Children of the Knight (40 page)

“That’s not for me to say, King Arthur,” Helen responded smoothly. “That’s for the authorities to decide.” Inside, she was giddy.
This was dynamite stuff!

Arthur sighed. “Children are a gift, Lady Helen, and the hope of this or any country. Even in my own time, barbaric though it may seem to thee and thine today, we valued children, methinks, more than this generation. We did not have laws
against
children, and we punished those who abused or neglected or hurt them. These cast-off youth, whom your authorities seek not to aid, have become my new Round Table, dedicated to the cause of justice and the use of might
for
right.

Jenny felt herself drawn further and further in as Arthur spoke so passionately about these discarded children he was recruiting.

Helen asked her next question. “From our earlier discussion, you explained that many of these children you’ve recruited have been, or currently are in gangs, and have been actively defiant of the law. How do you plan to change their behavior?”

“By example, Lady Helen,” Arthur replied with confidence. “And by giving them a purpose in life that befits their humanity. Measure my success not on what these youths have done in the past, but on what they do now and in the future.”

“And what would you say to your critics who’d likely claim that these gang members you’ve recruited, while a sizable number, are not the most violent, hard-core ones out there, nor do they represent the real heads of the most dangerous gangs which plague this city?”

Arthur merely shook his head in amazement. “Milady, criticism without alternatives and without a commitment to change is the purview of feckless politicians who, rather than make changes for the good, would maintain what be called in this era the status quo. Thus, their claims be without merit. As in all human history it is the few who doth step forward to effect real change, real improvements in the lives of others. That requires a measure of sacrifice the adult leaders of this city seem not willing to give.”

He paused and guided Lance into the shot with him, arm around the boy’s slender shoulders. Lance blinked a moment under the harsh lights, but kept his eyes on Arthur as the man continued. “Are not the children with me now, like my Lance here, who seek a new and better way of life,
sufficient
? Are they not the beginning? Perhaps the beginning of the end of this seeming war against children? Must I turn the hearts of
all
to beeth in thine eyes a success? Thou and thine have not yet beheld what my knights can and shall do.”

“And what will that be exactly?”

Arthur looked straight into the camera, knowing he was speaking directly to the people. “Firstly shalt be the restoration of the very neighborhoods which spawned them, neighborhoods savagely neglected by those of your people in power.”

“And how do you plan to carry out such an ambitious plan?”

“I doth appeal to the good people of this city,” said Arthur earnestly. “Thy waste be our want. Anything thou canst spare will aid greatly our crusade. We should be grateful to accept any donation of whatever ye may be discarding. All shalt be put to good use.”

“You do know,” Helen went on in a deliberately cautionary voice, “that if the police find you they’ll arrest you.”

Arthur smiled and nodded. “Alas, the law and justice doth not always match up, Lady Helen. My knights, methinks, engender justice more than those who are supposed to.”

As planned ahead of time, Helen now turned to Lance and shoved the microphone under his chin as the cameras all focused squarely on him, cutting Arthur out entirely.

Watching his face on the TV monitor, Jenny again thought how beautiful the boy looked, how charismatic, how radiant.

“Any final words, Sir Lance?” Helen asked expectantly.

Lance looked at her soberly. “Yeah, I do got somethin’ ta say.” He turned his gaze to the camera. “I grew up with no family. When I’s a baby, my mom sold me for drugs. I don’t even got a real last name. DCFS put me in foster homes where I got locked in closets and beat up and abused and… worse stuff too.” He paused to compose himself and then gazed back into the camera, eyes shimmering beneath the lights. “I had nuthin’ growing up ’cept my skating, and I kill on a board. I’m goin’ to the X Games one day, an’ I’m gonna win a gold medal, so mark that all you people watchin’ out there.”

Helen gave a slight, manufactured laugh of support.

Lance half-smiled in response and then turned serious again. “But Arthur, he been everything to me. He took me in, he saved me, and he’s savin’ all these other kids too. You grownups out there who say you care about us kids out here, well you’re lying, cuz if you did care we wouldn’t be out here on the streets in the first place.
Arthur
cares, and he’s doin’ somethin’ about it.
We’re
doin’ somethin’ about it. You all like to pretend we’re adults when we get in trouble out here, and then you throw us in prison. Well if we’re so adult how come we can’t vote or even drive a car? I’m fourteen years old. I can go to prison, but I can’t drive a car.”

He paused a moment to let that sink in, pinning those piercing green eyes right to the camera lens. “This Round Table we got going, we’re gonna show you all that we can
be
somethin’ in this world, that we’re important, that we can be better’n all the adults who been hating on us. Arthur—” He glanced at the king and grinned before turning back to the camera. “—well, he’s the once and future king, and us kids like me—
we’re
his future.”

The onlookers watching the interview burst into spontaneous applause, as did the lighting crew and the van drivers. Lance beamed broadly, his face positively radiant under the camera lights.

“Well, I can’t top that, Sir Lance. This is Helen Schaeffer with King Arthur and Sir Lance for
Channel 7 News
.”

The cameras ceased, their red lights going dark. Helen was ecstatic. This was the best interview she’d ever snagged, and it might even win her some awards, hopefully a promotion to anchor. She gushed over Lance, as did all the other adults, praising his poise and his impassioned speech, clapping him on the back, and genuinely making him feel important and uncomfortable all at the same time.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Helen said excitedly. “You were great. I’ve got to get back to the station so we can get this on air.” She turned to leave, and then hurried back. “On a personal level, I think what you’re doing is awesome and any time you need some coverage, just call me.” She slipped a business card into Arthur’s hand.

He gazed at it questioningly, and a laughing Lance took it from him. “I’ll handle that, Lady Helen,” he told her with a sly smile. “Arthur don’t got the hang of cell phones yet.”

Helen smiled and hurried to her van. In what seemed like minutes, all the news vehicles were packed up and pulling away.

Arthur gazed at Lance, his eyes brimming with pride. “Thou art truly my greatest treasure, Lance.”

The boy blushed and felt an intense urge to hug Arthur, but held back. He was supposed to be more grown up now, the First Knight who could take charge of an entire army at a moment’s notice, and he couldn’t bear to have Arthur think him weak. “Thanks, sire” was all he could manage without getting too emotional.

At that moment, the onlookers from the neighborhood swarmed over and surrounded the duo, asking questions, shaking Arthur’s hand, offering encouragement, offering donations of stuff they didn’t need, all of which pleased the king. Some of the kids knew Lance from MTS and marveled at his clothes and wanted to hold his sword, asking what seemed like a thousand questions at once.

Jenny fell back, away from the crowd. Crowds made her nervous and uncomfortable. While happy for Arthur, and especially moved by Lance’s powerful speech, she’d developed a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that, great as Arthur’s crusade was in theory, in practice it could easily spiral out of control. And what would happen to these kids then?

So mobbed were Arthur and Lance by the neighbors that they didn’t even see Jenny slip away. Later, when the crowd had dispersed, Arthur sought her out hopefully, but she was long gone. He and Lance, feeling triumphant, mounted Llamrei and headed for home.

Chapter 8

A
N
HOUR
later, the interview aired after numerous promos piquing viewer interest in the story. Within the Hollenbeck Station, Ryan and Gibson sat before the flat-screen TV to watch, along with every other detective on duty. Ryan scowled with disgust as Arthur’s interview unspooled on the television before him. Gibson stood beside him, absently sipping from his Diet Coke, shaking his head in amazement. And, he had to grudgingly admit, admiration. This guy might be outside the law, but at least he was trying to
do
something. That’s more than could be said of the mayor and city council.

When Lance’s interview came on, the murmuring that had accompanied Arthur’s answers ceased, and silence fell over the cops. The officers listened to every word the boy spoke, and many grudgingly nodded because they knew he spoke the truth.

“Hellfire!” Ryan spat to his partner as soon as the interviews ended. “Get that woman on the phone. I wanna know where this interview was shot!”

Gibson, stunned by Lance’s harsh indictment of him and all the other adults in power, had to pull himself back into the moment. “Huh? Oh yeah, you got it.” He turned toward his desk, set down his Diet Coke, paused, and then turned to face Ryan, his voice tentative, his thoughts conflicted. “Say, Ry. You ever wonder something?”

“What?” Ryan grumbled, his ulcer kicking up again.

Gibson sighed. “What if this guy really
is
King Arthur?”

Ryan glared disdainfully at Gibson, who shrugged and slunk back to his desk to make the phone call.

B
Y
THE
time Arthur and Lance returned to The Hub, the overnighters had already seen the interview streamed on their cell phones, and they burst into spontaneous applause as Arthur rode Llamrei into their midst. The moment Lance leapt down from the horse, Chris threw himself at his hero and hugged him.

“You were the best, Lance!” he gushed.