Simon Hawke - Ivanhoe Gambit

"My father would not declare you outlaw," said Rebecca. "Who would listen to a Jew? And I would make him understand that-"

"It is no use, Rebecca," Hooker said. "I cannot go. My master has given his word that I will remain with Isaac and remain I must."

"Perhaps there is another way," Rebecca said. "We must go to York. We would have left already had not my father business with Sir Wilfred. We could leave at once and take the same road taken by your master. That way, if he is somewhere injured on the road, we would be sure to find him. And if not, we could leave word here for him to seek us out at York. Since you would remain with us, your master's pledge would not be broken and we could inquire about him on the way."

"But would Isaac do this?" Hooker said.

"I will convince him," said Rebecca. "Surely, he will see that he has more to gain by such an act and, if Wilfred is in trouble, it is only right that we should try to aid him. If King Richard is, indeed, as fair and noble as you say, perhaps he would treat us more kindly than does his brother, John."

"If you help Ivanhoe, then you help Richard," Hooker said. "And you will find that the king will not be ungrateful."

Simon Hawke

Ivanhoe Gambit

"I will go and speak to my father at once," Rebecca said.

When she had left, Hooker sighed and looked miserably at the food which she had brought him. Suddenly, he had no appetite.

Maurice De Bracy and Brian de Bois-Guilbert rode slowly with a small company of men on the road that led through the forest to Torquilstone. They were in a festive mood. The sun was high and so were their spirits. De Bracy planned yet another banquet, to celebrate his new status as lord of the manor at Torquilstone. They had been riding for several hours when they came upon an unusual scene.

It was Isaac of York and his party, or what had been his party. Lacking men at arms to insure the loyalty of the guards and porters he had hired, Isaac had been taken by his retainers. He had paid them half the sum in advance, the rest to be paid upon the safe delivery of himself and his goods, but these men felt that half the sum left them ahead of the game if they did not have to chance running across the outlaws of the forest. They had managed to make off with the horses and most of his belongings, but not without a price. Hooker had accounted for three of them before being wounded himself. What De Bracy and Bois-Guilbert beheld was a scene consisting of three corpses with daggers protruding from them, Hooker sitting on the ground and being tended to by Rebecca, and Isaac standing in the middle of the road and wailing.

"It is that Jew, Isaac of York," De Bracy said, "and the woman is his daughter, she to whom that white-garbed Saxon knight paid tribute at the tournament. The man who is with them I know not."

"Oh, gallant knights," wailed Isaac, running up to them and wringing his hands, "take pity on a poor Jew who has been robbed and abandoned on this lonely road! My hired porters have taken flight, fleeing with my worldly goods, leaving myself and my daughter at the mercy of the forest brigands! Surely, it is your Christian duty to stop and give aid to such as we, for-"

"Dog of an infidel!" said De Bracy. "You speak to us of Christian duty? You of that accursed race who killed Our Saviour? What care I if you've been robbed, you who have robbed so many with your usury?"

Isaac looked stricken. "No, no, valiant lords, I did not mean to give offence! Please do not desert poor stranded travelers such as we!" He clutched at De Bracy's stirrup. "We must make our way to York and if only-"

De Bracy kicked him away. "To hell with you and your whole tribe! Count yourself lucky that I do not run you down for daring to lay hands upon me!"

Bois-Guilbert reached over and touched De Bracy on the shoulder. "Hold your temper, Maurice. Let us not be too hasty, lest we waste an opportunity. This Jew is rich. It would only be our Christian duty to relieve him of his ill-gotten gains. Why not take him to Torquilstone and there make him pay ransom for his freedom?"

The color drained from Isaac's face and his mouth worked soundlessly.

"Why not, indeed?" De Bracy said. "And since we found this dog together, we can split the prize."

Bois-Guilbert smiled. "I will offer you a bargain, Maurice. Take this offal and do with him what you will to pry his riches from him. For myself, I would lay sole claim to the pretty Jewess to warm my bed at Torquilstone."

"Done," said DeBracy.

"No! No!" screamed Isaac. "I beg you, take me and do with me what you will, but spare my daughter! Do not dishonor a helpless maiden! I beseech you, do not bring her to ruin and humiliation! She is the very image of my deceased Rachael, the last of the six pledges of her love! Would you deprive a widowed father of his sole remaining comfort? Would you soil-"

"Be still, you whining baggage!" said De Bracy, leaning down and fetching Isaac a tremendous clout upon the head. Isaac fell to the ground, unconscious.

Sitting where he was, Hooker could not hear the exchange between Isaac and the two knights, but he recognized De Bracy and Bois-Guilbert at the head of their party and knew there could be trouble. When he heard Isaac start shouting and then saw him brought down, he knew trouble had arrived.

"Rebecca, run!" he said.

"No! I cannot leave my father!"

He struggled to his feet and pulled her, trying to get her to flee into the forest with him. Once they reached the protection of the woods, there was still a chance that, on foot, they might elude the more encumbered mounted men, but Rebecca resisted him with all her strength.

"No, I cannot abandon him, I tell you! You run, Poignard, and save yourself!"

"Hold!" cried Bois-Guilbert, riding up to them. They were quickly surrounded. "You," he said, pointing to Hooker, "what is your name?"

"I am called Poignard, my lord," said Hooker.

"You are a bondsman. How is it that you travel with this Jew?"

"He has been left with my father as a surety for the repayment of a loan," Rebecca said, "along with some possessions belonging to his master, a Norman fallen on hard times."

"What is your master's name, Poignard?" said Bois-Guilbert.

"Philip of Doncaster, my lord," said Hooker, improvising quickly.

"I do not know him. These three men," he pointed at the corpses, "you killed them?"

"He fought to protect his master's goods, my lord," Rebecca said. "He saved them and the mule which bears them and was wounded in his efforts."

"Your master is fortunate in having such a faithful bondsman," said the Templar. "Take his goods and go. Tell your master that Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert has released him from his obligation."

"Wait, Brian!" called De Bracy. He came riding up to them with two young men beside him. He turned to his and the Templar's squires. "Are you certain this is the man?"

"There is no doubt, milord," said De Bracy's squire. "I recall that scar upon his face."

Bois-Guilbert's squire nodded. "It is the same man," he said. "The white knight's squire."

Bois-Guilbert leaned down, reaching out to the sole remaining mule and ripping away some of the rough cloth that was lashed over the load. The nysteel armor was revealed. He tore away the cloth and there was the shield with the uprooted oak upon it.

"A Norman fallen on hard times, you said?"

Rebecca looked away.

Hooker's heart sank. All he could think of was that vision of himself lying dead upon the ground, his head nearly severed from his shoulders.

Hunter poured Lucas a cup of tea and himself a glass of bourbon. "I'd offer you some of the good stuff," he said, "but you'd best take it easy for a while."

"This is amazing," Lucas said, slowly sipping the hot tea. "You've got Chinese tea and Kentucky bourbon, recordings of Bartok, Vivaldi, The Rolling Stones and P.J. Proby, Castello and Mastro De Paja pipes, Senior Service cigarettes, vintage Margeaux wine…"