Blue Moon Rising

by Simon R. Green

“Right,” said Julia evenly. “Just back steadily towards the door. No sudden moves, nothing that might upset them. Take it easy, and we’ll get out of this in one piece yet.”

  “But they’re demons! You saw what they did to the Seneschal!”

  “So what!” snarled Julia. “Ram a yard of cold steel through them and they’ll die just as easily as any man! I ought to know, I’ve done it before, remember?”

  “How many of the damn things are there?” asked Bodeen more quietly, and Julia relaxed a little.

  “A dozen, no more.”

  “Why aren’t they coming after us?”

  “Beats me. Maybe the sudden light from the window blinded them, and they don’t know how many of us there are.”

  “Once they realise, we’re in trouble.”

  “Right. How much further to the door?”

  Bodeen glanced back over his shoulder. “Nearly there, Princess. How’s the Seneschal?”

  “I don’t know. He’s in pretty bad shape.”

  “How bad?”

  “Bad enough. And he’s the only one who knows the way out of here.”

  “Terrific,” said Bodeen.

  They’d almost made it to the open door when the demons burst out of their darkness. Their eyes glowed blood-red, and their twisted pallid shapes came flying through the dim light like so many misshapen ghosts. Julia and Bodeen threw the Seneschal into the antechamber, and then sprang through after him. Bodeen slammed the door shut in the demons’ faces, and then sheathed his sword and hung on to the door knob with both hands to keep them from pulling the door open.

  “Lock it!” he yelled to Julia.

  “There’s no key!”

  “How about bolts?”

  There were two, top and bottom. They were both rusted into place, and Julia wrestled the top one loose as the door heaved and shuddered under the demons’ assault. There was the sound of claws tearing into wood. Julia slammed the top bolt home, and then turned quickly to the bottom bolt. It snapped off in her hand, rusted clean through. Julia and Bodeen looked at each other.

  “That door isn’t going to hold them long,” said Bodeen quietly.

  “It doesn’t have to,” said the Seneschal. “We’ve got to lead them into the counting room.”

  Julia and Bodeen spun round to find the Seneschal getting unsteadily to his feet. His face was pale, and streaked with drying blood, but his eyes were back in focus. Bodeen moved quickly over to support him, and the Seneschal nodded his thanks.

  “The demons will break in here any minute. Bodeen, help me through that door into the counting room. Princess, you follow us, but stay in the doorway so that the demons can see you. When they have, you can fall back to join us. Don’t let them lose sight of you, but don’t let them catch you, either. Got it?”

  “Not really,” said Julia. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Of course,” snapped the Seneschal testily. “I always know what I’m doing. Now give me the lantern.”

  Julia and Bodeen exchanged a glance. The antechamber door trembled as the demons hammered on it.

  “What the hell,” said Julia, handing the lantern to the Seneschal. “A short life, but an interesting one. Get him out of here, Bodeen. I’ll hold the doorway.”

  Bodeen nodded curtly, and half led, half carried the Seneschal out of the antechamber and into the counting room. Julia turned back to face the shaking door before her, and Julia hefted her sword uncertainly. Silhouetted against the light, she made an obvious target. She frowned, and then backed away from the groaning door to stand hidden in the shadows of the open counting-room door. She’d let the demons see her when she was good and ready, and not before. And then the straining bolt finally tore itself free from its socket, and the antechamber door flew open. The corpse-pale demons poured into the antechamber like maggots oozing from a game bird that had been left hanging too long. Their eerie pupil-less eyes glowed crimson in the gloom as they peered hungrily about them for their prey. Julia stood very still, and waited patiently for something to come within range of her sword.

  The demons sniffed at the still air, and then lowered their misshapen heads to the floor, like so many hounds searching out a scent. The sight might have been funny if it hadn’t been so horrible. And then either they found a trail or Julia made a sound without realising, for one by one the demons raised their heads to stare unblinkingly in her direction, and Julia knew the shadows weren’t deep enough to hide her. She stepped quickly forward to block the doorway, sweeping her sword back and forth before her. Light gleamed dully the length of the blade. One of the demons leapt forward, and Julia cut it down with one stroke of her sword. The creature fell to writhe silently on the thick carpet, and then the other demons were upon her.

  The Seneschal had told her to lead the demons back into the counting room, but Julia knew that once she fell back through the doorway, they’d roll right over her. The narrowness of the door meant the demons could only come at her in twos and threes, but it was only a matter of time before the sheer weight of numbers would wear her down, and she’d have to retreat back into the counting room. And then they’d take her.

  Julia swung her sword with all her weight behind it, and demon blood flew on the air as a growing ache built in her muscles. She ripped open a demon’s belly with a sideways sweep of her blade, and then had to fall back a step to avoid the clawed hand that narrowly missed her throat. She realised she was no longer protected by the doorway, and fell back again as the demons surged forward. And then Bodeen was beside her, adding his sword to hers.

  The demons fell back before the two flashing blades, and Julia leaped aside as Bodeen slammed the door shut in their faces. Julia looked quickly for the bolts, and swore harshly when she realised there weren’t any. Bodeen set his back against the door as the first claws began ripping into the wood.

  “When I give the word,” he said calmly, “head for the outer door.”

  Julia nodded, and then looked round just in time to see the Seneschal pull the outer door too, plunging the room into darkness. Julia bit her lip and hefted her sword.

  “I hope somebody knows what they’re doing,” she said loudly, and wasn’t all that reassured when the Seneschal just chuckled dryly.

  “Get ready,” said Bodeen. “I can’t hold them …” The door surged open a few inches, pushing him back. A clawed hand snaked past the door, glowing palely in the dark. “Now, Julia! Go now!”

  Bodeen jumped back, and Julia ran for the outer door. The demons flew after her, ignoring Bodeen as he hid behind the opened door. Julia got to the outer door and pushed it open. Bright sunlight flooded into the room. The Seneschal grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side, but the demons just stumbled on, blinded by the sudden light. Julia grinned savagely as she finally understood. She attacked the demons from the side while Bodeen harried them from the rear, and it was the easiest thing in the world to drive the nine surviving demons through the door and out into the long drop.

  Julia lowered her sword and sank wearily to the floor. Her head ached fiercely, and her arms were as heavy as lead. Fatigue shivered in her legs, and just sitting there with her back pressed against the wall, Julia felt like she could sleep for a week. She shuddered at the thought. It had been bad enough lying in bed at night, knowing that while she slept the Darkwood drew steadily closer, but somehow she’d always thought the Castle’s thick walls would keep her safe from demons. It came hard to her, to realise that nowhere was safe any more. Julia clutched her sword fiercely, and wondered if she’d ever dare sleep again.

  Bodeen bent over her, and whistled softly as, for the first time he saw the blood on her face and arms. “Princess, you’re hurt.”

  “Cuts and bruises, Bodeen, nothing more. Help me up.”

  He helped her stand, and then waited patiently as she leaned heavily on his supporting arm until her head cleared. After a while she pushed him away, and turned to the Seneschal, who was busily relighting his lantern with flint and steel.


  “How are you feeling, sir Seneschal?”

  “I’ve felt better, Princess.” He finally coaxed his candle alight, and closed the lantern. “It probably looks worse than it is.”

  “You looked pretty bad when we dragged you out from under those demons,” said Bodeen, and the Seneschal grimaced.

  “Don’t remind me. I thought my time had come.”

  “You should rest for a while,” said Bodeen.

  “I’m all right,” snapped the Seneschal. “Don’t fuss. There’ll be plenty of time to rest when we get back. Right now, I’m more worried about the Armoury. I hate to think how much damage the demons could have caused there. How the hell did those creatures get into the Castle?”

  “Somebody let them in,” said Julia simply. “We have a traitor among us.”

  For a moment, they just stood and stared at each other. Bodeen scowled, and the Seneschal shook his head dazedly. Julia smiled grimly.

  “Remember the demons who wait and watch outside our walls at night? Well, now we know where they hide during the day.”

  “I just can’t believe it, Princess,” said the Seneschal slowly. “Who’d be mad enough to bring demons into the Castle itself?”

  “More to the point,” said Bodeen suddenly, “why bring them into the South Wing?”

  The Seneschal’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with horror. “Of course, the Armoury! The bloody Armoury!”

  He turned and ran through the side door into the antechamber. Julia and Bodeen exchanged a startled glance, and then plunged into the darkness after him. They followed the Seneschal through dozens of dimly lit rooms and corridors, his lantern bobbing ahead of them like a beckoning will-o’-the-wisp on a moonless night. Julia soon lost all sense of direction, and concentrated on running. She had a strong feeling that if she stumbled or fell, the Seneschal would just leave her behind.

  The Seneschal finally came to a halt before a pair of massive oaken doors, easily eight feet tall, and almost as wide. The carved and curlicued wood gleamed dully in the golden lanternlight as he reached out and pushed gently at the left-hand door. It swung smoothly open at his touch, the counterweights creaking loudly in the silence. For a moment the Seneschal just stood there, staring into the darkness beyond the doors, and then his shoulders slumped and all the strength went out of him. He staggered, and would have fallen if Julia and Bodeen hadn’t been there to support him.

  “What is it, sir Seneschal?” asked Julia, scowling worriedly. “What’s so important about the damn doors?”

  “Don’t you understand?” whispered the Seneschal, staring sickly at the open door. “The Armoury’s been breached! The Curtana’s unguarded …”

  He shrugged free of Julia and Bodeen, and led them into the Old Armoury. Beyond the massive doors lay a towering hall so vast the Seneschal’s lantern couldn’t begin to light it. Julia started as a suit of armour loomed up out of the darkness, and then relaxed slightly when she realised it was only an exhibit. Dozens of huge display cases lay scattered across the hall, showing swords and axes, longbows and lances, mains gauches and morningstars, in all their variations. Julia peered raptly about her as she moved slowly through the vast, dark hall in her narrow pool of light, awestruck by the sheer size of the collection. Rupert’s ancestors had built up the Armoury over twelve generations, weapon upon weapon, until now it would have taken more than one man’s lifetime just to catalogue it all. Julia felt her hackles rise as for the first time she realised just how ancient Forest Castle was.

  The Seneschal stopped suddenly before a dusty wall plaque, set in a deep recess that hid it from casual view. The single silver scabbard it bore was tarnished and begrimed from long neglect, but there was no sign of the sword it once held. The Seneschal sighed tiredly.

  “It’s gone,” he said heavily. “Curtana’s gone.”

  “But the Sword of Compulsion’s our only hope against the demons,” said Bodeen. “Who’d be mad enough to steal it?”

  “Somebody who stood to gain if the Castle fell,” said the Seneschal. “And these days, that description covers an awful lot of ground.”

  “All this way,” said Julia, too tired even to be bitter. “All this way for nothing. Come on, sir Seneschal, let’s get out of here.”

  “Of course, Princess. The King must be told.” The Seneschal turned his back on the empty scabbard, and stared out into the darkness. “Somewhere in this Castle there’s a traitor. We’ve got to find him, Princess. We’ve got to find him and the Curtana, before it’s too late.”

  “Perhaps it already is,” said Bodeen quietly. “Perhaps it already is.”

  Julia stared out of the stables at the falling rain, and sighed dejectedly. The afternoon was barely over, but it was already growing dark. The rain had been falling for over an hour, a steady persistent drizzle that wore at the nerves and worked its way down even the tallest chimneys to make the fires splutter and steam. Water gushed from the drainpipes and the overhanging guttering, turning the courtyard into a sea of mud. It dripped through the many cracks in the thatched stable roof, and pattered noisily on the straw-covered floor. The stable creaked and groaned as the rain hit it, and Julia stared out of the open stable door and sighed again, perhaps in sympathy. Behind her, the dragon stirred.

  “You should be in your room, resting,” he said sternly.

  Julia smiled, but didn’t look round. “I’m all right. A few more interesting scars to add to my collection, that’s all. The Seneschal took the worst of it; I don’t know how he stayed on his feet long enough to get us out of the South Wing. The surgeon took one look at him and ordered him to his bed, but he wouldn’t go until he’d spoken to the King. Bodeen and I were all that was holding him up, but he wouldn’t give in. He’s a tough old bird, that Seneschal. Didn’t pass out until he’d told the King everything he knew and suspected about the Armoury break-in. Bodeen and I carried him back to his rooms. He’s sleeping now. Tough old bird.”

  “You should get some rest yourself,” said the dragon. “I can smell the pain and tiredness in you.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” said Julia. “Not yet. I need to talk to someone.”

  “What is it this time?” said the dragon gently. “Someone threatening to make you take etiquette lessons again?”

  “Hardly. I’ve been excused lessons since all my tutors refused to enter the same room as me unless they were granted an armed escort first.”

  “What is it, then? What’s troubling you?”

  “I don’t know.” Julia turned away from the stable door, and moved over to sit down beside the dragon. The thick layer of straw softened the earth floor as she leaned back against his huge, comforting side. The falling rain became a pleasant background murmur, and the constant drip of water from the thatch was strangely soothing. The scent of freshly scattered hay hung heavily on the air, rich and earthy, and the dragon could feel Julia’s muscles slowly relaxing.

  “Dragon,” she said finally, “what happened to the horses that used to live here?”

  “Delicious,” said the dragon solemnly.

  Julia elbowed him sharply in the side, and he grunted obligingly, though she doubted he actually felt it. “You didn’t really eat all those lovely horses, did you?”

  “No, Julia, I moved in and they moved out. At a gallop, as I recall.”

  Julia laughed, and snuggled back against his smooth scales. Sometimes it seemed the dragon was the only friend she had left in the world, an island of calm in an ocean of storms. After Rupert had left, the dragon had wandered aimlessly round the Castle, sleeping where he felt like it, and eating anything that didn’t either run away or actively fight back. Eventually he’d settled down in one of the old stables, and showed every sign of staying there as long as someone brought him his meals regularly. The Castle staff quickly volunteered to take care of that, and heaved a collective sigh of relief. Between the dragon’s appetite and Julia’s sudden rages, they’d never done so much running and dodging in their lives.

  “Ho
w are you feeling?” Julia asked the dragon, and he shrugged slightly.

  “Better, I suppose. Casting the spell to summon the Rainbow Run took a lot out of me. Then the demons, swarming over me, tearing at me with their fangs and claws. And finally I had to breathe fire, and that hurt me, Julia, hurt me deep down inside. By the time Rupert called down the Rainbow I was dying, and it seems there’s a limit to how much even the Wild Magic can do. It saved my life, but only time can heal me. I’m going to have to hibernate soon, and sleep until I’m healed. If I can still heal. Magic is going out of the world, and magical creatures like myself are having a harder time of it.” The dragon smiled sadly. “Or perhaps I’m just getting old, even for a dragon. I haven’t seen or heard of another of my kind in over three hundred years. Perhaps I’m the last. The last dragon in the world of men.”

  “Three hundred years,” said Julia slowly. “Didn’t you ever get lonely!”

  “As a rule, dragons aren’t particularly gregarious. We each have our territories and our hoards, and we guard them jealously. But, yes, there have been times this last century when I would have welcomed the sight of another of my kind. It’s been so long since I soared on the night winds with my brethren … so very long.”

  “When all this is over, we’ll go and look for some more dragons,” said Julia.

  “Yes,” said the dragon kindly. “When all this is over.”

  Julia stared up at the thatch overhead, and listened to the falling rain. “Dragon, do you think there’s something … wrong with me?”

  “No. Why?”

  “It’s those damn Ladies-in-Waiting. They make me feel like a freak because I don’t want to get married and settle down to raising a family. I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

  “Then don’t,” said the dragon.

  Julia scowled. “It’s just that sometimes … sometimes I wonder if they’re right. If there is something wrong with me. All my friends and most of my sisters are married, and they seem happy enough. Mostly. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am missing out on something. I just don’t see why I have to give up being me to get married. I’m supposed to marry Harald, but all he wants is a combination lover and serving-maid. Well he can forget that for a start. And if he gooses me one more time I’ll raise his voice with a well-placed knee.”