Beyond the Blue Moon (Forest Kingdom Novels)

by Simon R. Green

  “Tell the Queen I will be with her directly.”

  The messenger nodded before leaving as quickly as dignity allowed. Even Royal messengers had more sense than to hang around Sir Vivian when he was in one of his moods. The Lady of the Lake reformed in the fountain as the door closed behind the messenger.

  “You’re frowning again, Vivian.”

  “With good cause. The Queen wouldn’t be sending for me this urgently unless things were really getting out of hand. Why did you vanish like that?”

  “Because the less people who know of my presence here, the better, for the moment.”

  “Why are you here?” asked Sir Vivian. “Why return now, after all these years?”

  “Because I’m needed,” said the Lady. “Just like you, Sir Vivian. Go and see Felicity. She needs you now more than ever. I can’t come with you. And you mustn’t tell anyone who I am—or, rather, was. And try not to worry so much; things aren’t nearly as out of control as they might seem.”

  Then she was gone again, and the fountain was just a fountain. Sir Vivian headed for the door. He somehow knew she wouldn’t be reappearing anytime soon. The sense of her presence was gone from the glade. He sighed. It had been good to see her again, talk with her, but …

  “Just when you think things can’t become any more complicated,” he said gruffly, “fate starts dealing from the bottom of the deck. Maybe I’ll just use my magic after all, turn everybody into frogs, and take a long holiday somewhere more peaceful.”

  He laughed briefly, surprising himself, and then left his precious private glade to attend his Queen and his duty one more time.

  Elsewhere in the Castle, the young witch Tiffany was taking the dog Chappie for a walk, and it would be difficult to say who was the more embarrassed. She had gone to the trouble of conjuring up a leather collar and lead for him, but he took one look, snatched them out of her hand, and ate them, and that was the end of that. But Tiffany was still determined that a walk was in order, and her iron will wore Chappie down to the point where he went along with it just so she’d stop talking at him. They went for a walk, side by side, each grimly determined to outlast the other.

  Chappie stared straight ahead and pretended she wasn’t with him, which was difficult because she insisted on keeping up a stream of happy chatter, and asking him the same question over and over again until he had to answer her. Tiffany could find topics of good cheer in practically anything, and usually did. Chappie limited himself mostly to grunts and the occasional quiet curse, and glared at everyone they met along the way. People took to shrinking back against the walls as they passed. Some even turned and ran. Particularly when Tiffany tried to stop and chat with them.

  “Honestly,” Chappie said emphatically for the fifth time, “I don’t need to be taken for walkies. I agreed to protect you because Chance made me promise, but we could do that just as well behind a locked door. Preferably somewhere not too far from the kitchens. Right now I’m so hungry I could eat an entire horse, including the hooves and the liver. And I hate liver. So would you, if you thought about what function it serves in the body. Why is it that everything that’s supposed to be good for you always tastes absolutely foul?”

  “Same reason that medicine does,” said Tiffany. “How else could you be sure it was doing you good? Everything in the world has to balance out, even symbolically. Perhaps especially symbolically.”

  “It’s thinking like that that makes my head hurt,” said Chappie. “Look, can we please stop for a minute? I need to have a good scratch and lick my balls.”

  “Chappie! You can’t do that in front of me!”

  “Sorry,” said the dog. “Didn’t know it was your turn.”

  He sniggered as Tiffany groaned loudly, and then they both stopped so they could glare at each other thoroughly. Tiffany could feel her voice rising in spite of herself. “Every day, Chappie, I pray none of you is rubbing off on Allen.”

  “Funny. Every day he prays that part of him could be rubbing—”

  “Chappie!”

  “I do wish the two of you would just have sex and get it over with. You’d both be a lot less frustrated and distracted, and maybe then you’d stop taking it out on me. You do both know about sex, don’t you? I mean, you don’t need me to explain the ins and outs to you?”

  “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” said Tiffany to the ceiling. “This kind of thing was very definitely not covered in the briefing on the outside world I was given before I left the Academy.”

  “A pity they didn’t teach you more about self-preservation,” said the dog, scratching thoroughly at his ribs. “Then I wouldn’t have to be here at all.”

  “I don’t need protecting,” Tiffany said icily.

  “Humans always say that,” said Chappie. “And they’re always wrong. Show any one of you a path sign-posted DANGER, EVIL FORCES, and SUDDEN DEATH THIS WAY, and there you go charging straight down it. Usually shouting some nonsense about duty and honor, and all those other things that get you killed at an early age. Any truly rational creature would do the sensible thing and head for the nearest horizon in the opposite direction. Personally I’m surprised any of you have the sense to come in out of the rain.”

  “Look,” said Tiffany, “let’s not quarrel. I hate quarreling.”

  “Probably because you’re so bad at it. If you really want to make up, find me something to eat. I’m not fussy. Animal, mineral, or vegetable—I’ll scarf the lot and gnaw on the bones. Hell, I don’t even care if it’s still kicking a bit.”

  “No snacks,” Tiffany said firmly. “You’re already far too heavy for your size. When I’ve got a minute, I’ll work out a nice diet plan for you, with lots of healthy roughage—”

  “Oh, God,” said Chappie. “Chance, please come back! All is forgiven! Just come back and save me from this terrible woman! I don’t know what he sees in you anyway.” He paused and looked at Tiffany’s chest. “Well, I guess I do, but frankly it baffles me.”

  “You care about Allen, don’t you?” asked Tiffany.

  “Of course,” said the dog gruffly. “I approve of him. He’d make a good dog. If I could just wean him off this duty and honor crap, we could probably have a really good life together.”

  “You understand duty,” said the witch. “You said yourself you’re only looking after me because you promised Allen you would.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “It just is, all right!”

  This was a really bad moment for the royal messenger to appear suddenly out of a side passage, right in front of them. Furious at letting himself be distracted from a potential threat, Chappie launched himself at the startled messenger, knocked him flat on his back, stood on his chest, and growled straight into the man’s face. All the color went out of the messenger’s face, and he actually whimpered, which did a lot to cheer Chappie up.

  “You have thirty seconds to tell me who you are and what you want,” he said conversationally. “And then I’m going to bite off your nose and swallow it.”

  “I’m a messenger for the Queen! I’ve got the scroll right here! Oh, Jesus, I think I’ve wet myself.”

  “This is so embarrassing,” said Tiffany.

  “Now you know how I feel,” said Chappie.

  Sir Vivian got to the Court first, and was surprised and not a little shocked to find that none of his people were present to guard and protect the Queen. The great double doors were locked, but the only person there to open them was the Queen’s companion, Cally. Sir Vivian nodded briefly to her as she let him in. He’d never had much to do with Cally. The warrior woman was part of Felicity’s inner circle, to which he had very definitely never been privy. Sir Vivian had always been King Harald’s man. Still, he approved of Cally in a distant sort of way. She was very protective of the Queen, and the infant King, and took no nonsense from anyone, least of all Harald’s people. He gave her plenty of room as he advanced quickly on the Throne and bowed to the Q
ueen.

  “Your Majesty, please allow me to send for some of my people. You are not secure here.”

  “Hardly anyone knows I’m here,” said Felicity. “Secrecy has always been my best protection. Besides, I’ve got you and Cally. I’m sure I can rely on you two to keep order. Now we can’t start till everyone’s here, so be a good High Commander of the Guard, and go and do something protective somewhere else for a while, so I can think in peace. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  Sir Vivian sighed resignedly. “Could Your Majesty at least tell me what this is all about?”

  “Not really, no. Be patient with your Queen, Sir Vivian. She’s making this all up as she goes along. Go and talk with Cally. She’s as nervous about this as you are. So go and annoy each other and let me concentrate. That’s an order.”

  Sir Vivian swallowed several icy and cutting remarks that would have made him feel much better, but which somehow he knew would do nothing to improve the situation. He settled for a resigned sigh, bowed formally to the Queen, and walked stiffly back to join Cally by the closed double doors. They stood side by side for a while, not looking at each other.

  “You know,” Cally said finally, “there are times when I feel Her Royal Majesty’s disposition could be greatly improved by a swift kick to the behind.”

  Sir Vivian laughed briefly, in spite of himself. “I think that’s probably true of most royalty. They’re never more trouble than when they start thinking. I take it she hasn’t discussed this special Court session with you, either?”

  “Not so you’d notice. And she usually runs most things by me, even when she knows I won’t approve. Perhaps especially then. She knows I always have her best interests at heart. But she put this particular piece of insanity together by herself. All I know for sure is that she’s sent out personal invitations to a few select movers and shakers for a private little chat. You’re one of them. Though what good she thinks more talking is going to do at this late date …”

  “Exactly,” agreed Sir Vivian. “We’re well past the point where talking can change anything. Everyone’s drawn their own line in the sand, and now they’re just waiting for the first person to put one foot wrong. I wish the Queen would confide in me more. How can I protect her properly if I don’t know which directions the threats are likely to be coming from?”

  “Don’t take it personally,” said Cally. “She must trust you, or she wouldn’t have called you here to be her defender. There are a lot of other people she could have called who are noticeable here by their absence.”

  “Does she trust me?” asked Sir Vivian, looking at Cally for the first time. “I’ve never been sure. After I failed her husband—”

  “Of course she trusts you,” said Cally, meeting Sir Vivian’s cold eyes directly. “You’re one of the few people left in the Castle she knows she can depend on. You’re the hero of Tower Rouge, the peasants’ defender; last I heard there were twenty-seven ballads and eight plays about you. No one blames you for the King’s death. Even the Magus couldn’t protect the King from whoever killed him. No one in the whole Castle thinks you failed, except you. Believe me, the Queen trusts you. And so do I.” She smiled at him suddenly. “I’m something of a fan, you know. Even before I came here with Felicity, I’d read all the books on the Tower Rouge siege. They’re best-sellers in Hillsdown. You’re as well known there as Prince Rupert and Princess Julia.”

  Sir Vivian shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m surprised I’m not seen as a villain in Hillsdown.”

  “We admire warriors,” said Cally. “And you’ve always been one of my special heroes.”

  Sir Vivian could feel his cheeks warming just a little. “You don’t want to believe anything you read in books,” he said gruffly. “And the songs are even less accurate. The real hero of Tower Rouge was my brother, Gawaine. I just stayed to keep him company.”

  “Balls,” said Cally. “I’ve read the accounts written by Hillsdown survivors of that siege. They said you were unstoppable with a sword in your hand. That you never wavered, despite the impossible odds. That they did everything but hack you to pieces, and still they couldn’t get you to retreat or surrender. Your name is another word for courage and duty and honor in Hillsdown.”

  “Just shows what distance can add to a legend,” said Sir Vivian.

  “Why do you run yourself down like that?” asked Cally. “There are heroes with ballads to their names who haven’t done half the things you’ve done. You held Hob’s Gateway when all but you and your brother had fled. No one would have called you a coward if you’d left, too. Any general would have said the Tower couldn’t be held against such odds. But you two stood against a whole damned army and would not be moved.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “All right, what was it like? Really? Tell me. I’ve always wanted to know.”

  “It all happened so quickly,” said Sir Vivian. Held by Cally’s intense gaze, he never even considered not answering. “Everyone else was running. On horse or on foot, leaving behind anything that would slow them down, even their armor and weapons. They called themselves soldiers, and they ran like rabbits. It was the sensible thing to do. Even our commander agreed. One small company couldn’t hope to stand against the army that was coming. But Gawaine wouldn’t leave. He never even considered it. Because he knew that if the Tower fell, the Hillsdown forces would sweep right through Hob’s Gateway and on into the undefended heartland of the Forest Land. Hundreds of small towns and villages at the mercy of a Hillsdown army baying for blood to avenge their recent string of defeats. The slaughter of helpless civilians would have been horrific.

  “Gawaine was convinced we could hold the Tower, and whoever held Tower Rouge controlled access to Hob’s Gateway. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t be moved. He knew his duty. So I stayed with him. Because he was my beloved brother, and I couldn’t leave him to die alone. And perhaps because I was looking for a good death, a death that mattered, even then. We rigged Tower Rouge with all kinds of deadfalls and booby traps so that there was only one way they could come at us, and then we waited. The waiting was the hardest part.

  “And then the Hillsdown force arrived, and it was even bigger than we’d anticipated. The Hillsdown generals had bet everything on one unexpected thrust while the main Forest army was occupied elsewhere. They hadn’t allowed for two honest fools who thought duty and honor were more than just words. Gawaine and I said good-bye to each other in case there wasn’t time later, and he said he was proud of me. I was always proud of him. And then we took up our positions to meet the first charge with our swords in our hands.

  “I don’t remember much about the actual fighting. It all blurred together after a while. All the blood and the dying, and the screams. There wasn’t time to be brave or to think about what was at stake. We just did what we had to. We’d made sure they could only come at us a few at a time, and we held them off for what seemed like forever. Sometimes I wonder if I’m still there, still fighting, and everything since has been a dream. Gawaine and I fought side by side, even after the ground grew slippery with our own blood. I felt every sword and axe that hit me, but the pain was just something else to fight. I sometimes wonder if I would still have stood my ground if Gawaine had been killed and there was only me left; but I think I would have. In my own way I have always tried to be an honorable man.

  “You know the rest. Inspired by word of our stand, the Forest reinforcements broke all records racing across the Land to get to us in time. They threw back the Hillsdown army and the Land was saved, and no one was more surprised than Gawaine and I to find we were still alive at the end of it, and we’d held Tower Rouge and Hob’s Gateway. We never thought of ourselves as heroes; just soldiers doing the job we had sworn to do.

  “Some years later the King ceded Hob’s Gateway to Hillsdown as part of a diplomatic deal to rationalize the border. So what was it all for, really?”

  “Duty and honor and courage,” said Cally. “What else is there?”
>
  Sir Vivian smiled at her. “I wish I saw things as simply as you.”

  “Real heroes never see themselves as anything special,” said Cally. “That’s part of what makes them a hero in the first place. I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you ever since I came here, but what with one thing and another it never seemed the right time. And I didn’t want to just seek you out like some simpering fan. I’m sure you’ve seen enough of that kind in your time.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded,” Sir Vivian said slowly. “You have a reputation, too, as a brave and canny warrior, and a selfless defender of the Queen. I’m sure we would have found something to talk about.”

  “You’ve always been my hero,” said Cally. “Only unlike most of the heroes in the songs, you really did do most of the things they said you did.”

  “I’ve done other things, too. Less worthy things.”

  “I know. Harald told Felicity, and she told me. But even your betrayal arose out of your honor, your need to protect the Land. Harald knew that. That’s why he Pardoned you, made you High Commander. Because he needed someone he could trust to care for the Land and protect it. Even from him.”

  For a long moment Sir Vivian looked at Cally, seeing himself through her eyes. And through her words, allowed himself some of the comfort he had never felt able to justify giving himself. He looked into her steady gaze, approving but not hero-struck, and thought suddenly that she was attractive, in an unconventional way. And her smile, free and open, touched him in a way no other’s had since he was a young man being smiled on by Queen Eleanor. He smiled back at Cally, an unexpected warmth from a cold man, and something stirred in both their hearts, and both of them knew it.

  “The magic,” Cally said finally. “The magic you wielded at Court. That was something new. Impressive. Unexpected. Have you always had it?”

  “Perhaps,” said Sir Vivian. “But I wasn’t able to use it until fairly recently. I never wanted it, you see. I was afraid it would make me like my parents. Most people inherit weak eyes or receding hairlines. I got magic. But magic corrupts. Makes it too easy to get your own way. With magic you never have to earn anything, so you never really value anything. Magic makes it far too easy to treat people as pawns, as things. So I made myself into a soldier, a warrior, and what I won, I won honestly, by my own efforts. So that people would see me for what I was, and not what I was expected to be.”