Bronze Magic (Book 1) Page 14

  “But, my lord,” insisted Thunder Storm, “how could you give him permission to assault you?”

  The prince looked at him steadily for a few moments, deciding whether to answer. Finally, he said, “Once Waterstone knew his daughter was safe, he was never going to attack me. I gave him permission, both to appease the sorcery of the oath and to give Waterstone an even playing field.” The prince shrugged and smiled wryly. “If he does come back seeking vengeance, I will just have to accept it.”

  “I think that’s very generous of you, Your Highness. I would almost say courageous, given you have your arm in a sling. But I gather, since you won that Harvester tournament, that you must be a skilled fighter.”

  Tarkyn narrowed his eyes, finding Thunder Storm’s remarks sychophantic.“Thank you. And now I think I need to rest.” Mostly from you, Tarkyn added to himself.

  It was several hours before Waterstone reappeared. He eyed the prince and sat down next to him. His face was pale and there were signs of strain around his eyes.

  “How is Sparrow?” asked Tarkyn with some restraint.

  “She is well,” replied Waterstone shortly.

  Silence ensued. Waterstone cleared his throat a couple of times but said nothing. Then they spoke simultaneously.

  “Waterstone...”

  “Your Highness...”

  Tarkyn nodded to the woodman. “You first.”

  Waterstone cleared his throat again. “Autumn Leaves told me that you defended me against Thunder Storm.”

  “Thunder Storm is a sanctimonious, old bore. He questioned my judgement and I was not pleased.”

  Waterstone glanced at the prince, taking in this disdainful side of him. After a moment, he asked, “How would you react if I questioned your judgement?”

  The prince raised his eyebrows. “You are not a prosy old bore. So I would listen.” He shrugged, coming down off his high horse. “I mightn’t agree with you, but I would listen. And in fairness, I did listen to Thunder Storm. I just didn’t like the way he spoke. He did have a point though. You did endanger the forests and your people.”

  Suddenly, Waterstone’s eyes glistened with tears. “I know I did. You should see the damage out there. At least one grand old oak tree has fallen and many trees have been damaged. Birds’ nests on the ground….” Waterstone cleared his throat again. “And although you stood up for me, I actually think my behaviour was reprehensible, regardless of the oath.”

  “Do you?” The prince’s amber eyes considered him, giving him time to squirm. “I suppose it depends on how you look at it. From the point of view of court etiquette, it was almost a hanging offence. In fact, in my brother’s court, I doubt that I could have saved you.” He paused to let this sink in. “From the point of view of a father protecting his daughter, it was perhaps a little aggressive but understandable – and at least you haven’t hit me yet.” Suddenly, Tarkyn twinkled at the woodman. “But the offer still stands.” Before the woodman could respond, he became serious again, “To be honest, I feel I almost deserve it. I’m afraid my reaction to seeing my brothers sent a huge jolt of emotion through the mind link and Sparrow caught the worst of it.” The prince ran his hand through his long black hair. “Waterstone, you have no idea! I was so frightened that I might have killed her. She just collapsed. Then when she opened her eyes and looked up at me, she started crying. I held her and did the best I could, one-handed, but it was ages before she went to sleep. I am so sorry, Waterstone. I would never do anything to hurt her intentionally.”

  The woodman waved his hand dismissively. “I know. Of course you wouldn’t. I knew at the time.”

  “But you were crazy with fear for Sparrow.”

  Waterstone nodded shortly.

  The sorcerer gave the woodman a little smile. “I’m sorry about the spells. I do not generally resort to magic to impose my will, but I couldn’t make you listen and the forest was suffering.”

  Waterstone glanced at him then looked away. “Hmph. I didn’t leave you much choice. Anyway, it’s a great leveller to be reminded from time to time how powerful you are.”

  The sorcerer grimaced. “Actually, I think we both need to know more about each other’s magic. For a start, had you people understood my magic better, I wouldn’t be carrying so many injuries and had I had time to learn about your mind linking properly, I may not have endangered Sparrow as I did.”

  Tarkyn saw Waterstone hesitate and added quickly, “Not today but soon. Tonight you need to go home to Sparrow.”

  he next morning, Sparrow and Waterstone came in together with the prince’s breakfast.

  “Good morning, you two. Are you better now, Sparrow?” “Morning, Tarkyn. Yes, I’m better. Are you?”

  Before he could answer, Waterstone’s voice cut in sharply. “I beg your pardon, young lady. What did you just say?”

  Sparrow thought back and repeated faithfully, “Morning Tarkyn. Yes, I’m better. Are you?”

  “Sparrow, you do not call a prince just by his first name,” scolded her father

  “But I did yesterday and you didn’t say anything.”

  “Hmph. I may not have noticed at the time, but I’m noticing now.” The prince in question coughed apologetically, “My fault, I’m afraid. I introduced myself to Sparrow as Tarkyn”

  “I see,” said Waterstone, although he was clearly at a loss about what to do next.

  The prince smiled, seeing his dilemma. “You may also call me Tarkyn, if you would like to. Maybe not on formal occasions, but the rest of the time. It seems a bit pointless to keep using titles so far from court.” Waterstone frowned. “I’ll think about it. I might forget who you are, if I stop using your title.”

  “I doubt it, especially after yesterday. Besides, I stand out like a sore thumb amongst you woodfolk. I can’t see you ever forgetting who I am.” Sparrow, who was waiting impatiently for this conversation to end, asked her question again. “So, are you better?”

  “Sorry, young one. I guess I’m getting better but I still have my arm strapped up...”

  Sparrow waved a dismissive hand. “Not that better. You know - feel better.” Tarkyn flicked a discomforted glance at Waterstone then looked back at Sparrow in some confusion. Sparrow frowned at him reprovingly. “You should feel better. I cried all your tears for you.”

  Light dawned. “Oh no, Sparrow. Oh, Stars above! You should never have had to deal with that.” Tarkyn shot an apprehensive look at Waterstone to find the woodman watching silently, his mouth set in a grim line. Sparrow shrugged and smiled, “Maybe it was easier for me. I’m still young.”

  Tarkyn thought about the enormity of his reaction to seeing his brothers. “No, Sparrow. It is not the job of a child to bear an adult’s burden for them.” Despite that, he realised that the big knot in his stomach had nearly disappeared. “But you know, I think you’re right. I do feel better, as in feel better.”

  “And I feel better because when I was crying for you, I started crying for me.”

  “You did? Why?”

  “Because I lost my mum.”

  Tarkyn glanced up over Sparrow’s head and briefly met Waterstone’s eyes before returning his attention to Sparrow. “That is sad. I bet you miss her.” When Sparrow nodded, the prince added, “I lost my dad too, you know, when I was your age.”

  “And now you’ve lost your brothers and your mum and everyone else and that’s why you were sad.”

  “Hmm. Yes.” Tarkyn sent a wry grimace in the woodman’s direction. “Neatly put, Sparrow.”

  The little girl hopped up and sat on the bed with her feet dangling over the edge. Once she was settled, Tarkyn put his arm around her. Sparrow smiled sunnily, “See Dad. Tarkyn and I are friends.”

  Waterstone ruffled her hair. “You don’t know what an achievement that is, young Sparrow.”

  After a while, it became apparent that Tarkyn had no hands left with which to eat his breakfast. So Sparrow was shooed off to play and Waterstone waited with him until he had finished.

 
There was an air of constraint around the woodman and his previous confident style in his dealings with the prince was conspicuously absent. He did not use the prince’s title but neither did he call him by name. “I think your strapping is coming off today,” he said neutrally. “Once you have both arms free, we can get you into a new set of clothes. Your own clothes were badly torn by your fall through the oak tree.”

  Even as he finished speaking, an older woodwoman entered the shelter. She nodded her head and said in a soft shushing voice, “Good morning, Your Highness. It is pleasing to see that you are looking better. It was uncertain for a while whether you would recover at all and whether you would have your wits, if you did. I don’t know if you remember me, I am Summer Rain.”

  Tarkyn smiled and inclined his head, “I believe you gave me a tonic on the first night. Am I right in assuming that you are the healer?”

  “I do have some knowledge in that area,” came the cool response.

  “I thank you for your care. I believe I do have my wits, at least as much as I ever did, although Waterstone may be a better person to attest to that.” When Waterstone merely smiled perfunctorily, Tarkyn gave a mental shrug.

  “How are your ribs, my lord?”

  “Very sore, especially if I laugh.”

  The healer delicately raised her eyebrows. “I would not advise laughing for the time being, if you wish to avoid pain.”

  Tarkyn glanced at Waterstone who did not show any reaction. Tarkyn felt his good humour evaporating. The healer seemed to have no sense of humour and Waterstone had become distant. For some reason, the woodfolk seemed to be closing ranks against him. Inevitably, Tarkyn became more aloof in response. He did not reply but waited for the next question.

  “And how does your shoulder feel?” asked the soft emotionless voice.

  “It is painful if jolted but quite comfortable if it is still,” he replied briefly.

  “Your shoulder has had over two weeks tightly strapped in place. I believe it will be safe to take the strapping off now.” The woodwoman, with Waterstone’s assistance, removed the prince’s shirt and then the strapping. The woodman’s eyes widened, when he saw the extent of the bruising that was revealed. Even after two weeks of healing, Tarkyn’s back and shoulders were almost totally covered with dark blue almost black bruising, a greenish tinge around the edges where the bruise was beginning to fade.

  “Wolves’ teeth!” exclaimed Waterstone, his voice, for the first time betraying some feeling. “You’re a mess. That walk to the river must have been agonising.”

  “Agonising might be too strong a word but it was difficult,” replied Tarkyn coolly.

  “However,” interrupted the healer, “a little exercise will be helpful in reducing stiffness.” She lifted his arm and moved it gently through its range of movement. “How is that?”

  Tarkyn flexed it carefully and grimaced, but said, “It is a great relief to be able to move it.”

  “As long as you are careful, it should be all right now.” Summer Rain picked up the bandaging and prepared to leave.

  “Thank you for all you have done to help me,” said Tarkyn with a smile.

  In return, he received a curt nod and no eye contact. His smile faded and his face became stony. Tarkyn struggled to contain a wave of anger that washed through him at her discourtesy. “Summer Rain, although I will make some allowances for your natural resentment of me, I will not brook deliberate rudeness. Do I make myself clear?”

  The healer nodded and looked up reluctantly at him, her face set. “Yes, my lord. Your pardon, my lord.”

  He took a steadying breath and asked, “Is something amiss, that you did not reply?”

  “Yes, my lord. There has been something amiss for more than a decade.”

  “Has this oath affected you so badly?” asked Tarkyn.

  “No, my lord. Not until your recent arrival. But because the king found us and forced us to foreswear our independence, my brother was exiled.”

  “And your brother is…?”

  “Falling Rain.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Tarkyn slowly as he thought back over Tree Wind’s memories. “But surely his self-betrayal was inadvertent? Didn’t he become so ill that he was found after falling from a tree?”

  “That is so, but he should have refused to answer questions. Instead he chose to betray our existence to the king and then show him how to find us.”

  “And the most fundamental tenet of woodfolk is that we remain hidden from the outside world,” put in Waterstone. “Our way of life and our safety depends on it.”

  Tarkyn began to feel he was fighting a rear guard action for this woodman he had never met. “But as I understand it, had he not brought help, many woodfolk would have died.” He looked at Summer Rain. “You’re a healer. In your opinion, how many would have died if help had not arrived?”

  “My lord, the sickness was virulent. More than half of the woodfolk were ill by the time the king and the wizard arrived. As it was, many people died. Without aid, our numbers would have been decimated. We may even have been wiped out completely.”

  Tarkyn frowned, “So how could such actions be condemned?”

  The healer shrugged, “The woodfolk decided that Falling Rain had betrayed the sacred trust of his people and that, regardless of his reasons, should be banished.”

  Tarkyn whistled under his breath. “For pity’s sake! That is a harsh judgement, when one could equally argue that he should be regarded as the saviour of his people”

  “Yes, my lord. It was very harsh. Yet a people’s saviour does not lead them into subjugation.”

  “Death or submission. That was the choice presented by my father.” The prince ran his fingers through his hair. “Stars above! Your poor brother. What a choice!”

  “In the end, it was all of us who made that choice,” Waterstone pointed out. “Falling Rain’s crime was making our existence known to the king.”

  “I see.”The prince thought for a moment. “And am I right in saying that this choice has not affected your lifestyle in the intervening years?”

  “Yes, that is true.” answered Summer Rain. “Except in the abstract, of course – in our view of ourselves and in knowing that one day, our debt would be called in.”

  “In the shape of myself.” Tarkyn considered the healer as she packed away her herbs and bandages. Finally he asked, “And do you think Falling Rain should have been banished?”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Waterstone quietly, “I have to go and check on Sparrow.” Since the woodman could easily have mind linked with his daughter, Tarkyn raised his eyebrows slightly in query. “And I’ll fashion a walking stick for you while I’m there,” added Waterstone quickly. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  When he had gone, the prince turned to Summer Rain. “What was that all about?”

  The woodwoman gave a gentle smile. “Waterstone does not want to become involved in influencing your decisions.”

  “I presume that means he has a strong view on this subject.” observed the prince.

  “Yes, he does but I would not betray his intentions by telling you what it is,” said the healer firmly.

  “Nor would I expect you to,” the prince retaliated stiffly. “But you have not yet told me your own views on your brother’s banishment.”

  The healer met his gaze steadily. “Until recently, I have always advocated that Falling Rain should not have been exiled, certainly not for such a long period of time. Many woodfolk agreed with me, especially those who had been saved or whose relatives had been saved by your father and the wizard.”

  “But then,” continued the prince for her, “I came into the forest and now the debt has been called in.”

  Summer Rain nodded. “And the forest has already been damaged twice in the short time you have been here.”

  Tarkyn thought of saying that the incidence of damage to the forest was likely to decrease as the woodfolk came to terms with the power of the oath, but on balance he decided that the
comment might be more harmful than helpful. So he merely asked, “So, what is your view now?”

  “As both a healer and his sister, I still believe that his betrayal of us did more good than harm. But now memories of the sickness have faded and the reality of your presence has swung away most of the support I might have had.”

  Politics is alive and well and living in the woodlands, thought the prince. He closed his eyes imagining the pull of opposing forces dragging at him. He took a careful, deep breath and gazed steadfastly at the floor as he thought through what he was saying, “So, on the one hand, you resent me and all I represent but on the other hand, you know I could choose to end your brother’s exile.” He raised his eyes to look at her. “And because Falling Rain was exiled for complying with my father’s wishes, it seems likely that I would champion his cause.”

  She returned his stare in silence. When he said nothing further, Summer Rain swallowed and said tightly, “And yet you will not.”

  The prince shook his head slowly. “I have not said that. I will think on it. However, I am facing enough resentment at the moment without overturning such a pivotal decision. I can’t do that on such short acquaintance. It would look as though I had no respect for woodfolk lore.”

  The healer’s gentle green eyes flashed. “I doubt there is much you could do to persuade us that you respect us. Meanwhile, my brother will suffer in exile to ease your passage into our society.”

  “Charmingly put, ma’am,” said the prince with heavy irony. “And on that note, might I suggest we close the discussion?”

  Summer Rain looked as though she would say more but the forbidding expression on the prince’s face stopped her. As she left the shelter, bearing her bag of herbs and bandages, Tarkyn relented enough to say stiffly to her retreating back, “Do not despair. I will not forget your brother’s plight. Thank you for your care.”

  By the time Waterstone returned, Tarkyn had managed to wash himself using the basin of water that had been left for him in the corner of the room and had dressed himself in his new woodfolk garb. The effort of this activity had depleted his reserve of energy and he was lying down recovering when Waterstone walked in, bearing a long sturdy staff of wood.