Bronze Magic (Book 1) (75 page)

He experienced a rushing, nauseating sensation, then a slowing down
and a hesitation. For a moment, it felt as though his travel pushed at a
soft barrier that gave way but then cushioned him to a gentle landing at
the other end. Tarkyn opened his eyes and found himself lying on his side
inside the now familiar tent. He drew a couple of steadying breaths, sat
up and looked around.He spotted the mouse cowering behind a pile of
clothes in the corner. Tarkyn sent out a wave of reassurance. He listened
carefully. He couldn’t hear any movement outside. Perhaps they have all
chased off after the horses. He regained contact with the mouse and asked
it to go out under the side of the tent to see what lay beyond. Tarkyn was
not planning to risk his safety any more than he felt was necessary.
Once outside, the mouse snuffled about and soon picked up the scent
of horse dung. Oh no! Not again, thought Tarkyn.He sent it an urgent
message to keep looking around.
It’s very quiet out here. Over there are a lot of nasty big animals but they
are sleeping too. Wait! Someone nearby. People in that tent over there. No one
else is out here. There are a few mounds of lovely dung over here though. Nice
and warm.
Tarkyn pulled out quickly. He took a deep breath, carefully raised the
side of the tent and slithered out beneath it. He brought his feet up
under himself and waited, crouching low while he gained his bearings
and located the source of the voices.
He crept to the outside of the tent and listened.
“I think he’s coming around again,” said a voice that Tarkyn recognised
as Sargon’s.
“Well, who’s going to hit him this time? You or me?”
“Are you sure he’s really there? I’ve never seen anyone like him before.”
“Of course he’s there, you idiot. We can both see him.”
“We could talk to him…Find out who he is...what he is?”
“I don’t think so. We need to sober up a bit first. He might trick us.
Who knows what magic he has up his sleeve.”
Tarkyn sent forth a wave of hope and friendship, with a gesture
indicating silence. A fuzzy image of the two bounty hunters came back
to him. They were standing over the woodman, with their backs to the
door. Tarkyn didn’t hesitate. In two sure strides, he entered the tent and
incanted “
Shturrum”
before either of them could look around. Then he
grabbed their heads and bashed them together with a resounding crunch.
Sargon and Andoran fell senseless to the ground.
Tarkyn stepped over them and knelt down next to the woodman, “Oh
my stars! Autumn Leaves! What have they done to you?”
Autumn Leaves’ face was covered with blood and his nose was on a
sickening angle. He shook his head groggily. “I don’t know. Just hit me, I
think. I feel sick. I think my nose is broken.” He frowned vaguely. “What
are you doing here? Are we back in the woods?”
“Shh. No. We’re not. But we will be soon.” Seeing Autumn Leaves
frown deepen, Tarkyn said hastily, “Don’t worry. We’re leaving now.”
He lifted Autumn Leaves up gently and set him down on his feet.
“Can you walk?” The woodman collapsed as soon as Tarkyn slackened
his grip. Tarkyn lowered him carefully back down. “No. Clearly not.
Wait. I’ll check outside.” Tarkyn tuned back in with the mouse to find
himself surrounded by a soft smelly warmth. Overcoming his distaste,
Tarkyn persevered and after an initial reluctance, the little mouse goodnaturedly ventured back out into the cold to look around. Nothing
was moving. Tarkyn sat down with the woodman leaning against him
“Okay, Autumn Leaves. Think about my hands holding you. I’m going
to send some strength and healing through them into you. Just relax
and accept the power.”
But Autumn Leaves was too befuddled to concentrate. After a few
unsuccessful attempts, Tarkyn sent his own mind out along his arms
and into the woodman’s body. He fed energy into the bruising around
Autumn Leaves’ temple and soothed the knots out of overstressed
muscles. He didn’t repair the nose because it needed to be set straight but
he shored up the damage enough to enable Autumn Leaves to withstand
the pain and to regain his senses.
Tarkyn’s mind came back out of Autumn Leaves’ body just as Sargon
groaned and began to sit up. Without a moment’s thought, Tarkyn
backhanded Sargon hard across the head with the full force of his arm
and shoulder, slamming him back down onto the ground. He stood up
and assisted the woodman to rise
“How’s that? Can you manage now?” he asked gently.
Autumn Leaves glared at him through his one open eye. “What are
you doing here? You’re supposed to be staying safely inside the forest.”
“I would have thought that was obvious. I’m rescuing you.” Tarkyn put
his arm around the woodman’s waist. “Let’s argue about the rest later.”
Tarkyn poked his head out the door of the tent and, after checking
for any signs of life, supported the woodman towards the perimeter of
the encampment. “Can you do your flick thing?” he asked in a whisper.
Autumn Leaves smiled faintly in the gloom. “Not yet. We need to be
closer to the woods. I should be able to do it when we’re about halfway
to the trees. What about the guards?”
Tarkyn shook his head, “I don’t know. Could be a problem. They have
probably all woken up by now and I bet not all of them chased after the
horses.”
“Stars above Tarkyn! What are you thinking? Don’t you have a plan?
What if someone sees you?”
“Don’t worry. I’m safe. It’s just you we have to worry about.” Tarkyn
glanced down at the woodman and frowned, “Do you think you
can run?”
Just then they heard the sound of solid footsteps and a pair of guards
walked into sight along the edge of the encampment not twenty yards
from them. Tarkyn and Autumn Leaves pressed into the shadow of the
woodfolk’s tent and held their breaths.
“It’s a bloody strange thing,” growled one of the guards. “It must be
some clever sorcerer to be able to knock them all out at once like that.”
“I don’t understand why they didn’t see anyone.”
Tarkyn peered out from the shadow, waved a hand and intoned
Shturrum softly. The two guards froze but were faced half towards Tarkyn
and Autumn Leaves.
“Blast!” exclaimed Tarkyn quietly. “We can’t go out there. They’ll see
us and be able to report back after we’re gone.” He looked back over his
shoulder. “Come on. We’ll have to skirt back around the other side of
the tent.”
They crept back around to the front of the tent. But as soon as they
touched the canvas near the door, the magic ward lit up and set up a loud
warning wail.
The sounds of running footsteps closed in from all sides. “Sorry
Autumn Leaves. Nothing for it now.” Tarkyn clasped the woodman close
with one arm, thrust his other hand into his pocket and grasped the spray
of berries. “
Maya Mureva Araya! Ka Mureva Araya!
” he intoned urgently.
Tarkyn felt himself dragged backwards at speed but his arm felt as if
it was trying to lift a ton weight. He clenched hard with every fibre of
his strength, his biceps screaming with the strain. He could feel himself
sweating and the bile rising in his throat. He held on grimly. He felt as
though he was being torn apart at his shoulder. Tarkyn reached deep
inside and brought his whole being together to focus his strength on his
straining arm. With a strange sensation like being dragged out of thick
mud, Tarkyn and his burden suddenly came free and were catapulted
onto the floor of the forest to land sprawled at the feet of Rainstorm and
the other woodmen.
Tarkyn lay there gasping, too tired to move. He found himself
looking up into the anxious faces of the four woodmen who were meant
to be protecting him. Others were gathered in the background. He
could see Rainstorm smiling in relief and a wrathful frown gathering on
Thunder Storm’s face. Ignoring them all, Tarkyn rolled over and looked
down at the bloody woodman who lay pale and unconscious on his
outstretched arm.
“Find Summer Rain. Get her here fast,” he ordered. Tarkyn closed his
eyes and placed his other hand on Autumn Leaves’ chest. Realising he
was still clutching the berries, Tarkyn threw them away and replaced his
open palm on Autumn Leaves. He focused his mind through his arm into
the woodman. With relief, he felt Autumn Leaves’ heart beating slowly
but strongly. He drew on his own diminished strength and let it flow into
the injured woodman. After several agonising moments, Autumn Leaves
stirred and opened his eyes. One eye was swollen nearly shut and the
other was bleary and unfocused. Slowly, as Tarkyn’s strength flowed into
him, the woodman became aware of his surroundings and smiled rather
muzzily up at the four woodmen leaning over them.
“I feel sick,” Autumn Leaves pronounced slowly, “And my face hurts.
But I am so glad to see you all.” He let his eyes travel slowly across the
branches above him before bringing his eyes around to stare up into
Tarkyn’s face. He gave a faint smile. “You brought us back to the forest.”
He frowned vaguely, “I think you’d better save some strength for yourself.
That flow is feeling very wavery.”
Tarkyn nodded and fell back weakly onto the ground beside him, his
arm still stretched beneath the woodman.
“He needs a tree,” said Thunder Storm shortly. “Come on. Help me
pick them up and move them over to that big oak.”
Running Feet, North Wind and Rainstorm looked puzzled, but
nevertheless followed Thunder Storm’s instruction without question.
“Now place Tarkyn’s palm against the tree’s trunk.”
“Thanks,” murmured Tarkyn. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes,
lifted his head and twinkled up at them, “So that was interesting. I think
that might be an all-time first for sorcery; translocating two people with
one spell.” He let his head drop down again. “Takes it out of you, though.”
He looked at Thunder Storm whose face seemed to oscillate between
concern and anger. Tarkyn sent up a wave of reassurance that did little to
reconcile the angry woodman. He closed his eyes again. “Thunder Storm.
Go off and be angry somewhere else. I can’t deal with it at the moment.
Save it up and hit me with it later when I’m feeling stronger. I need my
strength now to help Autumn Leaves.” A fretful frown appeared on his
face. “Where’s Summer Rain?”
“She is on her way, Your Highness,” replied Running Feet. “She was
stationed near the edge of the woods close to the encampment in case
there were any injuries. So she has some distance to cover. All those who
did not ride should be returning here shortly.”
The prince roused himself, opened his eyes and snapped impatiently,
“Don’t wait for them. Do a head count now. I don’t want to find that
anyone else is missing.”
Running Feet raised his eyebrows at Tarkyn’s tone, “Yes, my lord.” He
glanced at Thunder Storm and moved quickly away to concentrate on
sending out the message.
Before long, the clearing began to fill with returning woodfolk. The
air was full of excitement and success. But gradually, as they realised that
Autumn Leaves lay injured up under the oak, the sound of voices became
more subdued. Once Running Feet had returned with Summer Rain,
Tarkyn extricated himself from beneath Autumn Leaves and sat up.
“I have done the best I could, Summer Rain. You will need to set his
nose and check him for other injuries. Let me know if you need more
healing power.” He looked down at Autumn Leaves, “I’ll leave you to
Summer Rain for a while. Is that all right? I’ll be back soon.”
Tarkyn wandered down the slope to find Thunder Storm amongst
the throng. Not surprisingly, he found him deep in conversation with
Waterstone and Ancient Oak who had just arrived. Tarkyn squared his
shoulders and walked over to join them, Rainstorm and North Wind
bringing up the rear.
Taking one look at Waterstone’s thunderous expression, Tarkyn waved
a hand and said, “Before you get stuck into me, let me assure you I
had no plans to sacrifice myself or to do anything silly. I thought it out
beforehand and took precautions. The worst that could have happened
was that I came back alone.”
“We should have been there to protect you,” said Thunder Storm
shortly.
Tarkyn shrugged, “Since you are all so concerned for my safety,
I could not risk you refusing my orders and jeopardising the forest. I
hope you weren’t too angry with Rainstorm. He did not know about my
translocating, so he didn’t realise what he was helping me to do.” He gave
a little smile, “As it turns out, I did this better on my own, anyway.”
“You must not place yourself in danger like that again,” spluttered
Thunder Storm.
Tarkyn smiled faded and he raised a supercilious eyebrow. He spoke
with cutting formality, “I beg your pardon, Thunder Storm, but I am
not accustomed to taking orders. I have not been used to it and I have
no intention of starting now. I now realise that Stormaway was wrong
about the paradox. When I gave Waterstone permission to attack me,
that permission overrode your requirement to protect me and kept the
forest safe. My orders can override your vow to protect me. The paradox
only exists if you refuse to obey me.” He let his gaze travel around all the
woodmen surrounding him.“Now, I see two choices before you; either I
will simply go into danger without your knowledge when I feel the need,
or you guarantee to support my decisions so that I know the forest will
not be placed in jeopardy.”
There was a stony silence.
Tarkyn did not relent. With a glance at Waterstone, he continued,
“In return, I will undertake not to place myself in danger unnecessarily.
However, this has gone far enough. None of you may dictate my actions.
You may express your opinions and I may refrain from dictating to you,
if I so choose. But no one dictates to me.”
The silence continued.
Tarkyn looked around him, “May I remind you that I have a
responsibility to protect all of you, even as you must protect me?” He
shrugged and his voice lost its harsh edge. “But the oath had nothing to
do with this. I could not have left Autumn Leaves suffering at the hands
of Andoran and Sargon while there was something I could do about
it. Autumn Leaves is my friend and kinsman.” The prince ran his hand
through his hair. “I’m sorry if I have spoilt your celebrations. I did not
intend to be quite so emphatic.”