Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) (16 page)

“I don’t give a sweet damn how busy you are, sir Champion; you turn your back on me again and I’ll have your head.”

The Champion turned his horse back, and then dropped his reins to leave his sword hand free. A slight smile jerked at his mouth. “I think you forget your place, Rupert.”

“Do I? Last evening, my father ordered you to accept my authority during the journey to the Dark Tower. Are you going to break your word to your King?”

The Champion sat very still, and Rupert sensed wheels turning behind the impassive face. Then the Champion looked down, and took up his reins again, and Rupert knew that he’d won.

“My word is my bond, Sire,” said the Champion slowly. “On this journey, you command.”

“Good,” said Rupert, trying to keep the relief out of his voice. “Because if you try to undermine my authority over the guards again, I’ll cut your throat while you’re sleeping.”

“Threats aren’t necessary, Sire. I gave my word.”

Rupert nodded ungraciously. “Have you told the men we’ll have to pass through the Darkwood to reach the Warlock’s Tower?”

“Aye,” said the Champion. “I’ve never actually travelled through the long night, Sire. What’s it like?”

Rupert let his mind drift back. He remembered fear and pain that weighed on him still, like chains wrapped around his soul. “It’s dark,” he said finally. “Dark enough to break anyone.”

The Champion waited a while, and then realized Rupert wasn’t going to say any more.

“I’ll assemble the men, Sire. You’ll want to address them before we set out.”

“Do I have to?”

The Champion raised an eyebrow. “It is customary to brief the men on what dangers they’ll be facing, Sire.”

“Oh, yeah. All right; line them up, sir Champion.”

“Right away, Sire.”

The Champion rode off. Rupert watched him bark orders to the aimlessly milling guards, and strove to collect his thoughts. How the hell was he supposed to explain the dangers of the Darkwood to men who’d never even seen it? Most Forestmen never set foot in the long night; the Tanglewood saw to that. Rupert scowled thoughtfully; according to the Champion, the Tanglewood had fallen to the darkness, and demons roamed the Forest Land at will. Rupert shrugged, and let his hand drop to the pommel of the rainbow sword. If all else failed, he’d just have to summon another Rainbow.

The guardsmen slowly assembled before him in ones and twos, their horses stamping and whinnying in their eagerness to be off. Breath steamed on the chill morning air, and the odd shaft of sunlight gleamed golden on shining chain mail. The guards looked hard and competent, and Rupert’s heart sank a little as he realized they’d never understand the true horror of the Darkwood until they met if face-to-face. It was too personal a horror to bear explanation. But he had to try.

“The Darkwood,” he said finally, “Is dangerous. Always. Even when you can’t see the demons, be sure they’re watching you. There’s no light, except what we take in. There’s no usable food or water, except what we collect beforehand. I’ve passed through the Darkwood twice, and each time it came close to killing me. I had a dragon with me on the second journey, and it didn’t make a blind bit of difference.”

He paused and looked about him, the echoes of his voice dying quickly away in the courtyard’s silence. The guards stared impassively back, their eyes wary, but perhaps just a little respectful. In all Forest history, no man had passed through the Darkwood twice and survived.
And I’m going to try it again
, thought Rupert sourly.
I must be mad.
He smiled grimly at the guards before him.

“It’s a hard, bloody journey to the Dark Tower, my friends, and you’ll be facing the worst odds of your career. Most of you won’t be coming back. But we have to go; the Forest is depending on us to bring back the High Warlock. If we fail, darkness will spread over all the Land, and there’ll be nothing left to come back to. If we make it, they’ll sing songs about us forever.

“Anyone who wants, can back out now. The Darkwood’s no place for unwilling heroes. But for once in your life, you have a chance to make a difference; the Forest Land needs you. And I need you.”

He looked around, his breath caught in his throat as he waited for their answer. And one by one, the guards drew their swords and held them aloft in the ancient warrior’s oath of fealty. Rupert slowly nodded his acceptance, unable to hide how much the gesture meant to him, and half-a-hundred swords crashed back into their scabbards.

“Sir Champion!”

“Aye, Sire?”

“Let’s go.”

Rupert headed the unicorn toward the inner gates. The Champion fell in beside him, and the guards followed close behind in tight formation. The huge oaken doors swung slowly open, and massed hoofbeats shook the thick stone walls as Rupert led his men through the Keep. And then the portcullis lifted, the drawbridge slammed down across the moat, and Rupert and his party rode out into the early morning mists.

Rupert shivered, and wrapped his cloak tightly about him. He’d been travelling all morning, but though the mists had finally cleared, the day grew no warmer. A dull, blood-red sun glowered down from the dark, overcast sky, ominous with the threat of thunder and sudden storm. A heavy frost had bleached the grass verges of the trail he followed, and the uneven ground was hard and unyielding beneath the unicorn’s hooves. Stark leafless trees stood brooding to every side, and silvered cobwebs shrouded what little greenery remained. No animals moved among the trees, and no birds sang. The Forest lay still and silent in that bleak afternoon, and the dull muffled hoofbeats from Rupert’s troop of guards seemed an unwelcome intrusion on the unnatural quiet.

Rupert beat his fists together to get the blood moving, but the cold still gnawed at his fingers, despite his thick leather gloves. He’d long ago lost all feeling in his feet.
It’s barely autumn
, he thought dazedly.
It’s never been this cold so early in the year
… The bitter wind lashed his face, chafing his cheeks raw. Rupert felt a familiar chill growing in his bones, and knew that the wind had its beginnings in the endless night. The Darkwood’s influence moved ahead of it, falling like a blight on land soon to be claimed by the darkness. Rupert started to shiver, and for a long time he couldn’t stop.

The Champion suddenly put up a hand, and the column of guards came to a ragged halt. Rupert reined in his unicorn and stared quickly about him, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

“Why have we stopped, sir Champion?”

“We’re being watched, Sire.”

Rupert frowned. “I don’t see anybody.”

“They’re here,” said the Champion softly. “They’re waiting for us.”

For a long moment, nobody moved. The guards sat stiffly in their saddles, eyes testing the Forest shadows, ears straining for the slightest noise. The gaunt, spectral trees crowded about them, guarding ancient secrets in an impenetrable gloom. The only sound was the whinnying and snorting of the restless horses, and the low murmur of the wind in the bare branches. And then Rupert felt his hackles slowly rise as he made out dim, furtive movements in the shadows ahead.

There was a susurrus of steel on leather as the guards drew their swords.
Demons,
came the murmur, passing swiftly through the ranks,
Demons in the shadows.
Rupert drew his sword, and swore under his breath as he realized his buckler was still securely fastened to his backpack. He fumbled at the straps, his eyes straining against the gloom ahead. Half a dozen lancers moved forward to flank him and the Champion, light gleaming on the deadly steel shafts. Rupert slipped on his buckler, glanced at the Champion, and then urged the unicorn forward. The troops moved with him, slowly gathering speed.

Demons in the Forest Demons by daylight. The Darkwood must be closer than we thought.

Rupert shook his head quickly to clear it, and hefted his buckler to a more comfortable position. He realized he could barely feel the swordhilt with his numbed fingers, and tightened his grip. And then a single tiny figure darted out into the trail ahead, and raised both its hands in surrender.

“We give up!” it called plaintively. “Honest!”

Rupert brought his unicorn to a sudden halt, the guards piling up behind him. A sudden suspicion entered his mind, and a broad grin spread slowly across his face as out onto the Forest trail stepped a great crowd of goblins. Their leader took one look at Rupert and winced visibly.

“Oh no. Not you again.”

The other goblins peered shortsightedly at Rupert, and then crowded together in the middle of the trail, shaking in every limb. There was a general dropping of weapons, and several of the smaller goblins burst into tears.

“Friends of yours?” asked the Champion.

“Not exactly,” said Rupert. He gestured for the goblin leader to approach him, and the goblin did so reluctantly.

“It’s not fair,” he said bitterly, glaring up at Rupert. “I’ve spent weeks turning that bunch of knock-kneed idiots into a crack fighting unit. I’ve taken farmers and herders and leechmen and turned them into warriors. Two days ago we fought off a demon pack. Morale’s never been higher. And then what happens? You come along and demoralize the whole damn bunch without even using your sword! It’s not fair!”

“Calm down,” said Rupert.

“Calm down? It’s not enough that you’ve become a legend among us, as the only human ever to have defeated a whole pack of goblins. It’s not enough that some of that pack are still having nightmares about you. It’s not enough that goblin mothers now frighten their children with tales of the nasty human who’ll come for them if they’re naughty. Oh no, not content with all that, you decide to hunt us down with a whole troop of guards! What are you going to do for an encore; set fire to the Forest?”

Rupert grinned. It was obvious that the goblins he’d scared off had built him up into a mighty hero, to justify their running away. Maybe legends had their uses after all.

“What are you doing so far from your home?” he asked, and the goblin leader scowled.

“The Tanglewood’s gone,” he said gruffly. “The dark came, and demons overran the narrow paths. They wrecked our homes and butchered our families. We ran before them, carrying what we could. Goblins aren’t brave; we’ve never needed to be. It’s not in our nature. But after what we’ve seen, some of us have learned to hate.

“We’re an old race, sir hero, remnants of an earlier age. It was a simpler time, then. No humans to make us afraid, no Darkwood to blight our Forest. An age when magic was strong in the world, and cold iron lay safely in the ground, no danger to the small folk. Then man came, using steel against our bronze, forcing us from our ancient homes. We created the Tanglewood with the last of our magic, and made it our new home. Few of us survived the move; we live long and breed slow, and we don’t like change.

“We’re not fighters, sir hero; it’s not our way. We don’t even make good footpads, as you no doubt remember. We farm, and tend our herds, and leave the world be. All we’ve ever asked is to be left alone. But now the night is spreading, and our day is finally over. Once, our numbers were beyond counting. Then there were thousands of us, living in the Tanglewood. Now there are hundreds, and we have no home. So we’re going to the Forest Castle. We may not be strong and brave or carry cold steel, sir hero, but we can fight, and if the Castle will shelter our families, we’ll defend it with our lives.”

The goblin leader glared defiantly up at Rupert, as if expecting an insult or a blow for his presumption in claiming his people to be warriors. Rupert looked past him, and saw that the listening goblins had drawn strength from their leader, and were standing calmly in the middle of the trail, awaiting Rupert’s answer. They were not proud or brave, but there was something about them that might have been dignity.

“Go to the Castle,” said Rupert, his voice breaking a little. “Ask admission in my name; Prince Rupert of the Forest Kingdom. Your families will be safe there, and the King can always use warriors like you.”

The goblin leader stared at him, and then nodded briefly. “And where might you be off to, sir hero?”

“We’re going to the Dark Tower,” said Rupert. “To summon the High Warlock.”

The goblin leader’s mouth twitched. “I don’t know who I feel more sorry for; you, or him.”

He turned on his heel and marched back to his waiting people. More goblins emerged from the Forest shadows; women and children, carrying what few possessions they had left. The goblin leader coaxed and bullied his people into a single ragged line, and then led them past the silently watching, somewhat bemused troop of guards. Slowly, wearily, the goblins headed down the dirt trail that led to Forest Castle.

“I take it you’ve encountered these … persons … before,” said the Champion.

“Several of them tried to kill me in the Tanglewood,” said Rupert. “I showed them the error of their ways.” He realized he was still holding his sword, and sheathed it.

“I see,” said the Champion. His tone of voice made it clear that he didn’t.

Rupert grinned, and then looked down as somebody tugged impatiently at his stirrup. The smallest goblin smiled cheerily up at him.

“Good day, sir hero; remember me? Thought I’d just say thanks. Our glorious leader’s pretty damn good at fighting, but he’s not much of a one for the social graces. Not that I’ll hear a word said against him, mind; it’s thanks to him we’ve learned to kill demons. We saw off a whole pack of them, not so long ago.”

“Wait a minute,” said Rupert slowly. “You people fought a pack of demons? Where?”

“Place called Coppertown,” said the smallest goblin. “Chopped them demons into chutney, we did. Not very tasty, mind; all bone and gristle. Now then, don’t you worry about the Castle, sir hero, we’ll look after it for you. We know all kinds of nasty things to do with boiling oil.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” said Rupert. “About Coppertown …”

“Nice little place, that. Many’s the night me and the lads would steal calves and chickens from the townspeople. Not any more, though.”

“Why not?”

“Demons,” said the smallest goblin. “Ripped the village’s guts out, they did. No more humans. All gone. Can’t stop, sir hero; got to catch up with the lads. Have a nice trip.”