Arthur Hood: the Heir of Robin and King

Chapter Twelve

Now with his hood down, the boy glared at everyone sitting around the table. 'Is this some sort of fantasy themed costume party, Mr Scarlett? Or is everyone celebrating Halloween a bit too early?'

The man who had led him into the hall replied, 'It is not.'

'So umm . . . so umm . . . all the magical creatures I'm seeing are real?'

'Indeed they are.'

'Isn't that something.' The boy wasn't too taken aback by it one bit. In fact, he looked rather happy to be seeing giants, centaurs and the lot. 'So is this a gathering of superheroes then?'

'Well, I guess you could say that.'

The boy beamed from ear to ear. 'I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I knew you were a superhero, Mr Scarlett.'

'Who's the boy, Will?' bellowed Amzin. The centaur trotted around the table to get a better look at the young stranger.

'He said he lives in my neighborhood,' Mr Scarlett replied. 'I think I've seen him around. Lives at the other end of the street. I found him hiding on the back of my carriage.'

'Is he a spy?'

Clearly offended, the boy glowered at the centaur and shouted, 'I'm not a spy. And don't you ever say that again.'

'All right, calm down there,' Amzin replied, looking somewhat amused yet taken aback by the fierceness of the boy's reaction. 'You can't be too careful. Especially in these very dark times. Do you have a name?'

The boy was obviously deciding if he should tell, as he started to rub his chin. Eventually, he barked, 'Tell me your name first.'

'My name is Amzin.'

'Mine is John.'

'John?' The centaur showed surprise and so too did everyone else with many murmurs following. 'A little John?'

Mr Scarlett crooked his neck and eyed Amzin with a look of concession. 'It seems so.'

'Hey, it's Little Johnny to you, horseman,' the boy grumbled.

'I meant nothing by it,' said Amzin, not at all hurt by the insult hurled at him. 'Little Johnny it is.'

Little Johnny looked up at Mr Scarlett and asked, 'Can I have my weapon back?'

'I will give it back if you promise not to try and attack me again,' Mr Scarlett answered. 'You really did a number on my foot. It's still throbbing madly.'

'I can't make that promise but I'd still like it back.'

'Very well,' Mr Scarlett huffed in defeat and handed the large stick over to the boy, who spun it around his head before pounding one end into the floor.

'Thank you.' Smiling again, Little Johnny's gaze then drifted over the round table and over to Arthur, who was now up on his feet. 'Hey, I know you. You look exactly like the figurine on Mr Scarlett's table. Arthur Hood, right?'

Mr Scarlett, who had also noticed Arthur and was looking at him with pride yet fear and pity, turned back to Little Johnny and said, 'Now, how would you know that? Unless–'

Little Johnny chuckled nervously. 'I may have snuck into your lair.'

'Is that so? You found the way to get in?'

'I have to say, it wasn't that hard.'

'I hope you didn't touch anything.'

With another nervous chuckle, Little Johnny replied, 'I may have.' Then from his coat, he took out Mr Scarlett's quill, the one that had turned into a lush red feather just like Arthur's.