The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (28 page)

Tarkyn considered briefly. “I’ve never tried but I can’t imagine I would do very well. Bats use sound not vision, don’t they? And I can’t send or receive sound.”

“No. Bats can see. They just use sound to augment their vision.”

“Oh. In that case, which way do the caves lie? I need to know where to direct my mind.” Once Tarkyn had the direction clear, he placed his hand on Waterstone’s shoulder to steady himself. “This could be quite tricky, maintaining the shield and finding a bat at the same time.” He took a deep breath, focused on the shield then carefully placed its maintenance to one side in his mind. Then he sent his mind out towards the mountains in the direction of the caves. He let himself wander into a large cavern before homing in on a little mind, high up on the ceiling. He nudged it and gave it a picture of Danton and the two woodmen. There was a response of willingness and suddenly, Tarkyn’s mind was flitting through inky blackness. He could feel the movement but couldn’t see more than vague shadows in the darkness. He felt the cool of the caves and then the chilling breeze as the bat flew out into the open air. For a minute or two, the light dazzled him and when he felt himself swoop inside out of the breeze, he had no idea where the bat was. While the bat’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, it used its sonar to discern its surroundings. It was already transmitting excitement and satisfaction even as Tarkyn began to make out three indistinct heaps in the dimness of a shelter. Tarkyn spoke carefully, trying to stay in touch with the bat. “I think it may have found them. They look very still, though. I can’t tell whether they are dead or alive… and I don’t know where they are.”

Waterstone made a slight movement but before he could say anything, Tarkyn rushed on, “It is not because of my navigational skills… at least not only that. It’s because the bat carried on regardless, while its eyes adjusted to changes in light but during those times I couldn’t see what was happening.”

Waterstone smiled to himself at Tarkyn’s defensiveness but responded seriously, “Ask the bat to fly out into the sunlight again but to fly in circles until your eyes adjust. Then, when you have had a clear view of where our friends are being kept, ask it to come here.”

Following Waterstone’s suggestion, Tarkyn was able to get an image of a shelter and its location as the bat flitted up, into and around the surrounding trees before returning to him. Tarkyn conveyed his thanks to the little creature as it swept over his head with a series of high pitched squeaks, and up into the deep shade of a nearby beech tree.

Tarkyn glanced across at the mountainfolk before addressing his own woodfolk, gathered within the dome of his translucent bronze shield. “They’re in a shelter, not far away.  How are we going to do this? How can woodfolk outwit woodfolk? The lookouts will see any of you who tries to sneak up on the shelter. Quickly! What can we do?”

The woodfolk looked at each other and went out of focus. After a very short conference, they returned their focus to Tarkyn.

“I’m afraid you will have to do it, Tarkyn,” said Thunder Storm, “If you don’t mind,” he added hastily.

“Have to do what?”

“You will have to negotiate with the mountainfolk, using your eagles, your magic and us, as backup.” Thunder Storm shrugged, “The only safe way is for you to hold them all to ransom, so to speak.”

Tarkyn frowned fiercely. For a moment, Thunder Storm thought he was going to have to endure another tongue-lashing but Tarkyn wasn’t even thinking about him. He nodded abruptly. “Agreed. Let’s move closer to them. I just have to get the order right. I keep the shield up all the time in case lookouts in the trees try to fire on us, use th
e
Shturru
m
spell to immobilise them, then call off the eagles so that we can hear ourselves speak.”

Once they were close enough, Tarkyn focused on his shield, placed it firmly in the corner of his mind and then waved his hand, incanting,
“
Shturru
m
!” With the mountainfolk now motionless before him, he requested the raptors to return to the trees.

He waited until the birds of prey had settled quietly in the branches nearby. Then, carefully holding the two spells in place, he asked, “Can you see where the lookouts are?”

After a moment, Autumn Leaves reported, “We can see three of them. The other one must be around the other side somewhere. There may be others nearer the shelter where Danton, Rainstorm and Summer Rain are being held.”

“Right. I’ll keep the shield up then.” Tarkyn turned to address the stationary mountainfolk. “You should have killed me while you had the chance. Now, I will make this very simple for you. We who stand within this shield cannot be harmed by any of you. I, on the other hand, can ask the raptors to attack you or can attack you myself. To secure your safety, you must send a message to the lookouts to retrieve our friends. None of you will be released until they do this. If any of our friends is dead, the slayer’s life will be forfeit. When we have our friends safely back with us, we will consider what to do next.”

Chapter
22

It seemed an eternity before three woodfolk arrived carrying the inert bodies of Danton, Rainstorm and Summer Rain. The two woodfolk were placed carefully on the ground but Danton was dropped unceremoniously. His hands were tied and his face carried the marks of a beating.

Tarkyn dragged his eyes from them and demanded of the lookouts, “What have you done to them?”

The mountainman shrugged disparagingly, “They have been knocked out by a slingshot.” He scowled at the woodfolk within the shield, “You people are a disgrace to the woodfolk nation, allowing a sorcerer to live among you. It is bad enough to have to endure this prince, but at least you had an excuse for that. This man,” he said, nudging Danton’s still form with his boot, “has killed our kin. We will try him and he will be summarily executed, just as he executed our kin. My name is Blizzard.”

“Get over there with your kin,” ordered Tarkyn.

“You can’t order me around,” snarled Blizzard.

“Just watch me,” replied Tarkyn. With an effort, he held his two spells as he incanted,
“
Liefk
a
” and lifted the unpleasant woodman into the air. “At least this one deserves it,” he said in an aside to Running Feet. He swung his arm until the woodman was hovering above his kin then dropped him from a height of eight feet. The lookout landed on several motionless woodfolk who all toppled to the ground, unable to move to save themselves. The other lookouts decided that discretion was the better part of valour and moved around to join their kin to avoid the same fate. When Tarkyn was sure they were all gathered together, he released his shield, placed it over the mountainfolk instead and released the paralysis spell. As an outpouring of rage issued forth from the mountainfolk, Tarkyn simply incanted,
“
Shturru
m
” again and immobilised them again.

Then he swept cold eyes over them and spoke in a low voice that was flat with anger. “Let me make one thing clear. Lord Danton is not responsible for the deaths of your kin. I am. I ordered it. He obeyed. The responsibility lies only with me. If you had taken the time to ask your fellow woodfolk, you would know that he placed his life on the line for woodfolk against sorcerers to retrieve Golden Toad and his family. He does not deserve this treatment from you.”

As he spoke, Waterstone was kneeling beside Danton, untying his bonds and wiping his face with a damp rag. He looked up at Tarkyn, “I think someone has kicked him in the face. He may have a broken cheekbone.”

Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair, “What has it come to, that woodfolk can be so malicious? You have destroyed all my belief in the honour and gentleness of woodfolk.” He paused, “No. That is not true. I still believe it of most woodfolk but it seems the mountains breed a tougher, harsher style of woodfolk.” He waved his hand and released the paralysis spell again. “If you can contain yourselves, I will leave you free to move within my shield. Otherwise, I will freeze you again. Either way, you are under my complete control and will remain so until I see fit to release you.”

“May I say something?” asked Autumn Leaves.

“Of course.”

Autumn Leaves turned to address the mountainfolk. “When Danton appeared in the woodlands seeking out Tarkyn, we were preparing to rescue Golden Toad and his family from a huge sorcerer encampment. We knew some sorcerers had already seen woodfolk and in view of that, we thought that we might as well ask Danton to help us. He has sworn an oath on pain of death not to reveal our presence to anyone. Since then, he has had many chances to betray us and has not done so. Without his help, we would have found it very difficult to release Golden Toad and his family.” Autumn Leaves looked thoughtfully at the captive woodfolk. “I have known most of you for many years. We have shared hard winters and fruitful summers together. Do not follow Blizzard’s lead and condemn us out of hand. Surely none of you who knows Waterstone or Thunder Storm could believe for a moment that they would jeopardise the welfare of our people.”

“I think you’re rather missing the point here,” sneered Blizzard from within Tarkyn’s shield. “Two of our kin were slain here today… by a sorcerer.”

Autumn Leaves shook his head. “No. It is you who are missing the point. The only reason it was a sorcerer who killed your kin was that Tarkyn asked him to do it to save us the dilemma. If we had not been drugged during your kinsmen’s attack on Tarkyn, we would have killed them ourselves.”

“Of course you would have. You are bound by the oath.”

“Yes, we are. But the time has long since passed that our care for Tarkyn sprang solely from the oath.” Autumn Leaves frowned impatiently. “Don’t you understand? Your people attacked Waterstone’s brother, Ancient Oak’s brother, Sparrow’s uncle. He is one of us.”

“But that other sorcerer is not,” retaliated Blizzard.

“No, he is not,” said Autumn Leaves slowly. “But maybe he  should be.”

Dry Berry pushed her way to the front. “So, young man, what are you going to do now? You can’t keep us in here indefinitely.”

Tarkyn looked at her dispiritedly. “I don’t know, Dry Berry. What do you suggest?”

Dry Berry raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Hmm. Perhaps you do negotiate. Give us a few moments to confer. I’ll get back to you.”

Tarkyn waved a hand, “Have as long as you like. I need to heal my friends.” So saying, he turned away from the mountainfolk and knelt beside Summer Rain.

“I thought you couldn’t concentrate to heal yourself, let alone someone else,” said Waterstone.

“I don’t have to deal with the memories of the attack that flood up when I’m trying to heal myself. I think I’ll be able to focus on them.” Tarkyn closed his eyes, made sure he had the shield securely in the corner of his mind and then, ignoring the mountainfolk completely, drew power up from inside himself to flow through his hand into Summer Rain’s shoulder. It did not escape the notice of the mountainfolk that Tarkyn healed the woodfolk before the sorcerer. Almost immediately, Summer Rain stirred and opened her eyes. Tarkyn moved straight on the Rainstorm and soon he too was sitting up and looking around.

The young woodman frowned, “Prince, what are we doing here? What’s happened to Danton?” He looked stricken, “Oh no, prince. I was supposed to protect him and now look at him.”

“It’s all right Rainstorm,” said Tarkyn gently. “No one is blaming you. We just set you too hard a task.” He turned to Summer Rain, “Can you look at Danton for me please? Waterstone says he may have a broken cheekbone.”

The healer examined his cheek carefully before releasing a long sigh. “No. I think the cheekbone is intact. Perhaps if you go in, I’ll direct you where to look. He will need some healing to reduce the bruising in that area anyway. I’m more concerned about this heavy bruising over his temple. I hope he comes around all right.”

Tarkyn followed his power into Danton, and using Summer Rain’s instructions, sought out Danton’s bruised temple. He found signs of trauma both inside and outside Danton’s skull. He worked carefully to dissipate the blood that had flowed into the surrounding tissue and made sure the capillaries were repaired. Then he flowed around Danton’s bruised cheek and repeated the process there. He flowed back out and returned to himself just as Danton began to come to.

“Hello,” said Tarkyn, leaning over him, “How are you feeling?”

Danton’s eyes swam into focus. His hand went instinctively to his cheek but as he discovered only a slight soreness, frowned in confusion. “I thought that would be sorer. The last thing I remember is a booted foot coming towards my face.” He glanced up at Tarkyn, “Is that your doing?” When Tarkyn nodded, he thanked him briefly, then sat up and took in the scene around him, “Hmm. Events have moved on a bit, I see. Not going too well, by the look of things.”

“No. Rather badly, actually. I’m afraid I had to be quite directive in my requirements to have you, Rainstorm and Summer Rain returned to us,” said Tarkyn. “Autumn Leaves has just been extolling your virtues to the mountainfolk but I suspect it will take more than that to reconcile them to you. I’m sorry, Danton. I should have realised sooner the danger I had placed you in.”

“So what’s happening now?”

“They are working out what we should all do next.” Tarkyn shrugged, “I don’t have any bright ideas and I’m sick of employing strong arm tactics. So I’ve left them to come up with a solution.”