Children of the Knight (13 page)

Often during their session, he caught one or both of them undressing him with their eyes, especially Mark, with those pools of deep blueness that seemed almost surreal. Each longing glance cast his way made Lance squirm, and when they broke for lunch he instructed them to refrain from any further comments about his looks because such behavior could lower his standing with the other kids.

“But you’re too hot to ignore!” Jack insisted, and Mark nodded his assent eagerly.

Lance just shook his head in embarrassed consternation. “All right, you guys, let’s eat, and we’ll practice more later on.”

He instructed Mark and Jack to go and have lunch, and he’d be along in a while. Despite the camaraderie he’d built up with those guys, he nonetheless felt himself trembling as they vanished down the food tunnel. What he was feeling confused him. He knew lots of girls thought he was cute—
“Oh, your hair is sssooo beautiful, and those eyes are gorgeous!”
—and now he was getting compliments from boys. Had there always been boys looking at him like
that
, and he’d just never noticed?
You know there have, fool, you just pretended there weren’t.
He honestly didn’t know how he felt about girls, or boys, eyeing him in that way. Both thought he was good-looking, both let him know by their eyes that they liked him like
that
, and both scared him. They scared him because?
You know why
.

Don’t go there, Lance!

Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry.
I need another workout
, he decided. Usually when these feelings overcame him, he’d skate them away. But that wasn’t an option right now. Off to the archery range. That’s what he’d do. And that’s where he went, avoiding Mark and Jack for the remainder of that day. But mostly, as he’d done so often throughout his life, he avoided himself.

T
HAT
evening, about one hundred of Arthur’s followers were gathered around him in the great circular chamber, seated on pillows or blankets or on the ground. Arthur sat on his throne, listening to their personal stories, continually appalled by the treatment these children had received at the hands of adults who were supposed to protect them.

And he introduced to them the code of chivalry.

“What’s chivalry, Arthur?” Mark asked, his bright blue eyes fixed with wonder on this so-very-odd man who was unlike any other man he’d ever met.

“Chivalry,” Arthur began, “is a code of conduct which all of thee shalt swear to uphold should ye chooseth to be knighted. Its primary focus beeth on honor and serving the cause of right, protecting those who beeth defenseless in this world.”

“You mean like little kids?” Chris asked, sitting on the floor, as always, near Lance, who sat in a large wooden chair beside Arthur.

Arthur nodded. “Yes, Chris, like little kids.”

Chris beamed and pointed at Lance. “Then I nominate Lance for chivalry guy of the year!” He giggled delightedly, and Lance blushed.

“Here, here! We second that,” blurted Jack from across the chamber, and Mark nodded vigorously.

Now Lance was fully embarrassed and tried to sink into his chair. But Arthur merely chuckled, and good-natured laughter rippled through the group. “I shalt take thy suggestion under advisement, Chris,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, gazing at Lance with pride. Lance could not, however, meet his gaze.

“As thou shouldst all know by now, Lance doth be my First Knight, and Liege Lord in my stead,” Arthur continued, his voice steady and very serious. “Should there be a time I cannot lead, or shalt be indisposed, Lance shalt assume command. Doth there be any amongst ye who choose to dispute this?”

“Yeah,” called out a female voice from the back. “I do.”

All heads turned to see a stunningly beautiful Latina girl stand and face Arthur. There was excited murmuring amongst the children, for no one had ever seen her before. She had long flowing hair that spilled halfway down her back, soft cheekbones, full lips presently curled into a sneer, and an athletic figure, at the moment clothed in a T-shirt and tight, hip-hugging jeans.

Enrique’s lower jaw dropped, and he elbowed Luis beside him, leaning in to whisper, “I just saw my future wife.”

“Not if I get with her first,” Luis replied, also gawking.

All eyes remained fixed on the girl, then turned to Arthur for his response.

For his part, Arthur held his composure and maintained the dignity he must if he was to command. He could not let on that she had caught him by surprise. He’d not noticed her presence.
When had she arrived?

“And thou art?” he asked calmly.

The girl haughtily tossed back her head and stood with hands on hips. “Name’s Reyna,” she said as all eyes flew back to her like flies to flypaper. “Heard about your little crew here and thought I’d check it out. See what you got going.”

Her last statement had the effect of a challenge, and all eyes returned to Arthur to gauge how he’d handle it. Lance, in particular, observed his king with keen interest.

Arthur sat very upright on his throne, one hand on Excalibur’s hilt, the other on his lap. “And thine appraisal? Wouldst thou join our cause?”

Reyna had not lost that haughty stance, and her disrespect of Arthur irked Lance.

“Depends. You I could handle. You’re a man who seems to have it together. You dress kinda weird, but hey, this is LA, capital of weird.” Then she tossed a derisive sneer Lance’s way. “But you actually expect me to take orders from a boy younger and prettier than me?”

There were sniggers from the assemblage but no real laughter. Mark’s mouth dropped open in shock, and Jack viciously mad-dogged the girl. Humiliation washed over Lance, his breathing almost stopped and, blushing furiously, he lowered his gaze to the floor.

Arthur, however, remained nonplussed.

“Yes, I do,” he stated with finality.

All eyes returned to Reyna, who stood her ground as though she knew she could whip all these boys at once. Without another word, she snatched a bow and arrow from a startled Lavern, who’d been clasping the precious weapons ever since practice had ended. With a fluidity and grace not seen amongst any of the kids thus far, she slipped in the arrow, whipped the bow up to her shoulder, and aimed it right at the tunnel beside Arthur’s throne. She moved so fast no one even had a chance to breathe, let alone react. She sent the arrow flying.

Lance leapt to his feet, afraid for Arthur. But the arrow whizzed harmlessly past him into the dark tunnel beyond. A thud and a sharp squeak emanated from the darkness, and then silence. From the sound, it was obvious that she’d killed a rat from over fifty yards, and in the dark at that!

Reyna lowered the bow and gazed smugly at Arthur before turning that haughty face toward Lance. She was better than this pretty little boy, and she knew it. She should be Arthur’s second, not him.

Arthur merely looked from her to his First Knight. “Lance” was all he had to say.

Rattled by the girl’s showy performance, and still smarting from her insult, Lance took a moment to meet her mocking gaze before stepping down off the platform. Mark and Jack, in particular, eyed him expectantly. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Lance strode across the chamber to Reyna’s side and snatched the bow from her grasp. She laughed and let him have it. Glaring at her for a moment, he held his hand out to Lavern for another arrow. The small black boy hurriedly handed one over.

Without another word, and knowing that all of Arthur’s training had unexpectedly come down to this one moment, he cocked the arrow, held his breath, raised the bow, and fired in the same direction as Reyna had shot. There was a slight sound from behind Arthur, then absolute silence.

Lance released his breath and looked Arthur in the eye from across the chamber, and the man nodded. “Enrique, retrieve the dead rat, if ye please.”

Still awed by Reyna’s strength and beauty, Enrique leapt to his feet and ran into the dark tunnel behind Arthur. In a moment he returned, carrying a dead rat.

“Hold it high for all to see,” Arthur instructed without looking. He’d trained Lance well enough. He knew what they would see.

A gasp rippled through the group as Enrique raised the dead rodent above his head. Reyna’s arrow clearly stuck out of its head. But Lance’s arrow stuck out of Reyna’s, having spilt the wood of her shaft as it struck home.

All eyes returned to Reyna and Lance, standing side by side in silence. Lance forced himself to lock eyes with her, hoping she couldn’t hear his wildly pounding heart. She smiled approvingly and nodded, giving him an appraising look.

“I’ll think about it,” she announced, and with a flounce was out of the chamber and gone into the darkness.

Still holding the rat, Enrique murmured, “I think I’m in love.”

Not a sound could be heard except the dripping of water somewhere off in the dark. The assemblage was stunned. Releasing the breath he’d unwittingly sucked in, Lance met Arthur’s gaze across that vast chamber and saw something in the king’s eyes that almost made him tear up—pride.