A Knight in Central Park(42)

No matter how much Alexandra made him think and yearn and covet, forming any sort of long-lasting relationship with her was out of the question. He had his future all planned out. Nothing would stop him from accomplishing his goals.

Joe reached out to pat the horse’s neck. Its ears flattened back against its head right before massive, ugly teeth came after him. He yanked his hand back.

“Watch your fingers,” Ari warned without turning about from the hoof he was working on.

Joe checked to make sure he still had all ten fingers. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

Ari straightened. “It’s my wife’s horse. She calls the animal Precious.” He lowered his voice. “But you can call the stubborn beast anything you want once you ride out of here. Temperamental mount, but also strong and sturdy. Just like my wife.” Ari guffawed, then slapped Joe’s back.

Joe managed a half-smile in return.

The animal pushed Ari with his nose, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Stop that!” Ari complained, raising a hand.

“Don’t shout at my baby,” Lydia scolded as she came to the horse’s aid. She smoothed a meaty hand over the horse’s muzzle without losing one finger. Then she reached into her pocket and gave Precious a lump of sugar. “Treat her right,” she told Joe, “and she will do the same by you. You have only to earn her trust.”

Joe was listening to the couple’s helpful hints when Alexandra approached, telling Joe that it was time to set off. She looked tired, much too fragile to be going off to rescue her sister from a fortress known as Radmore’s Keep. Joe glanced about. “Where’s everybody else? Your grandfather said we would have help.”

Alexandra sighed. “Grandfather has a tendency to say that which people wish to hear. He means well.”

Joe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “We can’t save your sister alone. What about those men over there?” He pointed to a dozen men working the fields, using oxen to till the land next to the fields of wheat, readying it for seed.

“They are needed here, but there is a chance we will receive aid before we reach Levonshire, the city bordering Radmore’s Keep. Grandfather assured me he would send message to his good friend, Sir Charles, in hopes that he can gather a small army of men to aid us.”

“Maybe we should wait here until we hear back from Sir Charles.”

“Nay. Sir Charles and his men, if they come, will wait for us near the borders of Levonshire and Trent.” With that said, Alexandra pulled on the reins and headed off to say goodbye to her siblings.

With each passing moment, Joe saw their little adventure turning sour. But what choice did he have? Little kids and grandpa or dangerous mission with one small woman at his side? One glance at Garrett made him quickly opt for the unsafe route through the woods. As their departure neared, the villagers became restless, speaking to one another in excited whispers. More than likely, they were taking bets on how long he would survive.

“They’ve been waiting a long while for this day to come,” Ari said, as if he could read Joe’s mind.

“Why? What’s so special about today?”

“The people of Brookshire have been living in fear for too long, heavily burdened with excessive taxes, never knowing how long the crops will keep them fed.”

“Has anyone spoken to the king about this?”

Ari shook his head. “’Twas King Henry’s own bidding that common folk be heavily taxed. Unlike the middle class, we can ill afford to pay the king in return for peace and good government.”

“But why all the excitement?”

Ari smiled. “Because you, Sir Joe, have finally come. The people of Brookshire rejoice the arrival of The Black Knight.”

Joe choked on air. “The Black Knight?”

“Aye.”

Joe assumed Alexandra had mentioned the Black Knight. “They think I’m The Black Knight?”

“Nay. They don’t think you are the Black Knight; they know you are him.” Ari winked. “Just as you do.”

Joe remained silent. If Ari knew what he really thought, the man would be highly offended.

“’Tis hope you see in their eyes,” Ari went on, “for we have been praying for you to come and right the wrongs unjustly set upon us. It is a miracle of God that you are here.”

Joe looked again at the people surrounding him, dressed in rags, most without shoes or boots. What had he gotten himself into? He was no savior. No hero. But here he was, in another world, with dozens, maybe hundreds, of people counting on him. Not only was he expected to save Alexandra’s sister, he was supposed to save an entire village. He peered back into Ari’s weathered face, felt his pulse roar in his ears. “You’ve got to tell these people that I am no miracle. I can’t help them.”