Children of the Knight (69 page)

Lance just shook his head, but inwardly breathed a huge sigh of relief that his friend did not seem to be permanently injured. He clambered cautiously off and then carefully wrapped his arms under Jack’s and gently hefted and dragged the much heavier boy toward the wall.

“Thank God for those workout sessions,” he grunted as he heaved the battered boy upright and leaned him against the wall.

Jack nodded and grinned. “Yep. Lance the Animal.” He tried for another laugh, but his abs and ribs shot pain straight into his brain.

“Don’t move,” Lance instructed as he leapt up to grab some toilet paper. Wetting the paper in the tiny metal sink, he carefully and tenderly wiped the blood from Jack’s bruised and battered face. The younger boy felt like crying and screaming in rage for what had been done to his friend.

Jack winced as he touched one cheek with the blood-soaked tissue. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault!”

Jack gaped a moment in surprise. “You seem to want everything to be your fault,” he croaked. “Not healthy, my friend.” He groaned again as pain pierced his midsection.
Man
, he thought,
that guy’d be killer on a football team.

“It
is
my fault, Jack,” Lance went on morosely. “If I hadn’t been acting like a baby and running away, we’d be home with Arthur and not here.” Damn, he was screwing everything up! “Now R. knows about Arthur’s plans.”

Jack grinned and mouthed silently, “Not all of them.”

Lance’s eyes flew open with surprise, and he looked around as though expecting cameras or bugs to be evident. Jack waved him in close, and when Lance put his ear to the boy’s lips, Jack whispered something that made him actually smile. A little. It was
something
, after all.

Pulling away, Lance returned to delicately wiping off Jack’s face, terrified that they really
had
betrayed Arthur, even if it had been unintentional.

“We gave it away, didn’t we?” he whispered. “Arthur’s weakness.”

Jack nodded. “I think so. I’m sorry.”

Lance sat back and gazed at his friend. “We both blew that one. We gotta find some way to warn him.”

Jack nodded, and both boys lapsed into a brooding silence, contemplating their future and that of the entire Round Table.

I
T
WAS
late afternoon, and The Hub was a hive of activity. The main teams had been sent out to set their traps and await Arthur’s signal. Six hundred knights, mostly boys, had trooped into and out of the dry riverbed, gathering up their equipment and joining up with their assigned teammates. The other four hundred or so had been instructed to rendezvous at City Hall by seven o’clock.

Everyone was excited and anxious, knowing that this undertaking would be fraught with danger. But youth thrived on danger. Youth, especially boys, had that “thrill gene” built in and, despite the risks of this operation, despite the myriad things that could go wrong, they were up for it. They were hyped. They were ready.

Arthur had sent them off with the directive to get into position and wait. “At my command, initiate operations. Use caution at all times, my noble knights. Tonight ye be marching into history, but I canst not lose any more of you.”

A few had inquired about Lance, but in the bustle of preparations the question died a quiet death. It was, however, never far from Arthur’s mind, or his heart. Reyna and Chris stayed by his side as the teams formed and marched away to meet their destiny.

Esteban and Reyna’s team was the last to depart. The remaining archers and swordsmen would travel with Arthur.

“Everything be ready, Arthur,” Esteban said after sending the last of the teams on their way, tossing Reyna a confident grin. For her part, she grinned right back.

Arthur nodded, eyeing Esteban appraisingly. When he’d first joined the crusade, the boy had been bald. Now his hair had grown out, accentuating his handsome good looks. But more importantly,
he
seemed to have grown over the past few months, not physically, but in maturity. Despite the callous joke Esteban had made at Mark’s expense, Arthur still saw enormous potential in this boy who not so many months ago had felt little hope for a future of value.

“I thank ye, Sir Esteban, for thy knowledge and leadership on this campaign. Ye have grown much these past months, and I am deeply honored by your loyalty.”

Esteban actually stood a moment speechless. He still wasn’t accustomed to compliments or praise, maybe
never
would get used to it. Was he worthy of such praise? Him, the gangster who’d never done anything good in his whole life? The dumbass that made that nasty crack about Mark? He still smarted at the memory. It had made him look shitty in Arthur’s eyes and for some reason he still didn’t quite get, that was the
last
thing he wanted.

“Oh, well, uh, thanks, Arthur. It weren’t so much. I know these streets real good and—”

Arthur held up a hand to stop him. “And ye didst not have to join us against some who were in the past thine allies. And ye have been masterful in organizing these teams. Again, I thank you.”

Esteban just nodded, his eyes flicking up to those of Reyna. She just rolled her own eyes and laughed.

“His ego’s big enough, Arthur,” she said with a grin, “don’t make it worse.” Then she frowned. “Any word on Lance?”

Arthur shook his head.

“Don’t worry, Arthur, he’ll be back and in charge,” Esteban found himself saying, not quite certain why.
Maybe because I know sooner or later I’ll fuck up and ruin everything like I always do….
“That kid kicks a—I mean butt, and he’s smart, and he’s got mad talking skills and….” He trailed off, struggling for the right words. “He’s just the right one for the job, Arthur, you know?” His declaration surprised
him
more than anyone else, but he realized he meant every word.

Arthur nodded. “I know, indeed.”

Reyna gaped at Esteban and then shook her head in amazement. Just when she thought she knew him, he’d surprised her again.

Despite his fears for Lance and Jack, Arthur smiled slightly. The boy’s words helped assuage some of his guilt over replacing Lance, even temporarily. He gazed a moment at Esteban and Reyna. These two had come such a long way in a just a short period of time, he realized.

“Godspeed, my knights. Tonight we take a major step toward the future of your city.”

They nodded and went off to gather their team.

The Hub still buzzed with the remaining armor-clad boys, who clutched their weapons and adjusted each other’s chain mail or breastplates. Arthur spotted Chris struggling into his chain-mail shirt. His mind flashed back several months to Lance, struggling with his helm. He slipped Reyna’s phone from his pocket and checked the messages for the hundredth time. Nothing. Sighing, Arthur stepped over to Chris and squatted before the boy.

“Thou shalt be at my side this night, Sir Christopher,” he said, adjusting the chain mail and slipping a helm one size too large over the boy’s small blond head. “I shalt protect thee.

Chris smiled, but his big blue eyes begat sadness all the same. “I know that, Arthur. I just wish….”

Arthur nodded, knowing exactly what the boy wished. “I wish they be here with us too, my boy.” He gripped the child by the shoulders and squeezed gently.

Chris’s eyes suddenly went wide, and Arthur stood to whirl around, hoping against hope that Lance would be there.

But it was Jenny. She stood before him wearing a light sundress, blonde hair falling loosely about her shoulders, her lovely eyes and mouth etched with concern.

“I’m sorry, Arthur, I just had to see you.” She eyed the hustle and bustle around her, and then her gaze settled on Chris, armored up for battle. “You’re going after the drug dealers, aren’t you?”

Arthur’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. He knew he shouldn’t be, but her astuteness always amazed him. “Yes, we are.”

Jenny felt a chill run down her spine as she looked around.
My God
, she thought,
these are children….
Terrified, she scooped Chris into her arms and held him facing Arthur. “Arthur, it’s too big for them to handle. It’s a war out there. A
real
war.”

Arthur nodded. He understood better than she gave him credit for and so did these kids of his. “These children are no strangers to war, Jenny. Or death. Both have been their upbringing. If necessary, it doth be better to die for something than live for nothing.”

Jenny’s mouth dropped open in shock. And then she looked into Christopher’s eyes, into the eyes of a damaged, cast-off child who’d been reborn under Arthur. There was no fear in those eyes, no sense of danger. All she saw was love for Arthur and a belief in what he was doing.
How old was this boy
, she wondered,
six or seven?
And yet those eyes spoke of someone much older, someone who’d seen more of life than he should have.

She gave the boy a kiss on one cheek and gently set him down. He instantly moved to stand beside Arthur. Chris’s blond hair had grown out from several months without a cut, and he seemed almost a miniature version of the king.

“Arthur, I’m afraid for you, for them. I care….” But she trailed off, her feelings stuck in her mouth like taffy.

Arthur placed both hands on her shoulders gently. “Thou didst reassure me that I do, indeed, possess the strength to lead these children. Tonight shalt be the true test. We do what doth be necessary if they are to have a future of value. Trust me, milady.”

“Where’s Lance? Isn’t he going with you?”

Arthur’s face drooped and sadness nearly overwhelmed him. His arms fell to his sides helplessly. “Alas, he hath not returned. Nor hath Jack. I have texted him, but he hath not replied.”

“Oh no,” Jenny muttered, her brows furrowing with worry. “Arthur, something must have happened to him. He loves you, and he was coming back here. I know it. Oh God, Arthur, we can’t let anything happen to that boy. We can’t!” She sounded as frantic as she felt.

Arthur nodded. “I have been unable to tell him….” He trailed off because he saw that she understood what he meant. “Jenny, doth thou believe history repeats itself?”

The question caught her off guard. “What?”

Arthur sighed deeply. “’Tween Mordred and myself were a series of misunderstandings. The end result was tragedy. Now with Lance there’s….”

He let the thought trail off, unable to articulate it for fear it might come true.

But Jenny understood. “Arthur, I’m going with you,” she announced in that tone of hers which said,
this is final
.

Arthur shook his head. “Nay. It doth be too dangerous for a lady.”

“You mean Reyna’s not a lady?” she replied, a bit more snidely than she’d intended. “Look, Arthur, I can take care of myself, and I want to be there with you. I want to help. I want to find Lance. And I
won’t
take no for an answer.”

Arthur looked uncertain and hesitant, but she stood her ground, hands to her hips, soft features set with determination.

Arthur gazed at her so long and hard she was afraid he’d call the guards and have her removed. In fact, Arthur was sizing her up anew. Every time he met with her, Jenny showed him something more, something extraordinary.
Alas, a woman of this age doth be confusing and terribly exciting
, he concluded and then nodded.