Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

unspoken on her lips as she stared around her.
    The courtyard was a slaughterhouse, with the dead and the dying and the wounded lying side by side.
    Some of the army survivors just lay where they had fallen, too tired or too shocked by what they'd heen through to move, even for food or water or help for their injuries. A few servants moved among the wounded, helping where they could, and women and children guarded the Castle battlements with improvised weapons.
    High above the courtyard, the Blue Moon stared pitilessly down from the starless night, and outside the gates the demons beat unceasingly against the shuddering oaken doors.
    King John got slowly to his feet, picked up Rockbreaker, and sheathed the sword without even looking at it. For all their legendary power, the Infernal Devices had been no match for the Darkwood. Now two of the blades were lost, and he had nothing left to set against the endless night. It's all over , he thought slowly. We've lost. I tried everything I could think of, and we still lost . For a moment he wanted to run away and hide, to barricade himself in his quarters and wait till the demons came for him, but he
    knew he couldn't do that. He was the King, and he had to set an example. Even if there was no point to it any more. He nodded brusquely to Harald as his son approached, and then the two of them turned to look at Rupert and Julia.
    'How is he?' asked the King, and then had to fight not to look away as he realised the extent of Rupert's injuries.
    'He looks bad,' said Harald, and Julia rounded on him fiercely.
    'You left him out there to die, you bastard!'
    Harald met her furious gaze calmly. 'If the demons had got past him, we'd never have been able to close the doors in time. By holding the demons back, even if only for a few minutes, Rupert helped to save the lives of everyone in this Castle. He knew he didn't stand a chance when he went out into the Keep, but he also knew his duty. My duty was to get the gates closed, so that his sacrifice wouldn't have been in vain. I did what was right, Julia. I did what was necessary.'
    'You always do, Harald,' said the King. He knelt painfully beside Julia, and put an arm round her shoulders.
    'There must be something we can do,' pleaded Julia. 'We've got to do something. He's dying!'
    'Yes,' said King John softly. 'I think he is. It was a brave stand, while it lasted. The bravest thing I've ever seen.'
    'You can't die!' shouted Julia, and taking Rupert by the shoulders, she shook him desperately. 'Wake up, damn you, I won't let you die!'
    Harald and the King tried gently to pull her away, and she fought them.
    'Let me through,' said a tired voice, and Julia stopped struggling and looked round as she recognised the High Warlock's voice.
    'Help him! You're a sorcerer, help him!'
    'If I can, lass.' The Warlock moved slowly forward, walking carefully and deliberately, like an old man whose bones pained him. Julia realised with something of a shock that the Warlock was an old man. The hair that had been jet black was now a dirty grey streaked with white, and his face had sunk back to the bone, the flesh heavily lined and wrinkled. His hands were gnarled and twisted, and they trembled constantly as he held them over Rupert's bloodied chest. A brilliant light flared briefly at the Warlock's fingertips, and Rupert's wounds knit gradually together. The bleeding slowed and stopped, and Rupert's face relaxed a little, but he didn't waken. The High Warlock nodded grimly, and turned to Julia. She felt a warm glow move swiftly through her body, and then it vanished, taking her pains with it. Only her tiredness remained; that, and the bone-deep despair that tore at her heart every time she remembered how close she'd come to losing Rupert.
    'Is that it?' she asked the Warlock anxiously. 'Will he be all right?'
    'I don't know, Julia. There's not much magic left in me now, but I've done all I can for him.'
    'What happened to your magic during the battle?' growled the King.
    'We were betrayed,' said the Warlock simply. 'Just before the gates opened, a servant appeared with several jugs of wine, and presented them to us with your compliments. We were all very touched at the gesture, so we joked and laughed and drank you a toast. Several toasts, in fact. There was enough poison in that wine to kill an army My magic was strong enough to throw off the effects, eventually, but the others never stood a chance. They started to fall just after the gates opened,