Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

fiercely, throbbing to the rhythm of the sword blows. He didn't have to go back into the darkness. He could still change his mind, and go the long way round.
    Rupert clenched his hands until the nails dug painfully into his palms. He'd beaten the Darkwood before, he could beat it again. He had to. If only because his men trusted him to get them through safely. He realised he was holding the unicorn's reins too tight, and slowly relaxed his hands.
    'Rupert,' said the unicorn quietly, 'are you sure this is a good idea?'
    'No,' said Rupert. 'If you've got a better one, let's hear it.'
    The unicorn sniffed, and tossed his head. 'I'm just the transport, who listens to me?'
    'Don't start that again,' said Rupert wearily. 'You're my friend, and right now I need all the help I can get.
    If there was any other way to reach the Dark Tower in time, I'd take it. Do you think I want to go back into the darkness?'
    'No,' said the unicorn softly. 'I know you don't. I don't want to, either.'
    'We don't have any choice,' said Rupert, his voice not as firm as he would have liked. 'If the Blue Moon rises before we get back, there'll be nowhere to get back to. The High Warlock may be our last chance to stop the long night.'
    'The rainbow sword . . .'
    'Saved us once. It can't help us again. I tried to call a Rainbow back in the Coppertown mine, when I was being chased by that creature. Nothing happened.'
    'Hardly surprising,' said the unicorn. 'How's a Rainbow supposed to get to you when you're hidden away down in the depths of a mine?'
    'I thought of that,' said Rupert tiredly. 'I've tried to summon the Rainbow a dozen times since, but nothing's ever happened. What magic there was in the sword is gone.'
    'Great,' said the unicorn. 'Just great. I notice you didn't mention this before we got to the Darkwood.'
    'Must have slipped my mind,' said Rupert innocently.
    The unicorn snorted, and kicked at the muddy trail with his hoof. 'No dragon, no rainbow sword, and we're going back into the darkness. We must be mad. Ah well, if nothing else, maybe we'll find the demon that thieved my horn. I feel naked without it.'
    'You're always naked,' said Rupert.
    'You can go off people, you know,' said the unicorn.
    Rupert chuckled briefly, and then looked up as one of the guards called to him. They'd finished widening the entrance into the Darkwood. Rupert took a deep breath, let it go slowly, and led his unicorn and his men in.
    Night slammed down as Rupert crossed the boundary. The wind and the sleet couldn't follow him, but the darkness was even colder, an icy chill that sank into his bones and gnawed at them, until it seemed he'd never feel warm again. As more and more guards crossed the boundary into the Darkwood their lamps and lanterns helped push the darkness back, and Rupert began to breathe more easily. Not far ahead, the Champion and his guards pressed steadily forward in their own little pool of light, slowly and methodically opening up a new trail into the Darkwood. Rupert hefted his sword and stared about him, but the dim lamplight couldn't penetrate far into the endless gloom. Twisted trees glowed golden under the light, and every now and again a crooked branch would stir slightly, though no wind blew in the long night.
    'How are you feeling?' asked the unicorn quietly.
    'Lousy,' said Rupert. 'I keep feeling we're being watched.'
    'We probably are.'
    'You're a great comfort. Can you see anything out there?'
    'No.'
    Rupert scowled unhappily. 'They know we're here. I can feel it. It's just a matter of time . . . With luck, we'll be out of here in an hour.'
    The unicorn snorted. 'Since when have we ever been lucky?'
    Cutting the path was slow, hard work, and as the company pressed deeper into the Darkwood, their pace soon slowed to a crawl. The Guardsmen crowded together, glancing uneasily about them as the dark, brooding oppression of the long night sank slowly into their souls. Their usual joking and horseplay had vanished, replaced by a wary, watchful silence.
    Rupert changed the trail-cutters as soon as they showed signs of tiring, but there was a limit to how fast
    the guards could fell and drag aside the closely packed trees. The sound of steel cutting into rotten wood was eerily loud in the quiet, but still there was no sign of the demons. The waiting wore at Rupert's nerves, and it was all he could do to stop himself jumping at every sudden sound or movement. The slow march continued, and he began to worry that the candles in the