The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (68 page)

Ancient Oak rolled his eyes, “No wonder you two fight so much. You’re both so bloody emotional.”

Tarkyn and Waterstone frowned at each other, “We don’t fight that much,” they chorused.

Ancient Oak laughed, “I never fight with either of you.” He looked down at Sparrow, “Do I?”

Sparrow shook her head, “No,” she said seriously, “You are the steady one in the family.”

“Thanks very much,” exclaimed her father. “I am not unsteady.”

Tarkyn shook his head, “No, you are not unsteady.” He smiled, remembering a conversation with Raging Water about his own volatility, “Perhaps passionate is a better way of putting it.”

“There’s a lot to be passionate about, around you,” he retorted without thinking. Sensing Tarkyn’s immediate withdrawal, Waterstone said, hastily, “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry for what I said and for underestimating you, yet again.” He gave a cheeky grin, “I told you it would be a struggle to live with a legend. How can one get one’s head around the true measure of you?”

Tarkyn frowned and smiled, not sure how to take him.

Suddenly Waterstone grabbed him in a bear hug. “Oh you big galoot! How can one hope to keep up with you? You look like a lost puppy one minute and the next you’re laying down the law and mounting hopeless rescues that actually succeed. Once more, I’ve cut you to the quick but all I can do is say I’m sorry.”

Tarkyn returned his embrace but said with a wry smile, “I wonder how many lifetimes it will take for woodfolk to really, deep down trust any sorcerer?”

“Oh stop it,” exclaimed Waterstone impatiently. “Now you’re being melodramatic. I trust you. That’s why I was so shocked and angry. What I thought you had done undermined my whole faith in my ability to judge people. Turns out I was wrong. Bad news for you is that I’m bound to be wrong some time again in the future. You’re too hard to predict and I’m too quick to jump to conclusions. In the interests of family harmony, next time I will give you the benefit of the doubt before ripping your head off. Agreed?”

A reluctant smile spread across Tarkyn’s face, “Agreed.” He drew back, “I’d better go. I have a bit more to say before we head off. Could you get everyone’s attention again to save me shouting please?”

When all eyes were once more turned his way, Tarkyn continued, “Before anything goes wrong, I need to make sure we all understand the new rules of engagement. It is not all good news for you, I’m afraid. After all, the oath still stands, upheld by your commitment to repay my father.” He gave a little smile, “And now I have no need to fear endangering the forest if I issue an order.

“Since the forest is no longer your whipping boy for your transgressions,” he continued, “from now on, you will have to face your own consequences for your own misdemeanours, should they occur. In general, I would expect consequences to go no further than you struggling with your own conscience and honour. However, if a serious transgression occurred I, in consultation with you folk, would decide upon the retribution. The final say is mine.”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “Any objections so far?” Other than a couple of closed faces, there was no indication that this was causing any distress.

He let his vivid eyes travel across them all, “Today, I realised that I have been too diffident.” With some amusement, Tarkyn noted stunned expressions at this pronouncement, “Because I am inexperienced in the way of the woodlands and because I did not wish to intimidate you, I have downplayed my training and my heritage. However, when you all assume that I could panic to the extent of endangering you all, enough is enough. To save myself from appearing even more arrogant than usual, I will leave Waterstone and Autumn Leaves to fill you in on our previous discussion in due course.” He paused, “However, one thing I will say before we move off; there seems to be a pattern developing of discussing my shortcomings behind my back. I don’t know what I have done to make you feel unable to talk to me when an issue arises but I will say two things about it. Firstly, it shows little respect for me and so contravenes the oath, but secondly, and for me more importantly, it isolates me.”

“Sorry, Tarkyn,” Rainstorm piped up, “We were just having a bit of fun.”

“You may have been, but there were a lot of discontented people who didn’t come to see me about it or stand up to me at the time.”

“Perhaps you should consider your personal style,” suggested Running Feet tentatively.

Tarkyn turned to glare at the woodman and snapped, “Perhaps you should consider my personal style and not be so cowed by it.” Seeing Running Feet’s stricken face, he waved a hand and relaxed into a rueful smile, “Sorry, Running Feet. You are right, and I am right. I need to remember you are not used to being ordered around, or snapped at or being told off. I’m afraid my upbringing was a poor training ground for showing respect to people beyond my family. I am trying, but obviously not with total success. On the other hand, you people should know by now that I do care about you and that I will listen, if not at first, at least when you persist.” He shrugged, “And without wishing to undermine myself completely, perhaps you should bear in mind that a rebuke from me is far more commonplace than, say, a rebuke from Waterstone or Autumn Leaves or Thunder Storm.”

“It still tears your guts out,” responded Rainstorm.

“And makes me want to crawl into a corner and hide,” rumbled Thunder Storm.

“And makes you feel like you’ve been hit in the face,” said Bean.

“And tends to belittle one, although of course it is up to you,” added Stormaway suavely with a slight bow.

The prince ran his hands back through his hair and locked them behind his head. “Ooh dear! I’ve opened a can of worms here, haven’t I?”

“You did ask people to tell you,” said Lapping Water gently.

Tarkyn looked at her, his heart giving an enormous thump that he felt everyone must be able to hear. He dropped his arms to his sides. “And what have I done wrong to you then?”

“Nothing. I was just saying, that’s all.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. Well, that’s good then, isn’t it, that there’s at least one person I haven’t upset?” Tarkyn felt a little flustered and tried to stare down Ancient Oak and Rainstorm who were both grinning at him. After a moment, he regained his own attention and asked, “Anyone else want to say something while we’re clearing the air?”

Melting Snow took a little breath, said timorously in her tinkling little voice, “I find you thoroughly intimidating in every way,” and promptly blushed.

Amidst a ripple of giggles and chuckles, Tarkyn blinked, “Oh dear. Well, I’m sorry about that.” He thought back over the events that had occurred since he met the mountainfolk and added, “Perhaps now that things have calmed down, I won’t be quite so, I don’t know…”

“Irritable?”

“Forceful?”

“Autocratic?”

“Arrogant?”

“Fearsome?”

“Bossy?” said a little voice.

Tarkyn laughed as he turned to Sparrow and ruffled her hair, “And that will be quite enough from you, young lady. No, I was going to say ‘busy’.  ‘Preoccupied’ was another possibility but thanks everyone for your suggestions,” He turned back to Melting Snow, “I was going to say that I won’t be s
o
bus
y
now, so you may be able to get to know me better.”

Suddenly Hail stomped up to stand in front of him, dragging Midnight by the hand, “Well, I just want to say that you’re an interfering, stubborn bastard and thank heavens you are, for my sake and for Midnight’s.” She thrust Midnight forward, giving him a hearty thump on the back and ruffling his hair as he went, “Here! You can have him. I’ve had quite enough of him for one day.” She glanced sideways at Bean and whispered gruffly, “Actually, I think they’re missing each other.”

Midnight ran and jumped into Tarkyn’s arms. As Tarkyn hugged him, he said, “I heard that and yes, I was missing him.” He smiled down into Midnight’s brilliant green eyes beaming up at him from beneath his thatch of dark brown hair. “Hello rascal.”

He looked up at the woodfolk and sorcerers around him, “Right, so now that you have all completely assassinated my character, do you think you can come and see me next time I upset you instead of uniting against me?”

They all assured him they would and every one of them made sure they slapped him on the back or patted him on the arm on their way past, as they headed up the last leg of the mountain.

Chapter
56

Three days later, five sorcerers and the woodfolk of the prince’s home guard were ranged along the top of a rocky ridge studying the panorama before them. The descent to the south was much steeper and consisted of a series of sheer drops interspersed with wide sloping ledges of grasslands or forest, rather like giant terracing. Beyond the base of the mountain, the forest gradually gave way to wide chequered plains of farmland, dotted with farm dwellings and from time to time, villages. In the far distance, almost on the horizon, slightly to their right, they could see the silhouette of a large walled city.

“What is that place?” asked Rainstorm, shading his eyes against the glare.

“That, my friends, is the mighty fortress town of Montraya,” said Danton. His eyes lit up, “Many a magnificent ball has been held there and we have had weeks of fun and entertainment in the castle and its grounds. The streets are lined with shops and market stalls of every kind. And because it is so close to the southern border, there are exotic wares from Farenz and other more distant lands. It is the seat of Prince Jarand, Tarkyn’s brother.”

Rainstorm looked at the sorcerer quizzically, “Would I be right in thinking that holding a ball there is not the same as holding a ball here?” With that, he drew a small padded leather ball from his pocket, threw it up and caught it. “Or do they specialise in decorating balls?”

Danton grinned, “You’re only half joking, aren’t you?”

Rainstorm nodded and smiled back, quite happy to be made fun of, “Yep. I suspect I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

When Danton had finished waxing lyrical about balls, Rainstorm then asked, his eyes shining with mischief, “And I presume Jarand’s seat is not an enormous chair?”

Danton frowned, and asked with just a hint of disdain. “Surely you know what that means?” He was just about to launch into an explanation when he realised that Rainstorm was winding him up. He laughed, “Yo
u
d
o
know what that means.”

“Yes, of course I do, but I have finally succeeded in getting you to betray some of your disdain. I love it,” chortled the young woodman. “Tarkyn said you could be disdainful but you’ve managed to hide it until now.”

“I am not disdainful,” responded Danton hotly.

“Huh. That’s what Tarkyn said about himself, too.”

“Well, he is quite mistaken,” said Danton promptly, “He is often disdainful.”

Rainstorm laughed, “No, not often. Just sometimes. But I must admit, you show it very rarely. I suspect it is because you are such a skilful courtier rather than because you don’
t
fee
l
disdainful.”

Danton regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, “You are a perceptive character, aren’t you? Tarkyn said you were. And if you are aware that  I have sometimes felt disdainful about you, are you offended by it? I would be.”

The young woodman shook his head, smiling. “No. You have only felt like that because you are seeing our actions through your own values. If you can put up with our amusement at you, we can put up with your disdain. It’s just different ways of showing the same thing, after all.”

Danton gave a wry smile, “Well, after this conversation, I will think twice before thinking of you with disdain in the future. I beg your pardon for underestimating you.”

Rainstorm beamed, “That’s all right. I’m used to it. Everyone underestimates me… except Tarkyn.”

Tarkyn, the two trappers, Summer Rain and Tree Wind walked past them, deep in discussion. Rainstorm nodded at their retreating figures and asked Danton, “Did you know that Falling Rain is Summer Rain’s brother? And Tree Wind was going to marry him, you know, before he was exiled.” He watched them moving further along the ridge. “I think Tarkyn should be consulting with Waterstone, Running Feet and Autumn Leaves too, if they are trying to work out where he’ll be. They all knew him pretty well.”

“Why don’t you suggest it?” asked Danton.

Rainstorm shrugged, “They’ll tell him if they have any ideas. We’re in no tearing hurry.”

Danton glanced up at the dark, billowing purpley-grey clouds that had gathered overhead. “I don’t know about that. I think we might need to seek cover very shortly.”

Even as they watched, Blizzard and Hail detached themselves from the main group and ran to join Tarkyn. Danton and Rainstorm could see them gesturing at the sky and consulting with String and Bean.

Suddenly Rainstorm said, “Right. We’re off. String and Bean are going to lead us straight down a steep, narrow path to the next level, hopefully in time to find shelter in a cave down there before the deluge. We’re not going to stop here for lunch after all.” The young woodman groaned, “And I’m starving.”

Danton smiled at him and scrabbled around inside his pack until he produced a couple of apples. “Here,” he said, tossing one to Rainstorm, “That should keep you going for a little while.”