Bronze Magic (Book 1) (39 page)

he sun had reached its zenith and was beginning its journey down to
the horizon when Autumn Leaves finally trudged into the firesite.
Tarkyn was kneeling beside a small stream being shown how to
tickle trout by Rainstorm. The other woodfolk had become more or less
inured to the sorcerer’s presence and were going about their own tasks
with only the occasional glance in his direction. In actual fact, they were
quite pleased that Rainstorm had found a way to keep himself gainfully
occupied.
Autumn Leaves sat down quietly under a tree on the opposite side
of the stream and waited. Tarkyn held his arm in the water up past his
elbow. Amidst an enormous splash and a great deal of shouting, he flicked
a good-sized trout up out of the water onto the grass. Before he could
grab it, the slippery trout catapulted itself back into the water and swam
off downstream.
Tarkyn grinned at the other youth, “Nearly. I’m getting better.” His
smile faded when he caught sight of Autumn Leaves.
Rainstorm took one look at the prince’s face and said, “Right, I’m off.”
Then he thought better of it and offered, “On second thoughts, prince,
I’ll stay if you want.”
Tarkyn smiled his thanks. “That is heroic of you, Rainstorm, but I
think I’ll let you off the hook.”
As soon as Rainstorm had left, the smile dropped from his face. The
prince regarded Autumn Leaves stonily. “I presume you have been sent
to pour oil on troubled waters?”
The big woodman nodded, “Something like that.”
Tarkyn produced a court-bred smile but his eyes glittered. “There is
absolutely no need to concern yourselves. As you can see, no one is trying
to kill me and you’ll be even more pleased to know that I haven’t yet
found a way to make them take the oath. That must be a great relief to
you.” The sorcerer stood up and stared down on the woodman, “I must
warn you that I am a lot closer to burning you to a crisp now, than I
ever was when you were defending your friend.” He shook his arm free
of excess water and rolled down his sleeve. “I hope you have not had
to travel too far. Enjoy your trip back.” Tarkyn turned on his heel and
walked way.
As the prince walked past the firesite, Rainstorm fell in beside him.
“You can’t just leave him there when he’s walked all this way to talk
to you.”
Tarkyn stopped and looked at him. “Did he ask you to say that?”
Rainstorm shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes.
“You’re very compliant, all of a sudden,” observed Tarkyn dryly, “I
haven’t noticed you cooperating with other people like that.”
Rainstorm brought his eyes back up and squared his shoulders. “That’s
because I don’t necessarily agree with other people.”
“But you do agree with Autumn Leaves.”
The young woodman nodded.
“What is the point of talking to people who don’t trust me?” exclaimed
Tarkyn bitterly.
Rainstorm gave a little smile, “You spent all morning talking to people
who don’t trust you.”
Tarkyn frowned at him, “No wonder you drive people crazy.”
“How do you know I do?”
“It’s obvious.” The prince considered his words carefully. “You’re the
most perceptive person among them but you don’t know when to say
what you think and when to keep your peace. So you tell people things
they don’t want to hear… and then they get angry with you. Now you’ve
sidelined yourself by being difficult and they’ve stopped listening to you.”
Tarkyn bent down and picked up a dead stick. “Pity really. You’re worth
listening to.”
Rainstorm, unsure of how to respond, changed the subject, “Are you
going to make that grow?”
Tarkyn looked down at the stick in his hands. “This? No, it’s dead. I
was planning on destroying it further, actually.” He grinned and said,
“Watch.”
With Rainstorm’s eyes on his every move, Tarkyn methodically broke
piece after piece off the end of the stick until there was nothing left in his
hands. There was a silence.
“That’s it?” asked Rainstorm eventually.
Tarkyn laughed, “Yep. That’s just a little something I do to fiddle while
I’m chatting.”
Rainstorm scowled. “Very funny.”
“Come on,” cajoled the sorcerer. “You have to admit it was pretty
funny – you waiting to see a fireworks display and me just breaking twigs
like everyone else.”
“Hmph. I suppose it was,” conceded Rainstorm grudgingly. Then he
grinned as he overcame his wounded pride, “All right, yes. It was very
funny. I’ll have to remember not to take you too seriously.”
“And in return, I’ll take your advice and go back to talk to Autumn
Leaves.”
Rainstorm’s eyes met Tarkyn’s. “Good luck.”
Tarkyn returned to the side of the stream and sat down opposite
Autumn Leaves.
Silence reigned for an appreciable length of time.
Finally the woodman began. “Tarkyn….”
Tarkyn’s eyes shot up from his contemplation of the river.
Unnerved by their severity, Autumn Leaves faltered. “Your Highness,”
he began again, “we have been desperately worried about you.”
Tarkyn raised his eyebrows and said coolly, “You had no need for
concern. I made it impossible for you to protect me when I left. So your
precious forest was safe.”
Autumn Leaves frowned, “We were concerned for you, not the forest.”
“You don’t even know me,” replied the prince sharply. “So how could
you care for me?”
“Of course we know you,” said Autumn Leaves in some bewilderment.
The prince’s temper snapped. “If you knew me, you would know
better than to double cross me. If you knew me, you would have trusted
me with the knowledge of your fellow woodfolk. And if you knew me,
you would have known that your duplicity would destroy the last vestiges
of my trust.” Tarkyn got up and squatted beside the stream so that he
could splash water over his face. When he looked up, he was calmer but
his voice was hard. “But you do not know me and so we shall proceed
from there. I now realise that none of you trusts me, and you know that
I no longer trust you.”
“Oh come on, Tarkyn.”
“Oh come on, Tarkyn what? Come back so we can string you along
again? I don’t think so.” Tarkyn rooted around among the rocks until he
found a nice long dry stick.
He sat down again and concentrated on demolishing it. After a while
he looked up and said, “You haven’t got much to say, have you? Not like
the time you were defending your friend Waterstone. You had plenty to
say then. It’s not the same this time, is it? No righteous indignation this
time. You haven’t got much to be righteous about, have you?”
At last Autumn Leaves found his voice. “No, Tarkyn, we haven’t. We
are all feeling very unhappy about what has happened.”
“Am I supposed to feel gratified? No doubt it feels uncomfortable for
you to have been caught out.” The prince flicked the last of the stick into
the water. “My commiserations. I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
“I don’t know that Waterstone will get over it.”
“Waterstone,” said Tarkyn with venom, “will be weak with laughter at
having duped me so completely, ably assisted by you, one must hasten
to add.”
“Neither of us has ever lied to you,” protested Autumn Leaves.
“No need, when ambiguity and omission will serve you just as well.”
“Stars above, you’re hard work, Tarkyn,” said the woodman, beginning
to lose his temper.
“So I have been told,” replied the prince maddeningly
“I have come all this way to tell you we are sorry.... and we are. We
were all caught between loyalties.” Autumn Leaves raised eyes to meet the
prince’s. “If you think about it, you weren’t planning to tell Stormaway
about these woodfolk, were you? So you too can be torn in more than
one direction.”
The prince raised his eyebrows. “The cases are not at all the same.
Stormaway may feel loyalty to me. That is his prerogative, but I feel none
towards him. He has foisted himself upon me and won’t destroy the oath
at my request.” Nevertheless, Autumn Leaves’ words had at last opened a
slight chink in Tarkyn’s armour.
The heavy woodman stood up and stretched. He paced up and down
a few times then turned and looked down at the prince. He took a
deep breath and said, “Your Highness. Imagine if a foreigner came into
your kingdom and took it over. Imagine that the person was actually
quite reasonable and you grew to like him. At what point would you be
prepared to tell this foreigner about all your friends and family hiding in
the woods behind the palace? After a week? A month? A year? What if
you knew that no matter what you thought of this foreigner, your friends
and family would not want to meet him and would definitely not want
to be ruled by him?”
“If I knew and liked this foreigner so well,” replied the prince coldly
“could I not have told him about these friends and family, knowing he
would not interfere unless I agreed?”
“What if you had sworn an oath from the first day you could talk,
never to reveal the presence of your kin?”
Tarkyn stared at him. Finally, he heaved a deep, deep sigh. “Then,” said
the prince slowly, “I would have no choice but to remain silent.”
A strange mixture of sadness, loneliness and resigned acceptance welled
up out of Tarkyn and rolled out across the clearing and into the forest. All
the woodfolk stopped what they were doing and looked across at him.
Tarkyn, unaware of his public reaction, stood up and put his hand out
to Autumn Leaves, “Here. I’ll help you across the stream. It will save you
walking around.”
“Thanks,” said the woodman, about to grasp it. Instead he found
himself floating in the air and being drawn across the stream to land
neatly beside Tarkyn. He staggered slightly and looked at the sorcerer
with big round eyes, “Wow. I wasn’t ready for that!”
Tarkyn smiled slightly but not with his usual exuberance. “Come on.
Let’s see if we can get you a cup of tea or something.” He turned and
waved his arm around. “I presume you know all these people?” It was
then that he realised that everyone was staring at him. He stopped and
frowned. “Is anything wrong? I didn’t promise not to use magic, did I?
And I’m not threatening anyone…”
As Raging Water came stomping forward, Tarkyn braced himself for
another tirade. The gnarly old woodman surprised him by giving him
a couple of friendly thumps on the back and saying, “Come on, young
man. It can’t be all that bad. Maybe we’ve all been a bit hard on you.”
He steered the bewildered young sorcerer over to the firesite and sat him
down, with his hand still on his shoulder.
All the woodfolk gathered around him. Tarkyn was not fearful because
they all seemed relaxed and even friendly, but he was confused. Even
Autumn Leaves did not look sure that he knew what was happening.
Someone produced cups of tea for everyone and they all sat themselves
down around him.
Raging Water addressed himself to Autumn Leaves, “I think you should
know that this young prince of yours was willing to sacrifice himself to
preserve unity among the woodfolk.” He drew his brows together in a
fearsome frown. “And he nearly talked us into killing him so that you
could all be released from the oath. The only thing that saved him was
that we couldn’t assist you to betray an oath of honour.” The old man
huffed, “It was a close run race, though.”
Autumn Leaves was looking a bit sick. “Stars above, Tarkyn! What
were you thinking? We don’t want to lose you.”
Tarkyn who had been gazing steadfastly at the ground, looked up at
this and said with a wry smile, “I’m glad there was a reason I could accept,
for you not telling me about these other woodfolk. At least now I know
that you would not have willingly misled me.”
“But things are still not well between us, are they?”
Tarkyn took a sip of tea, “They are as good as they can be,” he said
carefully.
Autumn Leaves frowned at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” put in Rainstorm, rolling his eyes at Autumn Leaves’ need
for clarification, “that since he is not woodfolk, there will always be secrets
he can’t know. So in some ways, he will always be isolated.”
Tarkyn glanced at his feisty ally but his attention was then diverted
by hearing sympathetic mutterings around him and receiving several
more kindly hands patting him on the back. He shook his head slightly,
thinking this was a very strange day.
“Tarkyn, my boy,” said Raging Water, “I’m afraid things may get a
little worse for you before they get better but I’m thinking there are some
things we need to discuss amongst ourselves.And with a forest guardian
arrived among us, we must bring together representatives from all regions
of the forest and all groups of woodfolk to convene a gathering.”
Tarkyn glanced at Autumn Leaves, “Remember when you said that
we couldn’t gather all woodfolk together because it was unsafe to
have large numbers together for too long? Was that reason genuine or
was it really because of the existence of woodfolk who hadn’t sworn
the oath?”
The heavy woodman shook his head. “No Tarkyn. My objection still
stands. We can’t have too many people congregated together for long.
Raging Water’s intention of convening a gathering will help us to pool
our knowledge without having a dangerously large group.”
“I see.” A certain reserve in Tarkyn’s tone betrayed his belief that this
suggestion would have been put forward earlier if they had been able to
be straightforward with him.
Before Autumn Leaves could fashion a reply, Raging Water cut
in, “Even in doing this now, we are honouring you with our trust by
introducing you to woodfolk you should, by rights, never meet.”
“I would not wish you to betray your woodfolk oath,” said Tarkyn
stiffly. “I suggest you confer amongst yourselves and keep me informed,
as you see fit.”
Autumn Leaves privately mourned the change in Tarkyn. His newly
found, effusive assurance as guardian of the forest had evaporated. “What
about your demand that we always keep you informed?” he asked.
“I cannot make demands on people who are not under oath to me.
And I can no longer expect you to keep me fully informed either, since
you are restricted by your obligations as woodfolk. I would not use the
threat of the forest’s destruction to override your woodfolk oath,” said
Tarkyn, tacitly pointing out that he could if he chose to. “I will leave you
to your planning. Rainstorm, do you think that if we persevere, we may
be able to contribute a trout or two towards dinner?”