Children of the Knight by Michael J. Bowler (e ink epub reader .txt) 📕

nodded. Lance put a hand to his lips and whistled something that sounded like a birdcall. From all around them, answering birdcalls could be heard in reply. Then silence reigned once more, except the sound of tires on dirt. Then these sounds, too, ceased. Doors opening and slamming came next, followed by approaching footsteps on gravel. Many footsteps. Reyna and Lance exchanged a look, and she tossed him a cool, reassuring grin.

Nervous though he was, Arthur dared not show it, so he stood impassively as hundreds of forms materialized dimly from beneath the blanket of darkness, spreading outward to fill the area with writhing, living movement, like a horde of rats emerging from the sewers. Wavering guns and long-bladed knives glinted in the moonlight.

Several forms broke away from the mass to stand before them, and Lance recognized two of them - Justin and Dwayne. There were two other Latino youth, another African-American, an Asian, and a mountainous boy who could only be Samoan.

The thick-muscled Latino broke away from the others.

Lance noted the handgun tucked within the waistband of his baggy jeans.

“So you the guy who been messin’ wit’ our ’hoods, eh?” He stopped up short and puffed out his muscular chest in amused defiance.

Dwayne pulled a gun and took a step closer, taking aim at Arthur’s head. The Latino calmly reached out one brawny arm to push Dwayne’s hand downward so the gun pointed at the ground.

“They got blades, man! An’ I owe that big muther fer messin’ me up, anyways.”

Lance gazed down at Dwayne, eyed the bandaged hand without sympathy, and realized he wasn’t afraid anymore. “Methinks now the odds be more even, eh?”

Dwayne glared at Lance in confusion. “Huh? What you be talkin’ about, Pretty Boy?”

The Latino guy chuckled and turned to his assembled army. “Hey, dawgs, don’ you know who this guy is? I seen him on the news. He’s King Arthur.”

Derisive laughter rippled through the darkness like ghosts in a graveyard. Arthur raised his shield higher so the symbol would be clearly visible in the moonlight. Seeing that hated “tag” sent a flurry of angry murmurs rippling throughout the crowd. More guns and knives glinted portentously.

Reyna, Lance, Jack, and Enrique tensed up instantly, aiming their weapons at Dwayne and the Latino.

“This ‘tag’, as thou hast dubbed it,” began Arthur calmly, his voice strong and resonant, “be my knightly symbol, displayed here upon my shield.”

“So how come you be puttin’ it up in our turf, huh?” That came from the Samoan who, Lance thought, looked big enough to lift up a truck.

Arthur lowered the shield, but gripped Excalibur tightly. His voice rang out clear and unruffled. “Do you take so much pride in these neighborhoods where you live?”

“Damn straight, ese!” the buff Latino practically spat.

“Then, perchance, I may inquire why the dwellings be so shabbily attired, the streets overrun with trash and vermin, the children without role models? Why do thy people have so little to show for all of thy pride?”

Dwayne rose up to his full height, his face a mask of rage. “It ain’t our fault, fool, it’s white people like you who’s keepin’ the blacks in the ghettos, man! We can’t do nuthin ’cept fight back.”

“You do not fight back,” continued Arthur, fixing his intense gaze on Dwayne. “You run wild in the streets with no thought of anyone save thyselves.”

“You know nuthin’, man!” the other Latino spat, stepping beside Dwayne, fingering his handgun anxiously.

Lance noted the forearm tattoo of Our Lady of Guadalupe, but kept his gaze fixed on the gun, his sword at the ready.

The buff one shouted, “Quiet! I wanna hear more.”

Arthur moved his intense gaze back to him. “My placement of this symbol in thy midst did accomplish its purpose. It brought all of thee here to me, united as one. When can any of thee recall the last time you did gather together without bloodshed?”

Agitated murmuring rose up from the slithering dark shadows behind the big guy. Actually, Lance noted, the guy was pretty short, but super buff, with a bald head and a dangerous scowl. At Arthur’s words, he and the other Latino guy exchanged a look of surprise. So did Dwayne and the other black guy Lance didn’t know. The Asian and the Samoan nodded in acknowledgement. Arthur’s words had hit home.

The buff guy gazed at Arthur with a grudging respect. “Okay, dog, so you got us all here. Now what?” He smirked arrogantly. “We could kill you, real easy.”

Arthur smiled. “Methinks not, dog, for I am not without weaponry myself.”

Everyone laughed.

“Them swords, man!” sneered the third black guy mockingly. “Hell, we’d cut you down ’fore you even lifted ’em!”

Arthur maintained his calm, cool tone. “You take much pride in thy cowardly guns which shoot metal pellets from such a distance that thy lives be not even threatened. Methinks such weapons be more suited to the female gender.”

Reyna chuckled at that, but Dwayne exploded with rage. “That’s it, you son of a bitch!” He raised the handgun and fired before Esteban could stop him. The bullet ricocheted off Arthur’s armor, disappearing into the trees.

A second later, an arrow whizzed through the air from the darkness and pierced Dwayne’s jacket sleeve, pinning his wrist to the tree beside him and knocking the gun from his grasp.

Other gang members raised their weapons to shoot, but arrow after arrow flew in from the dark and expertly struck the weapons, knocking them to the ground, but not piercing any flesh or injuring any of the gangsters. Within seconds, all who had lifted their weapons had been disarmed.

When the buff guy and the other shot callers turned from the panicked confusion behind them, Reyna and Lavern and Luis had arrows cocked and aimed at their hearts.

“Hold yer fire, dammit!” Buff Guy shouted angrily, a bit unsettled. He glowered at Dwayne. “We said nobody shoot, fool! Lucky you still got a hand.”

He reached over and yanked the arrow from the tree, freeing Dwayne.

Angrily, Dwayne reached for his fallen gun, but Buff Guy kicked it aside. “Leave it. He’s got his homeboys out there.”

Reyna cleared her throat, drawing his scrutiny in her direction. His eyebrows shot up, finally realizing that she was female. She smirked, and he tossed her a slight smile. “His homegirls too.” He raised his eyebrows, and Reyna nodded, satisfied.

“He called me a bitch, man!” shouted Dwayne angrily.

Buff Guy whirled on him. “Well stop actin’ like one, and shut up so the man can finish!” Then he turned to the others. “And that goes for the rest a you vatos!” He looked back at Arthur, lobbing a slight smirk Reyna’s way. “Go ahead, dawg. You got my attention.”

“Those you see here be well trained in hand-to-hand combat. Thy way of fighting pits several against one, often with these cowardly gun weapons fired from moving vehicles against those who cannot fight back.”

Angry chatter erupted from the assemblage. Buff Guy turned to quiet them. “He’s jus tryin’ ta rattle us. Don’ pay no attention.”

Arthur focused on the buff one. “To thee I pose a question.”

“Yeah?”

Arthur leaned in. “Doth might be right?”

“Huh?”

Arthur’s gaze never wavered. “Methinks this doth be thy philosophy, that if thou hast sufficient numbers, the might, thou art always right. Is this correct?”

Buff Guy chuckled, affecting an insolent attitude. “Sure, dawg. Survival of the fittest.”

“We rule these streets!” Dwayne shot back. “This city belongs to us. We got respect!”

Arthur eyed Dwayne appraisingly. “And having the might doth always make thee right?”

“Huh?”

Arthur ignored Dwayne’s response and gestured for Buff Guy to step forward. “Venga!”

“You know Spanish?” Obviously surprised, he stepped to the platform. Arthur nodded almost imperceptibly to Lance, who raised his sword and moved forward threateningly.

“You pussy, you got no balls and no brains, neither!” Lance spat.

Buff Guy’s face went red with fury and he thrust his hands toward Lance’s throat. Reyna and the boys instantaneously aimed their weapons at his heart and head. Still seething, the young hoodlum promptly ceased his forward motion and eyed the weapons with caution.

Angry words and forward movement by the crowd were halted by Arthur’s commanding voice. “Hold fast, young ones, lest thy companion die!”

They stopped and watched, many glancing apprehensively around them in the dark, as though anticipating another volley of arrows.

Buff Guy ignored Lance and glared at Arthur. “What the hell is this, man?”

“Was he right in saying those words to thee?” Arthur asked calmly.

“What?”

“Was he right?” Arthur repeated, more forcefully this time.

Lance watched the guy’s face and saw control returning.

“Hell, no, man, I didn’t say crap ta him!” He cast a quick glare Lance’s way.

Lance’s gaze never wavered.

“And yet, methinks,” Arthur went on, pressing home his point, “he doth have the might at his disposal to defend his words. By thine own definition, this makes what he said right.”

“That’s different, man, he—” He stopped suddenly, and Lance clearly saw the light dawn in his eyes.. “You tricked me!”

Arthur shook his head. “Nay. I have merely shown thee the truth.”

Dwayne, frustrated and angry, exclaimed, “You be talkin’ in circles, man. Speak English or somethin’.”

Buff Guy ignored Dwayne as Reyna and the boys pulled their weapons back. He eyed the smirking Reyna curiously. Then he exchanged a look with Lance, and grinned.

“Ya did okay, dawg.” He held up one fist. Lance nodded, and they did the fist bump. He then turned to face the others. “What the man be sayin’ is true. Just ’cause we got guns and we got numbers don’t make us right all the time.”

“What the hell’s ‘right’ gotta do wit’ it?” Dwayne practically shouted. “We’re talkin’ respect, and survival!”

“Exactly,” interjected Arthur. “Respect and survival. And I have conceived a plan that shall not only gain thee true respect, but shall also ensure thy survival, and that of thy children yet to be born.”

The other Latino guy reacted with surprise and asked, “What plan?”

“Might for right,” Arthur announced, causing a ripple effect through the crowd. “We shall use all of my gathered strength combined with all of thine and direct it only toward that which is right. Thou may all become knights of my new Round Table. You shall crush corruption, defend the helpless, foster with your words and deeds the tenets of morality and righteousness. Thou shalt become the heroes thy society so desperately needs. And in so becoming, right the wrongs that have been done to your generation.”

“We don’ need no cracker like you,” spat Dwayne. “We got our freedom, and we got the streets!” He looked to the other black guy for support, but the other boy remained quiet, contemplating Arthur’s words.

“No man has freedom who needs air to breathe,” Arthur went on. “And if thou cannot see beyond the color of one’s skin, then thou art already blind, and thy life is without value. I speak the truth, and truth be truth for all. I can help thee find real purpose in life, and a channel for thy vast energies. The entire world shall know of Arthur’s knights, and history shall be ours for the making.”

Dwayne spat on the ground before Arthur’s feet. Lance instantly raised his sword and Reyna her bow, but Arthur remained unfazed. Dwayne glared at them with hatred. “Not me, man! Count me out. C’mon, Darnell.” He turned to leave, but the other black guy, who Lance now knew was named Darnell, didn’t follow his lead.

“What he say kinda do make sense, Dwayne,” he said, a trifle embarrassed to be admitting it. “I ain’t sayin’ I agree