TW01 The Ivanhoe Gambit NEW

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Authors: Simon Hawke
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him. De Bracy wasn't seriously hurt, but it would be a while before he could hold a lance or sword again. It would hardly endear him to De Bracy, but that was tough. If Lucas had his way, he would have killed him. He presented a threat and, as things had gone, he had gotten off easy. Lucas cursed his lance. Ordnance would hear about this. Now he had to square off against Bois-Guilbert and, priest or no priest, the Templar was no slouch with a lance.
    He saw the Templar take position and he noticed that he didn't raise his visor as all the others had.
    His reason for not raising his own was simple. His "father" and his "sweetheart" were in the stands and it was best for them to think that
    Ivanhoe was still off fighting the Saracens. He had work to do and he didn't want to complicate matters by inviting family problems. But the fact that the Templar didn't raise his visor showed that he had a temper. A temperamental Templar. Lucas grinned inside his helmet. That suited him just fine. When a man became angry, he was prone to making mistakes. And he hadn't seen Bois-Guilbert make
any
mistakes before.
    The trumpets signaled the advance and Lucas kicked his horse, knowing that he would need every ounce of speed against the Templar. He chinned the switch inside his helmet that controlled the degree of magnification in the lens iust inside his visor. This was something of a calculated risk. Using magnification power in action and at speed could affect perspective if he couldn't adjust from the magnified image back to the standard one quickly enough. If he was unhorsed and killed in the fall, the nysteel armor would not go to waste and someone would discover that it could do all sorts of interesting things. From a historical viewpoint, it could cause problems, but then if he failed in his mission, that meant far greater problems than just leaving a futuristic suit of armor lying around would cause.
    Bois-Guilbert had very good form, indeed. But Bois-Guilbert was angry and that gave Lucas an advantage. The Templar's shield was large and he hid behind it well, offering precious little target. His horse was larger than the Arabian, and he would be striking slightly downward. He had seen Lucas going for a head shot with Front-de-Boeuf and succeeding admirably, so he was holding his shield slightly high, in order to enable him to deflect the lance in the event Lucas tried the same thing once again. There Lucas had him, dead to rights. Thanks to the magnification power of his helmet, he had caught it just as the Templar was entering the lists. There was an exposed thigh that would serve quite well. If he hit it just right, his upward strike would unhorse Bois-Guilbert. Not a killing shot, unless he was lucky enough to strike him solid and pierce the armor, hitting the femoral artery, but he would settle for whatever he could get. Given the Templar's excellent technique, it was no time to be picky.
    Lucas chinned his helmet back to normal scan and let his breath out. Bois-Guilbert was going for a head shot and he didn't have the slightest clue that Lucas had already figured out his game plan. Lucas slipped his lance just below his shield at the last moment, leaning out to his right slightly as they came together, which was dangerous for balance, but it resulted in Bois-Guilbert's lance passing over his head by just a fraction of an inch. The impact of hitting him almost made Lucas lose his stirrups, but he managed to hold on. When he reached the opposite end of the lists and wheeled his horse, not having seen the results of his strike, he was satisfied to see the Templar draped over the fence, trying to wriggle himself to fall to either side. He had dropped both his shield and lance and his horse had continued on without him. As Lucas passed him on the return trip, he was disappointed to see that he had caused no visible damage. It was what he had been afraid of. He had felt his lance skip slightly upon impact and guessed that he had scraped

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