The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (44 page)

It was only when Midnight raised his red-rimmed eyes and looked about him that he realized he was being held by Tarkyn as the sorcerer floated in the air beside the tree, far above the forest floor. His first reaction was to grab convulsively onto Tarkyn but after that, he peered down and around with great interest. Slowly, a big smile dawned on his face and he gave a little wave to Rainstorm and Lapping Water who were watching from lower down in the pine tree.

As they slowly drifted down to earth, Tarkyn held up his wrist, nodded at the leather wristband and indicated his appreciation. Nearly bursting with pride that Tarkyn was wearing it, Midnight sent him a long-winded, detailed image of himself making it. Once Tarkyn had conveyed his admiration for the effort and skill, Midnight finally remembered to send a casual enquiry about the sorcerers and bloodhounds.

Tarkyn suppressed a smile as he responded by replaying the sequence of events. Only when Midnight saw the number of sorcerers and bloodhounds facing Tarkyn and Danton, did he truly understand the enormity of the danger he had placed Tarkyn in. His eyes grew round, but his horror at the danger was soon replaced by admiration of Tarkyn’s actions, which moved quickly into a calm certainty that Tarkyn would always prevail. Tarkyn’s efforts to disabuse him of this notion were met with smug disbelief. The best the prince was able to achieve was an undertaking from his little admirer that he would never deliberately place him in danger, even though he did think Tarkyn was indestructible.

Midnight clearly thought that Tarkyn’s need for this undertaking was superfluous. He placed his hand over his heart and with his head slightly to one side, raised his eyebrows in a fair imitation of the look of disdain the prince had faced him with two days before. Then, much to Tarkyn’s bemusement, Midnight queried whether Tarkyn had forgotten the oath.

Part 7: The Trappers

Chapter
36

Rainstorm and Lapping Water who had joined them on the ground, burst out laughing.

“What are you laughing at?” demanded Tarkyn.

“That was such a perfect copy of your expression,” grinned Rainstorm. “The gall of the kid to think you might have forgotten the oath. But best of all, he is obviously unaware that disdain is the prerogative of princes.”

This all flowed over Midnight who by this time was engaged in drawing Lapping Water’s attention to the fact that Tarkyn was wearing his wristband.

“I am not disdainful and besides, disdain is not the prerogative of princes,” objected Tarkyn.

“Yes, you are and yes, it is,” replied Rainstorm cheerfully. “You don’t see other people around here with that expression on their faces.”

“I’ve seen many disdainful sorcerers,” said Tarkyn, frowning. “I’m sure I’ve seen Danton looking disdainful.”

Rainstorm chuckled, “Then he must be on his best behaviour with us because I haven’t. The closest expression I’ve seen on him is outrage when he was shocked at our treatment of you.”

“Hmph,” Tarkyn subsided into a small huff.

“I shouldn’t worry about it, Tarkyn,” said Lapping Water kindly. “You generally use it to good effect. You don’t come across as disdainful very often.” She smiled, “But I must admit your disdain was truly breath-taking when you rejected the mountainfolk’s offer to swear the oath.”

“Oh, yes! That was excellent,” agreed Rainstorm enthusiastically. “I wish I could pull off something like that.”

A reluctant smiled tugged at the corners of Tarkyn’s mouth. “Hmph.” Then he grinned, “That was quite good, wasn’t it?” He glanced around anxiously, “I hope none of them is nearby to hear that.”

Lapping Water shook her head, “No. You’re safe.”

“Mind you, that was exactly how I felt.” Tarkyn shook his head a little and frowned, “That they should have had the temerity to think that I would even consider accepting them as liege folk after that, was quite mind-boggling.”

Rainstorm laughed, “I love it when you’re so supremely arrogant. It’s so…so amazing.”

“I am not arrogant,” protested Tarkyn. He smiled ruefully, “I am merely cognizant of my status which clearly, you are not.”

Rainstorm shook his head, “No. The only status you have in my eyes is that of forest guardian but to be fair, that is far more impressive. Princes are born every few years. A forest guardian only comes every four or five hundred years. So it has to be worth more.”

“Well there you are, you see,” said Tarkyn. “Why shouldn’t I show some discrimination in whom I accept to work with me to protect woodfolk?”

Lapping Water laughed, “When you put it like that, it almost sounds reasonable.”

Tarkyn glanced at her but decided, on balance, to say nothing further. Instead he returned his attention to his armful of mischief and, after a firm instruction to stay close, swung Midnight down to walk beside him. They turned their steps to the south once more and began the short trek back to their previous night’s campsite.

As they walked, other woodfolk appeared around them and congratulated Tarkyn on facing down the hunting party. As Danton and Waterstone caught up with them, the woodfolk widened their comments to include Danton.

A short distance down the path, Tarkyn asked, “Why are we not up in the trees again, or spread out as before, carefully covering our tracks?”

Thunder Storm pointed upwards, “Look at the sky.”

Tarkyn looked up and saw heavy dark clouds lowering over the forest.

“Oh. So, are we just going to walk along getting soaked, or are we going to run for cover somewhere?”

Waterstone grinned, “Don’t worry. There’s a shallow cave in a rocky outcrop just a few hundred yards ahead and to the right. I think we’ll make it before those clouds drop their load.”

As he spoke, they could hear the first heavy drops of rain falling on the pine branches far above them. The density of the foliage meant that the water did not at first penetrate to the forest floor. Nevertheless, they all quickened their pace.

A few minutes later, a damp group of woodfolk and sorcerers reached the shelter of the small cave.  They ranged themselves around inside so that they could look out and watch the storm now gathering force outside. They could hear the wind sweeping down the mountain from behind them which meant that the cave, although shallow, offered effective protection. Outside, trees thrashed and bent in the wind, lashed by sheets of driving rain. Even though it was midmorning, the world outside was dull and grey, heavy clouds blocking out the sun. The sky flashed with lightning followed almost immediately by the rumbling of thunder.

Tarkyn glanced at Thunder Storm, tempted to joke by asking him if he had spoken, but he had a suspicion that it might be in bad taste. The fact that no one else made the obvious quip went a long way towards confirming his suspicions.

However, Thunder Storm caught his glance and smiled slowly. “I know what you’re thinking. And no, we don’t comment on each other’s voices. But I hope you’re enjoying trying to decipher mine against the thunder.”

Tarkyn’s frown of concentration betrayed the difficulty he was having in hearing what Thunder Storm was saying. As Thunder Storm continued to talk inconsequentially about the storm and the journey ahead, Tarkyn struggled more and more to hear what he was saying. Suddenly he realized that the woodman was deliberately pitching his voice to obscure it in the sounds of the storm.

Tarkyn stopped concentrating, sat back and laughed, “You’re a bugger, Thunder Storm. My ears are nearly falling off trying to follow what you’re saying.”

Thunder Storm grinned broadly, joined by all but Midnight who had no idea what was going on. Tarkyn sent a brief image explaining that he couldn’t hear Thunder Storm above the noise outside but it was beyond him to explain why.

As time passed, there was no sign of the storm abating and the temperature had dropped considerably. Since they had left in such a rush, most of them had brought neither cloaks nor provisions with them. Running Feet, Summer Rain and Autumn Leaves had followed more slowly and had brought their packs. So there were some meagre rations that they could share out amongst everyone.

Tarkyn looked at Danton, “Can you create heat?”

Danton grimaced, “I can but I don’t think I can keep it up for long. What about you?”

Tarkyn shook his head, “Fireballs, yes. Ongoing heat, no. A bit all or nothing with me, I’m afraid.”

“What about that bronze flame you had in your hand at the oath taking?” asked Autumn Leaves.

“No. That’s just an apparition. There’s no heat to it.”

Rainstorm brightened, “Don’t worry. One or several of us can dash out, grab some wood and even if it’s wet, one of you could light it and we can get a fire going. What do you think?”

Tarkyn nodded, “Sounds feasible. Who’s going?”

“I will,” said Lapping Water immediately.

Tarkyn couldn’t repress his frown of consternation in time for it to go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rainstorm.

Danton smiled knowingly as Tarkyn waved his hand and said, “Nothing. Just leave it. Anyone else going too?”

Rainstorm looked at him uncertainly, but said, “I’ll go.”

Tarkyn glanced down to find Midnight tugging at his sleeve, querying what was happening. Once it was explained to him, he pointed to himself and then outside. After a brief exchange of assurances, Tarkyn agreed.

The three of them took a deep breath and dashed out into the driving wind and rain.

“So what was that all about?” asked Waterstone curiously.

Danton grinned, “Unless I’m much mistaken, Tarkyn is still taken aback sometimes when women offer to do physical or dangerous tasks.”

Waterstone raised his eyebrows in astonishment, “Are you? But surely women in your society do physical work, don’t they?”

Tarkyn smiled faintly, “Possibly. But not in the circles I moved in.” His smile broadened, as he thought about the women at court in their elaborate, fulsome dresses, “No. I can think of no women in my past who would have conversed with me one minute and dashed off to fight the elements or swing through trees or do anything at all physical or dangerous, the next. They may have taken a gentle stroll or ridden horses, but very decorously.”

Waterstone frowned, “So, if they didn’t do anything, what did they find to talk about?”

“People, intrigue, rumours, the latest fashions” answered Danton, his eyes sparkling with animation.

“What are fashions?” asked North Wind.

Danton blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Fashions are different ways of wearing clothes that change from time to time. There are also fashions in the types of food you eat, even in some manners and activities. So, if you came to court you would make sure you were wearing the latest fashion and knew how to play the latest games and dance the latest dances.”

The woodfolk all exchanged glances.

“I suppose our kids have crazes on playing particular games,” said Thunder Storm slowly.

“And what did they do with their old clothes then?” asked Running Feet.

“I don’t know. Gave them away to the poor, used them as rags.” Danton waved his hand airily, “You would not wish to be seen in the same outfit too often.” He smiled wistfully, “I like to think I was quite a leader of fashion.”

Waterstone glanced at him then glanced away, beginning to understand the true import for Danton of being required to wear woodfolk garb. He decided to move the conversation on, before Danton had too much time to reflect on what he had lost.

“So Tarkyn, what would you have thought if any of those women at court rushed out into the rain to fetch the wood?”

Tarkyn glanced sideways at him, “Truthfully? I would have been shocked by their unruly behaviour.”

“So, do you disapprove or find it offensive when our woodwomen do more than sit around and talk?”

“No. The context and the expectations are so completely different. No, in fact I find I like it. I am just caught out sometimes.” Tarkyn grimaced, “If anything, I am perplexed. In our society, neither of us would stand by and allow a woman to go out into that rain. We would insist on bearing any discomfort. But I am reasonably sure that protectiveness of that nature would be regarded with disdain by woodwomen.”

Waterstone scratched his head, “Well, I don’t know. Any of us would be grateful if you offered to do something for us.”

“Lapping Water wasn’t when I offered to carry her water for her one time.”

“Probably the prince thing,” said Autumn Leaves. “She might accept more readily now she knows you better and we’re not all on tenterhooks waiting for you to tell us what to do all the time.”

The conversation was curtailed at this point by the noisy, wet return of Rainstorm and Lapping Water as they dodged into the cave and dropped large bundles of sodden wood in the middle of the floor.

“Well done, you two,” said Waterstone. “Where’s Midnight?”

Rainstorm shrugged unconcernedly. “I don’t know. I expect he’ll be along in a minute.” He shuddered, “I’m freezing. It’s nice and warm in here though. Have you been pouring out heat while we’ve been away?” he asked Danton.

Danton smiled and nodded.

“So you have!” exclaimed Thunder Storm. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t cold any more. Well done. Thanks.”

“A pleasure,” replied Danton. “But now, if you organize your wood, Tarkyn can take over and blast a little fireball into it and get a fire started.”

By the time they had half the wood piled to one side and the rest in a neat pyramid in the middle, Tarkyn was beginning to worry about the non-appearance of Midnight. Just as he had decided he would have to head out into the rain to look for him, the little boy staggered into sight, dragging an enormous long branch along the ground. Rainstorm dashed back out to help him drag it over the last few yards. They brought one end in so that it could be fed gradually onto the fire and left the other end sticking out in the rain.

Midnight glowed with pride as everyone expressed their  admiration at his enormous branch and Tarkyn ruffled his hair. When everything was ready, Tarkyn sent a small but intense fireball into the wet wood. It caught alight instantly and its cheery light and heat filled the cave.

As they settled down to wait out the storm, Tarkyn spotted Autumn Leaves leaning back against the wall of the cave and closing his eyes. He remembered what Dry Berry had said and leaned over to the heavy woodman, “Autumn Leaves, are you all right? Is your head aching?”

Autumn Leaves opened his eyes, screwing them up as the light from the fire struck them, “Yes, it is hurting again, especially after all that running around.”

“I’m sorry. Dry Berry did mention it when we first arrived, but with everything that happened, I forgot to seek you out. Would you like me to help now?” When Autumn Leaves nodded, Tarkyn looked around, “Summer Rain, why would Autumn Leaves still be having headaches after all this time?”

The woodwoman shook her head, “I don’t know. Perhaps you should go into him and relay information to me. Look for anything that appears swollen or out of place.”