Once In a Blue Moon (15 page)

“She’s got that, all right,” growled King William. “Gets it from her mother. I thought it was charming when I was courting my Lizzie, but I soon found out . . . Anyway, I’m still concerned about why the Forest Court didn’t send us a proper image of Prince Richard. I mean, there are any number of magical devices they could have employed to give us a proper look at him. Do you suppose he’s . . . ugly? One does hear rumours, that the Forest Line is just a little bit inbred . . .”

“Of course he isn’t ugly!” snapped Pool. “Give me strength . . . I met Richard when he was just a lad, when I was visiting the Forest Court with my father, back when we were still doing trade deals, before everything fell apart. Richard was a handsome little devil. And according to my expert intelligence people, who I admit are only utterly competent, he’s grown up into a fine young man.”

“Hold it,” said King William. “You have spies in the Forest Court?”

“Yes, I have spies in the Forest Court! I have spies everywhere. That’s the point of having spies. To tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it, and preferably before they tell anyone else.”

“But . . . do they have spies in my Court?”

“Of course! That’s why we do some things in public and others in private. Look, leave all this to me, William. You’ve never worried about such things before, and it’s a bit late to start now. All you need to know is that I am on top of everything. Now, Prince Richard . . . He has an excellent reputation as a fighter. Seems our Christof isn’t the only Prince who likes to get involved in the border skirmishes when he knows he’s not supposed to. Very popular with his own people. Something of a hero, in fact. You must have read some of the reports I gave you, William.”

“Some,” said the King. “I trust you, Gregory. You say he’s good material, that’s all I need to hear. You don’t think I’d marry my daughter off to a monster, whatever the price, do you?”

The Prime Minister changed the subject. “I’m still trying to find us a half-decent magic-user. Someone with real talent and power, who might be able to bring back some of the Unreal. Just enough to be useful. That marsh gas we found in the swamps isn’t going to last forever, you know. And the more real Castle Midnight becomes, the harder it is to heat and light and maintain the place.”

“I had noticed, thank you,” said the King. “Place is getting old, and grumpy. Like me.”

“Oh, stop it, or I’ll have one of the servants bring you a shawl,” said Pool. “The point is, none of my contacts have turned up anyone useful yet. It’s hard to find anyone of any real magical talent these days.”

The King sniffed loudly. “That’s because most of them go rushing off to that damned Hawk and Fisher Memorial Academy, down in Lancre, and we never see them again. I don’t think they should be allowed to do that, depriving the country of a natural resource . . . We should do something about that place. All it does is turn out troublemakers.”

“You leave the Hero Academy alone,” the Prime Minister said sternly. “They’re protected.”

“Really?” said the King. “Who by?”

“I don’t know! That’s what’s so worrying . . . Might I remind you that there is always my brother, the sorcerer Van Fleet?”

“Yes, yes,” the King said testily. “I know, you keep telling me: he’s very proficient, a very useful fellow. Very talented. Done a lot of useful things on our behalf. But when all is said and done, you know as well as I do that he’s High Magic. The Unreal has always had its roots in Wild Magic. Last I heard, Van Fleet had been all over Castle Midnight and hadn’t been able to detect anything he could get his hands on. Let alone try to call back and place under our control. Can’t say I’m that disappointed, really. The Wild Magic was always a harsh mistress, and an unreliable servant. By all accounts, Castle Midnight could be a really scary place to live, back in the day.”

“It’ll be a scary world if we don’t make this agreement work, William,” Gregory Pool said soberly. “So much depends on Catherine . . . If this should go wrong, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

THREE

ALL ABOUT THE PRINCE

O
n a colder than usual evening in early autumn, somewhere in the Forest Kingdom, a Prince and his friends went riding in search of adventure. Even though at least one of them knew he wasn’t supposed to.

Prince Richard led the way, on his fine white horse, accompanied by his good friends Clarence Lancaster, who fancied himself a minstrel, and Peter Foster, who had never fancied himself as anything other than a soldier. Their horses weren’t white, or purebred, or even worth a second look, but they did their job just as well. Evening was sliding slowly into night, and the last of the light was going out of the day. The trees blazed bronze and brass all around them, and just the passing of three young men on horses was enough to shake the last leaves from the trees. The wide trail was already covered with a thick mulch of fallen leaves, muffling the beat of the horses’ hooves. Autumn had come early this year, as well as colder, and Prince Richard was quietly disputing with himself as to whether he might have left it just a bit late in the year to go out adventuring. Not that he’d ever admit that in front of his friends, of course. The Prince kept an ear out for wolves, who always appeared with the autumn, but there was hardly a sound anywhere. Just a few birds singing, some stubborn buzz of insects . . . In fact, the woods seemed almost unnaturally quiet.

“Are you sure we can’t take some time out for a break, for a bite to eat and a drop of something warming?” said Clarence, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. He wasn’t really built for long rides, and he’d never been noted for his patience where creature comforts were concerned.

“We stopped for a hearty tea just a few hours back,” Richard said ruthlessly. “Where, I might add, you managed to consume more smoked meat, travel biscuits, and brandy than Peter and I put together. It’s a wonder to me that horse hasn’t collapsed under you. You do know the stable master keeps the other horses in line by threatening to give them to you?”

“I am not fat! I’ve just got big bones.”

“You’ve got a big stomach and a bigger appetite,” said Peter, entirely unsympathetically, not taking his eyes off the trail ahead. “I’ve seen meat pies go running out of the kitchen when you walk in.”

“I just have a great appetite for life,” said Clarence loftily.

“Then stop complaining,” said Richard. “We’re on our way to adventure! This is what you said you wanted.”

“That was what he wanted when we were all safe back at the Castle,” said Peter. “Anyone with any real experience knows that adventure is someone else going through hell, a comfortable distance from wherever you are, sitting and reading about it.”

“We are on a mission of mercy, on our way to rescue poor downtrodden mining folk from an unnatural menace,” Prince Richard said firmly.

“On our way to an early death, more like,” said Peter. “I’m only here because someone’s got to watch your back and keep you out of trouble.”

“Thank you, Captain Grumpy,” said the Prince. “Do let us know if you spot something really depressing, so we can all have a good brood over the unfairness of life.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” said Clarence.

“History will vindicate me,” said Peter.

“I’m only here to get firsthand experience for a new song,” said Clarence. “I’m quite happy to leave the actual adventuring to those more suited to it. You two get stuck in, and I’ll hold the horses. I’m good at holding horses.” He broke off and shivered suddenly. “How can it be this cold, this early in the season? We’re only just into the fall . . . Maybe I should get my calendar overhauled.”

“It is cold,” said Peter. “More than properly cold. I’m wearing my long underwear and I can still feel the nip of autumn in some very private places.”

“Far too much information,” said Richard.

“I hate it when the seasons change, at the end of the year,” said Clarence. “Always looks to me like the whole world’s dying . . .”

“Stop being such a gloomy bugger,” said Peter. “That’s my job.”

“He’s just being minstrely,” said Richard.

“That’s not even a word,” said Peter. “You made that up.”

“Is it just me,” said Clarence slowly, “or has all the sound gone out of the woods?”

They all listened carefully. The birds had stopped their singing, the insects had disappeared, and there wasn’t even a whisper of movement in the tightly packed trees on either side of the beaten trail. The only sound left was the clear, steady progress of their mounts. It was as though the horses and their riders were the only living things left in a dying world. Richard stood up in his stirrups to look around, but the darkening shadows threw back his gaze. He slumped down again.

“Everyone keep their ears open,” Peter said steadily. “We’re a long way from anywhere halfway civilised, and heading into dangerous territory. There are still monsters in some of the darker parts of the Forest.”

“What?” Clarence said immediately. “Dangerous territory? No one said anything to me about going into dangerous territory! I thought we were just going to check out a small mining village. Are we lost again? Do you want me to check the compass?”

“We’re well on our way to Cooper’s Mill,” said Richard. “And you leave that compass alone. You can break delicate mechanisms just by breathing on them.”

“Still,” said Peter, “it does seem to me that we should have reached Cooper’s Mill by now. If we’d been going by the direct route. Like we agreed.”

“All right, so we’re taking a little detour,” said Richard. “Since we were going in the general direction anyway . . . I thought we might take the opportunity to stop off and take a look at the Darkwood.”

Peter and Clarence both reined in harshly, bringing their horses to a sudden halt, and Richard had no choice but to stop too. They all looked at one another for a long moment. Clarence’s normally flushed features had gone suddenly pale, while Peter studied the Prince with narrowed, thoughtful eyes.

“No wonder it feels so cold,” Clarence said finally.

“You didn’t say anything about going anywhere near the Darkwood,” said Peter.

“Because I knew if I did, you’d both wimp out on me!” said Richard. “It’s just a name! You can’t let it get to you like this. The Darkwood isn’t nearly as big, or as much of a threat, as it used to be. Hasn’t been for years. Don’t look at me like that! The whole area’s barely a mile in diameter these days, and there aren’t any demons left in it.”

“Some people say that,” said Peter. “Other people say otherwise, because they’ve got more sense. Just because you can’t see the demons, it doesn’t mean there aren’t any there.”

“Yes it does!” said Richard.

“There are still demons,” said Clarence, looking mournfully around. “All the songs and stories say so.”

“Not real demons,” said Richard. “Not like back in the Demon War.”

“There are still creatures that linger near the Darkwood,” said Peter, glaring about him into the darkening shadows between the trees. “Lurking in the deepest, most troubled parts of the Forest. Watching from the gloom at the side of the trail, lying in wait for some poor young fools to come wandering by.”

“You’re getting as bad as Clarence,” said Richard. “Those are just stories! It’s been a hundred years now since my illustrious ancestor stamped out all the monsters during the Demon War! I just thought, since we were going to pass by the Darkwood anyway, we might as well stop and take a look. Just to see what it’s really like. You said you wanted some decent new material for a song, Clarence. We could be the first men to step inside the Darkwood since . . .”

“We?” said Clarence immediately. “What’s all this
we
shit? I’m not going anywhere near it!”

“Neither am I, and neither are you, your highness,” Peter said firmly. “Riding out for a little adventure is one thing; risking your soul and your sanity, quite another.”

Richard just laughed at both of them, and Peter and Clarence knew the situation was hopeless. You only had to hear that bright and carefree laughter to know that the Prince had made up his mind and would do what he intended to do, and that he was determined to get his friends into trouble too, for their own good. It was, admittedly, one of the reasons why they stuck with him. Life with Prince Richard might be dangerous, but it was never dull.

Prince Richard of the Forest Kingdom was tall, dark, dashing, and far too handsome for his own good. Now in his mid-twenties, he was brave and charming and loudly cheerful, and would have been unbearable if he hadn’t known all that and refused to take himself seriously. He didn’t value any of his better qualities because he didn’t feel he’d earned them. Which was why he was always so ready to rush off and do something unwise, in search of derring-do.

He’d done some fighting in the border skirmishes, but he hadn’t found anything heroic there. Just killing. He did his duty, riding alongside his father’s soldiers to drive out the invading Redhart forces, but he took no pleasure in it. He was still looking for the honour and glory promised him by the legends he’d grown up with, of his legendary ancestor, his great-granduncle, Prince Rupert. Who rode on dragons and bore the Rainbow Sword, who saved the Forest Land and all its people from utter destruction by fighting off a whole army of demons, and defeating their leader, the dreaded Demon Prince, Lord of the Darkwood. So whenever chances of action or adventure presented themselves, you could always rely on Richard to be out at the front, smiling and laughing. And nearly always the first to be dragged away by his friends when it all went horribly wrong.

Clarence Lancaster was a man of medium height and far more than medium weight, with an endless appetite for all the good things life had to offer. He and Richard had been close friends since childhood school days, when they were universally judged a bad influence on everyone else. He was determined to be a minstrel and have his songs admired and venerated across the world. He sought out heroic situations so he could observe them, from a safe distance, and then write about them in an authentic manner. Clarence was a sheltered, middle-class merchant’s son, with an assured comfortable future, and he couldn’t wait to throw it all away, in the name of Romance and Adventure.