Children of the Knight, Michael J. Bowler [classic book list txt] 📗

Chapter 5:
We’re Brothers Now, Aren’t We?

The energized and triumphant children chattered and babbled and practically danced their way back to their underground castle following the successful gang showdown. Jack felt immense pride at walking beside Arthur and Lance as they led the massive parade through the storm drains, and he listened with amusement as the various archers loudly laid claim to which gun they had dislodged from which gangster.

Reyna, thrilled with the whole experience, had taken off for her house, “so the servants don’t call my parents again,” promising to be back in the afternoon when “the buff boy and his bangers show up.”

Enrique and Luis were clearly not pleased with her obvious interest in the stronger and more commanding gangster, but they also looked more determined than ever to impress her.

Arthur had his arm over Lance’s shoulder as they walked, looking very proud of his First Knight.

Jack remained silent on the return journey. His thoughts drifted, as they often did, to Mark. Despite the thrill of success this night, he couldn’t get Mark out of his head. He’d almost lost the boy he loved, something he didn’t want to even imagine.

Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?

He shook his head, chest tightening, breath catching in his throat.

Stop going there, Jack. Your heart wants something it can’t have….

His eyes drifted toward Lance, basking beneath Arthur’s pride and obvious love, marveling again at the boy’s almost ethereal beauty, and wishing someone would show that much pride in him for once. Jealousy slipped a noose around his heart and tugged.

When they finally arrived back at The Hub, Mark lay dozing with little Chris wrapped in his arms. As soon as Arthur stepped into the chamber, Mark’s blue eyes popped opened. He leapt to his feet and said to Chris excitedly, “Hey, Chris, Arthur’s back!”

The little boy awoke and turned his sleepy head. Arthur bent down and winked at the boy, who shook off his slumber and leapt from Mark’s arms to throw himself at Arthur, flinging his arms around the man’s neck and squeezing for all he was worth. “Oh, sire,” he gushed, “I’m so happy you’re back!”

Arthur stood, holding the small boy in the crook of his arm.

Mark straightened his rumpled tunic and tried to fix his mussed mop of hair as he too, stepped forward. “Me too, Arthur.”

His eyes locked onto the man, but Arthur merely smiled, patted Mark on the shoulder, and said, “All was a success, Mark and Chris. Tomorrow we shall have new recruits to instruct and train.”

Mark nodded, unable to drop his gaze from Arthur’s exuberant face. Jack noted the intent look with uncertainty. Frowning, he stepped toward Mark, his height cutting off Mark’s view of Arthur. “Hey, I’m back too. Remember me?”

Mark turned those huge blue eyes up to Jack’s serious face and gave him a perfunctory hug. “Oh yeah, I figured you’d be okay, Jacky. You’re too buff to get hurt.”

Jack frowned, his heart tightening. “But I’m not bulletproof like Arthur.”

At the king’s name, Mark immediately glanced past Jack’s shoulder to observe Arthur deposit Chris back onto the ground. He pulled away from Jack, leaving a painful void within the older boy’s chest.

“Lads, we must all needs rest, for it is late into the night and the morrow shalt bring the next stage of our crusade,” the king announced. Then he turned to Lance. “Come, Lance, let us get armor and weapons stowed and everyone down for the night.”

Lance nodded and Arthur moved off to assist his warriors with removal of their armor. Lance stepped up and high-fived Jack. “Good job out there, man.”

Jack grinned despite the tightness around his heart. “You too, man. I thought that dude would crap his pants when you called him a pussy.”

Lance laughed. Then he turned to Mark. “Everything okay here, Mark?”

Mark’s forlorn gaze rested on Arthur across the chamber, and he turned back quickly. “Oh yeah, you know, babysitting. Sounds like you guys had all the fun.”

“It was cool. ’Course Jack was the buffest guy out there, made that gangbanger look skinny.” He punched Jack on the shoulder.

For some reason, the compliment and Lance’s admiring look caused Jack to turn red, not something he normally did.

Jack broke eye contact with Lance and tossed Mark a knowing look. “Mark likes my bod, don’t ya?” He winked, but Mark nodded absently, his gaze drifting back to Arthur, who was helping Lavern off with his armor.

Jack turned to Lance. “You wanna get buffer, Lance, I’ll show ya how to work out and stuff.”

“Sure, that’d be great. But right now we gotta get all our stuff put up.”

He began unstrapping his chain mail as he hurried across to the wooden clothing racks. Jack eyed Mark once again, noted the faraway look in his friend’s eyes, and asked, “You okay, Marky Mark?” That had early on become Jack’s pet name for Mark, despite the younger teen’s skinny frame.

Mark nodded, locks of unkempt hair drifting across his forehead, those pools of blue filling slowly with gloom. “Yeah. Just tired from, you know, the withdrawal. See ya in the morning, Jacky.”

He started to turn away.

“Hey.” Jack stopped him. “Could you, uh, well could you give me a hand getting all this stuff off?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

Mark smiled warmly, looking like the Mark of old, the one before Arthur. “Sure.”

And the two set about removing Jack’s various layers of protection.

The next day, residual excitement from the night before percolated through the tunnels as everyone prepared for the new arrivals. Enrique and Luis searched for the smallest tunics they could find to better accentuate their muscles in preparation for Reyna’s arrival. Both seemed to know they couldn’t compete with Esteban’s buffness, but they appeared confident they could charm their way into her heart.

Lance, as always, slept with Chris beside him and dutifully got the youngster bathed and fed as soon as they awoke. The dripping water was continuously gathered into large tubs and then heated by a charcoal fire pit beneath them. Arthur and Lance had bought a supply of charcoal for the purpose, as well as water-purifying tablets to clean the water and kill germs, and it worked sufficiently well to avoid a cold bathing experience. Boys old enough to shave, like Jack, could use these same tubs for that purpose, too. Lance usually just “bird bathed” because he’d gotten accustomed to doing that on the streets, and he hated being naked in front of anyone, anyway.

Reyna blew in like a whirlwind, decked out in her slickest pants and a very stylish tunic she’d had altered so that it almost put Arthur’s to shame in its ostentation. As always, she carried her bow and quiver of arrows. “Don’t leave home without ’em,” she always said. Enrique and Luis turned on the charm immediately, but she coolly rebuffed them.

Lance had sent out their location to Esteban via text message, and the gang leader was to relay the information to whomever else wished to come. By midday, the chamber swelled with children, most of Arthur’s original group and another hundred or so gang members. Lance, Jack, Mark, Reyna, and Lavern stood around the throne with their weapons in hand just in case any of the newcomers tried to take a shot at Arthur. Esteban had been told that no guns were allowed, but since when did gangsters do what they were told? Lance knew Arthur had Excalibur in hand, but he and the others felt more secure standing with him, creating a visual show of force.

Esteban sauntered in wearing jeans and a very tight tank that showed off his solid physique, obviously for Reyna’s benefit. She noticed, but as always, played it aloof and disdainful. He gazed up at her and smirked, flexing his chest a little for effect, but she chuckled in that haughty way of hers and looked at Lance as if to say, “Can you believe this guy?”

Lance, however, was impressed with the older teen’s intimidating muscles, but made sure not to show it in front of him.

Arthur shared about how he’d pulled Excalibur from the stone back in Britain, about his ancient kingdom of Camelot, and its ultimate downfall.

“I was but sixteen when crowned king,” Arthur went on in response to a question, “and not experienced in the ways of women. A beautiful lady named Morgause, scheming to gain a hold on my throne, did use her witchery to seduce me.”

Esteban fidgeted. “You said all this destroyed your knights. How?”

“Morgause conceived a son, Mordred, and poisoned his mind against me,” the king recalled sadly.

While Esteban may have looked bored, Lance was riveted to the tale, especially at the mention of a son.

“Upon attainment of manhood, Mordred sought to usurp my throne. Ultimately, it was the adulterous affair betwixt my queen and my best friend that did give Mordred his final victory, for in my sense of justice I was forced to wage war upon them all.”

Lance held his breath in shock. Arthur had a son? Who’d rebelled against him? He finally found his voice. “You never told me this, Arthur. What happened to your son?”

Arthur met his wide-eyed gaze. “Alas, Lance, he betrayed me, tried to take my life… and I killed him.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine the gentle Arthur killing his own son. The revelation dazed him into silence, while all the assembled digested the implications of Arthur’s story.

Esteban nodded approvingly.

Arthur stood, his flowing cloak swinging down around his boots, and announced, “Tomorrow, I shall further lay out my plans for our campaign, but for now