Children of the Knight - Michael J. Bowler (best books to read non fiction .txt) 📗
- Author: Michael J. Bowler
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Enrique quickly shoved Luis aside to open up a space between them. “Move over, fool,” he whispered and then waved at Reyna. “You can sit here, we got room.”
She eyed both boys with disdain. “I’ll stand, thank you.”
“Lady Reyna,” Arthur continued, “And yes, a knight must always address any lady as ‘Lady’—it is of the code of chivalry—tell us thy story. How did thee come here to us?”
Reyna raised her well-groomed eyebrows and chuckled. “I love the way you talk. It’s so cool. Anyway, not much on me. I’m almost seventeen. My parents are rich fat cats who live out in Porter Ranch. They pretty much buy me whatever I want long as I don’t, you know, talk with them much.” She laughed bitterly. “God forbid they’d wanna spend time with me. Far too busy, my folks, impressing the rich white people because they’re rich Latinos with just as much money. It’s all… whatever, to me.”
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Lance asked as he resumed his seat beside Arthur. She still intimidated the hell out of him, but her skills with a bow and arrow were fantastic.
“Any of you seen that movie about the kids who had to fight to the death in some arena?” Many heads nodded in the affirmative. “I loved the book and told my parents I wanted to learn archery. ’Course, they got me the best instructor money could buy. He only stayed around till I got better’n him.” She tossed off that haughty little laugh.
“How come you got a few months with nothing to do?” Enrique threw in, his eyes devouring the stunningly beautiful girl.
“My parents went to Italy for their wedding anniversary. They never want me to go on vacations with them so they pay me money to stay home.”
“They pay you?” Lavern exclaimed.
Reyna eyed the small boy dismissively. “Yeah, I got me six thousand this time. Long as I keep my grades up and don’t give the servants a hard time, it’s all good.”
“What about school?” Jack asked.
“I go when I need to. No tests today, so I’m good.” Then she scrutinized Jack and Mark more closely. Mark still had his arm wrapped around Jack’s shoulders. “You guys gay?”
Mark and Jack exchanged a surprised look. “How’d you know?”
“I’ve been around.”
Arthur surveyed the group. “Does anyone have more to share before we begin training?”
Mark threw up his hand, and Jack laughed. “You’re not in school, fool!” Jack said, laughing.
Mark shrugged sheepishly. “Old habit, I guess.”
“Jack,” Arthur said before Mark could ask his question, “We all be knights-in-training. While it seems a popular word in this era, our code of chivalry requires respect for one another. Therefore, we must refrain from use of the word ‘fool’.”
Jack flushed red. “Sorry, Arthur.”
He and Mark exchanged a smile, and Arthur nodded to reassure them he understood.
“So, Arthur,” Mark began again, “that night you rescued us… well, you never said how come that bullet bounced off of you.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah, tell us.”
There were excited murmurings among the assembled, especially from the boys who’d witnessed the event.
Arthur placed Excalibur in front of him, point to the ground, his hands resting atop the jeweled hilt. “Merlin once told me that so long as I hold Excalibur in my grasp, no harm shall befall me. I pray he be correct, for the next phase of our crusade be almost upon us.”
He lifted Excalibur and handed the enormous sword to Lance, who found he could support its weight with greater ease than before as he held it across his outstretched arms. Arthur reached down beside his throne and lifted up his shield, holding it out for all to see.
There were gasps of surprise and excited murmurings from the crowd. Emblazoned on the face of the shield was a magnificent rendering of the “A” symbol with the sword thrust threw it, the same symbol many of these kids had seen in their neighborhoods, the symbol that had ignited gang wars throughout the city.
Enrique leapt to his feet in shock. “Crap, Arthur, you didn’t tell us youse that tagger!”
Arthur frowned at Enrique’s language, but Enrique didn’t seem to notice.
Luis stood beside his homeboy and pointed at the shield. “Them gangsters, they all want your blood, Arthur. They want you dead!”
Arthur lowered the shield and raised a hand to quell the excited murmuring. “I know that, Luis. Though I did not at first comprehend the reason, upon awakening in this city, I had been given directives within a vision. There were tools, what you call ‘spray paint’, and locations provided. I proceeded to ‘tag’ these areas as the vision dictated, and now I understand why. These gang members be of great import to our cause, and though I do sincerely hope my life shall not end at their hands, we must at least give them that choice.”
Lance stared at Arthur. He’d known this day was approaching, but it still scared the hell out of him.
Chapter 4:
Might For Right
After another two weeks of intensive training, Arthur felt his squires were ready for that next phase—recruiting those who were called gang members to their cause. Lance had some knowledge, but others like Enrique and Luis were far better at educating Arthur on gang life and gang think. Both of them had friends in gangs, and both had flirted dangerously with the idea of getting jumped in themselves.
According to Lance, who had used the wizard-like Internet on his phone— Arthur never failed to marvel at the advancement of man—there were thousands of gang members in the County of Angels. All that “might” was available for his cause. If he were to succeed, if his new Camelot might achieve a greatness surpassing the old, he’d need as many of those youth as possible.
Reyna had proven an adept instructor, more condescending than Arthur would have liked, but she accepted his advice that she would gain greater cooperation if she complimented the good, more than she criticized the bad, in her pupils. Once she took that advice to heart, the boys and girls—a few more had materialized since Reyna joined up—quickly mastered the techniques and were well on their way toward becoming expert archers.
Lance had worked extra hard coaching those who chose the sword as their weapon, and these boys had increased in size and strength, as had Lance himself. Some of the bigger lads like Enrique and Luis wielded the two-handed broadsword with deadly accuracy and power. Lance had chosen a sword slightly smaller than Excalibur in size, one which could be gripped with one or both hands, and he could now easily switch back and forth from one to both during a fight.
Arthur felt extreme pride in Lance for his improvement, his drive and ability to lead. It seemed to the king that the boy, having gotten his deep-seated pain out into the open, and knowing Arthur would not reject him for his ambiguous nature, seemed determined to focus on the present and the future. That impressed him immensely.
In laying out their plans, Arthur and Lance had gathered all the boys who had intimate knowledge of gang life and sought their input. Contacting the “shot callers,” as Arthur had been informed the street leaders were called, was relatively easy. Word spread fast on the streets, what with cell phones and texting the communication medium of the day.
The biggest problem, Arthur was told, was that most of those kids carried guns, or could easily acquire them. Again marveling at the technology, Arthur was given a crash course via the Internet on modern weaponry, particularly the most commonly used guns on the streets.
Knowing that his adversaries on Saturday night would possess these weapons, Arthur ordered every archer to be part of the campaign. A sword was no match for a gun, he realized. He, of course, would carry Excalibur, and other swordsmen, Lance included, would flank him to add a greater sense of strength to his presence.
Those guns concerned him, however, for though he might be safe with Excalibur, the others were not. Still, despite the all-too-real possibility that one of his children could be killed, he had to move forward. It was his destiny, his purpose, his sole reason for being here. War always brought casualties, he knew, glancing frequently, and with trepidation at Lance, all throughout the meeting.
It was now Friday night, and the word had gone out to neighborhoods throughout the city. The mystery tagger requested a meeting with any and all shot callers who should like to attend. Of course, Arthur knew they’d bring others for backup, but then, so would he. The stage was set. Tomorrow night, he and his eager knights-to-be would either find themselves in an all-out war, or the beginning of something great and mighty for this city and its people.
Lance asked Arthur to take him back to Eucalyptus Park so he could practice his skating, which, as he informed Arthur, he’d been sadly neglecting of late because of all his weapons training.
Happy to spend time with his protégé, Arthur readily agreed. “On one condition,” he added slyly, his brown eyes lit with amusement.
“What?” asked Lance.
“You must teach me the use of this skateboard of yours.”
Lance’s face lit up with pure joy. “You got it!”
And so they rode Llamrei late into the night, arriving at the park after midnight. Arthur carried Excalibur, and Lance his own sword, both sheathed, as a precaution lest trouble accost them on the journey. The trip to the park was uneventful, however, and within its environs everything reflected solitude and peace.
Lance sighed as he looked around him at the shadows and pools of streetlight and the emptiness and the calm. “If only life could be like this all the time, Arthur,” Lance mused, his young voice wistful and melancholic and sounding older than it should. “No war, no adults hurting kids, no drama.”
Ah, my dear Lance, that would needs mean no people, either, for with people always comes great good and great evil.”
Lance nodded sadly. “Yeah, I know.” Then he flashed that devilish grin. “Come on, Arthur. Your lessons begin now.”
Leaving their swords strapped to Llamrei’s saddle, they slipped into the skate park via Lance’s secret entrance, and the boy leapt forward onto his board in one fluid motion, sailing out into the park and up the nearest ramp, his long hair floating in the breeze like angel wings.
Arthur marveled at Lance’s prowess on this very odd invention. Lance flipped and turned and jumped and landed, all with a precision. After fifteen minutes of warming up, Lance skated over to the king. A grin split his handsome face, which had begun beading with sweat.
“You ready?” the boy asked, holding out the board.
Arthur eyed the board uncertainly. “Methinks I should attempt this on a flat surface, Lance. T’would not be seemly for thy king to break his arm before we face our destiny.”
Lance laughed with delight. “You got that right. C’mon.”
They exited the skate park and moved back into Eucalyptus Park proper, where there was grass and pathways for Arthur to practice on. They stopped, and Lance handed Arthur the board. He eyed it a moment before setting it on the ground. “How should I begin?”
Lance placed one foot on the board. “Just put one foot here, right in the middle, and then kick against the ground with the other,” he instructed. “Then when you get some speed up, put both feet on the board and keep your balance. Piece of cake.”
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “Piece of cake?”
Lance shrugged, placing the board in front
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