The Loved and the Lost (18 page)

At the mention of History Camp, the younger Hansum relaxed.

“You're really from the future?”

“We're here to help,” older Hansum said. “Please, get down and you'll know everything quickly enough.”

“But Guilietta . . .”

“Trust me,” Hansum said. The younger Hansum looked at Pan, who nodded, and the youth slid off the horse, coming face to face with himself. As the older Hansum put his second hand on the other's shoulder, the younger one noticed the scarring around the thumb. “It's a long story.”

“Start explaining,” young Hansum said. “All of it. Quickly.”

“Okay then,” Hansum began. “He looked down at his chest, where Sideways's face stood out, smiling.

“It's like this . . .” the older Hansum began, and a spark flew off his sleeve and into the young man's back. Young Hansum slid to the ground, unconscious.

“So, that's the plan,” the more mature Hansum said to the A.I. cen-taur. Pan's holographic image was standing by his unconscious younger master, who was sitting propped up against a tree while Lincoln secured his hands around the back of the trunk. “If all goes well, Lincoln should be able to untie him by the middle of the night.”

“I see,” Pan said. He calmly watched the youth-turned-into-a-man walk over and retrieve da Silva's fallen sword. “So, this plan of yours. You're willing to make the sacrifice?”

“You know the answer without asking,” Hansum said as he hefted the sword and slashed it through the air a few times. Satisfied, he slid the blade into his belt and put a foot into the saddle stirrup, preparing to mount. As he did, Pan jumped and grabbed Hansum's shoulder, hanging midway between Hansum's and Sideways's faces.

“Answer me this, older Master Hansum. What's he doing here?” he said nodding toward Sideways. “This is Arimus's guy. Why is
he
helping you? Why not me?”

Hansum paused, staring at Pan for a second.

“You're busy with Shamira. And Arimus . . . he couldn't come. I can't say more than that.” Hansum pulled himself up onto the horse. “Anyway, I've got to get going. Sideways is going to help me and you're going to stay here with Lincoln.”

“But if you're from the future, that means this didn't go . . .”

“Don't ask, Pan,” Hansum said, pulling on the reins to turn the horse around.

“Ah, he's ready,” Sideways announced.

“Who's ready?” Hansum asked.

“Reach into my cloak. Something's just been sent for you.”

Hansum reached down the neck of his shirt and was surprised when his hand grasped something solid. He pulled it out slowly. It was a sword identical to da Silva's.

“What the . . .”

“It's a gift from the Association of A.I.s.” Sideways said. “Release your fingers so it will drop,” Hansum let go of the sword, but it didn't fall to the ground. It just hung in the air. “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to Pedang,” Sideways continued. “He's less than an hour old, hatched especially for this mission.” An image of a baby's face appeared on the wide end of the blade. It was like a reflection in a tarnished mirror.

“An A.I. sword!” Lincoln said, quite impressed.

“And isn't he cute,” Pan added. “Happy birthday, little fellow.”

“Thank you, Elder Pan,” Pedang said in the squeaky voice of a toddler. “Hello, Journeyman Lincoln. Journeyman Hansum. I am at your service,” he said, tipping his blade. “I am here to supplement your improved fighting skills.”

“Zippy,” Lincoln said. “Can you fight by yourself?”

“Yes, I can fight by myself or enhance a human's abilities.” With that he whizzed through the air, slashing and thrusting.

“Okay, enough. We've got to get moving,” Hansum said. “Welcome aboard, Pedang.” He tossed da Silva's blade into the bushes and snapped his fingers. Pedang flew into Hansum's grip and was slid into place in his new master's belt.

Just then the younger Hansum woke up with a start and began shouting.

“What are you doing? Let me go! Pan, you traitor!” He pulled against his bonds, using every curse he knew.

“Here, take this,” the older Hansum said, pulling off his time phase protection necklace. He tossed it to Lincoln. “Get that on him and make sure he understands why he's not supposed to remove it. I'll signal when to let him go.” He started to wheel his horse back downhill.

“Hansum,” Lincoln said.

“Yeah?” the older one answered.

“Goodbye, pal. It's been an honor.”

Without another word or nod, Hansum kicked the horse with his heels and took off. Still hearing his younger self letting loose with a string of curses, he looked back briefly to see Lincoln fighting to put the necklace on the other youth.

“Come back, come back, you bastard,” the tied-up Hansum shouted. “I've got to save Guilietta. Stop! Please.”

“It's all right, Hansum,” Lincoln pleaded. “That's what he's here to do.”

The bound Hansum let himself fall to his side, facing away from Lincoln. “Leave me alone!” and then he struggled some more.

Lincoln looked at him with worried eyes and then over at Pan, who was staring at him curiously.

“You two sure have matured,” Pan said.

“We couldn't have done it without you, buddy,” Lincoln replied.

The big horse thundered down the hill, carrying Hansum toward the Po River. They had been moving hard and fast for twenty minutes and the trees were thinning out, giving glimpses of the river below. That's when Sideways looked up at Hansum and shouted.

“Your younger self certainly was angry.”

“What do you expect?” Hansum yelled back, continuing to urge the horse on. “He meets us and the first thing we do is lie to him and knock him out. Hopefully Lincoln and Pan can make him see reason, and if we're successful he'll appreciate . . .”

Hansum pulled back hard on the reins and came to a halt. There were Feltrino and Guilietta, stopped by the shoreline. Feltrino was desperately looking back and forth, like he was trying to recognize something. As before, the river was wide, too deep for a horse to wade across, and too fast for them to swim.

“I'll shout what I did the first time, to make sure he reacts the same,” Hansum said. He stood up on his stirrups and called out, “Feltrino! Please don't take Guilietta into the water! It's too dangerous if she's tied up!”

Like the first time, Feltrino turned around and saw Hansum. He turned his horse and, pulling Guilietta's behind him, began galloping away along the shore.

“You're a little ahead of where you were before, Master Hansum,” Sideways said. “You're a better rider now. Slow down a bit, so you don't spook him.”

“Right,” Hansum said, sitting back down on the saddle. He watched Feltrino feverishly whipping his horse. And poor Guilietta, with her wrists tied to the saddle, she appeared to be holding on to the draft animal's mane for dear life. Hansum tensed, forcing himself not to bolt to her aid. Then, just as the two horses disappeared into the tree line along the river, Hansum saw Guilietta turn and look directly at him. Hansum kicked his horse's flanks.

“Not yet,” Sideways warned. “Steady, Master. Steady.” Hansum waited for another half minute before Sideways said he could go. When Hansum's horse finally got to the place where Feltrino entered the woods, Sideways added, “Now trot. Just a bit faster. That's it. We need to time it so events happen as close as possible to the way they did before.” After about three minutes, Sideways said, “Pedang at the ready.” Hansum, keeping his eyes looking warily about, put out his hand. The A.I. sword extracted itself from his belt and floated into his hand. “Stop here,” Sideways said. This is where the path split into two, one trail leading to the river. Hansum remembered how the heavily-leafed branches of the trees formed a dense canopy over this path, creating a tunnel of foliage until it opened up. “This is where Feltrino is trapped by a cliff over the river, with only this way out.”

Hansum pulled the reins to turn his horse into the dark passage-way. The bright light of the open river was about a hundred paces ahead. When he came along this path the first time, he found Feltrino well back from the opening, but couldn't assume it would happen similarly. A minute later, almost to the end of the tunnel, he felt Pedang rise a little higher.

“En garde,”
he heard a babyish voice come from the sword.

With Pedang at the ready, Hansum walked the horse out cautiously. Inching into the light he found Feltrino staring at him. He was in the same place as before, on his horse, almost to the edge of the water. Guilietta's horse was beside him. That hadn't changed.

‘Good,' Hansum thought.

“Romero!” Guilietta said, almost happily. This was like before. Then she said, “I thought it was you. Thank Cristo.” That was different.

‘Oh oh,' Hansum thought.

Feltrino stood up on his stirrups, trying to see if anyone was behind Hansum.

“Just let Guilietta go and you can leave,” Hansum said as he had done before. “Captain Caesar and his men can't be more than ten minutes away.”

“You're still alone?” Feltrino said, smiling. “That's enough time for me to kill a lowly apprentice.”

“Please, there's no need.” Guilietta said, begging. “I'll go with you willingly.”

“You'll go with me willingly or otherwise,” Feltrino said lightly. “I shall be back for you in a trice,” and he dropped the reins for Guilietta's horse and pulled out his sword. “My blade is getting a good washing of blood today, apprentice. Ready?”

Without thinking, Hansum allowed the sword hilt to flip back over his palm, causing the blade to twirl around in a big circle, coming to rest again at the ready. Feltrino dug in his heels, pulling his horse up short and stared at the apprentice. Previously, Feltrino had kicked his horse into an attack.

“Mistake, Master Hansum,” Pedang whispered.

‘Fool!' Hansum cursed silently to himself, remembering Marcon telling him to lose that move. He had shown Feltrino he had better-than-beginner dexterity with a sword. ‘From now, everything is going to be different.'

“Oh ho!” Feltrino called appreciatively. “Where did one such as you learn that?”

Hansum didn't care what chewed up time. Talk or fight, he was just trying to get Feltrino trapped here till the Podesta's men arrived.

“I taught myself,” he answered, speaking as modestly as he could. “When I was a child, with a wooden sword.”

“A wooden sword?” Feltrino repeated with amusement. Then he let his horse take a few steps forward. “Maybe,” Feltrino added. “Maybe not.” And with that he kicked his horse hard. As the horse bolted forward, Feltrino raised his sword point directly at Hansum's chest.

“You control the sword first, Master Hansum,” Pedang said, “so I can see what you've got.”

Feltrino's horse was next to Hansum in four powerful strides and Hansum saw the Gonzaga was going to make the same attack as before. At the last possible moment, Feltrino whirled his horse onto Hansum's flank, swinging his blade over his head in a big circle.

“Prima!”
Pedang said loud enough for Feltrino to hear.

The blade came at Hansum's unarmored chest with the added energy of the horse's momentum. But Hansum's blade was there, in the “prima” defensive position. Then Hansum loosened his grip, to make the sword vibrate. He needed to feign a weak wrist, but the truth was, he had not only strengthened and conditioned his arms for the past months with training, the doctors had authorized Medeea to give him some nano bits to cause bone and tendon growth. Hansum's wrist and hand now had the extra mass and strength of a medieval soldier who had trained since childhood.

Feltrino had his horse step just out of range.

“You have a weak wrist, apprentice . . .” Feltrino said. “When I kill you, I will take your horse as well as your looker. And of course, I'll still have the girl.” This dialogue was slightly different than before.