The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (38 page)

“That means they could arrive here and we would be unable to attack them to defend ourselves as we did with the wolves,” rumbled Thunder Storm.

“But equally, the bloodhounds can’t attack you from within a shield, although they could get up very close before the shield was removed,” said Tarkyn.

“But you can attack from within your shield,” pointed out Rainstorm.

“Yes, I can, but that is using magic.” Tarkyn shrugged, “Besides, being able to perform more than one lot of magic at once is a skill I’ve only recently developed and I don’t think other magic users can do it.” He smiled reminiscently, “Holding up several branches at once to be repaired taught me that.”

“But couldn’t one huntsman hold up the shield, and another use magic to attack?”

Tarkyn shook his head decisively. “No one can penetrate another person’s shield, from without or from within. Anyway, as long as we have warning of their advent, we can be long gone before they get here.”

“We still have the problem of keeping the trackers away from Tolward’s house,” put in Danton.

Tarkyn smiled, “Yes, we do. But I think our young friend has come up with another idea that might just work.”

Rock Fall shook his head in amazement, “Far from being the fool we all thought him, this child’s mind is bursting with ideas. No wonder he gets up to so much mischief.”

Midnight had lost interest in the proceedings at this stage and had settled down on a patch of dirt, trying to draw the sorcerer’s house he had seen in the images.

“So what’s his idea this time?” asked Rainstorm.

“That I ask the wolves to run up and down along the sorcerer’s side of the ridge so that their scent frightens the bloodhounds from that side and masks the trail down to the house. No need to endanger the wolves. They can be gone long before the hounds arrive.” Tarkyn looked around, “Will that work, do you think?”

Thunder Storm pushed his son off his knee and directed him to go and play with Midnight before saying, “Yes, I think so. The scent of the wolves will make them shy away from heading down the slope, especially since the trail will still continue along the top of the slope.”

Despite his intentions of avoiding conflict, Tarkyn could not resist flicking a snaky glance at Waterstone and saying, “Of course it will require me to capitalize on having broken the wolf’s spirit.”

Waterstone didn’t give an inch. “Having imposed your authority on the wolf as you have on the rest of us, you might as well make use of it.”

The air sizzled with tension. Midnight looked up, alarm in his eyes. Tarkyn tried to send reassurance to the little boy but Midnight could feel the tension and glanced at Tarkyn then at Waterstone. He pointed to both of them, then with his head tilted in query, wrapped his hands around each other in his gesture of friendship. Tarkyn nodded firmly.

Midnight looked a query at Waterstone who let out a breath and said, “Of course I am. I just can’t stand hierarchies.”

Tarkyn grimaced, “You weren’t angry at the wolf for imposing its leadership on the rest of the pack. Why pick on me for imposing it on him?”

“I would have thought that was obvious, Tarkyn. The wolf did not impose his leadership on us.”

“Neither did I, if you remember,” snapped Tarkyn. “My role was imposed on me as much as it was on you. And in case you haven’t figured it out, imposing leadership does not necessarily mean breaking someone’s spirit.”

Before any more could be said, Tarkyn stood up and strode out of the clearing, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Midnight watched him leave but knew better than to go near an angry adult. So he returned to playing with Rain on Water, to watch and wait.

Chapter
31

After a short pause, Rainstorm said with spurious cheerfulness, “So it’s great, isn’t it, that Tarkyn can depend on our support when he’s going through a difficult time.”

“There are moments,” said Waterstone through gritted teeth, “when you live on borrowed time.” He heaved a sigh, “He doesn’t let much pass him by, does he? I made one snide remark, must be a week ago now, and he’s been fretting over it ever since.”

Autumn Leaves shifted position to get more comfortable, “That’s because he knew and you knew that it meant something more than was said.”

Rock Fall listened to this exchange with some concern. “He hasn’t broken anyone’s spirit, has he? What have we let ourselves in for?”

Waterstone waved his hand dismissively, “No, of course he hasn’t. He hasn’t even come close. In fact he spends more time carefully preserving everyone’s autonomy.”

Rock Fall grunted, “Can’t say that’s impression I’ve had. Poor old Blizzard. Threw him around like an empty wine keg, then bellowed at him for disobedience when Blizzard was just trying to protect him. Ordered us all to be nice to Midnight when we’ve had nothing but grief from him for years.” He shrugged, “The prince seemed friendly enough when we were mucking around with the slingshots but mostly he’s pretty distant and formal. Still, I suppose that’s what princes must be like. Hopefully, we won’t have to have too much to do with him.”

The woodfolk around him were so non-plussed by this speech that none of them knew where to start in rectifying Rock Fall’s impression. After a stunned silence, in the way of things, they all started talking at once.

Rock Fall held up his hands, “Whoa. Sorry I said anything. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“We’re not upset,” replied Lapping Water. “That is, we’re not angry with you. I suppose we are upset that you have the wrong impression of Tarkyn.”

“I can see why, though,” added Ancient Oak. “He was pretty harsh with Blizzard in the caves, much worse than he has been with any of us.”

Rainstorm nodded, “Yep. I must admit he was fearsomely angry for a moment there.”

Autumn Leaves and Waterstone looked at each other and had a quick mental conference before Waterstone said, “We are in a bit of a dilemma here. We can explain Tarkyn’s behaviour, at least to some extent, but we’re worried that it will be a betrayal of his confidence.”

After another short conference, Autumn Leaves continued, “Because you and Cavern are the only mountainfolk to make the effort to join this group, we’ll tell you. But only if you don’t go around telling everyone else.”

Rock Fall and Cavern looked intrigued but agreed readily enough. Autumn Leaves took a deep breath and let it out, “Tarkyn was badly hurt by that attack. As soon as he was out of sight of you all, he virtually collapsed. He has been angry and jumpy ever since. He is very wary of trusting people at the best of times and despite the oath you gave him, he is nowhere near trusting any of you yet. He appears formal because he does not yet feel safe among you. If you think back, he wasn’t formal or distant with Dry Berry when he first saw her.”

Rock Fall nodded reluctantly, “True.”

“Yes, I had forgotten that,” said Cavern in her strangely reverberating voice.

“At least reserve your judgement about him,” added Waterstone. “What you’re seeing now is the aftermath of the attack.”

Lapping Water placed her hand on Rock Fall’s arm, “If you think about how he behaves with Midnight and how he is with us, that’s more like his usual self. Although even with us, a fight between Waterstone and him has blown up out of nowhere.”

Waterstone grimaced, “I’m afraid I didn’t help matters. I could have backed down and apologised for my previous remark but didn’t. I’m pretty rattled at the moment myself. I’ve always hated the whole business with the oath and I find the degree of magical power that Tarkyn can unleash if he chooses very unnerving. Watching the absolute control Tarkyn exerted over that ferocious animal is what prompted my remark about breaking the wolf’s spirit in the first place. And when I see unbridled displays of his power, I can’t help thinking that if he chose to behave that way, that could be me or any of us.”

“That was us, the other day,” Rock Fall pointed out.

“Yes, but quite frankly, you deserved it,” said Rainstorm flatly. “Bashing up Tarkyn, jeering at him, beating up Danton, and even more unforgivably, attacking two of your own, Summer Rain and me.”

“So it’s acceptable for them to attack Tarkyn and me, is it?” demanded Danton.

“No, it is not,” snapped Rainstorm, “But from the point of view of woodfolk unused to sorcerers, it is more understandable.”

Just as things were beginning to overheat, a gentle wash of humour swept around them and they turned to find Tarkyn leaning against a tree smiling wryly.

“I’m sorry I was snaky, Waterstone. I just can’t seem to exert that total control you’re so worried about, over myself. So little bits of anger keep leaking out all over the place.”

Waterstone gave a grunt, “I too am sorry, Tarkyn. Rainstorm is right. Now is not the time to fall out with you. I suppose we are all a bit edgy at the moment.”

Tarkyn’s eyes lit up. “Have you noticed how often Rainstorm is right about things? He is an ornery bastard sometimes, but he’s usually right.” He sent a little wave of friendship specifically to Rainstorm, as he smiled around the group, “Now, if you could keep yourselves from each others’ throats for a little while longer, I’ll borrow Running Feet again to see whether I can politely ask the wolf pack leader for assistance.”

Waterstone’s eyes narrowed, aware that he was being teased, “And if he refuses?”

Tarkyn smiled and gave a little bow, “If you will permit me and if it does not offend your sensibilities too much, I will have to resort to bluff over such a long distance since I am quite unable to exert any real power.”

“You outfaced him last time, long before he came anywhere near your magic. So I am sure you can do it again this time.”

Tarkyn became quietly serious, “And yet, I truly do hesitate to do that, Waterstone, if it is going to upset you. I do want to protect that sorcerer family but I’m sure we can think of another way, if we have to.”

Waterstone’s eyes gleamed in appreciation, both at the offer and at the tactics. “No. Time is short. Stick with this plan. The damage, if there is any, has already been done.”

Tarkyn considered him for a moment. “Very well, but I will only agree to doing this if you are with me, tuning in to my exchange with the wolf. Then you can satisfy yourself that I am not breaking this animal’s spirit or if you think I am, can intervene and stop me. – Agreed?”

Wryly aware that the situation had been reversed so that he was now persuading Tarkyn to do something he had previously disapproved of, Waterstone reluctantly nodded agreement.

As they left the clearing, Tarkyn checked briefly with Midnight but the little boy was happy to stay where he was in the corner with Rain on Water.

With one woodman guiding the direction and another monitoring his intent, Tarkyn sent his mind roving into the western forests searching for the fearsome, feral mind of the wolf. Tarkyn tuned into him just as the pack leader and a group of five other wolves were mounting an attack on a hapless red deer. The three men watched with the lead wolf’s fierce intensity as the wolves circled the deer. Then, a brief flicker of command radiated from the pack leader and the wolves sprang at the deer with business-like aggression. The men could feel the sharp teeth of the lead wolf biting into the strong neck muscles of the deer and tasted the dusty, bristly coat and the blood. They saw the close proximity of the other wolves’ fangs and yellow eyes, and felt the weight of the deer on neck and jaw as the animal was dragged down.

As Tarkyn pulled his mind away from the wolf’s, he was left with a faint impression of sneering derision. He looked a little pale, “I’m afraid my lupine associate is now thinking that I am faint-hearted.” He gave a wry smile, “There may be some truth in that. I have to admit I did not relish the idea of partaking in a freshly killed, uncooked meal of blood, bone and flesh, complete with fur and gristle.”

Tarkyn was pleased to notice that the two woodmen also looked a little unwell.

“No,” said Running Feet, “I don’t think I could have stood that for too long. Besides, you would have had to exert enormous force to pull him away from his lunch. He has such a harsh, focused mind, doesn’t he? You’re better off waiting until he’s sated.”

“Then he’ll probably be too full to move,” pointed out Waterstone.

Tarkyn grimaced, “True. Bad timing, isn’t it? How far is he from Lord Tolward’s house on the grasslands, Running Feet?”

“I can’t be sure, but I would say a good twenty miles further east. What do you think, Waterstone?”

“Yes, at least that. They have returned to their homelands deep within the western forests.”

“Twenty miles!” exclaimed Tarkyn. “They’d never make it to Lord Tolward’s with a safe enough margin for disappearing before the bloodhounds arrive, anyway.” He ran his hand through his hair, “Blast it! Now what are we going to do?”

“You could send in a horde of rats to drive the sorcerers out of their house before the trackers arrive,” said Waterstone, “but young Winguard won’t be able to get far with his broken leg.”

“And the trackers will still know I have been in the house.”

“At the very least, you can alert their farm dogs to make a fuss and give them advance warning of the bloodhounds. After all, your sorcerer friend knew about these bloodhounds, didn’t he?” asked Running Feet.

Tarkyn grimaced. “Yes, he did. But I don’t think he expected them to be used so quickly or to bring danger right to his door.”