The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (42 page)

“Dog’s teeth Danton!” Tarkyn was shaken, “We have serious trouble. Midnight and the bloodhounds are converging on each other and should both arrive in the clearing in about twenty minutes time.”

“Then we have to intercept Midnight before he gets there,” said Danton calmly.

In an uncharacteristic fluster, Tarkyn flapped his arms, “But which way is it?”

Danton smothered a smile, “Tarkyn, I thought you just looked at it from above.”

“I did, I did. Please, Danton. Don’t argue about what I should know. Just tell me which way we should go.”

“Come on. It’s this way.” Danton set off at a dead run up through the clearing and towards the mountains. “You know we are ruining all our efforts at diverting the bloodhounds? Our scent will take them straight from the clearing to us.”

Tarkyn jogging at his side, answered between breaths, “I don’t care. I would rather we faced them than ran from them anyway. You and I can handle this upstart of a wizard and his pet sorcerers. As long as the woodfolk are well away, we can manage.”

Danton raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

A few hundred yards later, Tarkyn gave a short laugh, “Danton, you produce such speaking silences, I don’t know why you ever bother to talk.”

“Very funny, Your Highness.”

“Oh dear. And now we’re back to being formal. You think I’m being arrogant and over-confident, don’t you?”

“Far be it for me to criti..”

“Oh put a sock in it, Danton. Speak your mind, for heavens’ sake. We don’t have time to pussyfoot about.” He glanced at his friend as they ran, “And keep your eyes out for Midnight. We don’t want him to get past us.”

Danton’s mouth thinned with annoyance but he was not going to let Tarkyn force him into incivility. Without commenting on Tarkyn’s previous pronouncement, he said, “I think we should stop in a minute and either you can try to contact Midnight again or use one of your bird friends to find him. It would be too easy for him to bypass us, particularly if he is instinctively avoiding people.”

Tarkyn knew Danton had dodged his challenge but let it rest as they dealt with the more pressing issue. Tarkyn sent his mind wandering through the trees ahead of them searching for Midnight’s mind. Remembering the last time Midnight had been upset, he realized that he should be able to locate the boy, even if he couldn’t communicate with him. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “He’s up ahead over to the right. Quickly. If you veer off and come at him from the other side of him, you can shepherd him towards me.”

Danton sped off without another word. A few minutes later, Tarkyn saw the little boy streaking through the undergrowth towards him. As soon as he spotted Tarkyn, Midnight veered away before he had even had time to register who it was. Tarkyn waved a hand and roared, “Shturrum!”

Between one step and the next, Midnight froze and, caught off balance, toppled to the ground. Tarkyn strode over to the motionless boy and made sure he had a good grasp on him before releasing the spell. Midnight stared up at him in shock before remembering his mission and struggling to get away. Tarkyn sent him such a severe command to stay still that the colour drained from Midnight’s face. Keeping the boy’s arm in a very firm grip, Tarkyn projected images of the approaching sorcerers and bloodhounds and made clear the danger that they were all now in. As it became borne upon him what he had done, Midnight’s eyes dilated with fear and he cowered away from Tarkyn, clearly expecting to be hit. Tarkyn loosened his grip slightly and surrounded the little boy in reassurance.  Tears welled in Midnight’s eyes but with a shuddering breath, he kept himself rigidly under control and sent a query asking what he should do.

Tarkyn eased his grip further and squatted down in front of him. Using images, he told Midnight to climb up into a nearby pine tree and to wait for him away from the clearing. He made it clear that Midnight was not to be seen by the sorcerers or the wizard. Then he placed his hand on his heart and waited until Midnight reluctantly did the same. As Midnight turned to leave, the little boy’s face crumpled and he could no longer contain his sobs. Even though time was short, Tarkyn turned him back around, gave him a fierce hug and wrapped a wave of understanding and comfort around him before sending him on his way.

Tarkyn stood up to find Danton watching him from a short  distance away.

“So now what do we do?” demanded his liegeman.

“We must go back and confront these sorcerers,” replied Tarkyn. “Our trail will lead them straight to us anyway and to Midnight. We must meet them in the clearing and keep them away from Midnight.”

Danton stood with hands on his hips. “Right. Now I will say it. I think you’re mad. How can you hope to outface a posse of mounted sorcerers and half a dozen bloodhounds?”

Tarkyn turned and began to run back to the clearing, calling over his shoulder, “Danton, don’t just stand there. Argue with me as we run. We must be well away from Midnight when they arrive. If we get to the clearing first, I can at least rescue his wristband for him.”

“Tarkyn, what are you thinking, worrying about a wristband when you are facing capture?”

Tarkyn smiled unnervingly, “I have my shield. You have yours. How can they touch us?”

Danton shook his head but said nothing more, saving his breath instead for the upcoming confrontation.

By the time they reached the clearing, they could already hear the baying of the hounds. Tarkyn glanced quickly around the clearing, summing up its potential dangers and advantages. He strode over to the place where they had all been sitting on the previous night and found the little plaited wristband hanging from the thin low branch. He untied it and placed it around his wrist. He raised his eyes to meet Danton’s and smiled, “Quickly. Can you tie this for me? It’s for luck, you know. To remind me of all I have to lose and all I have to fight for.”

Danton gave his head a little shake as he tied the wristband and smiled in return, “Whatever happens, we will not let them find our woodfolk.”

Even as he finished speaking, the first pair of bloodhounds thrust through the undergrowth. Tarkyn whirled around to confront them, his long black hair swinging out behind him. Within moments, the clearing was filled with horses, men and hounds, all encased in a shimmering greyish blue. Tarkyn stood stock still, watching them from within his bronze haze while Danton stood stoically beside him, surrounded by aqua.

For a few moments, no one spoke. The wizard and the sorcerers were clearly non-plussed to come across their quarry so suddenly; even more so to find him confronting them, rather than running. They controlled their fretting horses and gradually brought them to a standstill with their hounds ranged before them. The wizard sat astride a fine white charger at their head.

“Good morning,” said Tarkyn quietly and gave a slight bow, betraying not one whit of fear. “I am Tarkyn Tamadil, Prince of Eskuzor.” He indicated Danton, “This is my friend and liegeman, Danton Patronell, Lord of Sachmore.” Danton obligingly produced a florid bow. “Perhaps if we are to have a discourse, you might like to introduce yourselves.”

The wizard’s uncertainty was betrayed by the restiveness of his horse that stamped its hoof and switched its tail. The silence drew out. Tarkyn raised his eyebrows and spoke in an aside to Danton, “Do you think they are unable to speak or is it perhaps that they lack training in etiquette?”

“My name is Journeyman Cloudmaker,” said the wizard abruptly. “And I have come to take you back to be tried for the deaths of the guards in the Great Hall.”

The prince ignored this last remark and asked, “And your companions?”

Journeyman huffed but decided on balance to respond. Once he had introduced all eight sorcerers, he reiterated, “And now can we put an end to this farce? You are coming back to be tried on multiple counts of murder.”

“What about the original charge of damage to public property?” enquired Tarkyn maddeningly. “I suppose that has been overshadowed by later events, hasn’t it?” He shrugged, “It was always a trumped up charge anyway.” He folded his arms, “You don’t need to try me, you know. I freely confess to causing those deaths although I do not admit to murder. I did not cause them intentionally. I didn’t fire on anyone. My shield reflected the guards’ power rays when they fired on me.”

The wizard glared down at him. “What rubbish! Shields absorb, they don’t reflect. Of course you killed them intentionally. You murdered them before fleeing the Great Hall.”

“As it turns out,” said Tarkyn calmly, “I have no interest in arguing with you about it. You are free to believe as you will.”

The wizard’s voice hardened. “Regardless of your lack of interest, you must return with us to stand trial.”

Tarkyn smiled slightly, “I think not.”

The wizared boggled at him and waved his arm around. “Can you not see that you are outnumbered?”

“Certainly.”

Journeyman glared at him, “How can you hope to defend yourself against our greater numbers?”

Tarkyn shrugged, “In return, might I ask how you are planning to penetrate my shield?”

“I don’t have to. I can just outwait you.” As he spoke, the young wizard waved the sorcerers to spread out into a semicircle around the prince. “There are more of us to take it in turns to maintain our shield. Sooner or later you will need to sleep... and then we will have you.”

“Oh I don’t know. Danton and I can take shifts for a very long time; the rest of our lives, if need be. I concede that it may become tiresome but it’s workable, nonetheless.”

“Sooner or later you will let your guard down,” replied Journeyman flatly.

“You may well be right,” agreed Tarkyn conversationally, “The rest of our lives is such a long time, isn’t it?”

“So, are you prepared to wait it out until one or the other of you falters, or will you concede and come quietly now?”

“Do you know, neither particularly appeals. You see, there is just one small factor that you haven’t accounted for,” said Tarkyn imperturbably. As he spoke, he wandered over to the edge of the clearing and leant comfortably against a tree, much to the further irritation of the wizard. Danton followed, to stand beside him.

Journeyman gave up and rolled his eyes, “Which is?”

“Neither of us can penetrate the other’s shield. Correct?”

Once the wizard had nodded, Tarkyn continued, “And none of you can penetrate your own shield from within, can you?”

“Obviously,” replied the wizard impatiently.

Tarkyn smiled, “Now there, you see, is the difference. I can send forth power from within my own shield and I can perform more than one spell at a time. Quite helpful, wouldn’t you say?”

The wizard flicked an uncertain glance at his henchmen before saying, “Not particularly, if you can’t penetrate our shield anyway.”

“Now you’re not thinking this through carefully, are you?” said Tarkyn in a kindly tone that made the wizard’s blood boil. “Look above you. See that enormous tree? What do you think would happen if I felled it on you? Your shield would probably protect you, if you could maintain your focus amidst the mayhem, but you would be pinned to the ground.” He shrugged, “Then Danton and I could just leave you to your fate and walk away.” He glanced at Danton, “Not that I think we would because, despite the rumours, neither of us is totally heartless.”

“I don’t believe you,” said the wizard flatly. “No one can perform more than one piece of magic at once. You’re just bluffing.”

Suddenly Tarkyn’s eyes flashed with anger and a spear of bronze power shot out from within his shield to blast a deep hole in the ground just outside the greyish blue shield in front of the wizard. The horses cavorted and snorted in fright and the bloodhounds set up a din of bloodcurdling baying. For several minutes, chaos reigned inside the greyish blue shield until the animals were once more brought under control. The young wizard looked a little shaken but issued sharp orders to his men, nonetheless.

A group of three horsemen encased in a purple shield suddenly broke away from beneath the blue-grey shield and attempted to drive at Danton and Tarkyn from the left. At the same time, three more carrying a large net between them broke through on the right. Suddenly Tarkyn and Danton had sorcerers bearing down on them from three sides at once, with a tree behind them.

“Up, Danton! Drop your shield. I’ll cover you. Straight up. Now!”

The two sorcerers rose into the air inside a bronze haze. The frustrated horsemen milled around beneath them as Tarkyn and Danton landed on a sturdy bough ten feet above their heads.

Tarkyn ignored the sorcerers below them while he talked to Danton, “You hold me steady while I concentrate. I will maintain the shield and continue my attack. Clear?”

Danton nodded, placed one arm around the trunk and the other around Tarkyn’s waist.

Once he had steadied himself and placed the maintenance of the shield into the back of his mind, Tarkyn sent forth a bolt of bronze power into the ground at the base of the tree. Immediately the horsemen were forced back into the centre of the clearing as their horses shied away from the noise and flying dirt.

Another bronze shaft tore into the ground, driving the horsemen back and to the right as the horses plunged away from the blast. Shaft after shaft struck the ground, each time leaving long enough between strikes so that the horses didn’t completely panic but rolled their eyes in distress and backed away from the noise and light.