Peter Hunter smiled as his students hurriedly filed from the class room. He could certainly understand their enthusiasm - he'd had a long week himself and was anxious to return to his flat. He was getting more and more tired these days - perhaps the longevity granted him by the power of Albion was actually beginning to fade. The terrible dreams that had been haunting his sleep hadn't helped either, he knew.
His mind's eye drifted over the remarkable events of his life, replaying the day just prior to the first World War when he'd been possessed by the mystical power of the Pendragon. The power had allowed him to become Albion, one of Britain's greatest heroes during the Great War. When the war was over, however, the power faded - leaving only his youthfulness as the only reminder that, once, he'd been more than a simple history teacher.
And then the power had returned. It had been only a few years ago that Hunter had felt the call to action once more - the Bane-Pendragon War*had led him to once again don his crimson and white tights and take the name Albion. In that guise he'd fought alongside the Knights of Pendragon and had eventually taken the Good Fight to other worlds beside the earth of his birth.
* (see various issues of both series' of Knights Of Pendragon - Barry)
Peter stepped out of the classroom, slowing drawing the door to a close behind him. He had only recently returned from Earth 313 in the company of Gawain and Breeze,* and he'd once again reassumed his teaching post, now pretending to his own grandson, much to his own chagrin. It felt good to be back in the institutional setting, away from the horrors of the Bane. He almost felt normal again...
* (check out Knights Of Pendragon (2nd series) for more on this - Barry)
As he walked across the campus lawn, he felt more than heard the flurry of wings behind him. A chill wind sent goosebumps down his back and he heard, almost as if in a long-forgotten whisper, the single word "Albion".
He turned, knowing full well what he would see. The sky seemed to be blotted out by a conclave of owls. The birds flew towards him, their beaks opened wide - amidst their hoots, he could hear the word "Albion" gaining strength. Peter Hunter looked about himself wildly, making sure that none of his students or fellow professors were watching. There were none present - in fact, the campus looked deserted and eerie.
The owls suddenly surrounded him, their feathers and claws raking his flesh. In that moment, he felt both fear and exhiliration - fear because he knew that his life was once more about to be turned upside down and exhiliration for the same.
A second later and he was gone, transported from the Earthly realm. He opened his eyes and stared about himself. Even before he did so, he knew where he was. Summoning by owls was only one of many ways that a Knight of Pendragon could reach Avalon.
Avalon... the other-dimensional realm that was home to all that remained of Arthur's Camelot and all it had stood for...
Avalon... former home of the Knights of Pendragon...
Avalon... where both the Green Man and the Lady of the Lake still lived...
Hunter looked down at himself and saw that he was clad in his Albion costume. He grunted and began to move forward, expecting to find his fellow Knights of Pendragon about. Instead, he found himself staring face-to-face with the Black Knight.
"Dane... It's nice to see you again. It might have been nice if you'd just picked up the telephone though..."
The Black Knight's tense reply made Hunter regret the joke. It was obvious that the Knight meant business. "Peter... Breeze is dead.* I felt her die and I think I know who's responsible..."
* (Breeze was murdered by the Parliament of the Dark last issue - Barry)
Albion's heart dropped... The dreams, the scattered images of which had haunted him long after he had awoken - he understood them now. "I can't believe it - who did it? The Red Lord? Agents of the Bane?"
The Black Knight shook his head, reaching out to place a hand comfortingly on Albion's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that Mordred's involved somehow - he sent a demon to slay me,* and the Lady of the Lake has warned me that the Knights of Pendragon are at risk."**
* (back in issue #1 - Barry)
** (the Lady of the Lake issued her prophecy last issue - Barry)
"Mordred?! Is he still causing mayhem?"
"Unfortunately - he's seeking to destroy Avalon. I have no idea about Morgan Le Fay's involvement, but I'm willing to bet that she's involved somehow."
Albion sighed, moving away from the Black Knight. He stared off into the distance. "We have to summon the others."
The Black Knight nodded. "I agree - I wanted to start with you first since you have more experience than the rest of the Pendragons. I thought you might want to be the one to tell the rest of the group."
"Yes... I think that it would be easier coming from me. I'll summon the rest of the Knights immediately."
"Good - I'm heading back to Earth for now, but contact me as soon as you've spoken to the others. I want us to formulate a plan of attack - we can't let Mordred dictate the course of this war."
"Agreed... I can't believe that Breeze is dead. I never had the chance to really get to know her intimately but... she was as brave as they come."
The Black Knight set his jaw. He'd seen far too many friends and lovers die, and he certainly empathized with Albion. "Her death won't be in vain, I promise you that. We'll avenge her, Peter."
Albion sighed wearily, feeling an aged ache in his bones. "It won't bring her back, Dane - nothing will."
Dane Whitman knocked on the door, a bottle of wine in his hand. He really wished that he could have put this off, but he'd promised Franklin that he'd attend this dinner. Given the fact that Franklin was the only friend he'd made at Sycorp, Dane certainly didn't want to offend him.
Franklin opened the door, a pleasant smile on his perpetually-harried looking face. "Dane! Glad you could make it - come in, come in."
Dane entered, taking in the nicely furnished home in one sweep of his eyes. "You have a very nice home, Franklin."
"Ha! Not nearly as nice as that castle of yours, I'd wager. Honestly, how you can live alone in that mammoth place is beyond me..."
"Well...the staff lives there, too, and..."
"Dane?"
The female voice brought Dane up short, a sense of recognition dawning on him slowly. He turned to see Miriam Ross, the broker who'd helped him get ownership of Garrett Castle. "Miriam?"
The attractive young woman flushed, obviously pleased that the handsome Dane Whitman had remembered her name. "Yes... I had no idea that you were the bachelor I was being set up with."
Dane felt a smile creep across his face. 'Miriam... Small world,' he mused. "Same here - Franklin said you were attractive and single... I should have put two-and-two together."
Miriam laughed, a soft, flirty sound. "Charmer. I have to admit that I'm pleased - I hate blind dates."
"Same here."
Franklin slapped Dane on the back. "I see you two have already met..."
Dane glanced at him with a wry expression. "I'm pretty sure you knew that beforehand, Franklin. You're displaying a sneaky side to your personality..."
"You can thank me later, Dane..." Franklin winked at his friend, moving out of the room. "You two mingle while I help out in the kitchen."
Miriam's eyes twinkled. "So... have you gotten settled in yet?"
"Let's just say I've been keeping busy..."
Mordred the Evil stared into the crystal ball, his lip curled into a sneer. Avalon... He hated it with all his black heart. It reminded him of his father, Arthur, and all that his contemptible Round Table had stood for.
Mordred reached out a gauntlet and picked up the ball, the image of Avalon remaining unmoved in its surface. "I will break you, Avalon... scatter your defenders to the winds and rape your treasures."
"If you spent half as much time plotting that you do preening, you'd be ruler of the universe, nephew." Morgan Le Fay's sarcastic tone made Mordred clutch the crystal ball so hard that it shattered in his grip.
"Dear Morgan... Do you not have somewhere you could be?" Mordred turned to his face the witch, his eyes blazing with hate. She considered herself his superior and in many ways that was true - but Mordred felt confident he would eclipse her eventually.
"No, I do not. I merely wanted to let you know that your actions are not going unnoticed. The Knights of Pendragon are reassembling to stop you."
Mordred shrugged, "I expected as much. Breeze and Gawain are dead... I don't think the Knights even sensed the destruction of the android.* There will be more deaths to come."
* (Gawain was in fact an android housing the essence of the Knight - Barry)
Morgan sat back in a chair, crossing her elegant legs. "I must admit that I'm impressed with you, nephew. You might actually succeed in causing some true mischief."
"But you don't think I'll win, do you?"
Morgan didn't answer, merely smiling enigmatically. "I know that you won't, dear boy... But where you fail, perhaps Morgan will succeed."
In Black Knight #4: The Battle For Avalon begins! The Knights of Pendragon are assembled, and the villains of the piece make a bold strike!
AUTHOR'S NOTES
First of all, I apologize for the length of this issue. It's significantly shorter than the previous issues, and that's a direct result of my spare time being reduced as of late.
I hope to have next issue back at its more usual level. The debut of the Ebony Knight, originally scheduled for this issue, has been pushed back to #4, but it'll be worth the wait!
Thanks for the patience and understanding,
Barry Reese