The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (76 page)

“It was one of the few times in woodfolk history that we couldn’t flick into hiding,” answered Summer Rain. “There were too many sick people who were unable to move themselves and we couldn’t leave them unprotected. A casual passer-by still would not have found us because of our camouflage, but Falling Rain knew where we were.”

“And that young upstart, Journeyman, did try to use mind control on us,” replied Golden Toad, “But generally, woodfolk can resist it since we use it effectively ourselves. Falling Rain would only have succumbed because of his weakened state which we’ve just discovered was even more weakened by hunger and lack of sleep. And secondly, Journeyman didn’t really know what he was doing.”

“Whereas, I can assure you, I did. Mind control is not a natural skill for sorcerers,” explained Stormaway. “And even with training, not all wizards are able to pick it up. Unfortunately, or so I thought at the time - now I think, fortunately - Journeyman was not a particularly adept apprentice. Good at weather, as you’ve witnessed. Not bad at shielding. Had a way with training animals but used the stick more than the carrot. Never got the hang of mind control. Couldn’t remember herbs and potions. Altogether, a bit of a dead loss, really.”

“Do you remember with whom he spent his free time?” asked Danton.

Stormaway took a sip of wine as he thought about it, then shrugged, “I took very little interest in his antics outside the confines of my office.  He did strike me as a little toadeater though. I think he spent quite a bit of his time fostering powerful connections; ensuring he had a position to move into after he finished his training. I must say I didn’t expect it to be my position he moved into. But after Markazon died, I was ousted and Journeyman took my place as court wizard. Pure idiocy on the twins’ part. Journeyman was far less skilled than I.” He shrugged, “But there you are. I should have paid more attention to what he was doin
g
betwee
n
lessons, not in lessons.”

Tarkyn frowned in frustration, “We really need to know from Falling Rain, don’t we?”

“And I don’t think we can leave it too long. It is important to our safety that we know who knows about us,” added Autumn Leaves.

Lapping Water smiled at him, “It can’t be that urgent. We have done without the knowledge for twelve years.”

“But something has changed,” Autumn Leaves helped himself to some wine from the flask as he talked, “We have had three woodfolk captured, and a pack of wolves trained up to look for us. Suddenly, whoever knows about us wants to find us.”

“Hmm, I think Tarkyn is what has changed,” said Lapping Water, glancing at the prince. “That same Journeyman who controlled the wolves also led the hunting party that tracked down Tarkyn.”

“But the first time, the wolves didn’t follow Tarkyn’s scent. They stopped searching when they couldn’t follow our scent up into the trees even though Tarkyn’s scent was on the ground leading to the road,” objected Waterstone.

Lapping Water threw her hands up. “I don’t know. Maybe they weren’t looking for Tarkyn then. When the next hunt set out, they knew Tarkyn had been in the area because of the fire.”

They were interrupted at this point by the appearance of Falling Rain at the edge of the group. He stood there, hands on hips and looked around the woodfolk. “Because it is important to the safety of woodfolk, I will release my memories to you,” He raised his hand to quell the murmurs of thanks. “On two conditions.” The woodman brought his hard gaze to bear on Tarkyn. “That you, Tarkyn Tamadil, will agree to receiv
e
al
l
the memories I wish you to see and that you, in exchange, will expose your memories of suffering to me.”

Tarkyn stared back at him, knowing that Falling Rain was planning to wreak his revenge on him by forcing him to confront the extent of the pain inflicted on the woodman both in captivity and in exile. He also believed that Falling Rain would revel in any pain the prince had endured and consider it to be due punishment for what the woodman had been through. But more than this, Tarkyn knew he had no choice if he was to fulfil his commitment to the woodfolk to protect them. As he drew breath to reply, Lapping Water, Waterstone, Rainstorm and several others rose hotly to his defence.

Falling Rain glared at them, “You people are pathetic. This man should face what was done on his behalf. If you want my knowledge, those are my conditions. Take them or leave them.”

Amid another round of protests, Tarkyn said quietly, “I will take them.”

“No, Tarkyn,” exclaimed Lapping Water. “You shouldn’t have to endure this.”

Tarkyn raised a hand, as others joined their voices to hers. “After what has happened to him, Falling Rain deserves his pound of flesh. And he is right. Since it was done for my sake, I should be the one to give it to him. Waterstone told him that we would make him reparation in any way we could. So here is an opportunity to do so, at least in part.”  Tarkyn locked gazes with Falling Rain and, ignoring the burning hatred he saw in the woodman’s eyes, asked mildly, “Would you like someone with you while you do this?”

Falling Rain glanced at Tree Wind but then said firmly, “No. This is between you and me only.”

Tarkyn shrugged apologetically, “I am afraid I will have to insist that at least one person stands guard over us during the proceedings. I have undertaken not to place myself in unnecessary danger and I’m afraid that, since I have had no undertaking from you not to harm me, I must insure my safety while I am concentrating. If, however, you feel you can give me that assurance, lookouts can be deployed simply to ensure that we are not disturbed.”

Falling Rain’s eyes narrowed as he considered his options. “And who will ensure that you do not harm me?”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows slightly, “My oath to protect all woodfolk will ensure that.”

Falling Rain realised that everyone around him, whether he agreed with them or not, had complete faith in Tarkyn’s word and would not see the need for further protection for him.

Surprisingly, Waterstone spoke up, “I will undertake to offer you protection above and beyond Tarkyn’s word. I would not see you feeling isolated and unsupported.” He gave a wry smile, “There is not much I could do against Tarkyn’s power if he chose to use it, but I could throw myself between you, I suppose.” His smile broadened, “And I could argue with him.”

Falling Rain’s stance relaxed slightly, “Thank you, Waterstone,” he said warmly. “That means a great deal to me.” He looked back at Tarkyn, “I will give you my word not to harm you until the sunrise. Then I will review it. If you are willing to accept my word, then I will accept your assurance that you will not harm me,” he glanced at Waterstone, “and so will not draw on Waterstone’s offer of protection.”

Tarkyn nodded and stood up. He took a deep breath. “Lead the way. I am sure you will know somewhere near here that will suit our purpose.” Without meeting the eyes of any of the gathered woodfolk, their prince walked resolutely out of the clearing in the wake of the vengeful woodman, to accept his punishment for deeds done by others at a time when he was only a small boy.

Chapter
64

Falling Rain led them into the depths of nearby pine forest. Once they had pushed their way through the outer skirts of the pine trees, they found themselves in another world of damp mosses and soft pine needles.

Tarkyn murmured,
“
Lumay
a
,” and raised a soft ball of white light. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Sorcerers aren’t as adept in the dark as woodfolk.” He gazed around at the closely woven canopy above them and the soft yellow and green mosses that grew in such profusion between and up the trees. A narrow trickle of water gurgled gently as it pushed its way through the moss and pine needles. “This is beautiful in here, isn’t it?”

Falling Rain eyed him but didn’t reply, simply showing him to a dry spot where they could sit cross-legged opposite each other on a soft bed of dry pine needles.  “You can put that out now,” he said. “There are luminous fungi on many of these trees. They will give us enough light to be able to discern each other in the darkness.”

When Tarkyn extinguished his light, he gradually became aware of a soft, pale yellow light that was emanating from the trunks of nearby trees. He walked over and peered up closely at the fungi. “What do these look like in daylight?”

Falling Rain shrugged, “Just plain brown, uninteresting fungi. Look. There are similar toadstools over there. Exactly the same. Magical at night. Unexceptional during the day.”

“Hmm, amazing.” Tarkyn took a sharp breath and became business-like as he returned to take up his position sitting opposite Falling Rain. “Right. I suppose we had better get on with it. You realise I can only send you images and feelings, don’t you. But I think that is what you want really, isn’t it? The feelings?”

Falling Rain nodded shortly, “And what about you? Can you pick up the words in my memories or only images?”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrow in surprise, “Now you mention it, I realise I can pick up words if they are direct memories but I can’t if they are images or mind talking.” He settled his elbows into his knees and looked straight into Falling Rain’s eyes. “Right. You’re calling the shots. So how do you want to do this?”

“You will show me what I ask, then I will show you what I choose. In the end I will show you all you want to know. Agreed?” he asked rhetorically. Falling Rain was clearly enjoying wielding his power. “I understand you were also exiled. Let me see that.”

Tarkyn took a deep breath to control his anger, “I think I should remind you that we agreed to be civil to one another. You may not be aware of this but I have a very short temper that I can only partially control. I would not push your advantage too far, if I were you.” He took another deep breath, “When you are ready, look into my eyes.”

Palace guards stream into my room. Feelings of incomprehension turn to embarrassment and chagrin. I am marched out into the Great Hall where I stand before all the guards facing the bench. The king speaks. I am flooded with fear, horror, anger then desperation. My shield goes up. Assailed on all sides by beams of light that bounce back and drop the guards standing around me. Cracks in the walls, great chunks of plaster raining down around me. I crawl under the table, release my shield, hold coat button. After a blur, I am suddenly in a quiet factory with no one around. Shock and sadness.

Tarkyn cut the connection to find Falling Rain staring at him, wild-eyed, “Did you wreak all that destruction?”

Tarkyn nodded, “More or less. My shield went wrong because I was upset and reflected the guards’ rays instead of just blocking them. I didn’t mean it to happen.”

“And what did you do to be brought before the court in the first place?”

Tarkyn showed him the events of the tournament, adding, “The charges were completely unjust.”

“And who are those two men passing judgement on you?”

“I thought you knew. They are my brothers.” Tarkyn’s throat tightened and he looked away into the soft light of the forest.  After a few moments, he cleared his throat and brought his eyes back to meet Falling Rain’s. “What now?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

“I want to see what happened after Tree Wind told you about the oath when you first came to the forest a few months ago.”

Tarkyn stared at him, feeling a knot of anger in the pit of his stomach. “I have shown no one this before. Not even Waterstone. At most, I have made a glancing reference to it. Remember when you watch it, that besides the instigation of the oath, I had just seen images of my father who had died when I was eight years old. You all may have hated him, and possibly with just cause, but I didn’t.”

I stumble away from Tree Wind, horrified, and seek sanctuary within a large pine. Feelings of sadness, despair, isolation. Visions of resentful, vengeful woodfolk surrounding me. I feel trapped within the forest. Waves of anger at my father then sorrow. I see an owl looking down at me. Comfort. I pull myself together and steel myself to go out and face the woodfolk.

Tarkyn cut back to the present to find Falling Rain watching him thoughtfully. Tarkyn returned his regard defiantly, refusing to be cowed by having exposed his vulnerability. Eventually, Falling Rain commented, “And I believe you must remain in exile and endure living among us?”

The prince nodded, “Yes to the first and no to the second. I must remain in exile but not alone as you were forced to do. And it is no endurance to live with woodfolk. In fact, I would no longer choose to leave.”

“How lucky for us,” commented Falling Rain sarcastically. “Hmm. So before I show you any of the events that I have endured, I need to know that you are capable of feeling for someone other than yourself who is suffering. Can you give me an example of that?”

With those few well-chosen words, Falling Rain diminished the value of everything Tarkyn had so far shown him. Before Tarkyn could stop himself, a huge wave of outrage burst from him and threw Falling Rain against the tree behind him. The woodman hit the tree with a dull thump and slid, senseless, to the ground.

“Oh no! Oh blast! What have I done?” Tarkyn scrambled to his feet and gathered the fallen woodman in his arms. The forest guardian drew on his power and sent a wave of healing gently through his hand into the woodman. After a few agonising minutes, Falling Rain stirred. He opened his eyes and found himself looking up into the anxious eyes of the sorcerer. He could still feel the soft stream of Tarkyn’s healing power flowing through him.