Bronze Magic (Book 1) (44 page)

Lapping Water smiled as she resumed the bandaging of his arm. “I
think that is a fine thing to do. I suppose you could heal yourself anyway
if it became infected, couldn’t you?”
He nodded, rather surprised that she had taken it so prosaically. After
a minute, he said, “Did you know I could actually feel Waterstone’s blood
going around inside me? It’s beginning to fade now. I suppose it’s been
absorbed into my own blood now, but to start with, I could have told you
where every drop of it was inside me.”
“Ooh, that sounds quite horrible.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did it
make you feel queasy?”
Tarkyn laughed. “No. It was just interesting.” He shrugged. “I don’t
suppose Waterstone felt anything at all. I think it’s part of the forest
guardian thing.” He glanced at the woodwoman to gauge her reaction.
She finished tying the bandage then looked at him. “You still don’t feel
comfortable about being a forest guardian, do you?”
The prince shook his head. “It’s getting better but it’s all moving
so fast: all of these new abilities emerging and developing. Growing
plants. Talking to birds and animals, not in words, but you know what
I mean. And weird things like turning green and healing myself and
feeling Waterstone’s blood. Even being able to send images and feelings.
I couldn’t do that before, either.” He shook his head again and smiled
ruefully, as he rose to his feet. “It’s a lot to get used to.”
“I suppose so.”Lapping Water walked over to the tree and retrieved her
waterbag. “Still, it must be exciting, having all these new experiences. I’d
give my right arm to be able to do what you can do.”
Tarkyn smiled. “Would you? That’s pretty much what Rainstorm said.
Well, words to that effect” He reached for the waterbag. “Here, let me
take that.”
“Why?” she asked unexpectedly.
The prince frowned in confusion. “Why what?”
“Why should you take the waterbag?”
Tarkyn was taken aback. He suddenly realised any argument about
gentlemanly courtesy wasn’t going to cut the mustard. “Well,” he said,
“because I am repaying the kindness you showed me in re-bandaging my
arm.”
She glanced at him uncertainly. “I’m not sure that it’s proper.”
“What sort of proper?” Tarkyn asked in some alarm.
“Well, you’re the prince and we’re supposed to be serving you.”
The prince breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, is that all? I can get around
that easily enough. I insist that you let me carry your water.”
“I can’t argue with that then, can I?” Lapping Water grinned. “You
realise that if we hadn’t spent all this time talking about it, we could have
been back at the firesite with the water by now.”
“I can see gratitude is not one of your strong traits then,” said Tarkyn
dryly as he walked back up the stream beside her, carrying her waterbag.
Lapping Water flashed him a smile and answered, “Not for anything
as trivial as that.”
Just as he began to frown, Tarkyn realised he was being deliberately
provoked. Hard on the heels of this realisation, came the uncomfortable
knowledge that he didn’t know how to respond. He was rescued from his
predicament by the spectacle of a large group of woodfolk congregated in
the clearing, clustered around Tree Wind and the harvesters.
“Oh look, the harvesters are about to report on what they found at the
end of the wolves’ tracks.” Lapping Water’s eyes twinkled at him, “They
would have done it yesterday but other issues took precedence.” She took
off and called over her shoulder, “Come on. The harvesters should be able
to tell us where the riders and wolves came from.”
Tarkyn followed more slowly, surveying the clustered woodfolk. He
skirted the edge of the firesite and found somewhere to hang the waterbag.
Then he stood under the shadow of the tree and watched while everyone
milled around, smiling, chatting and mind talking to each other. The
prince felt a deep sense of contentment that these were his people. But
at the same time, he knew that when they became aware of him standing
there, he would become the centre of attention. Standing apart was a
quiet pleasure, he reflected, when one could choose to be a part of things.
Inevitably, someone noticed him standing there and almost
immediately there was a lull in the conversation.
“Ah, Your Highness,” said Tree Wind, “Now that you have graced us
with your presence, we can begin.”
Tarkyn inclined his head, thinking that his new status as a woodman
showed no signs of shielding him from Tree Wind’s antipathy. “I beg
your pardon. I did not realise that you were waiting for me.”
Tree Wind continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “There is an
encampment of many men about forty miles due west of here,” she
explained out aloud, mostly for the benefit of Stormaway and Tarkyn.
“The horsemen and the wolf returned there. The young man who led
them has other trained wolves chained up in the encampment.”
“How many sorcerers? Any wizards?” asked Stormaway.
Tree Wind shrugged, “I don’t know the difference between sorcerers
and wizards but I can tell you there were at least three, maybe four
hundred of them.”
“Three or four hundred?” The wizard whistled. “That’s the beginning
of a small army. Were they all men? Or were there women and children
as well?”
The woodwoman thought carefully. “I would say about three quarters
were men. The rest were women and children. Many of them looked like
the travellers you see along the woodland roads.”
“So, were they bandits?” asked Tarkyn.
Tree Wind avoided his eye but answered his question, “No, my lord.
I don’t think so. I don’t know what they are doing in the forest but they
don’t look like they are planning to clear trees for farming and they don’t
look as rough as the usual bandits. I think we will have to watch them
and try to work out what they are up to.”
“Other than trying to hunt down woodfolk, you mean,” said Thunder
Storm dryly.
“Yes.” After a slight hesitation, Tree Wind added, with the faintest
undertone of derision, “Although perhaps His Highness was mistaken in
his vision of that.”
“Perhaps I was,” answered the prince silkily. “For those of you who
did not see it the first time, would you like me to repeat the image of
the wolves’ attack and the arrival of the riders at the scene of the wolves’
deaths? Then you can draw your own conclusions. Perhaps you may
notice things we missed.”
Because he was annoyed with Tree Wind, Tarkyn did not warn anyone
to sit down. Consequently, woodfolk fell like ninepins as his image of
the eagle took them soaring over the forest to see the wolves’ approach.
The group that Tarkyn had begun to think of as his home guard all knew
what was coming and had managed either to sit down in time or brace
themselves to stay upright.
“Tarkyn. Stop it,” whispered Autumn Leaves, smothering a laugh.
“This is serious.”
“So is being doubted. Hang on!” said the sorcerer unrepentantly. “After
the wolf attack, I’ll show you the swallow’s view of the hunters riding
through the bush. The eagle’s flight was easy, compared to this one.”
The fallen woodfolk wisely decided not to try to stand up until the
visions were finished. Even so, many of them looked a little pasty by the
time they had seen the forest below them through the swallow’s eyes as it
bobbed and swooped its way through the air. The owl’s view of the wolf
and horsemen’s arrival was more measured and they were able to recover
before the images concluded.
There was a stunned silence as the woodfolk unused to Tarkyn, took in
the scope of the forest guardian’s connection with the woodlands.
“Of course,” said Tarkyn in an off-hand manner, completely unmoved
by their reaction, “I may be providing you with inaccurate or mistaken
images. I don’t know how you can be sure.” His eyes glittered with anger.
“Now calm down, young man,” said Raging Water, “No need to fly into
your high boughs. I think we would all like you to be mistaken because
the alternative, that someone knows about woodfolk and is trying to
hunt us down, is a pretty frightening concept.” He huffed out his cheeks.
“However, I’m sorry to say I think your images are quite conclusive and
we have a serious problem on our hands.” As an afterthought he added,
“It’s just as well we didn’t kill you. I think you’re going to come in quite
handy, one way and another.”
This last comment finally drew a smile from the offended sorcerer.
Tarkyn gave a small bow. “Happy to be of service.”
“Oh my word! He’s bowing again.” Raging Water frowned repressively,
“In that case, young Tarkyn, what else do you have to offer us as our
forest guardian?”
The sorcerer thought for a moment. “Protection if you are under
attack, perhaps.” Tarkyn nodded at the edge of the clearing. “If a band
of sorcerers or wolves came rushing in here, I could throw up a shield
to protect us all, like so,” A bronze dome appeared around them. “But
you probably can’t get out any more than they could get in.” Only the
conversational tone of the sorcerer’s voice saved the woodfolk from
wholesale panic as they found themselves trapped. “Go on. Waterstone,
try to get out. It won’t hurt.”
Waterstone pushed hard against the translucent bronze barrier. It
bulged slightly but showed no signs of giving way. Tarkyn turned to the
wizard. “Is there a way of making it possible to leave the protection of the
shield while keeping it strong against attack?”
Stormaway shook his head. “I don’t think so….unless you can raise it
a little on one side?”
The sorcerer focused on changing the shape of the shield so that it
wasn’t a complete hemisphere. A small gap appeared along the ground
near Waterstone.
“Try that,” he said to Waterstone. When the woodman looked askance
at him, the sorcerer added, “Don’t worry. It won’t fall down on you, as long
as I concentrate. But even if it does, it won’t go through you.” He glanced at
Stormaway for confirmation. “I think the worst that could happen is that
you would be pinned to the ground until I removed the shield.”
The wizard nodded.
Waterstone took a deep breath and began to wriggle his way under the
shield. As the woodfolk watched, the shield dropped slowly down and
held Waterstone in place. His eyes widened with fear.
“It’s quite safe, Waterstone,” said Tarkyn, sending a wave of reassurance
to everyone in general. “Tell me if it becomes too uncomfortable. I am
slowly lowering that side of the shield to see what happens. At a word
from you, I’ll remove it.”
Waterstone exerted an extra effort and after several attempts that each
became more frantic than the last, pulled himself free. Even before he had
rolled around and stood to face Tarkyn, white faced and angry, the shield
had winked out of existence.
“Blast you, Tarkyn! That was frightening,” growled the woodman.
“Sorry. You could have stopped me.” Tarkyn smiled ruefully at him.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, although it was very firm pressure. I think the little ones would
panic if they got caught like that.”
“It’s not something I would plan to happen. I just need to know where
we stand if you are all trying to leave and something distracts me.”
“On the other hand,” said Tree Wind dryly, “we could just disappear.”
“I agree.” Tarkyn looked at her steadily. “Go on then. Demonstrate.”
In the blink of an eye, Tree Wind was gone.
The sorcerer’s mouth quirked, “Not just Tree Wind. Everyone. I want
to see how safe that will make you from wolves and sorcerers.” He turned
around as he found himself talking to thin air. “Stars above, you people
are brilliant. I wish I could do that.” He turned to Stormaway. “Do you
know where they are?”
Stormaway looked around carefully. “They are hiding in the trees and
bushes around the clearing.”
Tarkyn stood with his hands on his hips, letting his gaze travel slowly
across the foliage of the trees and bushes. Gradually, his eyes tuned in and
then, as he focused in on the occasional flicker of movement, he could
make out the dim outline of some part of a person.
“You can come back now, if you’d like to.”
Immediately he was surrounded by woodfolk as before. He frowned
around the group until he spotted Autumn Leaves.
“Autumn Leaves, I distinctly remember you telling me that woodfolk
don’t have any magic. So what do you call that, then?”
The big woodman shrugged. “We all do it. It’s nothing special.”
“It certainly is special,” retorted the sorcerer. “I can’t do it. Neither can
Stormaway, I would think.”
The wizard shook his head in confirmation.
“So, how do you do it?” asked Tarkyn.
“We just think ourselves somewhere else and hidden,” replied Autumn
Leaves.
“And how far can you go?”
“I don’t really know. Not far. It has to be somewhere in sight.”
Sun Shower interrupted sharply at this point. “Do you think we can
curtail this discussion until after lunch? It is getting late and the little
ones are hungry. We have had the harvesters’ report, and we do not need
to stand around for the rest of the day answering your questions.”
A flush of colour darkened Tarkyn’s cheeks. “I apologize,” he replied
stiffly. “That was thoughtless of me. Please don’t let me stop you.” He
swung on his heel and walked away from them down to the stream.
Tarkyn reflected that he always seemed to seek the comfort of running
water when he was upset.
Behind him, he could hear Raging Water saying, “That was badly
done, you grumpy woman. He didn’t make everyone stand there and
listen to him. You could have been getting things done quietly in the
background if you were so worried about it.”
“I will not have that young upstart coming in here and taking over.
I don’t mind him being woodfolk. In fact I think he deserves it but it
doesn’t give him the right to monopolise our time.”
Gradually, as Tarkyn listened, others joined in the argument and
before long, a heated discussion was raging amongst the whole group.
Leaving them to debate his behaviour, the prince slowly made his way
down the bank of the stream, watching tiny fish in the shallows and
waterboatmen skating across the top of the water. Soon he had left the
noise of the woodfolk behind him and immersed himself in the quiet
sounds of the woods.