The Reckless Oath We Made(114)

“I heard some of those Aryan boys got it in for you,” Nate said upon his return, when he learned what had betiden. “Dude named Scanlon saying you killed a blood relation of his. That true?”

“Mayhap. For my brother and I fought and slew three men that weren numbered among those who call themselves Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. One was called Scanlon.”

“You for real killed you some KKK motherfuckers? Shit, I guess that makes you an honorary nigga around here.”

Sooth, I was sore in need of a friend in that place, and Nate seemed to me an honorable man. His crime was the manufacture and sale of a controlled substance, for which he served a sentence longer than mine own, but he was ne a man of violence ne a liar. I was alone in that place, but he took me in among his brethren, and invited me to sup with them. In the yard, they kept their own place, where they lifted weights and played at cards. When I slept in the sun, I was safe among them, but ’twas Nate’s certainty that Scanlon would seek to fight me again.

“Dude come at you, figured you for an easy mark,” Nate said. “He won’t make that mistake again. Next time, he’ll come around with a couple bigger dudes. Killers.”

“I am trained in melee combat,” I said.

“You understand,” said Vernon, he that was first among Nate’s brothers. “We can’t buck for you, man. Not at this juncture. If it turned into a brawl, the warden would come down on us. Nothing personal, but you gotta fight this one yourself.”

“Nay, I ask it not of you. Ye musten guard yourselves.”

“You, too, my man. You gotta keep your head on a swivel,” Nate said.

“Certs. The black knight be ever vigilant.”

“Shit. The black knight.” Vernon was not alone in his laughter, for Nate and his brothers weren much amused that I carried the black knight with me.

Later, when we awaited lights out, Nate returned to the matter of Scanlon.

“You can’t let him off easy next time. None of that chivalry shit. When those Aryans come for you again, whoever comes for you, you gotta give them a real beatdown. Knock they teeth in. You go for blood, so they don’t mess with you again,” he said.

It liked me not, but Nate spake truth. I came to Arkansas under the dragon banner and under it I would remain for the length of my sentence in Malvern. No mercy, no quarter.

When Scanlon came for me again, he brought with him two men. One called Bobby, who had no teeth to be knocked in, and one called Orvis that stood nigh six and a half feet tall, and was made of a great deal more cunning than was Scanlon.

“I got it on good authority that you’re the man who killed my cousin Paul,” Scanlon said. He would make himself heard that day, though his voice was damaged by the last blows we exchanged.

“Sooth,” I said. “I slew thy cousin in fair combat. He came well-armed and might have slain me, but could not.”

“What the fuck is this?” Orvis said. “Speak some fucking English.”

“That don’t mean shit to me,” Scanlon said. “All I know is this fucking nigger lover’s gonna answer for Paul’s death.”

Answer, I did.

They three pressed me to a corner, as tho they would stop my escape, but in truth, it gave cover to my back, that they could not attack from all sides. Certs my life was forfeit if I failed, so I fought as tho I meant to rend their limbs from their bodies.

I wished I had a lion to come to my aid, as did Yvain, but ’twas I alone. Tho they beat me and wounded me, I spared them not and gave them what hurt I could. Bobby was no more than a flea, and I felled him with a blow to his knee that made him cry out, and he would fight no more.

As Orvis made to crush me with his fists, I grappled Scanlon as I had his kinsman before him. Once I made him fast, I smote his head upon the wall, a dozen times or more, til blood stained the stones of Malvern.

Then I faced the giant alone.

Had we fought full armored, we should have shattered our shields and bent our blades. The battle burned hot, for the gaolers wished our feud ended and stopped it not.

Orvis and I traded blows til our arms tired. Unlike Yvain and Gawain, we had no love between us, and Malvern was no place for honor. I fought on, tho my sides heaved with effort, and my breath was like a knife, where Orvis broke my ribs.

Ere ’twas done, methinks we both would have given much to quit the field, but we could not fight to a draw. If I bested not Scanlon’s giant, I would have no peace, and the giant’s pride allowed him grant me no quarter.

I found one blow more in my hands than had the giant in his. I found his jaw softer than my skull. I found the virtue to advance, when he retreated. At last, he lay upon the ground, a bloodied heap, while I stood firm upon my feet. I, conqueror, and he, conquered.

I was taken first to the infirmary, where my arm was put back into its socket. ’Twas the same as was injured before. My ribs were bound and my nose and fingers splinted. My head was declared not too badly broken, tho I had used it to break the teeth and nose and fists of a giant. Thence, I was forsent to what they called Segregation, where there weren no windows and none but those within me to speak to.

In a short while I kenned not day, night, nor the passage of time. The black knight laid plans as tho like Edmond Dantès, we weren entombed within le Chateau d’If. He was aright in one thing. If I could tame ne my mind ne mine heart, I would make my body submit. Hour upon hour, I built muscle, strained sinew, said my prayers upon a bank of sweat and pain. Let Hildegard say what she might, in that place where there was dark but no night, I thought long on Lady Zhorzha’s milk-white thighs and the flame twixt them. I had beaten a giant, but I surrendered to lust.