Having successfully traveled in time back to Arthurian England, the Midnight Man struggles to get his bearings…
Midnight Man — Greatest Vigilante in the World — protects civilization from predators both human and cosmic. From deep within his hidden Midnight Cave, he strikes out against all things evil, and always before they strike first. He is a Shadowy Paladin who instills fear in the hearts of all those who wish to do injustice to others.
More myth than man, the ultimate realization of humankind, he is the only thing that stands between us and the darkness…because, Midnight Man is DARKER than the darkness…
Chapter 2: Ancient Britain
Midnight Man was seized by a desperate thirst. He found beneath him on the muddy ground a silvery puddle, and he bent and drank. The satisfaction was almost blasphemous. He exhaled deeply and looked around him, but his eyes had a hard time computing what he was seeing. Where was he?
Verdant clumps of hills etched the horizon. The whole world seemed wet and damp. The sky was bloated with ashen clouds. It could only be Britain.
His hands involuntarily jumped to his face. He had no mask! Although, if he had been catapulted backwards through time — as it seemed he had — no one was going to recognize Bryce Dayne. Or Midnight Man. No — the real problem was that he was also without his suit, his Midnight Utility Belt, his cape, his Nightarangs, his Nightcomputer — everything. He was as naked as the day he was born, and sitting in mud.
A chill prickled across his skin and his mind. Finding clothes must be his first priority. No matter what time you were in, people covered their nudity.
Where was Merlin?
The Midnight Man stood. The muddy ground was slithering beneath his feet. He was feeling sick from the time travel — it felt like the Earth and Sky could switch places at any moment.
Which direction should he go? All avenues looked the same. He could tell by the shameful slice of sun behind a stack of clouds that it was midday, which didn’t help.
Midnight Man decided to head in the direction in which the cliffs looked the steepest, to challenge himself. He started walking; his suspicious eyes searched around him as he made his way through the strange landscape. It was almost like a rebirth, naked as he was, in a new, unknown time. He didn’t need a mask here — not yet at least. His face was alien to all, in all directions. Bryce Dayne, The Midnight Man — both figments here.
But how could he not be himself?
As he reached the peak of a small hill, he looked below and spotted a small beach that opened into an inlet. A camp was set up, and a small fire was burning. There was the boisterous laughter of men. About ten of them, clad in tough leather bodices over ragged tunics. Longswords hung at their hips or sat near them, as they used their daggers to pick their teeth.
“Arthur won’t know what hit him.” The men laughed.
“He and his knights are in for a shock,” said another.
So he was in Ancient Britain, in the time of Arthurian Legend. Strange, but he had experienced stranger things. Midnight Man decided to climb down the hill, hoping his obvious defenselessness would make these men less likely to try to kill him. About halfway down, he was spotted by a sentry, who yelled out for the others. A few armored men jumped on horseback and rode up the hill.
“Friend or foe?” They bellowed.
“I am foe to no one here,” said Midnight Man, raising his arms over his head.
One of the men — a blond, mustached figure with broad shoulders and a scar over his left eye — laughed. “No,” he said to the Midnight Man, “I don’t think you are foe to anyone in your state.” He turned to the others. “Except to a virgin on her wedding night!”
The men laughed nervously. Despite the ridiculousness of the Midnight Man’s plight, they were still on edge.
“Tell me,” said the blond man, “why I shouldn’t run you through or chop off your head and feed your genitals to my dogs.”
Moving imperceptibly, Midnight Man faked slipping in the mud. His naked body slid down the hill until coming to a stop on the bottom. The men laughed, some holding their bellies. His foil had worked. They thought he was an imbecile.
“Well,” said the blond man, “You are either madman or spirit, and I have cautious respect for both things! Come, get up, we will give you clothing and supper. But should you think us prey, I will mix your blood with the earth in a quick way.”
“Thank you,” said the Midnight Man. He followed them to the camp, where one of them handed him a rag to wipe off the mud, and another handed him a green tunic that looked like multiple people had died in it.
“I am Sir Affelette,” said the blond knight. “And we have no boots to spare. These…” he points at the other knights, “…are my men.”
“Why are you camped here?” Midnight Man asked.
“That is our business,” said another knight, who looked like a younger version of Affelette, with redder hair and less mustache.
“Yes, Korone,” said Affelete, “But should our guest be curious and unknowledgeable about who we are, the safer he must be.” Affelete turned to the Midnight Man. “We serve Mordred, the new lord of this land, who will destroy the usurper, Arthur.”
“Mordred?” Midnight Man repeated. He knew the legend that Mordred was King Arthur’s bastard son, begot by his sister, Morgan Le Fay — and Arthur’s mortal enemy.
“Yes, Mordred,” said Affelete. “Have you heard of him?”
“I have heard he is strong and brave,” Midnight Man said.
“Yes, he is strong, and brave,” said Korone. “We have taken Camelot. It is ours.”
“And Arthur?” Midnight Man said.
“Away in France,” said Affelette. “But he will return soon, so we are waiting.”
“I see,” said Midnight Man.
“Are you a servant of Arthur?” asked the fiery Korone. “If so, we should bless you with a sword in your belly.”
“The only blessing I desire is for some boots,” said Midnight Man, hoping to disarm them with humor. His toes were cold.
They did laugh. “Yes,” said Affelette. “I can see you are a peasant with a strange accent. If you are not mad, then you are at least stupid. My cruelty is reserved for the Round Table, not for unlucky slops like you.”
“You have my gratitude,” said Midnight Man.
“We have your life,” said Korone, threateningly. “If you are lucky, we will give it back to you.”
