The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (14 page)

Into the stony silence that greeted this remark, Danton said, “I would think very carefully about giving me permission to hit you if you are going to make remarks like that.”

“But it is exactly because I don’t believe in ranks, that I give you my permission.”

Danton turned to Tarkyn, “And why did you give your permission to Waterstone, if I may ask?”

Tarkyn smiled at Waterstone while he considered his answer. “Many reasons. More now than at the time. First and foremost, to protect the forest from the consequences of Waterstone’s anger. Secondly, and this will sound strange coming from me, Danton, to put us on a more equal footing.”

Danton looked bewildered, “I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair, “This is hard to explain. Because Waterstone always treated me as an equal it somehow seemed only fair to return the compliment”

“But Your Highness! That was an outrageous presumption for Waterstone to treat you as an equal.”

Tarkyn smiled, “On the face of it, you would think so. But under the circumstances in which we found ourselves, it was an act of true generosity of spirit for him even to consider getting to know me. But more than that, Waterstone is the first person I ever met who saw me firstly as Tarkyn and secondly, or sometimes not at all, as a prince.”

Tarkyn glanced at Waterstone and a look of understanding passed between them, while Danton mulled this over for some time, clearly struggling in his mind’s eye, to detach Tarkyn from his role. Eventually he asked, “You say the first, not the only person. Are there others who treat you in this way?”

“Yes. And more as time goes by. Autumn Leaves was the next after Waterstone. Thunder Storm mostly does but he gets a bit confused sometimes. Raging Water and Rainstorm do. Ancient Oak does now and, of course, Sparrow. Golden Toad does surprisingly, and possibly now Rushwind. North Wind and Tree Wind are getting there.”

Danton looked pole-axed. “But this is dreadful. All these people seeing you as a mere person. And do all of these people have your permission to attack you?”

“No Danton, not all of them.” Just as Danton was relaxing, Tarkyn added with a little smile, “Only five others.”

Dannton frowned in consternation, “But Your Highness, these rules were made to protect the Royal Family. The monarchy must be detached from the people. Otherwise you will have anarchy before you know what is happening.”

Much to Tarkyn’s surprise, Stormaway rose to his defence. “No, Danton. You need have no fear of that. At first, I too feared for the prince’s consequence. But despite my earlier qualms, Tarkyn is, so far, managing to walk the tightrope between maintaining true friendships with these people and maintaining his status. It is not an easy balancing act by any means. Far easier, in my opinion to keep a distance but, largely due to this woodman here, it is not the path Tarkyn has chosen to take.”

Waterstone raised his eyebrows, “I think you will find that Tarkyn is quite able to assert his authority if he feels the need.”

“The trick is knowing when to do it and how strongly,” added Tarkyn with a wry smile. “And I don’t think I always judge that correctly.” His eyes twinkled, “But I do have a few fail-safes built into my system.”

Danton frowned, “Such as?”

“Such as particular people who will tell me if I am being too harsh or too autocratic. Waterstone, Ancient Oak and Autumn Leaves, to be specific. Oh, and Sparrow, now I come to think of it.”

“And who will tell you if you are being too lenient?” asked Danton.

The prince smiled, “That’s where you and Stormaway come in. You two always have a weather eye out for my consequence. So you see, in our funny way we have advisors from all viewpoints, just as we would have at court.”

Part 3: The Great West Road

Chapter
11

By mid-morning, the woodfolk had left the damaged area far behind them and were strung out along the Great West Road through the forest. Crossing the road undetected was always a major undertaking for a large group. Its width made it impossible to cross via overhanging trees, and their ability to flick into hiding was too short-distanced to take them right across its breadth. Consequently, they had to cross where the road surface was rocky and they would leave no footprints. They chose a straight section of road that curved out of sight about one hundred yards away to the east and disappeared over a hill towards the west. Lookouts were placed on the curve and on the brow of the hill to give warning of approaching travellers.

For over an hour, they remained hidden in the bushes near the roadside waiting for a gap in the flow of small, varied groups of walkers, riders, pack animals and carts. Each time they readied themselves to move, a lookout would signal the approach of another group of people.

“This is so tedious,” whispered Tarkyn to Waterstone.

Waterstone shrugged. “The price of elusiveness.”

“Maybe we’ll have to wait until dark.”

“Unlikely. There’s usually a break, although the traffic is quite constant today.” Suddenly Waterstone put up his hand for silence and froze. As he went out of focus, Tarkyn picked up images of intruders among them.

Tarkyn sent Waterstone an image of Stormaway and Danton with a query. In return, he received an image of them further along, deep in a thicket of hawthorn lying beside Running Feet and Falling Branch.

As Tarkyn waited, he became aware of a ragged, rough individual, long curved blade held in his right hand, who was moving quietly between the trees towards the road not twenty feet from him. The man seemed intent on watching the road and paid little heed to the surrounding woodland. Tarkyn heard a slight sound and realised another ruffian was moving towards the road on the other side of him.

“How many?” mouthed Tarkyn.

Waterstone went of focus for a short time then mouthed eight.

As they watched, a small family appeared over the hill, a teenaged son leading their reluctant, bad-tempered packhorse. The mother and father were in the lead while two daughters walked between them and their son.

Within the trees, the brigands tensed and crept closer. Suddenly, brigands further down the road began to loose arrows. Before thought could intervene, a bronze streak of power flashed out and burnt the arrows in mid-flight and a translucent bronze shield slammed into position around the traveller family. Within the shimmering bronze light, the family cowered in fear and the son struggled to control their plunging packhorse.

Beside Tarkyn, Waterstone rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he received a clear image of the brigands being struck by slingshots. With a resigned shrug, he transmitted Tarkyn’s request to his fellow woodfolk and along the road, eight brigands fell senseless to the ground.

“So now what
,
Your Highnes
s
?” hissed Waterstone.

“Waterstone, I couldn’t let them die.”

“They are nothing to do with us,” exclaimed Waterstone vehemently.

“They are everything to do with me, however.”

Waterstone glowered at him. “You will give us all away. And you will give yourself away and put yourself in danger.”

“Waterstone,” Tarkyn’s voice was calm but firm, “I would never reveal your presence to outsiders. Your oath is my oath. But after the purging the other day, people know I’m somewhere in the area anyway.” He grimaced ruefully at the woodman, “And now I will have to reveal myself to this family. They will already know from the colour of my magic that I am here and I don’t want them thinking I’m attacking them. I’m sorry. I know I haven’t consulted you properly but events overtook us. I will give you these choices though. You can disappear and leave the brigands to wake up and wonder what hit them, you can simply kill them or you can bind them so that we can question them before we kill them.”

Waterstone’s eyes widened, “Wolves’ teeth, Tarkyn. You’re pretty cold blooded about all this. I don’t think you understand. We can kill, and will if someone sees us. But it almost never arises. None of us has ever killed in cold blood when someone is bound and helpless.”

Tarkyn looked at him quizzically. “Well, let’s compromise. You people keep them unconscious until we work out what we want to do – Where are Stormaway and Danton? I think we may need them.” He smiled, “Meanwhile I’m going out there to reassure that panic-stricken family”

“Don’t take long. Be prepared to cut and run if I relay an image from the lookouts.”

“Agreed.”

Leaving Waterstone to organise the woodfolk, Tarkyn disentangled himself from the bushes and stepped out onto the road.

As Tarkyn approached, the packhorse was pulling back on her reins and rolling her eyes in fear at the unexpected noise and light that had erupted around her. Without conscious effort, the forest guardian sent a wave of reassurance that quietened her. His focus was on the family who as one, went down on one knee, hand on heart and bowed their heads when they saw him.

Tarkyn was not impressed. “Stand up. Don’t toy with me. Why are you offering me obeisance if I have been branded as a rogue sorcerer? As I understand it, you no longer owe me your allegiance.”

“We would beg for mercy, my lord.”

“You do not need my mercy,” he said flatly.

“Then why have you have imprisoned us with your shield?” The man glanced fearfully at his wife and then straightened his shoulders and looked directly at the prince. “If you must kill someone, Your Highness, take me and spare my family. We have done you no wrong. Please let us live.”

Tarkyn sighed. “You have no need to fear me. I have no intention of hurting any of you. If I remove the shield, do I have your guarantee that you will not try to harm me?”

The man was shocked, “Your Highness, I wouldn’t dream of it. Of course, none of us would...” A thought struck him and he turned to his teenage son whose set mouth and narrowed eyes boded ill for the prince. “Markel, do I have your word?”

A long silence greeted this request.

“Or would you rather die at the prince’s hand?”

Before the boy could respond, Tarkyn intervened, “Now, just a minute. I did not say I would hurt anyone, let alone kill them if they did not make that guarantee. Fight your own battles with your son. Don’t use me.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord. I truly thought that would be the consequence of non-compliance.”

Tarkyn gave a weary wave of his hand and dissipated his shield, “The shield was never meant to imprison you. It was to protect you from the brigands who were secreted by the side of the road waiting to attack you. Did you not see the arrows?”

The man shook his head and looked uncertainly at his wife before answering, “No, my lord. All I saw was two flashes of bronze light before we were engulfed in your shield.”

“I don’t believe you,” stated the rebellious teenager.

Surprisingly, Tarkyn smiled at him. “Do you know,” he said, “one of my best friends is someone like you? I hope you have the perceptiveness that he has. It goes a long way towards excusing his belligerence. Otherwise, I’m afraid, I will find your rudeness inexcusable.” He looked at the parents, “And do you believe me?”

“Of course we do, Your Highness,” said the woman placatingly.

Tarkyn’s eyebrows flicked together. “Madam, whatever you do in your dealings with me, do not lie and do not humour me. I know my reputation. I will understand if you fear me or doubt me but you will get very short shrift, should you be dishonest with me.” He paused, “Do I make myself clear?” He stared at her for long seconds, giving himself time to transmit a visual message to Waterstone, before saying, “Come. It is unreasonable to expect you to believe me. I will show you.”

He led them off the road to a small clearing where the two brigands who had fired the arrows were now lying unconscious, their weapons a short distance away from them.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” said the fat woman, grunting at the effort of bowing low. She had to straighten and catch her breath before she added, “Instead of doubting you, we should be thanking you for saving our lives.”

Tarkyn frowned. “I did not show you the brigands to elicit your gratitude. But I knew my shield had given away my presence and I didn’t want you to misinterpret my actions, as in fact you did. My reputation is damaged enough, without you assuming that I am out to harm you.”

Just as they were about to turn back onto the road, the son placed his hand on his mother’s arm to hold her back. “Wait a minute. There is another bandit lying over there,” said the teenager, pushing his way around the bushes. Then he spotted the other bandits sprawled unconscious among the trees at regular intervals along the road. His eyes widened, “Oh my stars! Mum, Dad, look at this. He’s killed eight of them.”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “I think you will find they are only unconscious.”

The teenager shrugged, “Dead. Unconscious. That’s not the point. The point is you’ve overcome eight bandits on your own, Your Highness. And they weren’t even in a group. I don’t know of any magic that can attack in several places at once.” He whistled, “That’s amazing!”

“Hmph.” Tarkyn grimaced, aware that he had trapped himself into taking credit for someone else’s efforts but unable to see how to avoid it.

“What are you intending to do with them, Sire, when they wake up? Or are you going to kill them?” asked the father.

Despite what he’d said to Waterstone, Tarkyn felt that being seen as a cold-blooded executioner was not something he wished to add to his already dread reputation. “No. Perhaps if you could assist me in tying them up, we can leave them by the roadside for soldiers to find them.”

“Certainly, Sire. I am sure we can find enough twine in our baggage.” The man addressed his son. “Markel, you bring all the bandits over here,” he said, indicating a shady spot under a tree on the roadside, “And Caris, you get the twine.”

With a muttered incantation, Markel levitated the limp bandits one at a time to the place indicated by his father. By the time he had them all in place, his mother and sisters had returned with twine and between them, the family had the bandits trussed up within a few minutes. The young girls seemed quite phlegmatic about assisting in tying up the unconscious men.

While the family attended to the brigands, Tarkyn walked over to the packhorse and stroked her gently along her neck. He sent her a query and in return received an image of a stone wedged in her hoof.  Tarkyn lifted each of her hooves in turn until he discovered the stone dug deeply into her left rear hoof.

“Markel. Come over here for a minute,” Tarkyn requested quietly.

Once Markel had straightened up and walked over to the prince, Tarkyn showed him the stone wedged in the horse’s hoof, “Next time your horse is unwilling, look for the cause. You have dragged this animal for miles with this stone digging into her hoof. Treat her well and she will serve you well. Treat her badly and she will let you down. Do you have a knife or sharp stick to dig this out with?”

Markel produced the hunting knife he wore on his hip and proceeded to remove the stone without comment. When he had finished, he ran his hand down the horse’s leg and said gently to her, “Sorry old girl. I should have realised something was wrong.” Tarkyn received a wave of relief and thanks from the horse while Markel flicked a glance at him, “Thank you, Sire. I’ll look after her better. I guess we were all tired and I just thought she was sick of the journey.”

By this time, the rest of the family had finished trussing up the brigands. They stood up, dusted down their hands and faced the  waiting prince.

“Your Highness.”

Takyn nodded. “You may introduce yourself to me.”

The father too fave a slight bow before saying “This Caris, my wife, Markel my son, Posy and Mayla, my daughters. My name is Tomasett.”

If Tarkyn was impatient to be on his way, he hid it well and replied, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Where are you travelling to?”

“Sire, I am a miller in the village of South Heading, which lies twenty miles south of Tormadell. We have been visiting some distant relatives and are now returning home.”

“I see. And were you aware that this area is renowned for bandit attacks? It would be better for you and your family to be well away from here before dark.” He considered Markel and his parents. “Can any of you raise a shield and keep it up?”

They looked at each other.

“We can all do it, but not for long. We tend to get distracted and lose concentration,” said Caris.

“Well, do the best you can. Take it in turns. Remind each other to concentrate; whatever works, but keep a shield around your family until you’re well away from here. Understood?”

The father bowed deeply. “Yes, my lord. I thank you for your concern for our safety. Your will is our command.”

“Excuse me, Your Highness,” interrupted Markel, “Is it true that there is a price on your head?”

Tarkyn’s eyes narrowed but he answered almost conversationally, “I have heard that there is. However I think you will find it difficult to overcome me if you’re thinking of taking me captive.”