Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

dagger from an ancestor's eye.
    Rupert shrugged. They like to keep me waiting; it helps put me in my place.'
    'And you put up with that?'
    Rupert looked at Julia, and then at the unicorn and the dragon.
    'I always used to,' he said thoughtfully, 'but things have changed since then. Dragon ...'
    The dragon looked up from sharpening his claws on a handy suit of armour. 'Yes, Rupert?'
    'See those double doors?'
    'Yes, Rupert.'
    'See how many matchsticks you can make out of them.'
    The dragon studied the doors a moment, and then grinned broadly. He surged to his feet, and reached out to tap the doors with one clawed hand. They shuddered under the dragon's touch, and nodding solemnly, he backed carefully out of the narrow antechamber and turned himself around in the hall outside. Rupert, Julia and the unicorn squeezed themselves into a far corner as the dragon cautiously introduced his rear end into the antechamber. He peered over his shoulder to check his friends were safely out of the line of fire, and then lashed out with a vicious swing of his tail. The doors exploded inwards, splinters flying on the air like grapeshot. Rupert nodded with satisfaction as screams and curses
    erupted from the packed Court. Slam the doors in my face, will they? He grinned, and ducking past the dragon's tail, moved forward to check the damage. One door hung crookedly from its only remaining hinge, while the other had given up the ghost entirely and was lying face down on the floor. Rupert took a deep breath and stepped forward into the gap where the doors had been. The Court's uproar died away to an astonished silence.
    Rupert looked about him. Several hundred assorted courtiers and Ladies-in-Waiting stared back with a fair mixture of fear, outrage and curiosity. Half a hundred foxfire lamps shed their silver glow across the Court, while at the far end of the vast, spacious hall, the last of the evening light fell through gorgeous stained-glass windows on to a massive throne, set high on a raised dais and carved in its entirety from a single block of oak. Sitting on that throne, unruffled and unmoved, was his father, King John IV. The King's great leonine head seemed almost too heavy for his frail body, and his richly patterned robes and proud golden crown couldn't disguise the ragged mop of grey hair and uncombed beard. Even on his better days, Rupert's father still looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. And yet despite the strong impression of age and tiredness that hung about him like an old, familiar cloak, King John carried himself with dignity, and his deep-set eyes were calm and steady.
    At his side stood Thomas Grey, the Court Astrologer. Tall, broad-shouldered, and darkly handsome, the black-clad magician had every aspect of regality save the barest essential: noble birth. Born the son of a blacksmith, he'd been the King's companion since childhood, and on John's ascension to the throne, Thomas Grey had cut short a promising career at the Sorcerers' Academy to return and stand at his friend's side.
    Rupert disliked the man intensely; he smiled too much.
    The courtiers watched with hostile eyes as the Prince moved forward into the Court, his footsteps echoing loudly in the hush. He stopped almost immediately and turned to the Court usher, who was still staring slack-jawed at the ruined doorway.
    'Well, don't just stand there, usher; announce us.'
    'I think they know we're here, Rupert,' said an amused voice behind him. Rupert grinned, but shook his head firmly.
    'That's not the point, Julia. We have to be announced.'
    'I have absolutely no intention of announcing you,' said the usher haughtily. 'You can't come barging in here and ...' His voice died away as the dragon's head peered interestedly over Rupert's shoulder.
    Colour drained from the usher's face as the dragon squeezed his bulk slowly through the door frame, widening it somewhat in the process. The usher swallowed heavily.
    'Announcing you right away, Sire.'
    He stepped hastily forward and, striking his best formal pose, declaimed: 'Prince Rupert of the Forest Kingdom, second in line to the Forest throne, defender of the weak, warrior of the Realm, and collector of lesser taxes!' He then glanced nervously back over his shoulder and added in a smaller voice, '. . . and friends ...'
    Julia curtsied daintily, and then realised she was still holding her dagger. She grinned and, lifting her trouser to show a generous amount of leg, stuffed the weapon