Bronze Magic (Book 1) Page 33

  As the prince walked past the firesite, Rainstorm fell in beside him. “You can’t just leave him there when he’s walked all this way to talk to you.”

  Tarkyn stopped and looked at him. “Did he ask you to say that?” Rainstorm shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes.

  “You’re very compliant, all of a sudden,” observed Tarkyn dryly, “I haven’t noticed you cooperating with other people like that.”

  Rainstorm brought his eyes back up and squared his shoulders. “That’s because I don’t necessarily agree with other people.”

  “But you do agree with Autumn Leaves.”

  The young woodman nodded.

  “What is the point of talking to people who don’t trust me?” exclaimed Tarkyn bitterly.

  Rainstorm gave a little smile, “You spent all morning talking to people who don’t trust you.”

  Tarkyn frowned at him, “No wonder you drive people crazy.”

  “How do you know I do?”

  “It’s obvious.” The prince considered his words carefully. “You’re the most perceptive person among them but you don’t know when to say what you think and when to keep your peace. So you tell people things they don’t want to hear… and then they get angry with you. Now you’ve sidelined yourself by being difficult and they’ve stopped listening to you.” Tarkyn bent down and picked up a dead stick. “Pity really. You’re worth listening to.”

  Rainstorm, unsure of how to respond, changed the subject, “Are you going to make that grow?”

  Tarkyn looked down at the stick in his hands. “This? No, it’s dead. I was planning on destroying it further, actually.” He grinned and said, “Watch.”

  With Rainstorm’s eyes on his every move, Tarkyn methodically broke piece after piece off the end of the stick until there was nothing left in his hands. There was a silence.

  “That’s it?” asked Rainstorm eventually.

  Tarkyn laughed, “Yep. That’s just a little something I do to fiddle while I’m chatting.”

  Rainstorm scowled. “Very funny.”

  “Come on,” cajoled the sorcerer. “You have to admit it was pretty funny – you waiting to see a fireworks display and me just breaking twigs like everyone else.”

  “Hmph. I suppose it was,” conceded Rainstorm grudgingly. Then he grinned as he overcame his wounded pride, “All right, yes. It was very funny. I’ll have to remember not to take you too seriously.”

  “And in return, I’ll take your advice and go back to talk to Autumn Leaves.”

  Rainstorm’s eyes met Tarkyn’s. “Good luck.”

  Tarkyn returned to the side of the stream and sat down opposite Autumn Leaves.

  Silence reigned for an appreciable length of time.

  Finally the woodman began. “Tarkyn….”

  Tarkyn’s eyes shot up from his contemplation of the river.

  Unnerved by their severity, Autumn Leaves faltered. “Your Highness,” he began again, “we have been desperately worried about you.”

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows and said coolly, “You had no need for concern. I made it impossible for you to protect me when I left. So your precious forest was safe.”

  Autumn Leaves frowned, “We were concerned for you, not the forest.”

  “You don’t even know me,” replied the prince sharply. “So how could you care for me?”

  “Of course we know you,” said Autumn Leaves in some bewilderment.

  The prince’s temper snapped. “If you knew me, you would know better than to double cross me. If you knew me, you would have trusted me with the knowledge of your fellow woodfolk. And if you knew me, you would have known that your duplicity would destroy the last vestiges of my trust.” Tarkyn got up and squatted beside the stream so that he could splash water over his face. When he looked up, he was calmer but his voice was hard. “But you do not know me and so we shall proceed from there. I now realise that none of you trusts me, and you know that I no longer trust you.”

  “Oh come on, Tarkyn.”

  “Oh come on, Tarkyn what? Come back so we can string you along again? I don’t think so.” Tarkyn rooted around among the rocks until he found a nice long dry stick.

  He sat down again and concentrated on demolishing it. After a while he looked up and said, “You haven’t got much to say, have you? Not like the time you were defending your friend Waterstone. You had plenty to say then. It’s not the same this time, is it? No righteous indignation this time. You haven’t got much to be righteous about, have you?”

  At last Autumn Leaves found his voice. “No, Tarkyn, we haven’t. We are all feeling very unhappy about what has happened.”

  “Am I supposed to feel gratified? No doubt it feels uncomfortable for you to have been caught out.” The prince flicked the last of the stick into the water. “My commiserations. I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

  “I don’t know that Waterstone will get over it.”

  “Waterstone,” said Tarkyn with venom, “will be weak with laughter at having duped me so completely, ably assisted by you, one must hasten to add.”

  “Neither of us has ever lied to you,” protested Autumn Leaves. “No need, when ambiguity and omission will serve you just as well.”

  “Stars above, you’re hard work, Tarkyn,” said the woodman, beginning to lose his temper.

  “So I have been told,” replied the prince maddeningly

  “I have come all this way to tell you we are sorry.... and we are. We were all caught between loyalties.” Autumn Leaves raised eyes to meet the prince’s. “If you think about it, you weren’t planning to tell Stormaway about these woodfolk, were you? So you too can be torn in more than one direction.”

  The prince raised his eyebrows. “The cases are not at all the same. Stormaway may feel loyalty to me. That is his prerogative, but I feel none towards him. He has foisted himself upon me and won’t destroy the oath at my request.” Nevertheless, Autumn Leaves’ words had at last opened a slight chink in Tarkyn’s armour.

  The heavy woodman stood up and stretched. He paced up and down a few times then turned and looked down at the prince. He took a deep breath and said, “Your Highness. Imagine if a foreigner came into your kingdom and took it over. Imagine that the person was actually quite reasonable and you grew to like him. At what point would you be prepared to tell this foreigner about all your friends and family hiding in the woods behind the palace? After a week? A month? A year? What if you knew that no matter what you thought of this foreigner, your friends and family would not want to meet him and would definitely not want to be ruled by him?”

  “If I knew and liked this foreigner so well,” replied the prince coldly “could I not have told him about these friends and family, knowing he would not interfere unless I agreed?”

  “What if you had sworn an oath from the first day you could talk, never to reveal the presence of your kin?”

  Tarkyn stared at him. Finally, he heaved a deep, deep sigh. “Then,” said the prince slowly, “I would have no choice but to remain silent.”

  A strange mixture of sadness, loneliness and resigned acceptance welled up out of Tarkyn and rolled out across the clearing and into the forest. All the woodfolk stopped what they were doing and looked across at him. Tarkyn, unaware of his public reaction, stood up and put his hand out to Autumn Leaves, “Here. I’ll help you across the stream. It will save you walking around.”

  “Thanks,” said the woodman, about to grasp it. Instead he found himself floating in the air and being drawn across the stream to land neatly beside Tarkyn. He staggered slightly and looked at the sorcerer with big round eyes, “Wow. I wasn’t ready for that!”

  Tarkyn smiled slightly but not with his usual exuberance. “Come on. Let’s see if we can get you a cup of tea or something.” He turned and waved his arm around. “I presume you know all these people?” It was then that he realised that everyone was staring at him. He stopped and frowned. “Is anything wrong? I didn’t promise not to use magic, did I? And I’m not threatening
anyone…”

  As Raging Water came stomping forward, Tarkyn braced himself for another tirade. The gnarly old woodman surprised him by giving him a couple of friendly thumps on the back and saying, “Come on, young man. It can’t be all that bad. Maybe we’ve all been a bit hard on you.” He steered the bewildered young sorcerer over to the firesite and sat him down, with his hand still on his shoulder.

  All the woodfolk gathered around him. Tarkyn was not fearful because they all seemed relaxed and even friendly, but he was confused. Even Autumn Leaves did not look sure that he knew what was happening. Someone produced cups of tea for everyone and they all sat themselves down around him.

  Raging Water addressed himself to Autumn Leaves, “I think you should know that this young prince of yours was willing to sacrifice himself to preserve unity among the woodfolk.” He drew his brows together in a fearsome frown. “And he nearly talked us into killing him so that you could all be released from the oath. The only thing that saved him was that we couldn’t assist you to betray an oath of honour.” The old man huffed, “It was a close run race, though.”

  Autumn Leaves was looking a bit sick. “Stars above, Tarkyn! What were you thinking? We don’t want to lose you.”

  Tarkyn who had been gazing steadfastly at the ground, looked up at this and said with a wry smile, “I’m glad there was a reason I could accept, for you not telling me about these other woodfolk. At least now I know that you would not have willingly misled me.”

  “But things are still not well between us, are they?”

  Tarkyn took a sip of tea, “They are as good as they can be,” he said carefully.

  Autumn Leaves frowned at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” put in Rainstorm, rolling his eyes at Autumn Leaves’ need for clarification, “that since he is not woodfolk, there will always be secrets he can’t know. So in some ways, he will always be isolated.”

  Tarkyn glanced at his feisty ally but his attention was then diverted by hearing sympathetic mutterings around him and receiving several more kindly hands patting him on the back. He shook his head slightly, thinking this was a very strange day.

  “Tarkyn, my boy,” said Raging Water, “I’m afraid things may get a little worse for you before they get better but I’m thinking there are some things we need to discuss amongst ourselves.And with a forest guardian arrived among us, we must bring together representatives from all regions of the forest and all groups of woodfolk to convene a gathering.”

  Tarkyn glanced at Autumn Leaves, “Remember when you said that we couldn’t gather all woodfolk together because it was unsafe to have large numbers together for too long? Was that reason genuine or was it really because of the existence of woodfolk who hadn’t sworn the oath?”

  The heavy woodman shook his head. “No Tarkyn. My objection still stands. We can’t have too many people congregated together for long. Raging Water’s intention of convening a gathering will help us to pool our knowledge without having a dangerously large group.”

  “I see.” A certain reserve in Tarkyn’s tone betrayed his belief that this suggestion would have been put forward earlier if they had been able to be straightforward with him.

  Before Autumn Leaves could fashion a reply, Raging Water cut in, “Even in doing this now, we are honouring you with our trust by introducing you to woodfolk you should, by rights, never meet.”

  “I would not wish you to betray your woodfolk oath,” said Tarkyn stiffly. “I suggest you confer amongst yourselves and keep me informed, as you see fit.”

  Autumn Leaves privately mourned the change in Tarkyn. His newly found, effusive assurance as guardian of the forest had evaporated. “What about your demand that we always keep you informed?” he asked.

  “I cannot make demands on people who are not under oath to me. And I can no longer expect you to keep me fully informed either, since you are restricted by your obligations as woodfolk. I would not use the threat of the forest’s destruction to override your woodfolk oath,” said Tarkyn, tacitly pointing out that he could if he chose to. “I will leave you to your planning. Rainstorm, do you think that if we persevere, we may be able to contribute a trout or two towards dinner?”

  For once, Rainstorm glanced a request for approval at Raging Water, before agreeing to accompany Tarkyn. This was not lost on Tarkyn who asked, as soon as they were clear of the others, “What was that all about? I thought you kept you own counsel.”

  Rainstorm gave a wry smile. “It was out of care for you, if you must know. I wanted to make sure they had said all they wanted to say to you, before we left. I know they were trying to make you feel better, even if they weren’t succeeding.”

  Tarkyn stopped and put his hands on his hips as he thought back over the conversation. “Hmm. I made it pretty hard for them, didn’t I?”

  Rainstorm grinned. “Very. But don’t think they’ve given up. They’re just regrouping.”

  The prince gave a short bitter laugh as he dropped his arms and resumed the walk to the stream. “It might be better if they didn’t try. Seeing the kindness that exists within woodfolk just makes the distance between all of you and me all the more difficult, now that I have lived… or thought I had lived, without that distance.”

  As they reached the stream, Tarkyn knelt down on the bank and rolled up his sleeves. “Never mind,” he said bracingly. “I am back in the role I was bred to. A prince exists above and apart from his people.” He smiled at the young woodman as he dipped his arm into the water, preparing to make a fool of himself again, as he tried once more to tickle trout. “And despite it all, I am still not as aloof as I was when I entered the forests.”

  Having no experience of princes, Rainstorm forbore to mention that he could not imagine anything more aloof than Tarkyn’s behaviour had just been towards Autumn Leaves. Instead, he addressed himself to diverting Tarkyn by tickling trout with him.

  aterstone and the rest of Tarkyn’s woodfolk arrived, footsore and weary, just as the evening meal was being prepared. Rainstorm warned Tarkyn of their impending arrival several minutes before they came into view.

  Tarkyn walked to edge of the clearing so that he could greet them away from the forestals. He had no real wish to see them but his sense of duty upheld him. As Rainstorm had pointed out, if woodfolk were to be united, he could not avoid them. Using all of his court training, Tarkyn produced a welcoming smile and let his eyes rove so that everyone mistakenly assumed that he was spending more time looking at someone else, when in fact he was avoiding everyone’s gaze. His determination to remain aloof was nearly undermined by Sparrow who ran at him beaming, and forced him into catching her by launching herself up into his arms.

  “Tarkyn. Tarkyn. We were so worried about you. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  Tarkyn smiled down into her earnest little face. “I’m sorry, Sparrow. I didn’t mean to worry you. I had urgent business with these woodfolk.”

  Sparrow nodded wisely and said with a resigned sigh, “I know. Adult’s business.” Then she gave him a cheeky grin and kissed him on the cheek. “Well, I’m glad we found you.” She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Dad has been so grumpy, you wouldn’t believe it.”

  Tarkyn gave a short laugh. “Has he? Well, let’s hope his mood improves with some food in his stomach.” He dragged his eyes away from Sparrow’s to address his group of woodfolk. “I apologise for alarming you. As you no doubt know from Autumn Leaves, the issues have been explained to me and I am now clearer about the expectations that are placed on you as woodfolk. In future, should I unwittingly trespass on sensitive areas, simply tell me that you are unable to answer. Now that I understand that you cannot be open with me, I revoke my requirement for you to keep me informed in circumstances where it conflicts with your woodfolk covenenant. I do not want to make your situation more uncomfortable than it already is.”

  The woodfolk before him glanced uncertainly at one another, wanting to talk to him and reassure him, but kept at ba
y by the formality of his words and demeanour. Waterstone made no attempt to approach him in such a public forum, knowing from Tarkyn’s courteous tone of voice, devoid of any true warmth, that the damage ran deep.

  Tarkyn waved an arm invitingly. “Do come and settle yourselves down. Dinner will be ready shortly and you will be astonished to know that Rainstorm and I have actually contributed three fine trout to the evening’s meal.”

  His attempt at lightness drew smiles from his audience and Lapping Water managed to say teasingly, “But I doubt that you cooked them, Sire.”

  Tarkyn looked at her, felt that he was a hundred miles from her and produced a smile. “No. I would not want to ruin our afternoon’s work.”

  Raging Water stomped over and gruffly reiterated Tarkyn’s invitation, adding suggestions on where to erect additional shelters. He glanced at Tarkyn’s set face and thumped him bracingly on the back. “Come on, young fellow me lad. Come and try some of that fine trout you caught.” As they turned to walk back to the firesite and Sparrow skipped off to play with some forestal children, the gnarly old woodman leaned in and said quietly, “And just remember, they did the best they could with the restrictions they had at the time. Do not condemn them for holding true to their heritage.”

  Tarkyn looked down at the old woodman. “I do not condemn them, Raging Water…and I am trying to be conciliatory. But I no longer know where I stand with them, except that it is not where I thought I stood. And I would rather err on the side of caution than be caught again thinking that there was openness where in fact, none exists.”

  Raging Water wagged his finger at him. “Now, don’t overstate the case. As I understand it, they have been open with you except for keeping a few private woodfolk matters to themselves. Now, get down off your high horse and give them some respect for the support they have given you when the rest of us shirked the responsibility.”

  “Yes sir,” said Tarkyn meekly, his eyes shining with laughter.

  Raging Water scowled. “And don’t you laugh at me, young man. I won’t have it. Just you remember that it is by our grace that you are still alive.”