Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

Warlock's fingers writhed through a series of intricate movements too fast for Rupert to follow, and then the pain in his shoulder was suddenly gone. Rupert twisted his head round, and watched in amazement as the splintered bone in the open wound knit itself together again. The wound closed over it, and within seconds nothing remained but a long white scar. Rupert stared at it breathlessly for a moment, and then cautiously flexed his arm. It worked fine. A slow grin spread across Rupert's face as he worked his arm again and again. It felt great. The Warlock chuckled quietly, and a full wine glass appeared in his hand from nowhere.
    'Drink this. It'll do you good.'
    Rupert sniffed the cloudy white wine suspiciously, and then gulped the stuff down. It tasted even worse than it smelled, and it smelled ' pretty bad. He shook his head quickly, and handed the glass back.
    'A very poor vintage, sir Warlock.'
    The High Warlock grinned, and the glass disappeared from his hand in a puff of brimstone smoke. 'You should taste what it's like before I dissolve it in wine. It'll help replace the blood you've lost, and clear some of the toxins from your system, but right now what you need more than anything is a good night's sleep. Go and get some. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time I had a word with your father. We've a lot to discuss.
    He hesitated, as though considering whether to say something further, and then he turned and walked back into the entrance hall. Rupert lay back on the marble steps, luxuriating in the wonderful peace that follows a release from pain. He tried his left arm again. His shoulder seemed a bit stiff, and the new scar tissue tugged uncomfortably with every movement, but all in all Rupert decided he felt better than he had in months. A pleasant lethargy flowed through him, and he was sorely tempted just to lie back and go to sleep right there on the steps, but he knew he couldn't do that. Sleeping on cold marble would leave him good for nothing when he finally woke up. He sighed regretfully, and tempted himself with thoughts of a steaming hot bath, to be followed by a soft bed in a warm room. Heaven. Sheer heaven. He rose slowly to his feet, sheathed his sword, stretched and yawned, and finally started up the steps to the main entrance. After all the many months, he was actually going to sleep in civilised surroundings again. And anyone who got in his way would live just long enough to regret it.
    The constant fear and oppression of the Darkwood gradually diminished as Rupert made his way deeper into the Castle, putting layer after layer of thick stone walls between him and the long night. It was a long trek back to his chambers in the North-West Tower, but somehow the anticipation made it all worthwhile. After so long a time away, it felt good to be back among familiar sights and sounds, and yet Rupert found himself frowning more and more as new, ominous changes caught his eye. The refugees were everywhere, spilling out of their quarters into the corridors and passageways. Most of them just watched blankly from where they sat as Rupert passed, their eyes listless and empty. It was the children who got to Rupert the most; they sat where their parents put them, and watched the shadows around them with wide, frightened eyes. Rupert recognised the signs; they'd been in the Darkwood too long, and the long night had set its mark upon them. He tried to talk to some of the children, but they turned away
    from him, and would not be comforted.
    Roaring fires blazed in every fireplace, filling the air with more sooty smoke than the over-worked air vents could hope to handle, and yet still the Castle corridors remained cold and bleak, and light whorls of hoarfrost pearled the ancient stone walls. Wherever Rupert went, the passageways and common rooms were only dimly lit. Forest Castle had always depended on the foxfire moss for its light, and now there was none; the bitter frosts of the winter come early had seen to that. There were still torches and oil lamps, but their uncertain light filled the narrow stone corridors with too many unquiet shadows.
    A few minor courtiers came and walked with Rupert awhile, filling him in on the latest news and gossip, and sketching out some of the things that had happened while he was away. Rupert listened unbelievingly as they told him of the abortive rebellion and its consequences, but he wasn't in the mood for conversation. Finally, they started telling him things he didn't