Downtown Knights-II

As the morning sun ascended, Jacob's feet traced a familiar bricked path surrounded by green lawn grass and well-trimmed hedges. The early birds were chirruping, as though welcoming him back home. 

For a moment Jacob halted. The serenity and purity of the morning in this house was captivating. The cool air drifted around him and he sighed. He could literally see his young self, training hard early in the morning in this very courtyard. His mentor standing observant.

Taking another step, Jacob dispelled all the forlorn memories. The closed main door welcomed him. He jabbed the code he remembered so well and the door got unlocked. 

The stale air of the room was something new. The curtains were drawn, making it dark inside. The only light flushing in came from the door behind Jacob. His eyes darted around, observant and alert.

He walked through and reached the inner lobby. Everything was dark and stifled. The house seemed as though it hadn't been cleaned for several days. The faint scent of withered petals suggested that the casket must have been presented here for the mourners before taken out to the cemetery.

Sounds of turning pages caught Jacob's attention. He walked in its direction and entered the study room. Sir Lawrence could be found punctually reading books there; taking notes often. The room smelled like him, along the vintage books. Jacob halted at the sight of the person sitting at Sir Lawrence's table. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat; as though he had missed a step of a stairway. This person looked just like Sir Lawrence!

But the next moment filled Jacob with fury so great he trembled before forcing himself to calm down.

"Loid…" He growled.

Loid looked up and stared at Jacob almost absently. But then his gaze focused.

"Oh." He uttered.

There was silence between the two. Jacob could not hold it in for long. He snarled through clenched teeth, "What are you doing?"

Loid's eyebrows arose. The creases on his forehead resembled his father's; along other things. Almost all the things.

"I'm finishing the book father hadn't been able to." Loid said, looking down at the book again and turning a page.

"What. Are. You. Doing?!" Jacob roared. "Sitting in his chair, using his desk; even wearing his damn clothes, you rascal!"

"I need…" Loid uttered, seemingly catching his breath, choking back tears. Jacob wouldn't believe it. The study room was rather dark to see clearly anyway. 

The wooden feet of the chair grated against the stone floor as Loid arose, fixing his clothes and putting down the glasses. Sir Lawrence's glasses.

"I suppose mourning has to end now." Loid spoke, closing the book and putting it to a bookshelf. "It is nice to see you too, brother."

"Don't call me that!" Jacob shouted, taking several steps and grabbing a fistful of the white shirt Loid was wearing. "You are no brother of mine. You… You are the reason Sir Lawrence is dead! And here you are, pretending to be him? Sick freak, you're the one who should have died!"

Another moment of silence. 

"I am the reason he's dead…" Loid murmured, "You're right…It should have been me instead. Should have been me."

"Damn right you are…!" Jacob released the shirt, pushing Loid a step back.

"But father must have been glad for the way things ended up," Loid said, setting fire to the charge. "Children should bury the parents, not the other way around."

"…Children like you should not even be born." Jacob spat. Then he reached in his sling bag, pulling out something and shoving it at Loid's chest. "Come outside," he growled as the thing dropped to the floor, and marched out.

Loid stared at the pair of boxing gloves lying next to his feet. Memories rushing.

---

Jacob finished his stretches and warmed up for the bloodbath. Sir Lawrence would approve of this. This was how Jacob and Loid always used to settle their squabbles disputes. He heard Loid shuffling into the lawn and turned to find him sober. Loid still wore his father's clothes but his previously combed hair had been rustled, giving him a wild look. Like a tiger barely restrained. He was awake; his usual self. Jacob nodded. Now this was the man he wanted to punch to death.

Loid strapped tight the blue glove by his teeth and locked gaze with Jacob, no longer looking away. 

"They shot him in the back." He mentioned. 

Blood rushed to Jacob's face. His hatred for Loid evident. 

"And you WATCHED!" He growled, lunging.

---

The sun had begun to set. Jacob and Loid were still fighting; pushing their tired bodies beyond limits. Jacob spat blood and stumbled; heaving heavily. His handsome dark face now purple and swollen. And Loid no longer resembled his father. It seemed as though he had been attacked by wasps.

Blood was splattered everywhere as the two men bled from their faces.

"You…done?" Loid huffed; rocking side to side; struggling to keep his feet planted to the ground.

"Not by a…long shot." Jacob spluttered before holding his footing. He fared much better than Loid. Years of military service had made him tougher than ever. Though he had to admit Loid still gave him as good a fight as ever. There was never a way of knowing which one of the two would win a bout.

Loid coughed and slumped down; giving up. He panted heavily; his vision darkening at times.

"How much do you know?" He asked Jacob who wouldn't budge from his spot. Unwilling to show weakness; unable to make another move.

"There was a street fight. He was shot dead. You were arrested but released post interrogation. The murderers are at large." Jacob replied. This was all the information he had obtained. This was all he needed to conclude that it was all Loid's fault. Loid was there. He was supposed to save Sir Lawrence. He was supposed to die in his place otherwise anyway. The whole street fight would not have happened if not for Loid and his menacing thug ways; Jacob was certain.

"It wasn't…" Loid coughed. "It wasn't a street fight. It was an execution. They came for him. Surrounded him. Killed him before I could do a thing. I tried to take the bullets for him. You know I would! How could I not? But I was a bit too late. And they struck my head with a gun. The last thing I saw was him…falling…and then they shot him on the back several times whilst I lost consciousness."

"Who were they?" Jacob growled. "Why did they come for him?"

"Cartel bastards. I heard father was in their way; trying to get them apprehended. He fought them on several avenues. Rescued the downtown girls; protected the local stores; saved the kids." Loid said, "He was gone day and night for weeks; running watch patrols, staying in touch with the cops, pulling contacts from politicians; trying to get the downtown rid of the cartel at the least. He hadn't slept for several nights… I made fun of him once, calling him a vigilante."

"Why weren't you out running patrols with him?" Jacob accused.

"I did things my own way." Loid said and Jacob snorted. "Asked the boys to keep an eye out; established an information network. Father should have made use of the technology.

"I heard the cartel was making a move. I went after father to warn. I was late. I tried my best. Boys were on the way too. We could have made it. We should have made." Loid released a shaky breath.

"But you didn't make it." Jacob spat.

"We didn't."

Jacob started towards the gate, "I'll kill you another day," he said over his shoulder.

"The boys are in. Almost of them." Loid called out from behind. "I'm starting a gang. Beat iron with iron. You should join us."

Jacob spat blood. "Over a decade of training in knighthood; and you're still hung up on your petty childish ways. You may have inherited everything from Sir Lawrence, but not his knighthood."

"I am my father's son!" Loid challenged.

"You can wear his clothes, live in his house, read his books, wield his sword…but you'll still be just a downtown gangster." Jacob said and walked.

"Your army pals aren't here Jacob. You cannot take the cartel on your own." Loid warned. "Join us. We will raid together; we will avenge Sir Lawrence together. We are his sons. We are brothers."

"Don't think I can't see past your façade." Jacob turned, "I know what you are underneath all that pretense. Just a thug. A nasty little thug. Everything is an excuse for you to let loose and rampage."

"I know." Loid snorted once. "Why do you think I surround myself in my father's things? I need it all. I need his presence; to contain me; to restrain me; to guide me… Because if I really let loose and rampage…this town will burn."

"I will kill you before you do that." Jacob promised.

"I'll hold you to your word." Loid demanded.

Jacob turned and walked away. He was sick of Loid. He had work to do. Men to hunt down. Blood to spill. A father to avenge. And if needed; a brother to kill.