The Memphis Knights

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  “Wait, but the sword checks your faith, no?”

  “That’s true,” he said, nodding. “One without true faith and the heart to be a Knight can’t carry the sword. Should they cross the line into evil, it would crumble in their hands. We would all know. Yet, it isn’t always so black and white, is it? While all among us are men of faith, some of them are drinkers. Some of them sleep around. Some of them cuss like sailors. None are evil, but are they disciplined? Does their faith run as deep? Are they as dedicated? These are the questions we old timers are forced to ask. They’re the same questions the church asks as well.”

  “So, you think the Knights should move back to a more traditional approach?”

  “I don’t know, Wyatt,” he said with a tight smile. “Both have their merits, I suppose.”

  I nodded and was about to say more but there was a knock on the door. Webb beckoned the knocker to enter and Allistair strolled in, his eyes on me.

  Turning to Webb, he said, “Apologies, Chaplain Brother. My father asked me to track down the wizard.”

  “Is there a problem?” Webb asked.

  Allistair shrugged. “Word got back to my old man that he was walking the compound unsupervised.”

  “He’s not unsupervised now,” Webb said, crossing his arms.

  Allistair seemed a bit abashed and without looking directly at the Chaplain Brother said, “Still, I’ve been ordered to bring him to the clubhouse.”

  “I see,” Webb said, then turned to me. “It’d be wise not to challenge Victor’s grace, Blade Mage. Best you go with Allistair to the clubhouse. Perhaps we can pick this conversation up later.”

  “Thank you,” I said, relieved to sit my unfinished wine glass on the desk. “I appreciate the conversation and your hospitality.”

  “Anytime,” he said.

  I followed Allistair out the door.

  Chapter 18

  Allistair kept his face forward and maintained a steady pace.

  I got the impression he didn’t want to exchange pleasantries. Maybe he was just worried about what his old man would think about him fraternizing with a dirty magic user.

  Then another thought occurred to me. One I knew I should keep to myself. I didn’t.

  “You must be in a tough spot,” I said from just behind him.

  The Knight stopped and glanced over his shoulder, giving me a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

  “Your club is divided,” I said, giving him a nonchalant shrug. “Half your club is endorsing your father as the next leader, hoping he’ll restore the old ways. The other half is rooting for your friend and praying for change. You’re stuck in the middle.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing,” I replied, forcing another relaxed shrug. “Just pointing out that I’m not envious of the position you’re in. Do you side with your father or the friend you grew up with? That’s got to be tough.”

  “I just keep my head down and do my job,” he said, turning to continue the journey.

  “That’s about all you can do,” I said, not following. “Still though, I bet there are a lot of eyes on you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked again, but this time he seemed more curious than defensive.

  “Well, like I said, you’re Victor’s son but one of Uriah’s best friends. I imagine a lot of the guys are curious where you’ll land.”

  He scoffed. “No one cares what I think.”

  “Doubtful,” I said, shaking my head. “I think you have more influence than you realize.”

  “Is this where you tell me which side you think I should take?”

  “I couldn’t give a shit who takes over as leader of the Knights.”

  “Then why bring it up?”

  “I don’t know, man,” I said, throwing up my hands. “Maybe because I’m trying to learn about your order. Maybe because it just occurred to me what a shitty position you’re in and I’m incapable of keeping my thoughts to myself. Better question... Why are you so defensive? Do you share your father’s mistrust of mages?”

  He stared at me for a few seconds before he replied, “A dark wizard did kill my brother.”

  “So...Yes?”

  “No,” he said with a sigh. “Not like my father. I’m cautiously optimistic that you’re not all murderers.”

  “Cautiously optimistic,” I repeated. “I like that. I am also cautiously optimistic that I’m not a murderer.”

  He gave me a wry grin. “Look, it’s just a tough time for the Knights. You’d normally get a better reception.”

  “I get it,” I said. “I just wish your old man would let us get some real help here to sort this out.”

  “It won’t happen,” he said. “I’m surprised he’s even allowed you or the witches to stay.”

  “Maybe he realizes that chasing down a mage without the help of a mage will be next to impossible.”

  “And you carry the sword,” he said. “He might not act like it, but that means something. He respects your role.”

  “That’s good to know,” I said.

  We started forward again and Allistair asked, “Do you think you can help us find who killed Abner?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure I can.” This time I didn’t have to force the shrug. “Whoever did it... They’re a powerful mage. More powerful than I’ll ever be.”

  “Well, I hope we find them. It’s a sin to crave vengeance, but I fear it’s in my heart, just the same.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Mine too.”

  We pressed onward in an awkward silence, finally arriving at the clubhouse. Allistair swung open the door and led me inside.

  It was like walking into a bar. In fact, there was a bar. And two pool tables. A few old arcade games were packed in one corner and beside them was an air hockey table. There were several TV’s lining the walls, each turned to different version of ESPN. A stage sat in one corner. Just big enough for a small band to play. There were barstools around the bar and couches scattered around the rest of the room. Against the walls they had full sized knight armor on display in the ancient Templar garb.

  I stood in silence, taking in the smoky aroma and rambling television sets. There were only a few Knights present. Mostly my age or younger. Two were playing pool while a few others sat at the bar.

  “So, this is the clubhouse,” Allistair said. “You can hang out here, or you can go to the other side.”

  “The other side?”

  He chuckled. “Remember that divide you were talking about? It’s been going on for longer than the past few days. This area is actually an addition to the clubhouse that Abner had built several years ago. A more relaxed area for the younger generation.”

  “And the original side?”

  “More like a formal gathering area. There’s chairs to sit in, a little library, and a few prayer rooms.”

  “Sounds exciting,” I replied. “But if it’s all the same, I’d rather hangout here.”

  He led me to the bar and motioned for me to pull up a stool. The other Knights gave me sideways glances but didn’t seem inclined to speak to me. Allistair moved behind the bar and asked me what I wanted to drink. A few moments later, I had a Jameson on ice sitting in front of me. Praise the maker.

  After that, Allistair excused himself to go report to his father with an assurance that someone would escort me back to the bunkhouse with plenty of time to get ready for the wake party.

  I sat in silence nursing my whiskey and wondering just what the hell I’d gotten myself into. Then I overheard one of the other Knights mention Uriah’s name and how angry he looked when he’d come back to the compound. I didn’t interject myself into their conversation, nor did I do anything to make it obvious I was eavesdropping, but I felt relieved that he’d made it back. I hoped to catch up with him, but it was out of my control unless he came to find me. I was a prisoner posing as a house guest. Still, the environment wasn’t bad. All I could do was wait.

  Chapter 19

  One question that h
ad been rolling around in my head... Why the hell did I need a suit for a biker’s wake party?

  As we pulled up the driveway, the answer struck me like an arrow through the heart. Living among the Noble families of the Cabal, I’d spent some time around mansions. This was something else. It looked like someone had picked up the biggest, nastiest, Hollywood mansion and dropped it right on top of a historic plantation.

  I felt like the Fresh Prince staring up at the multiple levels of house above my head. I wasn’t sure what a place like this cost, but I bet it was worth more than my soul.

  Hamish parked his rugged Jeep, with the deer’s skull on the front, between a red Lambo and a black Ferari. The drive was packed with European sports cars and upper-class luxury vehicles. I didn’t bother to count how many exactly, but I guessed there were enough rich dick cars parked around us to end world hunger.

  We got out and made our way toward the mansion along with a few others who’d just arrived. I’d spared no expense on my suit, but damn, did I feel undressed still. These folks were the upper class of the upper class. I resisted the urge to ask if they shat diamonds. Instead, I leaned in to Hamish and asked, “Where the hell are we?”

  “Mr. Love’s house,” he replied with a wry grin. “He’s a contributor.”

  “A contributor?” I replied, glancing up at the house again. “What does that even mean?”

  “He has a lot of financial interests in Memphis,” the satyr said. “The Knights help keep his businesses safe, and in return, he donates a lot of money to the club. He’s a peacekeeper in his own right. A lot of the more powerful gangs in the area don’t move on each other because their beholden to Mr. Love. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him.”

  “Yup,” Riley said, nodding at me. “Everyone knows about Mr. Love.”

  I raised an eyebrow, not sure whether he was messing with me or not. He shrugged in reply.

  We walked up a long stair case that led into the house and fell in line behind the others who’d just arrived. One rather snotty man dressed like a servant was checking names off a list. Five big burly fellas stood around him, ensuring his right to be pretentious wasn’t interrupted.

  When our turn came up, Hamish told the servant his name and his role with the Knights. Then he told the man my name and, much to my discomfort, added that I was the Blade Mage of the Ozark Mountain Cabal. Then he explained that Riley was my plus one. Oddly enough, he waved us right in.

  Another servant approached and bade us follow her to the back.

  The interior was every bit as immaculate as the exterior. It looked more like a ballroom than the inside of a house. They could’ve fit a football field in the main room and maybe a couple of basketball courts to boot. Instead, the center was a giant dance floor. A well-dressed band was stationed off to the side with a variety of instruments. Just then they were playing something soft and classical.

  At least a hundred tables were scattered across the rest of the room, but most were vacant still. There were a number of people milling about but most were servants, running from one thing to the next.

  Clearly, this Mr. Love liked to host parties.

  Above us, three levels of balconies watched over the floor.

  The servant led us under an archway and out a set of large double doors were another hundred or so tables were set up on a grand patio. There were even bar stations, despite the fact a small army of servants were scurrying about, delivering drinks and snacks. Most of the guests were here, milling around and conversing. Best guess was they were each trying to assess who was important enough to schmooze.

  I didn’t see any of the Knights, though, which seemed weird considering it was supposed to be a wake party for their leader.

  We walked toward the nearest bar and got drinks. Hamish ordered a beer, I ordered a Jameson on ice, and Riley got a water. I raised an eyebrow at him but he just shrugged and said, “How do you think I ended up homeless in the first place?”

  Fair enough. I wasn’t going to push the matter.

  After we got our drinks we moved away from the crowd and found a lonesome bush to stand beside like socially awkward rejects.

  Out of earshot of the other guests, I asked Hamish about the missing Knights.

  “They’ll be here soon,” he replied. “They’ll come together. Just the Knights. Anyone else who works for the organization is pretty much here or still trickling in.”

  “So, you know some of these people, then?”

  “Of course. Several of my siblings are working security.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Makes sense the Knights would want some of their own looking out, all things considered.”

  “Yeah, they’re just helping Mr. Love’s security staff. Technically, I’m on duty too, but since I got stuck babysitting, I don’t have to do much. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I replied, waving the notion away. “Pretty much everywhere I go, someone is always assigned to babysit me.”

  “Does that tell you anything about yourself?” Riley asked with a grin.

  “Tells me I’m doing something right.”

  Glancing around, I realized there was an abnormal amount of guards. Most were in suits and somewhat incognito. To the untrained eye, most of them probably passed as regular guests, but I’d grown up around a bunch of rich dicks like this, so security wasn’t hard to spot. There were also a few guys roaming the perimeter in SWAT type gear. A few even had dogs.

  “Is all this security necessary?” I asked. “Are they expecting trouble?”

  “Well, in case you hadn’t heard, the leader of the Memphis Knights was just murdered,” Hamish replied.

  I scowled at him.

  “Really?” Riley asked. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “Didn’t we tell you that?” I asked.

  “No, you just asked me a lot of questions and told me to come along.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to go anywhere with strangers?”

  “Yeah, but you promised to take me to a fancy-dress party.” The old man shrugged. “I figured there would be free food along the way.”

  “Anyway,” I said, returning my attention to Hamish. “Despite Abner’s murder, is there cause for concern?”

  “Could be,” Hamish admitted. “There’s a lot of fear that some of the other gangs might be emboldened by the news. There’s always plenty of work to keep things under control, but as word of Abner’s death gets out, who knows?”

  “Is that what this is really about? It seemed strange to me that the Knights would even agree to let someone else throw a wake party for one of their members. Is it because they’re worried about the other power players acting up?”

  Hamish nodded. “Like I said, Mr. Love has a lot of connections. A lot of his business involves the supernatural world. Memphis is a strange city. There’s a couple of vampire gangs, three different were-creature gangs, and a few others that will employ any manner of supernatural being. Way I figure it, Mr. Love put this on to make sure people know the status quo hasn’t changed. He wants everyone to know that the Knights are still the big dogs.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, taking a swill from my glass. “Politics.”

  “Pretty much,” Hamish said. “Actually, I’m sort of surprised he wanted to do this. Last I knew, he and Abner weren’t seeing eye to eye on some things. Maybe he just felt guilty.”

  I fixed Hamish with a blank stare. It took him a few seconds to catch on.

  “What?” the satyr asked.

  “Hamish, we’re investigating Abner’s murder.”

  “Right?”

  “So, this is pertinent information.”

  “Oh,” he said, eyes widening. “Yeah, I guess it is. I didn’t think about it.”

  “I could slap you right now,” I said, shaking my head. “Do you know why they weren’t getting along?”

  “Not sure,” Hamish said. “That was just the word. They tended to bicker. A lot of the guys think Mr. Love wants the Knights to be like hi
s own private army and that’s why he always donated money to the club. But Abner was always firm about the Knights’ role. He wouldn’t cross the line regardless of donation size. The Memphis Knights aren’t for sale.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, this is very pertinent information, Hamish.”

  A gray-haired servant approached then and asked, “Excuse me, sir. Are you Mr. Wyatt Draven?”

  I glanced at Hamish who looked as perplexed as I felt.

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied. “How can I help you?”

  “The host of the party has asked me to deliver you to him.”

  “Deliver me to him?” I repeated back. “What does that mean?”

  The servant maintained a straight face, but still managed to somehow belittle me with the look. “It means that our gracious host would like to speak with you.”

  “With me? Why?”

  “He didn’t say why,” the man replied a bit haughtily. “He just asked that I fetch you. Do please be a gentleman and follow me.”

  I glanced at Hamish and said, “Keep an eye on Riley. Make sure he finds that free food.”

  “Yeah,” Hamish replied, seeming none too thrilled.

  “And Riley,” I said, turning to the old man. “Keep an eye on Hamish.”

  “Will do, Captain,” Riley replied.

  I turned and followed the servant.

  He didn’t speak to me as we traversed back to the house. I guess he felt it would’ve been undignified to fraternize with someone in a cheap suit who was clearly not of the same caste or tit from which he suckled.

  Inside, he led me up a tall windy stair case, and then another, until we were on the third floor balcony. I realized that the view over the interior ball room also extended out to the deck that overlooked the back. The servant led me to where a late middle-aged man stood alone on the balcony, watching his guests below. A gaggle of security guys roamed the area, but not close enough to disturb him.