The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (18 page)

“It wasn’t Raging Water’s fault,” said Tarkyn gently.

“No.” Falling Branch shrugged. “Anyway, he was right. We are all one people and we should never have left only some of us to bear the burden of fulfilling the oath.”

“Waterstone did say that it had virtually created a class system of oathbound and oathfree; that they were made to feel like second class citizens, particularly the home guard who in fact showed the greatest courage and bore the greatest burden on behalf of all woodfolk.” Although Tarkyn words sounded objective, he was beginning to withdraw into himself. He stood up and dusted down his hands, saying briskly, “So. Now the burden can be shared among many and you can all commiserate with each other on an equal footing. Although I didn’t design this new development, I think it will be better for the unity of the woodfolk. But I know it will be difficult for those such as you who must come to terms with losing their autonomy.” He gave a wistful smile. “I think you’ll find Waterstone and Rainstorm and the others waiting to talk to you, if you want them. I’ll leave you all to it for a while.”

Tarkyn turned to walk away but Falling Branch placed a restraining hand on his arm.

“Tarkyn, I will go to them because I need to talk it through, but it will not be a diatribe against you.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And thanks for talking to me about it like this. I’ve seen you upset before and I know you are now.” He shrugged. “I guess we both have realities to accept that we don’t particularly like.”

Tarkyn stared at the woodman for a moment. “You people amaze me. If this were the other way around, I would be gloating over any distress my oppressor was feeling.”

Falling Branch gave a short laugh. “But if you were truly an oppressor, so would I.”

Suddenly Tarkyn’s eyes twinkled, “You know, if this were Tormadell and you were a sorcerer, this would be the proudest day of your life, coming into service with me.” His smile faded a little, “But of course it’s not and you’re not. And I am sorry that you have been forced into it.” Unconsciously, he drew himself upright, “But if it’s any consolation, I feel proud to be a woodman and proud that you are my liegeman.”

Falling Branch smiled and shook his head. “To be described as anybody’s liegeman is no consolation at all but it does matter that you are proud to be one of us.” He gave Tarkyn a little push. “Go on. Go and find Danton and talk to him about us while I go and talk to Waterstone and Rainstorm about you.”

Tarkyn laughed, “I don’t know that I want to give Danton so much fuel for his fire.”

“You can manage him. Go on. He needs you to need him.” So saying, Falling Branch turned on his heel and walked off, leaving a thoughtful sorcerer prince in his wake.

Chapter
14

Tarkyn procured some wine and a couple of goblets before setting off to find Danton. He found the guardsman sleeping a little way off, his head on his pack and his soft brown woodfolk cloak wrapped around him. As Tarkyn approached, Danton’s eyes flicked open and in one swift movement, he rolled up into a crouching position, knife in hand. When he saw who it was, he relaxed and his face lit up in welcome.

“Good evening, Danton,” said Tarkyn dryly. “Good to see your reflexes are still working well. I’m sorry I startled you.”

Danton waved a dismissive hand, realised he still held the knife in it and sheathed it before giving a slight bow and saying. “I beg your pardon for my poor welcome, my lord.”

Tarkyn smiled disarmingly. “I’ll make sure I make a lot of noise from a distance next time I approach you.” He looked Danton up and down, “The woodfolk clothing suits you. It highlights the purple of your eyes and your blonde hair.”

“Thank you, Sire. We aim to please.” Danton sketched an ironic bow.

Although Tarkyn realised Danton had been trying to get some sleep, he didn’t even consider offering to come back at a more convenient time. He knew Danton would never contemplate placing his own needs above the prince’s. Instead Tarkyn sat down against a convenient log and placing the two goblets on the ground asked, “Will you join me in a drink before we settle?”

“It would be my pleasure, Sire.” Danton sat down next to the prince and accepted a goblet of wine. He glanced sideways and smiled, “And I don’t have to risk Waterstone’s disapproval by reporting our activities back to anyone…” he let his eyes rove around the surrounding trees and shook his head slightly when he saw no sign of woodfolk, “although I’m sure we are being monitored.”

Tarkyn smiled. “They are uncannily clever at camouflage, aren’t they? You’ll never see them if they don’t want you to.” Tarkyn took a sip of wine and sat quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of the forest; birds chirruping as they settled for the night, the evening breeze whispering through the trees, stirring the sparse golden and brown leaves and somewhere nearby, the rustle of some creature pushing through a tangle of brushwood. “Hear that? That’s a stubborn old badger who is becoming incautious in his old age and has just shoved his way through a thicket instead of sneaking around it.”

Danton looked at the man sitting next to him, “You’re not guessing, are you?”

“Me? Oh no.” Tarkyn gazed into his wine while he let his thoughts wander out into the surrounding woodlands. A gentle smile appeared on his face as he said, “We are surrounded by little creatures bustling through the undergrowth. There’s a large owl a few trees away who has just woken up and is deciding which way to go to hunt. Most of the smaller birds are feeling drowsy and have returned to their nesting places ready to sleep. That badger is still grumpy and has just given a younger one a telling off on the way past.” He pulled his mind back in. “But enough of their lives. Let’s talk about our own. How are you doing, my friend? Do you like living in the woodlands? Have you found people you can feel comfortable with among the woodfolk? Or are you missing home?”

“Amazing.” Danton shook his head slightly, “So, to answer your question. The woodlands are cold, damp and inconvenient and there are no servants to iron our clothes and bring our wine. On the other hand, these clothes wouldn’t really profit from being ironed. The delicacies prepared by the royal chefs have been replaced by more basic but probably fresher fare. There are no women stalking around us in their brightly coloured gowns and dazzling jewellery, watching us from beneath long, carefully curled lashes and smiling at us with rubied lips. The clusters of covert gossipers are notably lacking and the level of intrigue is disappointingly low.” Danton took a sip of wine and held up his goblet, “But their wine is excellent. And they have made me welcome in a way that I doubt that we would have made them welcome if they had appeared at court.” He shrugged, “I’m getting used to it. I actually find the woodlands quite beautiful and peaceful. It’s just that I’m not really a peaceful sort of person.”

“You could hardly call the last few days peaceful.”

Danton gave a grunt of laughter. “No, you couldn’t. But in the forest, there is always the threat of things becoming too peaceful.” He frowned slightly, “Why do you ask? Are you thinking of sending me away?”

“No, Danton.” Tarkyn looked at him in concern, “Have I been so remiss in my care of you that I cannot ask after your welfare without another purpose?”

“No, my lord,” replied Danton, too quickly to be convincing.

Tarkyn waited.

After a moment Danton shrugged, “You have been very busy and everything you do has had a purpose. I have not spoken to you alone for days. So I assumed you had a reason for coming to see me.”

Tarkyn considered his words carefully before replying, “You are right. I do have a purpose in coming to see you. I came to find you in search of a friend. But caring for your welfare is part of friendship, is it not?”

“I do not wish to sound churlish, sir, but why do you suddenly  seek out my friendship when you have Waterstone and all your  woodfolk friends?”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “Does my friendship with others preclude me from having a friendship with you?”

Danton raised his eyes and looked resolutely at Tarkyn, “I think you are working so hard to be a woodman that you don’t want to be identified with me, a fellow sorcerer. So, at the moment, yes, it does.”

Tarkyn stared back at him, anger flickering in his amber eyes before his innate honesty asserted itself. He let out a long sigh. “Oh Danton, I’m sorry. And the only real contact I’ve had with you in the last few days is to pass judgement on your behaviour with Waterstone.” He spread his hands, spilling a bit of his wine as he did so, “Well, I am here now and I have come to you particularly because you are a sorcerer and can understand where I have come from, in a way that no one else can.”

“Is that so? And when this particular issue is past…” Danton waved a hand, “No, never mind. I am happy to help when I can. I will always be here when you need me.”

Tarkyn shook his head. “No Danton. Not ‘never mind’. It is not someone I wish to be; a person who uses their friends only when they need them.” The prince thought for a moment, “I think you too have been careful not to present us as a united front against the woodfolk. You have kept away from me and seated yourself elsewhere around the firesite. I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“No, but equally you didn’t call me over to join you.” Danton shrugged, “Anyway, you’re right. I didn’t want an ‘us and them’ situation to develop. So I have tried to blend in and become one of the crowd.”

Tarkyn smiled his appreciation. “You are a strategic courtier, aren’t you, attuned to the requirements of diplomacy?”

“Yes and no. I don’t seem to be very good at matching my expectations to those of the woodfolk. Waterstone informed me that my behaviour towards you is sometimes a source of amusement among woodfolk.”

“I did warn you. That’s why I suggested you leave behind the protocols of court.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t had a lifetime of being under threat of punishment for any step out of line. It doesn’t feel right… and anyway, unlike this ungrateful lot, I do wish to honour you as you deserve.” Danton glanced around the surrounding trees and frowned, “You realise someone is probably listening to all of this?”

“Hmm. Just a minute.” Tarkyn’s mind scanned the area and tuned into two hidden woodfolk, nearby but at a discreet distance. “No, it’s safe to talk openly. Creaking Bough and Rustling Leaves are close but not too close.” The prince picked up the thread of their conversation, “The woodfolk are not ungrateful but equally they do not accept differences in rank. So my presence among them is uncomfortable for them.”

Danton glanced at the prince, “They’re a bloody arrogant lot, you know. When I asked Waterstone what gave him the right to warn me about my behaviour around you, he said it was because he was a woodman, when all along he should have told me that he’s a prince by right of being your blood brother. He thinks being a woodman matters more than being  a prince.”

Tarkyn laughed, “Of course he does. He doesn’t believe in princes. None of them does. And he carefully didn’t use your values instead of his own, just to gain the upper hand.”

“Hmph. And I’ve never met a bunch of commoners before who were so confident and blasé about speaking to members of the nobility.”

“Oh my stars!” Tarkyn shook his head. “Danton, get it out of your head that they are commoners. It doesn’t work like that here. All of them consider themelves to be equally at the top of their social hierarchy. You heard what Waterstone said. They only acknowledge me as their prince because of the oath. They wouldn’t otherwise. They all consider themselves to be my equal….and your equal.”

Danton was so agitated that he shot to his feet, slopping his wine, and began to pace back and forth. “I can’t help it. I find that absolutely outrageous. How dare they?”

“They dare because they respect people only on merit not on the basis of protocol. They couldn’t care less about your title. And they wouldn’t want it even if you gave it to them.”

Danton stood over Tarkyn staring down at him. Suddenly he realised what he was doing and hastily moved back with a muttered apology.

Tarkyn waved his hand, “Think nothing of it. The woodfolk do it all the time. Come on. Sit down again and calm down.”

Danton reluctantly lowered himself down next to the prince and took a long breath.

“Now Danton, if you are to give me any support over the next few difficult days, you will have to accept, as I do, woodfolk as they are, not as you would like them to be.”

Danton turned his head to look at Tarkyn, “What will be difficult about the new few days?”

Tarkyn ignored his question and persisted, “Danton, can you do that?”

Danton shook his head slowly, “To be honest, I will struggle. I have spent my life protecting your consequence. But if you wish it, I will try.”

“Perhaps if you think of them all as nobility, that may make it easier.”

“Without the graces, you mean?” said Danton acerbically.

“Do graces create the rank?”

“No, but they usually come with it.”

Tarkyn shrugged, “Woodfolk have their own graces. They are kind, honest and perceptive. They accept who you are and if you earn it, they will respect you. They have as strong a sense of their own consequence as any noble in the land. They just don’t express it in the same way.”

“You really like them, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, I most certainly do. They look me in the eye and see who I, the man, am. And they tell me hard truths when they need to be said.” Tarkyn paused and looked at Danton, “You’ve been doing a bit of that yourself lately. You are more forthright in your comments to me than you ever were in the past. Why is that, do you suppose?”