Interlude Two
The screen had gone from full color to black and white with poor definition, which indicated that the probes were using infrared and that the scene was in nearly total darkness. Yet the red mare was proceeding without difficulty.
I hit the pause button.
"Tom, that horse is impossible."
"What do you mean impossible? Do you think that we'd doctor a documentary?"
"I mean that that horse can see in the dark! It acts like it's got a compass in its head! And the way it killed those highwaymen! Something's wrong here."
"You mean something's right here. Yes, that's one of our horses. She's the result of many years of careful selective breeding, along with a bit of genetic engineering. She has an IQ of about sixty and understands Polish perfectly. And yes, she can see somewhat into the infrared, and she does have the same magnetic sense that a pigeon has."
"Then what was she doing for sale in Cracow?"
"She was there because I put her there, hoping that Conrad would have brains enough to buy her, which he did."
"Look, there are some other things about this that you should understand. You know that rich American relative who put Conrad through school? Well, I'm he. Conrad Schwartz is my third cousin, and while I've never tried to run anybody's life, I have tried to see that my relatives had a decent start in life."
"Of course, I've had to work within certain rules. Besides the physical limitations of causality, I have two partners in the time-travel business, and we have agreed on some very sensible regulations. Tampering with history is out-we don't play God. But we do permit the helping of blood relatives out to the fourth generation back and their descendants."
"I had nothing to do with getting Conrad dumped into the thirteenth century. That was a screw-up by the Historical Corps, which is under Ian's jurisdiction. But once Conrad was there, I had a perfect right to help a needy blood relative. Being without arms and money in the Middle Ages is serious!"
"You mean that you set him up to get into those fights and capture that booty?"
"Not quite. I learned about the fighting the same way you did, watching this documentary I had made. I wasn't worried about him, since I had met him ten years later, alive and healthy. But after the second fight, when he was bandaging his arm, I hit the pause button and ordered a pair of 'merchants' with a chest of gold to pass through there four days before. On being attacked by highwaymen, they abandoned their cargo and fled."
"This left Conrad with enough money to live comfortably for the ten years he'd have to spend in the Dark Ages."
"And the sword, was that your doing, too?"
"Sure, diamond edge and all. What's more, had he gone to the Polish armor shop instead of to that German, he would have found a good set of Turkish plate mail, exactly his size, that he could have picked up cheap."
"Huh. Well, I guess you can't win them all."
"No. you can't. But you can sure as hell try. Now, back to the blizzard."
Chapter Nine
The dead knight's stallion was the first to fall. I felt it, but I couldn't see it. It got up and went on for another half hour. It fell again and didn't get up. It was crying in pain.
"Leave the beast, Sir Conrad! That sounds like a broken leg. But if we dismount to dispatch it, we'll never find our horses again."
I was learning to love our horses, and the beast's screams hurt me. But Boris was right; I left the stallion to die in pain.
We went on until we saw a tiny light ahead. Soon a great log barricade was in front of us.
"Hello in the fort"' Boris yelled. "We are two good Christians, dying in the cold!"
It seemed forever before a voice answered. "Stand close to the light! Who goes there?"
"Boris Novacek and, Sir Conrad Stargard. Is that you, Sir Miesko?"
"Yes, Master Novacek!" A small gate opened in front Of us. "Best go straight to the castle. I'll take care of the mule. Hello, the castle' Visitors!"
Our horses were taken away by a sleepy groom, and we were led into a large, warm kitchen. Four young women sat there. From their expressions, we must have looked like zombies. I certainly felt like one.
"We are sorry to meet you in the kitchen, sir knight, but-"
"First things first," I said. I pulled the kid out from under my clothes. "Do any of you know what to do with one of these?"
This caused a flurry of motion and fast feminine conversation.
"Oh, my God! Is it dead?"
"No. No! The heart beats! When did it last eat?"
"This morning at the latest," I said.
"What happened to the mother?"
"Dead," I said.
"Who, then?" She looked at the others.
"Mrs. Malinski just lost hers!"
"I'll go get her!" One of the women threw on a cloak and ran out.
Another carefully took the kid near the fire. "Diapers! The darling hasn't been changed all day!" She glared at me.
Another of them ran upstairs, presumably after diapers. The two remaining were inspecting the baby. We mere males were forgotten. I could see that the kid was 'in good hands.
I tried to remove my outer clothes, but my chain mail was frozen to my windbreaker. Distracted by my efforts, one of the women turned. "Oh! You men must be frozen. Come, sit by the fire." In seconds, we were handed huge mugs of wine heated with pokers glowing from the fire. We drained them.
Our mugs were refilled as the diapers arrived. Soon the three women were clustered around the kitchen table, with the baby in the middle. They were rubbing and scrubbing and making silly noises. It made me wish I were a month old.
"I never thought we'd make it here alive," I told them, "so just to be safe, I baptized him. I named him Ignacy."
Conversation stopped dead. All three of them stared at me as if I were a heretic.
"What a terrible thing to do!" the tall blonde said.
"What do you mean terrible? If he died without baptism, he'd go to limbo," I said.
"Limbo? You mean hell."
"So why are you mad? I saved him."
"No, silly, the name!"
"I named him for a good friend. A holy father. A Franciscan. Ignacy is a fine name!"
"For a girl?" This from the redhead.
"Oh. " I'd cursed the poor thing with a name she'd hate for the rest of her life. Boris was giggling but didn't want to get involved.
"Don't you know the difference?" the tall blonde asked.
"Damn it, woman, of course I know the difference! What? You think I should have taken her clothes off in that storm just to see what flavor she was? You wanted maybe a properly named corpse?"
They were silent for a minute, and then the fourth woman came back with a buxom, motherly type. The kid was fed on the spot.
By then, the ice on my armor had melted enough for me to peel the mail off my windbreaker. I hung it up to dry. Boris did the same. Then I stripped down to my long underwear. If they could nurse a baby, I could get dry. I confess I was annoyed.
Mrs. Malinski left with the kid, and the four young ones whispered to each other.
Then the tall blonde came over and formally apologized for ignoring us and being a bad hostess. Introductions were made. The tall blonde was Krystyana, and the others were Ilona, Janina, and Natalia.
The count was asleep and not to be disturbed.
Soon things were okay; the rift with our hostesses was smoothed over. The table was washed, and a cloth was spread. Food was put out, and our mugs were refilled. I said grace, and we ate.