Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

ground, and the broken earth grew still.
    There is power in this sword, thought the King slowly. Power to break and reshape the earth itself.
    Power that could level mountains, or raise up new ones. Rockbreaker.
    And it wasn't until later that he remembered how many of his own people had died under that power.
    The demons died in their hundreds under the three Infernal Devices, and still they came swarming out of the darkness. The army cume to the bank of the moat, and there made its stand, as best it could. The Castle drawbridge was raised, and would not be lowered until the King called the retreat. Of the five hundred and fifty men and women who had followed King John out of the castle, less than a hundred now remained. The lancers were gone, pulled down and slaughtered in the first few minutes. Most of the farmers and traders and townspeople were dead, along with half the guards and men-at-arms. The survivors now huddled together in a single defiant knot at the edge of the frozen moat, and swung their crimson blades with savage desperation. The demons were everywhere, filling the night, and there were always more to replace those who died.
    Rupert swayed tiredly in his saddle, and almost fell. He caught himself just in time, and took a firmer hold on the reins. His muscles ached fiercely, and his head was swimming with fatigue, but still he continued to fight. At first he thought of his duty, and then of survival, but finally he carried on fighting simply because he was damned if he'd give in to the darkness. He'd been beaten many times before, but he'd never once given in, and he wasn't about to start now. He could see the Champion to his left, standing at the head of the army and swinging his massive war axe like a toy. There was no sign of his war charger, and his armour was rent and bloodied, but the swarming demons broke about him like the pounding surf on a rocky shore, unable to wear him down. Rupert supposed he ought to find the sight inspiring, but somehow he was just too damn tired to care.
    The ice covering the moat suddenly exploded, as the moat monster roared up out of the freezing waters.
    Forty feet long from jaws to tail, it snatched up the nearest demon threatening Rupert, and tore it to pieces. The moat monster's vicious jaws gaped wide as it threw back its gargoyle head and howled a challenge to the darkness. Its long scaly body bulged with thick cables of muscle, and the earth of the moat's bank seemed to sink a little under the monster's immense weight. It glanced quickly at Rupert to make sure he was all right, and then threw itself at the demons. Its foot-long claws and rending fangs ripped through the demons in a flurry of blood and gore.
    So that's what the moat monster looks like,thought Rupert. I often wondered. He's certainly . . .
    impressive.
    A demon sprang out of the darkness, and Rupert gutted it in midair. It grabbed at his buckler as it fell, and Rupert had to cut the shield free from his arm before the demon's weight could drag him out of his saddle. Something with steaming blood-red eyes came flying out of the shadows and slammed into his chest, almost throwing him from the saddle. The creature clung to his chain-mail vest with a dozen legs, and snapped at his unprotected throat. Rupert brought up his left arm to guard his throat, and the demon sank its jaws into his flesh, biting clean through to the bone. Rupert groaned, and tried to reach the creature with his sword, but it clung too closely to his chest, its jaws locked on his arm. Other demons were quick to spot his vulnerability, and came racing towards him out of the night. Rupert tried again to lift his sword, but all he could think of was the awful, tearing pain in his left arm.
    And then the Champion's axe came out of nowhere and sliced clean through the demon's guts. Its jaw relaxed as it died, and Rupert was finally able to tear his arm free. He looked round to thank the Champion, but the press of the fighting had already carried him away.
    For a moment Rupert found himself in a quiet part of the battle, and he took advantage of the lull to
    check his injured arm. White shreds of splintered bone showed clearly in the wound, but he could still move his fingers. Rupert gritted his teeth against the pain, and slipped his left arm under his sword belt, pulling the belt tight to hold the arm securely. Not much of a sling, but it would have to do. I'm not having much luck with this arm , he thought shakily. That's another