Children of the Knight

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Children of the Knight Page 16

by Michael J. Bowler


  WHEN Jack had finally cried himself to sleep, he’d been alone, but when he awoke the next morning, he found Mark’s arm draped over his bare chest and the blond boy curled up beside him, his unruly mane tickling Jack’s cheek. Despite the pain he felt at seeing Mark and Lance together, it still felt good to have Mark beside him, even though he knew it was only in friendship.

  Later, while he and Mark and some of the older boys were tending to the needs of the younger children, he spotted Lance giving Chris his breakfast. He found himself staring at the younger, astoundingly beautiful boy with envy. And jealousy.

  Lance felt someone’s eyes on him and turned to see Jack obviously staring. He saw something in the other boy’s eyes before Jack quickly looked away, but what was it? A sudden chill ran through him. Did Jack know? Had Mark told him? But no, he knew Mark would keep his secret. Still, why had Jack been staring at him so intently?

  “Are you gonna train me with the sword today?” Chris asked around a mouthful of Pop-Tart, something one of the guys had brought from home, interrupting Lance’s uncertain thoughts. “You been promising me, Lance.”

  Lance managed a smile for the small, blond, bright-eyed boy, who’d already grown and filled out in the two months or so since they’d found him. “Sure, Chris, I’ll train you with whatever sword you can lift.”

  “All right!” the boy replied, shoving the last of his Pop-Tart into his mouth. “Let’s get started.”

  And so, Arthur’s other kids began trickling in from home, and morning workouts began in earnest. Amid the bustle of bodies streaming about the weapons racks, grabbing swords and chain mail and bows and arrows, Lance watched as Chris tried out several different swords. Finally, the small boy chose a midsized weapon that weighed him down a little, but he gripped it tightly and turned back to Lance with a toothy grin.

  As other boys paired off and began sparring, Lance at first went easy on the little one, but when Chris started hacking and stabbing hard at his shield, he had to laugh and really defend himself. He felt pleased that Chris was becoming more confident, less dependent, and so much stronger.

  The little boy smashed against his shield with a force the bigger boy hadn’t realized was there, and Lance felt his heart swell with pride and love for this little brother who’d adopted him and looked up to him. Another wall around his heart had begun to crack and crumble, he realized with uncertainty. Was that good or bad? He really didn’t know.

  Gripping the hilt of his sword more tightly, he focused on parrying Chris’s thrusts before his musings got him seriously hurt.

  As usual, Enrique and Luis sparred against one another as soon as they’d arrived. They always practiced swordplay in the morning because they had to do archery in the afternoon so they could flirt with Reyna. Each had his favorite sword and shield, and they were pretty equally matched. They knew each other’s style so well they could actually carry on a conversation while sparring and not risk getting hurt.

  Enrique announced that he was going to ask Reyna out, and Luis suddenly burned with rage, smashing his sword violently into the other boy’s shield and causing Enrique to stagger back. “Not if I ask her first!” he retorted loud enough to draw Lance’s attention from across the chamber.

  Without pause, the jealousy and rivalry for Reyna’s attention frothed to the surface, and the boys began hacking and stabbing at one another for real.

  “You ain’t doin’ shit, homie!” Enrique shouted back with a vicious thrust that Luis barely danced away from.

  The sound of metal slamming against metal became louder, and their thrusts and parries grew more intense. Everyone in the vicinity stopped and stared in amazement. Arthur was nowhere in sight, but Lance didn’t hesitate.

  He leapt forward with his sword thrust out before him. “Stop it!” he shouted, his voice sounding young, yet commanding. The combatants ignored him, thrusting and swinging and cursing at each other.

  Chris backed away and bumped into Jack and Mark, who, like everyone else, had stopped their own sparring to watch the scene unfold. “Go get Arthur,” Mark told Chris anxiously. The small boy nodded and ran off toward one of the other tunnels.

  Lance watched the boys fight, his sword ready, but paralyzed and unsure of what to do. “I said stop!” he shouted a second time, but his words fell into empty air. The fight continued. If anything, it grew more intense. Lance was certain one of them would be hurt or killed if he didn’t do something.

  Lavern came running into the tunnel to find out what all the commotion was about. Lance snatched the bow and arrow from the black boy’s hand, cocked the arrow, took aim, and fired a straight shot at Enrique’s shield. The arrow smashed hard into the shield making a “ping” sound and snapping into two pieces. Startled, both combatants, winded from their exertions, ceased their swinging and hacking to gaze at Lance in horror.

  “What the fuck you doin’, Pretty Boy?” gasped Enrique, sweat dripping down his angular face, gaping in disbelief at the broken arrow by his feet. “You coulda killed me, fool!”

  “Like you guys weren’t tryin’ ta kill each other already?” Lance retorted brusquely, stepping boldly forward and getting between them. “What’s wrong with you two?” He glared at each in turn.

  Enrique pointed at Luis. “This fool thinks he’s gonna take Reyna from me!”

  “You don’t even got her, fool!” shouted Luis right back.

  It looked like the two were going to start up again, but Lance pushed them back from each other with more strength than either boy suspected he had, staring them both down. They mad-dogged each other from either side of Lance, but made no further aggressive movements.

  Lance looked from one to the other and sighed. “Look, guys, I hate ta tell ya this, but Reyna don’t go for either of you. If she’s into anybody it’s that new guy, Esteban, the buff one. So what the hell are you two fighting for?”

  “I’ll kick that fool’s ass!” Enrique spat. “Big-time gangbanger—I’ll waste that asshole!”

  “Listen to me,” Lance ordered in a strong voice that commanded silence and respect.

  Enrique and Luis stopped mad-dogging each other and gazed with wonder at the younger, smaller boy who suddenly appeared so noble, almost intimidating. “You tole me you guys’ve been friends for like, forever. Remember at school when I first told you about Arthur?” They nodded. “Why’d you decide to join?”

  Enrique shrugged. “Sounded cool.”

  “Thought it might be fun.”

  “Yeah,” Lance pressed, “but remember what I told you was the reason for this crusade?”

  Enrique and Luis exchanged an embarrassed look. “To make things better for kids like us,” Enrique said, and Luis added, “To make a difference.”

  Lance nodded, his eyes blazing with intensity. “Exactly! We’re more than friends in this crusade, guys, we’re brothers. Can’t let no jaina, can’t let nothin’ break us apart. Else we fail ’fore we even start.”

  Enrique and Luis eyed Lance as their panting eased and their anger waned, and then exchanged another uncertain look before Enrique gazed at Lance with a newfound respect. “When you get so smart, Pretty Boy, ’specially for a punk-ass freshman?”

  Lance grinned and shrugged. “Name’s Lance, not Pretty Boy, and I guess from hangin’ around Arthur.”

  Enrique nodded and glanced over at Luis, who nodded back, swiping sweat from his brow. Then the three boys exchanged the ever-popular hand slap, finger clasp, fist bump-type handshake, and all was over as quickly as it had begun.

  Lance turned to the assembled onlookers and spotted Mark and Jack together. Mark grinned and gave him a thumbs-up sign, which caused Jack to squirm with discomfort.

  “All right, everyone, back to work!” Lance commanded. And they immediately complied.

  As the crowd dispersed, Lance spotted Arthur standing at the mouth of the tunnel with Chris, watching him silently. The man approached and gazed at Lance without a word. Then a smile creased his bearded face, and Arthur said, “Wel
l done, Lance.”

  Embarrassed by the compliment, Lance averted his eyes, looking down at the floor. “Oh, they weren’t really fighting, it was just—”

  Arthur’s hand on his shoulder caused the boy to stop and look up. Arthur’s grin was still there. “Well done, my boy.”

  Now Lance broke into a grin. “Thanks, sire.”

  Arthur nodded again, and Lance looked at Chris. “Ready for more, little man?”

  Chris swatted sweaty blond hair from his eager blue eyes and nodded enthusiastically, drawing a laugh from Lance and the king. Exchanging one more look with Arthur, Lance took Chris back over to their corner and resumed their lessons.

  After a while, Reyna blew in with her accustomed bluster. To their credit, Enrique and Luis paid her no mind, which she noted disapprovingly. If there was one thing she craved, it was attention, even from guys she had absolutely no intention of dating.

  Shortly thereafter, Esteban and his crew arrived, followed by Darnell, Jaime, Tai, and Duc. All had brought more gang members to partake of the training, and the chamber swelled to bursting with all the energetic youth. Arthur was pleased to see so many in attendance. After the weapons training, he would more clearly outline the general precepts of his campaign.

  Esteban kept his eye on Reyna but stayed with the broadsword training for now. He liked the feel of the heavy iron weapon in his grip, the flexing of his arm muscles as he swung and jabbed, the man-to-man combativeness of it all. Besides, after losing to Lance, he needed to shore up his rep with the homies, and with Reyna. He might learn the archery later, but the physicality of the sword was more his style.

  Reyna noticed Esteban eyeing her, and that was enough, for now. She didn’t know why the other two had lost interest, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need them as much as they needed her.

  All who’d arrived from their homes brought various and sundry foods for lunch, as had become the daily custom, and after a few hours of physical activity, the kids were tired and hungry, even Jack and Esteban, the two most physically fit of the lot. And so they spread throughout the tunnels and ate their fill—talking, laughing, cussing, and bragging.

  Arthur had gone off to feed Llamrei, so Lance sat with Mark and Jack, and Chris and ate a relaxed meal with his friends—no, his family. That’s who these guys were, he’d realized, not just Mark, but all of them were the family he’d never had. He knew he was unworthy of such a gift, and yet they made him feel something almost foreign—happy.

  Lance joked with Mark and Chris and pretended not to notice Jack’s steely brown eyes boring into his very soul every time he wasn’t looking at the older boy. He’d glance up while eating to find Jack eyeing him in an almost invasive sort of way that caused Lance to physically squirm. It creeped him out and confused him at the same time. Why did Jack keep doing that?

  He shivered and forced his attention back on Chris while the small boy finished his food. Jack’s intense probing looks had killed his appetite anyway, so he gave the rest of his sandwich to Chris, who grinned and popped the whole thing into his mouth and puffed out his cheeks like a squirrel. Lance had to laugh at the boy’s antics and found himself feeling a growing love for this little boy such as he’d never felt for anyone before.

  Lance, the perennial loner, was finally letting others sneak past the armor around his heart, around his emotions. First Arthur, then Mark, and now Chris. And, amazingly, he was actually willing to let them sneak in. He sighed deeply. Arthur’s true gift, it seemed, wasn’t the title of First Knight, or even the feeling of value he’d tried so hard to give the boy. No, it was much more.

  It was the revelation of Lance’s own humanity.

  He grinned at Chris and then reached out with both hands to tickle the boy until Chris, rolling and pitching on the concrete floor, almost cried with laughter.

  Finally, unnerved by that probing stare from Jack, he stopped tickling Chris and rose to his feet. “I’m gonna go check on everybody else,” he said, mainly to Mark, avoiding Jack’s penetrating gaze. “Uh, see you guys later.”

  “Can I come too?” Chris piped up instantly, and Lance grinned down at the small boy who’d effectively become his shadow.

  “Sure, Chris, c’mon.” Chris leapt to his feet and grabbed Lance’s hand. Lance cast a quick grin toward Mark. Mark grinned back, and Lance set off with Chris into the tunnels.

  Jack observed the silent exchange between Mark and Lance and settled into another funk. Mark nudged him playfully. “What’s wrong, my buff man?”

  Jack looked up into those wide blue eyes, his own brimming with pain. “I saw you guys last night.” It was barely a whisper.

  That caught Mark by surprise. “You were listening?”

  Jack shook his head sadly. “I woke up, and you were gone. When I came looking, I saw you guys asleep with your arms around each other.” He felt almost queasy, his thick fists clenching, but had to ask. “Did you hook up with him last night?”

  Mark’s lower jaw dropped open. “Hell, no! He ain’t even gay, remember? We was just talking.”

  “With your arms around each other?” Jack retorted snidely, fisting his tunic to control his shaking.

  “He’s been through a lot a shit, just like we have, and, I guess, we both needed some comfort.”

  Jack gazed at Mark sadly. “I could comfort you. I always did before.”

  Mark just shook his head. “Jack, nothin’ happened! What’s wrong with you these days? Don’t you like it here?”

  Jack pulled up his knees and cradled them, looking down at the floor. “’Course I do. But sometimes… well, sometimes I miss those times on the street, you know, when it was just you an’ me, and I could protect you, and hold you, and make you feel better when some guy treated you like shit.” He eyed Mark helplessly, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had before. Why don’t you tell him?

  Mark grabbed Jack’s upper arm and squeezed affectionately. “You still protect me, big guy, and we’re still together, right? It’s just, well, now we got Arthur to protect us.”

  Jack looked away again. “I know, but….”

  “Remember on the streets, Jacky, what we always hoped for and wished for and talked about?”

  Jack did not meet his eyes. He just nodded. “Yeah. A family that would accept us and love us.”

  “Right,” Mark confirmed enthusiastically. “And we’ve found that here with Arthur and Lance and the others.”

  Jack returned his gaze to Mark’s earnest face. “They don’ all accept us here, ’specially them gangsters. I been hearing ‘faggot’ whispered when I’m around.”

  “So?” Mark replied, moving around to sit right in front of his friend and forcing their eyes to meet. “We’re always gonna hear that shit from somebody. But they won’t try anything here cuz you’d crush ’em with these guns a yours.”

  He squeezed Jack’s biceps and grinned, which sent a shiver of longing through Jack’s entire body, but still elicited a smile.

  “Look, Jacky, you’re my best bud and always will be. But we got a home now. We got Arthur, an’ he’s the best thing to ever happen to a guy. It’ll be great, you’ll see!”

  His gushing enthusiasm finally overwhelmed Jack, who smiled and dropped his knees, grabbing the boy he loved in a tight hug. “You’re right, Marky Mark. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

  “Well don’t,” Mark said against his shoulder as they held each other. “Arthur’ll take care of me.”

  That made Jack frown again, and his heart drooped even lower. It felt like he might be losing Mark after all, but not to Lance.

  AFTER lunch, the hundreds of kids of varying ages and backgrounds, including the few girls who usually clung to Reyna, gathered in The Hub and packed it so tightly it was a miracle anyone could even breathe. Arthur sat upon his throne, Lance seated by his side. Eager faces gazed up at the king expectantly.

  “To all of thee I posit a question,” Arthur began when everyone had settled. “Doth any of thee believe thy city, indeed, thy
state and country, hath at its core the best interests of children?”

  “Fuck, no!” spat Esteban with a disgusted laugh.

  Arthur gazed at the handsome boy without malice but with firmness, and Esteban got the point.

  “My bad, homie, it’s a habit.”

  Arthur nodded. “One of an excessive number of bad habits taught to thee by thy parent’s generation.”

  “How you mean?” Darnell put in. “My granny, she don’t cuss none at all.”

  Arthur nodded again. “And yet, in thine entertainment—which was not in existence in my time—thy music and movies—art not these cuss words utilized with frequency?”

  Darnell shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

  “And doth these entertainments for children be created by children, or by adults?”

  Darnell and Esteban exchanged a look, and Esteban nodded Arthur’s way. “Okay, so what about it?”

  “Doth thou know the meaning of the word hypocrite?” Arthur asked the assembly at large.

  Reyna called out, “Yeah, my parents!”

  And the assemblage laughed.

  “How so?” pressed Arthur.

  All eyes turned to Reyna, as usual holding court in the rear. Esteban winked at her, but she ignored him. “My parents complain about poor people who don’t take good care of their kids and let ’em run wild, ’cept they do the same thing, right? Where are they now—partying in Italy while they pay me to stay here and do whatever I want.”

  “Well said, Reyna,” Arthur replied. “Hypocrites decry behaviors they themselves doth do. Rich or poor, it doth not matter. All that be of import is values.”

  “Okay, Arthur,” said Esteban, turning these ideas over in his head. “So what’s that got to do with music and movies and sh—stuff?”

  Arthur noted the near slip with a slight smile. “Alas, the very activities and language children be punished for in this state be the very same activities most common in the entertainment for their usage.”

  That light went on in Esteban’s head, and he turned to Darnell and the others with a revelatory look. “He’s right, homies. All the sh—stuff that’s in our music and movies, that’s the same stuff we get busted for and kicked outta school for and… even kicked outta the house for.” He glanced around at a lot of nodding heads.

 

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