Bronze Magic (Book 1) (45 page)

Here, the woodlands were mostly towering old oak trees, leaves turning
yellow and brown and starting to fall. The forest floor was a carpet of
gold. The sorcerer focused his will for a moment and lifted himself high
up into the branches of a gnarly old oak. He settled himself in the crook
of two branches and closed his eyes.
After a while, Tarkyn became aware that he was being watched.
Opening his eyes, he found himself face to face with a red squirrel, perched
on a nearby branch. A feeling of sympathy washed gently through the
air. The squirrel flicked its tail and in two quick movements, was sitting
on the top of Tarkyn’s raised knee. She sat there looking at him then,
in an unmistakable gesture, offered him the acorn she held between her
front paws.
Tarkyn smiled and accepted the gift. “Thank you, my friend.”
The squirrel nodded at him expectantly and Tarkyn realised that she
was waiting for him to eat the acorn. Keeping his thoughts about the
flavour of acorns carefully masked, the forest guardian peeled back the
hard outer skin of the acorn with his teeth and took a small bite of the
acorn’s pale flesh. It was every bit as bitter as he had been dreading.
Using a lifetime of court training, Tarkyn managed to stop his face from
screwing up in distaste and to produce a grateful smile at the same time.
The unfortunate consequence of this was that the squirrel disappeared
briefly to return with another acorn.
Tarkyn doggedly finished the first acorn but couldn’t face eating
another. Luckily he had an inspiration and pointed first to the acorn and
then to his pocket. The squirrel who was a great hoarder herself, seemed
to think this was an excellent plan and showed every sign of approval
when Tarkyn pocketed the second acorn. He smiled with relief that the
squirrel assumed was gratitude.
“So, my friend,” said the prince, “Despite my best efforts, they are all
still fighting over me. I think we now have four separate groups in total;
those who are and are not bound by the oath, and within each of those
two groups, those who resent me having any authority and those who
don’t.” After sending out a careful request, Tarkyn began to stroke the
squirrel as he talked. “Trouble is, the resentful ones see me giving orders
when I’m just trying to take part in a discussion like anyone else.” He
sighed. “Maybe I just come across as more arrogant then I realise. Now I
think about it, I certainly do a lot of the talking. Maybe I should go and
find Waterstone. He’ll be able to give me some perspective.”
“What about me, little brother? Will I do?”
Tarkyn started, making the squirrel flicked her way quickly up a
nearby branch. He looked around to see Ancient Oak peering at him
from around the enormous trunk of the oak.
“Dog’s teeth!” exclaimed Tarkyn. “Is this a family trait, sneaking up
on people when they are having a quiet conversation with themselves?”
The woodman smiled a little uncertainly, “It must be, I suppose.” He
nodded at the squirrel. “Do you think you can get your little friend to
come back down?”
“Sit down. I’ll try.”
Tarkyn looked up at the squirrel who was watching him warily from a
perch about ten feet above them. He sent up an apology for frightening
her, then a wave of reassurance followed by invitation. She stared at him
for a few moments then flicked her way back down to him to perch
herself on the knee furthest from Ancient Oak.
“Wow. That is fantastic,” breathed Ancient Oak. “Do you think I
could pat her?”
Tarkyn smiled. “Possibly. Let her get used to you first. I’ll ask her in a
minute.”
The woodman frowned. “Can animals talk then?”
“Not in words. We use images and emotions instead.” The forest
guardian raised his eyebrows, “I’ve just realised. My mind linking is
exactly the same as that of all the creatures but not like the woodfolk’s.
Stormaway thought my type of mind linking was unique in Eskuzor but
it’s only unique among people. It’s quite common amongst everything
else. Mmm, interesting, don’t you think?”
Ancient Oak raised his eyebrows. “Very.”
“So, big brother,” said Tarkyn, taking pleasure in the fact that his older
brother was in fact notably smaller than he. “Did you jump or were you
pushed?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you volunteer to come and find me, or were you talked
into it?”
“Oh. Well, to tell you the truth, Waterstone suggested it but I didn’t
mind. I figured we are going to have to get to know each other better,
sooner or later.”
Immediately a constrained silence fell over them as they each tried to
think of something to say.
Eventually, Ancient Oak said, “Sparrow seems to have taken to you
then.”
Tarkyn gave a slight smile. “I’ve taken to her too. I’m quite surprised
really. I haven’t had much to do with children before.”
Ancient Oak looked sideways at Tarkyn and cleared his throat.
“You know, I’m not sure that I deserved that apology you gave me
yesterday. In fact, I think I owe you one. I’m not surprised you
snapped at me on the first day. After all, I didn’t treat you well, as
a stranger newly arrived among us, telling you how unwelcome you
were…” He shrugged apologetically. “But I have grown up with the
resentment of the oath all around me and I forgot to form my own
opinion.” He gave Tarkyn a warm smile. “I didn’t make that mistake
a second time.”
Tarkyn could hear Waterstone’s values reflected in his younger brother’s
words. He smiled in return and opened his mind to let Ancient Oak into
an interchange of reassurance and query with the squirrel, before saying,
“You may pat her, if you like.”
When he had settled into stroking the squirrel, Ancient Oak asked, “If
you don’t like being left out of things, why did you leave us all to it, when
you must have known we were talking about you?”
The prince’s smile became underpinned with anger. “I said I don’t
like being left out of anything important. Frankly, people discussing my
behaviour in that manner are beneath my notice and always have been.
I will talk to you or Waterstone or Autumn Leaves about it, maybe a few
others. But I am not going to indulge a rampant mob by taking them
seriously. It matters very little what they decide I should do, because I
have no intention of consulting them.”
Silence greeted this pronouncement. After a few minutes, Tarkyn
realised that Ancient Oak was looking white and strained.
The prince frowned and leant forward, “Are you all right?” he asked
gently. “You look a bit ill.”
The woodman glanced up at him. His voice was tight when he spoke.
“I forgot who you truly are. And now you have reminded me. For a while
there, we were just two people talking. Now, I remember that you are
King Markazon’s son and my liege. I apologise. I should not have been
so familiar with you.”
Tarkyn leaned back in a sudden movement that startled the squirrel.
She flicked her tail in annoyance and in a series of swift jumps, disappeared
up into the branches.
The prince sent a brief apology after her then turned to study the
woodman for a few moments while he worked out what to say. “I may
be King Markazon’s son – and I understand completely what you are
implying about my behaviour by saying that – but now, so too are you.”
He hesitated before continuing, his demeanour making it clear that he
was sharing a confidence, not a recrimination. “And so I will tell you
something that I wouldn’t bother saying to the vast majority of woodfolk...
I loved my father. And I lost him when I was young and nothing in
my life has caused me greater regret. He may have been autocratic and
volatile but he could also be gruffly kind, and he tried to be fair... But
above all, he was my father... and until I came to the woodlands, I was
unquestioningly proud to be his son.”
After a moment, Ancient Oak replied quietly, “Do not let woodfolk
resentment damage your pride in him. We have had no experience of
monarchs. I was too young to be involved at the time, but I have seen
the memories. King Markazon was a formidable man, used to absolute
rule. From his point of view, he compromised. Perhaps if he had come
to know us better, he may have compromised more. But he worked
tirelessly to save the woodfolk struck down by illness.” He glanced at
Tarkyn. “And from what I can gather, Markazon went against all his
instincts and traditions to make sure that you would be safe with us
when he was gone.”
“Yes, he did, didn’t he... even if it was at the cost of your free will and
mine.” Tarkyn gave a little smile. “We are each his legacy to the other.”
He took a deep breath. “Ancient Oak, you may be as familiar with me
as you like. You are my brother, after all. If you had heard some of the
things Waterstone has said to me, you would not be so concerned.
He’s yelled at me. He’s threatened me. He fought with me. He even
told me at one stage that he didn’t respect me as much as he respected
woodfolk.”
Still, the woodman did not reply.
Tarkyn sighed. “I may be an arrogant bastard. Autumn Leaves
certainly thinks I am.” He watched with amusement as the woodman’s
eyes widened. “In fact, I know I am, some of the time. But that doesn’t
mean I want, or expect to hold you at arm’s length.”
Ancient Oak frowned. “But you are so dismissive of all those people
down there, people who are my friends and kin.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, a week ago I offered to die for those people.
I do care about them. But while they are heated up like that and arguing,
most of them have forgotten that I even exist as a person. They are only
thinking of me in my role and what they want from me.” The prince
leaned forward. “You learn over the years, when you are always at the
centre of attention, that no matter what you do, there will be someone
who doesn’t like it. I’m not going to throw myself into an argument I
can’t win.”
Ancient Oak looked a little as though he was thawing but said nothing
further.
Tarkyn smiled ruefully at his new brother. “Feel free to pull me up any
time you see me getting too arrogant or dismissive but, if you can help it,
please don’t withdraw from me or reject me. I’m not all bad.”
At this, Ancient Oak raised his head and finally held Tarkyn’s gaze. “I
don’t suppose anyone is all bad. And, to be fair, there isn’t much that’s
bad about you…volatile, arrogant, excessively powerful, dismissive,
thoughtless…” His mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile.
“Oh come on. Be fair. I’m not usually thoughtless. Actually, if I am, I
wouldn’t notice, would I?”
Before Tarkyn had time to wander off down this particular tangent,
Ancient Oak added, “…but Waterstone thinks the sun shines out of you
and he does not give praise lightly.”
“Does he?” Tarkyn smiled. “Well, I can tell you the feeling is mutual.
If I get on with you half as well, that will be good enough…and I hope
to do better than that. Waterstone and Autumn Leaves tell me regularly
that I am hard work to be around. So, welcome to a challenge.” Seeing
Ancient Oak’s frown, he added, “It’s not always because of me. It’s often
because of who I am and how other people react…well, admittedly... and
how I react.”
“Like today, for instance.”
The prince nodded, “Shall we go back and face the music?”
“If you’re ready. Do you want a hand down?”
Tarkyn laughed. “You have missed a lot, haven’t you? I was going to
ask you the same question. Tell you what. I’ll race you to the bottom.
First to touch the ground, wins. …Go”
The sorcerer sailed out and down while Ancient Oak swung swiftly
down from branch to branch and jumped the last six feet.
“Blast!” laughed Tarkyn. “You were miles quicker. It took me much
less effort but I don’t seem to be able to go quickly.”
“You cheated.” Ancient Oak was also laughing between catching his
breath.
“No I didn’t. I didn’t say how we had to get down. I just said I’d race
you.”
They walked back along the stream. When they had nearly reached the
clearing, Tarkyn stopped. “One more thing. This might sound silly but I
give you permission to hit me.”
Ancient Oak looked at him in confusion. “Why would I want to hit
you?”
“Well,” said Tarkyn airily, “Waterstone is always wanting to hit me
and it is bad for the forest if I don’t give my permission. So it’s only fair
that I give it to you too. Then if I drive you crazy, you have a more even
playing field.”
Ancient Oak shook his head in bemusement. “You’re right. I have
missed a lot.”
ollowing Tarkyn’s exit, feelings ran high amongst the woodfolk.
One strong camp argued against heeding anything Tarkyn said,
wary of anyone usurping the natural authority of the woodfolk.
Another more canny camp saw him as a new weapon to humour and use,
as they saw fit, without allowing him into any mental discussion about
their proposed tactics. When Waterstone and Autumn Leaves attempted
to explain that Tarkyn would now insist on being included, they were
regarded pityingly by many of the oathfree woodfolk and it was carefully
explained to them that it was the welfare of the woodfolk as a whole, not
Tarkyn, that was under consideration and that Tarkyn could not force
them to include him if they chose not to.
“I don’t know about that,” growled Raging Water. “If he is a woodman,
he must be included like everyone else. You can’t have one rule for him
and one for the rest of us.”
“We can, if he can’t mind talk,” answered a rather unpleasant woodman
from the mountains. “Or are you thinking that we should all change our
way of life just to suit him? I am Driving Rain, for those who don’t know
me.”
“We must at least keep him informed of the important issues, as they
arise,” rumbled Thunder Storm.
Driving Rain sneered, “You have to stand up for him, don’t you? You’re
sworn to honour him. Well, I’m not, and he’ll get no special privileges
from me.”
In fact, the opinions of those who had taken the oath were generally
regarded as being tainted by compulsion, and so were given little
credibility. And those who had stayed with Tarkyn were regarded almost
as traitors by some woodfolk for having done more than the bare necessity
required to fulfil their oath.