Children of the Knight (86 page)

A rousing cheer erupted from the multitude of knights, and Arthur nodded. Then he turned toward the mayor, the city council members, and the police chief still huddled together at the bottom of the steps. Helen’s cameraman aimed up at Arthur while Helen stood by and soaked up everything about this moment in history, not just for her viewers or her ratings, but for herself.

Silence reigned. Every person present had their eyes and ears focused on the man atop the ambulance. Throughout the city, everybody tuned to television also waited silently, expectantly, for what would happen next. The entire city, it seemed, had come to a standstill this night, watching triumph and tragedy unfold before their very eyes. And they were mesmerized.

“You see around me… children,” Arthur began, his voice carrying easily over the silence. “
Your
children.
You
created them, and then
you
rejected them. Thou hast served thine own interests first and theirs second. Thou hast allowed them to learn from immoral examples and then cast them aside when they didst follow those examples. Thou hast deemed them of no value and yet, methinks, they have proven their value time and again. Behold the latest proof, Mr. Mayor!”

He pointed to the large dumpster filled to overflowing with the drugs his knights had confiscated.

“These illegal drugs be only a small portion of that which infests thy city. They cost me my gentle, loving Sir Mark, and they have destroyed the lives of parents and their children in equal measure. Ye and these others in power did nothing to stop this scourge. It took children, those you have considered the least valuable, to do your job. Children who have no rights in your society, not even the basic human right to vote you out of office for your failure to protect them. You call them adults when they get into trouble, but not when they demonstrate greatness. This is hypocrisy of the highest order. My knights have earned the right to vote you out, Mr. Mayor, and they will henceforth fight for that right!”

The kids all cheered with thunderous agreement and waved their swords with passionate excitement.

Arthur waited for his knights to settle and then gazed steadfastly at the mayor. “But our triumph this night hath been costly, oh so very costly, for I have lost my….” He almost broke and paused to regain control. “My own beloved son. And yet my dearest Lance didst not think his sacrifice a vain or empty one, for he dreamed of a world where children could retain the right to
be
children, to be protected and nurtured, and he gave his life that other children may have a better one.”

He pointed Excalibur, and several boys nearest the dumpster tossed lighted Molotov cocktails into the mass of backpacks, igniting the drugs. As the fire rose and grew in intensity, the kids cheered and once again thrust their swords into the air.

The mayor snatched a bullhorn from Murphy’s hand and raised it to his mouth. But before he could speak, Sanders grabbed it from him, causing the mayor to glare furiously at him.

“This is one time, Mr. Mayor,” he said as he tossed the bullhorn over Murphy’s head and into the burning dumpster, “you’re gonna keep your mouth shut.”

Villagrana’s mouth dropped open like a codfish as the bullhorn went up in flames, and the entire crowd, kids and spectators alike, raised another deafening cheer.

“Mr. Mayor, City Officials, we expect you to follow
our
example,” Arthur went on, his voice strong and majestic with authority. “We expect you to take responsibility for
your
actions. We expect you to do
your
job and do it right. In fact, ladies and gentlemen, we doth demand it! Be that not so, my noble knights?”

Such a powerful explosion of assent erupted from the throng of children, with their swords waving, their feet stamping, their phones flashing, that the mayor and the council members stepped back in fear.

Ryan, who stood near the covered body of Lance, found himself nodding in agreement. He looked over at Gibson, clinging tightly to Justin. The two men shrugged at one another and then raised their own fists in unison with the kids and the people of their city.

When the cheering died away, Arthur continued, speaking to the mayor, but also speaking into the cameras, to the hearts and minds of everyone who was watching.

“These children are the new warriors of right, marching forth to set the example for young and old. Whether you all watching like it or not, the way of right is here, the
might
of right is here. Not one of you can stop it. You can either join it or be trampled beneath it. But the new Camelot is
right
here,
right
now!”

He raised Excalibur and swung it over his head, turning to his knights in triumph. Another roar of assent rose from the masses, the numbing pain of the fallen Lance swept momentarily away in the heat of their youthful passion and pride.

Enrique and Luis, still reeling from all that had happened, worked their way out of the crowd and dashed across Temple to the billowing sheet and their mural beneath. They knew in their hearts that tonight should be the night for the unveiling, not tomorrow. Their fellow knights needed this moment, needed to see what they had created.

Both boys gripped the pull cord and turned back to face the throng. They awaited the proper moment.

Arthur swept his gaze around and settled on Chris, still cradled within Jack’s strong embrace. He sheathed Excalibur, leapt down off the vehicle, and went to stand beside Jack and Chris. He gripped Jack’s shoulder tightly with one hand and locked eyes with the devastated boy. He nodded his thanks for all that the boy had done for Lance and for him. Though he felt ashamed for his failure, Jack was grateful for the gesture.

“This is Sir Jack,” Arthur announced to the camera, wrapping his arm lovingly around Jack’s brawny shoulders, “a boy cruelly discarded by his sires as having no value, yet he has proven to be a young man of extraordinary value,
and
valor. We need many
more
like him, not fewer.”

He patted Jack on the back and pointed to Chris. “And this little one was likewise tossed into the streets to live as an animal. Have ye all who be watching become so busy with thine own lives that ye canst not care about such as these? Simply because they be not of thine own flesh and blood?”

He shook his head sadly, scooped Chris into his strong arms, and strolled confidently toward Llamrei. He passed Jenny, and their eyes met. He nodded reassuringly.

Arthur set Chris down and climbed up onto the horse. Then he extended a hand. All watched expectantly as Chris was swept up into the saddle in front of Arthur. Man and boy gazed at the cameras intently filming them.

“This is Chris, and until he met Lance and I and Jack and Mark and all these others, he had no one to champion his cause. For him and all like him we take up our swords and our bows, we take up our faith in God and what is right, and we fight. We march. And ultimately, we make the world better for our having passed through it.”

He turned and extended a hand toward Jenny. She stepped forward to take it. He pulled her easily up into the saddle behind him.

There was complete silence. Everyone held a collective breath, waiting to see what Arthur would do next.

The king unsheathed Excalibur and placed it in Chris’s hands, much to the boy’s surprise. Chris’s eyes lit up through his drying tears as his small hands, aided by Arthur’s, encircled the fabled hilt.

Arthur called out for all to hear, “Behold… the future!”

He raised Chris’s hands and Excalibur high enough for all to see. At this moment, across the street, Enrique and Luis yanked the cord, and the sheet slowly billowed down to the ground, revealing the enormous mural for the first time.

There were gasps of surprise from the assembled crowd as everyone slowly became aware of the mural, and a momentary stunned silence followed as they all gazed raptly at the image.

Arthur turned to look and gasped, his already splintered heart shattering anew at the sight before him. Jack, too, had to choke back a sob.

The mural expertly depicted Arthur’s face in the background, but this time, seated atop Llamrei, Excalibur held majestically aloft toward the heavens, was his beloved Lance.

The likeness was perfection. The boy’s luxurious long hair framed his face, held back by his signature gold circlet, giving him a regal, princely appearance. He wore his bright green tunic, with Arthur’s resplendent red cloak draping his shoulders and spilling across the white back of Llamrei. His perfect features flashed that winning smile, now filled with pride, and those piercing green eyes gazed compassionately out over the city he had fought so hard to save.

Chris and Arthur exchanged a look of mutual sadness, and love. Their boy would live on forever in the hearts and minds of all who knew him, and even in those who only knew him from television, thanks to this magnificent mural.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by Reyna, who shouted at the top of her lungs, “Long live Lance!”

The thousands of children and adults instantly took up the chant, “Long live Lance!”

Jack yelled it louder than the rest. A lone tear clinging to his bruised cheek as though unwilling to let go, he glanced down one last time to the boy he loved beneath the cloak at his feet and then up again at the mural.

“You’re
my
hero, Lance,” he whispered softly, placing both hands gently up against his heart, “and always will be.” Then he fixed his gaze upon Arthur, threw back his head, and let loose with a resounding, “Long live Chris!”

The crowd echoed raucously, “Long live Chris!”

Then Esteban’s deep voice ascended into the night, “Long live Arthur!” and the throng roared out the same in a deafening cacophony.

And then every one of Arthur’s kids exploded, “Long live the Table Round!”

In unison, every sword and every bow was raised on high toward the enormous image of their fallen one and a thunderous cheer arose to the heavens.

Chris smiled lovingly up at Arthur as Excalibur gleamed brightly in the firelight.

The future… was already here.

And so, as it was told from that night onward:

Once upon a time in the City of Angels, the children did lead, and the people had hope.

About the Author

M
ICHAEL
J. B
OWLER
is an award-winning author of two previous novels who grew up in San Rafael, California. He majored in English and Theatre at Santa Clara University and earned a masters in Film Production from Loyola Marymount and another masters in Special Education from Cal State Dominguez Hills. He has partnered with two friends as producer, writer, and/or director on several ultra-low-budget horror films. These films are often unintentionally funny, but the reviews are intentionally snarky and hilarious. Checking out the reviews is much more fun than watching the movies.

He taught high school in Hawthorne, California, for a number of years, both general education and to students with learning disabilities in subjects ranging from qualified areas like English and Strength Training to he-doesn’t-know-what-he’s-doing-but-was-forced-to-teach-these-subjects-anyway areas like Algebra and Biology. (Oh well, he and the students had fun, anyway.)

He has also been a volunteer Big Brother to seven different boys with the Catholic Big Brothers Big Sisters program and a long-time volunteer within the juvenile justice system in Los Angeles. He is a passionate advocate for the fair treatment of children and teens in California, something that is sorely lacking in this state. Sadly, he knows far too many youth in prison. While some people tour the California Mission system on their summer vacations, he often tours the California prison system visiting these throwaway kids, reminding them they are not and never will be forgotten.

He has been honored as Probation Volunteer of the Year, YMCA Volunteer of the Year, California Big Brother of the Year, and National Big Brother of the Year. The “National” honor allowed him and three of his Little Brothers to visit the White House and meet the president in the Oval Office.

Website: http://www.michaeljbowler.com

Twitter: BradleyWallaceM

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michaeljbowlerauthor

Blog: http://SirLanceSays.wordpress.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6938109.Michael_J_Bowler

E-mail: [email protected]

Also from H
ARMONY
I
NK
P
RESS

http://www.harmonyinkpress.com

Also from H
ARMONY
I
NK
P
RESS