Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

action!' snapped Sir Blays. 'Fine words and promises won't stop the Darkwood. I know I speak for my fellow Landsgraves when I say the Barons will not stand idly by and watch the Forest Land fall into ruin while you dither and prevaricate and do nothing!'
    'I'm doing all I can!'
    'It isn't enough,'said Sir Bedivere. He stepped forward a pace, and the two guardsmen drew their swords. The huge Landsgrave ignored them, his eyes fixed on the king. 'If you won't do what's necessary, there are others who will.'
    'That sounded like a threat,' said the King evenly. 'Perhaps you've forgotten what happened the last time you dared threaten me?'
    'Ah yes,' smiled Sir Guillam. 'Where is Thomas Grey these days? Still hunting for the . . . lost. . .
    Curtana?'
    'It won't find itself!' snapped the King. 'The Astrologer's worked day and night trying to discover who stole the Curtana from my Armoury.'
    'Assuming it was stolen.' Sir Blays stared mockingly at the King. 'You slipped up there, your majesty. It was just a little too convenient that the Sword of Compulsion should vanish into thin air the moment the Armoury was rediscovered, thus putting the Curtana beyond the reach, and control, of the Court.'
    'You tread dangerous ground, my noble Landsgrave.'
    Sir Blays and Sir Guillam smiled, and Sir Bedivere chuckled openly.
    'When you took the Sword of Compulsion for yourself,' said Sir Blays, 'you lost all claim to our loyalty.'
    'We cannot accept such a threat to the Barons,' said Sir Guillam diffidently. 'We therefore demand, in their name, that you hand the Curtana over to us, for ... safe-keeping.'
    'You demand?' King John rose to his feet, shaking with anger. 'You demand nothing in my Court! Now get out, or I'll have you whipped from my sight! Get out!'
    Sir Bedivere laughed softly, and King John shuddered at the barely restrained madness in that laughter.
    'You really shouldn't have done that,' smiled the huge Landsgrave. 'I'll have your heart's blood for this insult.'
    'You dare . . .'
    'There's no Astrologer to protect you now, King John. All that stands between you and me are those two guards. And that isn't going to be enough. Give me your sword, Blays.'
    Sir Blays glanced at Sir Guillam, who hesitated, and then nodded quickly.
    'You'd better get out of here, Sire,' murmured one of the guardsmen. 'We'll hold him as long as we can.'
    King John stared numbly at Sir Blays as he slowly drew his sword.
    'Why are you doing this, Blays? We've known each other more than thirty years ...'
    'Will you please get the hell out of here!' hissed the guardsman. 'You must raise the alarm!'
    'That won't be necessary,' said a quiet voice. 'The King has nothing to fear as long as we are with him.'
    There was the faint whisper of flexing wood, and the King and the three Landsgraves turned to stare dumbly at the farmers as they deftly fitted arrows to their longbows and held them at the ready.
    'How dare you?' whispered Sir Guillam. 'How dare you defy the Barons! I'll have your farms burned for this!'
    The twelve farmers stared steadily back, their arrows strung and ready.
    Sir Bedivere studied them impassively, and then held out his hand to Sir Blays. 'Give me your sword.
    They're just peasants.'
    Sir Blays glanced at the farmers, taking in the cold implacability of their faces, and shook his head slowly.
    'Give me your sword!'
    'No,' said Sir Blays, and he sheathed his sword. 'There's no need for this.'
    For a moment King John thought Sir Bedivere would attack the farmers empty-handed, but Sir Guillam and Sir Blays held his arms and talked quietly and urgently to him, until the killing glare had faded from his eyes. He finally threw off their arms, glared once at the King, and then turned and left the Court. Sir Blays and Sir Guillam followed him out. At the doors, Sir Blays hesitated and looked back.
    'You brought this on yourself, John,' he said quietly, and then he was gone.
    King John sank back into his throne, his heart still racing. There was a general relaxing of breath from the guards and the farmers as they sheathed their swords and put away their arrows, and they glanced at each other respectfully. The King smiled on them all, and inclined his head slightly.
    'Thank you for your support, my friends. I shall not forget this.'
    He settled back in his throne, and rubbed slowly at his aching forehead, not really hearing the farmers'
    muttered replies. King John shook his head slowly. By losing his temper with the Landsgraves, he'd played