Bronze Magic (Book 1) Read online

  Tarkyn smiles sunnily at her. “He’d be right.” Confronted by Sparrow’s admonitory stare, he threw up his hands, “All right, all right. I’m sorry I’ve made everyone walk all that extra distance. Satisfied?”

  Sparrow gave a sharp nod, her mouth tightly compressed to stop herself from laughing.

  The sound of running footsteps outside was followed by someone scrambling their way through the brush screen that served as a door. A sodden woodman plunged inside, to land sprawled on the floor.

  “Hello,” said Sparrow. “You’re sopping.” She turned to the prince. “Have you got a towel anywhere?”

  Tarkyn reached into a pile in the corner, extracted a towel and threw it to their visitor.

  “Thanks,” said the woodman as he set about drying himself off and pushing the wet hair out of his eyes.

  “Stars above. Your shelter must have leaked a lot,” said Sparrow sympathetically.

  The woodman nodded. “It did. We only arrived here yesterday and with all that was going on, we didn’t really put as much time into our shelters as we should have. Just our luck that the weather has come up so badly.”

  Sparrow gave a puzzled frown, “What was going on yesterday?”

  “Oh, you know,” replied the woodman, “That bloody prince throwing his weight around; beginning with a taster in the morning and finishing with a double whammy in the evening.”

  In the dim corner of the shelter, Tarkyn smiled evilly. “Yes,” he said, at last attracting the woodman’s attention. “I was quite proud of the double whammy.”

  The woodman’s eyes widened in alarm. He made a dive for the door but Tarkyn’s barrier reached it first.

  “Not so fast, my friend,” said the prince, an undercurrent of threat in his voice. “We can’t have you running around in this heavy rain. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

  Sparrow turned her gaze from the woodman to the prince and frowned at him. “Stop being so mean, Tarkyn. You’re scaring him.”

  Tarkyn looked steadily at her for a moment. “Hmph.” Then he shrugged and smiled at her. “You’re right, young one. I suppose he has a right to his opinions – I’m not letting him go, though.”

  Sparrow smiled cheerily at the trapped woodman. “Well, that’d be silly, wouldn’t it? You don’t want to get wet again, do you?”

  The woodman turned a stricken face towards the prince. “My lord. I apologise for my rash words. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows. “Of course you didn’t. You didn’t intend me to hear what you were saying. But please don’t compound your transgression by offering me an empty apology.”

  Suddenly the prince leaned forward in the gloom to study the woodman’s face. “Oh Stars above! You’re Running Feet, aren’t you?”

  “I’m surprised you remember me,” replied the woodman bitterly.

  Tarkyn grimaced. “Oh, I remember you, all right. I have nightmares about levitating you and threatening to drop you. I was so angry at being unable to leave the forest and I thought you people were to blame. But that is no excuse. I should never have done it.” He sighed. “You above anyone, have every right to a poor opinion of me… I apologise yet again for frightening you, then and now. I will release the shield on the door but I would ask you to stay. It’s absolutely throwing it down out there.”

  The hunted look did not disappear from the woodman’s face.

  Tarkyn frowned. “I’m not ordering you to stay, only offering. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll contract to stay up this end and you can stay down there.” Given the restricted size of the shelter, this amounted to little more than a gesture of goodwill. He turned to Sparrow, “Do we have anything to eat?” When Sparrow nodded, he asked, “Could you get it out please and offer some to our guest – if he’s staying, that is.”

  At Running Feet’s reluctant nod, Sparrow rooted around in the corner and produced some bread and cheese with two plates. She gave one to Running Feet, saying, “It’s okay, you have this plate. Tarkyn and I will share.”

  Running Feet looked askance at the offered plate. “I think I should be sharing with you,” he said to Sparrow. “His Highness should have his own plate.”

  “No. Don’t worry. I share all the time with my uncle,” Sparrow grinned, “mainly because he never gets his own.”

  Running Feet was nonplussed by this answer and accepted the offered plate with reluctance.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes!” exclaimed the prince, losing patience. “It’s only bread and cheese. You two have a plate each and I’ll just hold mine. There. Are we all happy?”

  Running Feet looked anything but happy, but wisely held his peace. When they had finished their austere meal, Tarkyn went back to studying Sparrow’s map.

  “If we cut the diagonal again,” he said, “we can get to a place 12 miles due west of our last campsite and we will only have travelled 20 miles.”

  Sparrow chortled. “That’s great, isn’t it? Only eight extra miles.”

  “Ah yes, you may laugh, but that’s only eight extra miles altogether” said Tarkyn, smiling. “And if we don’t cut the diagonal, it will be further, I promise you.”

  Sparrow peered down at her reconstruction of the forest paths and became more serious. “But where are the paths taking us? That’s the question. You can’t just go in a straight line if it leads you through a bog or over a cliff.”

  Despite himself, Running Feet leaned in to have a look. “We’ve just come from over that way.” He said, studying Sparrow’s diagram. He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve made a pretty good job of this, young lady. Look. There’s the way we came. You have to go around a small brambly patch here and there’s a long exposed area of heather there. You really have to skirt around it even though it’s easy walking because you are too far from cover. But basically, His Highness is right. You can cut the diagonal to get you back over the road. There’s quite a good place to cross just where it bends down to the southwest before straightening out to head west again. See? There.”

  “Running Feet, where’s the encampment?” asked Tarkyn.

  The woodman glanced at the prince then drew an extra line in the dirt that extended the map out to the west. “About here,” he said, “Pretty much due north of the point where you will turn to head south over the mountains.”

  “How far due north of our path?”

  Running Feet screwed up his face while he considered it. “Twelve, maybe fourteen miles due north. Not far. You’ll have to take extra care around there. They may have riding patrols that far south. They certainly will have them near the road and that will only be two or three miles north of your path.”

  Tarkyn whistled. “That’s going to be dangerous, especially for the littlies like this one,” he said, ruffling Sparrow’s hair.

  “I’m not little. I fought against the wolves.”

  Tarkyn transferred his gaze to give her his full attention, “When it comes to men as big as me on horse back, we’re all going to feel little. And I don’t want any heroics from you, young lady. You make sure you stay with one of us all the time. You promise? I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

  Sparrow looked at him for a serious moment then climbed up onto his cross-legged lap and leant against him. Tarkyn put his arms around her and gave her a kiss on the top of the head. “Don’t worry, little one. We’ll look after you. That’s why it’s good to talk to people like Running Feet who can tell us what to expect.”

  The prince looked up to find Running Feet watching him with a strange expression on his face. Tarkyn frowned, “Is anything wrong?”

  The woodman shook his head. “No. No, you’re just a little unexpected, that’s all.”

  Tarkyn smiled and gave Sparrow a little squeeze. “Oh, don’t be fooled by this. I’m still the same arrogant, autocratic bastard you all love to hate. No one’s bad all the time.”

  Finally, an answering smile dawned on the woodman’s face. “I’m beginning to think you’re not very bad at all.”


  Tarkyn gave a wry grin. “Coming from you, that is high praise indeed. You know, I never set out to be bad. In fact, to be honest, the only really bad thing I have done is what I did to you. Everything else is a matter of opinion.” He looked down at the top of Sparrow’s head. “And let’s face it; at least I’m not as bossy as this little madam.” For which statement, he received a jab in the ribs. “Ow. Just as well my ribs are healed, isn’t it?”

  “You are so more bossy than me,” came a muffled voice. “Running Feet said so.”

  The prince raised his eyebrows at the woodman who looked mildly horrified at this turn of events. “Now look at the trouble you’ve landed me in.” Tarkyn addressed the top of Sparrow’s head again. “Okay. Maybe yesterday I was more bossy. But I’m not usually.”

  Sparrow lifted her head and Tarkyn was relieved to see she was laughing. “Oh yes you are. Daddy says so. But,” she added kindly, “he says you’re not as bossy as you used to be.”

  “Waterstone: Fount of all wisdom,” explained Tarkyn. He frowned. “I really don’t know what you woodfolk found to talk about before I came along. I seem to be a source of constant entertainment for all of you.”

  Unexpectedly, Sparrow’s eyes met Running Feet’s and they grinned at each other.

  The prince sighed. “Well, that says it all, really. By the way Running Feet, just to put you out of your misery, we all realised I had come on too strongly yesterday morning. So I decided I might as well say everything I needed to say and then leave. Hence your double whammy.” Tarkyn smiled reminiscently. “Even Waterstone was shocked by that little effort, especially by what I said to Tree Wind and your group.”

  He paused, then asked Running Feet, “Have you spoken much to Waterstone or to any of the others who have been with me?”

  Running Feet hesitated then shook his head. “Not very much. To be honest, I didn’t really want to know.”

  “Have any other people in the harvesters and gatherers?”

  Running Feet shrugged, “Not much. Maybe Ancient Oak, but he tends to keep his own counsel. Generally, I think everyone has been trying to ignore the fact that you are here and that the oath has been invoked.”

  “Blast it!” exclaimed the prince. He waved a reassuring hand when he saw Running Feet flinch. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry with you. But I’ve just realised that I have seriously overestimated how much you communicate to each other with your mind talking. I thought everything that was happening with us was being communicated to you.” He took a deep breath. “No wonder there is still so much resentment among you. You’re still back with your impressions of me from the first day. In fact, all you’ve had to work with, is me losing my temper and threatening everyone and, as I found out only two days ago, the fact that I inadvertently forced another forty hapless individuals to take that blasted oath.” He looked at Running Feet. “On top of that, there are people like you and Tree Wind who would have been feeding the resentment.”

  Seeing the shutters go down in Running Feet’s face, Tarkyn continued quickly. “Oh, I don’t blame you. I don’t know what Tree Wind’s particular problem is, but you have every justification for undermining me.” He sighed, “The question is, what are we going to do about it?” Tarkyn waved his hand impatiently. “Stop looking so worried. I’m not going to do anything to you. I want your help to reduce the resentment.”

  “Why should I help you?” Surprisingly, this was not said belligerently.

  The prince stared at him. Finally he said, “Not for my benefit particularly, if that’s what you’re wondering – although I can’t say I enjoy being the focal point for all that antagonism.” Tarkyn frowned.“I suppose there are three main reasons. Firstly, if I request your cooperation as your forest guardian, I don’t want resentment to undermine the safety of woodfolk or the forest - which is what I saw happening yesterday. Secondly, I don’t want the people with me to become unfairly isolated from other woodfolk because I am with them.” He paused and the side of his mouth lifted into a self-deprecatory smile. “And thirdly, I really don’t want you living in dread of how I might treat you all, under the terms of the oath.”

  Running Feet raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. Those are very persuasive reasons.”

  Tarkyn looked at him quizzically, “What did you think I’d say? That you owe it to me because of the oath?”

  “Something like that. Well, you could just order me to help you.”

  “What? And risk the forest’s welfare while you try to find ways to undermine me?” The prince shook his head. “You can’t just order resentment to go away. If you could, I would have done it long ago.”

  “So, do none of the woodfolk with you feel at all resentful at having to serve you? I find that hard to believe.”

  Tarkyn put his head on one side as he considered. He gave a Sparrow a little push in the ribs and asked, “What do you think, young madam? Do people still resent me?”

  Sparrow looked up and frowned, “What do you mean? Do they get mad at you? Only sometimes.”

  Tarkyn smiled. “That wasn’t quite what I meant, but it will do.” He looked up at the woodman. “Sometimes the resentment wells up. Waterstone and I came to blows over it the other day.” Tarkyn ignored the shocked incomprehension on the woodman’s face. “Mostly, we’re all right. It’s not easy, but it can be better than what I see amongst the harvesters and gatherers. And, if you ask them, I think you’ll find that my little group would rather have me than not, now.”

  Sparrow nodded her confirmation of this.

  “In fact, I think they’re even quite proud of me now that we’ve worked out I’m a guardian of the forest.”

  Sparrow nodded even more vigorously. “Although he didn’t look too good when he was green.”

  Running Feet frowned in consternation as Sparrow sent him an image of the green Tarkyn.

  Tarkyn laughed at his expression. “Not a good look, was it? That was the healing force of an old oak tree. I think I might have overdone it a bit. Still, as you can see, it faded over time.”

  Running Feet blinked as he took all this in. He was silent for a couple of minutes, then finally said, “Very well. I am prepared to help, now that I understand why it is important. What do I need to do?”

  The prince thought carefully. “Update your people on what has been happening since I arrived in the forest. Talk to the forestals and the home guard and give them a fair hearing. I promise you I haven’t ordered them to say anything in particular.”

  Running Feet looked puzzled. “Who are the home guard?”

  Tarkyn glanced at him. “Now, this is not for public consumption, but that is what I privately call the people who have stuck by me.”

  “Do they know this?”

  “Yes. I let it slip out yesterday by mistake. They all went into deep shock but they are gradually recovering.” Tarkyn laughed at the look of consternation on Running Feet’s face. “No, they didn’t. They don’t mind. In fact, Ancient Oak and Rainstorm have aspirations of joining.”

  Running Feet shook his head a little as he dealt with one impression after another from the prince. He gave a slight smile and said ruefully, “Even if I do update everyone, I suspect there will always be some resentment, my lord.”

  Tarkyn gave a bitter laugh, “I’m sure there will be. Woodfolk such as Sun Shower know all that has happened, aren’t even under oath and still resent my subtle leadership style. So it’s not going to cure anything. It just might make it a little more manageable.”

  “So, from your point of view, what has happened since we left you?”

  Tarkyn acknowledged the woodman’s subtly expressed scepticism with a slight smile before sketching out events since he had regained consciousness; repairing the forest, his discussions about etiquette with Waterstone and Autumn Leaves, the run-ins with the wolves and horsemen, their efforts to disguise the wolves’ fates, the discovery that he was the forest guardian, his fight with Waterstone and the subsequent healing.

  When he ca
me to more recent events, Tarkyn leaned over his niece and frowned at her. “Sparrow, block your ears and hum loudly.” When he was sure she couldn’t hear him, he continued, “And I gather from Ancient Oak that you have all been talking about my initial meeting with the forestals?”

  “Yes, Sire. I believe they came close to killing you.”

  “I gave them that choice,” said Tarkyn matter-of-factly. His mouth twitched in a half smile. “They thought hard about it and there were a few arrows flying around for a while there. But it was a risk I had to take. I could not allow the possibility of oathbound woodfolk having to fight other woodfolk to protect me.” He shrugged. “And in the end, woodfolk honour prevented them from killing me to free you from the oath.”

  Running Feet considered him. “Offering your life was an enormous gesture for a people you hardly knew.”

  “Noblesse oblige, Running Feet,” said the prince lightly, although he clearly meant it.“I’m glad it remained only a gesture, though. The outcome was by no means certain, I can tell you.” He looked levelly at Running Feet. “What’s more, I did it in all good faith and it would be nice if it made a difference. Now, we seem to have swapped one rift for another.”

  At this point, the sound of humming increased significantly in volume.

  “Whoops. Sorry, Sparrow,” Tarkyn pulled her hands way from her ears. “I said, ‘Sorry Sparrow’. You can stop now.” He looked up at Running Feet with a smile. “End of discussion for the moment, I think.”

  By mid morning the rain had still not relented. Damp patches were beginning to show on the ceiling of Tarkyn’s shelter but it had so far held. It was so dark outside that it was hard to believe it was nearly midday. Running Feet and Sparrow had explored all the possible routes on their dusty map, with Tarkyn taking an intermittent interest. Suddenly, Sparrow raised her head and looked intently at Tarkyn.

  “Daddy needs to talk to you.” she said. She went out of focus for a couple of minutes then reported, “Stormaway is with him. He is saying that this storm is not natural.”