Children of the Knight (43 page)

Chris reached up and tugged at Arthur’s leggings, and the king looked down at the small boy. “Yes, Sir Christopher?”

Chris grinned, but rubbed his tummy dramatically. “I doth be hungry, sire.”

Everyone who heard the comment laughed, including Arthur, who reached down to put a loving hand on the boy’s blond head. “Methinks we all be, lad.”

He and his kids had actually been eating all the while. The local ladies had been cooking and serving them food throughout the day as a gesture of good will and gratitude, but there had been no real respite. The kids had worked from the moment they’d arrived until now, and Arthur knew they just needed to sit and eat and bask in the glow of their achievement.

However, he hadn’t planned on where such a multitude could actually do that. He still had crown jewels to use for money, but where to use them? Trusting in God to give him that knowledge, Arthur turned his regal, grateful gaze to his troops.

“We feast heartily this night, my most noble and blessed knights!”

Once again there was an eruption of cheers and clapping and backslapping.

“Follow me, my lads and ladies!” he called out, and the crowd began reforming a marching line similar to their arrival, with the drivers hurrying to their trucks. There was good-natured jostling and shoving as the hundreds of kids queued up behind Arthur. Lance, suddenly remembering, ran to Enrique’s pickup and grabbed something from the back seat, hurrying up the line to Arthur.

“Arthur, wait! Methinks we should carry this.” He unfurled the large banner Enrique had created—the A symbol with a dragon in the background. It was attached to a pole, and Lance held it up before the king expectantly. Arthur grinned down at him.

“Well done, Sir Lance, and I canst think of no one more suited to the task. Lead on, my boy!”

Lance winked at Jack, who smiled back with a quick little flex, and hefted the pole high so all could see the banner as it wafted gently in the late afternoon breeze. Another cheer arose from the knights and the locals, and Lance began to march. Arthur followed, then Jack, Mark, Chris, Reyna, Esteban, Darnell, Lavern, Luis and the others on foot, the bicycles and skaters, and lastly the vehicles. As the triumphal procession marched nobly up the street, it was hailed by the residents and storeowners and children who lined the sidewalks to wave and gush and give thanks once more.

As the procession prepared to exit the neighborhood, it found itself blocked by a large, portly Latino man standing in the middle of the street.

Lance stopped marching, as Arthur shouted behind him, “Halt, my knights!”

The procession ground to an unexpected halt, with kids at the rear craning their heads to find out what was going on. Arthur gazed down at the newcomer expectantly.

“May I be of assistance, sir?” he asked graciously.

“You already have, King Arthur,” the stout, middle-aged man said with a slight bow. “I got to say I ain’t never seen a man wit’ yer heart,
señor
. Thanks to you,
mi barrio
be fixed up real nice. I don’ care if I go broke, for you and yer knights all the food you can eat. No charge. I say thanks to you.”

He bowed courteously, and Arthur felt genuinely moved by the man’s offer. “Sir, thy generosity doth humble me. Where is thine establishment?”

The man pointed up a small side street. “Just up there,
señor
.”

Arthur turned his gaze in the indicated direction, and did a double take. Just ahead, set off the main drag was a strip mall surrounded by some trees. At the corner of the mall, standing out with its colorful shield logo, stood a Round Table Pizza.

Arthur looked back down at the man, who grinned, and then at Lance. The boy just shrugged. “Works for me,” he said with a grin, and Arthur laughed.

“To the Table, Lance!” he called out for all to hear. Beaming with pride, Lance led the procession up the street toward the pizza parlor, leaving the cheering locals behind to bask in their good fortune.

R
YAN
navigated their unmarked cruiser through heavy traffic as safely as he could manage. His red light had been placed atop the car, but no siren accompanied it. Several black and whites zipped in and out of traffic in pursuit, also with flashing lights, but no sound. To passersby, it seemed odd so see so many cop cars flashing their lights, but not running their sirens.

As always, the bumper-to-bumper traffic in and around downtown bordered on horrific, and Ryan became frustrated, cursing under his breath. Gibson sat beside him with the radio in hand to issue orders to the other units as needed.

“Tell the backups to surround the area, but stay away from direct contact. Those kids are dangerous—we don’t wanna spook ’em,” Ryan said, taking another swig from the antacid and then dropping the bottle into his cup holder.

“Already taken care of, Ry,” Gibson replied with surprise, suddenly feeling like a rookie again whose partner didn’t trust him.

Ryan looked at him askance. “Sorry, Gib. I know you got it covered.”

Gibson nodded but said nothing. If the truth were told, this case was so out-there and unprecedented it almost made him
feel
like a rookie.

T
HE
Round Table Pizza was fairly old but clean and well-kept, but the strip mall, which it anchored, had fallen on hard times. There was a dingy-looking
lavanderia
, a small liquor store, a hair and nail salon, and a tiny tattoo parlor. At the moment, exhausted, but exuberant, boys and girls dressed in medieval clothing filled the parking lot and surrounding area, sitting in groups on the pavement, all munching on pizzas. The owner had instructed his staff hours before to begin preparing the pizzas, having planned early in the afternoon to surprise Arthur and his kids as a thank you for their hard work.

Arthur’s knights did not make a mess as might be expected from so many teenagers. Arthur had taught them well. Napkins, pizza boxes, and empty cups were all deposited into the trash receptacles scattered around the restaurant and mall.

Inside the brightly lit pizza parlor, which sported a corner housing old-school video games, Arthur watched in amusement as Lance, Jack, and the others dove into their pizzas with gusto. He marveled at this new kind of food, which he’d never heard of in old Britain.

“What doth this food be called?” he inquired of the owner.

“Pizza, sir,” the burly man replied with a wide grin.

“I think you can hang with it, Arthur,” said Esteban around a mouthful, sauce dribbling down his chin, causing Reyna to elbow him with a laugh.

Arthur grinned and nodded. “I shalt trust thy word, Sir Esteban, and I thank ye for thy hard work today.”

Uncharacteristically, Esteban felt a rush of emotion and pride. “Uh, thanks, sire.”

Arthur eyed the seventeen-year-old appraisingly. “Ye have made great strides, Sir Esteban, in overcoming thy past.” Esteban looked down, so embarrassed that he almost blushed. And in front of Reyna too! “Canst ye now see a future without criminal activity, but rather one of hope?”

Esteban found himself nodding. Yeah, he realized, as he thought over everything they’d done today. Hadn’t what they’d accomplished, simple though it seemed, done more for his neighborhood in one day than all his years of banging combined?

Lance, sitting beside Mark, Jack, and Chris found himself unintentionally scowling at the attention Arthur seemed to be lavishing on Esteban, and, as always, hated himself for feeling that way.

Arthur gingerly lifted a slice of pepperoni to his mouth and bit into it, which distracted Lance, and the boy watched with amusement as a long pull of cheese stretched from Arthur’s mouth while he attempted to disengage the slice. The cheese stuck to his beard, and everyone laughed, including Lance.

“I doth like it,” announced the king with a cheesy grin.

He wiped his mouth and took another bite, careful this time to pull the cheese apart with his fingers.

Lance watched him eat, watched him charm the owner and the other kids, and sighed.
You need to stop being so selfish
, he told himself once again, and then shook off the feeling by laughingly elbowing Jack beside him. He feigned a powerful struggle to lift something heavy as he shakily raised his own slice toward his mouth. Jack laughed and pretended to help Lance lift the pizza. They cracked up again, and Lance tried to get Mark into the fun.