Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

squeeze. 'Go to sleep, love.'
    She snuggled up against him, her hand resting on his shoulder, and her slow breathing gradually deepened as sleep took her. Gawaine lay still, staring into the darkness. King John had trusted him, knighted him, loved him as a son. He had been honoured and content as a knight of the Forest Kingdom.
    And then everything had gone wrong, and in the space of a few months he'd had to give up everything he'd ever cared for, to save his wife. Perhaps the saddest truth of all was that deep down where it mattered, he was no longer sure he loved his wife. He kept it from her, as best he could. If only because he felt guilty for not loving her as much as she loved him.
    I did it for you, Gawaine. I know, Emma. I know.
    Jordan woke slowly and reluctantly from his slumber, but the persistent voice and the tugging at his arm wouldn't let him rest. He sat up on the bed and looked blearily about him. The candles were still burning in their holders, but were little more than stubs. He'd had barely three or four hours'
    sleep, and it felt like a hell of a lot less. His head was muzzy, and his mouth tasted as though something had died in it. He yawned and stretched and scratched at his ribs. He hated sleeping in his clothes.
    'All right,' he said roughly, 'I'm awake. What's the emergency?'
    He glared around to see who'd disturbed his rest, and then snapped wide awake as he found himself face to face with the ghost child, Wee Geordie. The young boy's face was screwed up with fear and worry, and he was tugging urgently at Jordan's right arm with both hands. Jordan's first thought was that he ought to be frightened at being woken in the early hours of the morning by a ghost, but the open dismay on the boy's face wouldn't let him be scared. Geordie was already frightened enough for both of them.
    'What is it, Geordie?' he said more gently. 'What are you doing back here?'
    'You've got to help her! She's going to die if someone doesn't help her!'
    'Who is? Who's going to die? Slow down, lad; I'll help you, I promise. Now, who is going to die?'
    'Kate Taggert, the Steward lady.' Geordie's voice choked up for a moment as though he was going to burst into tears, but he got control of himself again and carried on. 'She went into the West Wing with
    Damon Cord and Mother Donna, and it's awful in there. The Unreal's broken loose. It's out of control, and they're all going to die if you don't do something!'
    Jordan swung down off the bed, buckled his swordbelt about him, and headed for the bedroom door.
    He wasn't sure what Geordie was on about, but he knew genuine terror when he saw it. He'd been very impressed by the Steward's style in the Great Hall earlier on, and if she was in trouble he wanted to help. He strode quickly through the suite and pulled open the main door. He was glad to see both the guards were back on duty. He had a use for them.
    'I want Count Roderik and Sir Gawaine, as fast as you can get them here. Now move it!'
    The two guards looked at each other, and the one on the left cleared his throat. 'With respect, your highness, I really don't think the Count would take kindly to being disturbed at this hour. And we were given strict orders not to leave you unattended, for any reason.'
    Jordan stepped forward, thrust his scowling face at the guard's, and gave him his best intimidating glare.
    'Get moving right now, soldier, or so help me I'll deep-fry you on the spot.' He raised one hand in a vaguely mystical gesture, and the guard turned and ran. Jordan turned to glare at the other guard, but he was already off and running.
    There are advantages to being a Prince, thought Jordan grimly. Particularly if they're half-convinced you're crazy as well. He looked down at Wee Geordie, who was hovering at his side. 'Why did you come to me for help, lad? I don't even know the Steward very well.'
    'You were nice to me,' said the ghost in a small voice. 'You spoke to me. Most people are stupid. They won't talk to me at all. Kate always does, but she's different. She's been my friend for a long time. But most people don't want to know me. I do . try to be friendly, but they just yell or scream or run away.
    Do you know why they won't be friends with me?'
    Jordan looked down into the young boy's trusting eyes, and fought hard to keep the pity out of his face.
    The poor lad doesn't even know he's dead, and that the mother he's looking for has been in the cold ground for centuries. And Jordan knew that even if he