The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (67 page)

“Your Highness,” began Autumn Leaves, using Tarkyn’s title despite himself, “It is not as bad as you think. None of us thought that you had deliberately made that decision. It is more that we thought that you had panicked when faced with Hail on the edge of that cliff.”

Tarkyn folded his arms and nodded sharply, “And so didn’t think of you at all, which, as Waterstone so clearly stated, is even worse.”

“Just as you reacted without thinking when you saw that family under attack on the Great West Road,” added Waterstone tightly.

Tarkyn looked from one to the other of them, “Reacting fast and forcefully does not necessarily constitute panicking.” He paused, “I admit that at the Great West Road, I didn’t remember that I should not, as a woodman, have revealed myself, but since it took me all the time until yesterday to figure that out, it was more a lack of understanding than a failure to consider all the angles at the time. I did not place you or the forests in danger through my actions either then or yesterday. And I believed until now that you understood that I had your welfare and the welfare of the forest at heart, above all else.” He dropped his arms and said coldly, “After all, I am obliged under the terms of the oath to consider your welfare. So you may be assured that I will continue to do so whether you have faith in me or not.”

“It is only that you are young and inexperienced,” protested Autumn Leaves anxiously.

“And hold our lives in your hands,” added Waterstone tightly, not looking at either of them.

Tarkyn turned and took a few agitated paces before swivelling on his heel to face them. When he spoke, his voice was sharp with annoyance, “Now let’s get this straight, once and for all. I am only inexperienced in the ways of living in the wilds. I am not inexperienced in dealing with critical, fast decision-making. Being a successful tournament fighter requires split-second decisions and fast reflexes. And I have spent most of my life being trained in fighting and strategy and have spent years practising it under contrived pressure. They may have neglected my magical training but they did not neglect the basic requirements needed to lead men. When I sent that command to Hail, it was powered by a lifetime and generations of being obeyed without question. I didn’t need the oath to keep her on the top of that cliff. She only let go when she saw me because she had already obeyed my command and resented the fact that she had complied. The threat to the forest had nothing to do with it. She would have complied anyway.”

“Stars above, you’re arrogant sometimes!” exclaimed Waterstone angrily.

Suddenly the prince smiled, “I know I am. And what’s worse, it’s because I have reason to be. You know it’s true. You’re the one who keeps saying I don’t need the oath to keep everyone in line. Well, you’re absolutely right. The order I gave that you refused was little more than an emphatic request. I sent out a peremptory order for silence after the attack on me but the only person, other than Hail and Midnight, who has ever experienced one of my full-blown commands is Autumn Leaves…  and that was only a demonstration.”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows at the heavy woodman who gave a wry smile in return and nodded reluctantly, “Yes, it was quite persuasive, as I recall.” Autumn Leaves frowned, “But you let Hail go on thinking that you had entrusted her with the forest’s welfare, didn’t you?”

“What did you expect me to do? Take time out to explain that I hadn’t given her that trust while she was still so vulnerable? I don’t think so.” Tarkyn waved a hand. “You can go and explain it to her any time you like.”

Waterstone, who was not interested in this angle on things, suddenly asked, “Are you now saying that we are effectively free to ignore your commands if we so wish?”

Tarkyn shook his head, “No, I am saying that I don’t think the forest will suffer much if you do.” When Waterstone looked puzzled, the prince added gently, “Your honour will still be at stake.”

The woodman digested this and grunted. After a short silence, he mused, “So the main threat to the forest seems to be caused by direct threats against you. Is that right?”

“So it would seem,” agreed Tarkyn. “And the less blatant aggression of the harvesters’ sedition caused insidious damage, didn’t it? Blackened leaves and mouldering just like the nature of the attack on me. And I suspect that a mass refusal to bend to my will might also elicit severe damage to the forest.” He shrugged, “But how can we know?” A thought struck him and Tarkyn turned away to walk off among the nearby scraggy trees, studying their leaves and bark. He gestured for the other two to join him and pointed to dark grey, soft, furry growths that were rotting into the branches and trunks of the trees, “Hmm. I suspect we are looking at the cost of dishonouring me.”

“We didn’t dishonour you,” exclaimed Autumn Leaves hotly.

The prince straightened up and stared down at the two woodmen. “It may surprise you to know that I do not feel honoured by your belief that I might chance your lives on a whim and I do not feel honoured by clandestine gossip about my perceived shortcomings.” His eyes narrowed, “However, I am becoming very tired of the sorcery in this oath making my judgements for me.”

Tarkyn stared over their heads, thinking through all he knew about the oath while a part of his mind watched the children playing in the long grass and saw the other woodfolk and sorcerers chatting quietly and keeping their eyes on the progress of his discussions. His eyes swung around to alight on Stormaway who was seated slightly apart, watching him intently. Tarkyn murmured a request for the wizard to be summoned.

Waterstone obliged by sending a mental request to Thunder Storm who walked over to deliver the message. But even in that short time, Stormaway had already stood up and taken the first few steps towards Tarkyn. The wizard nodded a brief acknowledgement to Thunder Storm as he continued on his way.

When he arrived, Stormaway bowed low, saying quietly once he had straightened, “You requested me, Your Highness?”

The two woodmen frowned at the unexpected degree of the wizard’s deference but Tarkyn accepted it without comment, “Stormaway, among us here, there are at least two people I know of, who have no qualms about lying when it suits them. Danton is one, and you are the other. As you probably know, I am not particularly good at discerning prevarication and I do not expect it to be used against me by those loyal to me.”

“May I say that it is one of your more endearing traits, my lord?” said Stormaway gravely but with a twinkle in his eye.

Tarkyn gave a small grunt of laughter. “I myself do not find it particularly convenient. However…” He paused and said with no heat at all, “However, Stormaway, I now realise you have lied to me from beginning to end.”

“Indeed, my lord.” The wizard gave another slight bow as though he had just been complimented. “But surely this comes as no surprise. After all, I told you when I first met you that I was devious.”

Tarkyn couldn’t suppress a smile. After a moment, he folded his arms and said quietly, “Stormaway Treemaster, I command you to remove the oath’s bond to the forest.”

Stormaway beamed and bowed low, “Certainly Your Highness. It would be a pleasure. Your command is my will.” He tapped his long gnarled staff twice on the ground. The first tap gave a faint echo within the earth but the second resounded with a great boom that sent shock waves beneath the surface and rippled off across the grasslands, through the windswept trees, out across the mountains and down into the forest below. A streak of green light shot skywards from the top of his staff and spread across the underside of the gathering clouds, leaving a strange dimmed light in its wake until gradually, it dissipated and daylight re-asserted itself.

The woodfolk froze into stunned silence as Waterstone relayed what had just occurred. Even the children didn’t move. Waterstone and Autumn Leaves stood with mouths agape. Only Tarkyn and Stormaway looked at one another in satisfaction and smiled.

As a wave of release spread forth from the prince, the woodfolk suddenly came to life and rushed in to cluster around him. 

“You really did it,” said Tree Wind wonderingly, “I wondered whether you really would when you finally worked out how to.”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows at her. “Of course I did. I always said I would.”

“But you lose so much power,” she protested.

“No, I don’t. I have always said the oath should only depend upon the honour of the woodfolk. All that changes is our fear about the forest.”

After a moment, Waterstone recovered enough to say, “Please explain.”

Tarkyn grinned, “A long time ago, I asked Stormaway what would happen if I ordered him to remove the sorcery in the oath. You were there. Do you remember?” Waterstone nodded shortly. “He said ‘I’m so glad you phrased it like that because I would refuse.’” Tarkyn shrugged and smiled, “He lied. And he made me think that he would see the forest destroyed sooner than follow any order I gave to defuse the oath. Until today, I didn’t realise how significant it was that Waterstone’s refusal to obey my order had inflicted only minimal damage on the forest. But today, I put the pieces together and realised that Stormaway had been bluffing. Even if he had refused, the forest would have suffered only minor damage. But he would never have refused.”

The prince glanced at his retainer, “Stormaway swore the oath with the rest of you but he is happy to use any deception at hand to further my cause, as he sees it. In the end, he is a man of honour who has always done his utmost to protect me, even to the extent of lying to me. But faced with a direct order, he will always uphold his oath to obey me.” Tarkyn gave a gentle smile, “Correct?”

Stormaway inclined his head, “Yes, my lord. And had you ordered me back then, I would have tried to dissuade you but had that not worked, I would have obeyed your command. It was a close call. Rather than ordering me, you asked me, would I not defuse the oath. You gave me the upper hand and I took it to keep you safe.”

Waterstone stared at the wizard through narrowed eyes, “And what about your oath to Tarkyn’s father? You said you had promised Markazon that you would not destroy the sorcery in the oath.”

Stormaway gave an apologetic smile, “Only partly true, I’m afraid. Markazon made me promise that I would not destroy the oath’s power for as long as I could, without refusing a direct order. So I could never have told Tarkyn how to defuse the oath but on the other hand, Markazon would never have countenanced me disobeying his son.”

“But he didn’t mind you lying to his son?” asked Autumn Leaves.

The old wizard shrugged, “Markazon and I worked closely together for years. He knew how I achieved my ends. He, of course, could see straight through me and knew I would never work against Tarkyn. So he left me to follow my own style. He knew that, over time, Tarkyn would see through me too and give me a direct order. We both hoped that by then, he would have gained enough authority in his own right to be safe among you woodfolk.”

“Given that we could not be trusted to uphold an oath,” said Waterstone tersely.

“Given that we were entrusting the future of Eskuzor to you and you were an unknown quantity,” retorted Stormaway.

Tarkyn held up a hand to stop their bickering and addressed the gathered woodfolk, “And so my friends, the long awaited day has, rather surprisingly, arrived. Our forest is safe from the retribution of the oath.” A cheer went up and Tarkyn was inundated with calls of thanks. Everywhere shoulders were straighter and more relaxed, and faces became smoother as lines of tension disappeared.  “Today, everything changes even though most things will stay the same. The oath you swore in return for your people being saved from the epidemic is now based purely on trust and your honour, just as it always should have been.”

Tarkyn would have said more but he suddenly realised that many woodfolk had actually dissolved into tears and were embracing each other.

“You have no idea what a strain it has been for us trying to emulate a foreign culture; trying to follow foreign requirements with the sword of retribution hanging constantly over us and our beloved woodlands,” sniffed Tree Wind as she clung to Summer Rain.

Creaking Bough and Thunder Storm stood with their arms around each other and their children, “And now, at last, we can be sure our children will have a home to grow up in,” rumbled Thunder Storm, his face wet with tears.

As Waterstone hugged Autumn Leaves, Sparrow and Ancient Oak came over to join them. Waterstone wiped his eyes and gave a damp chuckle, “And now I will hold the dubious honour of being the person who caused the most damage to the forest.”

“What about Rushwind?” asked Sparrow.

“No. That was really the infection, not her,” said Ancient Oak, completely dry-eyed. He patted Waterstone on the shoulder, “No, I’m afraid there is no doubt that that honour goes to your father. But so does a lot of the credit for helping Tarkyn to trust us enough to release the forest from the oath.” He looked around at Tarkyn, “Come on little brother, what are you doing standing over there by yourself? I know you and Waterstone are fighting at the moment but it will pass. It always does. Come and be part of the celebration.” When Tarkyn hesitated, Ancient Oak walked over, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back. “Come on. You can continue your fight with him later, if you must. Now is the time to celebrate. After all, you must be relieved too.”

As Sparrow, Autumn Leaves and Waterstone enclosed him in their embrace Tarkyn nodded, feeling tears well up more because Ancient Oak had made the effort to pull him in, than because of the oath.