Eight months had passed since Robert's accident and the Knights whereunto the second month of their North American tour, promoting their album, 'Memories of Daze Gone By'.

The band was in their dressing room, preparing for the first of two dates in Toronto. A crowd of nearly 15,000 were waiting for the band to take to the stage.

Bob Rollins, their tour manager, walked into the band's dressing room. The band was calm, as usual, doing their pre-show routines. All except Robert. He was nervously pacing back and forth across the floor of the dressing room, a cigarette in one hand and a scotch in the other. Beads of sweat could be seen on his forehead and his silk shirt was showing signs of over perspiration.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't know," Robert snapped, as he finished his drink. He was shaking so bad that the glass fell from his hand and shattered on the floor.

"Fuck," he swore, as he knelt down to clean it up.

Bob grabbed him.

"I'll do that. You go and sit, man. You look like shit."

As Bob swept up the glass, Robert went to a table at the far end of the dressing room and quickly poured another drink. He raised it to his mouth, but his shaking hand only allowed half of the scotch to actually get into his mouth. The rest poured down his chin and over his shirt.

"Fuck," Robert swore again, jumping backward, hitting the table and knocking everything on the floor, smashing glasses and bottles.

Phil and Terry James both ran to Robert and grabbed an arm, steadying him.

"Come on, Rob, you better sit down," Terry suggested, a worried look on his face.

Robert broke free of their hold.

"No. Just leave me the fuck alone." He hurried across the dressing room and into a bathroom at the far end.

Bob walked to Phil.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Phil shook his head.

"I don't know. This is not like Robert."

"Can he play?"

Phil gave him a strange look.

"Play? He can't even hold on to a guitar pick, let alone chord any songs."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Bart Brake, the band's manager walked in.

"They will be introducing you guys in a couple minutes. We got another full house out there. So lets give them hell tonight. This is a big concert."

Phil was shaking his head.

"We can't go on."

"What?"

Bart slammed the door behind him.

"What the hell are you talking about? Can't go on? 

You got a full house out there."

"Its Robert. He's a mess. There is no way he can go on."

Bart looked pass Phil.

"He looks fine to me."

Phil turned to see Robert walking toward him. He had changed his clothing and there were no signs of the nervousness that was so evident, just a few minutes before.

"So? Tell me again why he can't go on?" Bart wondered.

Phil was shocked.

"But ..."

Robert hugged his brother.

"I'm okay, bro."

He looked at the others in the band.

"Come on guys. Let's tear the shit out of Toronto."

Robert opened the door and walked outside.

The others let out little screams of encouragement and followed him.

Bart looked at Phil.

"Well?"

"Oh shut up."

He left to join the others.

As they waited in the wings for their introduction, Phil took a long look at his brother. He was certainly acting very strange. He had never know Robert to show any signs of stage fright or for that matter any signs of nervousness, in his life. He was always the confident one.

He was the coolest member of the band. The most outspoken one of the group. The leader, the strong one, but tonight ...

Phil just couldn't understand.

The MC's voice echoed through the arena.

"And now ...

What you have been waiting for ...

They are filling radio station airwaves ...

They are the number one selling music act in the world ...

Three number one singles ...

The number one album in the world ...

The number one band in the world ...

Ladies and gentlemen ...

The KNNNIIIIIIGGGGHHHHTTTTSSSS."

The crowd was ecstatic. The noise so loud that it drowned out the music as the band jumped into their song, 'Knights in Shining Armour'.

This pushed the band to new heights, including the two brothers, Phil and Robert, who never played better. Though now from a more safe distance apart.

The band poured everything into their old classics, such as, 'Lord of the Tigers', 'Lady Whisper', 'The End of Destruction', 'Blame Me' and 'Iron Castle'.

The band never sounded better. There was a new height to Glen Barker's vocals. Terry James was playing with a desire that the band had never seen, while his backbeat partner, Robert Hofner was bringing sounds from his bass that no one had heard before.

But the hi-light of every song was the guitar playing of the Bowman brothers. Phil was at the top of his game, but Robert had found some new inner energy.

Robert was simply astonishing. As if by some magic, his guitar playing had improved far beyond that of his brother's. He was emerging as the true lead guitarist of the band.

He was playing with a conviction that was even beyond his usual confidence.

Phil had joked to him that his new confidence was the huge rubber backed oriental style rug that covered the right side of the stage. Robert did not stray from the rug.

But it was more than that. It was something almost unearthly.

The song, 'Wings of Life', signalled the end of the first portion of the show. The band members all took a bow and left the stage, except for Robert.