Once In a Blue Moon (69 page)

“I don’t want your soul,” said the Stone. “I want only to help you defend the Land. I have slept here for centuries, contained and imprisoned within this Stone. All you have to do is bring me forth, and I will make you everything you need to be. For as long as you need to be.”

“I don’t trust you,” said King Rufus. “I know better than to trust you. I know how deals like this work out. But I have no choice. How do I bring you out of the Stone?”

“Command me to come forth,” whispered the voice. “By the authority vested in you as King of this Land.”

“As King of the Forest Land, I order you to come forth from this Stone,” said Rufus. “And God save us all.”

A figure stepped lightly out of the Standing Stone, as if from a shadow. A tall and slender, very human figure. Ten feet tall and more, made from green leaves and branches and vines. It had an emerald green, entirely human face, and it smiled easily on the King as it towered over him.

“You see, Rufus? I am not so terrible, am I?”

“Who are you?” said the King. He could hardly get the words out because his heart was pounding so hard in his chest. “What are you?”

“I am the Green Man. The great green heart of the Forest, from long before Castles and cities and the gathering places of Man. I have returned, to make this Land strong again. I bring gifts—and here is the first of them.”

King Rufus screamed horribly, as a terrible, unrelenting force roared through him. His old bones broke and shattered and repaired themselves, while his muscles tore themselves apart and then put themselves back together again. His heart stopped and started, and his blood boiled in his veins. He dropped to his knees, clutching at his head with both hands. And then it stopped. Rufus groaned out loud, the pitiful sound trailing away into a pained whimper.

“There, there,” said the Green Man. “I know it hurt, but you did ask for so very much. All your remaining years, concentrated into the short time this war will last. How do you feel, Rufus?”

“Young,” said the King. “I feel young . . .”

And he did. He rose shakily to his feet and looked unbelievingly at the hands he held up in front of his face. No wrinkles, no liver spots, and they didn’t shake at all. More important, his head was clear again. It was like waking from some awful fever, where he’d been weak and confused all the time, and seeing the world clearly again. He felt like himself again. He looked up at the Green Man, who was smiling so sweetly down at him.

“How long? How long have I got, like this?”

“For as long as you need, until the war is over,” said the Green Man. “You’ll burn through these hoarded years quickly, King Rufus. Don’t waste them.”

“I know what kind of deal I’ve made,” said the King. “I don’t need to ask about the price. It is the duty of a King to do what’s necessary. To sacrifice himself, for the Land.”

•   •   •

T
he Sombre Warrior went walking through the Castle, still wearing his ceremonial armour and his featureless steel helmet. He could have gone back to his room and changed into his formal clothes. Put on his porcelain mask. But his current look seemed more suitable, with a war looming. He was heading for Laurence Garner’s travelling room, to pay his respects and offer his services to the head of Castle security. And along the way he met the Seneschal, coming in the other direction. The Seneschal walked right up to the Warrior and planted himself in the way of the much larger man. He looked half out of his mind with worry, so the Warrior stopped and regarded him patiently.

“Have you seen the King?” the Seneschal demanded immediately, his voice strained and desperate. “He’s vanished from his private rooms, and no one can find him anywhere! I had guards at his door, and they swear they never saw him leave . . . God knows what he’ll get up to on his own! If he gets hurt, or worse, on the eve of war . . . It would be a terrible blow to the Forest Land!”

“How did he get out of his room if there were guards at his door?” said the Sombre Warrior. “Do you suspect . . . kidnap? Redhart agents, inside the Castle? Magic, perhaps?”

“Oh, wonderful!” said the Seneschal. “Give me something else to worry about! But no; no, this whole Castle is lousy with secret doors and hidden panels, and tunnels inside the walls . . . I know most of them, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the King kept a few to himself.” He stopped, and looked defiantly at the Warrior. “You don’t know. You never knew him in his prime. He was a great King, a warrior King! Everyone says so! The people love him. They still remember! If anything should happen to him . . .”

“Have you got all your people out looking for him?” said the Sombre Warrior. “If so, then you’ve done everything you can. It’s a big Castle. He’s bound to turn up somewhere. I’m on my way to talk with the head of security. I’ll make sure his people are doing all they can.”

The Seneschal just stood there and shook his head, refusing to be comforted. He looked hard at the Sombre Warrior, narrowing his eyes as though to peer through the steel helm to what lay beneath. “So, you’re on our side now. And we’re all supposed to just accept that?”

“I serve the Princess Catherine,” the Sombre Warrior said calmly. “Her father has betrayed her, but I will not.”

“Do you care for her?” the Seneschal said bluntly.

“I have sworn to stand between her and all danger,” said the Warrior.

“That’s not what I asked,” said the Seneschal.

“I will protect the Princess from everything that might endanger her,” said the Sombre Warrior. “Including myself.”

The Seneschal nodded slowly. He seemed grateful to have something else to think about, apart from the missing King. “You were William’s man. Did he speak to you of any . . . agents he might have, inside the Castle?”

“He only ever told me what he thought I needed to know,” the Warrior said carefully. “But he did give me one name. One of your own, who changed his allegiance to serve William. For reasons of his own. You know him. The Prince’s friend. The minstrel, Clarence.”

The Seneschal gaped at him for a moment. “
Clarence?
Are you sure? No, no, of course you’re sure, or you wouldn’t have said . . . Oh dear God, this is going to be a mess. How could he? The Prince and he were always so close . . . Leave it with me, sir Warrior. I’ll see Clarence is picked up and questioned . . . diplomatically. As though I didn’t have enough to worry about . . .”

He brushed past the Sombre Warrior, and hurried off down the corridor.

Before the Warrior could set off again, someone else came striding determinedly towards him. The Princess Catherine, looking pale but determined, her gaze set firmly on the Sombre Warrior. He stood still and let her come to him. She stopped before him and looked at him thoughtfully. He nodded his steel helmet to her.

“Why?” said Catherine. “You gave up your home, your station, everything you had in Redhart for me. Why?”

“Because I swore to protect you from all dangers,” said the Sombre Warrior.

“You swore many things, to many people. Including my father. Tell me the truth, sir Warrior. Why me?”

“Because you matter,” said the Warrior.

Catherine nodded slowly, considering his answer. “Take off your helmet, sir Warrior. Show me your face. Show me the truth.”

The Sombre Warrior slowly raised both his hands to his steel helmet and lifted it off, tucking it carefully under one arm. Catherine’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t hold back a gasp, as she took in his unmarked, undamaged face. He didn’t smile. It wasn’t the right moment for that. But he did meet her gaze squarely.

“So,” she said finally. “It was all just a story. A useful legend.”

“Yes,” said the Sombre Warrior.

She studied his features carefully. “I don’t know you.”

“No one does,” said the Warrior. “That’s the point. I’m not anyone anymore. No name, no past, no country to call my own. I’m the Sombre Warrior. A useful myth to send into battle, to inspire others to fight harder. Just a mask, that everyone could see themselves in. But I am your man, now, Princess. And your enemies are my enemies.”

“I still want to know why!” said Catherine.

“I chose you,” said the Warrior. “I have served so many masters, usually not by choice, but none of them were worthy of me. But I saw you, in the carriage, when we were attacked. You could have run, or screamed, or begged for mercy. But you didn’t. You stood your ground and fought back, killing the man who would have killed you. So I chose you, Catherine. I will serve you all my days, because you are someone who matters. My life is yours, my death is yours. Because you are worthy. I don’t matter. I never did, not really. But I can serve someone who does!”

“How can you say you don’t matter?” said Catherine fiercely. “After all the things you’ve done!”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” said the Sombre Warrior.

Catherine held herself still, hearing the things he didn’t say. She could feel the passion in him—not love, or lust, but simple sincerity. This was a side of the Sombre Warrior she’d never seen before, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Then you are mine,” she said. “Put your helmet back on, sir Warrior.”

He carefully replaced his steel helmet and bowed to her. “We all have to serve someone, Princess. The best we can hope for is to choose wisely. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to speak with the head of castle security.”

“Of course, sir Warrior,” said Catherine. “And . . . thank you.”

He bowed again, and then walked on. Catherine watched him go. And wondered . . . what she would do with him.

•   •   •

L
aurence Garner, head of Castle security, was sitting at his desk, sipping a glass of the really good wine he usually reserved for special guests, because he was in a mood. He looked tiredly at the massive pile of paperwork before him, which he fully intended to do something about, any time now. And then the door before him slammed open, and in strode the Sombre Warrior. Garner put his glass down carefully and stared at the huge figure standing before him.

“How the hell did you find me? My room is always on the move, darting back and forth about the Castle, just so dramatic entrances like this can’t happen!”

“It’s the helmet,” said the Sombre Warrior. “It has all sorts of useful magics built in. How else do you think I see out of it?”

Garner scowled at him. “What else can it do?”

“Oh, I’m just full of surprises,” said the Warrior.

“So I’ve heard, from the Court,” said Garner. He made a point of lounging back in his chair, just to show how unimpressed he was. He didn’t offer the Sombre Warrior a chair, and the Warrior didn’t ask for one. Garner sighed inwardly. “Peregrine de Woodville has already been here, darting agitatedly round my office like his underwear was on fire, to tell me we are now at war. I love the
we
; I wasn’t consulted. He also informed me that you were his special agent in Redhart, all these years. And the Seneschal contacted me just now, to tell me you’ve named the Prince’s special chum, Clarence Lancaster, as a traitor. Thanks a whole bunch for that! That’s going to open up a whole world of trouble, once Prince Richard finds out. And you’re here . . . to offer me your services.”

“You’re very well informed,” said the Sombre Warrior.

“I am head of Castle security! I know everything!” Garner smiled briefly. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s part of the job description. Actually, I already knew about Clarence. He wasn’t nearly as careful as he should have been when he visited you. I left him alone because he is a close personal friend of the Prince, and one must tread lightly in such matters, and because he wasn’t exactly a danger . . . But now we’re at war, that will have to change. It would seem he’s managed to disappear for the moment, but my men will find him soon enough. The Castle’s locked down; there’s no way he can get out. But with so much of the old place lying empty, there’s a lot of unoccupied rooms to search. We’ll find him; and then we’ll find out what he knows.” Garner looked thoughtfully at the Sombre Warrior. “Are you here to give me more names, of more Redhart agents, to make my life even more difficult?”

“I don’t know any more names,” said the Warrior. “William always did believe in keeping his cards close to his chest. He never told me anything until he thought I needed to know it. I didn’t even know about Lady Gertrude until it was almost too late.”

“Then what use are you to me?” Garner said bluntly.

“I have served many masters,” said the Sombre Warrior. “From the Forest to Redhart and back again. As a result, no one can ever really trust me. So you can use me to do all those things that need doing, that your regular people might balk at. I’ll kill anyone. I don’t care. I never have. And during a war there will be many dirty deeds that must be done. That those in power need never know about.”

“And your price, for these services, sir Warrior?”

“Money. Lots of it. And . . . Catherine must never know.”

“Agreed,” said Garner. “I’m running my people ragged anyway, setting up proper defences for the Castle. I’ve been given access to the Armoury, so I have all the weapons I could hope for, but I don’t have nearly enough people.” He smiled briefly. “Do you know who I’ve got running the Castle defences? Mercy Forester—Sir Kay, that was. And I think it’s fair to say none of us saw that one coming . . . She just turned up here and volunteered her services, and she’s been a godsend. Organised the guards like she was born to it. And given her lineage, she probably was . . . Though you won’t hear me saying that in front of Prince Richard. So, sir Warrior, time to go to work. This helmet of yours—think it could find Clarence Lancaster for me?”

“Almost certainly,” said the Sombre Warrior.

“Good,” said Garner. “Track him down, arrest him, don’t bring him back alive.”

There was a knock at the door.

•   •   •

P
eter Foster, who had been a soldier, and then Prince Richard’s friend, and most recently his bodyguard, walked down a corridor that no one used, to a room that no one lived in, and knocked on a door that no one knew about. He didn’t look around; he’d have known if he was being followed. The door opened quickly, and Clarence looked out. The minstrel’s face was pale and strained, slick with sweat. His eyes were wide and wild. Like an animal brought to ground. He grabbed Peter by the arm and hauled him inside, and then quickly shut and locked the door behind him.