Bronze Magic (Book 1) Read online

  A ripple of embarrassment hit the woodman as Tarkyn muttered, “My blasted feelings! I wish they would keep to themselves.”

  The woodman smiled and looked from the wizard to the sorcerer. “So. Are you two prepared to walk to the road, dragging the wolves’ scent? Tarkyn, are you recovered enough to walk that far at the moment?”

  Tarkyn glanced sideways at Summer Rain who was still in discussion with other woodfolk and gave a crooked smile. “I’ll have to be. To be honest, I will find it hard, I think. But the hardest part will be enduring Summer Rain’s disapproval.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Waterstone shrugged. “Unless someone comes up with an alternative, she will support you to succeed.”

  Summer Rain came back into focus and nodded. “But you and Stormaway must save your strength for the things that only you can do. Don’t push yourself too hard. You would be too heavy for us to carry.”

  Tarkyn stared at her for moment, thinking that finally she had cracked a joke. But no. She was, as usual, completely serious. The sorcerer flicked a glance at Waterstone and blinked.

  Waterstone smothered a smile but he did not allow himself to become distracted. “We have decided on a suitable patch for burying the remains about half a mile to the north. If you both follow me, I’ll show you where to start excavating.”

  With that, the woodman swung himself lightly into the nearest tree and headed off up into the higher boughs of the tree.

  aterstone ran lithely up one long branch until it began to bend under his weight, then jumped down and across into the next tree. From there, he climbed up higher again to repeat the manoeuvre to land in the tree after that. Sorcerer and wizard incanted, “Maya Reeza Mureva!” and rose gracefully to drift along beside the woodman. Stormaway sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m getting too old for this, you know,” he said in an aside to the prince.

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows. “That’s what you said yesterday but you don’t seem to have suffered any ill effects.”

  “That’s what I always say, but no-one listens to me,” responded the wizard mournfully.

  “Maybe that’s because you never stay anywhere long enough for people to care,” suggested the prince kindly.

  “What rubbish! We all care about him, as much as one can care for a slippery, devious, bigoted chameleon.” Waterstone broke off for a moment as he launched himself into the next tree. Once he had landed and recovered his balance, he added, between breaths, “Maybe it’s because he loves melodrama. He’s not that old, you know. Unfit perhaps. It’s not his age that’s the problem.”

  Stormaway glared at the woodman. “As you can see,” he said to the prince, “respect is a sadly rare commodity among these folk.”

  Tarkyn thought about all the conversations about respect he had had with Waterstone, Autumn Leaves and Stormaway and found himself so overwhelmed with possible responses to the wizard’s throwaway remark that he couldn’t respond at all. He resorted to diversionary tactics. “How much further is it?” he asked.

  Waterstone pointed ahead. “It’s over that next rise. There’s a rocky clearing on a gentle slope not far from the river. It needs to be somewhere that won’t be washed away if there is heavy rain.”

  “Hmm.” Tarkyn digested this then asked, “Not too rocky, I hope, or the trees won’t grow. Are we going to have to keep off the ground while we do this excavation?”

  The woodman landed neatly on the bough of a large horse chestnut, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. The site is a good half mile from where the wolves were killed and in the opposite direction from the trail we will lay to the road.” He considered as he stepped around the trunk of the tree and pulled himself lightly up onto a higher branch. “Maybe we’ll throw some water over the area when we’ve finished, to wash away your scent and footprints, just to make sure.”

  “Good idea,” said Tarkyn. “That will also help the saplings to establish themselves.”

  “Hmm. For someone who has never been a farmer or a gardener, you seem to know a lot about plants all of a sudden.”

  The prince looked a little startled. “I suppose I could have learnt it from the gardeners,” he said slowly, then shook his head. “No. I didn’t really talk to the gardeners much. I was more interested in chatting to groomsmen and men at arms.” He grinned, “Perhaps being the guardian of the forest comes with knowledge as well as power.”

  “Perhaps the knowledge is part of the power,” suggested the wizard, as they topped the rise and looked down a gently sloping, heavily wooded gully.

  Slightly ahead of them, Waterstone had now swung down out of the trees and was inspecting the ground in front of them. He stood in a small clearing, next to a low pile of tumbled rocks. The grass was sparse in this particular spot and the ground was strewn with small pebbles.

  “That’s not a cairn, is it?” asked Stormaway, frowning at the rocks.

  The woodman stood with his hands on his hips, studying the rocks. He bent over and pulled a couple of the rocks aside. “Not that I know of. I might just check.”

  After a couple of minutes out of focus, he reported that no one knew of any reason that a cairn should be there. “It must just be a natural grouping of rocks, I suppose.” He sounded doubtful. “Well, why don’t we keep away from it just in case it is marking something for someone?” He pointed to a space on the other side of the clearing. “We can dig our hole over there.”

  “And where is your shovel?” demanded Stormaway. “You don’t expect us to do it all, I hope.”

  “Of course. I thought I’d just sit back and watch.” Stormaway’s face darkened but before he could explode, Watertone said calmly, “Shovels are coming with the first load of carcases.”

  “So I assumed,” said Tarkyn dryly.

  The wizard glowered at them but Waterstone returned his gaze, completely unmoved, a cheeky grin hovering around his mouth.

  “Bloody cocky woodmen.” grumbled Stormaway, as he turned away.

  “Stormaway,” said Tarkyn, “do you have any suggestions as to how we might tackle this – other than just blasting the ground with power?”

  Waterstone intervened hastily. “You don’t want to send the soil too far away. We’ll need most of it to refill the hole.”

  Stormaway raised his eyebrows, “Obviously. We are not complete idiots, you know.”

  Since Tarkyn wouldn’t have thought twice about where the soil ended up, he nodded then shook his head in agreement, a smile lurking in his eyes as they met Waterstone’s across the back of the wizard.

  If Stormaway was aware of his antics, he gave no sign. “If we aim our power beams across each other’s and then moved them both in clockwise direction, the power rays should wrap themselves around each other. Since our individual power rays will have a different frequency of vibration, this should set up a dissonance and gradually destabilise the soil in that area, turning it from a sol to a gel; a similar effect to an earthquake. Then the loosened soil can be removed with very little effort.”

  “You see,” said Tarkyn to Waterstone, “how much I need to learn. I didn’t even realise our power rays vibrated, let alone at different frequencies.”

  The wizard shook his head solemnly, “Shocking. Truly shocking, that your magical education has been so limited.”

  “For once I agree with you,” said the woodman, “I think Tarkyn has been sorely neglected over the years since his father died.”

  Not wishing to add more fuel to their fire, Tarkyn kept a close guard over his feelings and said brusquely, “If you two have finished commiserating over me, do you think we could get on with it? How big do you want this hole?”

  Waterstone shot him a glance but said nothing and turned his attention to the question. “If we don’t want foxes or other animals digging the carcases straight up again, it will have to be at least six feet deep, and I’d say about seven feet in diameter.” He looked at Stormaway. “What do you think? Does that sound about right?”

  “Quite large, but I th
ink we can manage it.” Stormaway’s tone was noticeably more cordial towards the woodman.

  Oh save me! thought the prince, My neglected education has provided them with a common cause. Oh well, at least some good has come out of it, I suppose.

  “Come on then, Sire,” said the wizard as he positioned himself in front of the area to be excavated. “Stand next to me, about four feet to my right and let us begin. You will need to sweep slowly around the whole perimeter and then gradually speed up. Once my beam has travelled halfway around the circumference, focus your beam on the place I start from, then follow my lead.”

  Stormaway closed his eyes to draw on his power. After a moment, a strong green ray of light sprang forth from the wizard’s hand. It travelled slowly in a large arc. Tarkyn followed with a bronze beam that moved slowly along the same path as the green one. As bronze ray travelled the last quarter of the circle, it crossed over and touched the green beam of power. There was a sharp thwack as they connected followed by a persistent thrumming that grew in intensity each time the rays crossed each other again. Soon, the intensity of the light and vibration drove Waterstone back into the shelter of the trees. As he watched, the bronze and green rays twisted themselves around each other, over and over again. As the green and bronze rays swept more and more quickly around the circumference, the thrumming became louder and higher in pitch until Waterstone imagined he could almost hear the earth screaming. The earth within the circle was trembling and small stones bounced up and down as each ray swept past. Suddenly, the green ray snapped out, quickly followed by the bronze. An eerie silence filled the clearing.

  Waterstone and Tarkyn were both shaken by the intensity of the display of power, but Stormaway was quite matter-of-fact. “There. That should do it.” He stooped over the circle and effortlessly scooped up a handful of soil. “You see? We have shaken apart the connections between the particles of soil. It will take no time at all to clear this out. We could do it with our bare hands if we had to.” He looked from one to the other and added jauntily, “but I think we’ll leave it to those with shovels.” He frowned at the prince, who was looking a little wan, “Are you all right? “

  Tarkyn waved a hand, “I will be. I just need a rest after levitating myself here, then doing that.” He frowned irritably, “I’m getting bloody tired of being below strength.” He looked at Waterstone, “I seem to spend my entire life becoming tired and overtaxed. You people must think I’m a complete weakling.”

  “We do,” the woodman assured him, enjoying the shocked look from Stormaway that he spotted out of the corner of his eye. “‘Why can’t he hold up tree branches all night as well as all day’, we said to ourselves? ‘Why is he only holding up two at a time?’ we wondered. ‘Surely he could manage at least four?’‘Why didn’t he fight off all the wolves singlehandedly and keep us from having to use up our arrows?’ We’ve talked of nothing else, ever since you got here.”

  “Very funny,” responded Tarkyn trenchantly.

  Waterstone smiled unrepentantly. “It’s probably just as well you’ve been sick. Otherwise we’d all have been frightened off by the extent of your power.Well,” he qualified, “we wouldn’t be allowed to be frightened off. At least some of us would have to stay and be terrified. But if you had carried on like you did the first day, we would all be quivering wrecks by now.”

  “And if you lot had carried on the way you did that first day, I’d be dead by now,” retorted Tarkyn.

  “Ah, but of course, that was before we realised that only you can have any sort of power in any confrontation between us. In our dealings with you, even our physical prowess has been effectively stripped from us by the oath.” Waterstone spoke lightly but there was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice.

  Suddenly the bantering had turned sour. Chagrin swept across the clearing and the woodman received a clear image of the prince pulling away from him.

  “I am sorry, Waterstone, if I have made you feel powerless,” Tarkyn said stiffly. “That has not been my intention. Since that first day, I have tried not to flaunt my power. If you remember, I even gave you permission to hit me at one point.”He ignored the strangled gurgle that emitted from the wizard, “I cannot undo the oath. If it chafes you so badly, I give you permission to leave so that it doesn’t continue to confront you. Others of the woodfolk can protect me.”

  Waterstone stared at him, white faced. “Are you ordering me to leave?”

  Much to the two antagonists’ surprise, Stormaway intervened, “Now hold it right there. This is getting out of hand. I don’t want either of you to do irreparable damage to what is clearly a strong friendship.” Woodman and prince turned to stare at him. “Tarkyn, beware of your feelings riding your actions. Waterstone, the prince has given you the choice because he cares about you and doesn’t want to force you to stay in a difficult situation. Don’t force him to make your choice for you. If you do, he may send you away for your sake so that you don’t have to make the decision to leave him.” He frowned ferociously at them “And one more thing, Tarkyn. I’ve told you this before but listen again. For heaven’s sake, give people the right to feel resentful sometimes, without taking it too personally, especially if you are looking for honesty from them.”

  The prince let out a deep breath and relaxed. He ran his hand through his hair. “Thank you, Stormaway,” he said quietly. He turned back to his friend. “In answer to your question... no. I wasn’t ordering you to leave….and I don’t think I was going to, before Stormaway spoke. I have not been in the habit of ordering you around and I am not about to start now. I did note what you said though, that you wouldn’t be allowed to be frightened off. That’s why I gave you the permission to go. At least then, you can have choice about that.”

  Waterstone eyed him uncertainly, battling against a wellspring of previously concealed resentment. He put his hands on his hips and stood there looking at the prince silently for a few moments. Then in a sudden rush, he swung his arm up and around and punched Tarkyn hard on the jaw. Unprepared, the prince staggered backwards. A shimmering green wall flashed up between them. Any relief the woodman may have gained by lashing out at the prince was replaced by irritation at finding himself cut off.

  “Remove your shield,” Tarkyn snapped at the wizard. Rubbing his jaw, the prince glanced around at the trees. Not a leaf had moved. He returned his attention to the tense woodman who stood confronting him. “Come on then,” he invited, with a sparkle in his eyes. “Clearly my permission still stands. Finish what you’ve started.” He did not demean himself by offering assurances that he wouldn’t use magic and Waterstone did not need them.

  The woodman rushed at him low and hard. As he fell onto his back, Tarkyn brought his arms up before him, grabbed Waterstone by his shirt and hurled the woodman over his head. Waterstone rolled easily and turned in a couch to rush at him again. Tarkyn twisted himself around and threw himself upward from prone into a crouching position and put his arm across his chest as a barrier against the impending force of Waterstone’s next attack. Just before the woodman reached him in his headlong rush, the sorcerer twisted sideways, then swung his arm around to thump Waterstone’s back as he passed. The woodman went flying, driven by his own impetus with the added force of Tarkyn’s thrust. Waterstone lay still where he had landed.

  After a long moment, Tarkyn stood up and walked over to where the woodman lay unmoving. As he bent over him, a fist shot up and caught him between the eyes. Tarkyn went down like a stone and shook his head to find Waterstone laughing and sitting on top of him.

  Seeing a spark of anger in the prince’s eye, Waterstone shook his head. “Enough! Don’t go hurling me off into space again. I concede.” He laughed as he felt the prince’s muscles reluctantly relax under him. “I know it was a dirty trick but you’re bigger than me.”

  Tarkyn frowned up at the woodman, “I don’t see why you’re conceding, when you have me pinned down.”

  Waterstone smiled, “I’m not fool enough to think that I have you hel
pless, but I don’t want to fight any more. You fight pretty hard and so do I. One of us might get badly hurt and I don’t want that.” He climbed off and stood up before offering his hand to help Tarkyn up.

  The prince’s face was sporting two bruises and a cut on his eyebrow dripped blood down his front. Waterstone had come off relatively unscathed with a graze down one side of his face and a slight limp. They stood there looking at each other, breathing hard. Then a grin split Tarkyn’s face and they descended into relieved laughter.

  “Well,” gasped Tarkyn between breaths, “That made a change. I haven’t had a good wrestle for ages, even if it was short-lived.”

  Waterstone chuckled, “You’re a skilful fighter, aren’t you? No wonder you won this tournament of yours. I was being flung all over the place and you didn’t seem to be putting in much effort at all.”

  “You pack a pretty hefty punch and you’re devious, but I’ll remember that next time.” He pressed his arm around his ribcage. “Oh, my aching ribs,” gasped Tarkyn. “Remember the ribs? I don’t know how much good it did them, having you sit on me.”

  “Of course I remembered the ribs,” chortled Waterstone. “I’d never have tackled you otherwise... Laughing is probably still quite difficult with your sore ribs, is it?” he asked with spurious sympathy.

  “Yes, it is,” said Tarkyn grinning hard and trying not to laugh any more.

  “At least I gave them a good workout.”

  “Yes. Thanks for that,” replied the prince dryly. Tarkyn looked at Stormaway and smiled warmly. “Thank you for not intervening. I suspect that may have cost you quite an effort.”

  Stormaway gave a reluctant smile. “Except for the fact that we are in the middle of a complex operation and you will need your strength for other things, I would say it probably did you both a power of good. Unorthodox behaviour for a prince to spar with a commoner but I suppose there is no one else.”

  “Not so unorthodox. I have often trained with men at arms.” The prince glanced at the woodman, “Besides which, Waterstone assures me that all woodfolk are noblemen and women.” The prince entertained himself watching Waterstone do a double take while the wizard frowned in disapproval. Before Stormaway had time to remonstrate with him or the woodman, Tarkyn added fuel to the fire by adding silkily, “And I don’t think I would describe it as sparring really, would you, Waterstone?”