So that’s what the moat monster looks like, thought Rupert. I often wondered. He’s certainly … impressive.
A demon sprang out of the darkness, and Rupert gutted it in midair. It grabbed at his buckler as it fell, and Rupert had to cut the shield free from his arm before the demon’s weight could drag him out of his saddle. Something with steaming bloodred eyes came flying out of the shadows and slammed into his chest, almost throwing him from the saddle. The creature clung to his chain mail vest with a dozen legs, and snapped at his unprotected throat. Rupert brought up his left arm to guard his throat, and the demon sank its jaws into his flesh, biting clean through to the bone. Rupert groaned, and tried to reach the creature with his sword, but it clung too closely to his chest, its jaws locked on his arm. Other demons were quick to spot his vulnerability, and came racing toward him out of the night. Rupert tried again to lift his sword, but all he could think of was the awful, tearing pain in his left arm.
And then the Champion’s axe came out of nowhere and sliced clean through the demon’s guts. Its jaws relaxed as it died, and Rupert was finally able to tear his arm free. He turned to thank the Champion, but the press of the fighting had already carried him away.
For a moment Rupert found himself in a quiet part of the battle, and he took advantage of the lull to check his injured arm. White shards of splintered bone showed clearly in the wound, but he could still move his fingers. Rupert gritted his teeth against the pain, and slipped his left arm under his swordbelt, pulling the belt tight to hold the arm securely. Not much of a sling, but it would have to do. I’m not having much luck with this arm, he thought shakily. That’s another healing job for the High Warlock. The thought reminded him of the way the supporting magic had suddenly stopped, and he twisted around in the saddle to look back at Forest Castle. The battlements were brightly lit with dozens of flaring torches, but there was no sign of any of the magicians. Rupert swore harshly, and then turned quickly back as the demons pressed forward again.
Step by step, he was forced back with the rest of the army, and yet, although there were as many demons as ever, the press of battle was slowly easing, as the piled-up bodies of the dead and the dying now formed a high barricade between the army and its attackers. Rupert looked vaguely around him, searching for familiar faces among the survivors, and frowned as he realized he couldn’t see Julia anymore. He sat up straight in the saddle, and then froze as he spotted Julia standing alone with her back to a tree, surrounded by demons, a good dozen yards outside the barricade.
Rupert took a firm grip on his sword and urged the unicorn forward, but the animal only managed a few steps before he stumbled and almost fell. Rupert looked down and swallowed sickly as he saw the blood running thickly down the unicorn’s heaving sides. He quickly dismounted, and checked the unicorn for other wounds. A demon came scrambling over the barricade. Rupert killed it before it hit the ground, and turned back to the unicorn.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” snapped the unicorn breathlessly. “Get back in the saddle before the demons get you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
“We’re all hurt, Rupert.”
“You’re in no condition to carry me any farther. Move back to the edge of the moat, and get yourself across the drawbridge the moment it’s lowered. That shouldn’t be long now.”
“Forget it. You wouldn’t last five minutes without me.”
“Breeze …”
“No. I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m giving you an order!”
“Stuff your order. You freed me, remember?”
“Breeze, for once in your life will you please do as I ask? I’ve got to go and help Julia; she needs me. We’ll both join you the moment my father calls the retreat, I promise. Now move yourself, while you’ve still got the strength.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” growled the unicorn. He started toward the rear of the embattled army, his head hanging limply down. Rupert watched him just long enough to be sure he’d get there all right, and then turned and headed for the barricade. He had to get to Julia …
Harald and King John fought back-to-back, the two Infernal Devices keeping the demons at bay. Blood dripped steadily from their torn armor, not all of it demon blood. Rupert waited a moment to be sure their attention was fully on the demons, and then pulled himself up onto the barricade. He didn’t think his father would try and stop him, but he couldn’t take the risk. The piled-up bodies shifted and stirred under his weight, and Rupert froze where he was, crouched in shadows. Most of the demons seemed to be concentrating on breaking through the barrier, rather than looking for people coming out over it. Soon there was another lull in the fighting in his area and, choosing his moment carefully, Rupert scrambled down the other side of the barricade, wincing and cursing under his breath as every jolt or sudden movement shot pain through his injured arm. And then he was on the ground and running toward Julia, sword in hand.
Julia kept her back pressed against the rotting tree, and swung Wolfsbane back and forth before her in wide, killing arcs. Decaying bodies lay piled around her, but still the demons came, leaping and clawing. Julia hacked viciously at the foul-grinning creatures before her, knowing it was only a matter of time before she grew too tired or too slow, and then they would drag her down. She hoped it would be a quick death, but feared it wouldn’t. Her blade faltered as her concentration slipped, and a demon ducked under the sword and lunged for her throat. A backhand slash cut the creature in two, but left Julia’s defenses wide open. The demons surged forward.
Rupert slammed into them from behind, and the demons scattered as he fought his way through them to stand at Julia’s side. For a long time there was nothing but flashing steel and flying blood, and then the demons suddenly retreated back into the shadows, leaving Rupert and Julia standing alone before the rotting tree. They slowly lowered their swords and stared warily about them. The darkness still seethed with misshapen life, but the demons seemed to be falling back into the Darkwood. The army watched suspiciously from behind its barricade, and made no more to pursue them.
“It’s not like the demons to give in that easily,” panted Rupert, leaning heavily on his sword as he fought to get more air into his heaving lungs. “They’re up to something. Have to be.”
“Seems likely,” said Julia. She sat down suddenly as her legs gave out, and after a moment Rupert joined her. He glanced dubiously at Wolfsbane.
“That thing any good, as a sword?”
“I’ve known worse.”
Rupert stared glumly at the dead bodies lying heaped around them, purulent with decay. He looked sideways at Julia, and raised a sardonic eyebrow. “You know, lass; there has to be an easier way to make a living.”
They grinned at each other, too tired to laugh. Rupert looked closely at Julia’s wound, and frowned.
“You’re hurt,” he said harshly.
“So are you,” said Julia. “But you still managed to save my life.”
“You’d have done the same for me.”
“How bad is that arm?”
“Bad enough, lass. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve felt better.”
Rupert put his good arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against his chest. They sat in silence a while, easing their hurts by sharing them. Rupert knew he should be getting Julia back to the rest of the army while the demons were still quiet, but he hadn’t the strength.
“If nothing else,” said Julia, “I’ll have a few more interesting scars to add to my collection.”
“Same here,” said Rupert.
Julia stirred restively against his chest. “Rupert, this battle isn’t going very well, is it.”
“It’s been a bloody fiasco, lass. Most of us are dead, or dying. Without the High Warlock’s magic to back us up, we were nothing more than sitting targets. It’s a wonder any of us have survived.”
“Rupert … can you hear something?”
“Wha
t?”
“There’s something out there, Rupert; something big. And it’s coming this way.”
Rupert looked out into the night, and then scrambled to his feet, sword in hand. Julia slowly got herself up and stood beside him, leaning heavily on Wolfsbane for support. Deep in the night, a soft blue glow was forming; the same vile shade as the Full Moon overhead. The blue glow came slowly forward out of the Darkwood, rising and falling and shifting constantly from one vague shape to another. Demons stirred uneasily in the shadows, and shrank back into the darkness. What the hell’s out there? thought Rupert. What could be so bad that even the demons are afraid of it? He remembered the worm in the Coppertown pit, and moved forward a little to put himself between Julia and whatever was coming out of the darkness. The army watched unmoving from behind its grisly barricade.
A deep bass roar sounded on the night, a long deafening bellow of unreasoning malevolent rage. The sound echoed on through Rupert’s bones, even after the roar had died away to a low menacing growl, and then to silence. Rupert shot a quick glance at the army’s barricade, but quickly decided against making a run for it. Whatever was coming wasn’t going to be stopped by a simple barricade. A slow muffled thudding began, like the beating of a giant heart, and Rupert felt his hackles rise. He’d heard that sound before, when he first brought the High Warlock back to the Castle. The ground shook beneath his feet, and once again Rupert felt a coldness in his soul as he recognized the sound for what it was; the steady ponderous footsteps of something huge walking in the night, coming closer, closer. The ever-present stench of decay and corruption grew worse as the shapeless blue glow drifted nearer, and the giant footsteps jarred the earth like hammer blows. The hovering blue light finally came to a halt some twenty yards short of the army, and the footsteps stopped with it. The light pulsed once, outlining the rotting trees with its shark brilliance, and then faded away, revealing the horror it had hidden.
It had obviously been dead for some time, but it moved and was aware. Its dull white flesh was dry and mummified, eaten away in places to reveal the discolored bones beneath. It stood nearly fifty feet tall, its squat, wedge-shaped head half hidden in shadows. Its wide slash of a mouth was filled with huge, serrated teeth, and balefire burned where its eyes should have been. It had two arms and two legs and it stood erect, but there was nothing in the least human about it. A long barbed tail swept back and forth behind it, smashing apart the decaying trees as the creature moved among them. It was dead, and it was aware. It had lain in the ground for years beyond counting, but something had called it up and sent it out to kill again. The ground trembled under its feet, and its hatred thundered on the stinking air.
“The swords!” cried King John. “The Infernal Devices! They’re our only hope!”
He scrambled up and over the barricade, with Harald close behind him. The army made as though to follow, but the King waved them back. King John stalked forward to meet the creature, and Harald and Rupert and Julia moved in behind him. The creature’s head turned to follow them, the flames in its eyesockets flaring and jumping from the sudden movement. The King came to a sudden halt, glared up at the creature, and then thrust Rockbreaker deep into the ground before him. The earth heaved and tore itself apart, groaning like a wounded animal, but still the creature stood, braced securely on its huge legs and tail. The King withdrew Rockbreaker, and Harald stepped forward and lifted Flarebright above his head. Scarlet flames caressed the length of the blade, and then a bloody balefire leapt out from the sword and splashed against the creature’s chest. It screamed its rage, but the flames barely marked its dead flesh. Julia circled round to the creature’s left, Wolfsbane at the ready. The creature moved its head to follow her, and Rupert circled round to its right. He wasn’t sure what good he could do against something that was already dead, especially when all the Infernal Devices had done was anger it, but he had to do something. Flarebright’s flame cut off suddenly as Harald lowered the sword, and the creature lurched forward. It reached for Julia with a clawed hand, and Wolfbane gleamed brightly as it sliced clean through the mummified flesh. The creature snatched back its hand. Even in the dim light, Rupert could see that Wolfsbane had laid the hand open to the bone. There was no blood, but the wound was already corrupt and gangrenous. The creature growled once, and reached for Julia again.
Harald lifted Flarebright, and vivid crimson balefire forced the creature to a halt. King John thrust Rockbreaker into the ground, and left it there. The sword stood upright, glowing fiercely against the dark, and jagged cracks opened up in the earth, racing away from the sword and toward the creature. Gaping crevasses appeared all around the towering creature, but still it wouldn’t fall. Julia ran forward and cut at the creature’s legs. It howled with murderous rage, and Julia had to throw herself flat as a huge clawed hand swept viciously through the air where her head had been. It reached for her again, and Rupert moved in behind the creature and hacked clean through its left ankle. The exposed tendon snapped like an over-stretched cable, and the creature roared deafeningly as its leg collapsed under it. It lurched backwards, and then fell full length into a gaping crevasse. The loose earth gave way beneath Rupert’s feet like shifting sands, and he suddenly found himself sliding into the chasm after the creature. He tossed away his sword, threw himself at the edge, and just made it, hanging on grimly with his one good hand while his legs dangled over the long drop. The crumbling earth started to come apart under his fingers, and then Julia grabbed him by the wrist, and held onto him until he could scramble up onto firmer ground.
King John pulled Rockbreaker out of the ground, and the earth grew still again. Rupert retrieved his sword, and he and Julia helped one another to their feet, leaning on each other as much for comfort as support. And then a long angry roar echoed up out of the earth, and a huge dead-white hand appeared out of the crevasse and sank its claws deep into the earth. The great wedge-shaped head appeared over the edge of the chasm, its balefire eyes glowing brightly as the creature sought to pull itself out of the pit. Harald lunged forward and thrust Flarebright deep into the creature’s neck. Bloodred flames consumed the creature’s flesh, and it howled horribly. It jerked back its head in agony, pulling the sword out of Harald’s grasp. Crimson flames roared up about the creature’s head, but it wouldn’t release its hold on the side of the crevasse. Julia moved forward and plunged Wolfsbane into the creature’s throat, all the way to the hilt. The dead-white flesh decayed and rotted before her eyes, and Flarebright’s flames surged even higher. The creature released its hold and fell back into the pit, taking Flarebright and Wolfsbane with it. It disappeared from sight, and then the sides of the crevasse slammed together, and the night was still and quiet again.
Rupert stood beside Julia, who was staring quietly at where the chasm had been. “You let go of the sword,” he said softly. “Why?”
“I didn’t like what it was doing to me,” said Julia, and turned her back on the broken earth.
King John looked back at what remained of his army, huddled together at the edge of the moat behind their barricade of piled-up bodies. Out in the darkness, he could hear the first faint stirrings of the returning demon hoard. He stared out into the endless night, and a soft blue glow appeared, deep in the heart of the darkness, followed by another, and another, and another. King John hefted Rockbreaker in his hand, and a sudden temptation ran through him, to unleash all the sword’s power in one final gesture that would destroy the Forest and everything in it. The moment passed, and he shook his head wearily. Perhaps it would come to that, and nothing would remain to him but to avenge the Land’s destruction, but not yet. He would wait, until there was no more hope, and the Castle had fallen, and then … he would make his decision. The demons were getting closer. The King turned back to his waiting army.
“Retreat!” he called harshly. “There’s nothing more we can do here. Stand ready, the gatehouse! Lower the drawbridge!”
There was a distant clanking of chains and counterweights from the
Keep, and the drawbridge slowly lowered itself over the moat. Tired, broken and defeated, the survivors of the last army of the Forest Land streamed across the drawbridge as fast as their wounds and exhaustion would allow. Their banners lay torn and bloodied beneath the bodies of the dead, and there was no hope left in them. Harald and King John stood together by the drawbridge, giving what comfort and encouragement they could to the warriors who shambled past them. They had led the army out to battle, and they would be the last to retreat; it was expected of them. Rupert and Julia stood to one side, their arms around each other, their eyes dull with a bone-deep weariness. The Champion stood alone a few yards from the drawbridge, staring out into the dark. His face was calm and cold, and though his armor was caked with blood, his back was still straight and his head unbowed.
There was a sudden roaring in the darkness close at hand, and the moat monster crashed out of the shadows, surrounded by leaping, clawing demons. The monster fought savagely, despite his many wounds, but there were just too many demons, even for him. He dragged himself across the broken earth and threw himself into the moat. The ice cracked open under his weight, and then froze over behind him as he disappeared back into the dark waters. He took a dozen demons with him, and none of them returned to the surface.
More demons came pouring out of the darkness, and the few men and women still on the drawbridge panicked, and fled into the Castle. Harald and the King went after them, carefully not running, followed by Rupert and Julia. The Champion stood alone at the edge of the drawbridge, his war axe in his hands. The demon horde came streaming out of the long night, the vile blue moonlight shimmering on their fangs and claws. The Champion smiled slightly and waited for them to come to him.
Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) Page 49