The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (15 page)

The belligerent son frowned and shook his head slightly at the prince’s response, “No, Your Highness, even if I thought I could, I would not. I would not be so churlish as to repay your protection of us by betraying you.” He hesitated. “No. I was going to ask what you did that outlawed you.”

Tomasett cut across him, with a fearful glance at the prince. “Markel. Mind your manners. You are speaking to a prince. You can’t just ask whatever you want to.”

Tarkyn waved a hand. “Let him speak. I will answer him.” He drew a breath. “I am not a rogue sorcerer, even though I have been branded one. I have not lost my senses nor am I out of control.” He gave a wry smile. “Of course, I would say that. Truly mad people don’t realise they’re mad, do they? However, I did kill several palace guards. At least six, I think. I’m not sure.” He sighed, “It was not intentional. Something went wrong with my shield and caused it to reflect back the shafts of power they were aiming at me. Then the ricocheting shafts brought down the Great Hall.”

Caris frowned, “But my lord, why were they aiming at you in the first place? Hadn’t you already wiped out a whole stand of spectators at the Harvest Tournament?”

Tarkyn went still. After a moment, he shook his head slightly. “No, Caris, I hadn’t. A shaft of my power hit the bottom of a stand and made it sag a little. Everyone jumped off but no one was even hurt, let alone killed.”

Caris’ eyes narrowed but she said nothing further.

Tarkyn folded his arms. “You may believe me or not as you choose. There is nothing I can do about it. And whether or not I am guilty is of little relevance. My brothers wanted me disarmed and no longer a threat to them as they saw it, in which they have succeeded. I am no longer a factor in the politics at court.”

“And were you a threat to the king, Your Highness?” asked the boy.

“No, Markel. I was always loyal to both of my brothers.”

“And are you still?”

Tarkyn shook his head regretfully. “No. They have lost me, just as I have lost them.”

“So will you challenge them and bring civil war, Your Highness?” asked Tomasett.

Tarkyn looked around himself. “Do you see me at the head of an army?”

“What is now and what may be are not at all the same, Your Highness,” replied the miller with an unexpected flash of acumen. “Begging your pardon, but you have not answered my question.”

Tarkyn glanced over at the bandits to check that they were all still unconscious. None of them was yet moving. He brought his gaze back to meet Tomasett’s clear blue eyes. “Tomasett, provided the king keeps his people well, there will be no challenge from me. I would only ever feel compelled to act if the people of Eskuzor were suffering. For myself, I am content to be away from Tormadell.”

Tomasett raised his eyebrows. “Interesting response, my lord.”

The prince gave a slight smile, “Is it?” Suddenly Tarkyn’s head went up. Even as he received a warning from the lookouts, Tarkyn heard the first faint sounds of another group of people approaching from the west. “I must go,” he said, already moving. “I suggest you also get on your way as quickly as you can. I don’t think you will want the little ones around to witness the soldiers arresting those bandits. The soldiers’ roughness could well frighten them.”

“And will you be all right, my lord?” asked Tomasett. “Do you lack for anything that we could give you?”

Tarkyn hesitated at the edge of the road, “It would be a kindness in you if you did not mention to any soldiers that you have seen me but I would not ask you to persevere in protecting me, should they threaten you.”

“It would be an honour, Your Highness, to protect you in whatever way we can,” replied the miller bowing. “If you should ever need somewhere to stay for a while, you will always be welcome at the South Heading Mill.”

“Thank you, Tomasett,” Tarkyn turned to look at Caris and raised his eyebrows, “However, I’m not sure that your wife would feel too happy with that. Unless I much mistake the case, she does not share your faith in me.”

The sturdy woman folded her arms and glowered at him. “Your Highness, it is rare for folks like us to have truck with people like you and so, I am not good at gauging your merit. But I am not ungrateful. I do know that my family and I owe you our lives and so you are welcome if you come our way, whatever you may have done in the past.”

Tarkyn eyes twinkled, “Thank you, Caris. That is most magnanimous of you.” The sounds of approaching horses had become louder. “I must go. Travel safely.” With that, he turned and threaded his way lithely between the trees, soon lost to their sight in the density of the undergrowth.

As the little family resumed its journey, Caris said “Well, that’s something to tell our friends. Fancy meeting the Rogue Prince… and living to tell the tale.” She turned to her son, “Markel, put your shield around us for the next little while and then I’ll take over.”

“He didn’t seem so bad, did he?” observed her husband.

Caris was thoughtful. “No. No, he didn’t. But you have to ask yourself why he is hanging around an area known for its bandits.”

“What? You don’t think the prince has taken up with brigands, do you? After all, why would he foil their attack on us, if that were the case? He’s probably on his way to somewhere else, the same as we are.”

“Maybe he’s keeping himself busy by protecting travellers from bandits. That’s what he did for us,” suggested Markel. However, unlike Tarkyn, as soon as he began to talk, his shield faded. So this remark was greeted with urgent reminders to concentrate on maintaining his shield.

As they plodded off around the curve in the road, the first horses appeared over the brow of the hill to the west.

Chapter
12

As soon as Tarkyn was out of sight of the road, Waterstone appeared at his side.

“I think we’re too late to question those brigands. A group of soldiers is approaching from the west… probably from the encampment.”

Tarkyn grimaced, “Yes, I thought that might happen but I couldn’t really see what else I could do. I was a bit worried the brigands might come round while the family was still there. At least they were neutralised once they were tied up.” He looked at the woodman, “Thanks Waterstone, for your help.”

Waterstone clapped him on the back and said philosophically, “I guess it was only fair that we helped you to save some sorcerers. You helped us to save woodfolk from the encampment, after all.”

“I don’t know how successful I was in improving my reputation. At least they listened.” Tarkyn gave a wry grin, “But now they think I can knock out eight people in different locations all at once.”

“Yes, I saw that. And I saw you squirming when you took the credit for it too.”

Tarkyn gave a short laugh. “Yes, very embarrassing. Especially when I knew the people from whom I was stealing the credit, were watching.”

Waterstone smiled. “Come on. Let’s find ourselves a vantage point so we can watch the soldiers collect the brigands. We can forget about crossing the road until they’ve gone anyway. So we might as well keep ourselves entertained.”

“Where’s Sparrow?” asked Tarkyn suddenly.

Waterstone frowned. “With Thunderstorm and Creaking Bough and their two kids. Why do you ask?”

Tarkyn shrugged and looked a little sheepish. “I just remembered telling her I would keep her safe when big men on horseback were around. I don’t want her to think I’ve let her down.”

“Well, we can’t have Sparrow with us while we’re watching the soldiers. It might upset her. So it’s one or the other. Either go and be with her, or watch the soldiers taking the bandits away.”

“Maybe you can ask her how she is and whether she needs us?” suggested Tarkyn.

Waterstone shook his head a little. “I know how she is. If I thought for a minute she was feeling unsafe with Thunder Storm and Creaking Bough, I’d be with her now.”

Tarkyn nodded, but even though he said nothing further he still looked uncertain.

“All right.Fine.”Waterstone rolled his eyes, “Far be it from me to get in the way of a concerned uncle. I’ll ask her and tell her you’re worrying about her. Good enough?”

Tarkyn’s face relaxed into a smile, “Thanks.”

Waterstone went out of focus for a couple of minutes. When he returned, he had a wry smile on his face. “You were right. And so was I. She feels perfectly safe but was feeling put out that you hadn’t checked. She’s fine now. She’s in the middle of some complicated game with other two and is quite happy where she is.”

Tarkyn sent her an image of himself with a wave of friendship and reassurance and received back a little ripple of thanks. He smiled at Waterstone, “Good. Now that’s settled, let’s go.”

By the time they had joined Autumn Leaves and Tree Wind in a good vantage point in an overhanging pine tree, the soldiers had already dismounted and were bent over the trussed up brigands. As they turned the prostrate men over and saw their faces, the soldiers looked in consternation at each other.

“What are they doing here?” asked a tough, burly sergeant.

The soldier beside him shook his head. “I have no idea, sir. How could they have got themselves tied up like this?”

In the tree above them, Tarkyn and the woodfolk exchanged  perplexed glances.

Now that their attention had been drawn to it, they could see  that the men’s rags covered up uniforms like those of the encampment guards.

A thin sharp-faced soldier was bending over another brigand, “Sir, here’s Consar. It must be his patrol. He’s out cold.”

The thickset balding sergeant stood up and frowned as he surveyed the group of trussed men. “This is what happened to the perimeter guards; they’ve all been knocked out somehow. Very strange. No obvious wounds. And no one has been killed, just temporarily disabled.”

“Obviously it’s bandits of some kind, sir. The last lot were after the horses. I don’t know what they wanted this time, but I suppose they just stole whatever they could get their hands on.”

The sergeant shook his head. “Very strange bandits - to leave them trussed up like this. Why didn’t these bandits just kill them or leave them lying unconscious while they made their escape? Why leave them neatly tied up by the side of the road?”

“Because, my good sir,” said Stormaway, appearing unnoticed in their midst, “These men are themselves bandits. Some upright citizens captured them and left them for your justice.”

Stormaway was dressed in a heavy padded jerkin and laced leggings with a sumptuous green cloak flung over his shoulders. His hair was mid brown, shoulder length and slicked back. All in all, he had the appearance of a wealthy merchant and was quite unrecognisable as the diffident tailor who had entered the encampment a week ago. This was just as well because when the officer looked at him, Stormaway realised that he was Sergeant Torgan, the gruff friendly guard Danton and he had met on their first day in the encampment.

“What utter nonsense!” declared the sergeant. “These men are fellow soldiers.”

“And how do you explain their dress then?” asked Stormaway with a superior smirk.

Sergeant Torgan frowned but continued gamely, “I can only presume they have been doing undercover work for us, trying to flush out the brigands who have been hounding travellers along this part of the road.”

“Indeed? And does undercover work include attacking a defenceless family?”

The sergeant looked uncertainly at his men then back at Stormaway. He frowned, “What foundation do you have for your accusations, sir?”

Stormaway waved an elegant hand, “Why, I witnessed it with my own eyes. These men were firing arrows at a hapless family as they travelled along the road here.”

Sergeant Torgan straightened up and put his hands on his hips, “Sir, if that is the case, where is the injured family? And where are the arrows?”

“The family have continued on their way unharmed after tying up their attackers. The arrows were burned in mid-air.” The wizard peered around. “You may find some traces of ash, if you look carefully.”

One of the soldiers looked up at him and said disdainfully, “You’re barking mad, you are. What are you talking about? Who’s going to be able to intercept an arrow in mid-flight?”

The wizard rubbed his chin. “Hmm. Let me think. Someone who has very good reflexes. Perhaps the type of person who could win a Harvest Tournament.”

In the tree above him, Tarkyn frowned and leaned over to whisper in Autumn Leaves’ ear, “What is he up to?”

The heavy woodman shrugged and whispered back, “He didn’t bother telling anyone.”

Stormaway wandered over to the spot where arrows had sped towards the travellers and bent down. He gestured to the officer, “Come here. You see? Short, thin lines of ash. How do you explain that?”

Despite appearances, Sergeant Torgan was reasonably astute. He frowned at Stormaway, “So, are you telling me that you have seen the Rogue Prince?”

Stormaway hesitated, “Not directly, but I did see streaks of bronze light that intercepted the arrows. Then the traveller family were encased in a bronze shield for a few minutes until the attack ceased.”

“But who disarmed the brigands then?”

The wizard straightened up. “I will let you draw your own conclusions.”

“Are you telling me that the prince was responsible for disarming these men? All eight of them?” demanded the sergeant.