Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) Read online

  “Not forever,” said Rupert softly, and his hand dropped to the pommel of the rainbow sword. “Every night comes to an end eventually.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Homecoming

  Some two months later, Rupert, Julia, the dragon, and the unicorn were travelling wearily down the long, winding road that led to Rupert’s Castle. Rupert rode his unicorn, while Julia rode on the dragon’s shoulders. The Prince and the Princess both wore leather jerkin and trousers, topped by a thick fur cloak. The weather had turned suddenly cold in the last few months, and a chill wind blew constantly through the Forest.

  “Home is the hero,” said Julia. “Shouldn’t there be a band playing, or something?”

  “The first minstrel I see had better start running,” said Rupert. “I’ve had it with minstrels.”

  The dragon coughed tactfully. “I hate to bring this up, Rupert, but you were sent out on your quest in the hope you’d bring back a dragon’s hoard of gold and gems. Or at the very least, parts of a dead dragon, which are apparently worth almost as much. Instead, you’ve brought back a live dragon, worth not a lot, a Princess without a dowry, and not a single gold coin to show for all your admittedly remarkable adventures.”

  Rupert grinned. “There’s always the rainbow sword.”

  Julia looked at him aghast. “You’re not going to sell it, surely?”

  The Prince shrugged. “The Forest Land needs the money more than I need a magic sword. Royalty has its responsibilities, remember?”

  “I remember,” said Julia. “It’ll be hard, going back to all that nonsense. Back to formal gowns, and etiquette, and Ladies-in-Waiting to stop you doing anything that might be fun.”

  “I’ll be there, too,” Rupert promised.

  Julia smiled. “That’ll help,” she said, and reached down to squeeze his hand briefly.

  Tall, majestic oaks lined the road they travelled, heavy branches ablaze with the bronzed tatters of autumn leaves. It was barely evening, but already the sun was low on the sky. Rupert frowned as the chill breeze stirred the trees; winter looked to be coming early this year. As if the Forest didn’t have enough problems … He shook his head slowly and breathed deeply, savoring the familiar rich scents of wood and leaf and earth that filled the air, telling him he was nearly home. Home. The word roused many memories, few of them happy. Rupert reined the unicorn to a halt, and turned to the dragon.

  “Uh, dragon … I think it might be better if you were to … well …”

  “Make myself scarce for a time?” The dragon smiled, revealing row upon row of pointed teeth. “I understand, Rupert. We don’t want to panic everyone rigid just yet, do we?”

  Rupert grinned back at the dragon. “Quite. They’re going to find it hard enough pretending they’re happy to see me again, without having to cope with you as well.”

  “Fair enough,” said the dragon. He crouched down, and waited patiently while Julia carefully dismounted. The dragon then moved unhurriedly off the road, stepped into the surrounding trees, and vanished.

  Rupert’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t know dragons could make themselves invisible.”

  “We can’t,” said a disembodied voice from far back in the trees, “But we’re very good at camouflage. How else do you think we find food? When it comes to sneaking up on things from behind, thirty feet of dragon isn’t exactly inconspicuous, you know.”

  “Fine,” said Rupert. “Fine. I’ll see you later, then, after I’ve had a chance to sort things out with the Court. Oh, and dragon … if you come across any small, fat, stupid-looking birds, don’t eat them. They’re a protected species, by order of the King.”

  “Too late,” said the dragon, indistinctly.

  Rupert shook his head resignedly. “Ah well, it’s about time we thinned out the dodos again.” He turned to Julia, who was waiting impatiently in the middle of the road.

  “If you’ve quite finished,” she said, ominously, “It is getting late …”

  “Oh sure,” said Rupert. “The Castle’s just down the road; we’re almost there.” He hesitated, and then swung down out of the saddle.

  “What are you doing now?” asked Julia.

  “Well,” said Rupert awkwardly, “It’d look rather bad if I came back riding the unicorn while you had to walk. You’d better ride him the rest of the way.”

  “No thanks,” said Julia.

  “I really think it would be better …”

  “No,” said Julia, firmly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t ride a unicorn, that’s why not!”

  Rupert looked at the ground, and scuffed some dirt with his boot.

  “Oh,” he said finally.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means he’s thinking,” said the unicorn. “Always a bad sign.”

  “So I’m not qualified to ride a unicorn,” said Julia. “Big deal.”

  “Unfortunately, around here it is,” said Rupert. “Unicorn; you’ve gone lame.”

  “No, I haven’t,” said the unicorn.

  “Yes, you have,” said Rupert. “That’s why both Julia and I are walking.”

  “I suppose you want me to limp,” said the unicorn.

  “Got it in one,” said Rupert. “And do it convincingly, or I’ll see you’re fed nothing but grass for a month.”

  “Bully,” muttered the unicorn, and walked slowly away, trying out various limps for effect. Rupert and Julia exchanged a smile, and followed him down the road.

  The crowding trees soon gave way to a clearing, a moat, and the Castle. Rupert stopped at the edge of the moat, and frowned at the raised drawbridge; normally, the Castle was only sealed during states of emergency. His frown deepened as he took in the empty battlements, and he mentally reviewed the Forest land they’d passed through since leaving the Darkwood. There couldn’t have been a war or a rebellion, or they’d have seen burnt-out farms, and bodies lying in the fields for the gore crows. Plague? Rupert shivered suddenly as he realized he hadn’t seen a single living soul since his return, but common sense quickly pointed out that at the very least there’d have been sulphur fires burning, and crosses painted on doors.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Julia.

  “I’m not sure.” Rupert peered up at the gatehouse over the Keep. “Ho the gate! Let down the drawbridge!”

  While he waited impatiently for an answer, Julia turned her attention back to the Castle.

  “It’s not very big, is it?” she said finally.

  Rupert smiled wryly. He had to admit that to the casual eye, Forest Castle wasn’t all that impressive. The stonework was cracked and pitted from long exposure to wind and rain, and the tall, crenelated towers had a battered, lopsided look. And yet, somehow the familiar crumbling battlements and ivy-wrapped walls still had the power to stir him deeply. The Castle had stood firm against wars and pestilence, against darkness and decay, guarding his ancestors as they guarded the Land. Fourteen generations of the Forest line had been raised within those walls, fourteen generations of service. Rupert sighed quietly. Sometimes the past seemed heavy on his shoulders. But even though he’d spent most of his young life praying for a chance to escape from the Castle, when all was said and done it was still his home, and he was glad to be back.

  “The Castle’s much more impressive once you get inside,” he assured the Princess.

  “It would have to be,” said Julia.

  “We’ve four separate wings of a thousand rooms each, twelve banquet halls, three ballrooms, the servants’ quarters, guards’ quarters, stables, courtyard …”

  Julia stared at the modestly sized Castle before her, no more than three hundred feet wide, and barely a hundred high. “You’ve got all that? In there?”

  “Ah,” said Rupert casually. “The Castle’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Cock-up at the architects,” said Rupert, grinning.

  “A thousand rooms to a Wing,” muttered the Princess. “How do you heat the place?”

  “Mostly we don’t,” Rupert admitted. “I hope you brought some thermal underwear.”

  “How many rooms are there altogether?”

  “We’re not actually sure,” said Rupert, beginning to wish he’d never brought the subject up. “Some rooms are only there on certain days. And nobody’s been able to find the South Wing since we lost it thirty-two years ago. It averages five thousand, two hundred and fourteen rooms in the autumn. I think. Still, not to worry; you’re perfectly safe, as long as you stick to the main corridors.”

  He was saved from Julia’s response by a coarse voice from the gatehouse.

  “Oi! You by the moat! On your way, or me and the lads’ll use you for target practice.”

  Rupert glared up at the shadowed embrasures over the portcullis. Once inside, he’d have a few sharp words with the Officer of the Watch. No doubt there’d be a right old panic in the Keep once they recognized his voice.

  “Let down the drawbridge, fellow!” he called grandly, striking a regal pose.

  “Get lost,” came the answer. The unicorn sniggered audibly. Rupert’s hand dropped to his swordhilt.

  “Don’t you know who I am?” he asked tightly.

  “No,” said the voice. “Don’t care much, neither.”

  “I am the Prince Rupert!”

  “No, you’re not,” said the voice.

  “Are you sure you’ve got the right Castle?” Julia asked sweetly.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” said the unicorn. “Now you know why we’re always so glad to be away from it.”

  “I tell you I am the Prince!” howled Rupert, very much aware of how all this must look to the Princess.

  “Leave it out,” said the voice boredly. “Everyone knows young Rupe got sent off on a quest to kill a dragon. He is missing, presumed dead. Now beat it, you pair of tramps, or we’ll string our bows and the dogs’ll get their dinner early.”

  “Tramps!” screamed Rupert. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill them all!”

  “Easy, easy,” soothed Julia, hanging determinedly onto Rupert’s arm to stop him drawing his sword. “He does have a point, you know; we’re not exactly dressed as royalty.”

  Rupert glanced at their battered and travel-stained clothing and scowled even more fiercely.

  “Guard! This is your last chance!”

  “Push off, peasant.”

  Rupert was all set to explode on the spot when a determined voice carried clearly from the trees behind him. “Stand fast, Prince Rupert; I’ll fix him.”

  There was a slight pause, and then thirty feet of annoyed dragon erupted out of the trees, showering Rupert, Julia, and the unicorn with leaves and broken branches. The dragon’s powerful wings brought him quickly to the raised drawbridge, and held him in position as his wickedly clawed feet reached out and dug in, rending the thick wood like so much paper. The guard in the gatehouse had a brief but clearly audible fit of the vapors, and then ran away, screaming for help. The dragon’s wings beat strongly as he threw his weight against the windlass holding the drawbridge up. Light shimmered on his emerald scales as great muscles bunched and corded. There was a sudden squealing of chains, and Rupert, Julia, and the unicorn stood well back as the drawbridge slammed down across the moat. The dragon glided down to join them, while Rupert and Julia applauded loudly.

  “Nice one,” said the unicorn. “Now they’ll probably send the whole bleeding army out to fight us.”

  Rupert led his party across the drawbridge, which shuddered under the dragon’s weight. Something stirred in the moat, and Julia peered dubiously at the shifting scum covering the murky waters.

  “Do you keep crocodiles in your moat, Rupert?”

  “Not any more,” said Rupert absently, keeping a watchful eye on the huge double doors at the other end of the Keep. “We used to, but then something set up housekeeping in the moat and ate them all.”

  “What was it?”

  “We’re not sure,” said Rupert. “It doesn’t really matter; if it can eat crocodiles, it can certainly guard a moat …”

  The massive oaken doors swung slowly open before them, and Rupert led his party out of the Keep and into the Castle’s courtyard. He stopped just inside the inner gates and stared about him, frowning. Even this late in the day there should have been traders at their stalls, haggling with a bustling crowd of villagers and townsfolk. There should have been conjurers and gypsies, knife-sharpeners and tinkers, beggars and priests. There should have been guards at the gates, and men-at-arms watching from the battlements. Instead, the vast empty courtyard lay still and silent before him. No braziers or torches disturbed the courtyard’s gloom, and the shadows seemed very dark. Rupert moved slowly forward, his soft footsteps unnaturally loud in the quiet.

  “Where the hell is everybody?”

  His words echoed hollowly back from the towering stone walls around him, and there was no reply.

  “I’ve seen livelier graveyards,” muttered Julia.

  “If I see anything that looks even remotely like a cross painted on a door, I’m leaving,” said the unicorn, rolling his eyes nervously. “Something’s wrong here; I can feel it in my water.”

  “Oh shut up,” snapped Rupert. “If there was a plague they wouldn’t have opened the gates to us, dragon or no dragon.”

  “I take it things aren’t normally this … peaceful,” said the dragon.

  “Not usually, no,” said Rupert tightly. He came to a halt at the bottom of the long flight of steps leading up to the main entrance hall, and glowered warily at the closed entrance doors. “There must have been some kind of emergency in the Land. Something so menacing that the Castle itself had to be stripped of its defenders, and then sealed against the outside world.” He stared up at the unmanned battlements and catwalks, and shivered suddenly. “But what kind of threat …”

  “The Darkwood,” said a quiet voice.

  Rupert spun round sword in hand as torchlight spilled suddenly into the courtyard. At the top of the flight of steps, a tall, imposing figure swathed in shining chain mail stood half-silhouetted before the slowly opening entrance-hall doors. Broad shoulders topped an impressively muscled frame, and the torchlight glowed ruddy on the huge double-headed axe in his hands. Julia drew her sword and moved protectively in beside Rupert as a dozen armed guardsmen burst out of the hall to reinforce the silently watching figure.

  “Friends of yours?” said Julia casually.

  “Not necessarily,” said Rupert.

  For a long moment nobody moved, and then the tall figure lowered his axe and smiled.

  “Welcome home, Prince Rupert.”

  “Thank you, sir Champion. Good to be back.” Rupert bowed slightly, but didn’t sheath his sword. “Surprised to see me?”

  “Just a little.” The Champion stared thoughtfully past Rupert’s shoulder. “I see you found a dragon.”

  “That’s right,” said Rupert calmly. “Now do you want to get rid of those guards, or shall I tell him supper’s on?”

  The Champion laughed, and dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand. They disappeared back into the entrance hall as the Champion strode majestically down the steps to greet Rupert and his party. Prince and Champion stared at each other thoughtfully, and Julia frowned as she realized neither man had put aside his weapon yet. The Champion worried her. He had to be at least forty, but he carried the massive war axe as if it was a toy. Old scars patterned a hard, unyielding face, and his constant slight smile wasn’t reflected in the cold, dark eyes. Killer’s eyes, thought Julia, and shivered suddenly. Just standing there, he made her feel … uneasy.

  “Well,” said Rupert softly, “What’s the situation these days?”

  “No change, Sire,” said the Champion. “I still may have to kill you.”

  “For the good of the Realm?”

  “Yes, Sire. For the good of the Realm.”

  They locked eyes, and Rupert looked away first. The Champion glanced at Julia.

  “And who might this be?”

  “The Princess Julia,” said Rupert.

  The Champion bowed slightly. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, Sire, I’ll see that a room is made ready for your guest.”

  He turned and made his way unhurriedly back up the steps to the entrance hall. Rupert swore under his breath and sheathed his sword with unnecessary violence. Julia glanced uncertainly after the departing Champion, and then sheathed her sword too.

  “What was all that about him killing you?” she asked quietly.

  “I’m a second son, remember?” said Rupert grimly. “My brother’s first in line for the throne, but there are any number of factions within the Court ready to use me as a figurehead in their grab for power. The Champion’s duty is to preserve the Realm; he’d cut me down in a moment if he thought it would prevent a civil war. I’ve known that all my life. I was supposed to die on the quest, and save everyone a lot of bother. Instead, I’ve come back at a difficult time, and he’s afraid I might try to take advantage of the situation, whatever it is.”

  “Would you?” asked Julia. “Take advantage, I mean.”

  “I don’t know,” said Rupert. “I suppose …”

  “Quiet,” said the unicorn. “He’s coming back.”

  A handful of courtiers and Ladies-in-Waiting jostled for position at the entrance hall doors as the Champion made his way back down the steps, accompanied by four armed guards, wearing scarlet and gold colors. Julia’s hand dropped to her sword again.

  “It’s all right,” said Rupert quickly. “They’re just an escort.”

  Julia glared suspiciously at the guards, and then seemed to relax a little, but Rupert noticed uneasily that her hand still rested on the pommel of her sword. A polite cough drew his attention back to the Champion waiting patiently before him.

  “Yes, sir Champion?”

  The Champion studied Rupert at length. “Interesting scars you have on your face, Sire.”

  “Cut myself shaving.”

  “And what happened to your armor?”

  “I left it in the Tanglewood. It got in the way.”

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