Bronze Magic (Book 1) (49 page)

“Something like that. Well, you could just order me to help you.”
“What? And risk the forest’s welfare while you try to find ways to
undermine me?” The prince shook his head. “You can’t just order
resentment to go away. If you could, I would have done it long ago.”
“So, do none of the woodfolk with you feel at all resentful at having to
serve you? I find that hard to believe.”
Tarkyn put his head on one side as he considered. He gave a Sparrow
a little push in the ribs and asked, “What do you think, young madam?
Do people still resent me?”
Sparrow looked up and frowned, “What do you mean? Do they get
mad at you? Only sometimes.”
Tarkyn smiled. “That wasn’t quite what I meant, but it will do.”
He looked up at the woodman. “Sometimes the resentment wells up.
Waterstone and I came to blows over it the other day.” Tarkyn ignored
the shocked incomprehension on the woodman’s face. “Mostly, we’re
all right. It’s not easy, but it can be better than what I see amongst the
harvesters and gatherers. And, if you ask them, I think you’ll find that my
little group would rather have me than not, now.”
Sparrow nodded her confirmation of this.
“In fact, I think they’re even quite proud of me now that we’ve worked
out I’m a guardian of the forest.”
Sparrow nodded even more vigorously. “Although he didn’t look too
good when he was green.”
Running Feet frowned in consternation as Sparrow sent him an image
of the green Tarkyn.
Tarkyn laughed at his expression. “Not a good look, was it? That was
the healing force of an old oak tree. I think I might have overdone it a bit.
Still, as you can see, it faded over time.”
Running Feet blinked as he took all this in. He was silent for a couple
of minutes, then finally said, “Very well. I am prepared to help, now that
I understand why it is important. What do I need to do?”
The prince thought carefully. “Update your people on what has been
happening since I arrived in the forest. Talk to the forestals and the home
guard and give them a fair hearing. I promise you I haven’t ordered them
to say anything in particular.”
Running Feet looked puzzled. “Who are the home guard?”
Tarkyn glanced at him. “Now, this is not for public consumption, but
that is what I privately call the people who have stuck by me.”
“Do they know this?”
“Yes. I let it slip out yesterday by mistake. They all went into deep
shock but they are gradually recovering.” Tarkyn laughed at the look of
consternation on Running Feet’s face. “No, they didn’t. They don’t mind.
In fact, Ancient Oak and Rainstorm have aspirations of joining.”
Running Feet shook his head a little as he dealt with one impression
after another from the prince. He gave a slight smile and said ruefully,
“Even if I do update everyone, I suspect there will always be some
resentment, my lord.”
Tarkyn gave a bitter laugh, “I’m sure there will be. Woodfolk such as
Sun Shower know all that has happened, aren’t even under oath and still
resent my subtle leadership style. So it’s not going to cure anything. It just
might make it a little more manageable.”
“So, from your point of view, what has happened since we left you?”
Tarkyn acknowledged the woodman’s subtly expressed scepticism
with a slight smile before sketching out events since he had regained
consciousness; repairing the forest, his discussions about etiquette
with Waterstone and Autumn Leaves, the run-ins with the wolves and
horsemen, their efforts to disguise the wolves’ fates, the discovery that
he was the forest guardian, his fight with Waterstone and the subsequent
healing.
When he came to more recent events, Tarkyn leaned over his niece and
frowned at her. “Sparrow, block your ears and hum loudly.” When he was
sure she couldn’t hear him, he continued, “And I gather from Ancient
Oak that you have all been talking about my initial meeting with the
forestals?”
“Yes, Sire. I believe they came close to killing you.”
“I gave them that choice,” said Tarkyn matter-of-factly. His mouth
twitched in a half smile. “They thought hard about it and there were a
few arrows flying around for a while there. But it was a risk I had to take.
I could not allow the possibility of oathbound woodfolk having to fight
other woodfolk to protect me.” He shrugged. “And in the end, woodfolk
honour prevented them from killing me to free you from the oath.”
Running Feet considered him. “Offering your life was an enormous
gesture for a people you hardly knew.”
“Noblesse oblige, Running Feet,” said the prince lightly, although
he clearly meant it.“I’m glad it remained only a gesture, though. The
outcome was by no means certain, I can tell you.” He looked levelly at
Running Feet. “What’s more, I did it in all good faith and it would be
nice if it made a difference. Now, we seem to have swapped one rift for
another.”
At this point, the sound of humming increased significantly in volume.
“Whoops. Sorry, Sparrow,” Tarkyn pulled her hands way from her ears.
“I said, ‘Sorry Sparrow’. You can stop now.” He looked up at Running
Feet with a smile. “End of discussion for the moment, I think.”
By mid morning the rain had still not relented. Damp patches were
beginning to show on the ceiling of Tarkyn’s shelter but it had so far held.
It was so dark outside that it was hard to believe it was nearly midday.
Running Feet and Sparrow had explored all the possible routes on their
dusty map, with Tarkyn taking an intermittent interest. Suddenly,
Sparrow raised her head and looked intently at Tarkyn.
“Daddy needs to talk to you.” she said. She went out of focus for a
couple of minutes then reported, “Stormaway is with him. He is saying
that this storm is not natural.”
The prince frowned. “Oh no. I hope it’s not from the oath. Ask your
dad to talk straight to Running Feet, could you?” He flicked a glance at
the woodman to check that this arrangement was all right and received
a brief nod.
“Why not me?” asked Sparrow, much put out.
“Because it’s grown up’s business. They may need to use big words you
won’t know. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Okay?”
Sparrow narrowed her eyes at him but complied with his request.
Shortly afterwards, Running Feet also went out of focus. After a while,
the prince said, “Stop gossiping about me and keep to the point.”
Running Feet flicked back into focus. “If you can’t mind talk, how did
you know we were?”
Tarkyn smiled, “Stands to reason. Waterstone wanted to know what
you’re doing in my shelter and what you thought of being stuck with me
after our last little encounter. Once he has that all sorted out, he’ll know
how far to trust you with relaying messages to me….Correct?”
Running Feet smiled in return. “Correct.”
“So. What is Stormaway saying about this storm? Is it a backlash from
someone undermining me?”
The woodman shook his head. “He doesn’t think it has anything to do
with the oath. He thinks someone might be trying to flood us out. The
stream is rising. It’s nearly up to the top of its banks already.”
“Who can create a storm like this? And how on earth do they know we
are here?” Tarkyn nodded at him impatiently. “Go on. Ask them.”
Running Feet returned to focus very quickly this time.
“Well?”
A slight frown of annoyance appeared on Running Feet’s face as he
answered shortly. “Waterstone will get back to me when he has talked
about it with Stormaway.”
The prince took one look at the woodman’s taut face and sighed.
“Sorry. Please tell me if I annoy you. It’s much better to sort it out than
having you going off to tell everyone what a tyrant I am. I’m just worried.
And when I get tense, I have a tendency to cut corners and become
peremptory.”
Running Feet’s face relaxed. “It must be frustrating needing a translator
for the mind talking.”
“It is.”
This conversation was curtailed as Running Feet was pressed to reply
to Waterstone. After a short mind-discussion, the woodman reported
back to the prince, “A wizard can drum up this sort of weather, according
to Stormaway, though he would need time to create enough power.”
“Hmph, when you think about Stormaway’s name, it’s pretty obvious
really,” said Tarkyn. “So, can Stormaway counter this other wizard’s spell?”
“He says he may be able to but he will need more power if he is do to
it quickly enough to stop flooding. He wants you to help him.”
“Of course I will. But before we organise that, what about the second
question? That’s even more important. How do they know we’re here?”
Running Feet shook his head. “Stormaway doesn’t think anyone does
know we’re here. He thinks the storm is more general than that and that
someone is possibly trying to herd us up onto higher ground…”
“….where presumably sorcerers and wolves will be waiting.” The
prince said nothing for a few minutes while he collected his thoughts.
Then he turned to Running Feet.
“Speak to Stormaway and Waterstone. Ask for their opinions on what
we should do”
After Running Feet had reported back, Tarkyn said, “I’m afraid I’m
going to have to make sure a few things are put in place before I help
Stormaway.” He gave a wry smile. “That is a euphemism for issuing
orders, in case you hadn’t worked it out. I remember a captain of the
guards once said to me, the more critical the situation, the more directive
you must be.”
“See,” said a shaky little voice. “More bossy than me.”
“Oh Sparrow, come here.” Immediately she climbed up onto Tarkyn’s
lap and he wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t be frightened. We will
sort it out. Stormaway and I will do lots of interesting magic and make
the storm go away. Now, you just snuggle up quietly while I boss everyone
around. How’s that?”
Sparrow just nodded and pressed herself against his chest.
Tarkyn stroked her hair and made sure she was settled before looking
at Running Feet. “You’re in the unlucky position of being the messenger.
Ready?” When the woodman nodded, Tarkyn said, “Right. Tell
everyone I am speaking as the guardian of the forest and I need their full
cooperation. Tell them what Waterstone and Stormaway have worked
out about the storm.”
Tarkyn waited until Running Feet indicated he had done this, and
then continued, “We must make sure we have an escape route from the
rising water that does not take us where they expect us. In other words,
we’ll need to evacuate downhill somewhere, perhaps up into trees. I don’t
know. I’ll leave that to local knowledge to sort out. If it means we have to
leave sooner, then we will.”
Tarkyn waited with raised eyebrows until Running Feet nodded. “I
have only just realised that you don’t all keep in contact with each other
using mind talk as a matter of course. So we need an inventory of all
woodfolk everywhere. Do we know where everyone is? It is my fear that
these hunters have captured some woodfolk somehow. It is the only
explanation that fits the facts. Who is missing? Are there some people
too far away to contact? We need to make sure everyone is accounted for
and contactable, not just those who have come here.” The prince paused
again. He waved a hand. “Don’t transmit this bit. How are we going? Do
we have a mass rebellion yet?”
Running Feet gave a reluctant smile and shook his head. “They haven’t
had time to organise it yet because they can’t get a word in edgeways.”
“Good. I’ll keep going before they do. Ready?” At the woodman’s
nod, he began again. “We will need to mount a rescue mission. If
they have captured some woodfolk, they are probably being held at
that encampment. So start talking to the people who have seen the
encampment and start thinking about how a rescue can be undertaken.
That’s it from your friendly neighbourhood tyrant for today.” Running
Feet looked queringly at this, but Tarkyn smiled and nodded to send it.
“I will be working with Stormaway for the next little while if anyone
wants me.”
The prince grinned, “Well, that should give everyone something to
think about and complain about, to while away a few damp hours stuck
inside.”
A little voice issued from the region of Tarkyn’s chest. “I think you’re
getting bossier.”
Tarkyn laughed. “I think you’re right. All my good intentions in
tatters again, hey, little one?” He looked across at Running Feet. “Thank
you for doing that. If you get any backlash at all from it, I want to know
about it.”
“Is that another order?”
The prince grimaced, “Yes, I’m afraid so. If I make it an order, you
don’t have to debate whether to tell me or not. You just do it. Then
no-one can blame you for informing on them.” Tarkyn regarded him
quizzically. “So, I suppose I’m back in your bad books now? You may
find this hard to believe but I have generally avoided giving anyone direct
orders until this crisis.”
Running Feet raised his eyebrows. “It doesn’t really matter what I
think, does it, my lord?”
Tarkyn frowned, “Do you say that because you think little of yourself,
or little of me?”
“I’m saying it because I assume you think little of me.”
“Because of what I did to you before?” Tarkyn’s mouth twisted
in a rueful smile. “I know I treated you with great disdain at our first
encounter, but I didn’t know you or anyone else then…And I felt trapped
and angry. Now I’ve had a chance to get to know you, I do care about
your opinion. In fact, I would have sought you out to make reparation
but you chose, quite understandably, to stay away from me. To tell you
the truth, I am quite anxious to have your good opinion because I feel
guilty about what I did to you.”
Running Feet have his head a little shake, a queer smile playing
around his lips. “Then, for what it is worth, I still think you throw your
weight around but you do it in support of woodfolk, not for yourself.
And although I will probably still keep having nightmares about being
dropped from great heights, I could not have spent these hours with you
without changing my opinion of you. You are not the haughty tyrant
I was anticipating. Despite my expectations, I find I like you but I’m
not surprised everyone talks about you all the time. You are quite an
amazing person. You take responsibility for everyone and see everything
so clearly.”