Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

could explain it to the boy, Geordie probably couldn't understand it. How could a boy that age ever really understand what ? had happened to him?
    He was groping for something to say in answer to the boy's question when luckily he was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. He looked up, and saw one of the guards returning with Sir Gawaine. The knight
    looked as though he'd dressed in a hurry, but he was carrying his axe at the ready. Some of the worry left his face when he saw Jordan standing there apparently unharmed, and the concern was replaced by a heavy scowl.
    'This had better be a real emergency,' he growled, slowing to a halt before Jordan. 'You're lucky I was already getting up when your guard arrived. There's a General Alarm in the Castle, although so far I haven't been able to find anyone who can tell me why.'
    'I can,' said Jordan. 'The Unreal's broken through in the West Wing, and everything's gone to hell in a handcart. The Steward's in there with it, and she's in trouble. If we don't do something fast, she's dead.
    You got any ideas?'
    'Yes,' said Gawaine. 'We go in there after her and get her out.'
    'I was afraid you were going to say something like that.'
    Gawaine looked at him narrowly. 'How is it you know so much about what's going on?'
    Jordan indicated the boy at his side. 'Wee Geordie told me.'
    The knight looked at the young ghost, who smiled shyly up at him, and moved a step closer to Jordan so he could hold his hand and half hide behind him. Gawaine nodded slowly.
    'You do have a gift for making friends, your highness,' he said dryly. 'If Geordie told you, I've no doubt it's true. We'd better get moving.'
    'No one's going anywhere!' snapped Count Roderik, hurrying down the corridor towards them. He was wearing a sheer silk dressing gown tastefully decorated with gold and silver piping and mother-of-pearl buttons. The last time Jordan had seen a gown like that, the owner had been running a Web City brothel. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but quickly disappeared as Roderik came to a halt directly before him. 'That's far enough, your highness. You know you're not supposed to be out at this hour. The night air's bad for you. Now get back into your room, and stay there.'
    'The Unreal's broken loose . . .' Jordan began, but Roderik cut him short.
    'That's none of your business. There are people here in the Castle whose job it is to deal with that.
    You'd just get in the way, Viktor. I thought I'd made it quite clear that you were not to leave your rooms before morning for any reason, unless I was with you. Gawaine, escort his highness back to bed, and tuck him in.'
    Jordan looked at Sir Gawaine, and raised an eyebrow. Gawaine bowed to him. 'Awaiting your orders, Sire.'
    'Then let's go.'
    'That's enough!' Roderik stepped forward so that his face was only inches away from Jordan's. 'You forget yourself,' said Roderik softly, pitching his voice low so that the two guards wouldn't hear. 'Now do as you're told. I have more than enough magic to knock you cold if I have to, or I could simply order the guards to put you back in your rooms. So, your highness, do you want to walk back in, or would you rather be dragged?'
    Jordan smiled slowly. 'I don't think you understand the situation, Roderik. Guards, escort the Count back to his rooms and tuck him into bed.'
    The two guards stepped forward, took one of Roderik's arms each, and then dragged him backwards down the corridor. Roderik disappeared quickly into the distance, speechlessly mouthing threats and curses. Jordan and Gawaine shared a smile. Something poked Jordan in the back of the knee. He looked down, and found that the bloodhound had chosen that moment to make his reappearance.
    'Isn't he lovely!' said Geordie excitedly. 'Is he yours, Viktor?' I le knelt down and hugged the dog's neck.
    The bloodhound wagged his tail briskly and licked the young ghost's face.
    Gawaine looked at Jordan. 'Where did you get that from?'
    'Came with the room,' said Jordan.
    Geordie reluctantly stopped petting the dog and looked appealingly at Jordan. 'Please, we've got to go now or it'll be too late and the Steward'll die! Please!'
    'Lead the way, lad,' said Sir Gawaine, and Wee Geordie set off down the corridor at a run, the bloodhound bounding along
    beside him. Jordan and Gawaine followed on behind. The West Wing turned out to be a great deal closer than Jordan had realised, and in a matter of minutes he'd drawn close enough to hear the insane