Dawn of the Zombie Knights (9 page)

Alone in the change rooms after his run, Pete collected up his jacket just as Larson Smithers walked in. A grin crossed Smithers' face when he saw Pete.

‘What are you doing, McGee? Why don't you give up and go home?'

Pete stood up tall, ignoring his tiredness, and faced his tormentor.

‘I would not give thee the pleasure,' he said, keeping his anger in check and his voice proud.

Smithers walked over, standing toe-to-toe with Pete.

‘Do you know why I want you to fail, McGee?' he asked.

Pete, for an instant, half expected Smithers to say it was because he saw Pete as great competition, that he was scared Pete would show him up. Smithers dashed that.

‘It's because you're dangerous. I know you've done all these la-dee-da wonderful things, and I know you think you can fight and be like us normal people and all, but you can't. You only have one arm. Don't you get it? People die because of you. That magic knight died. King Cyril died. Even your mother died. I don't want to die because of you, McGee. I only want to fight with knights that are whole.'

Pete was ready to explode. He held back though; fighting another trainee knight was strictly forbidden. He also knew Smithers was wrong. He knew he could and would be a great knight, that he would protect the people he loved, that they would live because of him. After such a tough week though, doubts did begin to seep in. Smithers threw one last comment at Pete before leaving.

‘Enjoy your jacket, McGee. I hope you have enough skill to at least put that on.'

Pete looked at his jacket and realised the joke. Ha ha. Sewn-up sleeve. Classic. Well played, Sir.
(In case you didn't notice, that was sarcastic praise!)

He walked home, carrying the jacket he couldn't wear.

The wind had a chill factor of A LOT. In other words, it was really cold.

Pete tried twice to get on to Horsey Horse Horse. They were feeble attempts, neither of them really caring any more. In fact, Horsey Horse Horse just kept eating grass while Pete tried to jump up on his back, and the horse barely even glanced to see how he was going.

Pete fell into bed, tired and depressed.

And so that brings us to the end of the first week of Pete McGee's life as a squire, a trainee knight. It was devastating for him. He had decided, after chatting with his mother, that he would make a real go of it, and he was still determined to do so. But he was going through the motions by the end of the week.

What he hadn't noticed was that he was actually getting a lot fitter, and was running further and faster than ever before. He may not have cared even if he had noticed.

He lay in bed, wondering what the next week would bring. Little did he know, it would bring surprises, good and bad, and that his entire life was about to change.

While the trainee knights trained, so too did the zombie knights. They trained, and they fought each other, and they learned what their new undead beings were capable of. They realised very quickly that they had far greater strength now than when they had been alive. They also realised that they enjoyed the taste of blood and brains, the eating of which gave them strength and stamina. They didn't require sleep, so they trained night and day, and their skills increased at a rapid speed.

Sir Charge watched as he took a break from training. They were a fine order, and not only were their skills increasing, but so was their thirst for battle. And so was their thirst for darkness. Nobility and honour was becoming a thing of the past. They were a new order now, and the Black Knights did not live for nobility and honour. They lived for themselves, for power, and for chaos.

Except for that damn Sir Vyvor.

Every day he would come up to Sir Charge and go on and on about how he had noticed the other knights changing. He would go on and on about honour and valour. Sir Charge would listen, assure Sir Vyvor that he would do something about it, and then he would talk to the other knights about their path to the Wilderene Flower, once they actually discovered its location.

They would go to the flower via the villages and towns on the way, wreaking whatever destruction and feeding on whatever brains they could.

Once they had the flower, they would not return it to the oak. They would use its powers to increase their strength even more, and they would create terror in the land. They would be the greatest order of knights ever to have lived, sort of, and they would rule as no others had ruled, through fear and terror and guts and brains.

or once, on the first morning of the second week of training, Sir Mountable was in a reasonable condition when Pete turned up at his house. This meant he was awake, had eaten breakfast, was only mildly hungover, and had brushed his hair and beard.

Also for once, Sir Mountable said he would join Pete in training at the castle, although he did ask why Pete wanted to become a knight at all. Pete let that one pass by with no response. He was just so happy he was finally going to have his knight at the castle. He was just so happy he would be able to join in training with the other knights. His doubts and depression of the previous week disappeared. He was ready to go.

Pete had walked Horsey Horse Horse all the way to Sir Mountable's, and now he walked him to the castle. Every now and again Sir Mountable asked Pete why he wasn't riding the horse. Pete would make up a different excuse each time, none of which gave away the real reason … that he couldn't get up on the thing!

‘Oh, you know, he's pretty tired. I thought I would just let him walk.'

‘Well, my knees are extra bony today, and I don't want to hurt his side.'

‘I have made an appointment for the horse chiropractor for this afternoon, and I don't want to do anything that may change the curve in his spine before then.'

‘The clouds are flowing eastward.'

‘It's a Monday.'

Sir Mountable didn't question any of these excuses. He just nodded and stroked his beard.

‘But why a knight, boy? Why do you want to become a knight?'

Pete didn't need hesitations or excuses here. He simply stopped walking, stood tall and spoke.

‘Because to be a knight is to be respected by others. It is to have honour, values and nobility. Because to be a knight is to fight for what is right, and to defeat evil. Because the greatest person I have known, besides my mum, was a knight. Because I want the world to see how great I can be, that I can be great, even with one arm … and because knights have really cool armour.'

He threw that last bit in just for fun. Sir Mountable didn't laugh though. He simply nodded, stroked his beard, and started walking again. Pete, a little flushed from his speech, smiled and walked after him, Horsey Horse Horse trotting at his side.

They reached the castle.

They were early. No other knights or trainees were there. Pete put Horsey Horse Horse in the stable for the trainees' horses.

King Rayon met them at the castle gates.

‘Pete McGee. It seems you have a knight at last.'

Sir Mountable bowed low.

‘Your Majesty. I apologise for my tardiness.'

The King nodded.

‘You are here now, and that is good. You two may begin early. We are wrestling today, young McGee. Are you ready for that?'

‘Yes, Your Majesty.'

Pete was ready for anything. Bring it on! He was here with his knight and there was nothing anyone could do about that.

Training was in the main hall. Initially, each knight took their squire for personal training. They discussed wrestling tactics and techniques. They showed moves. They showed defences and offences, and they worked on grappling and throwing.

Almost
all the knights did this.

Sir Mountable sat with Pete and asked him again why he wanted to become a knight. Pete stared. He had already given an answer to that question, and a good one at that.

‘I already told you,' he said. ‘Remember?'

Sir Mountable nodded and stroked his beard, but didn't reply. He simply turned and looked over at the other knights and their trainees. When Pete realised that he wasn't going to get any help, he warmed up by himself. He did sit-ups; he jogged around the hall; he tried to do a one-armed chin-up but basically just hung there, straining so much he looked like he was a little bit constipated.

Sir Nayme, King Rayon's top knight and chief of squire training, blew a whistle. Everyone gathered in the centre of the hall. Sir Mountable stayed where he was and drank some water out of the bottle he had brought along.

‘Trainee knights,' Sir Nayme said in his deep voice. It was a voice you could hear from some distance away, although Sir Nayme never seemed to speak loudly. His voice just carried.

‘You will pair up and you will scrimmage for three rounds. A single whistle signifies the beginning of each round. A double whistle signifies the end of each round. At the conclusion of the third and final round I will blow the whistle three times.'

Pete started to look around to see who he could partner, but the decision was made for him. Larson Smithers raced over and stood by his side.

‘I would like to pair up with McGee, Sir,' Smithers said in a voice all jolly and full of crapola. ‘It's his first day here as a real trainee, and he is just my bestest friend in the whole wide world. He is the reason I signed up to assist with the trainee training. Please Sir, may we wrestle so I can look after him?'