Lightning flew. Pete sat low on his back, the wind bringing tears to his eyes, but he would not slow the horse down. It was as if Lightning knew exactly what Pete was thinking, and needed no directions. And it was as if Pete knew exactly how Lightning was going to move, and although he held the horse's mane, he didn't need to. He let go at one stage to let his hand rest on his dagger, reassured by its coolness. He had a full quiver of arrows, and his crossbow was at his side. Nothing would stop him.
King Rayon stood before the knights and their trainees. He was in full battle gear.
âWe have news,' he said, keeping his voice strong, although there was fear behind it. âWe have news of an attack. Bandragon did not fall, but it lies damaged. The Black Knights head for us. We must defend our town against them. We, the knights, are the first and last line of defence. Though you trainees are young, you are skilled and you are brave. You will do me and your mentors proud. We must stand firm. We must not let our town fall.'
The knights cheered, except for Larson Smithers, who knew exactly what they were up against, and who knew exactly why the Black Knights were coming. But he said nothing. King Rayon continued.
âNo-one knows where these renegade knights come from. No-one knows why they are destroying towns, why they act against everything a true knight stands for. No-one knows what their intentions are.'
âI KNOW!'
Everyone turned to the entrance of the great hall. They saw, standing next to his mighty steed, a young man with determination written all over his face.
(It wasn't really. Pete hadn't been to a carnival and got his face painted. It's just a figure of speech. You probably knew that. Okay, I'll be quiet now.)
Pete patted Lightning and left him at the entrance, walking towards the knights.
âMcGee!' Smithers, who had actually been feeling hugely guilty about pointing Pete out to the zombies, tried to cover up with his usual bullying. âYou aren't meant to come anywhere near this town, let alone address the King. Get lost. We
knights
have work to do.'
He was silenced by a glare from the head of the guards, his father. Pete ignored Smithers anyway and walked straight up to King Rayon and bowed.
âYour Majesty, I know I break a number of rules in coming here, but a knight must do what is right. It is right for me to be here, as I know of the Black Knights' intentions. They seek the Wilderene Flower.'
A murmur went through the group. King Rayon hushed them with a gesture, then turned to Pete.
âHow do you know this, Pete McGee? How do you know of these dark knights?'
Pete swallowed. He hadn't talked yet of Sir Mountable's death, but he knew he must do so now.
âBecause I have fought them. I fought them with a great knight who perished at their hands. I do not seek vengeance against them for this. But I
will
defeat them, I can guarantee you of that. Will you fight with me?'
The King almost laughed at the boy's bravado. He was impressed with the look of Pete McGee, the confidence. He had changed since he had been banished. King Rayon was not pleased, however, with the news of Sir Mountable's death. He stared straight at Pete McGee, and was further impressed when the boy held his gaze.
âHow many are there, young McGee? Do you know how these knights may be defeated?'
Sir Pete McGee shook his head.
âThere are twelve, but no, Your Highness, I do not know how they can be defeated. No matter what injuries you inflict upon them, they seem to come back just as strong. And they smell rotten. Seriously. But you must answer. Will you fight with me? We do not have much time. They shall be here soon.'
The King nodded. He turned to the other knights.
âPete McGee fights with us. He has stood against the dark ones already, and he shall do so now with our support. Together, we shall rise in victory.'
The knights cheered again. Smithers glared at Pete, who ignored him. Instead, he gestured to the King to lean in. King Rayon did so.
âThank you, Your Majesty. Ummm, can I go now? The flower's at my house. I have to get it out of there to save my mum.'
The King nodded again and Pete raced over to Lightning, who bowed low in preparation. Pete leapt aboard and they were off. King Rayon turned and gathered his troops. They were a small number, but still they outnumbered the Black Knights three to one. He only hoped it would be enough.
The Order of Black Knights rode at speed towards the centre of town, death on their minds. Sir Charge wanted that flower. The other knights wanted a battle. Sir Vyvor wanted time. None of them had what they wanted.
Sir Charge yelled and spurred his horse on to greater speeds, flesh flying from his body and face as he rode, splattering the knights behind him.
Pete leapt off Lightning almost before he stopped.
âMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!'
Mrs McGee ran outside at the sound of her son's voice. She had missed him terribly, missed everything about him. She ran over and held him tight, so glad he was alright, feeling Pete's new strength as he hugged her with all his might. He quickly pulled away and spoke as he walked inside the house.
âYou have to get out of here, Mum. They're coming. They're coming for the flower. You have to get out of here now. Marloynne and Ashlyn too. Where are they?'
Mrs McGee had to jog to keep up with Pete as he strode into the kitchen. He stopped at the jar on the windowsill. It was filled with dirt. It held the Wilderene Flower.
âPete, wait. What? I think they're still at the castle, working. Who wants the flower? Who's coming?'
Pete grabbed the flower and pushed his mum behind him, protecting her. He turned and stared straight at her.
âDeath. Death is coming.'
The sound of horses approaching told Pete that Death was not only coming, but it had arrived.
eath kept riding. Pete was ready for the attack, but it didn't come. The horses kept on riding, right past the house and towards the town centre. Pete hadn't breathed since he had first heard the hoof beats.
He stood at the window, his mother still behind him, and watched as the Black Knights rode by in a flash, roaring battle cries as they went. He breathed out slowly. His mum had also seen the Black Knights.
âWhat were they, Pete?' she asked. âWhat were those things?'
Pete smiled, trying to be reassuring, keeping his voice light.
âJust some stinky old undead unkillable knights who want the Wilderene Flower and have been destroying towns in their search for it. You know, the usual old thing.'
His mum stared at him. Pete looked away, wondering what to do with the Wilderene Flower.
He couldn't leave it here with his mother. He couldn't leave her in danger. Even though he knew it was the wrong option, the thought of running away with his mum again invaded his mind.
Then he knew.
He had to get the Wilderene Flower as far away from his mother as he could. He had to let the zombie knights know that he, Sir Pete McGee, would defend it with his life. He carefully wrapped the flower and put it in his pack. Mrs McGee grabbed his arm.
âPete. No. You can't face them alone.'
âI won't be alone, Mum. All the other knights will be there and you will be in my heart. I lost you once. I will not lose you again.'
He hugged his mum, turned, mounted Lightning and rode towards the town centre. His mother watched him go, wanting to scream out to him to come back, hoping with all her heart that she would see him again soon.
The battle had begun, and it wasn't going well for the home team. They were being smashed. Sir Kewlar was ignoring the battle and simply eating someone's arm.
The King and his knights, guardians of the town, pressed forward, protecting the townsfolk as they were sworn to do. They fought well, but the zombie knights had momentum, and the number of good knights was dwindling.
Larson Smithers, to the surprise of many, including himself, fought well. He was petrified, but still he fought. He wanted to redeem himself for the last time he had faced the zombie knights, and the weakness he had shown. Although he was mean-spirited, he did have heart, and he did dream of one day being a great knight. Unfortunately, when he was knocked to the ground from behind and a zombie knight stood over him, ready to strike, it seemed as though his dream would remain just that.