Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

Chapter 1
    THE RAINBOW RUN
    Prince Rupert rode his unicorn into the Tanglewood, peering balefully through the drizzling rain as he searched halfheartedly for the flea hiding somewhere under his breastplate. Despite the chill rain he was sweating heavily under the weight of his armour, and his spirits had sunk so low as to be almost out of sight. 'Go forth and slay a dragon, my son,' King John had said, and all the courtiers cheered. They could afford to. They didn't have to go out and face the dragon. Or ride through the Tanglewood in full armour in the rainy season. Rupert gave up on the flea and scrabbled awkwardjy at his steel helmet, but to no avail; water continued to trickle down his neck.
    Towering, closely packed trees bordered the narrow trail, blending into a verdant gloom that mirrored his mood. Thick fleshy vines clung to every tree trunk, and fell in matted streamers from the branches. A heavy, sullen silence hung over the Tanglewood. No animals moved in the thick undergrowth, and no
    birds sang. The only sounds were the constant rustle of the rain as it dripped from the lowering branches of the water-logged trees and the muffled thudding of the unicorn's hooves. Thick mud and fallen leaves made the twisting, centuries-old trail more than usually treacherous, and the unicorn moved ever more slowly, slipping and sliding as he carried Prince Rupert deeper into the Tanglewood.
    Rupert glowered about him, and sighed deeply. All his life he'd thrilled to the glorious exploits of his ancestors, told in solemn voices during the long, dark winter evenings. He remembered as a child sitting wide-eyed and open-mouthed by the fire in the Great Hall, listening with delicious horror to tales of ogres and harpies, magic swords and rings of power. Steeped in the legends of his family, Rupert had vowed from an early age that one day he too would be a hero, like Great-Uncle Sebastian, who traded three years of his life for the three wishes that would free the Princess Elaine from the Tower With No Doors. Or like Grandfather Eduard, who alone had dared confront the terrible Night Witch, who maintained her remarkable beauty by bathing in the blood of young girls.
    Now, finally, he had the chance to be a hero, and a right dog's breakfast he was making of it. Basically, Rupert blamed the minstrels. They were so busy singing about heroes vanquishing a dozen foes with one sweep of the sword because their hearts were pure that they never got round to the important issues, like how to keep rain out of your armour, or avoid strange fruits that gave you the runs, or the best way to dig latrines. There was a lot to being a hero that the minstrels never mentioned. Rupert was busily working himself into a real foul temper when the unicorn lurched under him.
    'Steady!' yelled the Prince.
    The unicorn sniffed haughtily.
    'It's all right for you up there, taking it easy; I'm the one who has to do all the work. That armour you're wearing weighs a ton. My back's killing me.'
    'I've been in the saddle for three weeks,' Rupert pointed out unsympathetically. 'It's not my back that's bothering me.'
    The unicorn sniggered, and then came to a sudden halt, almost spilling the Prince from his saddle. Rupert grabbed at the long, curlicued horn to keep his balance.
    'Why have we stopped? Trail getting too muddy, perhaps? Afraid your hooves will get dirty?'
    'If you're going to be a laugh a minute you can get off and walk,' snarled the unicorn. 'In case you hadn't noticed, there's a massive spider's web blocking the trail.'
    Rupert sighed, heavily. 'I suppose you want me to check it out?'
    'If you would, please.'
    The unicorn shuffled his feet, and the Prince felt briefly seasick. 'You know how I feel about spiders . . .'
    Rupert cursed resignedly, and swung awkwardly down from the saddle, his armour protesting loudly with every movement. He sank a good three inches into the trail's mud, and swayed unsteadily for a long moment before finding his balance. He forced open his helmet's visor and studied the huge web uneasily.
    Thick milky strands choked the narrow path, each sticky thread studded with the sparkling jewels of trapped raindrops. Rupert frowned; what kind of spider spins a web almost ten feet high. He trudged
    cautiously forward, drew his sword, and prodded one of the strands. The blade stuck tight, and he had to use both hands to pull the sword free.
    'Good start,' said the unicorn.
    Rupert ignored the animal and stared thoughtfully at the