Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

walls erupted as the wind passed over them. Gaping mouths opened in what had been stone and plaster,
    and howling voices shrieked in agony. The floor began to melt and run away, revealing jagged-edged holes full of blood-red flowers. The ceiling caught fire. And the change wind roared on, leaving damnation in its wake.
    Timothy Blood looked for the end of the corridor ahead and couldn't see it. It didn't make much difference anyway. The change wind would catch him in a matter of moments, and whatever was left of him after that wouldn't care about anything any more. He looked around for the Sanctuary, and then skidded to a halt as he saw that Grey Davey had stopped and turned to face the change wind. The guards kept on running.
    'Move it,' Blood screamed to the Sanctuary. 'We've got to get out of here!'
    'You go,' said Grey Davey, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the approaching wind. 'I'm needed here. My power will buy you and your men the time you need to escape. You've got to tell Taggert about this. Warn the Castle. Tell them nowhere's safe any more.'
    He stood his ground, and pulled his power about him. Blood looked over his shoulder at his disappearing guards, and then looked back at the Sanctuary.
    'Ah hell,' he said finally. 'Someone's got to watch your back, Davey.'
    He stepped forward to stand beside Grey Davey, sword in hand, and the two of them stood together as the change wind came howling towards them.
    Prince Lewis strode angrily back and forth in his private quarters, gulping at a glass of wine without really tasting it. Apart from a few bruises and a nasty gash on one hand, he'd come out of Dominic's ambush pretty much unscathed, but he was still fuming mad. A third of his men were dead or wounded.
    Almost another third had deserted his ranks and left the Castle. He had the satisfaction of knowing that the Monk and Ironheart had done some considerable damage to Dominic's troops, but the attack itself still rankled. He'd gone to negotiate in good faith, and they'd laughed at him. Lewis kicked at the thick grass covering his floor. All right, he'd made a mistake. He wouldn't make the same mistake again.
    He threw himself into his favourite chair and stared sulkily at his feet. Nothing seemed to be going right lately. The Monk had failed to destroy Viktor and his people at Barrowmeer, the alliance with Dominic was over before it had even begun, and now his oak tree was dying. He glared at the great tree in its corner. The leaves had fallen from its branches, and the bark was mottled with some kind of fungus.
    Lewis had almost exhausted his earth magic trying to keep the tree alive, but something in the tree resisted him. Either the Unreal had got past his wards and undermined his magic, or Dominic had somehow managed to poison it. Lewis frowned sulkily. He was fond of that tree. And if all that wasn't bad enough, now Ironheart was getting mulish. He scowled at the tall suit of armour standing motionless in its corner. The battered armour was clean and gleaming, with only a few flecks of dried blood around the gauntlets' knuckles to show that Ironheart had recently been in a battle.
    'You promised me my freedom,' said Ironheart, his voice as
    always distant and echoing and slightly slurred. 'You gave me your word, Prince Lewis.'
    'So I did,' said Lewis. 'When I become King, you shall be free of all obligations to me.'
    'That wasn't the deal.'
    'The deal has changed! My dear Ironheart, you must see that I need your protection now more than ever. I really can't do without you until I am safely on the throne, and the Stone is mine to draw on.'
    'You may never be King,' said Ironheart. 'I see and hear many things denied to your limited senses.
    Castle Midnight is under siege. The Unreal is finally breaking free of the chains that have bound it for so long, and creatures of the night wait impatiently in the dark places for the last few barriers to fall. It may already be too late to stop them.'
    'Do you know that for sure?' said Lewis.
    'No. But I suspect it.'
    'Your suspicions don't matter. Nothing matters to you and me but the bond between us. You're mine, Ironheart, body and soul, and your only hope for freedom is to obey me in all things.'
    'Yes, Lewis. I'm yours. For now.'
    'You're mine until I decide otherwise.' Lewis emptied his glass, and dropped it carelessly on to the grassy floor. He was tired, and his injured hand ached. He wanted to go to bed and forget the day's troubles in sleep,