Chapter Two: The Duel
Brian tried not to think of the impending duel. He focused on something else which was bothering him. Brian was finding it hard to think that he would have to say good-bye to Susan in the near future, but he knew she did not belong in his world. She was used to things she could never have here and would miss them. He could not ask her to stay, though he very much wanted to. And there was Aveline, Lancelot's younger sister. She also stirred him the way Susan did. He was so confused. Was it possible to fall in love with more than one girl at the same time?
Brian ran his hand over the central console of the Tardis. Such a wonderful, powerful machine. Someday the people of his world would build things like this. Not the people he knew, but their descendants. The Doctor had as much as admitted that, when he had talked about time travel - the little that he would talk about it at all, with Merlin and Lancelot. Brian had stood by quietly listening. If he was quiet, the adults would not notice him and talk as if he wasn't there. But Susan was different. She had shown him around this wonderful ship and he suspected that the Doctor would not have approved of it.
Brian froze, a sudden dreadful thought coursed through him. A very scary thought. Lancelot might have children one day. Those children would have children and so on down the years and the centuries. Those children would inherit their ancestor's looks, their abilities, and maybe their intelligence. But people in his time only remembered back a couple of generations. Brian did not even know his grandfather who had died before he was born, though he knew his name. But he did not know his great-grandfather's name despite Merlin trying to trace his family back for him to suggest he had noble ancestors so he could become a knight. It was hard for Brian to think of very many generations before him or after him. But with the strong resemblance between Ian and Lancelot, Ian could be Lancelot's great-great-great... It was possible! They were so much alike.
Pushing away from the console, Brian ran outside. He had to talk to Lancelot. He had to stop the duel that was the result of Ian's challenge. What if Lancelot killed Ian? He might be killing his own child, well child of his child of his... That would make Brian very sad. What if Ian killed Lancelot? Not only would it cause Brian great grief, Ian might cease to exist because he might never get to be born.
...
Coming from a tilting field, Lancelot saw Brian a quarter mile away running off toward the castle. Young people! They were always in a hurry. He shook his head and continued on his way, because he had seen the Doctor headed this way, in the direction of that blue box.
When Lancelot got near the box, he scratched his chin in thought. Then he circled the box, tapping it on each side with his foot. Where was the door? Yes, there was a handle on one side of the box. Merlin had told him that the Doctor said the box was a disguise for a ship that flew between the stars. What a concept! And why do such a thing? Merlin had said there were other worlds out there, with people on them.
More than one world? Lancelot sighed. And a world was only a planet? That the Earth was a planet like Venus or Mars in the night sky, had only been a plausible theory of the ancient Greeks, yet Merlin said the Egyptians had proof of the Earth's roundness using shadows of the sun. It had been one of several tall tales Lancelot had heard of but never paid much attention too before the Doctor had inadvertently confirmed the truth of it under Merlin's astute questioning. Lancelot remembered Merlin once telling him "Who knows how our lives are ruled by the sun, the moon, and the stars." And then Merlin had delayed a contest for a seat on the Round Table so that this thing called an eclipse occurred, allowing Balan to become a knight of the Table because that trick of blinding him with a mirror could not be used during this eclipse. That was fortuitous, but Lancelot liked his world just as it was without this astronomy of Merlin and the Doctor.
With one hand on his hip, Lancelot leaned forward to beat his palm against the side of the box that had the handle, still lost in thought about the vast enlargement of his universe that these strangers had brought. Wasn't there enough to deal with on their lovely island with raiders coming from the sea and fighting between men on horseback and on foot on land? Must they now deal with danger from the sky? Merlin had asked this question of the Doctor and apparently no one had to worry for at least fifteen hundred years about any other people coming from the stars. But by Barbara and Ian's time, humans had air ships, Lancelot had learned from Brian via Susan. None of adult strangers would talk to him about that, though! It was just as well that no weapons would come from the sky in Lancelot's time, because he was highly skilled and confident with the weapons of his time and did not want this to change. Air ships! Not having to learn to fly like a bird was fine with him since he didn't even like to climb trees...but that was another story.
The door suddenly opened, making Lancelot take a step back in surprise.
"Yes?" barked the Doctor. "Well don't just skulk about out there, come in, come in."
Lancelot took a deep breath and stepped inside the Tardis.
As everyone did, the first time, he turned in a circle, wide-eyed. Impossible! It was bigger on the inside than outside. And the lighting in here was as bright as outside. Where were the torches hidden?
The Doctor waited while a disoriented Lancelot tried to regain his sense of proportion and orient himself to this new experience. So like Ian's first reaction, the Doctor thought. He could use this man who was stronger than Ian and used to defending himself and others. But no, Lancelot had work to do here in this time period. The Doctor sighed and asked "I assume this visit has a purpose?"
"Have you shown this...this...phenomena to Merlin?" asked Lancelot, ignoring the Doctor's question, to insist on a question of his own.
"You didn't answer MY question. I asked first," said the Doctor, sounding a bit petulant and a bit arrogant all in one sentence.
"Yes, there IS a purpose to my visit. Now answer MY question," returned a stubborn Sir Lancelot.
"Young man, you are as arrogant as Chesterton. No doubt you are related, somehow."
"He is no relation of mine, as far as I know," said Lancelot. "But it is him I wish to discuss with you. We have gotten into a quarrel. Over a woman."
"Why am I not surprised?" the Doctor remarked. "Let me guess. He has insulted your queen in some way. My boy, you must understand that he is not used to your ways here. You both are equally obnoxious and I should have realized you two would clash somehow. Look," and the Doctor paced back and forth in front of a blinking table set at the center of the room that Lancelot observed intermittently when the Doctor's steps crossed and re-crossed in front of it. "Just educate him. He is not stupid or uncaring about alien protocol."
Lancelot crossed his arms. "From what all of you have been telling me, he is not alien to my world and neither is Barbara. But you and Susan are alien."
"True. That is true. But it is beside the point, hmm?"
"Indeed. And the initial breach of protocol, if there was one, was mine, not his. I don't understand the courtship rules of his and Barbara's time. I have been paying some attention to Barbara and..."
"Ah, Ian took offense!" interrupted the Doctor. "Well, as far as I know, there is no understanding between them. You have done nothing wrong according to his culture as far as I can see. You might talk to Susan about this; she is more familiar with Earth cultures than I am. Now run along, run along, I am busy here."
The Doctor made gestures toward the door with a flick of his hand.
Lancelot sighed. He was not going to get anywhere on this topic with the doctor. "As long as I am here..."
"No! I wouldn't give your Merlin a tour of the ship either. And he would have a better understanding of what I could show him."
"No doubt," said Lancelot with disappointment. It was only as he had suspected, but curiosity would not stop him from asking. He took one last look around this strange place, then strode to the door and went out.
As he stepped outside the Tardis, Lancelot felt a sharp sting on his neck. Swatting at what he thought was a bee, a round object fell into his palm. He knew exactly what that was!
"Brian! Was this necessary?" he shouted. " You are somewhere out here in this field and not a prisoner in a castle this time! There is no excuse for this annoying behavior!"
Susan stepped out from behind a tree. "Oh, I am so sorry, Sir Lancelot! I thought it was my grandfather coming out."
Lancelot thought better of grabbing Susan by the nose as he had done to Brian for the same offense. Instead he said testily "I took a hit meant for Merlin once, and now I take one meant for your grandfather!"
Looking at the vexation in Lancelot's intense blue eyes, Susan again apologized.
"Just the person I wanted to see anyway," said Lancelot, his mood taking a sudden turn as he gripped her by the elbow and steered her away from the Tardis. "I want to ask you something. Has Ian any combat experience? What is his background in this area?"
"Oh. Well, he is a teacher," frowned Susan. "But he did a couple of years in the army during the war. He was very young then and he doesn't like to talk about it."
"War? What kind of war?"
"I think with guns. That kind of war. Not swords. How can I explain? More like pea shooters which are larger and metal and use a kind of explosion to eject metal peas that can kill."
"I see," said Lancelot, who really didn't see. "So he is completely unskilled with a sword."
"I would expect so, Sir Lancelot. Why?"
"He has challenged me. He will need to use a sword."
"Oh no! Can't you settle whatever the problem is between you, by more peaceful means?"
"I am afraid not," said Lancelot gently, taking her hand and patting it. He wanted to ask more about that strange metal pea shooter. It sounded very disturbing. What was its range? What tactics were used with it? But he had more immediate concerns on his mind and walked off to attend to them.
...
There seemed to be a lot of activity around the ship this day. Toward evening, Brian, Aveline's hand on his arm, approached Ian as he was entering the Tardis.
"May we speak with you?" Said Aveline.
"Why, yes, come on inside, as it looks like it is about to rain."
"Not unusual around here," said Brian, following Ian into the ship and once again, looked around in amazement.
"Rain is not unusual around here either, in my time," smiled Ian.
Ian indulged the two teenagers who were looking him over with serious evaluative expressions. He was looking them over too. He thought a change of clothing and they could almost pass for his students at Coal Hill School. The very human teenage traits of curiosity and eager playfulness were present in these two, echoing that of new students at the beginning of a school term. Ian enjoyed young people, for they carried the hopes of their parents, and would inherit their culture and continue it.
"Okay you two, what's up?" he asked.
Brian glanced at Aveline, and then took the lead for the two of them. "We just wanted to spend a little time with you, learn more about the future."
"I am not sure that is such a good thing." Ian frowned. "You are the past of my own world. Anything I might tell you could easily instigate you into changing that past."
"But you are our future! We would like to know that what we are doing here in King Arthur's kingdom will have a positive effect on the future."
Ian raised his eyebrows in a manner that was familiar to both Brian and Aveline from observing Lancelot. "Believe me; the memory of King Arthur's reign is legendary in my time. I should not say more," said Ian, raising a restraining hand.
"It is disappointing that you cannot tell us more, but reassuring that our beloved king will be remembered," said Aveline. "Is my brother remembered too?"
"Most certainly," said Ian, rising on his toes, with his hands clasped behind his back. "Now if you children will run along now..."
Brian said "We would like to stay. We would like to watch you inside your Tardis."
"I am only mending my sweater at the moment. Sewing on a missing button," Ian said as he picked up a sweater from a chair and sat down. He thought they would soon grow tired of watching such a boring activity.
"Button? You mean those little round disks that you use instead of lacing up your tunic?" asked Aveline eagerly. "I have heard of such clothes fasteners, even in our time. One traveler from the East had such a garment. But that needle, I have never seen one made that thin!"
Even a mundane task as mending a sweater was more than these kids should be seeing, thought Ian. But since it was already too late to keep this from them and buttons seemed not unknown to them, he nodded and gestured to a bench where they could sit.
They all sat in silence as Ian continued his task, the two of them intently watching Ian's hands.
"You are looking at me as if you are about to make some sort of judgment." Said Ian, putting another stitch through the button.
"We feel somehow responsible for you, for your behavior," said Brian.
"Yes!" Aveline continued, "As you said, you are our future!"
"Not that close a future to yours," chortled Ian.
"We have a connection. I can feel it!" said Brian leaning forward. "I can't explain it. But since there is this rivalry of sorts between you and Sir Lancelot, I must say it has been of some concern to us."
Aveline added urgently, "You and my brother are so much alike. Don't you see? Too much alike in your quick response to perceived insults. You resent being so much alike that you irritate each other. You should not be in a silly quarrel. And even though you future people are taller than us, well, my brother you see, fighting is his life and he is very good at it."
Ian put down the sweater. "Look, even in my time a man is protective of his lady. Your Lancelot has to understand I can't let this incident pass. What if we only use those practice swords of yours? Go a couple of minutes with them. I don't think either of us could be hurt, well maybe a few bruises. Would that satisfy the honor of both of us?"
"Exactly what I was about to suggest!" said Brian, bathing Ian with that radiant smile of his. "Good. Aveline and I will be there to see that this does not get out of hand. As his squire and friend of his sister, I have a great interest in this. And as for you, you mean something to me that I don't quite understand but it has a powerful meaning."
"Come, Brian, we have to talk to my brother also," said Aveline, rising and reaching out her hand for him to take.
"Well I am glad I could ease your minds in this matter," said Ian cheerfully. "See you soon, then?"
They smiled and nodded and hurried away, hand in hand.
...
The next day, Ian was extremely nervous and trying not to show it. He was young, agile, and had always been good at sports. But aside from some basic military training when he had been in the service, Ian did not keep up a daily regimen of martial skills as Lancelot did, and had not honed the martial mindset that Lancelot had found it necessary to maintain since childhood.
Lancelot was calm, almost nonchalant. He was confident of the outcome of this exercise, and hoped that it would satisfy everyone. He had praised Brian for his suggestion of using blunt practice swords. Sometimes the boy showed excellent problem solving skills. Other times...well, he was still just a boy.
Brian set two of the wooden practice swords on a table and stepped back. Lancelot gestured to Ian that he was relinquishing the choice of weapons to him. Ian lifted both; they were virtually identical. To him, this choice did not matter, for he too knew what the outcome would probably be. He only had to show a willingness to defend himself. So he grabbed one sword and turned to walk to the center of the dirt hard-packed area where people were crowding around, held back by guards. Ian instinctively moved around the circle of people until he was in front of Barbara, as if stating his possession and protection of her.
Lancelot walked to a position opposite Ian, swinging the sword as he walked, getting a feel for it. His expression was purposeful, as if he was saying "Okay, let's get this thing over with." This was duty, something expected of him and of Ian, not something he particularly relished.
Neither moved. They stood there taking stock of each other, and people could see that they were not really twins if they were paying close attention. Ian was a little taller and more slender, a bit rounded in the shoulders, yet defiant and determined. Lancelot was better muscled, focused, confident. Deciding to test Ian's balance and natural movements, Lancelot took a step toward him.
Ian took a step back. Then he realized another step back would bump him into a spectator, so his next step was sideways – to the right since he was right handed. Then he took a step forward, his weapon held low in the same position since he had taken it off the table. Lancelot, noticing this, moved his sword out to the side, then to mid height, then across his body - raising it at an angle, then back to a mid position, and slowly inclining the point toward Ian. This was an intimidating act which he hoped would force Ian to move his sword in a series of defensive warm ups.
That did not work. Ian held his sword in the same position, concentrating on Lancelot's movements. Well, thought Lancelot, at least he has the instinct to study his opponent instead of rushing into a series of rash movements which would leave much of his body unguarded and open to effective attacks. And Lancelot thought that after this was over, he would privately tutor Ian, invite him along to sessions he had with Brian.
Ian's nervousness finally got the better of him and he stepped forward, raising the tip of his sword. He also wanted this over with. The onlookers were a distraction to him, especially when someone coughed and a child giggled before being smacked quiet by a parent. He flinched.
"Never mind these people," Lancelot advised Ian. "Distraction is deadly, even though this exercise is not – learn to ignore them. Unless, of course, they are going for their weapons too," Lancelot smiled briefly in an attempt to inject some humor.
Ian did return his smile but his shoulders dropped, slightly relaxing his guard. This inspired Lancelot to make his move. Raising his sword to high chest level, he took two steps forward and swept the sword in an arc down cracking it against Ian's and almost knocking Ian's sword out of his hand.
It had been a light blow, to Lancelot's way of thinking, but it had greater effect than Lancelot had anticipated. Ian indeed was unskilled at this. But Lancelot did not wish to disarm the man before he had at least made a couple of aggressive movements to satisfy honor and to show bravery. Ian retained his sword though it had been knocked to one side.
Then Lancelot got what he wanted. And then some. Ian had been watching the knights at practice and had internalized many movements. He, like Lancelot, was a natural fighter, though neither of them knew that. Without even thinking about it, Ian stepped forward, raising his sword in a circle off the momentum of the blow it had received from Lancelot, to continue a movement out, around, down, and in against the other side of Lancelot's sword. The swords connected and Lancelot stepped back.
Emboldened, Ian moved forward powered by a hopeful shot of adrenalin and made his first mistake. He swung his sword out too far to the left as he swept it past Lancelot's sword, just grazing it. Lancelot jabbed and gave Ian a sharp poke in the stomach, then pulled his sword back and sideways in a blocking motion, anticipating correctly, Ian's upsweep of his sword to smack against Lancelot's sword. Locked in cross-sword position, Lancelot pushed forward, almost knocking Ian backwards. Ian broke the stance by side stepping, sliding his sword off Lancelot's in a disengaging movement.
"You have learned something by just watching us," chortled Lancelot. "I am impressed. But, you still have so much to learn, Ian."
Lancelot now executed a series of lightning fast moves which Ian attempted to parry clumsily. Still, he remained on his feet longer than Lancelot had expected. But the inevitable was only moments away. Lancelot stepped back to let Ian regain balance. Ian was breathing hard and lowered himself into a semi-wrestler's crouch to get set for the next attack. He was no longer in a mindset to be aggressive but he was determined to keep up a defense as long as he could.
Lancelot nodded to Ian, an acknowledgment that both Ian and the spectators understood as respect of one opponent for another. Ian had relaxed slightly again, realizing that he had been judged well, had proved himself. Before he could get set for Lancelot's next move, the knight made it – a heavy blow angled to Ian's sword so that it dislodged his thumb, the weakest part of a person's hand, and sent the weapon spinning across the combat area to rest at the feet of the boy who had giggled previously. The boy picked it up, examining it in wonder.
Lancelot moved forward and knocked into Ian with his shoulder, pushing him to the ground and onto his back. Then he dramatically held his sword to Ian's chest for a moment. Breaking into a smile, he reached down with his left hand to help Ian up. Ian hesitated for a moment, the crowd in suspense over whether this gesture of reconciliation would be accepted with good grace.
It was. Ian gave his hand to Lancelot and was pulled gently to his feet. Lancelot clapped him on the back, which almost made Ian loose his balance again, making him realize how tired he actually was. But Lancelot steadied him and the two of them walked off together, the crowd, clapping and smiling, and parting to let them through.
...
The next morning, Ian took a long walk with Barbara to explore the gardens and orchards around Camelot. He was finding it easier to express some of his feelings and she responded with warmth. They still only skirted the fact of their budding romance, talking about everything and anything but that.
The afternoon found Ian in the knight's practice area. Lancelot had sent Brian off to get them some mugs of water after a most satisfying practice session for the three of them.
"I see now that I let my emotions get the best of me and I shouldn't have challenged you," Ian said gruffly. He was enjoying having a twin brother, which was the way he was beginning to think of Lancelot. Growing up, he had repeatedly requested a younger brother of his parents. Lancelot had requested one too, of his own parents. All either of them got were sisters who were deeply loved – but it wasn't the same as a younger brother to tussle with, to perhaps bully a bit, and then make up with. Both men felt that need finally answered now, in a belated but satisfying way.
Lancelot, thumbs hitched into his sword belt, rolled a small stone with his toe and looking down at it; a gentle smile briefly lit his face. "I realized that," was his answer to Ian's admission of the jealous temper tantrum that had caused the challenge. "But to get respect around here, there was only one way out of our argument. Still, you had nothing to worry about; I would have seen to it that you were not too badly hurt, only enough to satisfy honor."
"I know that now. Thank you."
Lancelot smiled more broadly and looked at Ian with those blue, blue eyes. "And you had nothing to worry about with Barbara. I flirt and I tease and women like that. I like all women, and most of them seem to like me. When a particular woman has my heart, however, that is a very private thing and only she will know."
Ian sighed. "You are better at relating to women than I am, surprisingly, considering how much civilization has advanced from your time to mine, where the rights of women have vastly improved. You do well in your world with this outdated military technology, but I expect you would fit right in with the military of my time, if they gave you time to study it."
Lancelot looked thoughtful. "Perhaps. I think it is a mindset more than the particular weapons. You have to work at it. Even when you win tournaments and battles, you have to continue to work at it. What do you work at, Ian?"
"Me? I work at mathematical puzzles. I keep up with the latest developments in physics and chemistry. I attend teacher's conferences."
"You are more like Merlin than like me, I think."
"But I am not a charlatan."
"Neither is he. A bit of a showman, but at heart, he is a true scientist. Like you. Spend some time with him before you leave us." Something caught Lancelot's eye on the far side of the field. "I see the Queen beckoning me. We will talk more later, if you like."
Ian nodded and watched his nearly identical, but more physically fit twin, walk away. Ian had looked down on this time period as something childish and brutal that his more modern time period had outgrown. He suddenly realized that it was the same attitude that the Doctor looked at him with, accompanied by that smarmy, dismissive, I-know-better set of gestures that Ian had always bristled under. He was beginning to appreciate Lancelot. The man deserved more respect than he had been giving him.
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