Once In a Blue Moon

by Simon R. Green

  Without moving a muscle, all of the young warriors did their best to give the impression that such a thought had never entered their minds. Hawk had to smile. Even as a small child Gillian had drilled her dolls mercilessly, refighting old battles with them. She even buried some of them, if only so her mother would have to buy her new ones. It seemed some things hadn’t changed.

  Gillian led the way back into the Sorting House. She marched along like the soldier she still was but kept the pace down as a courtesy to the rest of her family. The honour guard . . . kept their distance. Everyone in the house’s courtyard stopped what they were doing to watch them pass, but no one said anything. Hawk kept a careful eye on everyone. There were young men and women paired in duels, with all kinds of weapons; more people in full armour, riding back and forth on horseback; and long rows of targets for those learning archery. They all looked very busy, very proficient. None of them seemed at all pleased to see Hawk and his companions. Gillian ignored everyone, taking her guests inside the Sorting House and straight to her private quarters by the most direct route.

  Once inside the house lobby, she dismissed her honour guard, told an inquiring officer type to piss off and mind his own damned business, and led Hawk and Fisher, Jack and Chappie, down a series of narrow stone corridors to her quarters. Which turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Nicely padded furniture, rugs and carpets from foreign lands, and lots of weapons displayed on the walls, ready for use. There weren’t enough chairs, so Gillian went out and got some from the next room. There were a few raised voices, immediately cut short, and then Gillian came back with extra chairs. She got everyone settled, put food on the table from her own private supplies, some of it quite exotic, and even managed a bone for Chappie to gnaw on.

  “I’ll bet Jack never gave you a bone, when you visited his spartan home,” Gillian said gruffly.

  “No,” said Chappie. “I had to bite off a bandit’s leg to get something to chew on.”

  Gillian looked at the dog, and then at the others. “He’s not kidding, is he?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” said Hawk. “The years have not mellowed our family dog. Or your mother either.”

  Fisher snorted with laughter, and elbowed Hawk in the ribs.

  “And that really was a dragon, flying overhead?” said Gillian. “It’s been so long since anyone’s seen one in the Forest Land, we had to go look up what species it was in the Big Book of Unnatural Flying Things.”

  “He’s an old friend,” said Fisher.

  “The one from all the legends, in the Demon War,” said Gillian. She sniffed at Jack. “You never believed any of those stories, when we were kids. I always believed.”

  “I have been known to be wrong about things, on occasion,” said Jack. “How about you, dear sister? Any sins you’d like to confess?”

  “That’ll be the day,” said Gillian. “You couldn’t handle my sins.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Jack, grinning suddenly. “I’ve been around.”

  “Anyway,” Hawk said loudly, “what have you been doing, Gillian? Your mother and I rather lost track of you after you left the Forest to go down to the Southern Kingdoms.”

  “That was the point,” said Gillian. “I wanted to make my own life, without your reputation peering over my shoulder all the time. And you did make Haven sound very . . . interesting. I had a good time down there. The city port was just as big a moral cesspit as you always said, and there was no shortage of bad guys to go after. Always something to do in Haven, usually of a violent nature. I signed up for the City Guard, just like you, and had the time of my life, tracking down and smiting evildoers. Made Captain in no time. They still remember you, you know. You’re legends in Haven: the only honest Guard Captains. I like to think I was honest too, in my own brutal and unforgiving way.

  “When I got too old to work the streets, I came back here. And found the Brotherhood of Steel had moved in while I was away. Just what I was looking for—a whole organisation based on the idea of hitting people. I joined up to train the next generation of fighters, and found I made a much better teacher than I ever was a fighter. Imagine my surprise.” She looked from Hawk to Fisher and back again. “I’m seventy-two, and in good shape for my age, but you don’t look a day older than when Jack and I were children. It’s a bit creepy, to be honest.”

  “It’s still us, Gillian,” said Hawk. “I’m still your dad.”

  “And you’re still our daughter,” said Fisher.

  “I walked out on you,” said Gillian. She couldn’t look them in the eye. “Never even said goodbye, because I thought . . . if I told you what I was going to do, you’d try to stop me. And I was determined not to be stopped. So I just left. Did you miss me?”

  “Of course your mum and I missed you,” said Hawk. “But we of all people knew . . . that the bird has to leave the nest if she’s ever going to fly.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” said Gillian, her voice just a bit unsteady. “So sorry, Mum.”

  “We are not an ordinary family,” Hawk said kindly. “Your mother and I always knew our children were never going to lead ordinary lives.”

  Gillian nodded quickly. “Why are you here now?”

  “Have you heard from Nathanial recently?” said Fisher.

  “Not recently, no,” said Gillian. “Why?”

  “The Demon Prince appeared to us, inside the Millennium Oak,” said Hawk. “To tell us our grandchildren were in danger. Unless your mother and I returned to the Forest Land to save them. He also had much to say about death and war and horror, all in the near future. So we’re going back to Forest Castle, as Hawk and Fisher. Jack’s with us. How about you?”

  “Of course,” Gillian said immediately. “Nathanial’s currently working at the Castle. Just like Jack’s daughter, Mercy.”

  Hawk and Fisher looked at each other.

  “I sense Fate and Destiny at work, the sneaky bastards,” said Hawk.

  “Really?” said Fisher. “I sense the Demon Prince, plotting his dark little heart out again.”

  “I used to have nightmares about him,” said Gillian. “When I was just a kid. Used to think he was hiding in the shadows at the foot of my bed, every night. Watching, and waiting . . .”

  Jack nodded. “I never really believed he was real, but that didn’t stop me being afraid of him.”

  “Why has he come back now?” said Gillian.

  “Because it’s been a hundred years since the Demon War,” said Jack. “Evil does so love to commemorate anniversaries. As a Transient Being, a concept given flesh and blood and material form, the Demon Prince has no reality, as such. He is therefore bound by rules and traditions, always repeating old actions in the hope of a new and different outcome. And he bears grudges, because he is incapable of forgetting or learning from the past.” He broke off and smiled at the others. “There’s lots of reading to do in a monastery.”

  Hawk had no idea what to say to any of that, so he turned to Gillian. “Are you going to need some time, to give in your notice to the Sorting House, and the Brotherhood of Steel?”

  “Hell, no,” said Gillian. “Come and go as I please. In fact, they’ll probably be glad to see the back of me.”

  • • •

  Gillian gathered up her few personal possessions and equipped herself with a whole bunch of nasty and efficient weapons. But when they went back out into the courtyard, it seemed like the whole Sorting House had emptied itself out to block her way. The entire staff and student population had turned out, to stand between Gillian and the exit. They stood spread out in ranks, ready and watchful, most of them armed. Gillian glared about her, her hand dropping to the great sword at her hip, and a great many watching faces went pale. Among the staff, as well as the students. For a long, uncomfortable moment everyone just stood and stared at everyone else; and then everyone jumped, just a bit, as a loud cracking sound broke the silence. Everyone looked at Chappie, who’d just broken the bone he’d been chewing on in half, in his powerful j
aws. He opened his mouth, to let the two pieces fall to the ground, and gave everyone a hard look.

  “We are all going to be very civilised about this. Aren’t we?” he said, loudly and meaningfully. “You are facing legends here, and don’t you forget it.”

  Everyone looked at the talking dog, and gave every indication of being very upset. Gillian stabbed an accusing finger at one particular member of the staff, a large and muscular sort in his late forties, in full ceremonial armour. He had a scarred face and a great mane of red hair. Everything about him suggested a powerful and experienced warrior, but he still flinched under Gillian’s gaze.

  “Wendover!” said Gillian. “What’s this all about?”

  “We heard you were thinking of leaving,” said Wendover, with great dignity and authority. “You must know you can’t do that.”

  “Watch me,” said Gillian.

  “You can’t just walk out!” said Wendover. “You’re one of the best teachers and trainers we’ve ever had! You have a contract with the Brotherhood!”

  “Show it to me,” said Gillian. “So I can rip it up and throw the pieces in your face!”

  “She was just the same as a child,” said Fisher, to no one in particular.

  Wendover stepped forward out of the crowd and faced Gillian unflinchingly. “You know the deal, Gillian. Once in, never out. You swore to serve the Brotherhood of Steel for life.”

  “I swore to serve God forever,” said Jack. “But family comes first. Family . . . matters.”

  “Windy,” said Gillian, “what is it, really?”

  Jack blinked. “Windy? Really?”

  “Shut up, Jack,” said Gillian.

  Wendover looked at the ground before him, and then at her. “You can’t just go, Gill. What would I do without you?”

  “Silly old thing,” said Gillian affectionately. “I’m not abandoning you. Just taking a short leave of absence.”

  “Oh,” said Wendover. “Well, I suppose that’s all right then.”

  “No, it isn’t!” said another member of the staff, pushing forward to glare at both Gillian and Wendover. “A contract is a contract! You break your word, and all these young fools will think they can run off too, whenever the going gets rough! You’re not going anywhere. You really think you can stand against all of us?”

  He was a tall, bulky fellow in heavy armour, with a flat, flushed face and cold eyes. Just looking at him, you knew he’d never backed down from a fight in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now. Gillian sniffed loudly.

  “You always were a horse’s arse, Pendleton. And yes, I do think I can stand against all of you, because I trained all of you! And I am not alone.”

  Everyone looked up sharply as a great shadow fell across the entire courtyard, covering everybody. The dragon dropped out of the sky, out of nowhere, and hovered above them all, his great outspread wings barely moving as he hung some ten feet or so over their heads. He shouldn’t have been able to hover like that, thirty feet of very bulky dragon; but he was, after all, a magical creature. With glowing golden eyes and a grinning mouth just jammed full of really impressive teeth. Several young warriors fainted. Others dropped their swords, and a few started crying quietly. Gillian glared at them.

  “Stop that! And pick up those swords! I trained you better than this! You’re part of the Brotherhood of Steel, dammit. It’s only a dragon!”

  “How about we provide you with maps and provisions,” Wendover said carefully, “so you can get to where you’re going faster, and come back to us sooner?”

  “How very sensible,” said Gillian. “That all right with you, Pendleton?”

  But Pendleton was standing very still, staring up at the hovering dragon with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. Wendover gave some quick orders to the nearest students, and they rushed back inside the main building. Everyone smiled politely at everyone else, while the dragon continued to hover. Hawk beamed at Fisher.

  “Doesn’t it make a wonderful change, to deal with reasonable people?”

  “We could have taken them,” said Fisher.

  • • •

  Later that night, in another clearing somewhat closer to the Forest Castle, they all sat around a blazing camp-fire, catching up on family life. The dragon had hoped to make the Castle before nightfall, but even though he was feeling fresh and young again, the Forest Land was a lot bigger than he remembered, and he couldn’t be sure of getting there before darkness fell. So he landed in one last clearing, let everyone off, and disappeared into the surrounding woods in search of something slow and stupid. He soon was back, tossing a meaty bone to Chappie and a much larger haunch of meat to the others. After they’d all eaten as much as they could stand, they sat around talking quietly as the last of the light went out of the day. The moon seemed a lot larger in the sky overhead, and the stars shone fiercely in the night, as though they were watching. The dragon lay curled around everyone, putting his huge green body between them and the shadows beyond the firelight.

  “Why did you never want to meet your grandchildren?” Jack said finally, after they’d talked through all the safer subjects.

  “It seemed for the best,” Hawk said carefully. “We made a decision, your mother and I, after you and Gillian wrote to us saying you had children of your own now. We decided it was better to have no contact at all, with Mercy and Nathanial. For their sake.”

  “We thought it advisable to maintain a safe distance,” said Fisher, poking the fire with a stick so she wouldn’t have to look at Jack or Gillian. “To keep from overshadowing their lives. You had it hard enough, when we were just thought of as heroes. By the time Mercy and Nathanial came along, we were myths and legends. We wanted them to have their own lives.”

  “I managed,” said Gillian. “And Jack.”

  “Did you?” said Hawk. “You went all the way down to Haven, to live the lives we lived. And Jack had to become the Walking Man to make his mark.”

  “That’s not why I did it,” said Jack quietly.

  “We saw what we did to you,” Hawk said firmly. “And we were determined not to let anything like that happen to our grandchildren.”

  “So we stayed away,” said Fisher.

  Jack shook his head slowly. “You always were too honourable for your own good.”

  “Look who’s talking,” said Gillian.

  “And,” said Fisher, “as long as no one knew they were our grandchildren, no one could ever use them as weapons against us. Or vice versa.”

  “So,” said Gillian. “All for their own good. Nothing at all to do with you needing to hide your true identities from the world?”

  “Oh, that too,” said Hawk. “We’ve always been able to be practical, when we have to. We did try to keep an eye on them, and on you, from a safe distance; but it’s a lot harder to get your hands on reliable magics these days.”

  “And that’s why I didn’t hear from you for decades?” said Jack.

  “There is such a thing as letters,” said Gillian.

  “Letters can be intercepted,” said Fisher.

  “We had to turn our backs on our old lives to have new lives,” said Hawk. “Rupert and Julia are part of myth and legend now. Let them stay that way.”

  “People would only be upset and disappointed if they met the real thing,” said Fisher.

  “I don’t know,” said Gillian. “They’re still talking about Captains Hawk and Fisher, in Haven.”

  “It’s not like you needed us,” said Hawk. “You’ve lived . . . successful lives of your own.”

  “Children always need their parents,” said Gillian, looking into the fire.

  “I don’t suppose you missed me?” said Chappie.

  “No,” said Jack.

  “Not in the least,” said Gillian.

  And then they both laughed, and took it in turns to make a big fuss of him.

  “I can’t believe you’re still alive, dog,” said Jack. “You were old when I was just a kid, and now look at you!”

&nb
sp; “Distinguished is the word you’re looking for,” said Chappie. “I am older than both of you put together, and that’s in dog years. The High Warlock did good work.”

  “Jack,” Hawk said carefully, “what happened to your wife, Amelia?”

  “She left me,” said Jack. “After I became the Walking Man. I don’t blame her. I was . . . very caught up in myself, for some time there. Afterwards, after I’d given it all up, I did try to find her . . . if only to tell her she’d been right all along. But she’d put a lot of time and effort into disappearing. She didn’t want to be found. So I went to the Abbey of Saint Augustine. A lot of people who knew both of us knew where I was. She could have found me if she’d wanted to. I hope she’s still out there, somewhere. I hope she’s happy.”

  “Your daughter might know,” said Fisher.

  Jack shrugged. It was his turn to stare into the fire, rather than face his parents. “Mercy might know any number of things. I never asked. I didn’t want her to have to choose which parent to be true to. She was always closer to her mother than I was . . .”

  “And Matthew?” said Hawk.

  “He died,” said Jack. “Some time back.”

  “Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry,” said Fisher.

  “I’m not,” said Jack.

  “Don’t ask me where or even who Nathanial’s father might be,” Gillian said briskly. “Could have been any one of a dozen men. I never cared enough to find out. I always was generous with my affections.”

  Hawk looked at Fisher. “She didn’t get that from me.”

  “Don’t start,” said Fisher.

  Chappie sniggered.

  “So, is it true?” said Gillian, grinning at her mother. “Is it true what they say in some of the songs? That you slept with Uncle Harald before you got together with Dad? That is so . . . icky!”

  “See what you’ve started,” Fisher said to Hawk. “It was during the war, Gillian. We were all in a dark place . . . I thought I’d lost your father. Things happen.”