Children of the Knight by Michael J. Bowler (book recommendations based on other books txt) 📖

>“No, Sir Este,” he announced, his voice loud enough for all to hear. “It doth not be over. It hath barely begun.”

He spotted the paramedic vehicle and clambered atop its hood, the flashing red light illuminating his determined, tear-drenched features.

He unsheathed Excalibur and raised the sword high above his head, the blood from his earlier battle now gleaming bright crimson under the spinning light.

“Hear me, lads and ladies! This night hath delivered unto us both great triumph… and unbearable tragedy. And yet, if the loss of… of Sir Lance—” He paused to choke back a sob. “—is to have meaning, then we must go forward. We must continue our crusade until we achieve all our goals and make Lance’s dream a reality. And I….” He turned his gaze three hundred and sixty degrees to take in the sea of anxious young faces. “…I truly love all of thee, and I shall care for thee as long as I breathe.”

A rousing cheer erupted from the multitude of knights.

Arthur turned toward the mayor, the city council members, and the police chief still huddled together at the bottom of the steps.

Silence reigned. Every person present had their eyes and ears focused on the man atop the ambulance. Throughout the city, everybody watching television 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.

“You see around me… children,” Arthur began, his voice carrying easily over the silence. “Your children. You created them, and then you rejected them. You served your own interests first and theirs second. You allowed them to learn from immoral examples, and then cast them aside when they did follow those examples. You have 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 children in equal measure. You 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 cause 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 cheered and waved their swords with passionate excitement.

“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 beloved son. And yet my dearest Lance did not think his sacrifice a vain or empty one, for he dreamed of a world where children might retain the right to be children, to be protected and nurtured, and he has given his life so that other children may have a better one.”

He pointed Excalibur, and several boys near the dumpster tossed lighted Molotov cocktails into the mass of backpacks, igniting the drugs. As the fire grew in intensity, the kids cheered and 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.

“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. “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 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 nodded 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 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. You can either join it or be left behind. But the new Camelot is right here, right now!”

He raised Excalibur and swung it over his head. 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, 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 gripped the pull cord and turned back to face the throng.

Arthur swept his gaze around and settled on Chris, still cradled within Jack’s strong embrace. He sheathed Excalibur, leaped down off the vehicle, and went to stand beside Jack and Chris.

“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 more like him, not less.”

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 you all who be watching become so busy with your own lives that you cannot care about such as these? Simply because they be not of thine own flesh and blood?”

He scooped Chris into his arms, and strolled confidently toward Llamrei. He 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 him.

“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 what is right, and we fight. We march. And ultimately, we shall make this 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.

Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and placed it in Chris’s hands. Chris’s eyes lit up 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 billowed to the ground, revealing the enormous mural.

Gasps of surprise rose from the crowd as everyone became aware of the mural, and a stunned silence followed as they gazed raptly at the image.

Arthur turned to look, his splintered heart shattering anew at the sight before him.

The mural brilliantly 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. Lance’s luxurious long hair framed his face, held back by his signature gold circlet, giving him a regal 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.

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

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

Jack yelled it louder than the rest. A lone tear clung to his bruised cheek, as though unwilling to let go.

“You’re my hero, Lance,” he whispered softly, placing both hands gently against his heart, “and always will be.”

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 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 Lance, and a thunderous cheer rose to the heavens.

The future… was already here.

 

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