A Knight in Central Park

chapterTwenty-Two

The clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness.

—John Muir

Joe sat up, every muscle stiff. Both he and Alexandra had dozed off, and he was surprised to see that it was morning. The frogs and toads had finally finished with their nocturnal chorusing, but it was the high-pitched screech of a predawn bird that woke him. If he were home, he’d be listening to the dull drones and unsettling groans of passing vehicles instead of the songs of the tree crickets. He rubbed his head and could only imagine what he looked like. His hair felt like a bird’s nest after a storm and his whiskers had grown past the stubble stage.

Although less than three weeks had passed since he’d arrived in this century, it felt as if months had gone by. For the first time in days he thought about his other life, wondered if time didn’t hold still after all. By the time Alexandra had returned home after her visit to the future, hours had passed. He thought of his students and his life’s work and wondered if Shelly was worried about him. Mrs. Peacock, his neighbor, would be thrilled to discover he’d disappeared into thin air.

Alexandra was up and tending to her brother, filling him with warm broth, one spoonful at a time. Apparently, she’d been awake for hours. The fire was well fed, sending a stream of smoke into the sky, and the horses grazed nearby.

Joe let her and Garrett be as he looked around. They were in the center of a wooded universe. Sunlight filtered through a canopy of pines and oaks. He inhaled the woodsy scent of pine and sap and listened to the trickling of a nearby stream.

Weeks ago, the thought of taking an icy cold bath in a stream would have made him cringe. Now he felt elation at the thought of it. He listened for a moment to the chorus of birds’ song. And, in that moment, he realized he’d been away from home for way too long. He came to his feet, cracking a twig and rustling dry leaves in the process.

Alexandra glanced over her shoulder. “Good morning, Sir Joe.”

“Just call me Joe,” he said as he grabbed hold of the jug of water. He took a swig and used it to rinse his mouth, spitting into the leaves behind him. He moved to Alexandra’s side and nodded at Garrett when he saw that the boy was awake. “How are you doing, kid?”

“The bastard hardly scratched me,” Garrett said through gritted teeth, doing his best to remain his old indestructible self as Alexandra helped him sit up a bit.

“He is doing well,” she said. “The bleeding has stopped, and he ate some broth besides.”

Joe nodded. “He seems to be doing fine. It would take more than a couple of ruffians with swords to take your brother down,” he added, noting the pleasure Garrett took from hearing the words. “But you should have woken me,” he said to Alexandra. “I would have gathered wood for the fire. I didn’t hear you get up.”

“’Twas just as well. I could not sleep.”

A branch snapped, the sharpness of the sound cutting into their exchange. A flock of birds fluttered from the trees.

Alexandra grabbed the dagger at her side.

Neither of them said a word.

Joe glanced over his shoulder at the sword lying near his makeshift bed. Another branch snapped. Dry leaves crunched beneath booted feet as someone approached. They all turned in the direction of the noise, watching as a shadowed figure came their way.

It was Sebastiano, and they might have felt relief at seeing him if he wasn’t holding a dagger to George’s back. Joe had tied George naked to a tree last night, but somehow the man had gotten loose. Joe noticed a woolen mask that had fallen about Sebastiano’s neck and a ragged cape swept over his shoulders; both garments seemingly made from an old coarse blanket.

Joe frowned at seeing George untied. “I guess I’m not as handy with tying knots as I had hoped.”

The man spit at Sebastiano’s feet. “The king will have you hung for this!”

Sebastiano put a knee to the man’s gut, silencing him for the moment. “’Tis the Black Knight you are speaking to you addle-headed bastard. If you say another word, ’twill be spoken with respect.”

Alexandra pointed a finger at the man in Sebastiano’s grasp. “He and his companion have hired and paid a man to kill King Henry.”

Sebastiano squeezed the man’s neck within the crook of his elbow. “Tell me where the king is to visit next. Tell me now if you want to live.”

“I know naught of that which she speaks. ’Tis R-Radmore’s Keep where the king is expected to visit. I know n-not when though,” George answered between gasps for breath.

Alexandra looked to Sir Joe. “’Tis Richard’s keep he speaks of.”

“Run off,” Sebastiano said to the man. “Tell your ill-bred friends that it is I, the Black Prince who set you free. Tell them also that the Black Knight has returned. Now go!” He pushed him to the dirt and shooed the half-naked man away. “Spread the word! And dare not come again unless you are ready to meet your maker.”

The man was a few feet away when he stopped to glare at each one of them, hatred seething from eyes. “You will pay for this,” he said as he set off, sprinting for the woods. “Every one of you.”

Joe shrugged, then gave Sebastiano a skeptical look. “The Black Prince, huh?”

“Aye.” A wide grin spread across his face, making him look more like a swashbuckler and less like a medieval warrior. Sebastiano bowed before Alexandra, but she was busy and went back to Garrett’s side.

“What happened to the boy?” Sebastiano asked.

“That man you let escape tried to kill the boy,” Joe said. “Despite the gash in Garrett’s side though, the kid will be fine.”

“Do not worry about him,” Sebastiano said, referring to George. “He will get his just do. I guarantee you that.”

Joe nodded. “So what brings you here?”

“After I awoke from a long, deep sleep,” Sebastiano answered wryly, his brows arched. “I thought to aid you in your quest.”

Joe shook his head with amusement. “You were supposed to drink from the cup on your left.”

“Apparently.”

They both shared a laugh.

“I like to think I have things under control here,” Joe went on, “but if you have nothing better to do, then I’m sure we could use another set of hands.”

Sebastiano stroked his young chin. “I have been meaning to ask you what sort of accent it is you have picked up these past many months? Have you been hiding out in Wales, my friend?”

“I never said I was your friend,” Joe mocked, still distrustful of the young man. Although, he mused, Sebastiano could very well have saved their lives by stopping the thug from catching him off-guard.

Sebastiano laughed and followed Joe to where their bags lay. “Ah, so ’Tis true. The Black Knight has no friends; his heart as cold as the arctic winds of the North Pole, his humor nonexistent.”

Joe did his best to ignore Sebastiano as he shuffled through the numerous saddlebags until he found two cups. Then he moved to the fire and filled both with warm broth.

Still chuckling, Sebastiano stayed at his side, taking the cup Joe offered. “I do not mean to be disrespectful, old man, although I must admit ’Tis said by most that you have no heart or humor.”

Joe spared only another shake of his head. “I hate to disappoint you, but I am sincere when I tell you I am not the Black Knight.”

Noting the skepticism in Sebastiano’s eyes, Joe added, “I know, without a doubt, that I’m not the Black Knight. Someone close to me has spent a lifetime searching for the Black Knight’s identity. It has been well documented that the knight saved King Henry’s life and prevented England from possible downfall. It has also been written that the Black Knight can ride a horse as well as he can walk the beaten earth.” Joe smiled, then shook it off with a snort. “You’ve seen me ride.”

“But then how do you explain the pendant, the clothes, the very scar behind your ear?”

Joe shrugged. “I can’t.”

Sebastiano finished off his broth and set the cup to the ground near the fire. “Ah, well, whatever you say.” He glanced over at Alexandra. “You love her, do you not?”

Joe smiled. “Love? No,” he said. “We’re as different as two people could ever be. Let’s just say I like her very much.”

“That the two of you are different...what might that have to do with how you feel about her?”

“Everything,” Joe said, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Absolutely everything.”

Joe made his way to the horses. Sebastiano followed, like a leach sucking the very blood from Joe’s veins.

Precious had both ears back, ready to bite one of the other horses if they so much as looked his way. Joe stroked the animal’s neck and let the horse lick the salt from his palm.

“So,” Sebastiano said, “you are traipsing across the countryside, helping a maiden in distress for no other reason, but to fill your day?”

Joe looked at Sebastiano. “Next, you’re going to tell me that although the Black Knight has a heart as dark and lonely as an empty cave, he spends his free time saving women who are in dire need of his aid.”

Sebastiano raised a brow. “For one who has never met the man and claims he does not exist, you know him well. But ’Tis not just any fair maiden he helps, only the beautiful virginal ones.”

Joe felt a headache coming on. “I made her a promise.” Joe pulled a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket, counted the lines he’d made for each day that passed. He had less than two weeks left. “And I’m running out of time.”

“Perhaps if I help you,” Sebastiano said, “you will agree to help me in return.”

For the next few minutes, Sebastiano revealed how he knew King Henry’s life was in danger. Apparently, Sebastiano himself had been hired to warn the king of danger. “If the message sent to Windsor is but the truth,” Sebastiano said, “then the king’s ruination is to take place within the week. It appears King Henry has taken a different route from the one his advisors had mapped out. Thus my frustrations have grown from not knowing where the king would be on any given day. But if that man I released speaks the truth, then I have only to get to Radmore’s Keep and await there.”

Sebastiano wasn’t just any ordinary fair-haired boy wandering the countryside, Joe quickly realized, but one of many young men sent out to gather information, find the king, and warn him of impending danger. Sebastiano, it turned out, had been following George and Udolf prior to their taking Alexandra and Garrett from the inn and had every intention of keeping at their heels. That is, until the wine had put him to sleep.

Joe’s tone grew serious. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, and I understand the seriousness of your mission, but I can’t help you. I am working on a deadline myself.” Joe sighed, having no desire to explain his crazy situation. “You’re welcome to come with us or take one of the horse’s left behind by the men you’re after.”

Sebastiano appeared thoughtful. “Susan told me of your plans to liberate her sister from Radmore’s Keep.”

Joe nodded.

“You are only but a day’s ride from there. It appears we are headed in the same direction. Last night whilst I followed your trail, I had much time to contemplate how you might gain access into Sir Richard’s keep. I have a plan.”