The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (64 page)

“Thank you, Your Highness,” said Trey. “We are truly honoured to be accepted into your service and will do all we can to further your cause.”

Tarkyn received an image of woodfolk grinning with mirth all around him. He gave his head a little shake and returned his attention to the people kneeling before him.

“Please rise. Thank you for your loyalty but please remember that you will not further my cause by plotting to make me king. You will further my cause by looking after yourselves and working to protect all sorcerers.”

As he finished speaking, Danton walked into the clearing and bowed, “You asked for me, Your Highness?”

Vaska frowned, “You are certainly most magical, Your Highness, much more so than any other sorcerer I have met. How did you summon your retainer?”

Ignoring the question, Tarkyn smiled, “Allow me to introduce Lord Danton. He is more skilled than I with directions and will hopefully be able to explain to you how to reach Lord Tolward’s holding. Danton?”

“Yes, my lord. I believe I can do that.”

As Danton explained the route they would need to take, Stormaway arrived rather breathlessly and grumbled at Tarkyn, “Your Highness, these climbs up and down mountains are not good for a man of my advanced years. I am to tell you that if these sorcerers remain here for the night, provisions will be delivered to them before morning.”

“Thank you Stormaway. I apologise for your inconvenience.”

“Hmph. I think you have done enough apologising for one day.”

Before long, all arrangements had been made and it was time to leave.

“Thank you for your tea and for the news of support that you have brought me. Please do not try to follow me. I promise I will visit you at Lord Tolward’s in the spring.”

Just as the prince was leaving the clearing, Lorin ran up to him with a small brooch in her hand. She curtsied and offered it to him. “Please accept this as something to remember me, us, by.”

Trey frowned furiously in the background but Tarkyn’s eyes twinkled as he accepted it solemnly, “Thank you, Lorin. I will keep it to remind me of my promise to protect the sorcerers of Eskuzor.”

Chapter
52

As soon as Tarkyn, Danton and Stormaway were out of sight and earshot of the sorcerer family, String, Bean and woodfolk appeared all around them.

Tarkyn beamed, “Hello everyone. I am so glad to see you all. I’m sorry if I worried you. I got lost, you see. I fell over a ledge and when I came to, I didn’t realise I wasn’t on the same path.” He looked around, “Where’s Waterstone? Waterstone, I know I didn’t have my shield up when you arrived but I promise you I had it up for a long time until I was completely sure they were safe.” He told them about his machinations with the two shields just to reach his cup of tea. He laughed, “You see, I didn’t take any chances, even though it meant making an absolute idiot of myself.”

Waterstone smiled and thumped him on the back, “I’m glad to see you too. You frightened the life out of us, disappearing like that. String had us all worried you would be eaten by a mountain lion while you were lying unconscious.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. I had a helpful little silver fox who licked me back to consciousness and stayed with me until I was near people.”

“I don’t think a fox would beat a mountain lion,” said Ancient Oak doubtfully.

Tarkyn smiled, “No, but there are always the eagles. I suspect the forest is looking after me, don’t you?”

Waterstone regained his attention, “Tarkyn, we’re all sorry we were too hard on you back there.”

Tarkyn waved his hand, “Don’t give it a second thought. I just had a short fuse because I was so tired. Once I woke up from my fall, I was trying to come down the path to rejoin you. That’s why I’m down the mountain, not up. Anyway, I’ve been sitting with my hand against a fir tree for the last hour or so, so I have finally recovered.” A few minutes later he frowned, “This seems to be taking a long time.”

“You were miles away, Tarkyn, and in a completely unexpected direction. Way off to the west and nearly off the mountain altogether,” said Running Feet with a smile.

“So how did you find me? I was worried you wouldn’t be able to track me across those boulders that I climbed over.”

“We were struggling, to be honest,” said Autumn Leaves. “For the first part, you had left a few drops of blood here and there but when that stopped, we couldn’t trace you.” He glanced sideways at Danton, “Even our elite guard had no more success than we did.” He shrugged, “We spread out and were just organising a methodical hunt when a large crow swooped down and sat near us on a rock. To begin with, we didn’t take much notice but it cawed and ruffled its feathers until it had our attention. As soon as we were watching, it flew a short distance and landed on another rock just out of reach. Then it cawed and ruffled its feathers again until we moved in its direction. It waited until we were much closer than most birds would allow, before taking off and flying a short distance away to repeat the performance all over again. Eventually, it led us to you.”

Tarkyn thought back, “I saw that crow. It gave me its view of the clearing and flew above the trees to show me where we were but as you can imagine, it meant nothing to me. I had no idea where I was. When I didn’t respond, it must have flown off to fetch you.” He gave a grunt of laughter, “Hmm. There you are, you see, the forest looking after me. That’s a new one, isn’t it? It’s the first time an animal has tried to communicate with you on my behalf, without my direct input. Interesting.”

“And did you hurt yourself badly?” came Lapping Water’s soft voice from the side and slightly behind him.

Tarkyn’s stomach turned over and he felt his cheeks redden. He hoped the early evening gloom would cover him. He caught his breath, looked around and said in what he hoped would be a casual tone of voice, “I did a bit of damage to myself.” His voice seemed quite scratchy all of a sudden. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I had quite a hefty bruise on my temple and some blood on my face. I thought I had just fallen over but Varga, one of the sorcerers back there, was sure that I must have fallen a long way or been hit. That’s when I remembered I had fallen over that little cliff.” He cleared his throat again, “I fixed myself up using the fir tree. I hope I’m not green again. Am I?”

Lapping Water smiled and shook her head, “You look fine to me.”

“Do I?” he asked hopefully. Tarkyn gave his head a little shake and chastised himself for reading things into simple remarks. “Oh good,” he said in a more prosaic tone of voice, “Then I didn’t overdo it.”

As they neared the firesite, Rainstorm appeared on the path ahead, with Sparrow on one side of him and Midnight on the other. Rainstorm smiled and mouthed, “Hi prince,” from a distance while the children dragged themselves away from him and ran down the path to throw themselves simultaneously into Tarkyn’s arms. Tarkyn staggered backwards under the impetus but with the assistance of several hands, managed to keep his feet and settle Midnight and Sparrow onto a hip each. He grinned and hugged them as they both threw their arms around his neck and nearly strangled him.

“Hi Sparrow. Hi Midnight. Aagh. Did you miss me?” he managed to squawk out of his squashed throat as he sent an accompanying image to Midnight. This resulted in an even tighter stranglehold on his neck as they both laughed and gave him an even bigger hug. “Oh stop. I’m dying,” he gasped, sending them both an image of himself with crossed eyes struggling for breath. He gradually infused a genuine plea into his image that made them release their stranglehold on him. “Hurumph. Thanks.” By this time, he had drawn level with Rainstorm. “Hi, Rainstorm. Have you been on babysitting fatigue? Well done. I’m glad these little treasures were left in good hands,” he said, successfully overriding any chagrin Rainstorm may have felt at being left behind.

As they reached the firesite, a cheer went up from the assembled woodfolk and many came over to clap him on the back. Tarkyn looked around and realised there were plaited garlands of flowers and foliage strewn around the clearing.

He swung Sparrow and Midnight down and raised his eyebrows, “Well, this is a surprise. What’s all of this in aid of, then?”

Dry Berry stepped forward and proclaimed in a loud voice, “Tonight we celebrate the lifting of the curse.” She waited for the cheers to subside before continuing, “and the restoration of the mountainfolk into the woodfolk fold.” After more cheering, she finished with a flourish, “And above all, we celebrate the courage, skills and good will of Prince Tarkyn, Stormaway Treemaster and Midnight, to whom we owe the future of our woodfolk nation.” Such a resounding uproar greeted this last statement that Tarkyn feared the mountains would be ringing with woodfolk cheers. He glanced sideways at Stormaway who placed his finger surreptitiously beside his nose, so as not to interrupt the revelry. Reassured that the sound was being masked, Tarkyn gave himself over to the enjoyment of the evening.

Part 10: Across the Mountains

Chapter
53

Waterstone took a good draught of his wine. “Now Tarkyn, there is something we have all been wondering about…” he said, glancing at Danton.

Tarkyn eyes twinkled as they moved from one to the other, “Go on. This has sprung from yet another gossip session, no doubt.”

It was that mellow time of night when reminiscences are exchanged and people’s defences are a little more malleable.

“Pretty much.” Waterstone waved his mug around, “So what we were wondering was: After you went to such extremes as a young lad to protect Danton, why would you have any doubts about his loyalty?”

The woodman immediately received a hard jab in the ribs and looked around to see a red-faced Danton beside him, grimacing for him to be quiet. Waterstone gave a little chuckle. “Too late now,” he whispered.

Tarkyn watched this interchange with some amusement before turning his attention to the question. He glanced at Danton, “I don’t know how much Danton has told you but, just to provide me with companionship, he was dragged away from his family to live in the palace among strangers. Worse than that, when he got there, he became my whipping boy.”

“But you stood up to Markazon as a little seven year old and  even hurt yourself to save Danton from being flogged.” Waterstone frowned quizzically, “Didn’t you think Danton might have been grateful for that?”

Tarkyn shook his head and, with a little smile, stood up to look for another flagon of wine. When he returned, he poured everyone another drink and handed out some hazelnuts he had found on the way back.

Waterstone persisted, “Why not?”

“Why should anyone be grateful for only having to face the consequences of their own actions just as anyone else in the population does?” countered the prince. “Danton didn’t owe me anything for that. I could hardly profess to be his friend and allow that to continue. The way I saw it, I was still in his debt for the misery he had endured because of me.” His smile broadened, “Sorry Danton, I realise now I should have trusted you all the way along. When we were younger, I did trust you unquestioningly. But as we grew older, you became more involved in the machinations of the royal court, and became answerable more to the king than to me.” He shrugged, “After all, when I last saw you in Tormadell, we were both loyal to the king. How could I  assume that you would foreswear your allegiance to the king to come after me?”

“The trouble with you, Tarkyn Tamadil,” said Danton emphatically, “is that you had no idea how much it meant to me; that you were willing to undergo such pain on my behalf.”

Tarkyn was unimpressed, “You did it for me often enough.”

“But I didn’t choose to. My father forced me to the palace and your retainers forced the pain on me. But you did have a choice. So when you put yourself on the line for me against your father who, as far as I was concerned, was the most fearsome person in the world, holding life and death in his hands, well…words fail me.” Danton’s voice had become husky and he took a hefty draught of wine. After a moment he said, “And Tarkyn, I had to become involved in court intrigue to protect you, as best I could, from schemers. Not saying I didn’t enjoy it. You know I love the intricacies of political and social manoeuvring. But it was always with your welfare in mind.”

Tarkyn clapped Danton on the back, “Oh my poor friend, we have both been misused by our families in their quests for power. You, I suppose, at least gained a life in the royal household from it, whereas I lost one.” He considered the young sorcerer. “And now you have thrown it all away.” He took his hand from Danton’s back and holding his wine cup in both hands, gazed sombrely into the dark liquid. After a while he said quietly, “You know, I really do thank you for doing that, Danton. And when I think how much you love the gaiety and glitter of court…” He lifted his eyes and brought them to bear on Waterstone, “It would be like you never being able to see your forests again.”

Waterstone raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle, “That is impressive. I hadn’t thought about it like that. I don’t know whether  I could do that; leave the forest behind to follow you, assuming I had  the choice.”

“You couldn’t,” said Tarkyn flatly. “Not if you couldn’t return. You have Sparrow and Ancient Oak and everyone else. You couldn’t leave them.” He paused, “But Danton has left behind more than the glitter of court life. He too has left behind friends and family.” The prince turned to regard his sorcerer friend, “Danton, I fear I have been far too harsh with you. If you don’t mind, Waterstone, I will revoke the requirement that Danton must wear woodfolk clothing. It is all you have left to you to remind you of home. I think I have been too cruel in removing that as well.”

Danton bowed his head in acknowledgement, “Thank you. But I do not think you cruel, Tarkyn. You were very lenient in the circumstances at the time. I feared much worse retribution.” His voice cracked and he rose unsteadily to his feet, “And now, if you’ll excuse me for a few moments.”

Danton walked off into the gloom beyond the firelight. On his return, Tarkyn and Waterstone fully expected him to be dressed in one of his own colourful outfits. But such was not the case.  When they expressed their surprise, he smiled at them, “No, I would not be so quick to insult your woodfolk clothing. Besides, now that I can choose not to wear them, I realise I have grown to like them.”

As he sat down, Waterstone handed him a filled cup of wine and raised an eyebrow in query. Danton shrugged and gave a wry smile, “My feelings overcame me.”

“Is it so lonely living among us?” asked Waterstone in some concern.

Suddenly Danton grinned, “No. Not at all.”

“So what were you upset about?”

“I was overcome by Tarkyn’s acknowledgement.” Danton chuckled, even as new tears sprang to his eyes, “And I knew you would think I was an idiot. So I went away.”

Waterstone blinked at him and shook his head.

Danton laughed, “But now I think about it, I quite like being made fun of by you lot. I think it’s developed into a bit of a game. So maybe next time, I’ll stay and wear it.”

Chapter
54

Despite the late hour, children were still running joyously around the outskirts of the adults, playing hide and seek, and chasey. Creaking Bough detached herself from the main party and rounded up Trickling Stream and Rain on Water, ready to put them to bed. When she raised her eyebrows at Midnight to ask whether he too was ready for bed, he beamed at her and shook his head. But a few minutes later, when Sparrow wandered over to sit on her father’s knee, Midnight’s mood suddenly flipped, as moods sometimes do near the end of parties, from happiness to loneliness. After a few moments, he drew a breath to steady himself and followed Sparrow to sit himself quietly in Tarkyn’s lap between Waterstone and Danton.

Tarkyn was chatting and absent-mindedly gave the little boy a hug as he arrived. Midnight lay his head against Tarkyn’s broad chest and felt it vibrating as the prince talked with his friends. He felt safe and knew that Tarkyn cared for him and yet, as he thought back over his father’s curse and what he had endured because of it and his mother’s ill treatment, he was overwhelmed with self-doubt as he failed to find any justification for Hail’s continued absence. He came aware that Tarkyn was looking down at him anxiously. He felt his hair being stroked and a query appeared in his mind. With a little sigh, he sent Tarkyn an image of Pipeless’ blue magic destroying people’s warped memories followed by an image of Hail with his feeling of expectancy. Then he sent an image accompanied by a query, of Hail fading away until she disappeared. His breath hitched as he strove to keep in his tears.

He tensed himself to run off into the darkness, but Tarkyn’s arms tightened around him. Filled with self-dislike and disappointment, Midnight struggled to get away so that he could lick his wounds in solitude. As he encountered an uncompromisingly firm strength holding him, a red mist of rage enveloped him, and he strained and twisted against Tarkyn’s arms, jabbing Tarkyn’s chest with his elbows and kicking out at his folded legs, thrusting all the pent up resentment at the people who had hurt him into every vicious movement. Despite his continued savagery, no peremptory command came down to stop him and his attack was not met with any reprisal, but the firm hold on him did not slacken.

Gradually, his anguished mind became aware of a soft stream of understanding, warmth and comfort washing into its turmoil. And then, since he couldn’t get away and could no longer hold in his distress, he collapsed like a burst balloon and sobbed out his years of misuse against the one sure rock in his universe. The strong safe arms stayed circled around him and Tarkyn’s head bent to rest on top of his. He felt the firm rhythm of a hand stroking his back and slowly his misery played itself out. He felt Tarkyn’s chest vibrating again but did not know that Tarkyn was explaining Midnight’s reactions and requesting a search for Hail to be instigated.

“Why didn’t you use you
r
Shturru
m
spell on him?” asked Ancient Oak who had come to join them when he saw Midnight lashing out. “You’ll have bruises all over you now.”

Tarkyn looked down for a moment at the little boy who now lay sleeping in his arms and stroked his hair. He gave a wry smile, “I felt the odds were stacked far enough in my favour, without having to resort to magic or rank. I wanted to use the least force possible to keep him contained.” He met his wood brother’s eyes, “I don’t really want it to become a battle of wills. He is a strong little character and he’s needed every last bit of his strength to survive until now. I wouldn’t want that strength turned against me, I mean, truly against me and I wouldn’t want to squash it into submission either.”

Waterstone watched this exchange through narrowed eyes. Tarkyn glanced at him and knew he was thinking that this was the same attitude the prince brought to his dominion over the woodfolk. Tarkyn gave a little shrug and was rewarded with a derisive grunt.

“Any better suggestions, Waterstone?” he asked quietly.

“No. But it’s unnerving to discover how calculated you are in your dealings with people,” said Waterstone.

Tarkyn gave a grunt of laughter, “Huh. I have two things to say to that. To start with, when you first watched me talking to Stormaway, you realised I knew how to deal with people and secondly, most of the time I go by instinct, not by careful calculation. It is only when someone asks me a question as Ancient Oak just did, that I formulate what I’m doing.”

Waterstone’s face relaxed, “Fair enough, my young friend. I think you handled Midnight very well just then. I was wondering when all that ill-treatment was going to surface in him. The fact that there’s a reason for it doesn’t remove all his years of misery, does it?”

“No, but at least it makes their memory more bearable,” said Tarkyn. “It is a shame that Hail has not stayed to be with her son. He feels  she must hate him anyway if lifting the curse has not brought her closer to him.”

Danton grimaced, “He might be right. After all, in her mind, he is irretrievably linked with Pipeless’ rape of her, isn’t he?”

Tarkyn nodded, “Yes, but since he doesn’t know about that, he thinks that it must be him.”

“It’s tricky.” Waterstone shook his head, “And I don’t know how much use it will be to insist that she comes back and faces him.”

“Well, you know Waterstone,” replied Tarkyn grinning, “in that manipulative little way I have, I wasn’t going to let her loose with Midnight until someone, not necessarily me, had talked to her first. But I think we should try, for Midnight’s sake.”

Just then String, Bean and a group of mountainfolk trappers joined them. Tarkyn noticed that the trappers wore an assortment of furs like String and Bean rather than the standard woodfolk attire. Bean waved his hand, “There are so many places she could have gone, it will be difficult to find her, particularly if she wishes to remain hidden.”

“Yeah, true. Not hard to hide up in these mountains, if you want to,” added String dolefully.

Tarkyn looked at the mountainfolk trappers, “Can any of you contact her at the moment?”

The mountainfolk trappers went out of focus for a few minutes, letting their minds range through the nearby mountains but then shook their heads.

Tarkyn looked Waterstone, “So, does that means she’s unconscious or sleeping?”

“Not necessarily. It did when we tried to contact Rainstorm and Summer Rain because we knew they would want to reply, but in her case she may have shielded her mind if she doesn’t want to be contacted.”

Tarkyn looked around the group, “So, what can we do? Just wait until morning and then go looking for her?”

A gnarled old mountainfolk trapper growled, “Not much point, even then. If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. I am Growling Bear.” He handed Tarkyn a stone flask. “Here. Try a bit of that. It’s a bit rough but keeps you warm. You seem a little tied up at the moment to get your own.”

Trarquin grinned, “Thanks.” He slugged down a good mouthful from the flask before spluttering and coughing. “Oh my stars!
A
bi
t
rough! My throat’s on fire.”

Growling Bear smiled evilly, “Yeah, but you’re warm all the way down your chest now, aren’t you?”

Tarkyn nodded, tears starting from his eyes as he struggled to regain control of his voice, “Aagh. Yes, I am but I’m not sure it was worth it.”