order for his theory to prove valid, they had argued, it would be necessary for him to exert a continuous influence upon the timeline. Even though, as he hypothesized, he would travel into the past never to return, the parallel timelines would have to come together the moment his splitting influence ceased to become a factor. The moment that he died, they said, the rejoining would occur. There was no chance of the grand scale split which he proposed.
He could not accept that. He could not accept that his influence, the role that he had played, would end with his demise. They were wrong. He would prove them wrong.
The single mistake that he had made was in sharing his theory with the other referees. They were fools, bogged down in their bureaucratic roles, interpreting the moves of pawns upon time's chessboard. They shook as if with ague at the very possibility of an upset in the flow. They were totally incapable of making the intuitive leap that was so necessary to the great discovery. As had always happened in the past, they-with their feet firmly planted in the mud-decried the attempts that he, the visionary, made to transcend the boundaries of ignorance. Genius is never appreciated in its own time, thought Irving. He chuckled. He had put a new slant on that cliche.
Once he became the king, once the interference of the adjustment teams was ended, there would be no limit to what he could accomplish. He never should have told them, never. He had given them ammunition against himself, warned them of what might happen. They had been prepared to move against him and they had moved against him before he could affect the changes he had planned. If he was not careful, very careful, if he made even one mistake, they could still win.
But he would not make any mistakes.
Hooker was convinced that something had gone wrong.
The plan had been for Lucas to secure a place in Cedric's party and, at the very first opportunity, to reveal himself as Ivanhoe to Cedric. Whichever way things went from there, whether Gedric would forgive his 'son' following his change of heart or whether he would remain intractable, Lucas was not to continue on to Rotherwood, but to return to Isaac's house and to reclaim his squire and armor. He was to repay Isaac the loan plus the interest-which was exceedingly high, doubtless owing less to Isaac's greed than to the fact that John was bleeding him dry-and from there they were to proceed to Sherwood for a rendezvous with Finn and Bobby. Ideally, if those two had managed to establish their position with the merry men, they would then use them to make inquiries concerning the whereabouts of the black knight.
But Lucas was overdue.
He should have been back by morning or, at the latest, by the afternoon. Now it was growing dark outside and Lucas still had not returned. Something must have happened.
He had to get his hands on the nysteel armor. The only problem was, Isaac was jealously protecting it. There was an additional problem in that he didn't have a horse. Finding a horse presented no great difficulty, but he still had to get away from Isaac. Technically, he was Isaac's property for the duration, until Lucas came to redeem him. As such, he was Isaac's guest, kept in a small room that was sparse and spartan, although clean. Bondsmen, as the collar on his neck identified him, were notorious for running away at first opportunity. His station was somewhat better than that of the average bondsman in that he served a knight, but he was still that knight's property. Isaac treated him well, seeing to it that he was fed and comfortable, which cost had been included in the interest, but Isaac felt that it was his responsibility to see to it that Hooker was still there when the white knight came to call for his belongings. He had two choices. He could escape and search for Lucas on his own, or he could attempt to persuade Isaac to assist him.
The latter prospect did not seem to present an insurmountable problem. Isaac had been planning on journeying back to York. He would have been en route already had not Lucas presented him with a business opportunity, one that promised not to delay him overlong. The story Lucas had given Isaac had not been too far from the truth, at least insofar as their cover story was concerned. He had told Isaac that he had family nearby, which would be Cedric, and that since he had enemies among the Normans, he had to contact his family discreetly. The vow which he had taken would be fulfilled when he once again rejoined his family and then he could reveal himself in his true identity. Isaac had accepted that. Vows were very much in vogue and many of them seemed peculiar. They served, more often than not, merely to lend an air of glamor to the knights who took them. If Isaac could be persuaded that something had happened to Lucas, perhaps he would begin his journey to York, taking Hooker and the armor with him and retracing the route that Lucas was to have taken. The merchant would not travel alone. He would hire porters and guards, thereby making the trip safer not only for himself but for Hooker as well. After seeing his own corpse, Hooker had no desire to remain alone and vulnerable.
Asking Isaac directly did not seem to be the best course to take. It would be better to work on the young Rebecca.
She came to see him when she brought his meals. It was a function that should have been delegated to a servant, but Rebecca had her own reasons for bringing him his food herself. She wanted to find out more about the mysterious white knight, the handsome stranger who had defeated all the Normans at the tournament and who acted like no knight she had ever seen, quoting the prophet Isaiah in Hebrew.
At first, Hooker thought that revealing his knowledge of Hebrew had been a mistake for Lucas. Time commandos routinely had to speak in many different languages, which was facilitated by the implant programming. It became quite automatic, so that a soldier could not only speak in virtually any language, but think in it as well. It was imperative to a soldier's survival. Lucas might not even have intended to speak in Hebrew. Given such linguistic versatility, it was easy to slip if caught off guard. The natural tendency, if reciting a quotation, would be to do so in the original language rather than to translate it. It was the sort of thing soldiers had to be on guard against. But Rebecca was more than enough to catch anyone off guard.
She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman Hooker had ever laid eyes on. He was still young, not yet a true veteran of the time wars and his service had been such that he had not had anything in the way of significant contact with women on the Minus side. He was used to modern women. The demure Rebecca, whose mercurial temper he had caught a glimpse of when she had chased off the physicians who had wanted to bleed Lucas, was quite unlike anyone he had ever met. One moment, she displayed all the spirit and vitality of the modern woman, the next, she was reserved and shy, a woman all too aware of the place she had been relegated to not only by her sex, but by her faith. She was a woman, real, tangible and indisputably human, but at the same time, she was to Hooker an embodiment of a romantic memory, a product of a simpler and more ethereal time. To the impressionable young corporal, she represented the romance which he had sought when he enlisted in the Temporal Corps. And, reality not withstanding, he was falling in love with her.
'How did your master learn the Hebrew tongue?' she asked him. 'It is not knowledge one gains quickly. On your oath, now, speak the truth! Can it be that the white knight is, indeed, a Jew?'
'A Jew!' said Hooker. 'How would a Jew come to embrace knighthood?'
'I do not know,' she said. 'It is a mystery. Yet, even though it is forbidden, it is not unheard of for a Jew to enter into a union outside the faith. A powerful love could perhaps accomplish such a thing, although it would be wrong. If a child were born of a Jewish father and a mother who was not a Jewess, then, in the eyes of our faith, that child would not be a true Jew. Our people have been sorely used and…' she blushed, 'it sometimes came to pass that a child would be born of… of force and the father would not be known.'
'But my master's father is known,' said Hooker. 'And Cedric the Saxon is no Jew.'
'Cedric the Saxon! So your master is a Saxon, then!'
'Rebecca, I have already said too much,' said Hooker.
'Oh, Poignard, I beg you, tell me his name! The secret would be safe with me. I would carry it with me to my grave if such were your master's wishes, on my God, I swear it!'
Hooker took her hand. 'Very well, then, Rebecca, I will tell you. And you need not swear, for I believe you are in earnest. My master has long been away on the Crusades, fighting with the king to free the Holy Land. In truth, he does not speak Hebrew, he has but some knowledge of the tongue. He consoled himself with studies, learning what he could upon his travels to keep his mind from brooding, because he had a broken heart. Cedric was ill pleased when his son chose to follow Richard, for Cedric is a prideful Saxon and he does not love the Normans. But my master saw that Richard was a fair and noble man and that he thought of English people as his subjects, to be treated equally, not as Normans superior to Saxons. A people can only be strong when they are unified. Richard went to free the Holy Land because he felt that it was just and right. Cedric thinks only of freeing Saxons from the Normans.”
