Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

years. Harald looked away, unable to meet Rupert's gaze any longer. Without really knowing why, Harald was suddenly frightened. Death seemed to hang about Rupert like a shroud, as though he had brought something of the endless night with him into the brightly lit Court. Or perhaps it was simply that his eyes held more pain and horror than any man should ever have had to face. Harald started to shiver, and found he couldn't stop. He tried to concentrate on what the King and the Warlock were arguing about, and ignored the cold sweat beading his forehead.
    'We can't hide behind these walls for ever!' shouted the King. 'If we don't take the battle to the demons, it won't be long before they come looking for us!'
    'You're either mad, or blind,' growled the High Warlock. 'You're talking as though the Forest was still under siege from the Darkwood. Get used to the idea, John. The Forest is gone. There's nothing left but the night. Outside these walls there's no light, no life, nothing hut the dark, and the demons that live in it.
    And there are an awful lot of demons in the dark. The creatures of the night outnumber any force you could hope to put together by more than a thousand to one. Anyone who leaves this Castle isn't coming back. Ever.'
    'So what are we supposed to do?' demanded the King tightly. 'Hide in our little bolt hole while the dark grows even stronger? Wait until the Demon Prince himself comes to fetch us? I don't have enough men to guard the Castle walls as it is. It's only a matter of time before the demons come swarming over the walls and slaughter us all!'
    'I need time,' said the Warlock. 'There are spells I can use, spells that should drive the demons back, but they take time to put together. Surely you can hold off the dark just a little longer?'
    'What with?' howled the King, his face mottled with angry patches of red. 'My men are dying. I'm running out of food, water, firewood . . . if the demons were to storm us right now, I couldn't be sure we'd throw them back. You've got to do something, damn you! You're the High Warlock! Do something, or we're all dead!'
    'It's always me, isn't it? It always comes down to me, and my magic. Did you ever stop to think that just possibly I get bloody tired of having to clean up your messes for you? Just once, why don't you try taking responsibility for your own foul-ups? You know, you haven't changed a bit, John. You sit on your damn throne and mumble and dither until things get really out of hand, and then I'm supposed to step in and put everything right again, just like that! Never mind I've got my own life to lead. Never mind how much I have to risk my life in the process. Well this time we're going to do things my way. I'm not putting my neck on the chopping block just because you're too impatient to wait!'
    'I'm your King! I order you ...'
    'You can take your order and—'
    'Shut up!' Rupert's sudden roar cut across their voices, bringing them both up short. Silence descended on the Court. A courtier standing beside Rupert opened his mouth to say something, and found himself staring with horrified fascination at the sword point pressing lightly against his belly.
    'One more word from anybody,' said Rupert quietly, 'and I'll gut them.'
    Everybody looked at his determined face, and the blood-smeared sword in his hand, and quickly decided he might just mean it. Rupert stared about him at the silent, watchful Court, and grinned tightly.
    'Now that I've got your attention, perhaps we can discuss the situation calmly, instead of screaming and shouting and running around like a chicken that's just had its head chopped off.'
    He sheathed his sword, and a quiet sigh of relief travelled round the Court, not least from the courtier Rupert had used to make his point.
    'You're learning, Sire,' said the Champion approvingly.
    Rupert looked round and wasn't particularly surprised to find the Champion standing just behind him.
    Rupert nodded politely to him, and turned away. He wasn't altogether sure how much support he could depend on from the Champion, now that their mission was over, but for the moment at least it seemed he had an ally in his father's Court. If only because they both disliked the courtiers so much . . . Rupert stepped forward a pace, and bowed curtly to his father. The King stared at him for a long moment, his face and cold steady gaze giving nothing away.
    'I thought you were dead,' he said finally. 'After so many months, and no word of you from anyone, I