The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (40 page)

Blizzard looked flustered but didn’t move.

Tarkyn frowned and asked gently, “Is something else wrong? I don’t know what else I can do but apologise to you.”

“No, my lord.” Blizzard cleared his throat, “This is much better than I was expecting. I thought you still were angry with me.” He twisted his hands in his lap and he raised his eyes anxiously to meet Tarkyn’s. “You see, I thought I had betrayed everyone’s honour and I have been feeling terrible about it.”

“Did you not believe me when I apologised at the time? I said then that I should have realized you were trying to do the right thing.”

“I wasn’t sure if trying was good enough.” Blizzard kept wringing his hands. “I often try to do things but when they aren’t good enough, I still get into trouble about them. Just trying to do something has never kept me out of trouble before. It’s only when I succeed that it’s all right.”

Tarkyn began to realize that part of Blizzard’s antagonistic style was bluster to cover his uncertainty. It was becoming apparent that Blizzard struggled to keep up with sharper minds around him. The prince placed a hand over Blizzard’s hands to still them, “Listen to me. I made the mistake, not you. You were very brave to stand up to me when you were doing what you thought was right. Are you clear now what I expect?”

Blizzard nodded, “I think so. I protect you, but if you ask me to do something, I do that then go back to protecting you.”

“Exactly.” The prince took his hand away. “And are you clear about what I think of you?”

Blizzard looked a bit panic-stricken. “Only sort of.”

“In the past we did not agree.” Tarkyn waited until the mountainman nodded, “But now that you have sworn the oath, you have been honourable and shown respect to me and I’m sure that will continue. Clear so far?”

Blizzard nodded, at last looking a little relieved.

“And,” continued Tarkyn, “If you respect me and abide by your oath, then I also will protect you, treat you with respect and help you in any way I can. Clear?”

Blizzard heaved a sigh of relief, “Yes, Sire. And I’m sorry I was rude to you when we first met.” He glanced at the prince and then looked away. “I don’t know if you can understand how many nightmares I had when I was young, about meeting a sorcerer when I was alone in the woods or being attacked by an outsider because I hadn’t taken enough care.”

“I must admit I still have some reservations about your physical roughness with your fellow woodfolk but I do understand why you reacted as you did. It used to scare the life out of me when my mother told me frightening stories about meeting a rogue sorcerer in the woods,” Tarkyn gave a wry smile, “And the funny thing is, now I have been branded one myself.”

Blizard’s brow wrinkled, “What is a rogue sorcerer as opposed to an ordinary sorcerer?”

“Do not be frightened off by this if I tell you, because it is not true of me. Someone has spread untrue rumours about me.” Tarkyn took a breath, “A rogue sorcerer is someone who has a lot of power like me, but is evil or deranged in their use of it - not like me.”

Blizzard considered him for a long time while he thought through everything Tarkyn had done against them with his power. Finally he nodded his head and said slowly, “No. I can see that you are not a rogue. Just.” For the first time, a glimmer of humour showed through, “Though, to be honest, if I thought you were, the last thing I would do is admit it to you.”

“So we are no further forward.” Tarkyn thought for a moment, “Yes we are, because you wouldn’t have said the last bit if you really thought I was a rogue. True?”

“True.”

“Do I gather from what you said earlier that someone or several people are giving you a hard time about yesterday and saying that you have let them down?” asked Tarkyn.

“Bloody old Sighing Wind came back and told Dry Berry and now they are both getting stuck into me. They’re not too happy about what I did with your sorcerer friend either. So one way and another, I am seriously in the shit.”

“Blizzard, you have such a charming turn of phrase.”

The woodman rolled his eyes. “Oh no! Sorry. I’ve stuffed up again, haven’t I? Here I am, trying to be polite to you and look what’s happened. It’s a bloody nightmare.”

Tarkyn laughed, “Being polite to me does not mean you can’t swear. It means you can’t swear at me.”

Blizzard breathed a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s all right then. Because I swear like a stinking town dweller, when I get rattled.”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “I presume town dweller is the ultimate insult, is it?”

“Absolutely. It doesn’t get much worse than that.” Tarkyn watched in amused silence as it dawned on Blizzard what he had said and a dull red crept up over his face. “Oh. I suppose you’re one, aren’t you?”

Tarkyn grinned, “Don’t worry, Blizzard. I know you’re not meaning to be offensive to me. Anyway, I may have been a town dweller once, but not anymore.” He stood up, “Come on. Let’s return to the others. I’ll see what I can do about getting them off your back.”

The prince put a friendly arm around Blizzard’s shoulder as they turned to walk back. At first Blizzard jumped a mile, but then endured it with rigid compliance.

Tarkyn smiled, “Now come on Blizzard. Let’s have some of that courage. We are going to walk back into that clearing looking like old friends but only if you can get that scared rabbit look off your face.”

Blizzard glanced up at him and took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”

“You know Blizzard, I am no more dangerous up this close than I am several feet away. In fact, having my arm around you hampers my ability to cast spells. So you are arguably safer up close.”

“Like me with a bow and arrow?”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows and smiled, “Exactly. So provided neither of us is planning to use a knife, we should both be reasonably safe.”

Blizzard relaxed enough to smile back, “You wouldn’t feel unsafe anyway, would you?”

“Me? Absolutely I would. Without my shield, I’m as vulnerable as the next man. And I probably trust people a lot less than you do. Didn’t you notice me getting bashed up the other day?”

Blizzard actually gave a little laugh, at just the right moment as it turned out, because it meant that as they entered the clearing, he was smiling. “Yes. I did happen to notice that. But I also noticed the eagles and the fact that you recovered quickly.”

“Only the body recovered quickly, Blizzard.” Tarkyn smiled wryly, “That’s why you scored all that anger yesterday.”

Light dawned, “Oh, I see. So when you said you were a little edgy…?”

“I meant I was as jumpy as a wild cat among a pack of wolves.”

Blizzard stopped walking and swivelled around so he could see Tarkyn clearly. Tarkyn’s arm fell naturally from his shoulder. He looked puzzled, “Are you always this honest and open with people you hardly know?”

Tarkyn smiled wryly, “Yes to the first and no to the second. But I owed you an explanation, my friend.” He clapped Blizzard on the back, “Come on. Let’s find ourselves a drink, shall we?”

Blizzard leaned in close to him and whispered, “You don’t have to keep hanging around with me if you don’t want to. Everyone’s seen us now.”

Tarkyn laughed, “You don’t think much of yourself, do you?”

Blizzard was taken aback, “Well, when you put it like that, no, I suppose I don’t. Certainly not enough of myself to think that a legend would want to hang around with me.”

“A what?”

“You know. A real forest guardian.”

Tarkyn gave him a slow smile, “Well if you can deign to drink with a sorcerer, I guess I can put up with drinking with you.”

Blizzard blinked, then hazarded a more daring flash of humour, “When you put it like that, I guess I’m doing you a favour.”

By this stage, their assumed friendship was becoming less contrived, and silent word spread like wildfire that Blizzard had managed to restore the mountainfolk’s uncertain honour.

Chapter
34

Midnight watched Tarkyn returning to the clearing with Blizzard and decided to keep clear. He could still remember the feeling of Blizzard’s boot on his chest holding him down in the cavern. He was slowly beginning to trust Rainstorm and Lapping Water who had both been in the cave when he had first gone to Tarkyn and had made an effort to take Midnight under their wings when Tarkyn was busy, but he was still wary of all mountainfolk.

Midnight tapped Lapping Water on the arm to gain her attention, then pointed to the plaited leather wristband that she wore. He mimed making one and then pointed at Tarkyn who was standing talking with Blizzard on the other side of the clearing

Lapping Water smiled and looked over Midnight’s head to meet Rainstorm’s eyes, “Do you have any leather thonging anywhere?” she asked.

“I expect so,” replied Rainstorm. He disappeared, to return a few minutes later with an assortment of pieces.

Lapping Water helped Midnight to tie off three long pieces of thonging at one end, attached it with a loose knot to a slim low branch and then showed him how to weave the three strands back and forth over themselves to create plaiting. Midnight quickly took over and became absorbed in his self-appointed task. He frequently inspected his work critically and redid any part where he spotted twists or unevenness in the plaiting.

Midnight had just been helped to tie off the other end of his creation when he felt a warning tap on his shoulder and looked up to see Blizzard walking towards them. His convulsive flick into hiding was forestalled by Rainstorm who grabbed him firmly around the waist. Midnight thrashed and twisted but Rainstorm held firm. As Blizzard bent down to hand Lapping Water a goblet of blackberry wine, Tarkyn came into view behind him.

“Oh dear. This is not the way I wanted Blizzard to be greeted,” he murmured quietly.

Even as Tarkyn sent out a wave of reassurance tinged with disapproval, much to his and everyone else’s surprise, Midnight went limp in Rainstorm’s arms. The little boy then sat himself up; his cheeks pink with embarrassment and managed to convey that he had made a mistake.

Once he had handed Rainstorm and Midnight their drinks, Tarkyn sat down and swung Midnight onto his knee.

“Thanks for looking after the young one,” he said. “Has he been trying to run off all the time?”

Rainstorm shook his head. “He’s been quite happy until now. He just got a fright, that’s all.”

As soon as Blizzard was looking the other way, Rainstorm gave Midnight a friendly nudge. When Midnight looked up at him, he nodded in Blizzard’s direction and scowled furiously. Midnight remembered that Rainstorm, too, had experienced a run-in with Blizzard and smiled conspiratorially. Tarkyn glanced at the two of them, took one look at their smiling faces and made sure he kept Blizzard’s attention directed elsewhere.

After a minute or two, Rainstorm rejoined the conversation by asking Tarkyn, “So, have you given Midnight a cup of wine?”

“No, I have not. Midnight’s drink is fruit juice.”

Blizzard looked from one to the other, “I wouldn’t be giving Midnight wine either.”

Ignoring Tarkyn’s triumphant glance, Rainstorm frowned, “Wouldn’t you? But you people are the winemakers. I would have thought your children would learn to appreciate good wine from an early age.”

“Of course they do, but not until nearer bedtime....and not at all tonight if we are leaving soon.”

Tarkyn rolled his eyes, “For a moment there, I thought I had an ally.”

“No,” smiled Lapping Water. “You’re on your own on this one.”

As evening fell, plans were finalized for dealing with the impending arrival of the bloodhounds. If the trackers were really keen, they could conceivably arrive before dawn, although it was more likely that they would not risk injury to their horses by travelling through thick forest at night. Once the woodfolk’s evening meal was over, the firesite was cleared and false trails were laid, leading away from their planned route over the mountains. The sorcerers and the woodfolk then doubled back either by levitation or through the trees respectively, and set up camp up in the huge pines in the foothills of the mountains. The mountainfolk had agreed that they should remain with the home guard until the danger had passed. Until the bloodhounds had been and gone, they would all sleep up in the trees, a prospect Tarkyn looked forward to with some trepidation.

As everyone settled down for the night, Tarkyn wedged himself into the crook of a branch with his legs dangling down either side. He leant forward and rested his head on his arms and tried to go to sleep. But he had never tried to sleep in a tree before. Every time he began to drift off, he would jerk awake, sure that he was sliding sideways and about to crash down through the branches onto the forest floor far below him. He wondered whether Danton was managing any better.

After jerking awake for perhaps the seventh time, Tarkyn felt a jab of irritation directed at him from somewhere above. He grunted and returned a sleepy apology. A small wave of exasperation was followed by the appearance of Waterstone who stood casually on the next branch, one hand on his hip and one hand holding the branch above him.

“You’re a bloody pest, Tarkyn. Every time you wake up, you send a small judder up the whole tree.”

Tarkyn smiled apologetically, “Sorry. I’ve never done this before. It’s harder than I thought it would be and I didn’t think it would be easy.”