Bronze Magic (Book 1) (15 page)

The woodman’s face suffused with anger and he would have interrupted
but Tarkyn held up his hand and said peremptorily. “No. Let me finish.
You may be angry with me at the end, if you wish to.”
Waterstone subsided but was clearly simmering.
The prince gazed down at the pebbles in his hand as he continued,
an unpleasantly cynical edge to his voice “As I was about to say, there
are a lot of things you might gain from having my friendship. I am a
powerful sorcerer, certainly more magically powerful in most ways than
your people. Because of the oath, I could insist on absolute power over
your people, if I so choose, and who knows, you could possibly share
that power. In fact, I have much more influence here than I ever had in
my brother’s court. Then, notoriety is always a great draw card.” Tarkyn
brought bitter eyes up to face the angry woodman, “And yet, Waterstone,
despite all the advantages you might gain from my friendship, I think I
believe that your offer of friendship does not depend on them and may
be truly genuine.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” growled Waterstone, not at all gratified, “That’s
the weakest, most conditional avowal of good faith I’ve ever heard… ‘I
think I believe’ and ‘friendship may be genuine’. That’s pathetic! Make
your bloody mind up!”
Tarkyn smiled ruefully, “I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do at the
moment.”
“You poor bloody bastard!” the woodman spat out, unappeased. “It
must be a lonely world for you.”
“It is,” said the prince shortly. Then, much to Waterstone’s further
irritation, Tarkyn shook his head, guffawed with laughter and immediately
wished he hadn’t. He gasped at a sharp stab of pain but managed to get
out, “I love it when you get angry! No one else has ever dared to.”
The woodman stared at him belligerently then suddenly broke into a
smile. “Well, that’s taken the wind out of my sails then, hasn’t it?”
“And if you want to know,” said Tarkyn, still struggling not to laugh,
“It’s the one thing above all else that persuades me that your friendship
may be genuine. No one else would risk losing my goodwill by being so
openly angry.”
“Oh good!” retorted Waterstone, “So all I have to do to prove my
friendship is just get angry all the time and endure you laughing at me.
Well, that is something to look forward to.”
They both found this exquisitely funny, much to Tarkyn’s extreme
discomfort. When they had recovered themselves, Tarkyn had his good
arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. “Oh my aching ribs! I think
I’m dying,” he groaned, still with a smile on his face. “I can’t stand much
more of this.”
Waterstone eyed him and, deciding he could stand a bit more, said
flippantly “Well, you had better not make me angry again then.”
Tarkyn spluttered with laughter then groaned again in pain. “Stop!
Don’t make me laugh.”
The woodman relented and did his best to become serious again. “All
right. I’ll stop. Otherwise you won’t have enough energy to walk back up to
your shelter. I’ll get you another drink of water and then we’ll head back.”
The trip up the hill was much slower and more tiring than the journey
down had been. Tarkyn had been out of bed too long for his first day and
Waterstone was bearing most of his weight by the time they made it into
the shelter. The prince was near exhaustion as the woodman helped him
carefully down onto the bed. Tarkyn went almost instantly to sleep, but
from that point onward, made a more rapid recovery.
ext morning, the darkness lingered and Tarkyn could hear heavy rain
pounding on the roof of the shelter. When the rain finally ceased,
he could see chinks of sunlight through tiny gaps in the shelter’s
structure. But still no one came to see him. By mid-morning he
was very hungry and becoming concerned at the unexplained change
in routine. Eventually a gentle rustling heralded the arrival of Sparrow.
However, she did not pull back the screening as usual but slithered in
through the lower branches of it, clutching a small bag. Even before
she stood up, she put her finger to her lips to signal silence. Quietly,
she opened the bag and set out meat, bread and jam on a plate that she
gave to Tarkyn with a flask of water. Then she sat down and watched
him eat.
After a few minutes, the intensity of her gaze gave the prince
pause. He looked at her, pointed to the food and then to her. Sparrow
hesitated then shook her head. Tarkyn thought for a moment then
pointed separately to the meat, bread and jam and put his hand on
his heart and his head on an angle after each one. She smiled and
nodded in response to the bread and jam but pulled her mouth down
at the meat. So then Tarkyn awkwardly spread some jam on a piece of
bread, using his one available hand, and held it out to her. Sparrow put
her head on one side and screwed her face up in uncertainty but the
prince nodded emphatically. So she accepted the bread and jam with
a beaming smile.
Then, clear as a bell in Tarkyn’s mind, appeared the image of the
water flask. He picked it up and offered it to Sparrow who accepted it
with a casual smile of thanks. Tarkyn was just congratulating himself on
having picked up a mind picture when suddenly they heard the sounds
of shouting and crashing through the undergrowth in the woods outside.
The prince’s eyes widened in alarm, as he imagined woodfolk being
hunted down and injured. Pictures of an intense sorcerer on horseback
searching through the woods flowed into his mind. Tarkyn brought two
fingers from his eyes to indicate looking, and then pointed to himself
with his head on one side. The girl shrugged and pointed to him then put
her head on one side and mimicked an animal running with her hand
and shrugged again.
In answer to an unspoken query, Tarkyn received a picture from
Waterstone high up in an oak tree, well hidden and looking down
on an unshielded sorcerer passing below. The prince recognised the
sorcerer and even as he concluded that it must be the king’s Hunting
Party, he sensed Waterstone’s eyes widen and lose focus, as he received
the image.
Tarkyn was so distracted that he didn’t realise Sparrow was trying to
get his attention. She came over and tapped him on the arm. Once he
was looking, she put out her hand raising different numbers of fingers
with a look of query on her face. The prince thought about a full hunting
party and using her fingers, Sparrow checked with him that twenty was
about right. He nodded and immediately sensed Waterstone passing the
message on to other woodfolk in nearby trees.
Then, way below Waterstone, on the forest path, the king and
his twin brother came into view. A jolt of fear, loss and rage blasted
through Tarkyn and his mind went blank. In consternation, he saw
Sparrow give a little whimper and crumple onto the floor. He threw
himself out of bed, sending the food flying. In a panic, he placed his
hand on her neck and felt for a pulse. Beneath his fingers he could feel
her heart beating strongly but very slowly. He breathed a sigh of relief
and hoisted himself down onto the floor to sit with his back against the
bed. Then he gently lifted Sparrow’s head, put it on his lap and began to
stroke her hair. He tried to project calm soothing images but he could
feel his mind blocking him. Gradually, by calming himself first and
then focusing his will, he relaxed his mind barrier and was able to send
waves of reassurance into the little girl’s mind.
After what seemed an eternity, Sparrow stirred. She stared up at the
prince looking down at her in concern, and tears began to roll down her
cheeks. She picked herself up and climbed onto his lap, snuggling her
head against his good shoulder so that he could wrap his arm around her.
Then she quietly sobbed her heart out. Tarkyn held her, stroking her arm
and whispering softly in her ear until her sobs subsided and she gradually
fell asleep.
Not too much later, sounds of shouting drew closer. Tarkyn hugged
Sparrow closer to him and with an awkward flick of his hand, threw
a shield up around them. He could hear the wind picking up outside,
throwing leaves and small branches spattering against the outside of the
shelter. The shouting resolved itself into the voice of Waterstone yelling,
“Her mind link stopped. Where is he? I’ll kill the bastard if he’s hurt a
hair on her head,” followed by a crackling voice saying, “Calm down.
Let’s just see if she’s safe first,” and another voice rumbling, “You can’t.
You have to think of the forest.”
The screening was thrown aside and Waterstone, blood running from
a gash in the side of his face, stormed in flanked by the two woodfolk
who were trying to calm him down and restrain him. He threw them off
and seeing his daughter, pale and still, in Tarkyn’s arms, rushed at the
prince.
“I’ll kill you, you bastard,” he shouted. Outside, the wind roared
through the trees and they could hear branches cracking and crashing
down. Not far away, a ponderous series of crashes signalled the death of
some large tree as it fell victim to the howling gale.
The sorcerer expanded the shield to keep Waterstone at bay. The
woodman hit the barrier and became, if possible, more angry.
“How dare you keep me from my daughter?” he raged.
Tarkyn sent a look of appeal to the other two woodfolk but Waterstone
threw off all attempts to contain him.
“Waterstone. Waterstone,” said Tarkyn urgently, “She’s all right. She’s
not dead. She’s sleeping,” but the woodman was ranting so much, he
didn’t even register that the prince was speaking.
With a mute apology, the sorcerer, in quick progression, dropped the
shield then incanted, “
Shturrum.
” The three woodfolk froze.
“I’m sorry, Waterstone and you others. I don’t want to use strongarm tactics but Waterstone, you must listen; Sparrow is all right. She’s
sleeping – Do you understand? It’s taken a long time to get her to sleep
and I was hoping not to disturb her. It is your choice, of course. But
if you’re going to beat me up, do it somewhere away from Sparrow.”
The prince smiled wryly at the other two. “And don’t worry about your
forests. As long as he doesn’t actually kill me, he has my permission to do
to me what he needs to.”
As soon as he said this, the wind outside dropped and an uneasy
silence settled on the forest. The sorcerer waved his hand again, removing
the paralysis spell but not re-instating the shield. He braced himself for
Waterstone’s next move but the woodman now had himself in check.
“Give me my daughter,” he demanded flatly.
“Here.” Tarkyn gently shrugged his shoulder to push Sparrow forward
towards her father but the movement woke her.
The little girl opened her eyes sleepily and smiled at her father,
“Hello dad. Tarkyn’s been minding me.” She started to nod off but
murmured, just before she went back to sleep, “Actually, we’ve been
minding each other.”
Tarkyn and Waterstone were left staring at each other across the
sleeping form of the woodman’s daughter.
“I’ll speak to you later,” said Waterstone shortly and walked out
bearing Sparrow.
The prince looked at the other two woodfolk.
“Have the huntsmen gone?” he asked urbanely to cover the awkward
moment.
“They’ve been gone for an hour or more,” rumbled one of them.
“Just as well, with Waterstone shouting like that.” The prince frowned.
“I thought woodfolk weren’t supposed to shout.”
The woodmen exchanged glances. “We don’t, in the normal course of
events.”
The prince smiled disarmingly at them. “Would you mind telling me
your names again? I have become confused.” He hazarded a guess. “Are
you Thunder Storm?” He received a nod. “And you?”
“Autumn Leaves.”
“I thought you were, but I wasn’t sure.”
Tarkyn flexed his shoulder and asked, “Could you two help me back
into bed. I’ve been sitting in the same position for a couple of hours. It
is not that I minded holding Sparrow, but my arm and shoulder were
screaming by the end of it.
Once he was settled back in bed, Tarkyn asked, “What happened to
Waterstone’s face?”
The two woodfolk looked at each other again, then Autumn Leaves
shrugged, “We’re not sure. Just as the king and his brother were riding
underneath, Waterstone’s eyes went wide and he lost his balance and
nearly fell out of the tree. Luckily Thunder Storm was near enough to
grab him but he swung in against the trunk of the tree and gashed his
cheek. After that, all he wanted to do was get back here but we couldn’t
move until the hunting party had left the area.”
The prince ran his hand through his hair. “Poor Waterstone. No
wonder he’d worked himself into such a frenzy.”
“My lord,” rumbled Thunder Storm, “It is important that Waterstone
is made to realise that he must control himself. He endangered the forest
with his behaviour towards you.”
The prince raised his eyes brows superciliously. “He has indeed, but
that will be the last time you pass judgement on my actions. Perhaps you
have forgotten that I, too, have sworn to protect the forests. I will deal
with Waterstone as I see fit. The mindblast that hit Waterstone was a
fraction of what hit his daughter, and I was its source. He was frightened
for his daughter. He had every right to be angry with me, even though he
must have known it was unintentional.”
“But my lord...,”
“But what?” asked the prince icily. “Do you expect a man to stand by
and accept his daughter being hurt?”
“Perhaps not.” rumbled Thunder Storm stiffly.
“Do you have a daughter, Thunder Storm?”
“I have two sons, my lord, five and seven years old.”
“And how would you feel if I or someone else injured one of your
sons?”
“I would be upset, of course, but I would like to think that I would
maintain a sense of proportion and put the welfare of all woodfolk before
my own concerns.”
“It has obviously not happened to you yet,” observed the prince tartly.
“We would all like to think that we could act rationally in times of stress,
Thunder Storm, but we often don’t.”