Children of the Knight (78 page)

A
RTHUR
saw the call had ended and lapsed into a brooding silence. Jenny gripped him tightly around the waist for comfort, and Chris squeezed the hand holding Llamrei’s reins.

“I couldn’t see your phone. Are they all right?” Jenny asked, almost breathless with fear.

Arthur nodded. “For the time being. But can I save them?” He shook his head in despair. “All my accomplishments, in Britain and here, all will be for naught if I canst not save them.”

Jenny squeezed gently with her arms. “You will. You’ll think of something.”

Arthur nodded and then spurred Llamrei into a fast trot, causing those on foot to break into a jog to keep pace.

A
LL
windows in the mayor’s office were occupied as Villagrana, the council members, and the police gazed out at the city below. The smoke had dissipated for the most part, but the sounds of sirens and the flashing of red and blue lights still crisscrossed the city.

Looking down, instead of out, Villagrana sucked in a startled breath. “What the hell is that?”

The others followed his gaze. Below them, from all streets leading to City Hall, small lights bobbed and weaved and raised and lowered and flashed and winked. But all were on the move—toward them.

“Cell phones,” Gibson responded. “Kids light ’em up at concerts like that.”

“Those are all kids?” Sandra Gale gasped in shock.

“Looks like it,” Gibson replied with a sigh.
You down there too, Justin?

“And look who’s leading the largest group,” Sanders announced, pointing up Temple Street.

All eyes focused on the man atop the white horse. There was a child seated in front of him and a woman holding on behind. More blinking, winking, waving lights filled the street behind him. Cars had slowed to a crawl, trailing the pedestrians, headlight beams like wide eyes opening up the encroaching darkness.

“Looks like the king approaches, Mr. Mayor,” Murphy declared with a look toward Villagrana.

“Shit, Chief!” the mayor responded angrily, running his hands nervously through his moussed hair. “Get yer men and yer ass down there.”

“My men are already down there, Mr. Mayor, but I don’t think it’s me he wants to see.”

“The Chief’s right,” Sanders said, turning to face Villagrana, who was visibly sweating with nervousness. “He wants us. And he’s probably got a thousand kids with him. I guess this
is
like a concert, Mr. Mayor, except you’re the star performer. You blow it, and they’ll likely storm the stage.”

“And then all hell breaks loose,” Murphy finished solemnly.

Ryan pulled his eyes away from the politicians and focused again on Arthur and his multitude of adoring, jubilant, and powerful children. He’d never have believed such a thing was possible, not here in his city, and yet it was happening, right before his eyes. He smiled slightly to himself.

“Let’s go,” Villagrana announced with resignation, and the assemblage left the office.

A
S
A
RTHUR
neared City Hall he noted a large dumpster off to one side of the building and pointed it out to Jenny. “What is that?”

“A dumpster,” Jenny answered, her mind on Lance. “I guess they brought it in for the mural unveiling, you know, for cleanup afterward.”

Arthur nodded, his mind also fixed solely upon on Lance. He wanted nothing more than to gallop off and rescue the boy, but he did not know where to go or even who had him. So he focused on his original plan. He instructed Justin to pass the word back amongst the knights—all backpacks filled with drugs were to be brought forward and tossed into the dumpster Arthur had spotted.

As bags began shifting from back-to-front, almost like an assembly line, the boys nearest the dumpster grabbed each one and tossed it in. As this was going on, Esteban and Reyna, along with Jaime, Darnell, Tai, and Duc made their way through the throng to stand by Llamrei’s side.

The king surveyed them and nodded. “Ye all hast achieved success?”

“Yes, sire.” Esteban spoke for the group. “The people, well, they be on our side.” The others nodded, and Arthur acknowledged them with a bow.

“Thank ye, my noble knights. You all make me proud.”

They smiled at that, and Reyna leaned in to kiss Esteban on the cheek. When he turned in surprise, she planted one right on his lips, throwing her arms wildly around his neck and pulling him against her. For his part, Esteban almost crushed her lips with his own.

Jaime laughed. “Break it up, homie, or you’ll have the same problem as me.”

Reyna disengaged herself and punched Jaime in the shoulder. “Like hell!” But she laughed anyway, and Esteban smirked at Jaime.

Arthur watched their joyous youth, their spontaneous and exciting energy, their pride in tonight’s accomplishments, with wonder and trepidation. All would be perfect, except for Jack and Lance.

The kids continued the hand-over-hand passing of the backpacks and were thus engaged when the mayor and his people exited the front of City Hall and stood at the top of the steps. The TV news crews were already in place.

Helen had gotten the call from Arthur that morning and had arrived early to set up and capture for the public whatever action would transpire. Beloved by Arthur’s knights for her support and positive press, Helen had been personally escorted through the crowd with her cameraman and had set up camp at the bottom of the steps.

The mayor stopped short when he caught sight of her, especially with the camera aimed squarely up at him. Helen lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers tauntingly at Villagrana, tossing off that smirk she knew he hated. He scowled before returning his attention to Arthur.

Arthur dismounted, helping Chris and Jenny down after. He handed the reins to Chris and gazed upward at the obviously angry mayor. “Good evening, Mr. Mayor,” Arthur said with a bow of respect.

Sanders and Gale exchanged a worried look. They’d never had so many people gathered here at one time, especially so many young, volatile teenagers. This could get ugly real fast.

“Sergeant Ryan,” Arthur called up, and Ryan disengaged himself from the group to step forward expectantly. “I wish to thank thee for assisting Sir Lance and Sir Jack when Mark died.”

“They’re good kids, Arthur,” Ryan called down, surprising himself most of all by his words. “Never thought I’d hear myself say that, but they are. You been good for ’em.”

Gibson stepped forward in surprise as Justin returned to Arthur’s side and said something the sergeant could not hear. Arthur nodded and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder,
his
boy’s shoulder. He gaped at his son—the chain mail and breastplate, the helm, shield, and sword. But most of all he gaped at the obvious admiration Justin displayed toward Arthur, toward a man
other
than his father.

Gibson almost couldn’t breathe. He wanted more than anything to rush down there and tell his son how sorry he was, how much he loved him. But no, that would be embarrassing, and Gibson hated that feeling. So he stood and soberly watched as Justin said something else to Arthur, and the king patted him on the back.

“You and your kids are blocking public streets, you know,” the mayor called down feebly, not knowing what to say or do. Where the hell was R., anyway?

“I do not see anyone complaining, Mr. Mayor,” Arthur replied calmly. “If they do, my knights shalt be happy to step aside.”

A cheer rang out from the kids and the assembled spectators at Arthur’s response. More winking, flashing cell phones lights glittered all around City Hall, now accompanied by honking car horns.

“We’ve gotten reports on what you and your kids have been up to tonight,” Villagrana went on, sounding more confident than he felt. “We got a bunch of wounded citizens in the hospital with arrows sticking out of them. Would you care to comment on that?”

Arthur sighed, gripping Reyna’s cell phone tightly in his left hand, willing it to vibrate. “Mr. Mayor, someone alerted the drug dealers that my knights be on their way, and they attacked us first. Those you speak of were living under your care as guardian of this city and poisoning the children you claim to be concerned about. Ask the people gathered here with me if they doth care that some of these
citizens
have been hurt.”