Bronze Magic (Book 1) (68 page)

When the wizard did not reply, Danton continued, “And I have
always tried to protect him from other dissemblers. Because he is so
straightforward himself, Tarkyn struggles to understand that some people
may be more devious. He knows in his head that people double-cross and
manoeuvre for power and influence at the expense of personal integrity,
but in his heart, he has never been able to come to grips with it.”
Stormaway studied the passionate young sorcerer, “Unless I am much
mistaken, you too have your own emphatic code of ethics.”
Danton gave a slightly embarrassed smile, “Yes, I do. Of course I do,
but not everyone at court realises that. If they did, I would have been
privy to less intrigue and in a poorer position to protect my liege.”
“Ah! A man after my own heart,” said Stormaway as he followed his
nose to large white tent. He pulled back the flap and poked his head
around the corner to see several long trestle tables set up as preparation
benches. Large baskets of vegetables were sitting under the tables waiting
to be prepared for the night’s meal. A huge cooking fire burned slowly in
the middle of the tent beneath a hole in the roof; and several cooks had
already begun to prepare the vegetables. As they were finished, handfuls
of carrots, potatoes and chopped onions drifted through the air into large
cooking pots, already simmering over the fire. Every now and then, one
of the cooks directed a trickle of yellow magic into the steam and smoke
to keep it on course for the hole in the roof.
At a separate table, a hefty cook was dismembering a skinned deer
using a sharp hatchet. Bones and offal were thrown into a big wooden
bucket against the wall of the tent. As Stormaway watched, a marrowbone
missed the bucket and landed on the floor. With a slight frown of
annoyance, the cook casually directed a thin stream of grey magic at the
bone and lifted it off the floor into the waiting bucket before returning
to his chopping.
The wizard withdrew and looked around at Danton, a satisfied smile
playing around his lips. “I think I may have found the wolves’ food. The
meat scraps are being collected in a bucket against the back wall of the
tent. Couldn’t be easier, if that is the case. We’ll wait around here and
make sure.”
“Perhaps we can loosen the stake when the wolves are eating tomorrow
night.”
Stormaway brushed a speck of dirt off his left shoulder. “Possibly,
but the wolves are very close to that tent. It depends on whether their
trainer stays with them while they eat. And whether other people come
to watch them feed too. We’ll watch and see what happens tonight.” He
then brushed down his right shoulder, by the end of which procedure
he had scanned to whole area around them. “We’d better move on. We
don’t want to be seen loitering near the food tent. Let’s stay close by but
wander over and have a look at the horses. ”
They sauntered around the corner of the next tent and ran slap bang
into Andoran and Sargon.
eep in the woods, North Wind and Rainstorm eyed each other as
they followed Waterstone to set up targets.
“He told you, didn’t he?” asked North Wind as soon as they
were out of earshot.
Waterstone nodded as he handed them chunks of yellow ochre, “Here.
Mark out some targets on these trees. We’ll need six or eight of them, I’d
say.”
Surprisingly Rainstorm didn’t object, but merely asked, “How do you
want them?”
Waterstone stood with his hands on his hips while he considered it,
“Just draw a circle with eyes and nose. A bit above our head height. We
don’t need the body. We’ll be aiming for their heads.”
As they each began work on a separate tree, Waterstone said quietly,
“I’ve been looking for a chance to talk to you two, for days.” The woodman
didn’t beat round the bush. “Are you sure, Rainstorm? Couldn’t it just be
the forest protecting its guardian?”
Rainstorm thought carefully before answering, “I don’t think so. It
wasn’t the trees reacting. It was the wind…and it was damaging the trees.
What do you think, North Wind?”
The young woodman shook his head. “No. The trees weren’t protecting
Tarkyn. The wind was lashing the trees, ripping the leaves off them.”
Waterstone looked at Rainstorm with concern. “And how are you? It’s
quite something to come to terms with, isn’t it? I’ve had years to get used
to the concept yet even now, I get upset sometimes. Still, I suppose even
I have only had a few weeks to come to terms with the reality. It’s hard,
isn’t it?”
Rainstorm nodded ruefully. “Especially when I can’t talk to any of my
family about it. They might drive me crazy a lot of the time but when
we are sharing something as huge as this, it is hard to keep it to myself.”
He stood back to look at the face he had drawn. “Hmm, this one looks
a bit lopsided.”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s near enough.” When Waterstone had
finished drawing his own target, he said, “I am impressed by the care
you are showing for our people, keeping such an enormous thing secret.
It takes courage to do that, Rainstorm… and strength of character.” He
walked over to the next large tree and began to size up where to put his
next target. He glanced across at Rainstorm, “I suppose Tarkyn must
have a fair idea of how you’re feeling?”
Rainstorm grimaced and his eyes met North Wind’s, “Ooh, I’d say he
has a slight inkling. I more or less fell apart right in front of him when I
found out.”
North Wind gave a short laugh. “Yes, you did, didn’t you? And Tarkyn
was distressed about by your reaction. You could see it in his face.” North
Wind rubbed at one side of the face he’d just drawn and tried to extend
it out further. He frowned at the messy result, “Blast! This has gone all
wrong. It’s fat on one side and skinny on the other!”
“Don’t worry,” said Rainstorm, “Mine’s lopsided too.”
“They’ll do,” said Waterstone shortly. Then he sighed, “Oh dear,
Tarkyn must have had a great day that day. I followed that up by looking
horrified.” He smiled reminiscently, “And then, when he suggested we
should keep quiet about the oath having spread, I demanded to know if
he was giving me an order.”
The two young woodmen stopped what they were doing and goggled
at him. North Wind chortled. “Waterstone! I can’t believe you’d be so, I
don’t know, adolescent. That’s the sort of thing people expect Rainstorm
and me to do. Not you.”
“Thanks, North Wind,” responded Waterstone dryly, “I think the oath
brings out the worst in me sometimes. Come on, get on with it!” he
added to cover his embarrassment.
North Wind and Rainstorm smiled knowingly at each other before
moving on to start on new targets
“Anyway,” continued Waterstone, ignoring their exchanged look, “I just
wanted to check with you, Rainstorm, to see how you’re coping…. And
I was hoping it was the forest and not the oath but it doesn’t look like it.”
“Thanks.” Rainstorm shrugged, “I’m all right. Tarkyn gave me
permission to attack him in case my temper gives the game away – not
that I’m planning to. I might get myself hurt if I do. Other than that,
it’s up to him really. As long as he doesn’t suddenly start issuing orders, I
don’t think it’s going to make too much difference.”
Rainstorm stopped talking for a few minutes while he lined up the
placement of the next target. When he was satisfied, he gave a little smile
and continued, “Tarkyn’s an impressive character, you know. You weren’t
there when he took on the forestals. But I couldn’t believe how calm he
was, faced with all those unfriendly, hostile woodfolk. If I had to follow
anyone, it would be him.”
Waterstone raised his eyebrows. “I’m amazed to hear you say that,
especially with the oath being so raw for you.”
Waterstone was taken aback. He realised that, in some ways, the
young woodman accepted the prince’s authority more readily than he
did. Waterstone could welcome Tarkyn as a friend and a brother but he
still struggled to accept him as his liege lord.
Maybe his age,
pondered
Waterstone.
To me, Tarkyn is a young man barely out of adolescence. To
them, he is older, a lot more powerful and more experienced in the ways of the
world than they are.
“And you, North Wind? What do you think about
having to follow Tarkyn?” he asked, as he sketched out a large circle on
the tree on front of him.
North Wind finished adding some artistic eyebrows before he replied,
“I don’t like it but having met Tarkyn, it’s not as bad as I had been lead
to expect.” He leaned backwards to see how his face was looking. “Hmm.
That’s a bit better…He’s had such an amazing life. You know, Tarkyn’s
had people bowing to him since he was a little boy. Rank before age.
That’s what he said. What a mad concept.” North Wind shook his head
in wonder. “I don’t know how he has managed to come in here and leave
all that behind.”
“He hasn’t left all of it behind,” said Waterstone dryly as he added in
two large eyes and a rather strange sideways nose. “He still thinks rank
before age.”
North Wind shrugged, “Maybe, but not in the same way as he was
brought up to think.” He frowned reprovingly at the older woodman.
“We’re just bloody lucky he’s not requiring us to behave like Danton.
And I couldn’t believe it when I realised that here he is, trying to get
an equal say, when he could simply dictate to the lot of us.” He paused
in his creation of two almond shaped eyes to study Waterstone, “You’re
too close to him. You’re used to him. But take a step back and you’ll
realise how extraordinary that is for someone who’s always been used
to power.”
Waterstone thought back to the faint derision in his tone when he’d
questioned Tarkyn’s need for greater influence and for keeping a dignified
distance. He realised he had basically taken it for granted that Tarkyn
would have similar views to his own and that discussions around distance
and expectations were curious little peccadilloes in an otherwise normal
woodman. Something of this must have shown on his face because North
Wind added, “I wouldn’t be quibbling about the odd order here and
there, if I were you.”
“No, you may not,” answered Waterstone grimly, “but I would. It does
not sit well with me to have to obey any man. He said he would sooner
die than subvert his will to anyone. That’s pretty much how I feel. Maybe
that’s one reason I get on so well with him. Unfortunately, I must obey
Tarkyn if he insists, but I don’t like it and never will.”
Rainstorm looked up from the eyebrows he was delicately sketching
on his target. “And has Tarkyn always known you feel like this?” he asked
curiously.
Waterstone gave a short laugh, “To quote you, I think he might have
an inkling! We even fought over it at one stage.”
“Really?” North Wind gave a low whistle.
“But I could fight him, only because he’d given me permission,” added
Waterstone bitterly. “And it was not a play fight by any means. I stopped
it pretty quickly but even then it was too late.”
Rainstorm frowned, “Too late for what?”
“Too late to stop one of us getting hurt.” Waterstone glanced at each of
them in turn, then dropped his eyes. “Tarkyn hadn’t recovered properly
from his fall and during the fight, one of his broken ribs punctured his
lung. If Stormaway hadn’t known what to do and Tarkyn hadn’t been a
forest guardian, he would have died. As it was, it was touch and go, even
with all of us sharing our life force with him.”
North Wind let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s scary. With that and
him falling out of the oak tree, we’ve come close to losing the forest twice
in a few weeks.”
“And Tarkyn,” said Waterstone with a sharp edge to his voice.
North Wind shrugged, “And Tarkyn. But, much as he’s an interesting,
likeable character, his loss would be our gain as long as the forest was safe.”
Suddenly, Waterstone lunged forward, swinging his fist at the
unsuspecting young woodman. As the punch connected solidly, North
Wind was thrown over backwards. He found himself lying on the floor
staring groggily at a sky that seemed to be spinning slowly through a web
of overhanging branches. His jaw and shoulder hurt and he licked blood
from a split lip. After what seemed like a several minutes but was actually
only a moment, he lifted his head uncertainly and saw a thunderous
Waterstone standing over him, ready to hit him again if he tried to rise.
North Wind wisely decided to stay where he was and dropped his head
back down. “Stars above, Waterstone! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t hit me
again.” He wiped his mouth and frowned as his hand came away streaked
with blood, “I don’t see why you’re so upset. You just finished saying that
you resent having to obey Tarkyn.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to lose him, you bloody snake-in-the-grass.
How could you be so cold blooded about him? I thought you liked Tarkyn.”
“I do. But you can’t compare that with my freedom and the freedom
of all woodfolk.”
“But you said you wouldn’t hear a word against him,” protested
Rainstorm.
“I haven’t said anything bad about him. I told you. From the little
I’ve seen of him, I like him. I’m just stating facts. After all, we would be
a free people again if Tarkyn weren’t here,” said North Wind, watching
Waterstone nervously.
Waterstone threw him a disgusted look then turned his wrath on
Rainstorm, “And you? Do you think Tarkyn’s loss would be our gain?”
Rainstorm eyed the irate woodman askance. “Are you going to hit me
too, if I give you an answer you don’t like?”
Waterstone clenched his fists at his sides. “No,” he said through gritted
teeth, “I will contain myself. I would rather know where you stand.”
Rainstorm put his head on one side as he thought about it, “I like
the prince and I trust him. Life was much duller around here before he
came. But I don’t like following orders from anyone. Saying that, he said
we would stay on the same footing as before and I believe him, though
I suspect there might be times when that doesn’t hold true.” He gave a
little smile. “Besides, he’s one of the few people who has any respect for
what I have to say. But if Tarkyn’s death could release me from this oath
without the forest being damaged….” Rainstorm shrugged and glanced
at Waterstone standing like a wound up spring before him. He gave a
little mischievous smile, making Waterstone wait, and then admitted,
“No. I wouldn’t want Tarkyn hurt, even if it did release me from the
oath. I guess I can cope with the oath. The ‘honour’ and ‘protect’ bits
are fine. I think he actually deserves them. It’s the ‘serve’ bit that’s a
struggle but I can live with it.” He frowned fiercely. “I am amazed to
hear myself say that, though.”