Bronze Magic (Book 1) Page 37

  Stormaway frowned as he learned the reason for the prince’s flight. As several woodfolk filled the wizard in on Tarkyn’s deliberate surrender to the woodfolk’s will, his mouth became set in a thin tight line. Then his eyes grew round as he heard about Tarkyn’s inauguration into the woodfolk as a member of Waterstone’s family.

  When he was clear on the details, Stormaway turned once more to Tarkyn who was quietly concentrating on demolishing a long dry stick while everyone around him talked about him. “My lord, I wonder if you realise how great your achievements have been? The honour you have been accorded is breathtaking.”

  Tarkyn dropped the last of the stick and straightened his bandage a little. He smiled around at everyone and said, “Oh yes, Stormaway, I do. I told you before; I know exactly how much and how little I am worth.”

  Stormaway cleared his throat. “And might I enquire where I am left amidst all these changes?”

  “Stormaway, I cannot decide for the woodfolk. I don’t think you are in any danger, though, or Autumn Leaves would not have let us bring you to this firesite. Is that correct?” Several heads nodded. The prince placed a hand on the wizard’s shoulder and addressed the woodfolk. “As forest guardian, I need Stormaway by my side. He is a skilful powerful wizard who can teach me to use my own powers more fully. I know we don’t agree on the oath but I cannot force him to change. However, I’m sure he and I will continue to discuss it.” His amber eyes swept around the woodfolk. “Have you worked out what you are going to do?”

  Ancient Elm’s creaky old voice made itself heard. “We have decided to put up with you, Stormaway Treemaster, even though you created that disgraceful oath. Not only that, we have decided that, as our forest guardian’s companion, you should be included in woodfolk affairs as they concern our guardian. From what we understand, you have already assisted woodfolk against the evil that hunts us.” Her bony shoulders twitched in a shrug. “And if you’ve known about woodfolk for twelve years and haven’t let on, there’s no reason to suppose you would start now.” She gave a little cackle. “Besides, it is very handy to have a link with the outside world. We have all used you to trade our goods for us and it would be churlish to turn on you now.”

  The wizard raised his eyebrows. “I must admit I am pleasantly surprised that woodfolk not involved in the oath are willing to work with me. I can see I may have to re-evaluate my preconceptions of all of you woodfolk, but particularly of you, Your Highness.”

  apping Water carried the empty skin bag down to the stream and walked along a little way looking for a place where she could easily draw clear water. The morning sky was heavy with dark rolling clouds and the stream had swollen with overnight rain. She pushed past a bush growing close to the stream water’s edge and found herself standing only feet away from the prince, who was seated on the bank.

  When Tarkyn started and looked around, clearly discomforted, Lapping Water stepped back and prepared to withdraw.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” said the woodwoman nervously, “I did not mean to intrude.”

  Tarkyn reddened and held out his left hand, which was trailing his bandage, in a restraining gesture. “No. Please don’t go. I was just fiddling with this bandage and trying to get it back on.” He looked around him and nodded slightly downstream. “There is a good spot just there for drawing water.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Lapping Water walked around him and knelt to fill her waterbag. She watched Tarkyn out of the corner of her eye as he made one attempt after another to wind the bandage neatly around his right arm. When her waterbag was full, she hung it from a nearby branch and came over to him.

  “Here. Let me do it,” she said quietly. “It will be much easier with two hands.”

  Tarkyn glanced up at her. “Thanks, but I think I just about have it in place now.” Even as he said it, the other end of the bandage came loose and started to unwind. “Blast! No, I haven’t. Drat the thing.” He grimaced at her and gave a little sigh. “Very well, thank you. I accept your offer.”

  He held out his right arm and the bandage in his left hand. As she took the bandage and began to straighten it out, she asked, “Why didn’t someone do this for you in the first place?”

  “Someone did. I just took it off and now I can’t get it back on again.”

  A slight frown appeared on Lapping Water’s face but she didn’t ask anything further. As she began to wind on the bandage, her frown deepened and she looked more closely at the cut on his arm. “You can’t re-bandage your arm like this. There’s dirt in the cut.”

  “I know there is,” said the prince in a tight voice.

  Lapping Water brought her soft green eyes up to meet Tarkyn’s. “So why are you leaving it there? You must know it will hinder the healing?”

  A dull red had seeped into the prince’s cheeks. He dropped his eyes. “If you must know...”

  Lapping Water put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No. I don’t have to know if you don’t want to tell me. I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  Tarkyn raised his eyes and gave a half smile. “No. Having come this far, I will tell you…although I admit it is a bit embarrassing.” He took a breath. “I want to make sure the cut leaves a scar so I can carry it as a reminder…of being accepted by Waterstone and by all of you woodfolk.”

  Lapping Water smiled as she resumed the bandaging of his arm. “I think that is a fine thing to do. I suppose you could heal yourself anyway if it became infected, couldn’t you?”

  He nodded, rather surprised that she had taken it so prosaically. After a minute, he said, “Did you know I could actually feel Waterstone’s blood going around inside me? It’s beginning to fade now. I suppose it’s been absorbed into my own blood now, but to start with, I could have told you where every drop of it was inside me.”

  “Ooh, that sounds quite horrible.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did it make you feel queasy?”

  Tarkyn laughed. “No. It was just interesting.” He shrugged. “I don’t suppose Waterstone felt anything at all. I think it’s part of the forest guardian thing.” He glanced at the woodwoman to gauge her reaction.

  She finished tying the bandage then looked at him. “You still don’t feel comfortable about being a forest guardian, do you?”

  The prince shook his head. “It’s getting better but it’s all moving so fast: all of these new abilities emerging and developing. Growing plants. Talking to birds and animals, not in words, but you know what I mean. And weird things like turning green and healing myself and feeling Waterstone’s blood. Even being able to send images and feelings. I couldn’t do that before, either.” He shook his head again and smiled ruefully, as he rose to his feet. “It’s a lot to get used to.”

  “I suppose so.”Lapping Water walked over to the tree and retrieved her waterbag. “Still, it must be exciting, having all these new experiences. I’d give my right arm to be able to do what you can do.”

  Tarkyn smiled. “Would you? That’s pretty much what Rainstorm said. Well, words to that effect” He reached for the waterbag. “Here, let me take that.”

  “Why?” she asked unexpectedly.

  The prince frowned in confusion. “Why what?”

  “Why should you take the waterbag?”

  Tarkyn was taken aback. He suddenly realised any argument about gentlemanly courtesy wasn’t going to cut the mustard. “Well,” he said, “because I am repaying the kindness you showed me in re-bandaging my arm.”

  She glanced at him uncertainly. “I’m not sure that it’s proper.”

  “What sort of proper?” Tarkyn asked in some alarm.

  “Well, you’re the prince and we’re supposed to be serving you.”

  The prince breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, is that all? I can get around that easily enough. I insist that you let me carry your water.”

  “I can’t argue with that then, can I?” Lapping Water grinned. “You realise that if we hadn’t spent all this time talking about it, we could have been back at the f
iresite with the water by now.”

  “I can see gratitude is not one of your strong traits then,” said Tarkyn dryly as he walked back up the stream beside her, carrying her waterbag.

  Lapping Water flashed him a smile and answered, “Not for anything as trivial as that.”

  Just as he began to frown, Tarkyn realised he was being deliberately provoked. Hard on the heels of this realisation, came the uncomfortable knowledge that he didn’t know how to respond. He was rescued from his predicament by the spectacle of a large group of woodfolk congregated in the clearing, clustered around Tree Wind and the harvesters.

  “Oh look, the harvesters are about to report on what they found at the end of the wolves’ tracks.” Lapping Water’s eyes twinkled at him, “They would have done it yesterday but other issues took precedence.” She took off and called over her shoulder, “Come on. The harvesters should be able to tell us where the riders and wolves came from.”

  Tarkyn followed more slowly, surveying the clustered woodfolk. He skirted the edge of the firesite and found somewhere to hang the waterbag. Then he stood under the shadow of the tree and watched while everyone milled around, smiling, chatting and mind talking to each other. The prince felt a deep sense of contentment that these were his people. But at the same time, he knew that when they became aware of him standing there, he would become the centre of attention. Standing apart was a quiet pleasure, he reflected, when one could choose to be a part of things.

  Inevitably, someone noticed him standing there and almost immediately there was a lull in the conversation.

  “Ah, Your Highness,” said Tree Wind, “Now that you have graced us with your presence, we can begin.”

  Tarkyn inclined his head, thinking that his new status as a woodman showed no signs of shielding him from Tree Wind’s antipathy. “I beg your pardon. I did not realise that you were waiting for me.”

  Tree Wind continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “There is an encampment of many men about forty miles due west of here,” she explained out aloud, mostly for the benefit of Stormaway and Tarkyn. “The horsemen and the wolf returned there. The young man who led them has other trained wolves chained up in the encampment.”

  “How many sorcerers? Any wizards?” asked Stormaway.

  Tree Wind shrugged, “I don’t know the difference between sorcerers and wizards but I can tell you there were at least three, maybe four hundred of them.”

  “Three or four hundred?” The wizard whistled. “That’s the beginning of a small army. Were they all men? Or were there women and children as well?”

  The woodwoman thought carefully. “I would say about three quarters were men. The rest were women and children. Many of them looked like the travellers you see along the woodland roads.”

  “So, were they bandits?” asked Tarkyn.

  Tree Wind avoided his eye but answered his question, “No, my lord. I don’t think so. I don’t know what they are doing in the forest but they don’t look like they are planning to clear trees for farming and they don’t look as rough as the usual bandits. I think we will have to watch them and try to work out what they are up to.”

  “Other than trying to hunt down woodfolk, you mean,” said Thunder Storm dryly.

  “Yes.” After a slight hesitation, Tree Wind added, with the faintest undertone of derision, “Although perhaps His Highness was mistaken in his vision of that.”

  “Perhaps I was,” answered the prince silkily. “For those of you who did not see it the first time, would you like me to repeat the image of the wolves’ attack and the arrival of the riders at the scene of the wolves’ deaths? Then you can draw your own conclusions. Perhaps you may notice things we missed.”

  Because he was annoyed with Tree Wind, Tarkyn did not warn anyone to sit down. Consequently, woodfolk fell like ninepins as his image of the eagle took them soaring over the forest to see the wolves’ approach. The group that Tarkyn had begun to think of as his home guard all knew what was coming and had managed either to sit down in time or brace themselves to stay upright.

  “Tarkyn. Stop it,” whispered Autumn Leaves, smothering a laugh. “This is serious.”

  “So is being doubted. Hang on!” said the sorcerer unrepentantly. “After the wolf attack, I’ll show you the swallow’s view of the hunters riding through the bush. The eagle’s flight was easy, compared to this one.”

  The fallen woodfolk wisely decided not to try to stand up until the visions were finished. Even so, many of them looked a little pasty by the time they had seen the forest below them through the swallow’s eyes as it bobbed and swooped its way through the air. The owl’s view of the wolf and horsemen’s arrival was more measured and they were able to recover before the images concluded.

  There was a stunned silence as the woodfolk unused to Tarkyn, took in the scope of the forest guardian’s connection with the woodlands.

  “Of course,” said Tarkyn in an off-hand manner, completely unmoved by their reaction, “I may be providing you with inaccurate or mistaken images. I don’t know how you can be sure.” His eyes glittered with anger.

  “Now calm down, young man,” said Raging Water, “No need to fly into your high boughs. I think we would all like you to be mistaken because the alternative, that someone knows about woodfolk and is trying to hunt us down, is a pretty frightening concept.” He huffed out his cheeks. “However, I’m sorry to say I think your images are quite conclusive and we have a serious problem on our hands.” As an afterthought he added, “It’s just as well we didn’t kill you. I think you’re going to come in quite handy, one way and another.”

  This last comment finally drew a smile from the offended sorcerer. Tarkyn gave a small bow. “Happy to be of service.”

  “Oh my word! He’s bowing again.” Raging Water frowned repressively, “In that case, young Tarkyn, what else do you have to offer us as our forest guardian?”

  The sorcerer thought for a moment. “Protection if you are under attack, perhaps.” Tarkyn nodded at the edge of the clearing. “If a band of sorcerers or wolves came rushing in here, I could throw up a shield to protect us all, like so,” A bronze dome appeared around them. “But you probably can’t get out any more than they could get in.” Only the conversational tone of the sorcerer’s voice saved the woodfolk from wholesale panic as they found themselves trapped. “Go on. Waterstone, try to get out. It won’t hurt.”

  Waterstone pushed hard against the translucent bronze barrier. It bulged slightly but showed no signs of giving way. Tarkyn turned to the wizard. “Is there a way of making it possible to leave the protection of the shield while keeping it strong against attack?”

  Stormaway shook his head. “I don’t think so….unless you can raise it a little on one side?”

  The sorcerer focused on changing the shape of the shield so that it wasn’t a complete hemisphere. A small gap appeared along the ground near Waterstone.

  “Try that,” he said to Waterstone. When the woodman looked askance at him, the sorcerer added, “Don’t worry. It won’t fall down on you, as long as I concentrate. But even if it does, it won’t go through you.” He glanced at Stormaway for confirmation. “I think the worst that could happen is that you would be pinned to the ground until I removed the shield.”

  The wizard nodded.

  Waterstone took a deep breath and began to wriggle his way under the shield. As the woodfolk watched, the shield dropped slowly down and held Waterstone in place. His eyes widened with fear.

  “It’s quite safe, Waterstone,” said Tarkyn, sending a wave of reassurance to everyone in general. “Tell me if it becomes too uncomfortable. I am slowly lowering that side of the shield to see what happens. At a word from you, I’ll remove it.”

  Waterstone exerted an extra effort and after several attempts that each became more frantic than the last, pulled himself free. Even before he had rolled around and stood to face Tarkyn, white faced and angry, the shield had winked out of existence.

  “Blast you, Tarkyn! That was fright
ening,” growled the woodman.

  “Sorry. You could have stopped me.” Tarkyn smiled ruefully at him. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, although it was very firm pressure. I think the little ones would panic if they got caught like that.”

  “It’s not something I would plan to happen. I just need to know where we stand if you are all trying to leave and something distracts me.”

  “On the other hand,” said Tree Wind dryly, “we could just disappear.”

  “I agree.” Tarkyn looked at her steadily. “Go on then. Demonstrate.”

  In the blink of an eye, Tree Wind was gone.

  The sorcerer’s mouth quirked, “Not just Tree Wind. Everyone. I want to see how safe that will make you from wolves and sorcerers.” He turned around as he found himself talking to thin air. “Stars above, you people are brilliant. I wish I could do that.” He turned to Stormaway. “Do you know where they are?”

  Stormaway looked around carefully. “They are hiding in the trees and bushes around the clearing.”

  Tarkyn stood with his hands on his hips, letting his gaze travel slowly across the foliage of the trees and bushes. Gradually, his eyes tuned in and then, as he focused in on the occasional flicker of movement, he could make out the dim outline of some part of a person.

  “You can come back now, if you’d like to.”

  Immediately he was surrounded by woodfolk as before. He frowned around the group until he spotted Autumn Leaves.

  “Autumn Leaves, I distinctly remember you telling me that woodfolk don’t have any magic. So what do you call that, then?”

  The big woodman shrugged. “We all do it. It’s nothing special.”

  “It certainly is special,” retorted the sorcerer. “I can’t do it. Neither can Stormaway, I would think.”

  The wizard shook his head in confirmation.

  “So, how do you do it?” asked Tarkyn.

  “We just think ourselves somewhere else and hidden,” replied Autumn Leaves.

  “And how far can you go?”

  “I don’t really know. Not far. It has to be somewhere in sight.”