weapon.
Lance sensed their hesitation and lunged dramatically with the blade, causing both teens to turn and bolt out of sight down the dark, empty street. Satisfied, he returned the blade to the small scabbard around his waist and held out the coat to the little boy. The boy gingerly took the coat, his tear-stained face shining with gratitude and a bit of fear.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice shaky.
Arthur approached on Llamrei, and the boy gasped aloud in surprise. Lance laughed, his fury dissipated.
“It’s okay, kid. He’s King Arthur. He take care of you.” Lance’s reassuring smile seemed to relax the boy. Arthur again noted the calming effect Lance had on younger children.
“What beeth thy name, lad?” asked Arthur.
“Uh, Chris, sir,” the boy stammered, staring in awe at the magnificent white horse and the man atop her.
“Have no fear, Chris,” Arthur assured him. “Thou art amongst friends.”
Lance nodded reassuringly at the little boy. Suddenly, without warning, Chris grabbed Lance in a tight hug. Lance froze, his stomach dropping, his heart in his throat. Arthur eyed the boys carefully to see what would transpire.
“Thank you so much! You saved my life.” Chris bubbled gratefully into Lance’s leather jerkin. “What’s yer name?”
Lance gradually relaxed his stiff posture, forced air back into his lungs, fought the wild beating of his heart, and hesitantly returned the hug. “I’m, uh, I’m Lance.”
Chris continued clutching tightly as though afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, his hero would disappear. “Thanks, Lance.”
Arthur looked down at the two boys, and Lance gazed up at him. Arthur noted the beads of nervous sweat hugging Lance’s brow, sweat he surmised came more from the small boy touching him than from the encounter with the two teens. He smiled supportively.
“That be a brave and noble act on thy part, young Lance. It doth give me pride to see thee choose to do what be right, rather than what be easy.”
Lance blushed again and glanced down at Chris so he wouldn’t have to see that look of approval in Arthur’s eyes. “I jus’ don’ like see’n little kids git punked. It ain’t right, ya know?”
“I know indeed,” Arthur replied knowingly, once more secure in the knowledge that Lance was truly the chosen one of his vision. “Come, lads, up on Llamrei, and let us fly this place.”
Lance happily separated himself from Chris, who only let go with reluctance. “You ever been on a horse?” he asked the boy with a tight smile.
The small boy shook his head.
“Well you will now,” Lance replied, gripping the smaller child and hoisting him up to Arthur, who snagged the thin arm tightly and swung Chris around behind him in the saddle. Then he looked approvingly at Lance, who bent to retrieve his board.
“Thy strength has considerably increased, Lance, hast thou not noticed?”
Lance flushed again, realizing that Arthur was right. Hefting Chris had been pretty easy, much easier than it would’ve been a couple of weeks back. Arthur’s training was paying off.
“Yeah.” He grinned up at Arthur. “Yeah, I have.”
Smiling, Arthur reached out a hand, and Lance clasped it firmly, flipping himself up and behind Chris onto the saddle. Nervously, Chris turned his head toward Lance. “Don’t let me fall, Lance!”
Lance flashed his most reassuring grin. “Don’t worry, little man, you’ll be fine.” With some reluctance, he slowly and gingerly slipped his arms around Chris to lightly hold the boy in place, but Chris gripped his hands tightly and pulled them all the way around him, forcing them to press against each other snugly. Lance tensed up a moment at the closeness but slowly relaxed as Arthur spurred his horse forward, and the three of them melted into the shadows.
C ENTRALJuvenile Hall, also known as Eastlake, the largest juvenile facility in the United States, occupied a sprawling expanse of land east of downtown Los
Lance sensed their hesitation and lunged dramatically with the blade, causing both teens to turn and bolt out of sight down the dark, empty street. Satisfied, he returned the blade to the small scabbard around his waist and held out the coat to the little boy. The boy gingerly took the coat, his tear-stained face shining with gratitude and a bit of fear.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice shaky.
Arthur approached on Llamrei, and the boy gasped aloud in surprise. Lance laughed, his fury dissipated.
“It’s okay, kid. He’s King Arthur. He take care of you.” Lance’s reassuring smile seemed to relax the boy. Arthur again noted the calming effect Lance had on younger children.
“What beeth thy name, lad?” asked Arthur.
“Uh, Chris, sir,” the boy stammered, staring in awe at the magnificent white horse and the man atop her.
“Have no fear, Chris,” Arthur assured him. “Thou art amongst friends.”
Lance nodded reassuringly at the little boy. Suddenly, without warning, Chris grabbed Lance in a tight hug. Lance froze, his stomach dropping, his heart in his throat. Arthur eyed the boys carefully to see what would transpire.
“Thank you so much! You saved my life.” Chris bubbled gratefully into Lance’s leather jerkin. “What’s yer name?”
Lance gradually relaxed his stiff posture, forced air back into his lungs, fought the wild beating of his heart, and hesitantly returned the hug. “I’m, uh, I’m Lance.”
Chris continued clutching tightly as though afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, his hero would disappear. “Thanks, Lance.”
Arthur looked down at the two boys, and Lance gazed up at him. Arthur noted the beads of nervous sweat hugging Lance’s brow, sweat he surmised came more from the small boy touching him than from the encounter with the two teens. He smiled supportively.
“That be a brave and noble act on thy part, young Lance. It doth give me pride to see thee choose to do what be right, rather than what be easy.”
Lance blushed again and glanced down at Chris so he wouldn’t have to see that look of approval in Arthur’s eyes. “I jus’ don’ like see’n little kids git punked. It ain’t right, ya know?”
“I know indeed,” Arthur replied knowingly, once more secure in the knowledge that Lance was truly the chosen one of his vision. “Come, lads, up on Llamrei, and let us fly this place.”
Lance happily separated himself from Chris, who only let go with reluctance. “You ever been on a horse?” he asked the boy with a tight smile.
The small boy shook his head.
“Well you will now,” Lance replied, gripping the smaller child and hoisting him up to Arthur, who snagged the thin arm tightly and swung Chris around behind him in the saddle. Then he looked approvingly at Lance, who bent to retrieve his board.
“Thy strength has considerably increased, Lance, hast thou not noticed?”
Lance flushed again, realizing that Arthur was right. Hefting Chris had been pretty easy, much easier than it would’ve been a couple of weeks back. Arthur’s training was paying off.
“Yeah.” He grinned up at Arthur. “Yeah, I have.”
Smiling, Arthur reached out a hand, and Lance clasped it firmly, flipping himself up and behind Chris onto the saddle. Nervously, Chris turned his head toward Lance. “Don’t let me fall, Lance!”
Lance flashed his most reassuring grin. “Don’t worry, little man, you’ll be fine.” With some reluctance, he slowly and gingerly slipped his arms around Chris to lightly hold the boy in place, but Chris gripped his hands tightly and pulled them all the way around him, forcing them to press against each other snugly. Lance tensed up a moment at the closeness but slowly relaxed as Arthur spurred his horse forward, and the three of them melted into the shadows.
C ENTRALJuvenile Hall, also known as Eastlake, the largest juvenile facility in the United States, occupied a sprawling expanse of land east of downtown Los
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