Children of the Knight (11 page)

Mark’s eyes widened with fear. “Oh shit, the cops! We gotta jet, man.”

Arthur calmly reined in his horse and turned back to the boys. “Halt and stand without fear. Thou art under my protection.”

Within the police cruiser, the two officers reacted with startled amazement as Arthur and his entourage became visible through their windshield.

“Holy shit, Mel, look at that!” exclaimed the one riding shotgun.

The driver shook his head in disgust. “Call it in. We’ll need backup. Damn, I hate West Hollywood.”

As the police cruiser slowed to a stop in front of Arthur and his boys, some pedestrians across the street stopped to observe. Both had their cell phones instantly up and recording, hoping for something that might make them famous. They would not be disappointed.

Arthur sat calmly atop Llamrei, who neighed nervously as the two cops exited the vehicle and approached the group with caution. The new boys fidgeted nervously, ready to bolt if this didn’t go well, but Arthur’s squires stood their ground, hands to their waists in case blades should be required.

“Hold it right there, mister!” said Mel, the older of the two who’d thought he’d seen it all before tonight.

Arthur smiled with amusement. “Methinks we be already stopped, sir.”

Nervous laughter floated up from the boys in the rear. The other cop, a mere rookie, suddenly noticed Arthur’s sword, which he’d begun carrying despite Lance’s admonitions to the contrary.

“Shit, he’s got a sword!”

He drew his service pistol instantly, and Mel rapidly followed suit. The new boys jumped back a step at the appearance of the guns, but Arthur’s boys stood fast. His training was paying off.

“Okay, mister,” Mel began, waving the barrel of his gun at Arthur, “down off the horse and put the sword on the ground.”

Arthur shook his head, his long hair catching the light of the street lamps and almost glowing. “Nay. King Arthur answers to no one but God and his own conscience.”

The cops exchanged a quick, startled look. “King Arthur?” Mel exclaimed in bewilderment.

Arthur nodded. “Aye, and I shalt allow no harm to befall my noble squires.”

Mel nervously eyed the boys flanking Arthur, suspecting they were armed, but not certain, and then jerked his head toward the ones in back. “I don’t know nothing about these kids in front, mister, but those
squires
of yours in the rear, and I do mean
rear
, are prostitutes, which happens to be a crime in this city.”

Arthur cocked his head to gaze down at these men of the law in astonishment. “Ye, the adult establishment of this city have cast these children into the streets to live as animals. Why wouldst thou now lay claim to that which thou hast previously discarded?”

Now the rookie piped up. “Cuz they’re breaking the law, pal, just like you are. This area’s not even zoned for horses.”

Arthur again shook his head in amazement. “Do not force me to use Excalibur, for I have no wish to harm thee.”

He gripped Excalibur’s hilt, and the nervous rookie fired his gun. The bullet ricocheted off Arthur’s armor with a harmless
ping
, to the open-mouthed amazement of the boys and the cops. Still clutching Excalibur’s hilt, Arthur whipped out a small dirk with his other hand and flung it expertly at the rookie, cutting the man’s hand and knocking the gun from his grasp. Gun and dagger both skittered out of reach under the police car as the rookie’s hand gushed copious torrents of blood.

As Mel raised his own firearm, Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and swung it down hard so that the flat of the blade struck Mel with an audible crunch on the forearm, sending his gun clattering out of reach. Mel gripped his injured arm and grimaced with pain.

“Shit, I think you broke my arm!”

Arthur sheathed Excalibur and fixed his potent brown eyes upon the two injured officers of the law. “Let this be a warning to all who doth abuse justice—corruption hath a new enemy, and his name be Arthur Pendragon.”

The far distant sound of approaching sirens cut through the night, and Mark leapt forward to Arthur’s side. “There’s more coming, Arthur. We gotta bounce, now!”

Arthur grabbed Llamrei’s reins. “Godspeed, lads. We’re away!” He spurred the horse into a fast trot down a side street as the boys hurriedly ran after him. The two officers watched them escape with a mixture of anger and wonder.

“What the hell was all that?” Mel asked his partner, but the rookie just shrugged and fought to staunch his bleeding hand.

The pedestrians with their cell phones ceased filming and jumped into the air with glee, high-fiving one another.

A
LL
the children slept soundly within the dank underbelly of the city. Chris lay curled in a ball, wrapped tightly in his blanket in a quiet corner. The only one awake was Lance. He paced nervously back and forth like a caged tiger, flipping his skateboard from hand to hand. Drawn to the commotion of voices, his gaze spun quickly in that direction. Excited, animated voices heading toward him from one of the tunnels. He also heard the echoing clop, clop of Llamrei. Relief flooded his heart and soul. At last!

He stood still, facing the tunnel from which emanated the voices and chatter. Then Arthur appeared, sitting astride Llamrei and looking rock solid and secure. Lance let out the breath he’d been holding. He’d let his imagination run away again, had considered all manner of accidents that could have befallen his—

No! Don’t think like that. He’s not.

He’s my king
,
that’s all
. Lance finished his thought before the distraction of the new boys caught his attention.

“Uh, what happened out there, Arthur?” He eyed the tight clothes of Mark and Jack and the other newbies, and a chill ran through his body. “Everything all right?” he asked, trying for strength and confidence but knowing he sounded weak and surprised.

Some of the sleeping boys in the nearest tunnel awoke from the commotion and gaped sleepily at the newcomers.

Mark lurched forward and blurted, “It was great, man! Arthur took out these two cops with that big-ass sword a his!”

He waved his skinny arms in imitation of Arthur’s movements, momentarily distracting Lance at the sight of the needle tracks.

Lance pulled his attention back to Arthur. “You killed ’em?”

Arthur shook his head and dismounted, deftly removing his chest plate and handing it to one of the boys who’d set out with him, then gazed at Lance with surprise. “Nay, Lance, thou dost know better.”

Lance looked away, feeling small and stupid. He
did
know better. Arthur’d never kill anyone, not less he really had to.

Now Jack stepped up beside Mark and gushed, “The cop shot ’im, and the bullet bounced off, just like a fuckin’ superhero! It was awesome, wasn’t it, Mark?” He threw his muscular arm around Mark and hugged him, and the shaggy blond nodded. Lance’s eyes went wide with horror, and a chill traveled up his back into his throat. Jack turned back to Arthur. “How much does that sword weigh, anyways?”

Arthur placed one gauntleted hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Enough, Jack. Thou shalt all have time to learn of our ways. Lavern, attend please.”

The small wiry black boy, bleary eyed from sleep, quickly shook himself awake and stepped forward to stand before Arthur. He’d decided living with Arthur was preferable to being slapped around by his mother every day. Besides, he was turning into an expert marksman, and that excited him.

“Yes, Arthur?” Lavern asked expectantly, looking a bit comical in the oversized tunic that dropped past his bony knees.

Arthur indicated the new boys with a wave of his hand. “Taketh our new recruits. Give them food and beds to rest their heads.”

Lance continued to gape at Jack’s arm draped around Mark. There was something about those two that unnerved him. Jack caught Lance staring and blew a kiss his way when Arthur’s back was turned. Lance bristled with indignation.

“Yes, sire,” agreed Lavern, and he turned to the newcomers. “Come wit’ me.”

As the new recruits, still buzzing with excitement, followed the small boy back into the tunnels behind the throne, Mark and Jack sauntered past Lance, who stepped forward to block them. He asked quietly, “You guys fags or what?”

Mark prickled instantly. “So what if we are, beaner!”

“Why?” Jack chimed in with a wink and a leer. “You one of us, pretty boy?”

Rage engulfed Lance, and he reared back to slug Jack, but his upraised fist was grabbed by Arthur’s hand and held in an iron grip. Lance could do nothing but fume.

“Mark, Jack, follow thy fellows,” Arthur instructed them. “We shalt talk when thou hast rested.”

Both Mark and Jack smirked at Lance as they purposely swished on past to catch up with the others. Arthur loosened his grip, and Lance yanked his hand away.

Arthur gazed at his First Knight with concern, but the boy refused to meet his eye. “Thou and I must needs speak, Lance.”

Lance roughly pulled away from Arthur and moved sullenly down one of the side tunnels. Arthur followed silently. They moved past several round tubs they’d bought at Home Depot that were used for bathing and entered a darker area deep within the tunnel, lit only by a single lantern.

There were some ancient-looking chairs strewn against the wall beneath the lantern, and Lance plopped himself down on one, ignoring Arthur, refusing to look at him. Arthur carefully sat on a chair beside Lance, but not too close. He vividly recalled the incident in the park and did not wish to frighten the boy.

He sighed, but his voice remained gentle. “Lance, thou shalt be my First Knight. It be up to thee above all others to set a right and proper example. Fighting amongst ourselves beeth the greatest of evils, for it—”

Lance jerked his head up and looked right at his king. “They’re queer, Arthur!”

“And?” Arthur asked softly.

“And what?” Lance retorted, eyes blazing. “We can’t have them here.”

“Have they not been cast aside by thy society, just as ye and these others?”

Lance squirmed and threw his skateboard across his lap. “Yeah, I guess. But what if they….”

Arthur eyed his protégé appraisingly. There was more to Lance’s anger, he realized. As with all anger, it began with fear. But what was the boy afraid of?

“If they what?” he asked gently.

Lance just shook his head. How could he explain when he didn’t even want to face it? “They said I was one of ’em, Arthur! You can’t let guys dis you like that on these streets.”

Arthur nodded. “Perhaps not. But saying a thing doth not make it the truth.”

Lance shook his head. “I know what our goal is, Arthur, and I want so much to be like you, but I don’t think I can….” His voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper. “I don’t know if I can work with them.”

Arthur bent his head so he could look into Lance’s eyes. “They be lost children, Lance, like unto these others we have found. To reject them, to forbid them our love and fellowship shalt make us no better than those whom we oppose. Doth thou understand?”

“I do,” Lance stated quietly, squirming. “I just don’t know….”

“Lance,” Arthur began, his voice firm, yet understanding, “thou art my chosen one, thou art my First Knight, he who shalt command in my stead. Doth you mean to say thou canst not share our ideals and goals with
all
who need us? These boys be different in one way, yes, but they beest human first and foremost. Like you and I and all these others, they art children of God and thus deserve our love and fealty. I truly need thee, my Lance, by my side. More than ye canst know. May I count upon thy service, not just to me, but to all who find themselves in need?”