Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

been away a long time.'
    'I don't want to talk about it.'
    'John ...'
    'I don't want to talk about it!'
    Thomas Grey looked into his old friend's eyes and then turned his head away, unable to face the ancient rage and bitterness and sorrow he found there.
    'Tell me about the Infernal Devices,' said King John. 'It's been years since I had to read up on the bloody things.'
    'Apparently there were once six of these swords,' said the Astrologer quietly. 'But only three remain to us: Flarebright, Wolfsbane and Rockbreaker. No one's dared draw them for centuries.'
    'Are they as powerful as the legends say?'
    Grey shrugged. 'Probably more so. Every source I can find was scared spitless by them.'
    That's as may be,' growled the King. 'But both they and the Curtana are still sheathed in their scabbards in the Old Armoury, and the Old Armoury is in the South Wing. And we haven't been able to find that since we lost it thirty-two years ago!'
    'The Seneschal says he can find it,' said Grey calmly, 'And that's good enough for me. He's the best tracker this Castle's ever had.'
    'Yeah, maybe,' said the King. He scratched halfheartedly at his ragged mop of hair, and sighed wearily.
    'There are times, Thomas, when I wish your title wasn't just honorary. Right now it would be very useful to have someone who could foresee the future.'
    Grey laughed. 'Sorry, John, but my title's nothing more than a legacy from our superstitious ancestors.
    When all's said and done, I'm just an astronomer. Show me a sheep's entrails and all I could tell you is what kind of soup they'd make.'
    The King smiled, and nodded slowly. 'Just a thought, Thomas, just a thought.' He rose stiffly to his feet, and glanced round the empty Court. 'I think I'll turn in now. I get so damn tired, these days.'
    'You've been working too hard. We both have. You ought to give Harald more responsibility, let him handle some of the routine matters. He's of an age where he could easily take some of the burden off our backs.'
    'No,' said the King shortly. 'He's not ready yet.'
    'You can't go on putting it off, John. We won't always be here to guide him, age is creeping up on us.'
    'In my case, it seems to be positively sprinting.' The King gave a short bark of laughter and started down the dais steps, waving aside the Astrologer's offered arm. 'I'm tired, Thomas. We'll talk about this tomorrow.'
    'John'
    'Tomorrow, Thomas.'
    The Astrologer watched the King walk slowly across his empty Court. 'Tomorrow may be too late, John,' he said quietly, but if the King heard him, he gave no sign to show it.
    'You could be King, Harald,' said Lord Darius.
    'I will be King,' said Harald. 'I'm the eldest son. One day, all the Forest Land will be mine.'
    'You'll be King of nothing if you wait to inherit the throne.'
    'That's treason.'
    'Yes,' said Lord Darius pleasantly. 'It is.'
    The two men smiled, and toasted each other with their goblets. Harald nodded his acceptance of the vintage, and the Lady Cecelia leaned gracefully forward and filled his glass to the brim. The Prince smiled his thanks, settled himself more comfortably in his chair, and glanced round Darius's chambers. From the tales he'd heard of Darius's lifestyle, Harald had expected lush and sumptuous quarters, buried under thick carpets and rich tapestries. Instead, he found a quiet, sombre, almost austere room whose floor and walls were bare polished wood, warmed only by a single fire. An exit lay hidden behind a massive bookcase, whose shelves were tightly packed with works on politics, history and magic. Harald raised a mental eyebrow. It seemed there was more to the Minister for War than met the casual eye. The Prince sipped at his wine and studied Lord Darius over the goblet's rim. There was a basic squat ugliness to the man's face that all the careful make-up, plucked eyebrows and oiled hair couldn't disguise, and when he dropped his public mask his face set into uncompromising lines of cold determination.
    This man is dangerous, thought Harald calmly. He's ambitious and ruthless; a useful combination in any field, but especially so in politics. Probably sees himself as a Kingmaker.
    He turned his attention to Lord Darius's wife, the Lady Cecelia. She smiled slowly, and met his gaze with a stare of open appraisal. Hair dark as the night tumbled down over her bared alabaster shoulders, outlining and emphasising her delicately pretty face. Sensuality smouldered in her dark eyes and pouting lips. She had changed from her