Children of the Knight - Michael J. Bowler (best books to read non fiction .txt) 📗

He spun Llamrei sharply to the right, and they galloped down the less-trafficked Arcadia Street.

He didn’t have time for this! He had to get back to Lance!

The limo, obviously caught off guard by Arthur’s sudden move, screeched to a halt and then backed up and turned down Arcadia in pursuit. Those precious few seconds were all Arthur needed.

Arthur rode Llamrei to a sudden stop, turning the horse around to face the soon-to-be oncoming limo.

“Take the reins,” he told Jenny.

Without question, she complied.

Arthur grabbed his bow and cocked an arrow just as the limo’s headlights sped down the street, bathing them in harsh, blinding light. He dug in his heels, and Llamrei leapt forward into a determined gallop.

Bullets flew at him from the windows of the limo.

With both hands occupied by the bow and arrow, Arthur could not grip Excalibur. The first few shots missed, but the fourth struck him in the shoulder, causing him to flinch.

“My God, you’ve been hit!” Jenny screamed in horror.

“Just keep her steady!” Arthur shouted, pulling back on the bow string and letting the arrow fly.

It shattered the already-cracked windshield and pierced the driver in the left shoulder, pinning him to the seat and sending the limo careening out of control.

Arthur dropped his bow and snatched back the reins, turning his horse sharply away from the spinning limo.

The twisting car whipped past them and smashed into an electrical pole, knocking it down and puncturing the Hummer’s gas tank. Gasoline began spilling from the rupture, and lighted buildings in the vicinity winked once, and then went black.

Without hesitation, Arthur turned his horse and galloped past the wreckage.

He was desperate to return to Lance.

My son….

As the electrical wires sparked into the gasoline, it set off the remainder of the gas in the tank, and the limo exploded in a huge fireball visible throughout the city.

Arthur didn’t even notice.

Around City Hall, chaos ruled the night. Police and paramedic lights flashed haphazardly amidst the seething throng of children and local citizens who packed the surrounding streets. Arthur’s kids shuffled and milled about aimlessly, uncertainly, almost shell-shocked.

The mayor and council members, along with Chief Murphy and some of his officers, stood near the bottom of the steps vainly attempting to direct the multitude back away from the wounded Lance, but their efforts fell short with so many people. It seemed as though the entire city was out tonight, jostling and crowding in for a better view.

Helen and the other TV reporters urged their camera people to capture every riveting moment. Helen had gotten close enough to see the bleeding Lance, still being cradled by Jack and Reyna, and she had to forcibly blink back tears.

Two paramedics squatted beside Lance, checking his vital signs. One was very young, while the other looked to be middle-aged.

The crowd surrounding the scene suddenly parted, and Arthur appeared.

Everything seemed to stop, as though time itself stood still. Every gaze fixed on Arthur as he dropped down from Llamrei, and Jenny alighted beside him. She saw Lance, and gasped.

Arthur stepped toward his boy. One paramedic had a hand on the boy’s heart, while the other listened to his breathing through a stethoscope. The older paramedic, the one with his hand on Lance’s heart, attempted to make eye contact with Arthur. The king sensed something familiar in the man’s eyes, but was too distraught to give it any attention. Instead, his gaze fixed on the rapidly growing pool of blood spreading out from beneath his son. His throat went dry, and his chest pulled tightly around his wildly beating heart.

The paramedic vehicle flashed its ugly red light over the scene, giving it a ghoulish quality. Helen’s cameraman tilted the camera toward Arthur as he slowly approached, a distraught Jenny trailing a few steps behind.

Standing around the wounded boy, gazing down at him in various stages of shock were Esteban, Darnell, Lavern, Luis, Enrique, Tai, Duc, Justin, and his dad. Gibson had one arm around his son’s broad shoulders, as though afraid to let go.

As Arthur knelt beside Lance, he met Ryan’s gaze. Ryan shook his head sadly, patted Arthur gently on the shoulder, and stood to get out of the way.

The younger paramedic removed the stethoscope and turned to Arthur. His face revealed the same report. Standing, both paramedics stepped back so allow Arthur time to say good-bye.

Reyna leaned down and kissed Lance lightly on the cheek, her tears washing some of the drying blood from around his lips. Then she stood and desperately grabbed Esteban by the hand, squeezing so hard he grimaced. A tear worked its way down his normally stoic face.

Jack gazed at Arthur, tears streaming down his bruised cheeks, his face riddled with remorse. “I promised I would save him. I failed, Arthur!”

Arthur placed a comforting hand on Jack’s trembling shoulder and gazed sorrowfully at him. But there was no accusation in his gaze. Only love.

Jack bent down to Lance, resting his face up against the younger boy’s, delicate beard stubble pressed against smooth, unblemished skin.

Lance opened his eyes and gazed uncertainly up at Jack.

Jack met those questioning eyes with his own. “I… I love you, Lance,” he quietly confessed, eyes awash with anguish. “I couldn’t not tell you.”

Lance inched his hand toward Jack’s. The older boy gently took hold of it, lightly entwining their fingers. “Love you, too, buff man.”

He offered the radiant, angelic, and engaging smile that for one, brief, shining moment had thawed the entire world.

Jack pressed Lance’s hand to his heart, and then reluctantly released it, allowing Arthur to take Lance’s head in his lap.

Chris tearfully kissed Lance on the cheek. “I love you, Lance!”

“Back at you, little brother...”

Jack swept the weeping Chris into his arms and stood back.

Lance finally turned his gaze upon the man who had transformed his life, as Arthur lovingly cradled his head. Immeasurable sadness filled Arthur’s eyes as Lance looked up at him.

“Lady Jenny… all right?”

Arthur nodded.

“Did you see my jump?” Lance croaked, grinning against the pain. “Worth a gold, huh?”

Tears dribbled forth as Arthur began to stroke Lance’s hair lovingly. “You be worth thy weight in gold, my Lance.”

“Methinks I did fail you,” whispered Lance. “Almost got you killed.”

“Nay, my Lance, t’was I who did fail you, for I neglected the needs of thy heart.”

Lance began to cry, softly and despairingly. “I’m sorry, Arthur…. I was selfish… wanted you all for myself… made a lousy First Knight….”

“Thou hast given thy life for thy king, Sir Lance. There can be no greater sacrifice. Thou art truly my greatest knight.”

“The needs of the whole….”

Arthur nodded sadly. “And yet, at this moment now, I would give up everything and everyone to save thee, my Lance. I am the selfish one.”

Lance’s entire being swelled with love and gratitude. Those were words he’d been waiting his entire life to hear. He struggled to move his hand, and Arthur took it gently in his own.

“Wanted to be like you…,” Lance whispered, the pain making it harder to speak.

“And you are,” Arthur affirmed. “Did you not get my message on your phone?”

Lance gave a slight shake of the head. “You didn’t get mine?”

“No.” He sighed. “This world has found so many ways to communicate that it has forgotten the most important one—face to face. And so, my dear Lance, I say now before all that you are my son, and I have more pride in you than I could ever express. And I say now what I should have said long ago—I love you, my Lance, with all my heart, more than I have ever loved anyone on this earth.”

Tears flowed freely down Arthur’s cheeks and spilled down his tunic.

Lance smiled. Finally, he was loved. He was worthy, after all.

His body shuddered. “Hold me, please. I’m cold….”

Arthur gently pulled him up higher and wrapped his cloak around Lance’s chest. “I shall hold thee forever, my son, in my heart and in my soul.”

Lance gave a gentle little smile to the man who had become his father.

Jenny knelt beside him now, her own eyes awash with tears, gazing sadly down at him.

“Tired,” Lance mumbled. “Gonna sleep now.” As those radiant green eyes slowly closed, these words were faintly audible, “Love you… Dad….”

Lance’s head lolled deeper into Arthur’s blood-soaked cloak, and then he lay still in his father’s arms.

There was a moment of stunned silence. No one moved.

No one even breathed.

“Though loved ones be lost…,” Jenny murmured through her tears.

“…love shall not…,” Arthur whispered, his eyes fixed on the unmoving child in his lap.

“…and death shall have no dominion.” Jenny leaned in and kissed Lance on the forehead.

Arthur gazed in sorrow at the boy in his arms. “Dear God, Jenny, what have I done?”

Jenny placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You gave him a life, and now he’s given it back….”

Arthur bowed his head, burying it against Lance’s chest, sobbing quietly and wrenchingly.

There were a few moments of uncertain quiet as the entire city watched the man grieve.

Even Helen was crying.

Jack fought to soothe the devastated Chris, who drenched his tunic with anguished sobs.

Despite his best efforts, even Ryan had to swipe away some tears.

Gibson comforted the shell-shocked Justin.

Esteban had one arm wrapped around a sobbing Reyna, wiping away his tears with the other hand. He looked devastated, like a little lost boy who didn’t know what to do next. He placed one hand gently upon the shoulder of his king.

“Arthur…,” he began, his voice shaky with grief. “Be it over? The crusade? The Table? All of us?”

There was no response from Arthur, who continued to cry quietly into Lance’s unmoving chest.

Esteban released Reyna and stepped around so Arthur could see him. “Arthur?”

Finally, Arthur lifted his head. Their blurred eyes met in silence. Esteban’s cheeks were streaked with the remnants of his sorrow, but his expression was expectant, and uncertain.

Arthur turned away and gently lay Lance down on the pavement, kissing the boy he loved on the forehead for what he thought was the final time. Then he stood, feeling sorrow and defeat. Oddly, he found his gaze momentarily drawn to the middle-aged paramedic who had tended to Lance. There was something in the man’s eyes, something… recognizable. The man lowered his gaze to Lance’s unmoving form, as though directing Arthur to do the same, like he was sending a message. Confused, Arthur followed his gaze, but only saw the unmoving form of his beloved son lying in a pool of blood.

“Arthur?”

Esteban’s shaky voice forced him to look up at the boy who’d come so far in such a short time. He met Esteban’s beseeching eyes, and then scanned the faces of his knights, these children who had come from so little to so much.

Chris continued to cry in Jack’s arms, but most of the others had stopped weeping. Even Jack and Reyna had stopped, their tear-streaked faces asking the same question as Esteban—was it over?

In all of their eyes Arthur read uncertainty, sadness, fear, expectancy, and love. Real love, for him, for Lance, for each other. There was reflected on every young face a genuine need—the need to know, the need to follow, and the need to be reassured. Just as Jenny had said. They needed adults to guide and mentor them, and Arthur was that adult.

Forcing his sorrow down into forever place within his heart, his self-doubt of the previous moment vanished now before the needs of his company. His face took on a look of resolve and bitter determination.