“Are you by any chance suggesting that I’m not worthy to bear Excalibur?” I said carefully.
“Not on the best day you ever had,” Sir Gareth said cheerfully. “But then neither am I, or any of the London Knights. Excalibur is so much more than a sword, or any enchanted blade. Whoever bears Excalibur has the power to shape the fate of nations or change the course of history.”
“Is that why you felt compelled to make a show of strength?” I said, glancing at the other knights, standing still and silent and watchful.
“Just being cautious,” said Sir Gareth. “And, to show respect. To the sword Excalibur.”
“And to the man who bears it?”
“Perhaps. As I said: your reputation goes before you, John Taylor.”
“Who are you people?” I said bluntly. “What, exactly, are the London Knights? I know the name, I know the reputation, but I don’t think anyone knows exactly what it is you do. And I’m not handing Excalibur over to just anybody.”
“Fair enough,” said Sir Gareth. “We go to great pains to keep what we do secret. We’re not in it for the applause. Now, do you want the long version, or the short version? The short version misses out a lot of fun stuff, but the other version does tend to go on a bit. We have been round for a very long time ... What say I hit the high spots, and you can ask questions afterwards?”
“Can you guarantee there will be an afterwards?” I said. “One of the few things I have heard is that you people have a tendency to execute those you consider unworthy.”
“Oh, we don’t do that any more,” Sir Gareth said briskly. “Or at least, hardly ever. Only when we feel we absolutely have to. Now then, the London Knights are descended from those original knights who sat at the Round Table in Camelot, serving King Arthur and his glorious dream of justice, of Might for Right. The knights themselves were slaughtered at the final battle of Logres, fighting Mordred’s army. All save one. The knights fell, and the dream was over.”
“You did win, in the end,” I said.
“Nobody won. Arthur and Mordred killed each other, both armies were destroyed, and the land was devastated. All they had built, gone, less than the dust. Good men, the finest of their generation—all that was left were piled-up bodies in the blood-soaked mud. But one knight survived. He gathered up all the families of those who fell and took them to a safe place. To the Unknown Castle. And down the centuries he slowly rebuilt the order of knights and based them here in London. That the might and the glory and the traditions of Arthur’s dream might not vanish from this Earth. We maintain the chivalric way, serving the good and battling evil. The London Knights.
“We are warriors. We are the secret army, the hidden force, the men who ride to battle when all else has failed. We don’t solve problems, we don’t investigate mysteries, and we don’t do diplomacy. We fight. We are the steel hand; we are sudden death; we are vengeance.
“Mostly we work behind the scenes, apart from everyday society, that we might not be corrupted by it. We fight our wars on far-off worlds and in hidden places, and no-one knows our triumphs and our losses but us. The London Knights stand firm against evil; that is all you know and all you need to know. We are still a religious order as much as an army, with every knight sworn to give his life and honour and everything else that matters to the cause that never ends.
“We are the guardians of the world. Any questions?”
“Where were you when we could have used you, during the Lilith War?”
“We don’t sweat the small stuff,” said Sir Gareth.
I glared at him. “All right. Who’s in charge here?”
“Our leader is the Grand Master. That last original knight who survived the battle of Logres. Perhaps immortal, certainly very long-lived. He goes on, ensuring we still follow the right path and maintain the old traditions.”
I didn’t say anything, but I thought I had a pretty good idea of who this Grand Master might be. Though how he was still round was a mystery to me. I met Sir Kae, Arthur’s stepbrother, back in the sixth century; sometime after the final battle of Logres. In fact, I bashed his head in with his own spiked mace after he disfigured my Suzie. Hopefully, he didn’t still bear a grudge after all these years.
“How is it that your Grand Master is still alive?” I said finally. “I don’t remember any immortal knights in Arthur’s Court.”
Another knight stepped forward, to stand beside Sir Gareth. “Those are our secrets. Ours to know, not yours.”
“Allow me to introduce Sir Roland,” said Sir Gareth. “Hardcore traditionalist, doughty fighter, and a real pain in the arse when it comes to getting your paper-work in on time.”
There was a brief chuckle amongst the other knights, quickly dying away as Sir Roland looked back at them. He carefully lifted off his steel helm and tucked it firmly under one arm, revealing the face of a man in his fifties with close-cropped grey hair, cold grey eyes, and a steady gaze. He looked hard used by life, with deep lines etched into his face, but a small smile kept appearing at the corners of his mouth as though it couldn’t quite help itself. There was a sense of barely suppressed energy about the man, of a need for battle or just plain violence, to soothe his inner fires.
“I can’t believe the Lady gave Excalibur to a jumped-up thug like you, Taylor,” Sir Roland said briskly. “Oh yes, boy, I know all about you.”
“He has a subscription to the Night Times,” said Sir Gareth. “And the Unnatural Inquirer.”
“John Taylor, a man who has warred with angels, battled with immortals, and meddled in more ethically dubious areas than is good for any one man,” said Sir Roland. “You choose your enemies well, boy, but your friends are little better. Is it true you and Shotgun Suzie are an item now?”
“Yes,” I said, taken aback.
Sir Roland smiled his brief smile. “Well. Never saw that one coming. You have consorted with gods and immortals, the dead and the undead, and worst of all, you spent time with that despicable sorcerer, Merlin Satanspawn.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” I said. “Well, actually, he was ... but he had his redeeming qualities. And he did go to his final rest rescuing the Nightside from destruction.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing,” said Sir Roland.
“We’re not going to get along, are we?” I said.
“Who knows?” said Sir Roland, suddenly all bluff and cheerful. “Early days yet! Now, if you really have got Excalibur ... show it to us.”
“That is why I’m here,” I said.
I reached up over my shoulder, taking my time about it. The knights’ eyes followed my every move. I grasped the invisible hilt and drew Excalibur from its invisible scabbard with one easy move. The sword flashed into life between us, the golden blade filling the air with its glorious light. It was as though the sun had come down amongst us, to bless us with its life. The sword blazed more brightly in the castle hall than it ever had in the Nightside, as though it was back where it belonged. As though it had finally come home. And one by one, amidst a soft clattering of armour, the last and greatest of all the knights in the world slowly lowered themselves onto one knee, to bow their heads to that most ancient and honourable blade, Excalibur. I stood before them, holding the sword, and never felt less worthy in my life.