Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

starless night as the Champion led Rupert and the column of guards down a steep hillside. Lanterns hung from every saddle, glowing golden against the dark, the pale light barely sufficient to show the path the Champion followed. Tall crooked shadows loomed menacingly out of the darkness as the company wended its way through the sparse trees. The wind had finally dropped, but the night air was bitter cold. The slope flattened out suddenly, and the Champion reined in his horse.
    'This is it, Sire. The mine.'
    Rupert held up his lantern, but the dim light hid more in shadow than it revealed. The mine workings looked old; centuries old. A few ancient half-timbered buildings surrounded a main entrance barely wide enough to admit three men walking abreast. The Champion swung down out of the saddle and stood quietly, his cold dark eyes fixed on the entrance. After a while, Rupert dismounted and moved forward to stand beside him.
    'I was ten years old when my father first took me down below,' said the Champion quietly. 'The motherlode was running out, and the Barons had cut our wages, to reduce the overheads. My family needed the money, and there was always work for children down the mine. The tunnel that led to the main face was so small my father had to crawl through it on his hands and knees. All I had to do was duck my head. The only light came from the candles in our caps, and the air was thick with dust. That
    first day the shift was only six hours, but it seemed forever.
    'I ran away, that night. I thought I was brave, but I couldn't face another day down the mine. I haven't been back here in over thirty years, but that mine still has a hold on me. Funny, isn't it, after all these years?'
    Rupert shot a quick look at the Champion, but he seemed to have finished. The Champion's face was mostly lost in shadow, but it seemed as calm and impassive as ever. Rupert looked away. He didn't know why the Champion was telling him these things; it wasn't as though they were close, or even friends. Rupert studied the mine entrance before him. It was hard to think of the Champion as a boy; a child who laughed and cried and ran away from a darkness he couldn't bear.
    'Sir Champion ...'
    'We'll check the buildings first,' said the Champion evenly, and moved away to give the orders.
    Light soon flared from a dozen torches set around the main entrance. Guards moved silently through the darkness, searching for traces of the missing townspeople. The buildings proved to be empty, but strange scuff marks were discovered in the tunnel leading down from the main entrance. Rupert entered the tunnel and knelt beside the marks, studying them as best he could in the dim light from his lantern. They weren't tracks as such; it looked more as though something indescribably heavy had lain briefly on the tunnel floor, crushing and packing the earth tightly together. Rupert frowned; whatever was responsible for those traces, it definitely wasn't demons. The Champion came back out of the tunnel darkness, and Rupert rose quickly to his feet.
    'Have you found anything?'
    'Not yet, Sire. They're in the mine somewhere.'
    'We can't be sure of that, sir Champion.'
    'I'm sure,' said the Champion flatly. 'Something called to them. Something called to the townspeople, and they left their houses to come here, to the mine. Men, women and children; so many they must have had to wait their turn to file through the main entrance. They're down there somewhere, in the dark, waiting for us to join them.'
    Rupert glanced at him sideways. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the Champion was cracking up.
    The man had always been a little unstable, but . . . Further down the tunnel, a guard cried out in horror.
    Rupert ran forward, the Champion at his side, and the guard came out of the darkness to meet them, his face drained of all colour. He'd lost his sword and his lantern, but he was carrying something in his hand.
    'What's happened?' snapped the Champion. The guard stumbled to a halt. His mouth worked, but he couldn't speak.
    'What have you found?' asked Rupert. The guard shook his head wordlessly, and handed Rupert a red shoe. Rupert frowned. It was small, too small to be anything but a child's. It seemed strangely heavy in his hand. He looked into the shoe, and then fought back the urge to vomit. The child's foot was still in the shoe, neatly severed at the ankle. The shoe was red from dried blood. Rupert passed the shoe to the Champion, who studied it