Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) (10 page)

“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.”

The Champion shook his head slowly. “I’ve sent word of your arrival to the Court, Sire. I think you’d better pay your respects to your father.”

Rupert winced. “Can’t it wait?”

“I’m afraid not.” The Champion’s voice was polite, but his cold, inflexible gaze allowed no room for disagreement. “As you may have gathered, Sire, we have a problem on our hands.”

Rupert nodded warily. “You mentioned the Darkwood …”

“Yes, Sire. It’s spreading.”

Rupert stared at the Champion in disbelief. The Darkwood’s boundaries hadn’t shifted by so much as an inch in centuries. “How fast is it moving?”

“Half a mile a day. The Tanglewood has already fallen to the long night, and demons are loose in the Forest. The Darkwood will be here in a matter of months. Unless we find a way to stop it.”

“Stop it? You couldn’t even slow it down!” Rupert didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He fought down an impulse to grab the Champion and shake some sense into him, and struggled to keep his voice calm. “We came back through the Darkwood, sir Champion. The place is crawling with demons. We were lucky to get out alive, and we had a dragon with us.”

“We have trained soldiers,” said the Champion mildly.

“Oh yes?” said Rupert, “Where?” He glared pointedly round the deserted battlements, but the Champion’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Demons have been attacking the outlying farms and villages, Sire; we’ve had to send out every guardsman and man-at-arms we can spare to protect them. The outermost settlements are being evacuated, but since no one dares travel by night, it’s a slow process. Too slow. Every night we lose more men. The demons have grown … cunning.”

“Yes,” said Rupert quietly, remembering. “They hunt in packs now.”

“That’s not possible,” said the Champion flatly.

“Bull,” said Julia. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Demons don’t co-operate,” the Champion insisted, ignoring Julia.

“They do now,” said Rupert. “Why have you sealed the Castle?”

“Demons have been here,” said the Champion. “When night falls, they appear at the clearing’s edge, watching from the shadows, their eyes glowing in the night like coals. So far they’ve made no move against the Castle, but every night there are more. It’s as though they’re … waiting for something.”

Rupert bit his lower lip thoughtfully. If the Darkwood was still months away, what were demons doing so far ahead of the darkness? And where were they hiding during the day? He shook his head slowly in disgust.

“Since I’ve had the most recent experience of the Darkwood, I suppose that makes me an expert … I’d better see my father.”

“Yes, Sire. The Court is waiting. With respect, Sire, don’t expect too much. Every faction in the Court seems to have its own plan for dealing with the Darkwood, none of them worth a damn. Your father listens to all of them, which is why nothing’s been done. Try to make him understand, Sire; there are decisions that must be made. He can’t go on putting them off.”

Rupert stared at the Champion thoughtfully. He was being set up for something; he could tell. The last time everyone started calling him Sire, he’d ended up travelling through the Darkwood in search of a dragon.

“Where’s Harald?” he asked suspiciously. “He’s always been the practical one of the family.”

The Champion shrugged. “I don’t think your brother really believes in the Darkwood.”

Rupert snorted. “I’ll change his bloody mind for him. All right, take me to the Court. No, wait a minute; I’ve a bone to pick with you. That guard at the gatehouse …”

“Has been replaced,” said the Champion. “Now, Sire, I think we’ve wasted enough time here. The Court is waiting.”

“Let them,” said the dragon. “I want a word with you.”

His massive head swung down till the great golden eyes were on a level with the Champion’s. The armed escort fell back in disarray, but the Champion stood his ground.

“Rupert is my friend,” said the dragon. “You threatened to kill him.” Bright sparks glowed suddenly in the dragon’s nostrils, and two thin plumes of smoke drifted up on the still evening air. The Champion didn’t move a muscle.

“I have my duty,” he said steadily.

“To hell with your duty,” said the dragon.

The Champion glanced at Rupert, who was watching the scene with undisguised glee. All his life he’d walked in the Champion’s shadow, knowing he lived or died at that man’s whim. Now the shoe was on the other foot, and he intended to enjoy it while it lasted. The Champion took in Rupert’s grin, and turned reluctantly back to the dragon.

“If anything happens to Rupert,” said the dragon, “I’ll level this Castle to the ground. Got it?”

“Got it,” said the Champion. “Anyone ever tell you your breath stinks of sulphur?”

“Dragon!” said Rupert quickly, as the creature’s claws flexed ominously. “I appreciate the thought, but much as I hate to admit it, we need him.”

“Thank you,” said the Champion, dryly.

The dragon glared at the Champion a moment longer, and then pulled back his head. Smoke continued to seep from his nostrils as he ostentatiously sharpened his claws on a convenient piece of brickwork. The Champion glanced at Rupert.

“I think you’d better teach your pet some manners, Sire.”

Rupert shrugged. “When you’re thirty feet long and breathe fire, who needs manners? And sir Champion; don’t ever call my friend a
pet.
You might upset him.”

The dragon smiled widely. The Champion studied the many rows of gleaming serrated teeth, and pointedly turned his back on the dragon.

“If you’re quite ready, Sire, your father …”

“I know,” said Rupert. “He hates to be kept waiting. Let’s go, Julia. Julia?”

“Over there,” said the unicorn.

Rupert looked round just in time to see Julia knee a guardsman in the groin and punch out a Lady-in-Waiting.

Julia had been having an interesting time. Fed up with being ignored by everybody, she’d wandered off on her own to see what there was to see. She hadn’t got far before being intercepted by a delicately pretty Lady-in-Waiting in her late thirties, and a bored-looking young guardsman.

“A Princess?” said the Lady Cecelia, glancing disparagingly at Julia’s battered leather jerkin and trousers. “From … where, precisely?”

“Hillsdown,” said Julia, taking in the Lady Cecelia’s ornate gown with a sinking heart. Intricately stitched, and studded with hundreds of semiprecious stones, the shaped and padded gown covered the Lady from shoulder to ankle, and was so heavy she could only move in little mincing steps. The massive flared cuffs were wide enough to swallow a small dog, and the bulging cleavage was at least partly supported by the ribbed corset responsible for the Lady’s tiny waist. The Lady Cecelia looked rich, aristocratic, and gorgeous. And she knew it.

I don’t give a damn
, thought Julia.
I’m not wearing a corset.

“Hillsdown,” said the Lady Cecelia thoughtfully. “Possibly I’m mistaken, dear, but I always thought Hillsdown was a Duchy. And strictly speaking, a Duchy isn’t entitled to have Princesses. Still, country titles aren’t like the real thing, are they? I mean, they don’t count for anything in Polite Society.” She bestowed a gracious smile on Julia, to underline the point that whilst Julia might not be a part of Polite Society, the Lady Cecelia most definitely was.

I’d better not hit her
, thought Julia.
Rupert’s got enough problems as it is.

She leaned forward and studied the Lady Cecelia’s dress closely. In addition to the corset, there were definite traces of bone stays built into the dress itself, to help maintain the hourglass figure.

“How do you breathe in that thing?” asked Julia.

“Daintily,” said the Lady Cecelia, coldly.

“Does everybody dress like this?”

“Anybody who is Anybody. Surely even country gentry know High Fashion when they see it?”

I’m not going to hit her
, thought Julia determinedly.

“You arrived with young Rupert, I believe,” said the Lady Cecelia.

“That’s right,” said Julia. “Do you know him?”

“Oh, everyone knows Rupert,” said the Lady Cecelia, with an unpleasant smile. The guard at her side sniggered.

Julia frowned. “Did I say something funny?” she asked, ominously.

The Lady Cecelia giggled girlishly. “Rupert, my dear, is a Prince in name only; he’ll never inherit the throne. That falls to his elder brother, Prince Harald. Ah, dear Harald; now
there
is a Prince. Tall, handsome, charming, and a devil on the dance floor. And when it comes to the Ladies … oh my dear, the tales I could tell you about Harald …”

“Never mind Harald,” said Julia. “Tell me about Rupert.”

“Prince Rupert,” said the Lady Cecelia crossly, “is no earthly use to anybody. He can’t dance, or sing, or write poetry, and he has absolutely no idea how to treat a Lady.”

“Right.” The guard grinned. “He still rides a unicorn.”

“He’s not a real man,” purred the Lady Cecelia, “Not like my Gregory.”

The guard smirked, and flexed his muscles under the Lady’s admiring gaze.

“Rupert,” said the Lady Cecelia, “Is a dull, boring …”

“Spineless little creep,” said the guard. And they both laughed, very unpleasantly.

So Julia quite naturally kneed the guard in the groin and punched the Lady Cecelia in the mouth.

On the other side of the courtyard, Rupert watched in amazement as the guard sank to his knees, and the Lady-in-Waiting stretched her length on the courtyard floor. One of the Champion’s escort drew his sword and started forward. Rupert kicked the man’s feet out from under him, and set his sword point at the guard’s throat.

“Nice moves,” said the Champion. “You’ve improved, Sire.”

“Thank you,” said Rupert tightly. “Keep an eye on this clown while I take care of Julia.” He sheathed his sword, and hurried over just in time to stop Julia slamming a boot into the Lady Cecelia.

“Julia, not here! Please, come with me to the Court and meet my father. There are lots of people there you can hit, I’ll be happy to point them out to you, but don’t waste your spleen on amateurs like these. The real creeps wouldn’t be seen dead outside the Court.”

Julia sniffed angrily, but allowed Rupert to lead her away.

“I suppose they insulted you,” said Rupert.

“Something like that,” said Julia.

“Forget about it,” said Rupert soothingly. “I’m sure they won’t do it again.”

“Never,” promised a faint male voice from the ground behind them.

Rupert grinned, and shook his head. It was obvious that Julia wasn’t going to take easily to being a lady again.

The Champion bowed to Julia as she and Rupert rejoined him. “If you will follow me, Princess Julia, the Court is this way.”

Julia inclined her head regally, accepted the Champion’s proffered arm, and allowed him to assist her up the steps to the entrance hall. The four guardsmen followed at a discreet distance. Rupert turned to the dragon and the unicorn.

“I thought the escort was for you,” said the dragon.

“Hardly,” said Rupert. “Well, don’t just stand there; come with me to see the King.”

“You want both of us?” said the unicorn timidly.

“Damn right,” said the Prince, smiling. “I’m going to
need all the support I can get. Now let’s go and look after Julia. Before she kills someone.”

Rupert paced impatiently up and down the Court’s narrow antechamber, shooting seething glances at the securely locked double doors that led into the Great Hall itself. The Champion had gone in first to inform the King that his son had finally arrived, and then, as so many times before, the ancient doors had been slammed in Rupert’s face. Once again, the Court was busy deciding his future.
Whatever they want, the answer’s no
, thought Rupert determinedly.
I didn’t survive the Darkwood just to get killed off by my own scheming relatives.

He stopped pacing and listened at the doors. A constant hubbub seeped through the solid wood, indicating that most of the Court were still present, despite the late hour. Rupert grinned. Courtiers hated having to work late; it interfered with the important things of life, like hunting, drinking, and wenching. Rupert stretched slowly, and thought longingly of the deep-mattressed bed waiting for him in his room. But, tired as he was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he’d discovered what new deviltry the King and his Court had come up with. He threw himself into one of the exquisitely uncomfortable chairs provided, and looked to see what his friends were doing.

Julia had her dagger out, and was using the family portraits for target practice. Her aim was pretty good. The dragon was lying partly in the antechamber, and partly in the outer hall. He was practicing blowing smoke rings from his nostrils, and chewing absently at a centuries-old tapestry Rupert had never liked much anyway. The unicorn was … Rupert winced.