Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) (11 page)

“Unicorn; couldn’t you have done that before you came in?”

“Sorry,” said the unicorn. “I get nervous inside strange buildings, you know that. I keep thinking the roof’s going to fall on me.”

Rupert shook his head, and looked back at the closed double doors. How many times had he stood before those doors, waiting for permission to speak to his own father? His mind drifted back through yesterday, and found nothing pleasant there. Born seven years after his brother, Rupert had been a surprise to everyone, and bad news to most. A King needed a second son as insurance in case something happened to the first, but two healthy adult sons meant nothing but trouble. Rupert had known that from an early age; everyone had taken great pains to make it clear to him. He scowled, as memories crept out of the shadows. The tutors, who beat him for being brighter than his favored elder brother. His instructors-at-arms, who beat him for not being as strong as his brother. The courtiers, who flattered or insulted him according to the fashion. The Barons, who intrigued in his name. And the Champion, whose cold dark eyes were full of death.

Foxfire moss glowed steadily in several lamps hanging from the low ceiling, but the antechamber was still full of shadows, as though darkness had followed him into the Castle. Rupert leaned back in his chair and sighed, wearily. Out in the Forest it had all seemed so simple and straightforward. He had to go back to the Castle because the Forest Land needed him. He smiled bitterly. The Forest didn’t need him. It never had. The only people who’d ever needed him were Julia, the dragon, and the unicorn. His friends. Rupert’s smile softened at the thought, and he rolled it back and forth in his mind, savoring it. He’d never had friends before. His position had kept him apart from other children, and his family … His mother died when he was five years old. His brother insulted and tormented him. And his father sent him out on a quest, to die.

Rupert shook his head to clear it. He’d passed through the Darkwood twice, fought off demons, and called down a Rainbow. Stuff his father, stuff the Court, and stuff the bloody Champion. They’d tried to get rid of him, and it hadn’t worked. He was back, and they could like it or lump it.

“How much longer?” asked Julia, retrieving her dagger from an ancestor’s eye.

Rupert shrugged. “They like to keep me waiting; it helps put me in my place.”

“And you put up with that?”

Rupert looked at Julia, and then at the unicorn and the dragon.

“I always used to,” he said thoughtfully, “But things have changed since then. Dragon …”

The dragon looked up from sharpening his claws on a handy suit of armor. “Yes, Rupert?”

“See those double doors?”

“Yes, Rupert.”

“See how many matchsticks you can make out of them.”

The dragon studied the doors a moment, and then grinned broadly. He surged to his feet, and reached out to tap the doors with one clawed hand. They shuddered under the dragon’s touch, and nodding solemnly, he backed carefully out of the narrow antechamber and turned himself around in the hall outside. Rupert, Julia, and the unicorn squeezed themselves into a far corner as the dragon cautiously introduced his rear end into the antechamber. He peered over his shoulder to check his friends were safely out of the line of fire, and then lashed out with a vicious swing of his tail. The doors exploded inwards, splinters flying on the air like grapeshot. Rupert nodded with satisfaction as screams and curses erupted from the packed Court.
Slam the doors in my face, will they?
He grinned, and ducking past the dragon’s tail, moved forward to check the damage. One door hung crookedly from its only remaining hinge, whilst the other had given up the ghost entirely and was lying facedown on the floor. Rupert took a deep breath and stepped forward into the gap where the doors had been. The Court’s uproar died away to an astonished silence.

Rupert looked about him. Several hundred assorted courtiers and Ladies-in-Waiting stared back with a fair mixture of fear, outrage, and curiosity. Half a hundred foxfire lamps shed their silver glow across the Court, while at the far end of the vast, spacious Hall, the last of the evening light fell through gorgeous stained-glass windows onto a massive throne, set high on a raised dais and carved in its entirety from a single block of oak. Sitting on that throne, unruffled and unmoved, was his father, King John IV. The King’s great leonine head seemed almost too heavy for his frail body, and his richly patterned robes and proud golden crown couldn’t disguise the ragged mop of gray hair and uncombed beard. Even on his better days, Rupert’s father still looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. And yet, despite the strong impression of age and tiredness that hung about him like an old, familiar cloak, King John carried himself with dignity, and his deep-set eyes were calm and steady.

At his side stood Thomas Grey, the Court Astrologer. Tall, broad-shouldered, and darkly handsome, the black-clad magician had every aspect of regality save the barest essential; noble birth. Born the son of a blacksmith, he’d been the King’s companion since childhood, and on John’s ascension to the throne, Thomas Grey had cut short a promising career at the Sorcerers’ Academy to return and stand at his friend’s side.

Rupert disliked the man intensely; he smiled too much.

The courtiers watched with hostile eyes as the Prince moved forward into the Court, his footsteps echoing loudly on the hush. He stopped almost immediately and turned to the Court usher, who was still staring slack-jawed at the ruined doorway.

“Well, don’t just stand there, usher; announce us.”

“I think they know we’re here, Rupert,” said an amused voice behind him. Rupert grinned, but shook his head firmly.

“That’s not the point, Julia. We have to be announced.”

“I have absolutely no intention of announcing you,” said the usher haughtily. “You can’t come barging in here and …” His voice died away as the dragon’s head peered interestedly over Rupert’s shoulder. Color drained from the usher’s face as the dragon squeezed his bulk slowly through the doorframe, widening it somewhat in the process. The usher swallowed heavily.

“Announcing you right away, Sire.”

He stepped hastily forward and, striking his best formal pose, declaimed; “Prince Rupert of the Forest Kingdom, second in line to the Forest throne, defender of the weak, warrior of the Realm, and collector of lesser taxes!” He then glanced nervously back over his shoulder and added in a smaller voice “… and friends …”

Julia curtsied daintily, and then realized she was still holding her dagger. She grinned, and lifting her trouser to show a generous amount of leg, she stuffed the weapon unconcernedly into the top of her boot. The dragon smiled widely, light gleaming prettily on his pointed teeth. Several of the nearer courtiers had a sudden attack of modesty, and faded quickly back into the crowd. The unicorn bobbed his head nervously, and christened the door-jamb.

“Do that again,” muttered Rupert, “and so help me I’ll tie it in a knot.”

“Rupert, dear fellow, so good to see you back safe and well,” boomed a deep voice from the rear of the Court. Rupert turned to see an aisle open up in the courtiers as his brother, Harald, came striding confidently forward to greet him. Tall, classically handsome, and loaded with muscle, Harald looked every inch a hero out of legend, and he knew it. He clapped Rupert on the shoulder and shook his hand firmly. They both tried for the knuckle-crusher and Rupert lost, as always.

“Interesting dragon you’ve brought us, dear boy,” said Harald brightly. “But you are supposed to kill them first, you know.”

“You’re welcome to try,” smiled Rupert, surreptitiously trying to shake the blood back into his fingers. Harald glanced at the dragon, who was licking his lips with a long forked tongue and eyeing the elder Prince hungrily.

“Perhaps later,” said Harald, and turned quickly away to smile charmingly at Julia. “Well, Rupert; at least your taste in women has improved. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“I have a feeling one of us is going to regret this,” said Rupert. “Princess Julia of Hillsdown, may I present my brother, Prince Harald of the Forest Kingdom.”

Used as he was to violent reactions to his friends, Rupert was still rather taken aback when the entire Court gasped with what sounded suspiciously like shock. Julia took one look at Harald’s outstretched hand, and let fly with a scream of pure rage. Harald looked at Julia’s right hand, and his jaw dropped. He fell back a pace, making helpless little shooing motions with his hands. Julia was all set to lunge at Harald and punch him out, but Rupert recognized the build-up and grabbed her from behind.

“Now what’s the matter?” he demanded wearily. “Can’t you get on with
anyone?
”

“It’s him!” shrieked the Princess, fighting to break free.

“I know it’s him!” snapped Rupert. “I introduced you, remember?”

Julia suddenly stopped struggling, and Rupert warily released her.

“You don’t understand,” she said dully. “He’s the Prince I was supposed to marry; the one I ran away from.”

Rupert closed his eyes briefly in disgust. Every time he seemed to be getting the hang of things …

“Why didn’t you say something earlier, Julia?”

“I never knew his name, Rupert. They never told me. I was promised in marriage when I was still a child; the ceremony was supposed to take place once I came of age. Your father and mine exchanged rings of engraved white gold as a token of the arrangement. I’ve worn mine since I was four years old, and Harald is still wearing his. I saw it on his hand. It bears exactly the same design as mine.”

Rupert glared at his brother, who was busily gathering the remaining shreds of his composure.

“Is that right? You’re supposed to marry her?”

“Well yes, dear boy, at least I was, but …”

“But what?”

“Well, she did run away, after all,” said Harald huffily. “That being the case, father quite naturally arranged another marriage for me, with one of the Barons’ daughters. Nice little filly. Damn fine dowry, and good political connections. Now, thanks to you …”

“Thanks to you, Rupert,” said the King, his dry even voice cutting effortlessly across Harald’s, “since the contract with the Duchy of Hillsdown still stands, technically, the original marriage will have to take place after all. Any other disastrous news you’d like to share with us?”

“Give me a moment,” said Rupert. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

Harald stalked off to have several quiet words with the King, while Rupert did his best to mollify the fuming Julia.

“I’m not marrying him,” she snapped furiously. “I’ll enter a nunnery first.”

Rupert’s mind boggled at the thought of Julia in a nunnery, but he strove to remain calm.

“You won’t have to marry him,” he promised soothingly. “I’ll sort something out.”

Julia sniffed, unconvinced, and studied Harald dubiously.

“He’s your brother; what’s he like?”

“Rich, good-looking, and successful with women. Three good reasons to hate anyone. Harald, however, is also a pompous, meticulous, occasionally hard-working twit who thinks fun should be outlawed for everyone not actually of noble birth. When I was a boy, he made my life hell. I still have some of the scars. Basically, he’s a hard-headed, ruthless creep who’ll make a great King.”

“Your average Prince,” said Julia solemnly, and Rupert had to grin.

The Court, meantime, had finally gathered its collective wits together. Rupert’s return alone would have provided the courtiers with enough gossip to last out the year, but his dramatic entrance via an exploding doorway was an unexpected bonus. The arrival of Julia and the dragon had sent them into a positive frenzy of speculation, though as yet nobody had quite worked up the nerve to formally introduce themselves to either the dragon or the Princess. In fact, there was much lively discussion as to which of the pair it would be safest to approach first. A few braver souls had started to edge casually forward when everyone suddenly discovered what happens when thirty feet of dragon breaks wind. The nearest courtiers fell back in disarray, desperately clapping perfumed handkerchiefs to their noses, and there was a general rush to open windows. Rupert and Julia looked at each other resignedly. It was obviously going to be one of those days.

The King was on his feet, rage darkening his face. “Get that dragon out of my Court! Get him out before he does it again!”

The dragon did it again. Rupert glared at him.

“Must you?”

“Yes,” said the dragon firmly.

“Are you going to do it again?”

“Possibly.”

“Then go outside and do it; there’s a whole Castle to choose from.”

The dragon shrugged indifferently. “Can’t be bothered. I think I’ll take a little nap instead.” He stretched his massive wings, sending several courtiers diving to the floor for safety, and then he curled up in the middle of the Court, his chin resting comfortably on his tail. The great golden eyes closed, and he was soon snoring steadily, like a thundercloud with indigestion.

“Has your friend finished now?” asked the King icily, settling back onto his throne.

“I hope so,” said Rupert. “But let’s keep our voices down, and let sleeping dragons lie.”

The King sighed, and shook his head slowly. “Approach the throne.”

Rupert did so, followed by Julia. The Astrologer stood to the King’s left, Harald to his right. They both bowed politely to Julia, who ignored them. The King stared silently at Rupert for some time.

“Rupert; can’t you do anything right?”

“Not a lot,” said Rupert. “Sorry I couldn’t oblige you by getting killed during the quest, but being dead is so boring.”

“I was referring to the dragon,” said the King.

“Sure you were,” said Rupert coldly. The King didn’t look away.

“I did what was best,” he said softly.

“You mean what the Astrologer told you was best.”

Thomas Grey bowed formally, but his pale blue eyes glittered dangerously. “I advise the King to the best of my poor ability,” he said silkily. “We both felt a successful quest might do much to help your standing in this Court. A Prince who had slain a dragon would, at the very least, be somewhat easier to arrange a marriage for.”