Without a chronoplate, he had no way of knowing. And if he had one, then things would have been even more confusing. Perhaps it was trying to solve such riddles that had led to Goldblum's insanity. For the first time in his life, Lucas was able to appreciate the difficulties involved in being a referee.

The first thing he had done had been to find a safe place to keep his armor while he was at the banquet. After some consideration, he had decided that the safest person to entrust his gear to was Isaac of York, Rebecca's father. He had already established a cursory sort of relationship with Rebecca and he knew that she did not think of him in the same way as she did the other knights. He had reason to believe that he could trust her. Secondly, he felt that he could trust to Isaac's business sense. What he had done was to send Hooker to Isaac and Rebecca, along with his armor, to use as collateral for a loan. He did not need the loan, but it made for an excellent pretext. They would keep his armor safe, obviously ignorant of its true nature and value, knowing that the interest Isaac demanded on the loan would exceed the price of Hooker and the armor if they sold them in the event of his default. After the banquet, he would simply repay the loan plus interest (which money would come from his winnings at the tournament) and reclaim Hooker and his armor. He felt that this would seem more natural than simply paying them outright to keep it safe for him. In that case, they might grow suspicious and wonder about his reasons for doing so and why he had selected them for the task. This way, as a poor knight errant, was a better way and it served to help keep up appearances.

He had purchased a simple suit of clothing that would enable him to pass for a palmer, a wandering monk who had made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Even though the banquet was being held by John for his knights and nobles, as well as for the wealthy Saxons, he would not be denied admission in this guise.

They would allow him in and feed him, no doubt giving him an unobtrusive place in the banquet hall, which suited him just fine. It would enable him to observe the others without being too noticeable himself.

As he had expected, he was admitted to Ashby and brought into the banquet hall. The steward announced him briefly as a palmer just returned from the Holy Land. John made a curt bow of respect, inclining his head very slightly, and motioned for the steward to seat him. They made a small place for him in the corner of the damp hall and brought him food and drink. His arrival did not pass without comment, however. No sooner was he seated than Athelstane was on his feet, proposing a toast.

"My lords and ladies," the corpulent Saxon shouted, making himself heard above the noise, "the arrival of the holy pilgrim serves to remind us of those gallant hearts fighting to free the Holy Land. I propose a toast. To the strong in arms, be their race or language what it will, who now bear them best in Palestine among the champions of the Cross!"

Bois-Guilbert rose up then, goblet held high. "To the Knights Templars, then," he said, "who are the sworn champions of the Holy Sepulchre!"

"And to the Knights Hospitalers, as well," said the Norman abbot, Father Aymer. "I have a brother in their order fighting to defend the Cross."

"I impeach not their fame," conceded Bois-Guilbert.

"What, then," said Rowena, noting her father's frowning countenance and smiling slyly, "were there none in the English army whose names are worthy to be mentioned with the Knights of the Temple and of St. John?"

"Forgive me, my lady," said Bois-Guilbert. "The English monarch did, indeed, bring to Palestine a host of gallant warriors, second only to those whose breasts have been the unceasing bulwark of that land."

"Second to none!" roared Athelstane. He turned in Lucas' direction. "Tell us, holy palmer, were there not gallant knights of
English
blood second to none who ever drew a sword in defense of the Holy Land?"

All eyes were on Lucas and he rose slowly to his feet, thankful for his cowl and the fact that he was in the shadows. Ivanhoe had been away for quite some time, but surely his own father would know him if he had a clear look at his face. Lucas took a deferential pose as he replied, holding his head slightly lowered as if uncomfortable to be made the focus of attention, which he was, acutely.

"I am but a palmer," he said, "and as such, know little of the way of warfare. Yet I did see when King Richard and five of his knights held a tournament after the taking of St. John-de-Acre, as challengers against all comers. On that day, each knight ran three courses and cast to the ground three antagonists.

Seven of these assailants were Knights of the Temple, as Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert can vouchsafe."

It was one of Wilfred's favorite memories. Under questioning, it had been difficult to get the doped up knight to speak of anything else. He had been quite well pleased with himself.

The Templar did not take that well. He scowled and his hands clenched into fists.

"Their names, good palmer!" shouted Athelstane. "Could you tell us the names of these gallant knights?"

"The first in honor, as in arms, was Richard, King of England," Lucas said. "The Earl of Leicester was the second. Sir Thomas Multon of Gilsland was the third."

"A Saxon!" hollered Athelstane, joyfully.

"Sir Foulk Doilly was the fourth," said Lucas.

"A Saxon on his mother's side!" yelled Athelstane, to the growing displeasure of the Normans. "And the fifth? Who was the fifth?"

"Sir Edwin Turneham."

"Saxon, by the soul of Hengist!" Athelstane's voice grew even louder, echoing throughout the hall.

"The sixth! Who was the sixth?"

"I fear the sixth knight was one of lesser renown," said Lucas, "whose name dwells not in my memory."

"Sir Palmer," Bois-Guilbert said, tensely, "this assumed forgetfulness after so much has been remembered, comes too late to serve your purpose. I will tell you myself who this knight was, whose good fortune and my horse's fault gave him the victory. It was Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe and there was not one of the six who, for his years, had more renown in arms, as Sir Wilfred would himself be first to tell you. Yet I will tell you this, that were Ivanhoe in England, I would soon demonstrate which of us is second to none in arms and valor!"

"Well, then," said John, smirking, "we shall include Sir Wilfred in our toast, whose absence prevents his answering the challenge. Let all fill to the pledge, and especially Cedric of Rotherwood, the worthy father to so gallant a defender of the Cross."

"No, my lord," said Cedric, turning his goblet upside down upon the table and spilling out his wine. "I will not drink to a disobedient youth who despises my commands and relinquishes the manners and the customs of his fathers!"

"What," said John, "can such a gallant knight be an unworthy son?"

"His name shall not pass my lips," said Cedric. "He left my home to mingle with the nobles at your brother's court, where he learned your Norman ways and tricks of horsemanship. He acted contrary to my wishes and commands and in the days of Alfred, such disobedience as his would have been a crime severely punished! Nor is it my least quarrel with my son that he stooped to hold, as feudal vassal, the very lands which his fathers possessed in free and independent right!"

John smiled. "Then it would seem that we would have your sanction, Cedric, if we were to confer this fief upon a person whose dignity would not be diminished by the holding of it. Sir Maurice De Bracy, will you keep the Barony of Ivanhoe, so that Sir Wilfred shall not further incur Cedric's displeasure by being a feudal vassal of the Crown?"

"By God," said De Bracy, "I'll be called a Saxon before Cedric or Wilfred or the best of English blood shall take away from me this gift, Your Highness!"