Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

between them.
    'Do we have your support?' asked Darius. He could feel a cold sweat forming on his face, though the room was comfortably warm. The Prince sitting opposite him wasn't the man he thought he knew, and Darius began to wonder if perhaps he and his friends had made a horrible mistake. One word from this cold-eyed stranger to the Royal Guard, and a great many heads would roll from the bloodstained block before morning. Darius shifted his weight in his chair, casually dropping one pudgy hand on to the hilt of the poisoned dagger he carried sheathed beneath his sleeve.
    Harald lifted his empty glass. The Lady Cecelia leaned forward and poured him more wine. Her silk wrap parted slightly, allowing Harald a brief glimpse of her impressive cleavage. Harald sipped at his wine, and smiled sardonically.
    'You have my support,' he said finally, 'but for my reasons, not yours.'
    'Your reasons?' said Darius uncertainly.
    'I want to be King,' said Harald. 'And I'm tired of waiting.'
    Darius smiled, and moved his hand away from the dagger. 'I don't think you need wait much longer, Sire.'
    'Good,' said Harald. He sipped at his wine thoughtfully. 'Why did you come to me, Darius? Surely Rupert would have been a better choice, he has so much more to gain than I do.'
    'Rupert has become an unknown factor,' said Darius. 'His time in the Darkwood changed him. He's become stronger, more forceful, more . . . independent. He's always been loyal to the Land, but he's made no secret of the fact that he puts ethics before politics. A rather naive attitude in a Prince, and altogether untenable in a King. Besides, I don't think he and I could ever work amicably together.'
    'He doesn't like me, either,' said the Lady Cecelia, pouting elegantly.
    Harald put down his glass and rose to his feet. 'I support you in principle, Darius, but for the moment that's as far as I go. Arrange a meeting for me with your . . . friends, and I'll talk with them. If I'm to commit treason, I want to know who my fellow conspirators are. All of them.'
    'Very well,' said Darius. 'I'll have word brought to you when we're ready.'
    'Soon,' said Harald. 'Make it soon.'
    'Of course, Sire,' said Darius, and Harald left. Darius poured himself more wine, and was surprised to find that his hands were shaking.
    'Insolent puppy,' he growled. 'He should be grateful for the chance we're giving him.'
    'Kings aren't noted for their gratitude,' pointed out the Lady Cecelia tartly. 'He'll come around. He's young and greedy, and not nearly as bright as he'd like us to think.'
    'Don't underestimate him,' said Sir Blays, stepping out from behind the bookcase as it swung slowly open on its concealed hinges. Sir Guillam and Sir Bedivere followed him into the room, and the bookcase
    swung shut behind them.
    'We don't have to worry about Harald,' said Darius. 'He wants to be King, and we're his best chance.'
    'This morning I might have agreed with you,' said Blays thoughtfully, sinking into the chair opposite Darius. 'Now, I'm not so sure. I always said there was more going on in that Prince's head than anyone ever gave him credit for, and unfortunately it seems I was right. The old Harald was no problem, we could have handled him. This new Harald — I don't know. He must have realised that once we've put him on the throne, he'll never be anything more than a figurehead for the Barons.'
    'Undoubtedly he has,' said Darius complacently, folding his fat hands across his stomach. 'But what can he do? If he betrays us to the Royal Guard, he loses his chance to be King. He might never get another.
    And once we've placed him on the throne, he'll soon find he needs us more than ever. The odds are that Prince Rupert will be back by then, along with the Champion and the High Warlock. No, gentlemen, Harald needs us, and he knows it. If we work it right, he'll always need us.'
    The High Warlock worries me,' said Blays. 'What if he and the Champion decide to overthrow Harald in favour of Rupert?'
    'From what I remember of the High Warlock, he won't give a damn who sits on the throne, as long as they do what he tells them. He never was much interested in politics.'
    'And Rupert and the Champion?'
    'The Champion has always been loyal to the eldest son,' said Darius slowly. 'And he's never had much time for Rupert. I don't think the Champion will be a problem. In fact, with a little persuasion he might even take care of Rupert for us.'
    He looked up, and realised Sir Guillam and Sir Bedivere were