The Memphis Knights

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  “Well, on the part about not liking it, we can certainly agree.”

  Victor turned toward me again. “Have they spoken to you about the wake party?”

  “Uh, no,” I replied.

  “Did you bring formal attire?”

  I glanced down at my clothes. They were anything but formal and everything in my gym bag was exactly the same… Black t-shirts and jeans.

  “No,” I said. “The necessity hadn’t occurred to me.”

  “Well, so long as you’re in Memphis, I want you in the sight of a Knight at all times, or at the very least, someone I trust. I understand Hamish picked you up. He’ll take you somewhere to get you a suit. Then you’ll be joining us at the wake party. After that, you’ll stay in the clubhouse. We’ll have you bunk with the prospects.”

  “Cool,” I replied. “I do love sleepovers.”

  His scowl hardened and he took a step closer to me until our noses were nearly touching. “Listen to me carefully, wizard. You will stay where my Knights can watch you at all times. So long as you’re in this city, you’ll do as I, Uriah, or one of the other committee members orders you. Understand?”

  I really wanted to be a smart ass. It took every ounce of my control not to. Sure, he was being a dick. No doubt about it. But his best friend had just been brutally murdered and had left him with a pile of responsibility. Beneath that hard ass exterior, I knew he was hurting inside. More than that, he was scared. They all were. And from what little I’d learned about the man before meeting him, he’d lost a son to dark sorcery. Now his best friend and leader.

  So, I took a calming breath and said, “That’s fine. I’m just here to help.”

  Victor nodded at me, then gave Uriah one last scowl, and headed back out the front door. A few of the others followed.

  “Forgive him,” the Chaplain Brother said. “We have all suffered a great loss.”

  “I understand,” I said, smiling at him. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

  “Thank you, Blade Mage,” he replied. “Hopefully, you won’t think less of us in this time. Your Cabal has been a great ally to us over the years and we appreciate you answering the call.”

  “I’m happy to be here,” I replied, though that wasn’t quite the truth of it.

  “I am Chaplain Brother Webb,” he said, then turned to the man beside him. He was a big guy with a shaved head and a long beard. His arms were sleeved in faded tattoos and his skin had a Hulk Hogan tan. He had the Hulkamania muscles too. “This is Brother Barajas, our Turcopolier and Sergeant at Arms. He’s second to Victor.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said and stuck out my hand.

  He grabbed hold of my hand and squeezed until I thought he would shatter the bone. He didn’t return my greeting. In fact, he hadn’t spoken throughout the whole conversation.

  Chaplain Brother Webb went on. “If you need anything during your time with us, don’t hesitate to ask either of us. Or any of the Knights or other Chaplain Brothers.”

  “There are multiple Chaplain Brothers?” I asked, trying not to massage my hand in front of them.

  “We’re Templar motorcycle club, Wyatt,” said the old man with an easy smile. “There are many of us who are no longer fit to carry the sword. So, we become Chaplain Brothers and offer prayer and wisdom to those who’ve had to take our place on the battlefield.”

  “Still a bunch of badasses, though,” Uriah said from beside me. “Don’t let them fool you.”

  “Language, Uriah,” said the Webb, shaking his head. “You youngsters and breaking tradition. What will we do?”

  “We’ll get by, Webb,” Uriah said. “You old folks are just stuck in your ways.”

  The Chaplain Brother threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, well, don’t forget about the wake party this evening, Uriah. And do come along to the clubhouse with some haste. Victor may seem angry, but in truth, he’s just worried over your wellbeing. He knows your father would want him to watch out for you.”

  “I know,” Uriah said. “I get it. I’ll be along shortly.”

  As the Chaplain Brother turned to leave, the others followed.

  Sister Betran fixed Eilidh with a look and said, “Come along, dear. You’ve had enough fun for one day, I think.”

  Hanging her head, Eilidh followed the others out the door.

  Outside, their motorcycles fired to life, but I noticed Victor had left a contingent of around ten Knights. He wasn’t taking any chances.

  When Uriah and Tooter were the only ones remaining in the house, I said, “So, what was all of that about?”

  Uriah shook his head. “Victor and I don’t see eye to eye on much. That’s all.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Tooter said, giving his friend a knowing glance. Then he turned to me. “You’re here, you might as well know what’s going on. By rank, Victor is next in line to lead. But a lot of us think Uriah should take the helm.”

  “That’s the last thing I want to think about right now,” Uriah said, looking away.

  “Tough shit,” Tooter said with a shrug. “The committee has to take a vote soon, either way. A lot of the older guys, what we call traditionalists, they want Victor to take the reins. Some think Abner was a little loose with the rules. In the old days, they didn’t allow drinking in the club. Hell, they didn’t even allow swearing. If Victor is made president, it’ll be that way again.”

  “And the younger guys don’t want their club to be uptight,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Tooter replied. “So, everyone is watching. Everyone is choosing sides.”

  “I don’t want them to choose sides,” Uriah said, rejoining the conversation. “I don’t even want them to take a vote yet. It’s like... I don’t know, man.”

  “I get it,” I said. “When my dad died, they did the ceremony to choose the new Blade Mage directly after the funeral. I didn’t want to be there. I hated it.”

  “What made you stay?” he asked. “What kept you from walking out?”

  “To tell you the truth…” I paused and met his gaze. “I tried to walk. I was on my way out the door and then I wasn’t. Next thing I knew I was holding my father’s sword in my hands.”

  Uriah nodded and silence stretched between us. Finally, he said, “All right, let’s see what you found. Let’s see my father’s murder.”

  Chapter 13

  I thought of asking him again, one last time, if he was really sure, but one look at his face told me he was. I started the recording.

  Uriah remained completely still and silent, his eyes locked on the screen. His face didn’t even twitch, but occasionally he’d take a sharp breath, as though he’d forgotten to breathe.

  The second time wasn’t any better than the first. In some ways it was worse. I knew what scenes were coming, and beside me stood the tortured man’s son. I couldn’t imagine what was going through Uriah’s head as the scenes played out. If that had been my father, I’d want the world to burn.

  When it was finally over, Uriah’s voice was little more than a rasped whisper. “Start it again.”

  I did.

  A couple of minutes in, around the time the torture began, he said. “Stop.”

  I paused it.

  “Start it over again,” he said. His voice was even, but there was a desperate, manic look in his eyes.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Did you see something?”

  “Start it over,” he repeated, never taking his eyes from the screen. Through gritted teeth, he added, “Please.”

  I did. Around the same spot he told me to start it over again. And again. Whatever it was he saw, it eluded me, but given the circumstances, I wasn’t going to argue. I’d stand there all damned day starting it over if that was what he wanted.

  This time when he told me stop, the blank expression on his face transitioned to rage. His whole body was tensed like a coiled snake, ready to strike. Both his hands opened and closed into a tight fist, over and over.

  “Thank you,” he said, then he turned
and marched out the door.

  I took a moment to turn off the magical video player and followed.

  By the time I made it to the living room, he was already out the front door. Tooter was in tow, trying to keep up.

  Without a word to his fellow Knights, Uriah hopped on his bike, fired it up, and took off.

  Tooter barked at the others to follow, but it was moot because they were all already racing to their bikes. They’d seen the look on Uriah’s face. In moments, only Hamish and I remained.

  “What’s going on?” Hamish asked, moving toward me.

  I shook my head as I watched the Knights disappear down the street. “Not sure.”

  “Should we follow?”

  “Could you catch them?” I asked.

  Hamish shook his head. “Not in my jeep, no. The way Uriah hauled ass out of here, he could be halfway to Nashville already.”

  I turned and stepped back into the house. Over my shoulder, I said, “Give me a few minutes, yeah?”

  I didn’t wait for his response.

  Back in the bedroom I started the video over again.

  What was it? What had Uriah seen that had caused his reaction?

  I watched through to the place he’d told me to stop and started it over. I watched through again then paused it. There was something I missed. There had to be.

  As a kid, I’d loved the Sherlock Holmes books. As an adult, that hadn’t changed. I even had a Sherlock Holmes t-shirt. It was a little faded, but I still wore it. It was just an image of a door knocker with 221 B above it. Occasionally, someone in public would notice and ask the most annoying question in the world... ‘Do you like to watch the American version or the British version?’ It always made me wish I had a hardcover copy of the whole collection I could bash them over the head with. Two Reasons - First, to assume my love of Sherlock came from a TV show instead of the books is just obscene. Secondly, the BBC version is clearly the best. No question.

  I never fancied myself much of a sleuth, but just then I found myself wondering what the great detective would think. How would Sherlock Holmes solve this mystery? What would he say?

  He’d probably tell me to use deductive reasoning. He’d probably say that I needed to stop looking at it with my own eyes and start looking at it through Uriah’s. Obviously, the Templar had seen something both Eilidh and I missed. I didn’t know Uriah that well, but I knew he was a Knight and a biker. I knew he was a warrior and a leader. The question was what would he notice that neither of us would?

  I watched it again.

  And again.

  On the third time it finally clicked.

  I turned and went to the door. Stepping into the hall, I counted how long it took me to walk to the front door, then out to the driveway.

  “What are you doing?” Hamish asked.

  “Shh,” I hissed, still trying to count. “Be silent, Watson!”

  Hamish raised an eyebrow but remained quiet.

  My count wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. I just needed a general idea. I bolted back into the house, leaving a very confused satyr behind me.

  Back in the room, I started the video again. I waited until the moment I heard the bedroom door close and I started counting. I finished my count and waited. After an additional ten seconds I started to think I’d been wrong. At around twenty I was just sure I’d been wrong, but then I heard it, clear as day... The growl of a motor.

  My view shifted from Abner and his suffering and I watched the window. The vehicle passed by, its one tail light glowing red.

  It was a motorcycle.

  To me, it had just sounded like a loud motor. Same for Eilidh. We’d been so busy watching what was happening on screen, we hadn’t noticed what was happening off screen. The person who’d betrayed Abner had left on a motorcycle.

  The implication was obvious.

  Abner had betrayed by one of the brothers.

  It was no wonder Uriah had left in a rampage. I just hoped he wasn’t about to do something stupid.

  I shut the video off again and started for the door, unsure what I should do.

  Then another thought occurred to me. What Eilidh had said. The dark wizards might be watching.

  I turned back and activated the screen once more.

  Standing in the center of the room, I dropped the veil on Drynwyn, but didn’t draw it. I just wanted it out in the open.

  I took a deep breath and turned to face where the camera would’ve been. The wall here was covered in sigils as well, but one, and just one, looked like a slightly different shade. Perhaps this was the camera. And maybe they were watching, like dirty little demented voyeurs. For a moment, I felt like I was standing naked in church. Like my dignity had been compromised and my privacy invaded. I pushed the awkward feeling aside and traded it for anger.

  “I don’t know if you’re watching, or listening, but if you are, I want you to know something... All this time you’ve been hiding. Staying in the shadows and mastering your dark powers, and make no mistake, you certainly are powerful. Of that, there is little doubt. But now you think is the time to reveal yourselves. Now, you think there’s no one left who can stop you. You believe this world is yours for the taking, but in the back of your mind, I know you’re still afraid. When you lay down at night, there’s still a tremor of fear in the back of your mind. One tiny little sliver. And I want you to know... I am the reason for that fear. My name is Wyatt Draven. I am the Blade Mage. And I am coming for you.”

  I deactivated the spell for the last time and walked out the door.

  Chapter 14

  We were almost back in Hamish’s Jeep when I remembered my earlier promise.

  Stepping back on to the street, I walked to where the homeless men sat. Only one remained. The crazy one was gone.

  “Took off a bit ago,” the other man said, shrugging. “I tried to stop him, but he screamed something about demons and took off.”

  “That’s a shame,” I said. “Sorry.”

  He shrugged again. “Hopefully someone will pick him up.”

  I was about to reply when another thought occurred to me. Sherlock Holmes used London urchins to get information. The kids were an invaluable resource. This guy could be as well.

  I glanced down at his small pile of possessions. “How long have you been camping here?”

  “Oh, off and on for years,” the man said, giving me a gap-toothed grin. “Blade Mage houses are safe places. At least until the cops come round and run you off.”

  “How long this time?”

  “Week or so,” he said. “Days tend to run together.”

  “You remember anyone coming around two nights ago? Anyone who went into the house?”

  “Oh, sure,” he said. “They didn’t pay me no mind, though.”

  “How many?”

  “Two,” he replied.

  “Did they come together?”

  “No. They showed up a few minutes apart.”

  “Both on bikes?”

  “Sure enough.”

  “Were they both Knights?”

  “Far as I could tell,” he said. “I didn’t check their ID’s, though. They don’t pay me to be a doorman.”

  “Fair enough,” I replied. “Did you see what they looked like?”

  “Looked like bikers,” he said, shrugging again. “Is this Knight business? I’m not sure I should be talking about it.”

  “I’m helping the Knights,” I said. “If you saw the men again, do you think you could point them out?”

  “Oh, uh, well, maybe,” he said, scratching his chin. “A lot of the Knights look the same to me.”

  I drew a twenty from my wallet and handed it to him. “Thanks for your help.”

  I started toward the Jeep and the old man called after me, “I might recognize him again.”

  “Might?” I asked, turning back.

  “If it’s to help the Knights,” he said, eyeing me. “I might.”

  “This is pretty serious,” I said. “We can’t
afford to be wrong.”

  He nodded, thinking it through. “I might could point them out. Or maybe their bikes. The bikes was out here longer than they was.”

  “All right,” I said, rubbing my chin. “I don’t guess you own a suit, do you?”

  “Is that a serious question?”

  “Come on,” I said, offering him my hand. “I’m Wyatt, by the way.”

  He took my hand in his and allowed me to help him up. “Call me Riley.”

  “Well, Riley, we’re going to have to get suited up,” I said, flashing him a grin. “We’re going to a fancy dress party.”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Seriously?” Hamish also asked as he walked over to see what we were talking about. “You’re bringing him with us?”

  “He’s my plus one,” I said. “Victor leave you enough money to get two suits?”

  “I have a card,” he said, giving me a concerned look. “It’s the Knights credit account.”

  “Then you do,” I replied, patting him on the shoulder.

  “What about my stuff?” the man asked. “I can’t just leave it out here.”

  “A fair point,” I said. “Come on, Hamish. Let’s help him get his stuff into your Jeep.”

  “Seriously?” the satyr asked again. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Come on,” I said, scooping up an arm full of dirty clothes and trash bags. “This will be fun. Let’s go shopping, boys.”

  ***

  “Victor is going to kill me for this,” Hamish complained from outside my dressing room.

  “It’ll be fine,” I said, as I pulled on my dress pants. “Just tell him that Riley is crucial to the investigation.”

  “Is he?”

  I didn’t answer.

  Once we’d loaded up in Hamish’s Jeep, he drove us back toward downtown and into an area known as the Edge. There was a little tux shop there the Knights had a standing agreement with. If they needed a suit on short notice, the tailor could make it happen same day. Which was fortunate considering we did need them that day.

  Apparently, there were a lot of businesses in the city that catered to the Knights. It made sense. It was the same in some areas of the Cabal. Not many people know about the supernatural. Even some of the ones who’ve seen glimpses don’t want to believe it’s real. But for the ones who know, for the ones who’ve seen what’s really out there, a lot of them are afraid, and rightly so. The Memphis Knights were demon hunters. They were the ones who tracked down the things that went bump in the night. They got a lot of love for protecting their city.