Blue Moon Rising Page 10

  “You’ll never be that lucky,” grinned the Champion, moving forward. His eyes were cold and hard and full of death.

  “Enough!” roared the King, surging to his feet. “Sir Champion, sheathe your sword. That’s an order! Guards, return to your places; I’m in no danger.”

  The Champion looked at the King a moment, and then sheathed his sword, his face calm and expressionless. The guards moved reluctantly back to their positions, and the King sank back on to his throne.

  “Rupert, Julia; please put down your swords,” said King John evenly, his eyes darting from one to the other. “You are under my protection in this Court, and you have my word you will come to no harm here.”

  Julia glanced at Rupert, who nodded slowly. They sheathed their swords, and everybody relaxed a little. A small knot of courtiers gathered around the feebly groaning Lord Darius.

  “Somebody help the Minister for War back to his chambers,” said the King, and two of the courtiers half led, half carried Darius away. The King hid a smile behind a raised hand, and leaned back in his throne. “Now, Rupert …”

  “No, no, and no,” said Rupert firmly. “No, I will not lead an army into the Darkwood to fight the demons. No, I will not lead a diplomatic party to talk to the demons. And no, I don’t have any sense of duty or honour. I think that covers everything.”

  Julia nodded solemnly.

  “Rupert, I assure you—” King John began, but Rupert cut in quickly, knowing that if he started being reasonable now, he was lost.

  “Forget it. I don’t care what you’ve got lined up for me, the answer’s no. I’ve done my bit; let somebody else put their head on the block for a change.”

  “Rupert, if there was anybody else …”

  “There is—Harald.”

  His brother looked up from idly buffing his nails, and shook his head amiably. “Afraid not, dear boy; I’m needed here. Sorry.”

  “Blow it out your ear, Harald.”

  There was a slight pause, as everyone pretended not to have heard that.

  “Rupert,” said King John firmly, “I quite agree that you’ve earned a rest. Unfortunately, the task I have for you is both urgent and vital, and it cannot wait. Tomorrow morning—”

  “Tomorrow morning.” shrieked Rupert. “I’ve only just got back! I don’t believe this. I just do not believe it. I’ve been back in the Castle less than an hour, and already you’re trying to get rid of me again. What’s the bloody rush?”

  “We’re running out of time,” said Thomas Grey. “There’s a Blue Moon rising.”

  Dark murmurs rustled through the Court as the young Prince stared blankly at the Astrologer.

  “There hasn’t been a Blue Moon for centuries,” said Rupert slowly, and then a dim memory came flooding back to him, and his eyes widened. “Wait a minute—according to some legends, the first time a Blue Moon rose, the Darkwood was born …”

  The astrologer nodded grimly. “Once in a Blue Moon, magic is loosed in the world. Wild Magic, to create or destroy, strong enough to reshape reality itself on the night the Blue Moon is full. We have seven months until that night; seven months in which to find an answer to the darkness. If we fail, the Darkwood will spread over all that is. Civilisation will fall, the long night will have no ending, and the world will belong to the demons.”

  For a long while the Court stood silent, shaken by the Astrologer’s dark vision.

  “There must be something we can do,” said Rupert haltingly.

  “There is,” said the Astrologer. “Prince Rupert, you must journey to the Dark Tower, and there summon the High Warlock.”

  Rupert stared at the Astrologer.

  “I should have volunteered to lead an army against the Demon Prince,” he said finally. “It would have been safer.”

  “But you’ll do it,” said King John.

  “Of course,” said Rupert bitterly. “You knew that before I came in here.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Julia, moving quickly forward to stand between Rupert and the King. “What’s going on here? Rupert, who is this High Warlock?”

  “A sorcerer,” said Rupert shortly. “Very powerful, and very deadly. Exiled years ago. He doesn’t take kindly to visitors.”

  “You don’t have to go,” said Julia, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “You’ve done enough.”

  “No,” said Rupert tiredly. “Father’s right, there is no one else … they can spare.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  “Oh I say,” said Harald. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

  “Shut your face, creep,” said Julia. Harald gaped at her, and the courtiers had a coughing fit. Julia ignored them, her eyes pleading with Rupert as he slowly shook his head.

  “I can’t take you with me, Julia. Not to the Dark Tower. There’s no one I’d rather have to guard my back, you know that, but I can’t let you risk your life for me again. I’ve no right. You’ll be safe here… as long as you keep Harald at arm’s length.”

  “But—”

  “No, Julia.” Rupert met her gaze unyieldingly, and she looked away.

  “It’s not far,” she said quietly.

  “No,” said Rupert. “It isn’t.” He turned to the King, who studied him narrowly.

  “Well, Rupert, it seems you and the Princess Julia have grown somewhat fond of each other.”

  “Yes,” said Rupert.

  “She’s promised to Harald,” said King John. “The contract was signed long ago.”

  “I know my duty,” said Rupert. “I’ve always known my duty. That’s the only reason I’m going on this mission. And what’s more, if I’ve got to go calling on the High Warlock, I want a full troop of guards to back me up.”

  “They’ll be ready for you first thing tomorrow morning,” said the King.

  “And I want the Champion to lead them …” said Rupert.

  “An honour to ride at your side, Sire,” said the Champion.

  “… under my orders,” said Rupert.

  The King hesitated, and then nodded. “It’s your expedition, Rupert. But I strongly suggest you listen to the Champion’s advice at all times.”

  “As long as it is advice,” said Rupert.

  “Of course, Sire,” said the Champion, bowing.

  He’s calling me ‘Sire’ again, thought Rupert dourly. Things must really be desperate.

  “All right,” he sighed finally. “Sir Champion, we start at first light tomorrow. Though how we’re going to persuade the High Warlock to come back with us I don’t know.”

  “He’s our only hope,” said the Astrologer.

  “Then you’d better start making white flags,” growled Rupert.

  “I don’t see any need for further discussion,” said the King hastily. “Court is dismissed!”

  The courtiers filed slowly out, chattering animatedly as they headed for the gap where the double doors used to be. Rupert turned to Julia, who turned her back on him.

  “Julia…”

  “We should never have come back to the Castle, Rupert.”

  “I did what I thought was best.”

  “I know,” said Julia tiredly. “It’s not your fault.”

  Rupert took her gently by the arm and turned her round to face him. “Julia, I didn’t save you from the demons just to lose you to my brother. Now let’s get out of here. I’m tired, and I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”

  Julia studied him a moment, and then smiled reluctantly. “It has been a long day, hasn’t it? Let’s go.”

  “Excuse me,” said Harald, moving elegantly forward to block their way, “but if anyone is to escort the Princess Julia to her chambers, it should be me. I mean to say, dammit, she is my fiancée.”

  “Harald,” said Rupert calmly, “I am not in the mood for this kind of nonsense. I rarely am in the mood, and take it from me, right now I am less in the mood than ever before, if that’s possible. So get out of my way or I’ll feed you a knuckle sandwich. Even worse, I might let Julia do it.”<
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  Harald looked at Julia thoughtfully. She smiled sweetly at him, and let her hand rest casually on the pommel of her sword. Harald bowed to her, and then smiled politely at Rupert.

  “How brave you’ve grown, Rupert, now you’ve a dragon to back you up. Assuming you survive your journey to the Dark Tower, do hurry back; I want you to be best man at my wedding.” He grinned as Rupert flushed angrily. “I thought you’d like that, Rupert. I’ll see you tomorrow, Julia; we have so much to … discuss.”

  He stepped back, bowed to them both, and swept majestically out of the Court. Rupert and Julia watched him go.

  “Nice brother you’ve got there,” said Julia. “Really knows how to twist the knife.”

  “Yes,” said Rupert. “Still, we mustn’t be too hard on him. He hasn’t got long to live.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because one of these days I’m going to kill him.”

  Julia chuckled earthily. “Can I help?”

  They laughed together, and then went to awaken the sleeping dragon. Rupert called to him, yelled in his ear, and even rapped on the creature’s bony forehead with his fist, but the two thin plumes of smoke rising from the dragon’s nostrils didn’t even waver. Rupert sighed, walked round to the rear of the dragon, took careful aim, and delivered a mighty kick. The dragon slowly opened his eyes, and Rupert jumped up and down for a while holding his foot in both hands. The dragon rose grumpily to his feet and peered blearily around him.

  “Julia, where is everybody?”

  “They’ve all left.”

  “Pity, I was just starting to feel a little peckish. Why is Rupert hopping up and down and muttering to himself?”

  “I think it’s some kind of folk dance,” said Julia solemnly.

  “Oh,” said the dragon doubtfully. He studied Rupert carefully, and then looked away. “Where’s the unicorn?”

  “Hiding,” said a melancholy voice from behind a hanging arras. “Every time Rupert has to speak to his family he ends up in a foul temper, and he takes it out on me.”

  “Get out of there, unicorn,” snapped Rupert, hobbling over to lean on Julia.

  “See what I mean?” said the unicorn, emerging cautiously from behind the tapestry. “If you’ve run out of people to upset, Sire, could we perhaps go now? In case it slipped your attention, we haven’t eaten since first thing this morning, and my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”

  “Of course,” said Rupert. “I’ll get you all the grass you can eat.”

  “Oh, whoopee,” said the unicorn.

  They headed for the shattered doorway, Rupert still leaning companionably on Julia.

  “Just my luck,” muttered the unicorn.

  “What?” asked Rupert.

  “All that effort I put into practising my limp, and nobody even mentioned it.”

  Rupert and Julia looked at each other, spluttered with laughter, and led the dragon and the no-longer-limping unicorn out of the Court.

  King John watched the last of the dragon’s tail slither out of the doorway, and then he sighed wearily and sank back in his throne. Thomas Grey lowered himself cautiously on to the steps leading up to the throne. His knees cracked loudly as he sat down. Both King and Astrologer looked suddenly older.

  “Doesn’t the Court seem larger without Rupert’s friends in it,” said the King.

  Grey laughed. “Not to mention quieter.”

  “I like Julia,” said the King. “She’s got spirit. And Rupert seems to have developed a powerful right hand.”

  “At least he got that idiot Darius off our backs for a while.”

  “Quite,” growled the King. “That’s what you get for making Ministerships hereditary.”

  “Not one of my better ideas,” Grey admitted. He yawned widely.

  “Don’t,” said the King. “You’ll start me off, and there’s work to be done yet. At least, I assume there is.”

  “I’m afraid so,” said Grey. “To start with, we’ve got to change all the arrangements for Harald’s wedding.”

  King John closed his eyes and groaned loudly. “As if they weren’t costing enough already.”

  “And we’ve got to work out some way of politely informing Baron Oakeshoff that Harald isn’t going to many his daughter after all.”

  “Pity about that,” said the King. “Now the Barons will be more trouble than ever. Have we had any taxes from them yet?”

  “Not a penny,” said the Astrologer. “They’re not going to pay up as long as they think they can get away with it, and we can’t use the Royal Guard to persuade them until the demons stop attacking us.”

  “And the Champion expects them to give me an army,” sighed the King.

  “Politics never was his strong point.”

  “He’s loyal to the throne,” said King John. “That’s why I made him Champion. Do you know, Thomas, after all these years he still makes me nervous. There’s something almost inhuman about a loyalty that’s never questioned. He’s killed over a hundred men at my command, and never once asked why.”

  “When a Champion starts asking questions, it’s time to get a new Champion,” said Grey dryly.

  The King laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. “Life wasn’t always this complicated. Do you remember when I first came to the throne, Thomas?”

  “Aye, John, must be all of thirty-five years since the High Warlock placed that crown on your head. In those days there was still gold in the coffers, the Barons knew their place, and the Darkwood was just a patch of ink on the maps, little more than a legend.”

  “A long time ago, Thomas.” The King tugged pensively at his straggling grey beard. “Where did it all start to go wrong? I’ve done my best down the years, but for every problem I solved two more sprang up to take its place. When I came to power the Forest Kingdom was a rich land, a healthy land; a power to be reckoned with. We had such plans, you and I … Now look at us; two old men fighting our own barons just to hold the Land together.

  “We’re all that’s left of the old order, Thomas. On the day I was crowned, a hundred and fifty knights bent their knees and made the oath of fealty to me. Where are they now? Dead and gone, all of them, lost in one stupid little war or another. All my brave knights … Now chivalry is no longer fashionable, and honour is a thing of the past. Times change, and I’ve lost the ability to change with them.

  “It’s been so long since I could rest, Thomas. So long since I could sleep at night without my troubles invading my dreams. So long since my poor Eleanor died …”

  Grey leaned back against the King’s leg, and they sat quietly together a while; two old friends, remembering happier days.

  Shadows filled the Court as night slowly fell. King John stared out across the vast, empty hall with its wood-panelled walls and soaring rafters, and ghosts came to stand before him in their shining armour, swords held aloft as they silently roared their loyalty to the throne. All the heroes of his Realm, the questors and champions, the stalkers and avengers of evil, dead and gone down the many years. King John sat staring at an empty Court, and one by one the ghosts left him, until all that remained was his throne, and his Kingdom.

  “You know,” said King John finally. “It’s not so much making bad decisions that bothers me; it’s just that I spend days on end weighing up the pros and cons, and I still make the wrong decision!”

  The Astrologer chuckled quietly. “That’s why you keep me around, John. I may not be the High Warlock, but my small magics do come in handy now and again.”

  “Indeed they do, Thomas.” The King ruffled the Astrologer’s hair affectionately. “What would I do without you?”

  They sat together in companionable silence, the King’s brooding eyes fixed on yesterday.

  “Fifty-five isn’t old,” he said suddenly. “I’m not as young as I was, but I don’t feel old.”

  “Time catches up with all of us eventually,” said the Astrologer.

  “You seem to be putting up a good fight,” said the King tar
tly. “Look at you—your back’s as straight and your hair as dark as it was forty years ago.”

  “I dye my hair.”

  “And you wear a corset.”

  “Only sometimes.”

  “Only when you’re chasing a new wench.” The King chuckled evilly. “Man your age should have more dignity.”

  “Every man should have a hobby,” said the Astrologer complacently.

  The King laughed, but his habitual frown soon returned. “What is the matter with the Barons anyway? They’ve never been this bad before.”

  “It’s the Darkwood, John. Our wealth comes from mines run by the Barons; it’s their gold and silver and copper that keeps our economy afloat. But since the Darkwood has spread its boundaries, more and more of the mines have fallen to the long night. Demons are crawling up out of the pits and spilling into the main workings. Miners are afraid to go down into the dark. Some mines have had to be sealed, for fear of what might emerge from the deepest shafts.”

  The King scowled thoughtfully. “I hadn’t realised things had got so out of hand.”

  “You can’t be expected to keep track of everything, John.”

  “Perhaps if I sent the Barons more guards …”

  “No, John, we can’t afford to lose any more men. We’re thinly enough spread as it is. We can’t really spare that troop of guards you’re sending with the Champion and young Rupert.”

  “I know,” said the King, “but if we didn’t let Rupert have them, I really think he wouldn’t go.”

  “Yes,” smiled the Astrologer. “He’s finally learning …”

  They shared a smile, and then the King frowned again, and looked away.

  “They’d better bring back the High Warlock,” he said softly. “After the mess we’ve made of things, he’s our only hope.”

  Chapter Three

  DUELS

  Thin trails of mist curled lazily on the chill morning air as Rupert saddled his unicorn in the courtyard. The dawn sun had barely crept above the horizon, and the sky was still splashed with blood. Not the best of omens for the journey ahead. Rupert grinned tiredly, and then leaned briefly against the patiently waiting unicorn as a yawn stretched his jaw to its limit. According to the water clock he’d had almost six hours’ sleep, but it seemed he’d barely laid his head on the pillow before a servant was shaking him awake.