Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) (59 page)

Read Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) Online

Authors: Simon R. Green

Julia looked around the packed, milling courtyard.
Wherever you are, Rupert; watch your back
. She sighed tiredly, once, and then strode off into the crowd, heading for where her troop of women were waiting for her. And the Infernal Device on her back seemed to grow a little heavier with every step.

Rupert stood in the shadows of the stable doors, watching Julia drill her troop of women. Swords and spears and hand-axes gleamed in the torchlight as the women stamped and lunged, their movements still somehow graceful despite the cumbersome chain mail they all wore. Julia strode back and forth before them, stopping briefly to smile and encourage, or demonstrate a difficult cut or parry. As she moved through the flickering, uncertain light, sword in hand, her tall, lithe form seemed like that of some ancient warrior goddess, teaching the arts of war to her worshippers.

She was dressed as she had been when Rupert first knew her, and he wasn’t sure why that hurt him as much as it did. With her old clothes, and her long, blonde hair tied back in two simple, functional braids, she was like a bitter accusing memory of the time they’d had together, before he’d brought her back to Forest Castle. He’d been so happy, then.

“I wish you’d go and talk to her,” said the unicorn. “You’re getting on my nerves, standing there all frowning and broody.”

“There’s nothing left to say,” said Rupert quietly. “She’s marrying Harald, of her own free will.”

“Yeah,” said the unicorn. “And demons are vegetarians. You’re too hard on the girl, Rupert. If she’s marrying Harald, it’s only because the Court pressured her into it. It’s not as if she had any choice in the matter, now is it?”

“I don’t know,” said Rupert tiredly. “I don’t know anything any more.”

“Buck up,” said the unicorn gruffly. “We’ll be going out into the dark soon. Think of all the fun you can have, taking out your troubles on the demons. They won’t know what’s hit them.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Out in the courtyard, Julia turned suddenly to face the stables, and Rupert backed quickly away from the doors before she could see him. He didn’t know why he was so angry. It was her life, and she had a right to live it as she chose. He hadn’t even known her long. They’d spent a few months together, and then he’d had to leave her at the Castle while he went off in search of the Dark Tower. After so many months apart, with every reason to suppose him dead, it was only to be expected that Julia would turn to somebody else. And Harald always was a charming bastard. Their marriage had been all but inevitable.

That’s as may be
, thought Rupert grimly.
But I’m still not going to be the bloody best man!

He turned his back on the open stable doors and tugged irritably at his new chain mail. The vest had obviously been fashioned for someone a few inches taller and a great deal broader than him, and in the few places where it did fit, it chaffed him unmercifully. The arms were too long, the leggings were baggy, and the waistline was a joke. And to top it all, his hood kept falling forward over his eyes. Rupert stomped back and forth between the stalls, trying to get the feel of the armor, but soon gave up in disgust. It could take weeks to get a new suit of chain mail fitting just right, and he didn’t have weeks. It would just have to do as it was.

“Typical,” he said finally.

“What is?” asked the unicorn.

“Well, here I am, all dressed up in bright new armor, about to go back into the dark and fight evil, and all I can think of is how much I need to visit the privy!”

The unicorn sniggered unfeelingly. “It’s just nerves, lad. Think about something else.”

“It’s all right for you. You can take a piss any time you feel like it. I have to unbuckle half my damn armor first.”

“Don’t worry,” said the unicorn. “Once we get outside the gates, one good look at the demon horde will undoubtedly scare the piss right out of you.”

“You’re a great help.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Ah, to hell with it,” said Rupert suddenly, and before the unicorn’s startled gaze, he began unbuckling his chain mail.

“Rupert; what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“First, I’m going to get rid of this damn armor, and then I’m going to empty my bladder. Any more questions?”

“Just the one; how long do you think you’re going to survive out there without any armor? They’ll rip you to pieces!”

“I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it.”

“As I recall,” said the unicorn, watching interestedly as piece after piece of chain mail fell to the stable floor, “The last time you threw away your armor, we were immediately ambushed by a bunch of goblins, and you terrorized the lot of them. Who knows; maybe you’ll get lucky again.”

“I fight better without armor, anyway,” growled Rupert, gazing vacantly into space as he emptied his bladder against a convenient wall post. “Chain mail’s not as bad as plate armor, but this stuff fits like a sack, and just gets in the way. I’ll keep the vest; I’m not entirely daft. Did you say something, unicorn?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Rupert sniffed, and walked back to the unicorn, readjusting his sword belt.

“Feeling better now?” asked the unicorn.

“Much,” said Rupert.

“Then perhaps you’d like to tell me just what you think our chances are of coming out of this mess alive.”

Rupert looked away from the unicorn, and shrugged tiredly. “I don’t know, Breeze. We’ve got the High Warlock on our side, if he sobers up in time. And the Infernal Devices should make quite a difference, if we can keep them under control. Our own chances … aren’t particularly good, but we’ve beaten long odds before, haven’t we?”

“In other words,” said the unicorn quietly, “we’re going to die out there.”

“It looks like it,” said Rupert finally. “We’ve pushed our luck as far as it will go, my friend. Only a miracle will get us out of this one. Still, at least this way we have a chance to take some of the demons with us.”

“Then that will have to do,” said the unicorn.

“Rupert …” Julia’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “I need to talk to you.”

Rupert looked around quickly. Julia was standing half-silhouetted in the stable doorway. She moved slowly forward into the lanternlight, and Rupert didn’t know whether to smile or bow or turn and run. In her old familiar clothes, she looked just the way she used to be, and he didn’t want to be reminded of that.

“I’m busy right now, Julia. Can’t this wait?”

“No,” said Julia. “It can’t.”

She studied Rupert in silence, taking in the dark bruises of fatigue beneath his eyes, and his watchful, wary stance. There was a grim, defeated look to him that she’d never seen before, and for a moment it was like looking at a stranger. The moment passed, and Julia smiled suddenly. When in doubt, go to the heart of the matter.

“I love you, Rupert.”

He flinched as though she’d hit him. “Of course you love me. That’s why you’re marrying Harald.”

“No, Rupert. They can threaten and plead, and they can drag me kicking and screaming to the altar, but they can’t make me marry him.”

“Sure.” Rupert couldn’t seem to raise enough strength to be angry; he was too tired to be anything but bitter. Julia reached out and put a hand on his arm, and it seemed heavy even in its gentleness.

“Rupert; I don’t want you to go off into battle believing a lie. I don’t give a damn for Harald, or being a Princess, or anything but being with you.”

“I saw you in the Court,” said Rupert thickly. “I saw you with Harald …”

“I was angry,” said Julia. “I wanted to hurt you, to make you jealous, because … oh, Rupert …”

She moved forward and took him in her arms. He clung to her desperately, like a drowning man, his face buried in her neck. She hugged him fiercely back, not flinching even when his strength hurt her.

“Don’t leave me,” Rupert said hoarsely into her neck. “You’re all I’ve got left.”

“I’ll never leave you,” Julia promised him quietly. “Never again, my love.”

“Me neither,” said the unicorn, butting them gently with the side of his head. Without looking round, Rupert reached blindly out with one arm and hugged the unicorn’s neck.

After a while, Rupert regained control of himself and straightened up. Julia immediately let go of him, and brushed at his clothes and pulled his chain vest straight, so that she wouldn’t have to see his face while he composed himself again. Rupert was funny about things like that.

“How long before they open the gates?” she asked, her voice carefully calm and steady.

“Not long now,” said Rupert. He smiled at Julia as she fussed over him, and then frowned suddenly as he caught sight of the leather-bound swordhilt standing up behind her left shoulder. “Julia, where did you get that sword?”

Julia heard the tension in his voice, and stepped back a pace so that she could face him squarely.

“The King wanted me to have it. He said you’d turned it down.”

“That’s right, I did. I wish you had, too.”

“It’s only a sword, Rupert.”

“No, it isn’t! That thing on your back is an Infernal Device; an evil so great my ancestors kept it locked away in the Armory for over five hundred years rather than risk using it.”

“How can any sword be that evil?”

Rupert looked at her steadily. “According to legend, the swords are alive; and they corrupt the souls of those who bear them.”

Julia shook her head impatiently. “A sword is a sword. All right, it feels … wrong, somehow. But as long as it kills demons, I’ll have a use for it. Anyway, you carry a magic sword yourself.” Julia stopped suddenly, and looked at Rupert thoughtfully. “The rainbow sword; I’d forgotten all about it. Why can’t we use that against the darkness? It worked before, remember?”

Rupert shook his head. “I’ve already tried, Julia. It doesn’t work anymore.”

Julia’s face fell, and for a moment they stood together in silence. Julia glanced out the stable door. “Rupert; I can’t stay much longer. My women are waiting for me.”

“Yes; I watched you drilling them. They looked … promising.” Rupert smiled suddenly. “I don’t know, lass; it hardly seems fair to send you out into the dark, carrying an Infernal Device and leading a company of fighting women. I mean, we just want to kill the demons, not terrorize them.”

Julia laughed. “I’ll make you pay for that, after the battle’s over.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They looked at each other steadily. Rupert reached out and took Julia’s hands in his.

“Julia, whatever happens … I love you, lass. Never doubt it.”

“I love you, Rupert. You watch your back, when we finally get out there.”

“Right. And after we’ve won …”

“Yes,” said Julia. “There’ll be time for lots of things, after we’ve won.”

They kissed once, lingeringly, and then Julia turned and walked out of the stables, back to her waiting women. Rupert watched her go and, for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace with himself. He reached inside his chain mail vest, and from under his jerkin he brought out a crumpled, battered handkerchief spotted with faded bloodstains. “My Lady’s favor,” he said softly. He touched the cloth to his lips, and then tucked it carefully back into place, over his heart.

“Lancers, mount up! Gate keepers, stand ready!”

The Champion’s voice came roaring across the courtyard, and for a moment the voice of the crowd fell silent, before rising again in a bedlam of shouted orders and whinnying horses. Rupert breathed deeply, straightened his shoulders, and led the unicorn out of the stables and into the courtyard.

The Champion sat astride a massive, evil-eyed charger, the torchlight gleaming ruddy on his freshly polished armor. Impressive and invincible, and towering above the milling crowd, a hero out of legend. He gestured impatiently with his war-axe, and a hundred lancers urged their horses forward to take up their position behind him. The couched lances stabbed proudly up at the starless night sky, their gleaming shafts bedecked with brightly colored ribbons and lady’s favors, like so many brilliant banners. The guards and men-at-arms moved in behind the lancers, laughing and joking and passing around flasks of wine. They stamped their feet against the cold, and glanced at the closed gates with eager anticipation, glad that the waiting was almost over. And behind them, bringing up the rear, came the courtiers and farmers and traders, uncomfortable in their ill-fitting armor, but quietly determined not to be found wanting when the time came. Men and women stood side-by-side, carrying swords and pikes and hand-axes, and no one thought it strange. Women were fighting for the same reason as men; because they were needed, and because there was no one else.

Rupert mounted his unicorn, and slowly made his way through the crowd to take his place at the head of the army. A handful of guardsmen appeared out of nowhere and formed themselves into an honor guard around him. Rupert bowed his head to them, and the ten guards he’d brought back from the Darkwood saluted him with their swords.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” demanded Rupert. “You should be taking it easy in your barracks; you’re walking wounded.”

“If we can walk, we’re not wounded,” said Rob Hawke. “That’s the orders. Besides, why should you have all the fun? We were just getting the hang of killing demons when you dragged us back into the Castle.”

“You know the odds are stacked against us,” Rupert began, and then had to break off as the guards laughed derisively.

“When haven’t the odds been stacked against us?” grinned Hawke. “We’re getting used to that.”

“Doomed!” moaned another guard. “We’re all doomed!”

Several of the guards started wailing a funeral dirge, but quickly grew bored and changed it to an upbeat tempo. People around them stared at the guards, and then looked
hastily away. Rupert couldn’t speak for laughing. By the time the small party reached the Castle gates, he was leading his men in a bawdy marching song in which the word
doomed
appeared at regular intervals.

King John was kneeling beside his horse in the shadows of the inner North wall, struggling with a stubborn girth strap. His tousled gray hair was held in place by a simple leather headband, and his chain mail bore the scars and repairs from a hundred old campaigns. Rockbreaker clung to his back as though it was a part of him, but he still wore his old, familiar sword on his left hip. The Astrologer stood beside him, watching patiently. Finally he reached down and deftly pulled the girth strap into place.

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