“Thank you, Mom,” he grinned. “Did you call me Bedivere because I had to go to bed?”
“No,” Mom smiled. “I called you Bedivere because you braved all manner of dragons to go to the rescue of the weak and the helpless.”
“Oh,” said Billy. “You mean a knight that rides on a white horse.”
“Yes, one of King Arthur’s knights. You did a fine and brave deed tonight Billy, but do you realize that you might have been hurt out there in the storm? And besides, you almost frightened the wits out of poor James.”
“Yes, Mom,” said Billy. “I’m sorry.”
She kissed him and picked up the candle. “Billy,” she said. “Remember the weak and the helpless, and remember to use your head.”
“Yes, Mom,” said Billy again, and he said it sleepily. The candlelight went down, down, down the stairs, and Mom’s shadow walked beside her. Then it was dark, and there was only the rain on the roof and the wind under the eaves. Billy reached out and felt the little rabbits. They were quiet and warm.
“Good night, little guys,” he said, and turned over to go to sleep, but there was a small figure beside his bed.
“Billy,” whispered Davey. “Move over. I want to sleep with you. I’m scared.”
“All right,” said Billy, rolling over to make room for him. “Come on in. I’m Bedivere. I’ll protect you.”