Beyond The Blue Moon

by Simon R. Green

  "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 Queen.

  "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. AH 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 som
ething 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."

  "I know how you feel," said Cally. "I always wanted to be a warrior, ever since I first heard songs of valor as a child, sitting by the family fire. I wanted to be someone, to make a difference in the world. To be important because I earned it, not because of who I happened to be married to. To be someone in my own right, and not what others thought I should be, just because I was a woman. We've both had to fight all our lives just to be seen as ourselves."

  "And that's why we've both been so alone," said Sir Vivian. "Because we insisted on living the life we chose, and not what others tried to choose for us. Because we wouldn't compromise, either in what we thought we should be, or in how we wanted others to see us."

  "I knew you'd understand," said Cally. "We don't have to be alone, you know."

  "No," said Sir Vivian. "Not anymore."

  They were both smiling now, their faces so close, they could feel each other's breath. And then they both looked around, startled, as someone knocked loudly on the other side of the closed double doors. They both stepped back and drew their swords, professional soldiers again. Sir Vivian made sure he had room to work in if need be, and then nodded for Cally to unlock and open the doors. She did so, and Sir Robert Hawke almost fell through the gap.

  He caught his balance with an effort, drew himself up to his full height, and nodded cheerfully to Sir Vivian. His face was flushed and his eyes were very wide. Sir Vivian knew immediately what was wrong with him, and Sir Robert knew that Sir Vivian knew, and he really didn't care. He was flying. He was dressed in his best, but the loud colors he'd chosen clashed hideously, and his jerkin was buttoned wrong. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and his hands moved back and forth uneasily until he noticed and stuck them firmly behind his belt.

  He'd taken a handful of wake-up pills to counteract the downers he'd taken, and right now the various drugs were fighting it out to see which could screw him up the most thoroughly. He was holding himself together through sheer willpower, ignoring what the pills were doing to his body so he could concentrate on keeping his thoughts clear and focused. He met Sir Vivian's disapproving glare and giggled briefly despite himself. He didn't trust himself to bow successfully, so he just nodded to Sir Vivian and set off across the wide open Court. He held his head high and kept his gaze fixed on the Queen on her Throne. If he could just get to her and find out what this meeting was all about, he'd have something specific to concentrate on, to center his whirling mind. The Court seemed impossibly vast as he stumbled on, like those rooms in uneasy dreams where the far wall seems to recede endlessly away. It was getting hard to tell left from right or forward from backward, and his eyes were so intent and focused now that they ached.

  He stopped at what he hoped was a respectful distance from the Throne, and managed a fairly normal bow, though the effort brought fresh beads of sweat popping out on his brow. He smiled at the Queen, hoping it looked more normal than it felt. He was scared. He'd never felt so out of control before. He'd taken far too many pills, and his body was too weakened by long abuse to be able to cope. It was like trying to ride a horse that had suddenly gone mad. And all the time his chemically stimulated thoughts were dashing frantically back and forth inside his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull, producing and discarding desperate plans over and over again, while his mouth struggled with a simple greeting to the Queen. He felt horribly helpless, trapped inside a body that no longer obeyed him, while his thoughts felt like somebody else's. His mind was slowly slipping its moorings, and drifting away on a dark, dark sea.

  "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Sir Robert," said the Queen. Her voice sounded far away, as though it were underwater. "I have also sent for your associates, the three putative Landsgraves, though I'm not sure if they'll be able to join us. Apparently no one's seen hide nor hair of them in some time."

  "Don't know where they are myself just now," said Sir Robert, swaying slightly on his feet. "Still, they're no great loss. Dangerous, treacherous scum. Always plotting something. You wouldn't believe what they wanted me to do. Completely untrustworthy. Unlike me, of course. Work my balls off for the Land. For the people. Even deal with those I can't stand, like those Landsgraves. If you only knew what I saved you from by dealing with those scumbags. Taking their money, listening to their stupid, treacherous plans…"

  He heard his voice running on, and couldn't stop it. His mind was lagging dangerously behind his mouth. By the time he realized he was admitting not only to links With traitors but knowledge of their plans, it was already too late. He forced his mouth shut, his hands clenching into fists as he fought for self-control, his fingernails digging deep enough into his palms to draw blood. The pain helped to steady him a little, until the shock hit him. He'd just given the Queen enough cause to have him dragged away and examined under truthspell. And once they started digging for sec
rets, they'd never stop. Why had he come here? He should never have come here. Not in this condition. He'd betrayed himself, and all the people who believed in him, through his own damned weakness. The Queen leaned forward on her Throne and looked at him closely. Sir Robert wondered if he'd have the strength of will to take his own life rather than betray his cause.

  "Go home, Sir Robert," Felicity said finally. "Go home. You're not well."

  Sir Robert flushed with shame, and couldn't bring himself to do anything more than nod in agreement.

  There was a new knocking at the double doors, and Cally opened them to admit the witch Tiffany and the dog Chappie. Tiffany brushed straight past Cally and Sir Vivian, striding across the Court with Chappie at her side. She took up a determined stance right before the Queen, completely ignoring Sir Robert, and launched right into the speech she'd been preparing all the way to Court.

  "I got here as fast as I could, Your Majesty. You mustn't stay here. It's not safe for you. Powerful magics are stirring somewhere in the Castle. I can feel them, though as yet something prevents me from Seeing their actual location or nature. You must guard yourself. I sense danger, terrible danger."

  "She's right," growled Chappie. "Something bad's coming. I can almost smell it."

  "Calm yourself, my friends," said the Queen. "I'm as safe here as anywhere. And I have summoned the Magus to attend this Court, too."

  Tiffany sniffed loudly. "I don't trust him."

  Felicity smiled. "No one does, dear, but he is terribly useful. Especially at moments like this."

  Another knocking was heard, and the doors opened to admit Allen Chance, the Questor. Tiffany cried out his name and ran back across the Court to take him in her arms, wrapping him in a happy hug that squeezed all the breath right out of him. Chappie romped around them, tail wagging furiously, jumping up at them both until Chance freed a hand to pat him on the head and tug at his ear.