Bronze Magic (Book 1) (27 page)

“I don’t think we could let you do that, you know,” came a familiar
voice.
Tarkyn spun around to see Waterstone sitting on the stone behind him.
Being stiff and not as agile as usual, the spinning sent him off balance and
only Waterstone’s outstretched hand saved him from falling backwards
into the water. The prince thanked him gruffly and stood up. He walked
over to a nearby tree and sat down with his back to it. He sighed, “How
long were you listening and what can’t you let me do?”
“Long enough.” replied Waterstone with a slight smile. “Even if you’re
a bloody idiot, we can’t let you go off and be miserable on your own.
After all, we have vowed to protect you and that’s a bit hard to do if we’re
nowhere near you.”
Tarkyn glanced up at him but looked away. “You will have to find
a way if that’s what I choose to do.” His ultimatum had still not been
answered. “What have you all decided?”
Waterstone gave a short laugh. “There was never any decision to make.
Nobody wants you ruling us like some sort of tyrant, least of all you, I
suspect.”
The prince nodded reluctantly. “So what took you so long?”
“Trying to figure out how to make sure we keep you in the loop.
Someone has to be posted with you all the time to act as mediator. I
should have thought of that and had you in the same tree as I was. Then
I could have told you what was being said and let everyone know your
ideas.”
“I don’t need someone with me all the time,” protested the prince,
“only when something important is happening or being discussed. I do
need time on my own sometimes, you know.”
Waterstone leaned down and picked up a couple of pebbles and
started to toss them. “That’s a problem, you see. How do we judge what
is important and what is not?”
Tarkyn brushed his hand over his eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Waterstone.
I really do think we might all be better off if I just go away somewhere.
You can keep watch from a distance if you’re worried about me being
safe. I just don’t know how to do this.”
Waterstone dropped the pebbles and came over to squat in front of
Tarkyn with his hand on the prince’s knee. “Tarkyn, don’t give up now.
You’re nearly there. Your ultimatum has presented a few problems but we
just have to find ways around them.”
The prince brought his eyes up to look into his friend’s face.
“Waterstone, despite your best efforts back there, I still behaved just like
my father. Threatening when I should have been talking it through.”
The woodman gave the prince’s knee a pat and stood up.“You know, I
don’t think it will hurt everyone to think they haven’t any room to move.
It will make it easier for them and me to break the habit of mind talking
automatically and leaving you out.” Waterstone held out his hand then
pulled the prince to his feet. “Anyway, I don’t think you did behave like
your father. You are much more controlled than he was. Mostly, you were
just clear about the choices.”
As they walked back up the hill, Tarkyn said resignedly, “Still, I
presume resentment is running high again?”
Waterstone
thought
for
a
moment
before
answering,
mostly
to ensure that Tarkyn didn’t think he was producing an empty
reassurance. “Actually, I think your ultimatum made most people
realise for the first time that you did not intend to exercise absolute
control. Since they had not been party to the discussions we have
had, they didn’t know that before. Not only that, we all understood
why you were angry. It made us realise that you require more than
the respect based on protocol or fear. You are demanding the type of
respect we give each other.” The woodman shrugged, “To be honest,
that is much harder to give.”
Tarkyn stopped walking, a frown gathering on his brow. Before he
could say anything, Waterstone pointed to a side path. “Come on. Let’s
take a longer way back. We need to sort this out before you face everyone,
and I think they need to get on with cleaning those wolf carcasses.” At a
nod from the prince, Waterstone went briefly out of focus.
After a moment, Tarkyn followed the woodman’s suggestion and
turned down the side path. He was still frowning as he asked, “Are you
saying, that after all you and I have been through, you don’t respect me
as you do, say, Autumn Leaves?”
Waterstone flicked a glance at the prince, then cleared his throat
nervously, as he returned his gaze to the path. “In some ways, yes,”
he replied resolutely. He held his breath and waited for the explosion.
When it didn’t come, he turned his head to find the prince staring at him
incredulously.
“Waterstone, your courage never ceases to amaze me. I wish I had
known you for longer.” For one hideous moment, it flashed across the
woodman’s mind that the prince was going to kill him, but Tarkyn
merely clapped him on the shoulder and continued in amazement, “I
don’t think there is another person I have ever met who would dare to
say that to me.”
The woodman let out a quiet sigh of relief and shrugged. “Autumn
Leaves would. Maybe others. Saying that, I have to admit I thought I was
taking a risk.”
“Oh, you were. Believe me, you were.” The prince’s eyes glinted. “The
things I accept here that I would never have countenanced at court
continue to astonish me.” He studied the woodman unnervingly for
several seconds. “So tell me, in what ways do your friends merit more
respect than I do?”
Waterstone took a deep breath to steady himself. He knew he was
pushing the limits of this strange friendship. “This is very difficult. I
risk offending you with everything I can think of to say. But basically
it simply comes down to this. They are woodfolk. You are not.” The
woodman glanced at the sorcerer for a reaction but as far as he could
see, there was none. He continued, “I share a thousand, two thousand
years of ancestry with them. I know how they think, how they react in
every situation. I know their skills. I know how they behave in danger.
I know how we work together. I know them as I know myself.”
“And you do not know me.” It was partly question, partly statement.
Waterstone shook his head. “Not like that, I don’t. How could I? I
have known you for three weeks. I have known them all my life.”
“So in the short time you have known me, where have I fallen short?”
The woodman did not like the detached tone he was hearing in
the prince’s voice. He could feel Tarkyn withdrawing but he was now
committed to this uncomfortable expose.
“Tarkyn, it is like playing with fire, being around you. You are
unpredictable. In a dangerous situation, you are an unknown quantity.
How could you expect me to respect your judgement in a situation
that you have never been in before and that we have been in a hundred
times over?” He paused and looked at the prince who was still gazing
expressionlessly straight ahead as they walked. “Tarkyn, imagine if I came
to court with you where I know little or nothing of the expectations and
dangers….You would probably have to explain and excuse my behaviour
and endure my ignorance embarrassing you in front of your peers.Would
you have as much respect for me there as for your fellow sorcerers?”
The prince smiled sadly. “Knowing you as I do, if I took you to court,
I would respect you far and away more than anyone else there. That
doesn’t mean you would be the best at everything or that you would
shine in all situations.” He considered carefully, “I must admit that in
some circumstances, my greater knowledge could mean that I did not
respect your judgement there as I do here. But I would hope that I would
give your opinions due consideration because you also would know your
limitations.” He shrugged, “I might point out that I did not even attempt
to air any of my opinions during the fight with the wolves.”
Waterstone stopped dead. “I have done you a disservice, haven’t I?
Both now and after the wolf fight when I didn’t ensure that you were
included in the post mortem.” He frowned as he turned to keep walking.
“Now it is I who needs time to think all of this through.”
The sound of hurrying footsteps made them turn in their tracks. Up
the path behind them came the wizard, green robe flapping around him
as he rushed to catch up with them.
“My lord, I don’t know what you said to them but the woodfolk seem
to be very pleased about it.”
The prince raised his eyebrows. “Do they?” He frowned as he thought
through what he had said, “I was concerned that I had been overly harsh
with them.”
“I told you that they were relieved,” said Waterstone.
Stormaway looked suspiciously from one to the other. “What have you
made the prince do?” He demanded of the woodman. “I’m not a fool,
you know. I know you’ve been working on him, taking advantage of his
illness to work your way into his good opinion. Now you’ve used your
influence to manipulate him, haven’t you? Even with the oath, one man
against a nation is poor odds.”
Thank heavens I trawled Waterstone’s memory. I’m not sure I could
withstand this barrage otherwise,
thought the prince. As it was, he let loose
a warning wave of anger which he allowed Waterstone to feel as well
to make sure the woodman realised that he had the prince’s support.
Interesting. I wonder if Stormaway can tell that I also let Waterstone know
that I’m angry? Probably not.
“Stormaway, there is no point in you
blustering in here after the fact and throwing your weight around. While
I have been trying to work out my role among the woodfolk, you have
been conspicuous by your absence.” Tarkyn conveniently forgot that he
had been at some pains to avoid Stormaway at various times. “And where
were you when the woodfolk were fighting the wolves?”
Stormaway waved a hand vaguely. “Oh, here and there. Nowhere near
the river though. I leave that sort of thing to the woodfolk. Not my place
to get involved in it.” He regained some of his bluster and put his hands
on hips. “So what have you done?”
“Stormaway,” the prince’s voice held a warning tone, “you are not my
keeper. You are my advisor. Be calm.” Tarkyn picked small green shoots
from his wooden staff while he waited for Stormaway’s stance to become
more respectful. When the wizard had dropped his arms and nodded a
brief apology, Tarkyn answered, “I told them that they must not mind
talk about anything that concerns me without keeping me informed.”
“Very sensible, Sire, but I can’t see them being relieved about that.”
Tarkyn grimaced, knowing that the wizard would not like what he was
about to say. “I told them that the alternative was that I would assume
control of everything.”
He wasn’t wrong about the reaction. Stormaway almost danced up
and down with frustration. “Your Highness! You are their ruler. You are
supposed to take control.”
Tarkyn took a deep breath and brought his eyes up to hold the wizard’s
gaze. “Stormaway, I am not my father. I may be passionate, but I am not
my father. I am not a king and never will be. I may be a prince, but I am
far from court and the rules are different here.”
“But my lord, it is up to you to impose the rules.”
“Stormaway, it is up to me. And I choose not to.” The calm authority
in his voice forestalled any argument.
Tarkyn looked down at the particular shoot he was trying to remove.
When he had managed to twist it off, he looked back up to find the
wizard staring at him. The prince met his gaze squarely, waiting for the
next sortie. To his surprise, Stormaway turned instead to Waterstone and
demanded, “You made this staff for the prince, didn’t you? I would have
expected you to do a better job of it. When did you make it?”
It struck Tarkyn that Stormaway never asked questions of Waterstone.
He always demanded. Meanwhile the woodman was frowning down at
the staff in some perplexity.
“I made it five, no six days ago. How can it still have green shoots on
it? I trimmed it right back.”
Even as they watched, a tiny pale green shoot pushed its tip through
a small fissure in the side of the staff. Tarkyn raised his eyebrows and
looked from one to the other of them, a slight smile dawning on his face.
Suddenly, Stormaway was all business. “Waterstone, take us to the
trees you repaired the other day. I want to look at them.”
The woodman glanced askance at him but complied without comment.
However, as they moved off, the wizard was taken aback by a firm but
gentle wave of disapproval.
A few minutes later they were standing amongst a group of trees that
Tarkyn and the woodfolk had worked on three days before. The prince
looked up but could not see any sign of the bandaging the woodfolk
had done. “What has happened to the bindings you placed around the
breaks?” he asked.
Waterstone came to stand beside him and gazed up into the trees.
“They’re still there.” He said, pointing at an apparently undamaged
branch. He looked at Tarkyn then back up into the trees. “Look. Just
there. We cover the joints with sap and bark so that they blend in;
otherwise a stranger passing might see our repairs.” As he turned to look
at the wizard, his gaze hardened. “So, what did you want to see?”
“If it is at all possible, I would like to see how well one of your mended
joints is recovering…If you wouldn’t mind, could you please take the
wrappings off one and have a look?”
Waterstone blinked in surprise at the change in Stormaway’s tone. A
flicker of surmise crossed his face but he answered with equal courtesy,
“I would be pleased to assist you. No doubt you will tell us why, in your
own good time.” The woodman climbed nimbly into the nearest tree and
began to unwrap the layer of sap and bark. “Tarkyn, can you hold up the
branch to support it when I take away the bindings? Otherwise we may
damage it beyond repair.”
In answer Tarkyn muttered, “
Liefka!