Children of the Knight by Michael J. Bowler Page B

McMullen. I’ve gotten a lot stronger.”
    As they entered the room, she pointed to a desk for him to deposit the books, observing him as he did so. As usual, he wore one of those DC skater shirts and jeans. The shirt had short sleeves, and she noticed the musculature of his fore and upper arms. He did look bigger than before. “I can see that, Lance. Have you been working out?”
    Lance nodded. “A lot.” He threw up his arms in a mock flex pose and grinned, causing her to laugh.
    “So, what did you want to ask me?” she inquired, seating herself on the corner of her desk.
    He sat on the nearest desk and gazed up at her, considering how to phrase his question. “Are there teachers here you don’t like?”
    His question completely caught her off guard, and she almost did a double take. “Why do you ask?”
    “Please, Ms. McMullen, it doth be important.”
    His earnest expression and odd choice of words further confused her. “Well, of course, there are some,” she began cautiously. “Not everyone gets along at any jobsite. Why are you asking?”
    Lance shook his head. “I’m not trying to find out who you think is a butthole, Ms. McMullen,” he said, causing her to smile, “I already know who is. I guess I just need to know how to work with somebody I don’t like.”
    Jenny felt her body relax. “Oh, is that all. Well, you could simply avoid them.”
    “What if I can’t?” he insisted. “What if I gotta work straight up with them, what if we gotta, like, depend on each other?”
    Jenny considered a moment, uncertain how to respond. “It would help if I knew what you were talking about, what you mean by depend on .”
    Lance just looked down. He had no problem lying on the streets—that’s how you survived. But he liked this lady. He didn’t want to lie to her. So he said nothing and waited.
    Jenny sighed, knowing she’d get no more information out of him. “Well, I guess, if what you’re working to accomplish is important enough, you can overlook anything about anyone.”
    He looked up at her, light dawning in his almond-shaped eyes. “You mean, like in math—the whole doth be of greater import than the parts.”
    Jenny almost chuckled at his formal, ancient phraseology. “Yes, that’s right. But why are you talking like—”
    But Lance was on his feet and out the door before she could finish. “Thanks, Ms. McMullen,” she heard waft in through the open doorway. And then he was gone with a swish of brown hair. The bell peeled at that moment, and she scurried to the door to welcome her next class, yet her mind kept returning to Lance. Something was happening with that boy. But what was it?
     

     
    W HENLance got back to Arthur’s lair, he found Mark and Jack, along with other newcomers, hard at work, sweating profusely in their chain mail shirts as they swung and hacked at each other with short-handled swords. Arthur stood off to one side, observing the training and stepping in with advice when needed. Lance walked up and stood beside him.
    “How was thy schooling, today?” he asked.
    Lance smiled nervously. “It was good. I learned something important.”
    Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “Indeed? Wouldst thou care to share it?”
    Lance nodded. “Yeah. Let me work with these guys for a while.”
    Arthur gazed at him as Lance anxiously fiddled with his hair. “Be thou certain?”
    Lance nodded again, biting his lower lip, forcing down his doubts and fears. He could do this. “Yeah.”
    Arthur nodded approvingly. “Very well. I shalt attend the archery practice. The lads seemeth to hit everything but the target.”
    He grinned, and Lance returned it. Then Arthur moved off into the tunnel designated for the archers.
    Lance sucked in a deep breath, held it a moment, and released. His heart raced, and his hands trembled a little as he stepped toward the two boys.
    You can do this, Lance…. You can do this….
    Panting and heaving, Mark and Jack ceased their aimless hacking at one