The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (32 page)

Waterstone smiled, “She was under strict instructions to call me for the slightest thing. Anyway, I’ve had enough sleep. Thunder Storm and Creaking Bough took over just after dawn.” He paused, “So, did you want me for anything specific?”

Tarkyn glanced at him, “Yes and no.” Then he gave a quick grin, “Hard to get a straight answer out of me, isn’t it?”

Waterstone raised his eyebrows, “Yes. I was just wondering how long it would take us to get to whatever point you’re aiming for.”

Tarkyn heaved a sigh, “There are many points I’m aiming for. I need your help to fix my injuries. I’m still on edge and jumping at shadows. And I can’t stand being around the mountainfolk after all their jeering yesterday.”

“So when I asked were you all right and you said ‘yes and no’, which bit is yes?”

Tarkyn shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess knowing I have all of you supporting and protecting me. I actually had a very funny time with Rainstorm, Thunder Storm and Danton before lunch. I don’t feel all bad.” He gave a wry smile, “I just need some repair work.”

They walked down past the site of the target practice and Tarkyn pointed out the shattered remains of the rocks and their significance on the way past. When they had rounded the next bend in the stream and were well away from the firesite and lookouts, they found a discreet, mossy hollow under a stand of gnarled old oaks whose roots were partly exposed and hanging entwined out over the stream. Soon after they had sat down, Sparrow arrived with Rain on Water, each carefully carrying a cup of steaming tea. Once she had handed over the tea, Sparrow produced some rolls and fruit from her pocket for her father and Rain on Water shyly offered some fruit to Tarkyn. After thanking them profusely, Watestone sent them back up to the firesite to play with the others, with a quick mindmessage to Thunder Storm to tell him they were coming.

“So let’s start with the obvious,” said Waterstone, as soon as they were gone. “You’re looking pretty grim and still haven’t been able to heal yourself, even though hopefully, you eventually felt safe in your shelter.”

Tarkyn glanced sideways at his friend, “Every time I focus on part of me that’s injured, the memory of being injured blasts back up at me and I lose focus.” Tarkyn shook his head, “It’s not just then, either. All night and even most of this morning, even when I’m talking to people, I’m constantly thinking about what happened.”

Waterstone didn’t say anything, but simply waited.

“Waterstone, have you ever had anything like that happen to you?” When the woodman shook his head, Tarkyn continued, “Of course you haven’t. The only people I can think of who would have endured something like that are condemned criminals on their way to execution. When I was attacked, the jeering of the crowd in the background was the least of my problems. But now! Now, I have to sit with those same people, and make polite conversation with them when I know yesterday they were revelling in my pain.” He shook his head, “Waterstone, I am trusting you as I have never trusted you before. Please don’t tell anyone how I’m feeling. The unity of the woodfolk is far more important than how I cope with the aftermath of yesterday. But I need you to help me, the private person, so that I, the political person, can support the woodfolk cause. Can you do that?”

Waterstone shook his head and smiled, “Tarkyn, you’re not thinking straight at all. To what advantage would it be for me to tell the world how you’re feeling? I too have woodfolk unity at heart. I would not wish to jeopardise it any more than you would.”

Tarkyn raised a hand and let it drop. “I don’t know. Maybe I was worried that you might go forth in some righteous rage and champion me against the mountainfolk.”

Waterstone smiled, “Is that what you want?”

Tarkyn grinned, “It has its attractions, I must say…. But no. I wouldn’t mind you sympathising with me, though, when no one else is around.” He put his head on one side and considered his friend; “I remember that soon after we met I made the assumption that your loyalties would always lie with woodfolk above your loyalty to me and you said in no uncertain terms not to make your decisions for you.” Tarkyn laughed, “You’re such a feisty bastard.” He became serious again, “I’m not asking you to support me against them. I’m just asking you not to tell them everything.”

“Stop worrying, Tarkyn. There is no conflict of interests here. You and I are on the same side and want the same things. I don’t share the contents of all my conversations with everyone. I pick and choose, just as you do. I won’t feel that I’m betraying woodfolk if I don’t tell them everything about you. It’s none of their bloody business, most of the time.” Waterstone took a breath, “So, is the interrogation over now? Do you feel safe enough to continue?”

“Sorry. Am I trying your patience?”

“If you hadn’t been beaten up within an inch of your life in front of a heckling audience yesterday, I might say yes. But as it stands, no.”

Tarkyn gathered his thoughts before saying, “First and foremost, I would like to find a way to heal myself; mostly for myself, but also because my battered face is a constant accusation against the Mountainfolk. The sooner that incident becomes past history, the better for everyone.”

“So how can I help?”

“Dry Berry told me that I shouldn’t let my past control my future and that now that I’m not bound and helpless as I was yesterday, I can outface my attackers.”

Waterstone nodded, “Sensible woman, Dry Berry, at least most of  the time.”

Tarkyn found himself a stick and began to break it methodically as he spoke, “When she first said it, I thought it was an easy solution. But it’s not. It is a solution but it’s not easy.” He glanced up at Waterstone then looked back down at his stick, “It’s not fear I’m battling against. It’s worse than that. It’s a feeling of, I don’t know, horrified inevitability; of being helpless and watching fists coming at me with the full weight of the man behind them and being unable to do anything about it. Andoran and Sargon’s treatment of me when they tried to take me for the reward was a total non-event compared to this.”

“So what happens when you try to repair yourself?”

“When I focus on some damaged part of me, the image of the pain coming towards me freezes me. I pull away before I know what I’m doing.”

Waterstone placed his hand firmly on the young prince’s shoulder. “Tarkyn, you are strong and you are brave, and you have me. Dry Berry is right. You must fight fire with fire. Before you focus on the damage, be prepared to fight against your image of the incoming pain. Don’t focus on your damaged flesh. First focus on your tormentors and defeat them. Then when they are gone, you can look to yourself.”

“But they’re not real. They’re already dead. I have already defeated them.”

“No, you haven’t. Because the damage to your spirit still lingers. You have to defeat your image of them, what they meant to you. You have to defeat your helplessness.”

Tarkyn’s spirit wavered. “I don’t know that I can. It was ghastly being held there, unable to do anything.”

“But Tarkyn, you did do something. You called on the eagles and they came. You weren’t helpless. You only appeared to be for a while.”

Tarkyn threw down his stick and looked up at Waterstone, “Yes, that’s true, isn’t it? But at the time, I didn’t know they would come. So I thought I was helpless”

“But now you know you weren’t. So you have something to fight those images with.”

Tarkyn let out a long sigh, “All right. Shall we try?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m going to tap into the oak and go down deep, as I did when I had the broken rib. I want you to be here to keep me connected to the world and to be my anchor. I need your strength and your faith in me.”

“I’ll be here.”

Tarkyn lay down and placed his palm against the mossy old oak. Waterstone sat beside him and placed his hand firmly on Tarkyn’s shoulder. Tarkyn closed his eyes and focused on drawing strength from the old oak. Slowly, he felt himself drifting down and away from his surroundings. Now and again he would come back up a little to reassure himself that Waterstone’s hand was still on his shoulder but eventually he placed his trust in Waterstone and drifted far beyond the outside world. For a while, he just lay there gathering strength from the oak, forming it slowly into a kernel of power. When he felt strong enough, he drew on the power and prepared to outface his tormentors. He directed his focus towards his bruised stomach and chest, ready to thrust outward. But although he could feel the origin of the attack, it no longer drove him away from his injured body. He now knew that, ultimately, his aggressor had no power because the eagles were coming. All he needed to do was to place a small barrier along the outside of his body and endure while he repaired the flesh. He let his power flow into his violated tissue and felt himself relax as the pain finally diminished.

Forty minutes later, Tarkyn rose gently back into consciousness to find Waterstone’s face looking down at him. Waterstone smiled, “Hello there. You fixed yourself, I see. Well done. Was it hard?”

Tarkyn stayed where he was and shook his head. “Nothing like it had been. Once I took into the battle the knowledge that I wasn’t really helpless, there was no battle. Thank heavens for the eagles, is all I can say.”

Waterstone shook his head, “You would have found a way, Tarkyn, even if the eagles hadn’t come. You are the hope of Eskuzor, remember?”

Tarkyn gave a wry smile, “Hope can flicker out just like a flame in the wind. Do not set too much store by the words of an old wizard and a passionate young sorcerer.” He put his hand up to feel his cheek and his jaw, “Hmm, not bad. Still a tiny bit tender in places but good enough.” He sat up. “Has all the bruising gone?”

Waterstone inspected him carefully. “Yes, I think so. Sparrow may be able to stand the sight of you again now.”

“Good of her.” Mention of Sparrow made him look in his cup, “Oh dear. My cup of tea has gone cold and I hardly drank any of it.”

“Never mind. I enjoyed mine. Do you want some water?”

Tarkyn shook his head, “No. I’ll just drink cold tea.”

“So why didn’t you approach Danton to do this? He is a sorcerer and warrior, after all. He understands fighting.”

Tarkyn looked assiduously into his cup. “Because you are my anchor.” He looked up. “I knew I would have to become vulnerable before I became stronger and I trust you with everything about me.” He grimaced, “I know you will find this hard to understand, but Danton comes from a world where the Royal Family is adulated. I don’t know how well he would cope with my vulnerability and I don’t know how well I would cope with him knowing about it.”

“You told him your fears about dealing with reactions to the spread of the oath.”

“Yes, I did. And that was a start. But that was on a completely different level from this.” Tarkyn grinned, “Danton is loyal and passionate and devoted but we grew up in a society where he is my social inferior. He still thinks of himself like that and so do I.” He stared steadily at Waterstone, “But despite my insistence on saying I won’t accept equal status with woodfolk, in actual fact, I consider you my equal in all  but name.”

Waterstone’s face lit up in a smile, “Coming from anyone else, I would almost be offended. But coming from you, that is high praise indeed.”

Tarkyn smiled, “In some areas, more than my equal.”

“Now settle down Tarkyn, you’ll make me blush in a minute.” Waterstone eyed him briefly before saying, “Now here is something I don’t want you to tell any woodfolk either.” When Tarkyn nodded agreement, he continued, “Among woodfolk, to be honest, some woodfolk are more equal than others, if you know what I mean. Well, you’re up there with the best of them.”

It didn’t even cross Tarkyn’s mind to be offended that anyone would consider ranking him against other woodfolk. He laughed with pleasure, “Oh Waterstone, what an admission from you. Thank you. Both for your trust and for saying I’m among the best.”

“Hmph. Don’t you ever tell anyone that I said that.”

Tarkyn just laughed, “Of course I won’t. What a political hot potato that would be if it got out.”

“Precisely.”

“Do you know, that’s the first time you’ve ever told me something that you wanted kept secret from other woodfolk. I assumed you didn’t want the memory sharing advertised but you didn’t ever say so directly to me.”

“It may be the first secret I’ve told you but that’s not because I didn’t trust you. It is more because I have nothing to hide.”

“Except for this one small, underlying premise of all woodfolk dealings,” chortled Tarkyn.

“Stop it. You’ll make me wish I hadn’t told you.”

Tarkyn stopped laughing abruptly. “Sorry. I am not paying your confidence due respect.”

“And no, the inherent inequality of woodfolk is not an argument for your feudal style of government. It does not seem to me that rank in your society is based on worth or ability or any other comparative quality I can think of. At least in our society, we give everyone’s opinion its due, regardless of ability.”

Tarkyn threw his hands up and beat a hasty retreat, “I was not about to mount an attack on woodfolk governance. In actual fact, I am quite impressed with it…. although it does seem to have struck a few problems among the mountainfolk. But that’s no reason to change it. As far as I can see, it just needs a bit more care taken with the outriders, so to speak. It’s just a pity it had to go wrong when I was the issue.”