Simon Hawke - The Timekeeper Conspiracy

"I only wish to avoid unnecessary bloodshed," Lucas said. "It was all a misunderstanding, nothing more. No offense was meant."

"And yet offense was given. And I cannot attack a man who will not draw his rapier. It would be unseemly and dishonorable. Yet honor must be satisfied."

The innkeeper peeked out from beneath the table.

"Would honor be satisfied if we were to fight with our fists?" said Finn.

"It would be most irregular," said D'Artagnan, "but I can think of no other way out of this predicament."

"Then it's settled," Finn said. "We duel with fists."

"Done," said D'Artagnan. He started to remove his bald-rick and Finn walloped him right between the eyes.

The blow knocked him back several feet and he sat down hard upon the floor. The innkeeper ducked back beneath the table. D'Artagnan shook his head, stunned.

"For such a little squirt, he takes a punch pretty good," said Finn. "I've laid out guys twice his size with that shot."

"That was most unsporting of you, sir," D'Artagnan said, getting to his feet.

"Fighting's not a sport, son," Finn said. "At least not where I come from. You either win or you lose and I prefer to win."

"Yes, clearly you are not a gentleman," D'Artagnan said. "In Gascony, we do not hit a man when he isn't looking."

"Well, I'm looking now," said Finn. "Take your best shot."

"Prepare yourself, my friend. Though you be twice my size, I'm going to teach you manners."

"Are you going to talk or fight?" said Finn.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "You know, Forrester was right," he said. "You are a ten-year-old."

D'Artagnan swung at Finn wildly. Finn easily ducked beneath his swing and gave him a hard uppercut to the jaw. D'Artagnan went down again.

"And that's that," said Finn.

D'Artagnan started to get up. His mouth was bloody.

"I thought you said that was that," said Lucas.

"Stubborn little bastard, isn't he?" said Finn.

D'Artagnan came at him again. Finn blocked his punch and gave him a right cross. D'Artagnan fell again.

"That ought to satisfy his honor," Finn said.

Slowly, D'Artagnan rose to his feet.

"I think you're losing your touch," said Lucas. "He keeps getting up."

"We'll fix that," said Finn.

D'Artagnan swung again, only this time it was a feint and he caught Finn off guard. As a result, Finn caught a left hook and fell back into a table.

"You fixed that real good," said Lucas.

"All right, enough's enough," said Finn. This time, when D'Artagnan came at him, Finn used karate. He stopped him cold with a front kick to the chest, then dropped him with a side kick and a roundhouse to the temple, both delivered off the same foot with lightning speed.

"That wasn't really fair," said Lucas.

"Screw fairness. This kid's built like an ox." He sat down and poured himself a glass of wine. "Hits well, too." He rubbed his jaw.

Lucas tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. D'Artagnan was getting up again.

"I seem to recall that we agreed upon fists, not feet," he said. His words were slurred and he was unsteady on his feet.

"He's got a point," said Lucas.

The innkeeper had ventured forth from beneath the table and he now watched with interest.

Finn got up again. "Feel free to use whatever works," he said. He put his fists up. D'Artagnan, moving faster than he looked able to, hit Finn with a chair. The chair broke and Finn fell to the floor, unconscious.

"That worked very well," D'Artagnan said. He turned to Lucas. "Now, Monsieur, it is your turn."

Lucas raised his hands. "Not I. We have no quarrel, Monsieur. If honor has been satisfied, will you allow me to share our wine with you while my friend gets some much-needed rest?"

D'Artagnan pondered this invitation for a moment. "Honor is satisfied," he said, "though I do not think that this is what my father meant when he urged me to fight duels. Besides, I welcome the chance to rest myself. Your friend has the strength of ten." He sat down at Lucas's table.

Lucas poured him a glass of wine, which he drank quickly.

"Finn may have the strength of ten," he said, "but I notice that he's the one who's on the floor and not you. Allow me to congratulate you. It's the first time I've ever seen him lose a fight."

"Finn? What sort of name is that?"

"Irish," said Lucas.

"Ah. And you are Irish, as well?"

"No, I'm… a Gascon."

"I would not have known it! We are countrymen! I, too, am a Gascon! You have, perhaps, heard of my father? He was a well-known soldier."

"Indeed I have," said Lucas. "Which is why I advised my friend to refrain from crossing swords with you. We have gone through much together and I would have hated to lose a friend to a swordsman who was the son of the famous D'Artagnan. If you are half the man your father is, my friend would not have stood a chance. And it was only a misunderstanding, after all."

"Well, to tell the truth, I sought to provoke a duel," D'Artagnan said, rather sheepishly.

"Because your father advised you to."

"Indeed. He said that it is necessary to fight duels in order to gain respect and a reputation. You have my apologies, Monsieur. I would have hated to deprive a fellow Gascon of a friend."

"I understand," said Lucas. "One must respect a father's wishes, after all."

"What is your name, Monsieur, so I may know whom I have the honor of addressing?"

Lucas thought quickly. Priest was an English name and England was the enemy of France. "Dumas," he said. "Alexandre Dumas."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Dumas. And I hope that your friend will not be ill-disposed toward me when he regains his senses."

Finn groaned. He started to sit up slowly. The innkeeper brought him a bowl of water and a wet cloth. D'Artagnan went to help him to his feet.

"I trust you are not injured, sir, and that there remains no ill will between us. Monsieur Dumas has explained everything to me and I see that it was a misunderstanding, after all."

"Who?" said Finn.

"He is still a little dazed," said Lucas. "Surely you remember me, my friend-Alexandre Dumas? I hope that blow did not addle your senses. It seems that Monsieur D'Artagnan and I are countrymen. We are both from Gascony."

"You are, eh? What did you say your name was?"

"Dumas."

"That's what I thought you said. I just wasn't sure I heard right."

"I fear I have damaged him," D'Artagnan said, with genuine concern.

"Oh, no, he'll be all right," said Lucas. "The Irish are a hardheaded people."

As D'Artagnan was helping Delaney to his feet, the door to the inn opened and a party of men entered, laughing boisterously.

"Did you ever see such an animal in your whole life?" said one of them, a tall, dark-haired cavalier with a scar upon his cheek. "An orange horse! A fit steed for a pumpkin!"

D'Artagnan straightened suddenly, and Finn, deprived of his support, slipped to the floor again.

"Forgive me," said D'Artagnan, helping Delaney up again. "I think that man is laughing at my horse."

"Who laughs at a horse laughs at its master," Lucas said, remembering that it was at this very tavern that D'Artagnan first met the Count de Rochefort, and that the man who had just entered with the group of guards could be no other.

"Do you think so?" said D'Artagnan.

"Well, don't you?"

"Perhaps," D'Artagnan said. "But I would not wish to have yet another misunderstanding. No doubt the man means nothing by it."

"How, nothing?" Lucas said. "Clearly, he was making fun of you."

"Indeed? Well, you may be right. Still, it would not do to be too hasty. See, we sit here as friends and moments ago, I would have crossed swords with you."

"That was quite another matter," Lucas said. "This man is insolent and should be chastised."