Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood)

by Simon R. Green

  “For once, I agree with sir Champion,” said the Astrologer, staring coldly at Lord Darius. “The Darkwood is the incarnation of darkness upon the earth. All that thrives within it is evil. Demons are not living creatures such as we; they exist only to serve the Darkwood.”

  “They don’t just serve the Darkwood,” said Darius softly. A sudden silence fell over the Court. Rupert stared at the Minister with growing horror as he realized what Darius was implying.

  “You can’t be serious,” said the Astrologer.

  “Why not?” said Darius. “How else do you explain the Darkwood’s sudden growth? There’s only one possible answer. The Demon Prince has returned.”

  “A legend,” said the Champion, too quickly. “A tale told to frighten children.”

  “Some legends are true,” said Rupert quietly, but only Julia heard him. She took his hand, and squeezed it briefly.

  “Men have struck deals with the Demon Prince before,” said Darius, persuasively. “Why else would demons haunt the Castle grounds night after night, so far from the Darkwood? They’re waiting for us to go to them and make a compact!”

  “I’ll strike no bargains with the dark,” said King John.

  “But what if we give the Demon Prince what he desires …” The Minister’s voice died away beneath the King’s cold, angry gaze.

  “What do you suggest, Minister? That I surrender the villages to him, in the hopes he’ll spare this Castle?”

  “Why not?” said Darius flatly. “As sir Champion has already pointed out, what are the lives of a few peasants against the security of the Forest Kingdom?”

  “This is madness!” roared the Champion. “I meant we should fight the darkness, not surrender to it! Set a blood sacrifice for the Demon Prince and we’ll never be free of him!”

  “Such a plan would destroy us all!” grated the Astrologer. “We either stand against the dark or fall beneath it!”

  “Your majesty, as Minister for War I must protest …”

  “SHUT UP!” yelled Rupert. A sudden silence fell across the Court as everyone looked at Rupert in surprise, having forgotten in the heat of the argument that he was still there.

  “Thank you, Rupert,” said King John. “It was getting a little noisy. According to the Champion, you actually passed through the Darkwood on your quest.”

  “Twice,” said Rupert curtly.

  A ripple of barely suppressed laughter ran through the Court. The Minister for War sniggered openly, his dark little eyes sparkling with malicious glee.

  “Oh come now, Rupert,” said Lord Darius, dropping a podgy hand on Rupert’s arm. “Surely you don’t expect us to believe you passed through the Darkwood twice? Even with a dragon in your party, the demons would have ripped you to pieces.”

  “They tried,” said Rupert evenly. “We got lucky. Now get your hand off my arm, or I’ll feed you your fingers.”

  The Minister removed his hand with exaggerated care, and bowed sarcastically.

  “And how many demons did you meet in the Darkwood, sir hero? Ten? Twenty?”

  “Too many to count,” said Rupert angrily. “Demons hunt in packs now.”

  “Nonsense,” snapped the Astrologer. “Everyone knows demons haven’t the intelligence to work together. They prey on each other when food grows scarce.”

  “I was there,” said Rupert grimly, struggling to remain calm. “There were hundreds of the bloody creatures, fighting side by side.”

  “Hundreds?” sneered Darius, his gaze openly contemptuous. “Don’t waste our time with such obvious lies. You were never in the Darkwood. I’ve no doubt the Princess Julia was most impressed by your pretty stories, but don’t think to deceive us as well. You’re a coward and a failure, and everyone here knows it. Now run along, and tell your tales to the scullery maids. You’ve no business here.”

  Rupert drove his fist into the Minister’s sneering mouth. The Court gasped as Darius fell backwards into the crowd and lay still. A guardsman moved forward to restrain Rupert, and Julia kicked him between wind and water. The guard bent in two, and Julia rabbit-punched him. More guards came forward, and the Champion drew his sword. Rupert and Julia drew their swords and stood back-to-back. For a long moment, nobody moved.

  “Think you’re up to it, lad?” said the Champion, softly.

  “Maybe,” said Rupert. “You said yourself I’d improved, and Julia’s pretty good with a sword, too. Who knows; we might just get lucky.”

  “You’ll never be that lucky.” The Champion grinned, moving forward. His eyes were cold and hard and full of death.

  “Enough!” roared the King, surging to his feet. “Sir Champion, sheath your sword. That’s an order! Guards, return to your places; I’m in no danger.”

  The Champion looked at the King a moment, and then sheathed his sword, his face calm and expressionless. The guards moved reluctantly back to their positions, and the King sank back onto his throne.

  “Rupert, Julia; please put down your swords,” said King John evenly, his eyes darting from one to the other. “You are under my protection in this Court, and you have my word you will come to no harm here.”

  Julia glanced at Rupert, who nodded slowly. They sheathed their swords, and everybody relaxed a little. A small knot of courtiers gathered around the feebly groaning Lord Darius.

  “Somebody help the Minister for War back to his chambers,” said the King, and two of the courtiers half-led, half-carried Darius away. The King hid a smile behind a raised hand, and leaned back in his throne. “Now, Rupert …”

  “No, no, and no,” said Rupert firmly. “No, I will not lead an army into the Darkwood to fight the demons; no, I will not lead a diplomatic party to talk to the demons; and no, I don’t have any sense of duty or honor. I think that covers everything.”

  Julia nodded solemnly.

  “Rupert, I assure you …” King John began, but Rupert cut in quickly, knowing that if he started being reasonable now, he was lost.

  “Forget it. I don’t care what you’ve got lined up for me, the answer’s no. I’ve done my bit; let somebody else put their head on the block for a change.”

  “Rupert, if there was anybody else …”

  “There is; Harald.”

  His brother looked up from idly buffing his nails, and shook his head amiably. “Afraid not, dear boy; I’m needed here. Sorry.”

  “Blow it out your ear, Harald.”

  There was a slight pause, as everyone pretended not to have heard that.

  “Rupert,” said King John firmly, “I quite agree that you’ve earned a rest. Unfortunately, the task I have for you is both urgent and vital, and it cannot wait. Tomorrow morning …”

  “Tomorrow morning!” shrieked Rupert. “I’ve only just got back! I don’t believe this. I just do not believe it; I’ve been back in the Castle less than an hour, and already you’re trying to get rid of me again. What’s the bloody rush?”

  “We’re running out of time,” said Thomas Grey. “There’s a Blue Moon rising.”

  Dark murmurs rustled through the Court as the young Prince stared blankly at the Astrologer.

  “There hasn’t been a Blue Moon for centuries,” said Rupert slowly, and then a dim memory came flooding back to him, and his eyes widened. “Wait a minute; according to some legends, the first time a Blue moon rose, the Darkwood was born …”

  The Astrologer nodded grimly. “Once in a Blue Moon, magic is loosed in the world. Wild Magic, to create or destroy, strong enough to reshape reality itself on the night the Blue Moon is full. We have seven months until that night; seven months in which to find an answer to the darkness. If we fail, the Darkwood will spread over all that is. Civilization will fall, the long night will have no ending, and the world will belong to the demons.”

  For a long while the Court stood silent, shaken by the Astrologer’s dark vision.

  “There must be something we can do,” said Rupert haltingly.

  “There is,” said the Astrologer. “Prince Rupert; you

must journey to the Dark Tower, and there summon the High Warlock.”

  Rupert stared at the Astrologer.

  “I should have volunteered to lead an army against the Demon Prince,” he said finally. “It would have been safer.”

  “But you’ll do it,” said King John.

  “Of course,” said Rupert bitterly. “You knew that before I came in here.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Julia, moving quickly forward to stand between Rupert and the King. “What’s going on here? Rupert; who is this High Warlock?”

  “A sorcerer,” said Rupert shortly. “Very powerful, and very deadly. Exiled years ago. He doesn’t take kindly to visitors.”

  “You don’t have to go,” said Julia, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “You’ve done enough.”

  “No,” said Rupert tiredly. “Father’s right; there is no one else … they can spare.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  “Oh, I say,” said Harald. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

  “Shut your face, creep,” said Julia. Harald gaped at her, and the courtiers had a coughing fit. Julia ignored them, her eyes pleading with Rupert as he slowly shook his head.

  “I can’t take you with me, Julia. Not to the Dark Tower. There’s no one I’d rather have to guard my back, you know that, but I can’t let you risk your life for me again. I’ve no right. You’ll be safe here … as long as you keep Harald at arm’s length.”

  “But …”

  “No, Julia.” Rupert met her gaze unyieldingly, and she looked away.

  “It’s not fair,” she said quietly.

  “No,” said Rupert. “It isn’t.” He turned to the King, who studied him narrowly.

  “Well, Rupert; it seems you and the Princess Julia have grown somewhat fond of each other.”

  “Yes,” said Rupert.

  “She’s promised to Harald,” said King John. “The contract was signed long ago.”

  “I know my duty,” said Rupert. “I’ve always known my duty. That’s the only reason I’m going on this mission. And what’s more, if I’ve got to go calling on the High Warlock, I want a full troop of guards to back me up.”

  “They’ll be ready for you first thing tomorrow morning,” said the King.

  “And I want the Champion to lead them …” said Rupert.

  “An honor to ride at your side, Sire,” said the Champion.

  “… under my orders,” said Rupert.

  The King hesitated, and then nodded. “It’s your expedition, Rupert. But I strongly suggest you listen to the Champion’s advice at all times.”

  “As long as it is advice,” said Rupert.

  “Of course, Sire,” said the Champion, bowing.

  He’s calling me Sire again, thought Rupert dourly. Things must really be desperate.

  “All right,” he sighed finally. “Sir Champion; we start at first light tomorrow. Though how we’re going to persuade the High Warlock to come back with us I don’t know.”

  “He’s our only hope,” said the Astrologer.

  “Then you’d better start making white flags,” growled Rupert.

  “I don’t see any need for further discussion,” said the King hastily. “Court is dismissed!”

  The courtiers filed slowly out, chattering animatedly as they headed for the gap where the double doors used to be. Rupert turned to Julia, who turned her back on him.

  “Julia …”

  “We should never have come back to the Castle, Rupert.”

  “I did what I thought was best.”

  “I know,” said Julia tiredly. “It’s not your fault.”

  Rupert took her gently by the arm and turned her round to face him. “Julia; I didn’t save you from the demons just to lose you to my brother. Now let’s get out of here. I’m tired, and I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”

  Julia studied him a moment, and then smiled reluctantly. “It has been a long day, hasn’t it? Let’s go.”

  “Excuse me,” said Harald, moving elegantly forward to block their way. “But if anyone is to escort the Princess Julia to her chambers, it should be me. I mean to say, dammit, she is my fiancè.”

  “Harald.” said Rupert calmly, “I am not in the mood for this kind of nonsense. I rarely am in the mood, and take it from me, right now I am less in the mood than ever before, if that’s possible. So get out of my way or I’ll feed you a knuckle sandwich. Even worse, I might let Julia do it.”

  Harald looked at Julia thoughtfully. She smiled sweetly at him, and let her hand rest casually on the pommel of her sword. Harald bowed to her, and then smiled politely at Rupert.

  “How brave you’ve grown, Rupert, now you’ve a dragon to back you up. Assuming you survive your journey to the Dark Tower, do hurry back; I want you to be best man at my wedding.” He grinned as Rupert flushed angrily. “I thought you’d like that, Rupert. I’ll see you tomorrow, Julia; we have so much to … discuss.”

  He stepped back, bowed to them both, and swept majestically out of the Court. Rupert and Julia watched him go.

  “Nice brother you’ve got there,” said Julia. “Really knows how to twist the knife.”

  “Yes,” said Rupert. “Still, we mustn’t be too hard on him. He hasn’t got long to live.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because one of these days I’m going to kill him.”

  Julia chuckled earthily. “Can I help?”

  They laughed together, and then went to awaken the sleeping dragon. Rupert called to him, yelled in his ear, and even rapped on the creature’s bony forehead with his fist, but the two thin plumes of smoke rising from the dragon’s nostrils didn’t even waver. Rupert sighed, walked round to the rear of the dragon, took careful aim, and delivered a mighty kick. The dragon slowly opened his eyes, and Rupert jumped up and down for a while holding his foot in both hands. The dragon rose grumpily to his feet and peered blearily around him.

  “Julia; where is everybody?”

  “They’ve all left.”

  “Pity; I was just starting to feel a little peckish. Why is Rupert hopping up and down and muttering to himself?”

  “I think it’s some kind of folk dance,” said Julia solemnly.

  “Oh,” said the dragon doubtfully. He studied Rupert carefully, and then looked away. “Where’s the unicorn?”

  “Hiding,” said a melancholy voice from behind a hanging arras. “Every time Rupert has to speak to his family he ends up in a foul temper, and he takes it out on me.”

  “Get out of there, unicorn,” snapped Rupert, hobbling over to lean on Julia.

  “See what I mean?” said the unicorn, emerging cautiously from behind the tapestry. “If you’ve run out of people to upset, Sire, could we perhaps go now? In case it slipped your attention, we haven’t eaten since first thing this morning, and my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”

  “Of course,” said Rupert. “I’ll get you all the grass you can eat.”

  “Oh, whoopee,” said the unicorn.

  They headed for the shattered doorway, Rupert still leaning companiably on Julia.

  “Just my luck,” muttered the unicorn.

  “What?” asked Rupert.

  “All that effort I put into practicing my limp, and nobody even mentioned it.”

  Rupert and Julia looked at each other, spluttered with laughter, and led the dragon and the no-longer-limping unicorn out of the Court.

  King John watched the last of the dragon’s tail slither out the doorway, and then he sighed wearily and sank back in his throne. Thomas Grey lowered himself cautiously onto the steps leading up to the throne. His knees cracked loudly as he sat down. Both King and Astrologer looked suddenly older.

  “Doesn’t the Court seem larger without Rupert’s friends in it,” said the King.

  Grey laughed. “Not to mention quieter.”

  “I like Julia,” said the King. “She’s got spirit. And Rupert seems to have developed a powerful right hand.”

  “At least he got that idiot Darius off our backs for a while.”

  “Quite,” growled the King. “That’s what you get for making Ministerships hereditary.”

  “Not one of my better ideas,” Grey admitted. He yawned suddenly.

  “Don’t,” said the King. “You’ll start me off, and there’s work to be done yet. At least, I assume there is.”

  “I’m afraid so,” said Grey. “To start with, we’ve got to change all the arrangements for Harald’s wedding.”

  King John closed his eyes and groaned loudly. “As if they weren’t costing enough all ready.”

  “And we’ve got to work out some way of politely informing Baron Oakeshoff that Harald isn’t going to marry his daughter after all.”

  “Pity about that,” said the King. “Now the Barons will be more trouble than ever. Have we had any taxes from them yet?”

  “Not a penny,” said the Astrologer. “They’re not going to pay up as long as they think they can get away with it, and we can’t use the Royal Guard to persuade them until the demons stop attacking us.”

  “And the Champion expects them to give me an army,” sighed the King.

  “Politics never was his strong point.”

  “He’s loyal to the throne,” said King John. “That’s why I made him Champion. Do you know, Thomas; after all these years he still makes me nervous. There’s something almost inhuman about a loyalty that’s never questioned. He’s killed over a hundred men at my command, and never once asked why.”

  “When a Champion starts asking questions, it’s time to get a new Champion,” said Grey dryly.

  The King laughed, but there was little humor in the sound. “Life wasn’t always this complicated. Do you remember when I first came to the throne, Thomas?”

  “Aye, John; must be all of thirty-five years since the High Warlock placed that crown on your head. In those days there was still gold in the coffers, the Barons knew their place, and the Darkwood was just a patch of ink on the maps, little more than a legend.”

  “A long time ago, Thomas.” The King tugged pensively at his straggling gray beard. “Where did it all start to go wrong? I’ve done my best down the years, but for every problem I solved two more sprang up to take its place. When I came to power, the Forest Kingdom was a rich land, a healthy land; a power to be reckoned with. We had such plans, you and I … Now look at us; two old men fighting our own Barons just to hold the Land together.

  -->