Bronze Magic (Book 1) (32 page)

“Quite large, but I think we can manage it.” Stormaway’s tone was
noticeably more cordial towards the woodman.
Oh save me!
thought the prince,
My neglected education has provided
them with a common cause. Oh well, at least some good has come out of it,
I suppose.
“Come on then, Sire,” said the wizard as he positioned himself in front
of the area to be excavated. “Stand next to me, about four feet to my
right and let us begin. You will need to sweep slowly around the whole
perimeter and then gradually speed up. Once my beam has travelled
halfway around the circumference, focus your beam on the place I start
from, then follow my lead.”
Stormaway closed his eyes to draw on his power. After a moment, a
strong green ray of light sprang forth from the wizard’s hand. It travelled
slowly in a large arc. Tarkyn followed with a bronze beam that moved
slowly along the same path as the green one. As bronze ray travelled the
last quarter of the circle, it crossed over and touched the green beam
of power. There was a sharp thwack as they connected followed by a
persistent thrumming that grew in intensity each time the rays crossed
each other again. Soon, the intensity of the light and vibration drove
Waterstone back into the shelter of the trees. As he watched, the bronze
and green rays twisted themselves around each other, over and over again.
As the green and bronze rays swept more and more quickly around the
circumference, the thrumming became louder and higher in pitch until
Waterstone imagined he could almost hear the earth screaming. The earth
within the circle was trembling and small stones bounced up and down
as each ray swept past. Suddenly, the green ray snapped out, quickly
followed by the bronze. An eerie silence filled the clearing.
Waterstone and Tarkyn were both shaken by the intensity of the
display of power, but Stormaway was quite matter-of-fact. “There. That
should do it.” He stooped over the circle and effortlessly scooped up a
handful of soil. “You see? We have shaken apart the connections between
the particles of soil. It will take no time at all to clear this out. We could
do it with our bare hands if we had to.” He looked from one to the other
and added jauntily, “but I think we’ll leave it to those with shovels.” He
frowned at the prince, who was looking a little wan, “Are you all right? “
Tarkyn waved a hand, “I will be. I just need a rest after levitating myself
here, then doing that.” He frowned irritably, “I’m getting bloody tired of
being below strength.” He looked at Waterstone, “I seem to spend my
entire life becoming tired and overtaxed. You people must think I’m a
complete weakling.”
“We do,” the woodman assured him, enjoying the shocked look from
Stormaway that he spotted out of the corner of his eye. “‘Why can’t he
hold up tree branches all night as well as all day’, we said to ourselves?
‘Why is he only holding up two at a time?’ we wondered. ‘Surely he
could manage at least four?’‘Why didn’t he fight off all the wolves singlehandedly and keep us from having to use up our arrows?’ We’ve talked of
nothing else, ever since you got here.”
“Very funny,” responded Tarkyn trenchantly.
Waterstone smiled unrepentantly. “It’s probably just as well you’ve
been sick. Otherwise we’d all have been frightened off by the extent of
your power.Well,” he qualified, “we wouldn’t be allowed to be frightened
off. At least some of us would have to stay and be terrified. But if you had
carried on like you did the first day, we would all be quivering wrecks by
now.”
“And if you lot had carried on the way you did that first day, I’d be
dead by now,” retorted Tarkyn.
“Ah, but of course, that was before we realised that only you can have
any sort of power in any confrontation between us. In our dealings with
you, even our physical prowess has been effectively stripped from us
by the oath.” Waterstone spoke lightly but there was no mistaking the
bitterness in his voice.
Suddenly the bantering had turned sour. Chagrin swept across the
clearing and the woodman received a clear image of the prince pulling
away from him.
“I am sorry, Waterstone, if I have made you feel powerless,” Tarkyn said
stiffly. “That has not been my intention. Since that first day, I have tried
not to flaunt my power. If you remember, I even gave you permission to
hit me at one point.”He ignored the strangled gurgle that emitted from
the wizard, “I cannot undo the oath. If it chafes you so badly, I give you
permission to leave so that it doesn’t continue to confront you. Others of
the woodfolk can protect me.”
Waterstone stared at him, white faced. “Are you ordering me to leave?”
Much to the two antagonists’ surprise, Stormaway intervened, “Now
hold it right there. This is getting out of hand. I don’t want either of
you to do irreparable damage to what is clearly a strong friendship.”
Woodman and prince turned to stare at him. “Tarkyn, beware of your
feelings riding your actions. Waterstone, the prince has given you the
choice because he cares about you and doesn’t want to force you to stay in
a difficult situation. Don’t force him to make your choice for you. If you
do, he may send you away for your sake so that you don’t have to make
the decision to leave him.” He frowned ferociously at them “And one
more thing, Tarkyn. I’ve told you this before but listen again. For heaven’s
sake, give people the right to feel resentful sometimes, without taking it
too personally, especially if you are looking for honesty from them.”
The prince let out a deep breath and relaxed. He ran his hand through
his hair. “Thank you, Stormaway,” he said quietly. He turned back to
his friend. “In answer to your question... no. I wasn’t ordering you to
leave….and I don’t think I was going to, before Stormaway spoke. I have
not been in the habit of ordering you around and I am not about to start
now. I did note what you said though, that you wouldn’t be allowed to be
frightened off. That’s why I gave you the permission to go. At least then,
you can have choice about that.”
Waterstone eyed him uncertainly, battling against a wellspring of
previously concealed resentment. He put his hands on his hips and stood
there looking at the prince silently for a few moments. Then in a sudden
rush, he swung his arm up and around and punched Tarkyn hard on the
jaw. Unprepared, the prince staggered backwards. A shimmering green
wall flashed up between them. Any relief the woodman may have gained
by lashing out at the prince was replaced by irritation at finding himself
cut off.
“Remove your shield,” Tarkyn snapped at the wizard. Rubbing his jaw,
the prince glanced around at the trees. Not a leaf had moved. He returned
his attention to the tense woodman who stood confronting him. “Come
on then,” he invited, with a sparkle in his eyes. “Clearly my permission
still stands. Finish what you’ve started.” He did not demean himself by
offering assurances that he wouldn’t use magic and Waterstone did not
need them.
The woodman rushed at him low and hard. As he fell onto his
back, Tarkyn brought his arms up before him, grabbed Waterstone
by his shirt and hurled the woodman over his head. Waterstone
rolled easily and turned in a couch to rush at him again. Tarkyn
twisted himself around and threw himself upward from prone into
a crouching position and put his arm across his chest as a barrier
against the impending force of Waterstone’s next attack. Just before
the woodman reached him in his headlong rush, the sorcerer twisted
sideways, then swung his arm around to thump Waterstone’s back
as he passed. The woodman went flying, driven by his own impetus
with the added force of Tarkyn’s thrust. Waterstone lay still where he
had landed.
After a long moment, Tarkyn stood up and walked over to where the
woodman lay unmoving. As he bent over him, a fist shot up and caught
him between the eyes. Tarkyn went down like a stone and shook his head
to find Waterstone laughing and sitting on top of him.
Seeing a spark of anger in the prince’s eye, Waterstone shook his
head. “Enough! Don’t go hurling me off into space again. I concede.”
He laughed as he felt the prince’s muscles reluctantly relax under him. “I
know it was a dirty trick but you’re bigger than me.”
Tarkyn frowned up at the woodman, “I don’t see why you’re conceding,
when you have me pinned down.”
Waterstone smiled, “I’m not fool enough to think that I have you
helpless, but I don’t want to fight any more. You fight pretty hard and so
do I. One of us might get badly hurt and I don’t want that.” He climbed
off and stood up before offering his hand to help Tarkyn up.
The prince’s face was sporting two bruises and a cut on his eyebrow
dripped blood down his front. Waterstone had come off relatively
unscathed with a graze down one side of his face and a slight limp.
They stood there looking at each other, breathing hard. Then a grin split
Tarkyn’s face and they descended into relieved laughter.
“Well,” gasped Tarkyn between breaths, “That made a change. I haven’t
had a good wrestle for ages, even if it was short-lived.”
Waterstone chuckled, “You’re a skilful fighter, aren’t you? No wonder
you won this tournament of yours. I was being flung all over the place
and you didn’t seem to be putting in much effort at all.”
“You pack a pretty hefty punch and you’re devious, but I’ll remember
that next time.” He pressed his arm around his ribcage. “Oh, my aching
ribs,” gasped Tarkyn. “Remember the ribs? I don’t know how much good
it did them, having you sit on me.”
“Of course I remembered the ribs,” chortled Waterstone. “I’d never
have tackled you otherwise... Laughing is probably still quite difficult
with your sore ribs, is it?” he asked with spurious sympathy.
“Yes, it is,” said Tarkyn grinning hard and trying not to laugh any more.
“At least I gave them a good workout.”
“Yes. Thanks for that,” replied the prince dryly. Tarkyn looked at
Stormaway and smiled warmly. “Thank you for not intervening. I suspect
that may have cost you quite an effort.”
Stormaway gave a reluctant smile. “Except for the fact that we are
in the middle of a complex operation and you will need your strength
for other things, I would say it probably did you both a power of good.
Unorthodox behaviour for a prince to spar with a commoner but I
suppose there is no one else.”
“Not so unorthodox. I have often trained with men at arms.” The
prince glanced at the woodman, “Besides which, Waterstone assures me
that all woodfolk are noblemen and women.” The prince entertained
himself watching Waterstone do a double take while the wizard frowned
in disapproval. Before Stormaway had time to remonstrate with him or
the woodman, Tarkyn added fuel to the fire by adding silkily, “And I don’t
think I would describe it as sparring really, would you, Waterstone?”
“Uh, no. I’m afraid not. If we had been sparring, we could have kept
going for longer.” There was a tiny pause. Then Waterstone cleared his
throat self-consciously. “And Tarkyn, thanks.”
At this juncture Thunder Storm, Autumn Leaves and six other woodfolk
wearing backpacks swung down out of the trees. Thunder Storm took
one look at the prince and asked around for some bandaging. While
Stormaway directed the woodfolk to the excavation site, Waterstone and
Thunder Storm sat the prince down and set about tidying up his face.
“So, my lord, you finally had to wear it, did you?” said Thunder Storm
noncommittally as he dabbed at Tarkyn’s split eyebrow. “I’m surprised at
you, Waterstone. You’re not usually one to hold a grudge like that. Not
once you’ve calmed down.”
“Old permission. New argument.” said Waterstone shortly.
Thunder Storm nodded slowly. “That’s interesting. I wonder if your
permission stays in place until you revoke it or until it’s used?”
The prince shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t think of a safe way of
finding out either. For the meantime, I’ll just re-iterate it so then we at
least know where we stand.” He winced as Thunderstorm gave his cut a
final wipe. “So Waterstone, you still have my permission to hit me if you
have to. Actually, that goes for Thunder Storm and Autumn Leaves too.
Just don’t do it too often.”
Waterstone looked at him strangely. “We would also know where we
stand if you revoked it.”
The prince gave his head a little shake. “Would we? Yes. I suppose we
would. I’m not thinking too straight at the moment. Let’s leave it how
it is for now. Thanks Thunder Storm,” he said as he stood up. As he
straightened, his face went white and he grunted with pain. He doubled
back over and stood clutching his side. “I think I’ll sit back down for a
minute,” he gasped between gritted teeth.
“Stay there!” rumbled Thunder Storm as he went out of focus, “I’ll get
Stormaway and Summer Rain.”
A few minutes later, Stormaway arrived with Autumn Leaves and
Summer Rain in tow, all of them looking anxious. Tarkyn waved a
dismissive hand at them. “Don’t worry. It’s not hurting while I’m sitting
down. At least not as much. I’m having a bit of trouble catching my
breath though. It’s probably because I haven’t done much strenuous
exercise until now.” He coughed suddenly and everyone was horrified
to see a fleck of blood appear at the side of his mouth. Now he was
beginning to wheeze. He coughed again bringing up more blood.
“I think we had better lie you down, even of it hurts you to straighten.”
said Stormaway.
“Wait. I have to plant the trees over the hole first,” protested Tarkyn
feebly as he was manhandled down onto the ground.
“You have to be alive to do it. Let’s get that bit sorted first.” Stormaway
knelt beside him and felt gently around the prince’s chest. “Where did it
hurt when you stood up?”
Tarkyn indicated a point halfway down on his left side. He was
struggling for breath and each exhalation brought up further flecks of
blood.