The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) Page 14

  By this time, Stormaway had passed beneath the last of the woodfolk and so none of them heard what grand schemes the wizard devised with the stalwart sergeant as they walked out of sight over the hill to the west.

  Chapter 13

  Shortly after this, the lookouts signalled the all clear and the woodfolk were able to cross the great west road undetected. For the next few hours they made good time through woodland sufficiently dense to provide cover, but well-spaced enough for them to thread easily through the undergrowth. Tarkyn was surprised when the woodfolk called a halt in the late afternoon, deep within a dark beech grove, and proceeded to set a fire and prepare the evening meal well before their customary time.

  “There are several miles of open grasslands ahead of us,” explained Running Feet. “It would not be safe for us to cross it in daylight. So we will rest here for a few hours and then travel on under cover of darkness.”

  “So I gather you’ve been this way before?”

  Running Feet raised his eyebrows. “Of course I have. There are many woodfolk living in the foothills of the mountains. There are caves beneath the mountains where we store the wines while they mature.”

  “So which group of woodfolk are they? And which group do you belong to?” asked Tarkyn.

  “They are called the mountainfolk. But I belong to the wanderers usually. People can switch and swap if they want to but we tend to gravitate towards a particular group.” He smiled, “Your home guard, as you call them, are all wanderers. I suppose we’re the woodfolk most adaptable to new ideas.”

  Tarkyn grimaced regretfully, “Oh dear. So when you went with the gatherers to avoid me, you were separated from your usual companions, were you?”

  Running Feet glanced at the prince and smiled wryly, “Yes. It seemed the lesser of two evils at the time. The gatherers are a friendly enough lot, so I was content to live with them for a while. After all, they do quite a lot of travelling too. Still, Waterstone, Autumn Leaves and Thunder Storm are my closest friends.”

  “I can see why.” Tarkyn thought for a moment, “These woodfolk in the foothills – Where do I stand with them? Will they know that I am accepted as a woodman? And did any of them swear the oath?”

  Running Feet shook his head. “None of them is oathbound but they do know that you are Waterstone’s bloodbrother. There were a few of them at the gathering and your inauguration ceremony but they didn’t stay for long.”

  “Hmm. We may have a problem ahead of us. And I’ve just realised I need to talk to Falling Branch. He and Rainstorm are the only woodfolk travelling with us who haven’t sworn the oath, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” The woodman sounded puzzled. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ll explain it to you later.” Seeing Running Feet’s face tighten, Tarkyn added hastily, “It’s not to do with trust. It’s to do with courtesy. You’ll understand when I explain it.”

  Once their early meal was finished, Tarkyn asked Rainstorm, North Wind and his brothers to meet with him before the woodfolk settled down for a few hours sleep.

  “What’s the problem?” asked Rainstorm. He looked around at the selection of woodfolk and said, “No. Don’t tell me. Let me guess. It’s the spread of the oath, isn’t it? We five are the only ones who know that more woodfolk have become bound by your sorcerous oath.”

  Tarkyn nodded unhappily. “A few issues are rushing up to meet us. We can’t just let it drift any longer. For a start, I don’t feel happy about you four having to keep information secret from the others. It’s not fair to you or to them and it’s potentially divisive. Secondly, I gather from Running Feet that we are heading towards a group of woodfolk in the foothills who believe they are not bound by the oath.”

  Looks of consternation passed between the gathered woodfolk.

  “We forgot about that,” admitted Waterstone.

  “And thirdly,” continued Tarkyn, “and most importantly at the moment, we all know that Falling Branch is labouring under a misapprehension and we are not being straight with him. I suddenly realised that he is the only member of this group who is directly affected.” He let his gaze travel around them. “We can’t talk to the whole group about it until we tell Falling Branch.”

  “You’re right,” said Waterstone, “And I feel uncomfortable not talking to Autumn Leaves or Thunder Storm about it too.”

  “And I have just had to fob off Running Feet by saying I’d tell him later,” added Tarkyn

  “Okay. So how do we want to handle it?” asked Waterstone. “Do you want to talk to Falling Branch on your own or with Rainstorm, or do you want one of us to talk to him for you?”

  Tarkyn gave a half smile. “No. I will do it. I owe him his privacy when he finds out and I feel responsible. So I should be the one to tell him.”

  Ancient Oak frowned, “But you’re not responsible. Your father instigated the oath, not you.”

  Tarkyn shrugged. “Perhaps it’s an inherited responsibility then. Be that as it may, it is between Falling Branch and me that the relationship may change because of the oath, so it is I who must work it out with him.”

  “You can call on me if you need me,” offered Rainstorm. He gave a little smile and looked around at everyone. “I guess you can call on any of us if you need us.” And even though this statement could have been a snide shot at the fact that they were all bound to serve Tarkyn, everyone understood that it was not.

  “Thanks,” said Tarkyn, “Okay. So once I’ve cleared this hurdle, we’ll discuss it with the rest of the group. Everyone happy with that?” When they all nodded, he stood up and headed off to find Falling Branch.

  He found the woodman sitting against a tree, skilfully carving a forked branch into a neat, symmetrical slingshot. Tarkyn sat down in front of him, “What happened? Did you break your slingshot?”

  Falling Branch glanced up briefly from his work. “No. We forestals specialise in making and repairing weapons. I’m making this for Golden Toad. He lost his when he was captured. When I’ve finished his, I’ll start work on slingshots for Rushwind and Ibis Wings.”

  “Can’t they make their own?”

  “Yes, of course they can. They probably wouldn’t be as well-crafted but they would do the job.” Falling Branch held up the half-finished slingshot to inspect its surface against the light. “But they have lost quite a lot of equipment. So I am making these to help them to recover and to offer them gifts to welcome them back into the fold.”

  Tarkyn watched in silence for a few minutes, admiring the smooth skill of the forestal’s knife strokes. “I’ve never seen Rainstorm doing anything like this. He’s a forestal, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t think Rainstorm has the necessary patience to do this yet.” Falling Branch smiled wryly as he continued to carve, “He may never develop it. He’s a bit of a handful, young Rainstorm.”

  Tarkyn gave a short laugh. “He has his moments, I agree. But never underestimate him. He has one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever come across.”

  At this, Falling Branch stopped carving and looked up. “Do you think so? You’re not just saying that because I’m his father?”

  Tarkyn boggled, “You’re what?”

  Falling Branch smiled broadly. “I gather he didn’t tell you, then?”

  “No. Neither did you, if it comes to that.” Tarkyn shook his head a little. “Is that why you came with us, to keep an eye on him?” he asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

  Falling Branch shook his head and laughed, “No. It was moredespite the fact that Rainstorm came. There are plenty of people here to keep an eye on him, including you. No. I came because I wanted to support you, our forest guardian, in protecting our people.” He dropped his eyes back to his carving as he shaved off another sliver of wood. When he had finished, he looked up at Tarkyn and smiled, “Mind you, I wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t had faith in you, forest guardian or not.”

  “Thanks, Falling Branch,” Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair, “Oh dear. This makes what I�
��m about to say all the more difficult.”

  “Why? What is it?” The woodman was all kind concern.

  Tarkyn resolutely brought his eyes up to meet those of the woodman. “I think that you and the forestals have become bound by the oath.” Tarkyn stopped himself from looking away or wincing. An apologetic wave washed around the woodman. “If this is indeed the case, I am truly sorry.”

  “Hmph.” Falling Branch’s eyes narrowed but he kept his gaze locked with Tarkyn’s.

  The silence lengthened. Several times the woodman nearly spoke but didn’t. Suddenly he threw down the half-finished slingshot, leapt to his feet and strode off through the trees.

  Tarkyn was left staring at the empty space vacated by the woodman.

  “Ooh dear,” he said quietly to himself, “That could have gone better.”

  Just as he was wondering what to do next, Falling Branch returned and stood glaring down at him, hands on hips, eyes sparking with anger. “So. Three questions. How long have you known? Does Rainstorm know? And who else knows?”

  “I have known since Rainstorm fought Danton and then turned on me.”

  When Falling Branch nodded shortly, Tarkyn continued, “Rainstorm knows. North Wind was there when I told Rainstorm my suspicions, which Rainstorm immediately confirmed by attacking me again.”

  “I can imagine,” said Falling Branch dryly. Although the woodman was still clearly angry, Tarkyn took heart in the glimmer of humour in his reply.

  “I also told Waterstone and I was obliged to tell Ancient Oak. No one else knows.”

  “I see. Fine.” Falling Branch turned away and took several brisk paces before returning to glower at Tarkyn, “So. Two more questions. Why did you take so long to tell me? And what will this sorcerous oath force me to do to protect the forest?”

  Tarkyn waved his hand and let it drop, “I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to upset you and everyone else until we had Golden Toad and his family safe. Since then, we have fought that ghastly infection and it is only now that things have settled down enough to think about dealing with it.”

  Falling Branch paced back and forth a few more times. “What if I had done something that triggered damage to the forest because I didn’t know?”

  Tarkyn shrugged and smiled, “I took a slight chance but I had no reason to think you would attack me and I made sure I didn’t give you any orders.”

  “So now I presume, you will feel free to order me around?”

  Tarkyn shook his head. “What do you think, Falling Branch? You know me well enough by now. You have seen me with the home guard, all of whom have always been under oath. I would not expect too much to change between you and me, would you?”

  “Only my sense of freedom and autonomy. Quite negligible really,” replied the woodman bitingly.

  Tarkyn’s mind wandered through a few possible responses but on balance he decided to say nothing. In the silence, a thought struck the angry woodman.

  “Do you mean to tell me that Rainstorm has known about this for over a week? And he has come to terms with it all on his own?”

  Tarkyn nodded. “He did talk to Waterstone and North Wind about it and to me, but he understood the need to keep everyone focused on the rescue. Despite your differences though, I think he found it difficult not being able to talk to you about it. So it has not been easy for him.”

  Falling Branch grunted. “I must say I didn’t think he could exercise so much self-control. The one silver lining in a very black cloud.”

  It was then that Tarkyn realised with dismay that he was never going to be able to re-enact this scene over and over again as each individual or group was told that they had become subject to the oath. He simply didn’t have a thick enough skin. He drew a deep breath and ploughed on, determined at least to settle things between Falling Branch and himself, “You do realise that I did not instigate this?”

  Falling Branch waved a hand impatiently. “I told you I trust you and, despite this, I still do. So I don’t think you would have doubled-crossed us like that. No, I know when it happened.”

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows in surprise, “You do?”

  “It was when Raging Water averred that woodfolk were all one people and that the forestals couldn’t help their kin to betray their oath.” Falling Branch studied Tarkyn through narrowed eyes, “Up until that point, we could have accepted your offer and killed you with impunity. But as soon as Raging Water acknowledged that we were all one people, it was as good as saying, ‘Their oath is our oath.’” The woodman let out a long sigh. “I’m sure that’s when it happened. Even at the time, the possibility fleetingly crossed my mind and I felt something - I’m not sure what - something like a slight shift in the feel of the forest.” He gave a wry smile, “But I blocked it out because I didn’t really want to contemplate it.”

  “It wasn’t Raging Water’s fault,” said Tarkyn gently.

  “No.” Falling Branch shrugged. “Anyway, he was right. We are all one people and we should never have left only some of us to bear the burden of fulfilling the oath.”

  “Waterstone did say that it had virtually created a class system of oathbound and oathfree; that they were made to feel like second class citizens, particularly the home guard who in fact showed the greatest courage and bore the greatest burden on behalf of all woodfolk.” Although Tarkyn words sounded objective, he was beginning to withdraw into himself. He stood up and dusted down his hands, saying briskly, “So. Now the burden can be shared among many and you can all commiserate with each other on an equal footing. Although I didn’t design this new development, I think it will be better for the unity of the woodfolk. But I know it will be difficult for those such as you who must come to terms with losing their autonomy.” He gave a wistful smile. “I think you’ll find Waterstone and Rainstorm and the others waiting to talk to you, if you want them. I’ll leave you all to it for a while.”

  Tarkyn turned to walk away but Falling Branch placed a restraining hand on his arm.

  “Tarkyn, I will go to them because I need to talk it through, but it will not be a diatribe against you.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And thanks for talking to me about it like this. I’ve seen you upset before and I know you are now.” He shrugged. “I guess we both have realities to accept that we don’t particularly like.”

  Tarkyn stared at the woodman for a moment. “You people amaze me. If this were the other way around, I would be gloating over any distress my oppressor was feeling.”

  Falling Branch gave a short laugh. “But if you were truly an oppressor, so would I.”

  Suddenly Tarkyn’s eyes twinkled, “You know, if this were Tormadell and you were a sorcerer, this would be the proudest day of your life, coming into service with me.” His smile faded a little, “But of course it’s not and you’re not. And I am sorry that you have been forced into it.” Unconsciously, he drew himself upright, “But if it’s any consolation, I feel proud to be a woodman and proud that you are my liegeman.”

  Falling Branch smiled and shook his head. “To be described as anybody’s liegeman is no consolation at all but it does matter that you are proud to be one of us.” He gave Tarkyn a little push. “Go on. Go and find Danton and talk to him about us while I go and talk to Waterstone and Rainstorm about you.”

  Tarkyn laughed, “I don’t know that I want to give Danton so much fuel for his fire.”

  “You can manage him. Go on. He needs you to need him.” So saying, Falling Branch turned on his heel and walked off, leaving a thoughtful sorcerer prince in his wake.

  Chapter 14

  Tarkyn procured some wine and a couple of goblets before setting off to find Danton. He found the guardsman sleeping a little way off, his head on his pack and his soft brown woodfolk cloak wrapped around him. As Tarkyn approached, Danton’s eyes flicked open and in one swift movement, he rolled up into a crouching position, knife in hand. When he saw who it was, he relaxed and his face lit up in welcome.

  “Good evening, Dan
ton,” said Tarkyn dryly. “Good to see your reflexes are still working well. I’m sorry I startled you.”

  Danton waved a dismissive hand, realised he still held the knife in it and sheathed it before giving a slight bow and saying. “I beg your pardon for my poor welcome, my lord.”

  Tarkyn smiled disarmingly. “I’ll make sure I make a lot of noise from a distance next time I approach you.” He looked Danton up and down, “The woodfolk clothing suits you. It highlights the purple of your eyes and your blonde hair.”

  “Thank you, Sire. We aim to please.” Danton sketched an ironic bow.

  Although Tarkyn realised Danton had been trying to get some sleep, he didn’t even consider offering to come back at a more convenient time. He knew Danton would never contemplate placing his own needs above the prince’s. Instead Tarkyn sat down against a convenient log and placing the two goblets on the ground asked, “Will you join me in a drink before we settle?”

  “It would be my pleasure, Sire.” Danton sat down next to the prince and accepted a goblet of wine. He glanced sideways and smiled, “And I don’t have to risk Waterstone’s disapproval by reporting our activities back to anyone…” he let his eyes rove around the surrounding trees and shook his head slightly when he saw no sign of woodfolk, “although I’m sure we are being monitored.”

  Tarkyn smiled. “They are uncannily clever at camouflage, aren’t they? You’ll never see them if they don’t want you to.” Tarkyn took a sip of wine and sat quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of the forest; birds chirruping as they settled for the night, the evening breeze whispering through the trees, stirring the sparse golden and brown leaves and somewhere nearby, the rustle of some creature pushing through a tangle of brushwood. “Hear that? That’s a stubborn old badger who is becoming incautious in his old age and has just shoved his way through a thicket instead of sneaking around it.”