Simon Hawke - Ivanhoe Gambit

He was brought before Prince John, who was ill disposed to name him champion. The fact that Lucas had laid out John's best knights, not to mention doing so in Richard's name, did not endear him to the prince. John insisted that the white knight would not have defeated Bois-Guilbert had not the black knight ridden to his rescue. The black knight, therefore, deserved the honors. However, when the call was put forth for him, the black knight could not be found. John had him summoned three times and when he did not appear, he grudgingly acknowledged Lucas as the champion, at which point a great cheer went up from the stands.

"Come, Fitzurse, let's away from here," John grumbled. "This day has soured my stomach."

"How, Sire, have you not accomplished your purpose this day?" Fitzurse said. "The people seem well pleased. They have seen a good day's entertainment, the champion is one to their liking and if a Jewess was initially selected as the queen of this tournament, at least the mistake was rectified and the Saxon girl, Rowena, installed in the office. All in all, a good day for the Saxons, one which they'll remember. It will make the new tax perhaps a bit more palatable."

"True enough," said John, somewhat mollified. "Still, I dislike these tournaments. They are a waste of manpower. This one has cost me Front-de-Boeuf."

"True again, Sire," said Fitzurse, "but this, too, can be turned to your advantage. The fief of Ivanhoe, which you had reassigned to Front-de-Boeuf, is now once again available to be assigned to a deserving knight. Might I suggest Maurice De Bracy? He and his Free Companions would serve you better if his interests were aligned with yours."

John smiled. "You are worth your weight in gold to me, Fitzurse. An excellent suggestion. I feel much better now. Well, then, since this nameless knight has opened up the way for me to award a fiefdom to De Bracy, thereby strengthening our bond, it would be well to honor him at Ashby. See to it that he comes. I am curious to see his face. Oh, and see to it that those Saxon churls, Cedric and Athelstane, attend as well, since they seem to love him. Perhaps we'll have some sport with them, and at the same time enjoy the fair Rowena's company."

Lucas accepted Prince John's invitation. It would have been inadvisable to turn him down. He was tired and sore, but he had already missed one royal banquet; to miss this one would constitute an insult to the prince. Besides, it was a good time to establish himself in his new identity. The Castle of Ashby was the domain of Roger de Quincy, the Earl of Winchester. While de Quincy was crusading, John had taken Ashby over for his own purposes. When the absent crusaders returned to their possessions, they would find them confiscated by the king's brother, who had strengthened his own position considerably. It would be interesting to see what effect his arrival at the banquet would have.

He had known that Ivanhoe's lands had been granted to Front-de-Boeuf. Now John obviously intended to turn the fiefdom over to another of his toadies. What would he do when Ivanhoe showed up to claim his own? More to the point, what was Ivanhoe supposed to do? Lucas realized that his own position was becoming somewhat precarious. Ashby was the key. Whatever happened next, he was certain that it would occur at Ashby.

Hooker was not in sight as he approached his tent. With any luck, thought Lucas, he's gone to get something to eat. He was starved. Tired and hungry, Lucas entered the pavilion.

Hooker was lying face down on the ground. The black knight sat helmetless upon the wooden cot. He smiled.

"King takes pawn, Mr. Priest," he said. "It's your move."

As Lucas clawed for his sword, the black knight chuckled and disappeared into thin air.

Lucas was bending over to examine Hooker's body when he heard the sound of someone entering the pavilion, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Cursing himself for being caught off guard, he spun around, expecting to be attacked. Instead, he saw Finn Delaney and Bobby Johnson. And Corporal Hooker.

"Hooker!"

It was Hooker who had gasped. He stood looking down at his own dead body with a glassy-eyed stare. He had been garroted with a monofilament wire that had cut very deeply into his throat.

"Christ," whispered Delaney.

After the initial shock had worn off, Lucas understood. Somehow, something had gone wrong up ahead. Irving had discovered who they were. Maybe he had known from the very beginning, wherever in time the beginning was. Now he was playing with them and it was a grisly game. Somewhere in the not too distant future, Irving had killed Hooker and he had brought his body back into the past-their present-to tease them with the knowledge that he knew and that they were doomed to certain failure.

Hooker doubled over and clutched his stomach. He vomited. Delaney grabbed him, holding him and steadying him until the shaking and the heaves abated.

"Well, I guess that tears it," Bobby said, as soon as Lucas told him what had happened. "We've lost before we even had a chance to get started."

"Maybe," Delaney said. "And then again, maybe not."

"You mean maybe that's not me lying there?" said Hooker. He was trying not to look at the dead body, but his eyes kept straying back to it, as though the corpse exerted some sort of magnetism upon him. He was badly shaken and Lucas could hardly blame him. He could not imagine what his own reaction would be if he were confronted with his own corpse.

"Oh, that's you, all right," said Finn. "And I'll admit that you don't look too healthy, but that's not necessarily the way it's got to be."

"Are you telling me," said Hooker, "that that's not real?" He pointed to the body.

"It's real," said Finn. "It's a real possibility. Or, to put it another way, it's a potential reality."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm standing here and looking at the way I'm going to die!"

Hooker was on the edge of total hysteria. He was just barely keeping himself under control. Delaney took him by the shoulders and sat him down.

"All right. Take it easy. Take a couple of deep breaths. I mean now, boy, do it! Come on."

Hooker inhaled and exhaled heavily several times while Delaney stood over him.

"That's right, don't be afraid to look at it," Finn said. "Don't let it rattle you. He wants you to be rattled. That's why he did it."

"But I'm going to-"

"Don't talk, just keep taking those deep breaths. Again. Again."

After a few more breaths, Hooker relaxed a bit and nodded.

"You all right now?" Lucas said.

Hooker managed a very weak smile. "I'm not all right," he said, "but I think I can handle it."

"There's only one way we're ever going to make it through this thing," Delaney said, "and that's to act as though nothing is real as far as the future is concerned. Nothing. And that includes that." He jerked his head toward Hooker's corpse.

"Sure looks real enough to me," said Bobby.

"Yeah, and it was real," said Delaney. "It was real when it died. But the minute our friend Goldblum clocked back with it, it ceased to be real and it became only potentially real." He glanced at Hooker. "Maybe you're going to buy it this way, kid. And then again, maybe you won't. Because by bringing this corpse back here, Irving has created a time paradox. What's more, he knows it. Think about this, now. He can't possibly know everything. He can't possibly have this whole mission knocked, because if he did, then why are we standing here and talking about it right now? If he knew it all, he could take care of us at any time."

"Well, suppose he can," said Bobby. "He just might be playing with us. With that damn chronoplate in his possession, he can damn well do anything he wants to. He can take us out any time he wants to."

"So why doesn't he?" said Finn. "Why hasn't he?"