Bronze Magic (Book 1) (43 page)

The prince gave a slight smile. “You know, I was beginning to think
things were settling down,” the smile faded, “but when I found out about
the other woodfolk, everything I thought I knew, fell apart.”
Waterstone heaved a sigh, “I can imagine it did. I am so sorry,
Tarkyn, that you had to go through feeling betrayed again. I was as open
as I possibly could be, given the demands of secerecy placed on us by
woodfolk lore.” He looked at the prince. “I really don’t have any ulterior
motives for my friendship with you…. And I’ve done the best I could to
repair the damage.”
Tarkyn gave a relaxed smile as he went back to fiddling with his
bandage, his arm still around Sparrow. “Don’t worry. Your best is well
and truly good enough.”
After a minute or two, the forest guardian shifted his weight under
the little girl and said, “I keep receiving images from various animals and
birds warning me of Stormaway’s impending arrival. I don’t know why -
maybe because he is very angry and they can sense his antipathy towards
us. I think we had better go and meet him before he storms in here and
wreaks havoc. What do you think?”
Waterstone nodded, “Good idea. Then we can stall him, if we need
to, to give those woodfolk who wish to, time to leave. I’ll ask Creaking
Bough or Thunder Storm to mind Sparrow. They can keep her with their
two kids.”
“So, do I need to ask a creature to guide us to him?”
“Much as that would be entertaining for me, no,” replied the woodman.
“I know where to find him. He will be following our trail.”
Twenty minutes later, on a thin deer track through the depths of
the forest, Stormaway rounded a corner and came into view. When he
spotted Tarkyn and Waterstone, he stopped dead and put his hands on
his hips.
“So, you found him, did you?” said the wizard sternly. Stormaway
then ignored Waterstone and turned the full strength of his wrath on
Tarkyn, “Heavens above, Sire, what on earth did you think you were
doing, disappearing like that?” He waved his hand in the woodman’s
general direction. “I’m used to this lot disappearing but not you. The
forest’s a dangerous place. There are all sorts of people lurking in the
forest who might wish you harm.”
Tarkyn raised his eyebrows. “What? Me, in particular?”
“Yes. You, in particular. In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve been branded
a rogue sorcerer.”
The sorcerer grimaced. “Hmm. I do keep forgetting that, I must
admit.”
“So what were you doing with yourself?” demanded Stormaway
angrily. “And why didn’t you let anyone know where you were going?
You left everyone in a total panic.”
Waterstone waited with interest to hear how Tarkyn was going to
respond to this.
The prince looked his retainer in the eye and drew a breath.
“Stormaway, I apologise if I distressed you in any way. However, I was
upset and needed time away from you all to sort things out.” He let a
faint note of hauteur enter his voice. “Beyond that, there is nothing else I
am prepared to tell you. My business is my own, after all.”
“Bloody arrogant Tamadils!” exclaimed the wizard. “I don’t know how
I’ve put up with you all. You’re as bad as your father. Use you one minute.
Freeze you out the next.”
Tarkyn relented, “Stormaway, I don’t mean to freeze you out. However,
equally, there will always be times when what I am doing is not necessarily
your business, or anyone else’s, for that matter.” He paused. “I don’t know
everything about you. You don’t need to know everything about me.”
Stormaway eyed him, only half placated. “But you can’t just run off
when it suits you. You need the protection of the woodfolk.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you that I do not intend to
make a habit of running off, as you put it.” The prince raised his eyebrows
derisively, “And I think I have made it clear in the past that I value the
woodfolk rather more than you do.”
As they neared the clearing, Tarkyn could see that there were notably
fewer woodfolk. However, he was shocked to realise that many who had
attended the ceremony had remained. He spoke quietly to Waterstone,
“We can’t just walk in without preparing him. He might attack them to
protect me.”
Once the woodman had nodded his agreement, Tarkyn turned to the
wizard and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Stormaway, before
we go on, I must ask you to trust me. Whatever happens, do not attack
anyone. At the very worst, raise your shield if you must.”
Just as he finished speaking, Raging Water stomped up to Stormaway.
“Good evening, old man. You’ll be wanting something to eat and drink
after your long walk, I’m thinking. I am Raging Water.”
Stormaway, with years of court intrigue behind him, barely missed
a beat as he replied, “Good evening. I would indeed be glad of some
refreshments after my long solitary journey here.” He sketched a slight
bow, but tension showed in every line of his body. “I am Stormaway
Treemaster, wizard.” As he fell in beside the old woodman, he asked
tightly, “Would I be right in assuming that you are not bound by the
oath to His Royal Highness?”
“That would be correct, wizard.”
Stormaway sent a sharp glance to Tarkyn. “And this would be your
private business you would say nothing about, I presume?”
The prince nodded.
They reached the firesite and Stormaway was introduced to the wide
array of woodfolk from different parts of the forest. He sat himself down
on a log and was given wine and a plate of spit roast deer, bread and fruit.
Everyone seated themselves comfortably around him and indulged for
a short time in a desultory chat about the weather, the harvests and the
potential for marketing.
“I did have my suspicions that there might be more woodfolk than
I had met,” said Stormaway eventually. “There was so much produce
from such a small number. However, I thought the prince would be safe
enough as long as he was with woodfolk who were sworn to protect him.”
The wizard took a sip of his wine and turned to frown at Waterstone.
“I am surprised you brought him here, nevertheless. I don’t know how
you could be sure that you could protect him against so many, if it were
needed - no offence intended.” he added, glancing around the group.
“Besides, don’t you have a code of secrecy?”
Amused glances passed between the assembled woodfolk.
Raging Water answered. “Wizard, your young prince appeared among
us many hours before Waterstone and his lot arrived.” The woodman
bent a rather evil smile on the wizard. “He’d have been long dead by then
if we had decided to kill him.”
Stormaway turned a stony face towards the prince.
Tarkyn smiled cheerily at him. “But as you can see, I am still alive and
kicking. Better still, woodfolk don’t have to worry about protecting me
against each other and we can all get on with facing the coming threat
together.”
If Tarkyn thought this would mollify his faithful retainer, he was sadly
mistaken. Stormaway glared furiously at him and demanded angrily,
“Your Highness, how could you place yourself at such risk? Have you no
understanding of your importance both as prince and as guardian of the
forest?”
For the first time, the new woodfolk saw Tarkyn’s arrogance emerge.
In a cool voice that sent a chill up the spine of his listeners, the prince
replied, “I know exactly how much or how little I am worth. I will place
myself at risk when and where I see fit and, unlike you, I will place my
trust in the good sense and honour of the woodfolk. Not only that, but
I will thank you to remember to whom you are speaking and to treat me
with some vestige of respect.”
The woodfolk watched him in shock. Gone was the placating, selfdeprecating sorcerer with whom they had spent the week. In his place,
was the proud, sure prince of the realm asserting his authority. Then
Tarkyn’s anger was gone as quickly as it had come. He took a short breath
and continued more calmly, but still in a manner that would brook no
opposition. “Stormaway, I am not answerable to you. I know you have
my best interests at heart and I will always listen to your advice, but I will
not be called to account by you.”
The wizard looked steadily at him. “I beg your pardon, Si`````re,” he
said stiffly after a moment. “Perhaps I did not express myself very well.
I would appreciate it if someone could take the time to tell me what
happened that has led us to where we are now.”
Stormaway frowned as he learned the reason for the prince’s flight.
As several woodfolk filled the wizard in on Tarkyn’s deliberate surrender
to the woodfolk’s will, his mouth became set in a thin tight line. Then
his eyes grew round as he heard about Tarkyn’s inauguration into the
woodfolk as a member of Waterstone’s family.
When he was clear on the details, Stormaway turned once more to
Tarkyn who was quietly concentrating on demolishing a long dry stick
while everyone around him talked about him. “My lord, I wonder if you
realise how great your achievements have been? The honour you have
been accorded is breathtaking.”
Tarkyn dropped the last of the stick and straightened his bandage a
little. He smiled around at everyone and said, “Oh yes, Stormaway, I do.
I told you before; I know exactly how much and how little I am worth.”
Stormaway cleared his throat. “And might I enquire where I am left
amidst all these changes?”
“Stormaway, I cannot decide for the woodfolk. I don’t think you are in
any danger, though, or Autumn Leaves would not have let us bring you
to this firesite. Is that correct?” Several heads nodded. The prince placed
a hand on the wizard’s shoulder and addressed the woodfolk. “As forest
guardian, I need Stormaway by my side. He is a skilful powerful wizard
who can teach me to use my own powers more fully. I know we don’t
agree on the oath but I cannot force him to change. However, I’m sure
he and I will continue to discuss it.” His amber eyes swept around the
woodfolk. “Have you worked out what you are going to do?”
Ancient Elm’s creaky old voice made itself heard. “We have decided
to put up with you, Stormaway Treemaster, even though you created
that disgraceful oath. Not only that, we have decided that, as our forest
guardian’s companion, you should be included in woodfolk affairs as
they concern our guardian. From what we understand, you have already
assisted woodfolk against the evil that hunts us.” Her bony shoulders
twitched in a shrug. “And if you’ve known about woodfolk for twelve
years and haven’t let on, there’s no reason to suppose you would start
now.” She gave a little cackle. “Besides, it is very handy to have a link with
the outside world. We have all used you to trade our goods for us and it
would be churlish to turn on you now.”
The wizard raised his eyebrows. “I must admit I am pleasantly surprised
that woodfolk not involved in the oath are willing to work with me. I can
see I may have to re-evaluate my preconceptions of all of you woodfolk,
but particularly of you, Your Highness.”
apping Water carried the empty skin bag down to the stream and
walked along a little way looking for a place where she could easily
draw clear water. The morning sky was heavy with dark rolling clouds
and the stream had swollen with overnight rain. She pushed past a bush
growing close to the stream water’s edge and found herself standing only
feet away from the prince, who was seated on the bank.
When Tarkyn started and looked around, clearly discomforted,
Lapping Water stepped back and prepared to withdraw.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” said the woodwoman nervously, “I did
not mean to intrude.”
Tarkyn reddened and held out his left hand, which was trailing his
bandage, in a restraining gesture. “No. Please don’t go. I was just fiddling
with this bandage and trying to get it back on.” He looked around him
and nodded slightly downstream. “There is a good spot just there for
drawing water.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Lapping Water walked around him and knelt
to fill her waterbag. She watched Tarkyn out of the corner of her eye as he
made one attempt after another to wind the bandage neatly around his
right arm. When her waterbag was full, she hung it from a nearby branch
and came over to him.
“Here. Let me do it,” she said quietly. “It will be much easier with two
hands.”
Tarkyn glanced up at her. “Thanks, but I think I just about have it
in place now.” Even as he said it, the other end of the bandage came
loose and started to unwind. “Blast! No, I haven’t. Drat the thing.” He
grimaced at her and gave a little sigh. “Very well, thank you. I accept
your offer.”
He held out his right arm and the bandage in his left hand. As she
took the bandage and began to straighten it out, she asked, “Why didn’t
someone do this for you in the first place?”
“Someone did. I just took it off and now I can’t get it back on again.”
A slight frown appeared on Lapping Water’s face but she didn’t ask
anything further. As she began to wind on the bandage, her frown
deepened and she looked more closely at the cut on his arm. “You can’t
re-bandage your arm like this. There’s dirt in the cut.”
“I know there is,” said the prince in a tight voice.
Lapping Water brought her soft green eyes up to meet Tarkyn’s. “So
why are you leaving it there? You must know it will hinder the healing?”
A dull red had seeped into the prince’s cheeks. He dropped his eyes.
“If you must know...”
Lapping Water put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No. I don’t have
to know if you don’t want to tell me. I did not mean to make you feel
uncomfortable.”
Tarkyn raised his eyes and gave a half smile. “No. Having come
this far, I will tell you…although I admit it is a bit embarrassing.”
He took a breath. “I want to make sure the cut leaves a scar so I can
carry it as a reminder…of being accepted by Waterstone and by all of
you woodfolk.”