Once In a Blue Moon (77 page)

All who were in the courtyard started looking at one another, and not in a good way. Looking to see who might be looking back, behind someone else’s eyes. Some people started backing away from others.

“Stop that!” said Hawk. “That’s what he wants. He loves to make us distrust each other.”

“But he could be here, now,” said Prince Richard. “He could be in anyone. How would we know?”

Laurence Garner, head of Castle security, pointed suddenly at Chappie. “It’s him! It has to be him! The demon dog! How else could a dog live to be a hundred years old? It’s not natural!”

“I will bite you,” said Chappie. “And you won’t like where. I was made by the High Warlock, and he did good work.”

“He saved my life,” said Hawk. “And he killed the Redhart General.”

There was a great turning away, as more and more people looked suspiciously at the Sombre Warrior, hidden behind his featureless steel helmet.

“There could be anyone inside that armour,” said Garner. “How do we know there’s anything human in there?”

“You’re starting to get on my tits, Garner,” said Hawk.

“And I vouch for the Sombre Warrior,” Catherine said loudly.

She nodded to him, and he raised both hands and removed his helmet. There were all sorts of gasps in the courtyard, as they all saw his untouched, undamaged features. Even at the Hero Academy they knew the story of the Sombre Warrior.

“Explain yourself,” said King Rufus. “I do love a good story . . .”

So the Sombre Warrior ran through his complicated life one more time, leaving out only his service for King William. He didn’t want to upset anyone. There was much murmuring in the crowd when he finished. A great many things had suddenly become clear.

“You spoke of unfinished business here, earlier,” said Catherine. “Can you tell us what that was, now?”

“I wanted to visit my parents’ graves,” said the Warrior. “I wasn’t here when they died. And they died thinking I was dead. The First Minister wouldn’t allow me to come home. Not while he still had a use for me in Redhart.”

“It is clear to me,” said King Rufus, “that you have been hard used in our service, sir Warrior. But you are home now. You can tell us your real name, if you wish, that we may do you honour.”

“No,” said the Sombre Warrior. “That man is dead. And he wasn’t anyone you would have heard of, anyway.”

He put the steel helmet back on, and became his own legend again. Catherine put a hand on his arm and patted it briefly.

And then everyone’s head snapped round again as another unexpected arrival made its presence known. The Green Man came walking through the far wall as though it was nothing. He advanced unhurriedly across the courtyard, and everyone fell back to give the massive figure plenty of space. Up close, his colour didn’t seem at all natural. Not the bright green of living things at all. He came to a halt before King Rufus and smiled brightly.

“The Unreal is even now venturing out of the Forest and into the clearing!” the Green Man said loudly.

“Where the hell have you been?” said King Rufus. “We could have used your help before this!”

“I have my own business to be about,” said the Green Man, entirely unmoved by the anger in the King’s voice. “I’m here now. Be grateful. It’s only right that I lead you out into battle, as my opposite the Red Heart leads the Unreal forces. Come, Rufus. It’s time for you to be the King you always wanted to be.”

“No, Father!” Richard said immediately. “You can’t go out onto the battlefield!”

“You can’t stop him,” said the Green Man.

“Why does he have to go?” said the Prince, staring defiantly back at the Green Man towering over him.

“Because the King is the Land, and the Land is the King.”

“Now that is bullshit,” said Hawk. “And I should know.”

“Why?” said the Green Man, turning his supernaturally handsome face on Hawk. “Who are you, that you should defy me?”

Hawk glared up at him. “Don’t you know?”

The Green Man looked at him for a long moment, and then his smile widened into something entirely inhuman. “You . . . You’re finally here. No need for games, then, anymore.”

He vanished, gone in a moment, not even leaving a ripple of disturbed air behind him.

“Where are you?” said King Rufus to the empty air. “Where have you gone? Come back! You can’t leave us now! We need you!”

The crowd in the courtyard looked at one another and stirred restlessly, disturbed by the naked need in the King’s voice. They weren’t as convinced of the Green Man’s necessity as he was. When it became clear that the Green Man wasn’t coming back, the King turned on Hawk.

“What have you done? You’ve driven away our most powerful ally!”

“I never trusted him,” said Hawk. “And neither should you. Wars should be fought and won by people, or their victories don’t mean anything. Where did you say you found that thing exactly?”

“Imprisoned in an ancient Standing Stone,” said the King. “He said . . .”

“Oh, I’m sure he promised you all kinds of things,” Fisher said briskly. “But never believe anything a demon tells you. And all supernatural creatures should be regarded as demons until proved otherwise.”

“The Castle’s magical defences have just gone down!” Raven said sharply. “They were never intended to stand against an army of the Unreal.”

“So there’s nothing to stop them crossing the clearing and attacking the Castle,” said Mercy, standing close beside the black-clad sorcerer.

“You’re sure?” said the King. He suddenly looked smaller, and older. “I thought we’d have more time . . .”

“I can See what’s happening, quite clearly,” said Raven. “They’re not even trying to hide themselves. But they’re hesitating . . . for the moment. Holding their positions at the very edge of the Forest. Probably can’t believe it was that easy.”

“They won’t stay there long,” said Mercy. “If we are going out to meet them, we’d better do it soon.”

“What about the Red Heart?” said Hawk. “Is he there with them? Or has he done a vanishing act like the Green Man?”

“I don’t know,” said Raven. “I can’t See him. I’ve never been able to See either of them.”

“Well?” said Hawk, looking at King Rufus. “It’s your decision. Your majesty.”

“This is what I always wanted,” the King said slowly. “To be a real King, leading his forces out to battle, in a struggle that really mattered . . . My dream has finally come true. And it’s a nightmare.”

“Father?” said Richard.

King Rufus’ head came up. “Time to go,” he said. “Stop the Unreal in the Forest, before they can spread out, and stamp them into the ground. Every last one of them.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Hawk.

“Damn right,” said Roland the Headless Axeman. “This is what I’ve spent decades training people for.”

“It’s been a while since I killed a monster,” said Lily Peck demurely. “But I’m sure it’ll come back to me. It’s the kind of thing one should do now and again, just to keep one’s hand in.”

“These are your tutors at the Academy?” King Rufus said quietly to Hawk. “No wonder so many of your students pass with honours. They’re probably afraid not to.”

“You have no idea,” said Hawk.

“I heard that!” said Roland.

“How?” said Hawk.

“All right!” said Prince Richard, raising his voice so it echoed across the courtyard. “Stand ready! Once the gates are open, form up on me, and I’ll lead you out!”

“And I’ll be right there beside you,” said Catherine.

“To fight against your own people?” said Richard. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“This is a battle against the Unreal,” Catherine said steadily. “Not my soldiers. I can do this, Richard. I have to do this. You only have to look at the things out there to know my great-grandparents got rid of the Unreal for a good reason. And I will do this, Richard, no matter what you say. This is my vengeance against my father, for starting a war and then claiming it was all because of me!”

The King stepped forward, and two young men looked steadily at each other. Both of them tall and proud, warriors in the blood, in the prime of their lives.

“I can’t let you do this, Richard,” said the King. “It is my place to lead this army.”

Everyone looked at him silently. No one moved. The King looked about him, taking in the expressions on their faces, and something hard and brittle seemed to break inside him. No one wanted to say it, but he knew anyway.

“I’d just be in the way, wouldn’t I?” he said. “I haven’t led men into battle in forty years and more. And for all my new strength and youth, you couldn’t concentrate on what needed doing, because you’d be too busy trying to protect me. Because if the King falls in battle, it’s all over. That’s why William isn’t out there with his army.”

“It is the duty of a King to send his people out to fight,” said Richard. “And it is his responsibility to remain behind, in safety, while they do it.”

King Rufus nodded slowly, bitterly. He took off the great old sword, Lawgiver, and gave it back to Richard. The Prince accepted it gracefully and strapped it quickly into place. He strode forward across the courtyard, with Catherine at his side, their two bodyguards, Peter Foster and the Sombre Warrior, right there with them.

Behind them marched the Forest’s greatest heroes, from the Grand Tourney. Sir Russell Hardacre, the Blademaster; the enigmatic sorcerer Dr. Strangely Weird; Hannah Hexe, a Sister of the Moon from the witches’ Night Academy; Roger Zell, the wandering hero; Tom Tom Paladin, the penitent; and Stefan Solomon, the Master of the Morningstar. All great names from Forest history, ready to fight monsters to protect their home.

Then Hawk and Fisher and all their family, and all the heroes of the Academy. Roland the Headless Axeman and the witch Lily Peck, Jonas Crane the Blademaster and even the Alchemist himself, in his stained alchemical robes, bearing a backpack full of unpleasant surprises. And many more great names, and names in the making.

Richard gestured to the guards at the gates. The portcullis rose, and the drawbridge slammed down across the moat. And Prince Richard led his army out.

No horses; they’d be no use in the tightly packed trees at the edge of the Forest. Just men and women on foot, with steel in their hands and in their hearts.

•   •   •

P
rince Christof and the Champion, Malcolm Barrett, stood together at the edge of the Forest and watched the army charge across the clearing towards them. They couldn’t believe it when they first heard; they had to come out and see for themselves. They were as close to the nearest Unreal as they chose to get. Just being this near made them feel uncomfortable. Monstrous creatures stamped and snorted on every side, and terrible forces roiled on the still air . . . but none of them left the safety of the trees to meet the coming army. They stood, and waited.

“So much for forcing them out of the Castle,” said Christof. “What is the matter with these people? They haven’t done one damn thing they were supposed to.”

“That’s how you win battles,” said the Champion.

Van Fleet laughed mirthlessly. He was standing a way off, on his own. He looked lost, like a small child who’d wandered into a big boys’ game. None of them had seen the Stalking Man for some time. No doubt he was out there, somewhere, among the Unreal. Who were probably more scared of him than he was of them. That great crimson creature, the Red Heart, could just be seen in the gloom among the trees, walking up and down among the Unreal, talking and laughing with them. And then he stopped suddenly, and disappeared. He reappeared abruptly before Christof and the Champion, grinning down at them.

“It’s all up to you now,” he said cheerfully. “The rules of the game just changed, and I must away.”

He vanished again. Christof and the Champion looked quickly about them but couldn’t see him anywhere.

“What?” said Christof. “
What?
He can’t just do that! We were depending on him to lead the Unreal!”

“I don’t think the Unreal follow anyone,” said Van Fleet. “I don’t think they’d do anything as human as that . . .”

“Easy, Chris,” said Malcolm. “He’s the Red Heart; he can do pretty much anything he feels like. Including rushing off and leaving us in the lurch. Now calm down! We don’t want to look panicked in front of the troops.”

“Even though we are,” said Van Fleet.

“Shut up, Van! Look, Chris, neither of us ever trusted the Red Heart anyway. We’re probably better off without him.”

“But what are we going to do?” said Christof. “I didn’t realise how much I was depending on that overgrown monster until we didn’t have him anymore.”

“We send the Unreal army out to fight the army that’s coming,” said Malcolm. “Let them do the hard work, and soak up the punishment. Then our troops can move in afterwards and clean up what’s left.”

Christof nodded quickly. “Let the Unreal go out and die. It’ll save us having to destroy them afterwards.”

•   •   •

T
he rain had held off for as long as it could, but now it was back. A steady, driving storm, rain slamming down hard enough to bounce back from the increasingly muddy ground. The sky was dark and brooding overhead, and lightning flared, far away but drawing closer. The Forest army crossed the clearing, and no one came out to meet them. Richard finally slowed, and raised a hand, and the charge slammed to a halt, just short of the trees at the edge of the Forest. Beyond the trees there were only shadows. Some of them were moving. Prince Richard glared through the driving rain, the Princess Catherine at his side.

“Do we go in?” said Catherine. “I don’t see anything.”

“We go in,” said Richard. But he didn’t move.

“We can’t just stand here,” said his bodyguard Peter. “Firstly, because we’re all getting soaked. More important, because we’re too clear a target out here in the open.”

Hawk and Fisher came forward. Hawk had his axe in his hand, Fisher had her usual sword. She hadn’t drawn the Infernal Device yet. Hawk looked up, for no reason he could put a name to, and there above him, sailing on the open night sky, was a full Blue Moon. Of course. The Demon Prince was back, the Forest was full of monsters, and Wild Magic was loose in the world again. As though Hawk had never been away. As though everything he’d done had been for nothing. He looked at Fisher, at his side as always, and smiled briefly. He’d beaten back the darkness before, and in worse situations than this. If this was the third time he’d had to put his life on the line, for those he loved and the Land he cared for—well, maybe the third time would pay for all.