The Ivanhoe Gambit (TimeWars 1)

"Indeed," said Andre, "it is hard to imagine a woman who would not be satisfied with so passionate a husband as yourself."

"I thought you would understand," the sheriff said. "You're a man after my own heart, de la Croix. What say the two of us go wenching some night?"

"Perhaps we will," said Andre, "when our present duties have been done."

"Yes, one must always think of duty first. Still, a man must have time in which to be a man, eh?"

"True," said Andre. "Else women will forget their role in life."

"The sheriff laughed. "We can't have that, now, can we?"

"No, indeed. What kind of world would it be if women were to forget their place?"

"Perhaps they would even take to wearing spurs and entering the lists," said Guy, laughing. "That would be a sight, eh?"

"I think perhaps the ale has overstimulated your imagination."

"No doubt. God made woman to serve man and that is how it should be."

"Maybe someday you will find one who will serve you properly," said Andre, smiling.

"I'll drink to that," the sheriff said.

"So will I, Sir Guy."

* * * *

"Why so quiet, Andre?" said Marcel.

"I was thinking of the sheriff, little brother."

Marcel frowned. "I don't like him. He frightens me."

"I don't like him either, Marcel. He's an animal, not a man.

But then, the difference is a small one, is it not? We serve strange masters these days."

"Andre, why must we ride to Torquilstone? I'm afraid. I feel that no good will come of it."

Andre reined up her horse. "I have learned to trust your feelings, little brother. Have you a premonition?"

"The closer we get to Torquilstone, the stronger my fear becomes," Marcel said. "Let us not go there. Our horses are fresh, the day is young, we can put many miles between us and our troubles before the day is out."

Andre sat astride her horse silently for a moment, listening to the birds sing.

"Andre?"

"I am sorely tempted, Marcel. But I, too, am afraid. This black knight is some sort of sorcerer. One moment, there is nothing there, the next, he is standing at my shoulder. He is the devil's own, Marcel."

"Then we must fight him."

"I fear we lack the proper weapons. How does one fight a warlock?"

"I do not know."

"Nor do I. Perhaps we will find a way. Until then, we must bide our time and do his bidding."

"And what if we run out of time?"