Bronze Magic (Book 1) (76 page)

Tarkyn turned on his heel to walk away but Ancient Oak’s creaking
voice stopped him, “I think our celebrations would have been spoilt a lot
more by losing Autumn Leaves,” he said quietly. “Speaking for myself, I
would like to thank you for what you did.”
Tarkyn swung back around and gave a short, mirthless laugh, “Huh.
Don’t mention it. Anyway, I didn’t do it for your gratitude…. And I
didn’t do it to prove a point. I did it for Autumn Leaves.”
Just as he finished speaking, the three rescued woodfolk emerged
from the shelter, clinging nervously to each other as they confronted this
fearsome sorcerer. Tarkyn frowned to see them still chained together,
unaware that his concern for them made him appear even more
frightening.
“Can’t we get these chains off them? They are demeaning.”
“We are trying, my lord,” said Falling Branch. “It will take some time,
I’m afraid.”
Tarkyn realised that the freed woodfolk were looking at him in alarm
and softened his tone, “I beg you pardon. I did not wish to appear harsh.
I will see if I can help you in a minute. Perhaps we should sit down near
the fire. Then I won’t be towering over you.” When they were seated,
Tarkyn asked, “Have you had anything to eat or drink? I know it’s late
but you might like something.”
Golden Toad plucked up courage to reply, “I could do with a good stiff
drink, if there’s one around. I haven’t had a wine in weeks.”
Tarkyn was intrigued to hear that Golden Toad’s voice was indeed deep
and stop-started so that the phrases came out jerkily. Feeling trapped
with this huge young man, Golden Toad glanced at the other woodfolk
in supplication.
“Don’t worry,” said Waterstone reassuringly, “Even if he is a little
autocratic, this sorcerer is not going to hurt you. He is one of us,
not one of them.” He glanced at Tarkyn and, despite their recent
disagreement, managed a little smile, “His looks are deceiving.”
When they still looked unconvinced, Waterstone added, “He is my
brother. Look!”
He rolled up his sleeve and showed them his scar. Tarkyn did the same.
Golden Toad looked in wonder from one to the other. “How can this
be? It has never happened before.”
“Long story. We’ll tell you another time,” said Ancient Oak as he
handed them mugs of fine wine. “I can tell you this, though. Without
my brother here, we would never have found you or been able to rescue
you. He is a forest guardian.”
“No! Are you really?” asked Golden Toad. “That’s amazing!”
Tarkyn smiled disarmingly, “Yes, it is rather amazing, isn’t it?”
“So, that’s how you controlled the horses, isn’t it?” Golden Toad turned
to his wife. “Imagine that, Rushwind. A real forest guardian!”
Tarkyn was beginning to feel like a travelling freak show again. He
transferred his attention to Falling Branch, “How long will it take you to
break those chains?”
Falling Branch grimaced, “Quite some time. I can’t get in close enough
with a chisel, and a file will take ages.”
Tarkyn’s eyes narrowed as he thought about it, “Do you want me to try?”
Falling Branch glanced at the chained woodfolk then back at Tarkyn.
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
Tarkyn caught his look and correctly interpreting it, asked Golden
Toad, “How would you feel about me exerting a little magic to remove
your chains? I won’t go near you if you don’t want me to. It’s up to you.”
“Will it hurt?” asked Rushwind nervously.
Tarkyn gave a slight smile, “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. If I
do it, I’ll try it on a loose bit of chain first and see what happens.”
The rescued woodfolk looked at each other then back at Tarkyn. “Try
it on the loose chain first. Then we’ll decide.”
“Fair enough.”
The sorcerer laid out the end of the chain nearest the stake, then raised
his hand and sent a thin intense beam of power into it. One of the links
snapped apart with a sharp report. Everyone jumped back. Tarkyn leaned
forward quickly and felt the neighbouring links. Then he flicked his
fingers away shaking his hand and put them in his mouth.
“Ow. That burned!” Tarkyn mumbled around hurting fingers.
“Well,
heal
yourself
and
get
on
with
it,”
said
Rainstorm
unsympathetically. “I’ve seen you do it before with the rope marks.”
“All right. All right. Give me a chance. I’ve got blisters, you know.” He
took his fingers out of his mouth and shook his hand. “Ow. Just because
I can fix it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He took a deep breath, shut his
eyes and focused his being into soothing and healing his damaged fingers.
As the woodfolk watched, the redness on his fingers disappeared and the
blisters melted back into the skin. He opened his eyes. “There! Feel free to
be sympathetic next time.” He looked around. “Right. So that’s only going
to work if we can shield their bodies from the heat. What could we use?”
“A thick wad of bark,” suggested Waterstone.
Tarkyn nodded. “Let’s try it.” He smiled evilly, “Rainstorm. You can
put your hand under the bark and test it this time. I will heal you if you
get burnt.”
Rainstorm scowled at him but realised his lack of sympathy had
dumped him in it. “Fine. But you had better heal me fast if I need it.”
“I will. Ready?” Once more Tarkyn aimed a thin strong ray of bronze
at a link. The link cracked apart but Rainstorm didn’t move. Slowly
the bark began to smoulder on the outside. “Thank you Rainstorm.
You’ve made your point. It worked. You had better move before the
bark catches alight, though.” Tarkyn looked at Golden Toad. “Well?
Are you prepared to take the chance? You don’t have to, but it will
be quicker. If the worst comes to the worst and you get burnt, I can
heal you.”
Golden Toad looked at Rushwind who nodded, then back at Tarkyn.
“Yes. Go on.”
Thick wads of bark were pushed in between the chains and their
waists. They lifted their arms up out of the way. “Ready?” asked Tarkyn.
“I’m going to do all three of you at once. So hold still until I say.”
The sorcerer took a deep breath and centred himself to steady his hand.
Then he sent a short sharp pulse of bronze power into a link of each of the
three chains one after another. The chains fell to the ground with a clatter
and the smoking bark was whisked away by waiting hands and thrown
on the fire. Everyone let out the breaths they had been holding, while the
released woodfolk jumped up and cavorted about.
“Oh. It’s good to be free again after all this time,” chortled Rushwind.
“Thank you, young man, whoever you are.”
The rest of the woodfolk seemed to find this exquisitely funny. Tarkyn
rolled his eyes and laughed, “It’s a nice change not to be at the centre of
someone’s universe.”
The woodfolk swung into full-scale celebrations and plied their rescued
kin with wine and food. Everyone gathered around them, catching them
up on births, deaths and marriages they had missed.
Eventually Golden Toad came nervously over to sit near Tarkyn. “I
believe we owe you our thanks. I did not thank you properly before.”
“You are most welcome. But I would have to say that I was only one
among many who mounted this rescue. Do not confine your thanks
to me.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t.” Golden Toad bobbed his head
apologetically; “In fact I’ve left you until last because, well to be quite
honest, I’m a little nervous of you”
“Considering the recent company you’ve been keeping, that is hardly
surprising.” Tarkyn looked gravely at him, “I don’t know whether you’ve
worked out who I am yet but I would like to say on behalf of most
sorcerers that I am sorry for what you have been through. There are
rogues in every society. Most sorcerers are generally kind, work hard
for their living and look after their friends and families just as you do.
I’m afraid you and most of the other woodfolk have developed a very
jaundiced view of sorcerers. But please, at least get to know me before
you judge me.”
“And who are you exactly?” Golden Toad looked puzzled. “I believe
you’re our new forest guardian which is more than enough on its own.
But I gather there is more to you than that.”
Tarkyn shrugged and gave a little smile. “I am Tarkyn Tamadil, third
son of King Markazon and youngest brother of King Kosar. Also known
as rogue sorcerer, I’m afraid to say.”
Golden Toad swallowed, “Oh dear. And holder of the Sorcerer’s Oath
and our long awaited liege lord.”
“Yes. I’m afraid so.”
Golden Toad looked into the fire as he digested this information. After
a while he said, “Well, you seem pretty generous with your time and
power for a liege lord. That’s not what I saw at the encampment. Lords
seemed much more high and mighty from what I could see of them. Not
that I could see much through the cracks in the canvas.”
Tarkyn laughed. “Well, I’m overlord to most of those lords. That is, I
was.”
Golden Toad swung his head around to look at Tarkyn. His eyes
narrowed, “They’re saying some pretty terrible things about you. I’m glad
I met you before I knew who you were. I’d have been scared to death,
otherwise.”
“I thought you might have been. But not now?”
Golden Toad shrugged, “You seem all right so far. You’ve done nothing
but try to help us as far as I understand it. Anyway, if you were as bad as
they were saying, you wouldn’t have become our liege lord. So a lot of it
must be untrue.”
Tarkyn raised his eyebrows. “You’re taking this all very calmly. I
thought you’d be upset when you found out who I was. I wasn’t very
popular with everyone else, to start with.”
“No. I imagine you weren’t. On the other hand, from what Ancient
Oak said, I believe we owe you our freedom.”
The prince grimaced, “I’m afraid that is all too true. You are among
those who swore the oath, aren’t you?”
Golden Toad nodded.
“Then if you remember the words, you do indeed owe me your
freedom, I’m afraid. You are bound to honour, serve and protect me, as
am I bound to protect and support you.”
Golden Toad looked around the clearing at various woodfolk
wandering around, chatting, drinking and eating, none of them paying
Tarkyn much attention. He brought his gaze back to the prince. “They
don’t seem to be finding it too onerous. It has to be better than being
chained up. No one’s dragged me aside to warn me about you. So you
can’t be too bad.”
“Don’t let him get you worried about it,” piped up Rainstorm from the
other side of Tarkyn. “It’s not as bad as you’d think it would be.”
“And you’d know that because…?” asked Tarkyn, a clear note of
warning in his voice.
Rainstorm shrugged sheepishly. “Just from what I’ve observed, you
understand.”
“I assumed that’s what you meant,” said Golden Toad, unaware of the
undercurrent of the conversation. “You’re one of the forestals, aren’t you?
Your lot didn’t swear the oath, did they?”
Rainstorm cleared his throat, “No. They didn’t.”
Golden Toad yawned, “Does anyone go to sleep around here? It can’t
be long until dawn.”
Tarkyn smiled, “They are just excited at having succeeded in their
rescue and having you back among them. Tonight is the climax of a lot
of planning, you know. Go on. You’ll have to go and chat with them all
before you go to bed.”
As soon as he had gone, Tarkyn turned to Rainstorm. Before he could
say anything, Rainstorm smiled ruefully and said, “I’m sorry. I nearly
gave the game away, didn’t I?”
Tarkyn waved a hand. “I’m not worried about that. You recovered
quickly enough. Anyway now the rescue is over, it doesn’t matter as
much. It might be time to face the music soon. But not tonight.”
hen the world swam back into focus, Danton found himself once
more with his hands tied behind his back. His first reaction was alarm
that the sorcerers had discovered his complicity in the woodfolk’s
activities. Then he looked around and realised that he was somewhere in
the forest. Breathing a sigh of relief, he let his head drop back down. Just
as he was drifting back to sleep, a feeling of intense irritation overcame
him. He was tired of being mistrusted.
In the grey before dawn, the sound of birds singing in nearby trees woke
him. Danton struggled into a sitting position and leant his head back
against a tree. He thought about the events of the night before and knew
that his actions had been misconstrued. He remembered what Tarkyn had
said about the world not being big enough to hide him if he betrayed his
prince. His stomach lurched in fear before anger took over. Well, he hadn’t
betrayed the prince and he was sick of having to prove himself.
Time passed slowly. A pale yellow sun was streaming between the
sparse leaves of the trees by the time anyone bothered to approach him.
Danton heard a slight rustle and turned his head to find Waterstone
watching him from the edge of the clearing.
“How long have you been there?” Danton asked.
“For a few minutes.”
“So. What now? Do I go on trial?” Danton’s voice was scathing. “Or
do you kill me out of hand as a traitor without a hearing?
Waterstone walked around and sat down cross-legged in front of the
bound sorcerer. “What do you think should happen?”
Danton scowled at him, “It’s too late for what I think should happen.
You should have left me to get on with the job as we had agreed. Now I
will be associated with your activities and will no longer be able to walk
freely among the sorcerers. That severely reduces my usefulness to you
and Tarkyn.” He shrugged and added bitterly, “But since none of you
trusts me, I am of no use to you anyway.”
Waterstone considered him, his head to one side. “What could you say
that might convince us? How would we know you weren’t acting?” He
paused, “We all watched you in action with Sargon and Andoran. Either
you were acting then or you are acting now. And we saw you rush out
with them right into the middle of our raid. So how can we trust what
you say?”
“You can’t,” replied Danton flatly. “And frankly, I have no intention of
putting any more effort into convincing you.”
Waterstone gave a slight smile, “I can understand your irritation but it
would seem, in your position, that it might be worth your while to find
a way to prove your trustworthiness.”