Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

but since no one dares travel by night, it's a slow process. Too slow. Every night we lose more men. The demons have grown . . . cunning.'
    'Yes,' said Rupert quietly, remembering. 'They hunt in packs now.'
    'That's not possible,' said the Champion flatly.
    'Bull,' said Julia. 'I saw it with my own eyes.'
    'Demons don't co-operate,' the Champion insisted, ignoring Julia.
    'They do now,' said Rupert. 'Why have you sealed the Castle?'
    'Demons have been here,' said the Champion. 'When night falls, they appear at the clearing's edge, watching from the shadows, their eyes glowing in the night like coals. So far they've made no move against the Castle, but every night there are more. It's as though they're . . . waiting for something.'
    Rupert bit his lower lip thoughtfully. If the Darkwood was still several months away, what were demons doing so far ahead of the darkness? And where were they hiding during the day? He shook his head slowly in disgust.
    'Since I've had the most recent experience of the Darkwood, I suppose that makes me an expert ... I'd better see my father.'
    'Yes, Sire. The Court is waiting. With respect, sire, don't expect too much. Every faction in the Court seems to have its own plan for dealing with the Darkwood, none of them worth a damn. Your father listens to all of them, which is why nothing's been done. Try to make him understand, Sire; there are
    decisions that must be made. He can't go on putting them off.'
    Rupert stared at the Champion thoughtfully. He was being set up for something; he could tell. The last time everyone started calling him 'Sire', he'd ended up travelling through the Darkwood in search of a dragon.
    'Where's Harald?' he asked suspiciously. 'He's always been the practical one of the family.'
    The Champion shrugged. 'I don't think your brother really believes in the Darkwood.'
    Rupert snorted. 'I'll change his bloody mind for him. All right, take me to the Court. No, wait a minute; I've a bone to pick with you. That guard at the gatehouse—'
    'Has been replaced,' said the Champion. 'Now, Sire, I think we've wasted enough time here. The Court is waiting.'
    'Let them,' said the dragon. 'I want a word with you.'
    His massive head swung down till the great golden eyes were on a level with the Champion's. The armed escort fell back in disarray, but the Champion stood his ground.
    'Rupert is my friend,' said the dragon. 'You threatened to kill him.' Bright sparks glowed suddenly in the dragon's nostrils, and two thin plumes of smoke drifted up on the still evening air. The Champion didn't move a muscle.
    'I have my duty,' he said steadily.
    To hell with your duty,' said the dragon.
    The Champion glanced at Rupert, who was watching the scene with undisguised glee. All his life he'd walked in the Champion's shadow, knowing he lived or died at that man's whim. Now the shoe was on the other foot, and he intended to enjoy it while it lasted. The Champion took in Rupert's grin, and turned reluctantly back to the dragon.
    'If anything happens to Rupert,' said the dragon, 'I'll level this Castle to the ground. Got it?'
    'Got it,' said the Champion. 'Anyone ever tell you your breath stinks of sulphur?'
    'Dragon!' said Rupert quickly, as the creature's claws flexed ominously. 'I appreciate the thought, but much as I hate to admit it, we need him.'
    'Thank you,' said the Champion, dryly.
    The dragon glared at the Champion a moment longer, and then pulled back his head. Smoke continued to seep from his nostrils as he ostentatiously sharpened his claws on a convenient piece of brickwork.
    The Champion glanced at Rupert.
    'I think you'd better teach your pet some manners, Sire.'
    Rupert shrugged. 'When you're thirty feet long and breathe fire, who needs manners? And sir Champion, don't ever call my friend a pet. You might upset him.'
    The dragon smiled widely. The Champion studied the many rows of gleaming serrated teeth, and pointedly turned his back on the dragon.
    'If you're quite ready, Sire, your father . . .'
    'I know,' said Rupert. 'He hates to be kept waiting. Let's go, Julia. Julia?'
    'Over there,' said the unicorn.
    Rupert looked round just in time to see Julia knee a guardsman in the groin and punch out a Lady-in-Waiting.
    Julia had been having an interesting time. Fed up with being ignored by everybody, she'd wandered off on her own to see what there was to see. She hadn't got far before being intercepted by a delicately pretty Lady-in-Waiting in her late thirties, and a