Dawn of the Zombie Knights by Adam Wallace Read Free Book Online

blood-shot and watery. He stroked his grey beard, which stuck out in all directions, as did his wispy hair. He looked at Pete and grunted, his eyes darkening as he considered the question.
    â€˜Ugh? Son? I have no son. Be gone. How did you enter my home anyway?’
    The old man’s voice was deep but croaky, sounding like a lion with a cold. Pete pointed to the window.
    â€˜Ah, of course,’ the old man said. ‘I never remember to lock it.’
    He looked closer at Pete.
    â€˜Why do you seek a son of mine? What is the name of the one you seek?’
    â€˜Sir Mountable,’ Pete answered, wondering if he was even at the right place. He wondered this even more when the old man, with a lot of effort and a lot more groaning, stood up. He coughed and held his head before speaking.
    â€˜Well, m’boy, you’ve got him. Sir Mountable at your service,’ he said, bowing low before walking into the kitchen, still coughing. Pete’s jaw almost hit the ground. Someone, either this old guy or the King, was playing a joke on him. Surely this couldn’t be his mentor knight. As he looked around the room though, he started to believe.
    Leaning against a wall in the corner … a knight’s suit of armour.
    On top of the dining table … a knight’s broadsword, albeit a rusty one.
    On the kitchen bench, with some dead flowers sticking out of it … a knight’s helmet.
    On the floor in the lounge, upside down with fruit in it … a knight’s shield.
    On the wall … a certificate certifying that Sir Mountable had indeed become a knight.
    Pete stood and went into the kitchen, where the possible Sir Mountable cracked three eggs straight into a mug, crumbled up some wheat into the eggs, mixed it all up and drank it down. He leaned against the bench, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at Pete.
    â€˜Best thing after a night of ale,’ he said, his voice a little less croaky. ‘Now. What is it you want from me?’
    Pete was feeling his courage and hopes seep away. It wasn’t easy to even say the words.
    â€˜You are to be my mentor,’ he said. ‘I was accepted by the King to train as a knight. I am to be your squire.’
    Sir Mountable stroked his beard. ‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘I truly do, young man. I did receive a message from the King saying that I was to be at the castle some day …’
    â€˜Today,’ Pete interrupted. The man nodded.
    â€˜Perhaps. Still, I believed it to be a joke of some sort,’ he said, his voice dying off, his eyes looking at something Pete was unable to see. He decided that it was time to make things happen.
    â€˜Look,’ he said, standing up. ‘I am going to become a knight. If you will not help me, I will find someone who will.’
    â€˜Is that so?’ The old man’s eyes showed their first real sign of life, and it gave Pete some hope. ‘I am a tired old man, boy. What good can I be to you?’
    â€˜King Rayon assigned me to you, and so you shall be the help that he knows you to be. He must have faith in you.’
    â€˜Again, is that so?’ He looked at Pete’s jacket. ‘You have only one arm.’
    Pete stared casually at his sewn-up sleeve, and then did a shocked double-take.
    â€˜I what? Oh no. My arm. It’s gone. It’s gone! !
    NOOOOOOOOO!’
    He fell to his knees.
    â€˜It must have been … no, it couldn’t have, but how else? Yes. Let this be a lesson to you, old man. Never ever tease a lion by waving a large piece of meat under its nose. Those things move fast! This is a tragedy, but I thank you for bringing it to my attention.’
    He stood up again and grinned at Sir Mountable. The old man grunted and moved away from the bench to sit at the table.
    â€˜Not many one-armed knights around when I was a lad.’
    Pete blushed, but was on a roll.
    â€˜Perhaps not, but perhaps there were not many roads either, and