Bronze Magic (Book 1) (26 page)

Within moments, his view was filled with the faces of Waterstone and
Autumn Leaves bending over him in concern. Tarkyn put up a restraining
hand. “Don’t.” he said peremptorily. “Just let me get up in my own time.
I’m all right.”
The two woodfolk backed off and waited. Tarkyn sat up and moved
a few yards so that his back rested against a tree. As soon as he was able
to focus his mind, Tarkyn said, in a voice that brooked no argument,
“Sit down. I have an image to show you and you need to be seated to
see it.”
He transmitted the eagle’s vision to them. Then it was his turn to wait.
Waterstone and Autumn Leaves stayed out of focus for quite some time.
Finally, the prince lost patience. “I presume you are informing the others
and making plans?” He waited until this brought Waterstone’s eyes back
into focus. “It may not have occurred to you but I would like to be
included in those plans.” It was not a request.
Unmistakably, he saw Waterstone’s expression move from impatience
through resigned acceptance to calculation.
“Yes,” responded Tarkyn, with a wry smile. “I do not have to be a
millstone around your neck. I can assist you. I will show you your choices.
You tell me what you want to use and how.” He closed his eyes and sent
images of a power ray, fireball, magical net, levitation and shield.
“I will have to relay this,” said Waterstone apologetically. “Try to focus
on my thoughts and you may be able to see some of our discussion. I will
get back to you as soon as I can.”
The sorcerer saw woodfolk posted in trees all along the river. There was
a particular concentration of them in trees around a ford about half a mile
south of where they were seated. Even the children were up in the trees.
Two of them were under the close supervision of Summer Rain, behind
the line of fire. Sparrow and another child were standing in the branches,
bows at the ready. Tarkyn could not pick up any of the discussion but
he could pick up Sparrow’s and the other child’s carefully controlled fear.
He sent them a feeling of reassurance and an image of himself and the
other woodfolk stationed all around the children looking calm and ready.
He was rewarded with the sight of them squaring their shoulders and
smiling, albeit a little tightly.
Waterstone re-focussed. “We need to get down to the river near the
ford. As soon as we can, we must get up into the trees for safety. If by
any chance we are caught out before we reach the river, you must get
yourself up into a tree before you do anything else. Once you are safely
out of their reach, you can attack. Not before. Your safety is paramount.
I’ll explain the rest as we go.”
Once Autumn Leaves had retrieved Tarkyn’s staff, the prince and the
two woodfolk walked down towards the river as quickly as Tarkyn was
able.
“How high can you levitate yourself?” asked Waterstone.
“I don’t know. I usually lift myself no more than ten feet or so, but I
can’t see why there would be limit.”
“If you could rise high enough to see where the wolves were coming
from, we would know where to concentrate our attack. There aren’t very
many of us and we have to maximise what we have.”
If Tarkyn was disappointed with the passive role they had given him,
he didn’t let it show. He merely nodded and focussed on moving as
quickly as he could, given his stiffness.
“Why don’t you just levitate yourself along sideways?” asked Autumn
Leaves suddenly. As the other two stopped and looked at him, the
woodman shrugged and said with his usual candour, “Well, you are
holding us up. Your magical strength won’t have to fight against strained
muscles like your physical strength has to.”
The sorcerer smiled, “Good idea. I should have thought of it myself
but I’m not used to using magic for everyday activities.” He muttered,
“
Maya Reeza Mureva
” and rose gently into the air. From that point on,
the sorcerer floated himself along above the ground while the woodfolk
jogged to keep up with him. When they neared the river, Waterstone
checked in with the woodfolk in the trees.
“No sign of them yet,” reported the woodman. “Do you want to lift
yourself up and see if you can find them? Autumn Leaves and I will climb
up into the trees while we’re waiting. We don’t want to get caught on the
ground either”
With a quiet, “
Maya Reeza
”, the sorcerer rose up through the trees
until he could see across the canopy of the forest. He had never before
levitated so high and he could feel the strain on his untrained powers. He
centred himself and then looked down into the trees on the far side of
the river. He saw a small pack of wolves headed for the ford but not the
large number he had noted previously. He scanned the trees and finally
caught sight of another larger group heading north along the river. As
he watched them, the front guard jumped straight into the fast running
water and swam strongly across. The lead wolf shook himself and set off
immediately into woods, heading in a direction that would cut in behind
the woodfolk’s position.
The sorcerer brought himself back down onto the firm branch of a
large horse chestnut tree, and then relayed the image of what he had seen
to Waterstone. Tarkyn picked up a quickly suppressed flash of panic and
an image of woodfolk in trees, no arrows left and wolves surrounding
them on every side. Tarkyn sent back a wave of reassurance, with an
image of himself alternately blasting wolves and retrieving arrows and
sending them back up to the woodfolk. A faint ripple of amusement
reached him before he was left alone with his own thoughts while the
woodfolk planned their strategy.
Not long after this, Tarkyn heard the first howls as woodfolk arrows
struck home. He felt restless not knowing where everyone was in relation
to him and not being part of the attack. With nothing better to do, he
rose above the trees again to track the wolves’ progress. Eight more wolves
had crossed the river and were circling around through the trees towards
the woodfolk. The sorcerer could feel their snarling hatred as they closed
in. Tarkyn descended quickly into the cover of his own tree and found
himself a secure position where he could sit straddled across a bough and
lean against the trunk of the great horse chestnut before transmitting the
image. Twenty long minutes passed. Nothing further happened. It felt
like hours of waiting.

They’re waiting for us to drop our guard and come down out of the trees,
thought Tarkyn,
I hope the woodfolk realise that and are patient.
He
thought about sending a message to wait, as he had to Autumn Leaves,
but decided that it was his own need to be doing something rather than
any real need to warn the skilled woodfolk that would be driving him to
send the message.

Finally, he saw the wolves emerge from the cover of the trees. Two of
them passed directly beneath him but even though he was clearly visible
and they must have smelt his scent, none of the wolves stopped to try to
attack him. All their attention was focussed on reaching the woodfolk.
As he watched, they seem to cluster around particular trees. Arrows sped
through the air, dropping one wolf after another. But then the last group
of three ran at a nearby oak in sequence, each using the one in front as a
ladder to get further up its trunk. Once the leading wolf gained the lower
branch, it bounded up from one branch to the next at the beleaguered
Waterstone.

Tarkyn could feel the savagery directed against the woodman and
received a strong image of Waterstone, hard-pressed and climbing further
up into the tree. The sorcerer aimed carefully, spoke “
Fierspa!
” firmly and
sent forth a blast of power at the leading wolf before it could climb up
out of sight. The huge wolf howled and, losing its footing, crashed to the
ground. Tarkyn blasted it once more before it had time to recover. He
sent one more streak of power at the second wolf but by then, Waterstone
had had time to regroup higher in the tree and his arrows struck the
remaining wolves with fast, deadly accuracy.

Suddenly it was over. Tarkyn rose once more above the trees to check
for any strays but there was no sign of the running grey shapes. He relayed
this information to Waterstone and slowly the woodfolk descended from
the trees and congregated next to the river.

As the sorcerer landed gently on the ground to join them, a ball of
energy threw itself around his waist. He staggered slightly under the
impact and looked down to find Sparrow’s upturned face, beaming up
at him.

“Tarkyn,” She beamed at him. “You saved my dad with that fantastic
beam of light and you told us the wolves were coming and then told us
about the sneaky ones. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

The young prince grinned back down at her and, ignoring the protest
of his ribs, swung her up into his arms and gave her a big hug. “You’re
welcome, young Sparrow. I think everyone did a great job of looking
after one another, don’t you? And do you know, I think if I hadn’t been
here, your dad would have just climbed up out of the way faster.” He
swung her onto one hip so he could see the other woodfolk and asked,
“Is everyone here and all right?”

“Thanks to your warning, we were never in any danger,” rumbled
Thunder Storm. “Things would have been a lot different if we’d been
caught out of the trees. We needed more preparation time than the
lookouts would have given us to meet such a large number of wolves.”

Tarkyn spotted the other child who had been in the tree with Sparrow.
The young boy was peeking out from behind his father, Rustling Leaves,
watching the prince. Tarkyn swung Sparrow back down and crouched
next to her.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asked her, nodding
at the boy.
“This is Breaking Twigs. We are both ten years old and this was our
first hunt,” said Sparrow proudly. “Come on. Come and say hello,” she
urged the boy.
Breaking Twigs disengaged himself from his father and walked forward
uncertainly. “Good afternoon, Your Highness,” whispered the little boy,
clearly over-awed by meeting the prince.
“I am pleased to meet you, Breaking Twigs. You and Sparrow have
been very brave fighting those fierce wolves. I was too far away from you
to see. Did you hit any of them?”
Sparrow and Breaking Twigs looked at each other then back at the
prince before the little boy answered with resolute honesty, “I think one
of us might have hit one in the rump but they didn’t come to our tree. So
we didn’t get a close shot.”
Tarkyn smiled. “That was a very good effort for your first hunt. I
am glad the wolves didn’t come any closer to you. They were fearsome,
weren’t they?”
Both children nodded solemnly. The prince stood up and ruffled their
hair. “Well done, you two. Now, would you happen to know where there
might be some wine and food? I think lunchtime came and went while
we were up in those trees.”
A short time later, the woodfolk were seated around a firesite in a
nearby clearing, eating a selection of fruits, nuts, cheeses and berries. The
conversation was revolving around the disposal of the wolves’ bodies.
“Fourteen wolves. That is going to take a lot of cleaning,” said Creaking
Bough, as she reached for another handful of nuts. “We won’t be able to
use that much fresh meat. We’ll have to dry most of it. There’ll be plenty
of warm furs for cloaks and blankets.”
“I suppose there are only thirteen good furs?” asked the sorcerer
apologetically.
Thunder Storm smiled understandingly. “You did better this time, my
lord. There is only a small singed area where you struck the wolf. The rest
of the hide is quite retrievable this time.”
Waterstone looked from one to the other and smiled to himself as he
correctly surmised the previous conversation. Tarkyn caught his eye and
looked away quickly with a slight smile before Thunder Storm noticed.
“And how are you after your exertions?” enquired Summer Rain. “Not
resting as instructed, I notice.”
The prince wondered if she was attempting a joke but one look at
her serious face assured him that she wasn’t. “There are times,” he said
carefully, “when rest and recovery must take second place.”
The healer frowned at him. “First the trees drying out. Now the wolves,
my lord. I wonder what your next excuse will be?”
Much to Tarkyn’s relief, Thunder Storm butted in and said firmly,
“Summer Rain. If it means a few extra days before we depart to seek your
brother, then you must be patient. Prince Tarkyn’s actions today saved
many of us from injury or even death. Do not demean his contribution
by calling it an excuse.”
Summer Rain coloured slightly. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness. I
am merely concerned for your welfare.”
Tarkyn smiled at her placatingly. “In answer to your original question,
I am feeling stronger today than yesterday despite today’s exertions
which, after all, were not so great.” He threw a glance at Waterstone,
“Nothing like so hard as holding up tree branches for hours on end.”
The prince looked around the group of woodfolk. “Since the topic
has arisen, have you decided who will be travelling with me to find
Falling Rain?”
There was a short unfocused pause that Tarkyn endured with patience.
Finally, Waterstone spoke for them, “All of us who are with you now will
travel with you. The others will continue with the harvesting.”
A wave of pleasure and gratitude spread out from the prince over the
group.
“Tarkyn,” said Waterstone with a slight shake of his head. “You are
doing it again.”
After a slight hesitation, Tarkyn realised what he meant and smiled.
“It’s just as well I reacted well to the news then, isn’t it?” After a moment’s
thought, he frowned, “What about the children? Will they be all right to
travel so far?”
Rustling Leaves answered him “Most woodfolk are itinerant, your
Highness. We never stay long in one place anyway. The children are used
to travelling although perhaps not so far at any one time. They will learn
much on the way. They will be just as safe travelling as they would be
staying in one place within the forest.”
Tarkyn looked around them. “So when do we leave?”
A lovely young woodwoman with soft eyes and shoulder length
shining hair answered him in a soft rhythmic voice. “My Lord, the
arrival of the wolves has set us back a little. We must attend to the
wolf carcasses before we leave. It will take us several days to prepare
and cure the meat and hides. By then we will be ready to leave and
you may be recovered, if nothing else happens to distract you. I am
Lapping Water.”
With some amusement, Waterstone noted an arrested expression in
Tarkyn’s eyes as he registered Lapping Water for the first time. However,
the prince’s court training clicked in and he didn’t miss a beat as he
answered, “Thank you, Lapping Water. I do not believe I have met you
before and am pleased to do so now.” To cover his confusion, Tarkyn
glanced around the group and said, “We have fought together and will
be travelling together and yet I still have not been introduced to everyone
here. This seems most remiss. Could those of you who have not yet
introduced themselves, please do so now?”
Once the seven remaining adult woodfolk had introduced themselves,
the prince asked, “And your children, Thunder Storm?”
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” answered Creaking Bough for
him. “These are our sons Trickling Stream and Rain on Water.” Trickling
Stream was a scruffy, bouncy five year old, with a couple of front teeth
missing who bounded forward to meet Tarkyn without a second thought,
while Rain on Water was much neater, more reserved and clearly
intimidated by talking to the prince. Tarkyn made a mental note to get
to know him better away from an audience.
Once introductions had been completed, the prince addressed the
whole group. “I would like to thank all of you who are here for having
chosen to stand by me. I did not ask to be introduced only for form’s
sake. I need to know your names if we are in situations such as we were
today so that I can call out to you if I need to. All of you need to learn
to understand my way of mind talking. I cannot use words, only images,
gestures and feeling. As Autumn Leaves can attest, this can lead to
some misunderstandings. I will leave him to explain that to you at some
other time.”
Tarkyn took a sip from his goblet before continuing. “I don’t know
how you do things here, but where I come from, we discuss a battle of
any sort afterwards to ensure we learn from it to improve the next time.
Do you do this?”
A few embarrassed glances between woodfolk answered his question.
“You have done it already and not included me?” Tarkyn blinked in
disbelief. A wave of outrage burst forth from him and rocked the entire
group backwards. As leaves began to dance on the trees, the woodfolk
glanced at each other with stricken faces. “So. You use my power and
knowledge and then close ranks against me as soon as the danger
has passed.”
Their new liege lord grasped his staff and struggled to his feet. Gusts
of wind picked up leaves and threw them across the clearing as he spoke,
his voice intense with anger. “Perhaps you are unaware of the honour I
bestowed on you by letting you choose which of my powers to use. By
rights, I should have led that attack on the wolves. Instead, I allowed you
to make the decisions. But at the very least, I expected to be treated as
a valued contributor. You mistake the case completely if you think I am
some tool to use, as and when it suits you.”
Giving a significant glance at the gathering storm, Autumn Leaves
said bravely, “Sire, on the feast night, you said that only when you had
made your expectations known, would you demand our compliance
– and yet now you are angry even though you have not stated your
expectations.”
The prince glared down at him. “No, I have not yet stated them. And
I am not angry that you remain seated while I stand even though you,
Autumn Leaves, know that is not what I am used to. But I am angry
that the common courtesy you extend to each other does not also extend
to me. Even without court training, I cannot imagine that any of you
thought that you were honouring me by excluding me.”
Small trees were bending in the rising wind. Dust and leaves gusted
around the firesite and someone’s cup skittered away into the bushes. But
no one moved. They watched transfixed, as the sorcerer stood glowering
at them, his long hair whipping around his face.
Thunder Storm found his voice enough to say, “We thanked you for
what you did.”
“As a general would thank a foot soldier,” snapped the prince.
A particularly strong gust of wind sent sparks spiralling into the air. A
glowing branch rolled off the fire. With a distracted flick of his wrist, Tarkyn
murmured “
Liefka,
” and glided the burning branch back onto the coals.
Then Waterstone stood up. He looked steadily at the prince and gave
a self-conscious bow. The gesture was so uncharacteristic of him that it
brought Tarkyn up short. When Waterstone straightened, he said quietly,
“Tarkyn. Your Highness. Please listen to me now, as I did not listen to
you when I was angry.”
He waited while Tarkyn absorbed his words and actions. When
the prince had focused his unnerving gaze solely on Waterstone, the
woodman continued, “You are right, Tarkyn. We have taken what you
offered and continued to treat you as an outsider. On behalf of everyone
here, I apologise for our behaviour and I particularly apologise for mine.
Knowing you better, I believe I have less excuse than they do.”
The wind dropped a little although the air was still not calm.
Encouraged, Waterstone continued, “As you are aware, until recently,
we regarded you as dangerous and a liability.” A wave of apprehension
rippled around the group in response to this, but the wind did not pick
up again. “Over the last few days though, some of us have come to realise
that you could actually be an asset to us.”
Tarkyn crossed his arms. “I am no more gratified to be considered an
asset than I was concerned at being considered a liability. Every one of us
is an asset or a liability at different times in our lives. I don’t see how this
justifies your behaviour.”
Waterstone frowned. “It doesn’t. I was trying to explain that it is only
recently that there has been a shift in our attitude towards you. But we
are still nowhere near thinking of you as one of us.”
“I am not one of you. You have made that patently obvious,” said
Tarkyn coldly. “I am your liege lord. Clearly, despite your words this
morning, you prefer to keep me at a distance. So be it. But it will be
reciprocal. I will insist on being accorded the signs of respect that are my
due. You will not take me for granted again.”
Autumn Leaves lumbered back into the conversation, “Sire, we made
a mistake, an oversight. Please don’t force us to follow all that protocol of
yours because of one mistake. The problem is your mind talking disability.
We have to make a conscious effort to include you. Your inability to pick
up words makes it very difficult... even if you do have other strengths.”
“Don’t patronise me.” Tarkyn said sharply. He waved his hand
dismissively, and began to pace. He realised he was hurt, as much as
angry. He had let down his guard and risked a closeness that did not
come easily to him, only to have it thrown back at him. As he paced, he
struggled to overcome his desire to avenge himself.
Finally he turned and faced them all. His voice was low and controlled,
his anger tightly in check. A swirl of leaves behind him was the only
remaining evidence of his displeasure. “I will give you two choices:
either you will include me in all discussions relevant to me that you have
amongst yourselves, no matter how hard that is or I will simply assume
total control and expect you to behave towards me in accordance with
court protocols. If you continue to close me out, then I shall act strictly
as a prince of the realm and will treat all of you as no more than my
subjects. Then we shall all be clear about where we stand, won’t we?”
The prince watched them exchanging glances, staying strictly in focus,
not daring to mind talk.
“Waterstone, Autumn Leaves, you may share with the others the
protocols I mentioned this morning, but no other part of the conversation.
Be aware that there are other expectations that I have not yet mentioned.
I will give you an hour to discuss it among yourselves and give me your
decision.” So saying, the prince turned on his heel and walked off down
to the river.
t seemed like years since Tarkyn had last been here, but it was only
this morning. The river bank was not a pleasant place at the moment.
It was littered with wolf carcasses and blowflies were beginning to
gather. However Tarkyn was not about to make a fool of himself by
walking back up the hill to go off in another direction. As the minutes
ticked by, the prince’s heart sank. He had thought the woodfolk would
find the choice easy. He could not imagine that they would want to be
ordered around by him all the time. Tarkyn did not want to be isolated
from all of them either, but equally he would not put up with being
marginalised. As time passed and he calmed down, the young man
wondered if he had just let his feelings force him into a confrontation
that could have been avoided, just as his father had done before him. He
wandered down to the water’s edge and squatted down, looking into the
depths of the river.
“Oh stars above! I’m a bloody idiot. Now what have I done?” Tarkyn
said quietly to himself. “All I had to do was point out what was wrong
and work it out with them. Now I’ve upset everyone again and they will,
quite rightly, feel more resentful of me than ever.” The prince moodily
threw pebbles into the water. “Maybe my first instinct was right. Maybe
I should just go away from these people and leave them in peace. There
is plenty of forest to live in. And maybe I can find a way for the forest to
release me, once the hunt has died down, and I can take my chances on
the open road again.”