Bronze Magic (Book 1) Page 58

  Andoran and Sargon lead Danton to a nearby campfire. Andoran found a bottle of wine and poured measures into three glasses as they spoke. He handed Danton a glass as he sat down on a sturdy wooden chair, “That was a bad business with the prince, wasn’t it?” he said, shaking his head.

  “Yes, terrible,” replied Danton ambiguously, unsure how to play it.

  Sargon leaned forward. “You know, he must have been going off balance for a while and none of us noticed it.” He waved a hand. “I mean, look at the damage he wrought at the tournament.” He shook his head sadly, “And then, to attack all those guards in the palace. He killed a couple of my friends, you know. I admit I was surprised. Tarkyn never seemed to be aggressive before.”

  Danton frowned thoughtfully, “You did have to be careful of him when he was angry, don’t you think?”

  “True,” agreed Andoran. He took a sip of his wine. “I blame his brothers, though.”

  Danton raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You do?”

  “Oh yes. They should have pulled Tarkyn into line a lot earlier. You can’t have a rogue sorcerer like that running free in society and endangering everyone’s lives. Surely they must have realised, long before it got to that point.”

  “Well, to be fair to them, I didn’t realise anything was wrong earlier and I probably spent more time with Tarkyn than his brothers did,” said Danton. He shrugged, “Perhaps the strain of all those years of intrigue and being discounted within the family took their toll on him and he finally cracked.”

  Sargon leant back in his chair and said disgustedly, “Danton, you are such a soft touch. Stop feeling sorry for him. Tarkyn was a spoilt brat. He had everything any of us could wish for.” He leant forward again, his wavy brown hair swinging forward. His grey eyes met Danton’s and he spoke in an undertone, “More likely heredity, if you ask me. They’re all a bit unstable in that family. Look at his brothers. Rampant jealousy from one and deliberate goading from the other. I ask you, is that any way to run a kingdom?”

  Andoran gave a short laugh and waved his glass around, “Still, we can’t complain too much. It does provide opportunities.”

  “Hmph. Not with Tarkyn anymore, it doesn’t.” said Danton shortly.

  Sargon sighed, “No. Pity about that. We were well placed with him.” Sargon gave Danton a measuring look, “You’re not looking for him, are you?”

  “Me?” asked Danton frowning. “What would be the point?”

  Andoran shrugged, “The reward, for one thing. Actually that would be the only point, when you think about it. But the reward would definitely be worth it.”

  Danton kept his eyes on his wine. “I admit I’ve thought about it. He could be such an arrogant bastard, couldn’t he? It would serve him right.” He looked up at them and grinned, “It could be a final offering he made to us, his loyal followers, if we got the reward for bringing him in.”

  “That is a slight contradiction in terms, his loyal followers turning him in,” objected Sargon with a smile. “But he has betrayed us by deserting us. So fair is fair.” He shrugged, “Besides it would be doing a public service, ridding the world of a rogue sorcerer.”

  “Surely they would just imprison him, not kill him?” queried Danton.

  “I think imprisonment was the sentence after the tournament,” replied Andoran. “No half measures now. They want the prince’s head after the deaths in the Great Hall.”

  Danton’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see.”

  “That wouldn’t worry you, would it?” Sargon’s eyes had narrowed.

  Danton gave his head a little shake and managed a smile, “No, not at all. I was just surprised, that’s all. I left Tormadell soon after all this happened. So I haven’t kept in touch with developments.”

  “So, any idea where he might be?” asked Andoran casually.

  Danton ran his eyes around the encampment. “Plenty of people here. Have you asked around? Someone might have seen him.” Thinking back to conversations he had had with Stormaway, he said, “I heard from some people back down the road a bit that the prince had been sighted in the northwest, maybe heading for the coast. Have you heard anything like that?”

  Andoran and Sargon glanced at each other. “Yes,” said Andoran. “We’d heard something like that, but that was a couple of weeks ago. He may well have left the country by now.”

  “Oh well,” Danton put a note of disappointment into his voice, “If that’s the case, we’ll never catch him. Not unless he comes back, and I can’t imagine that he would.” He shrugged, “I’m not so desperate to get the bounty that I would travel overseas to trap him.”

  “That’s pretty much the same conclusion that we’ve drawn. I just thought you might have heard something different, that’s all.” Andoran poured them all another wine and swept the hand holding the bottle in a wide arc, “So, here we are, in the midst of Plan B.”

  “And what is Plan B exactly?” asked Danton.

  Sargon sipped his wine and looked at Danton. “You may be surprised at this but we are helping people who have been attacked on the road or on their farms by brigands. The king has been so busy antagonising his brother that he has forgotten to look after his subjects. A lot of people are being attacked but there are few brigands being brought to justice. The people you see around you have decided to take the law into their own hands to protect innocent travellers and farmers by fighting against the brigands.”

  Danton frowned sceptically, “And who is financing all this? You can’t spend your life on a good cause without food in your belly and money in your pocket.”

  “Danton, Danton.” Andoran shook his head sadly, “I’m surprised at you. So mercenary.”

  A little smile played around Danton’s mouth. “Come on. Out with it. What’s in it for you two?”

  Andoran and Sargon both rocked back with laughter.

  “Danton. You should have more faith in your fellow man,” said Sargon, smiling. He shrugged, “Well, as it turns out, the fellow who is financing this caper is paying experienced officers, like ourselves, good money to organise and train up the rabble.”

  “Much better pay than the palace offers its guards. You should think about it,” added Andoran.

  “And who is this great philanthropist with the finance?”

  Andoran and Sargon looked at each other. Andoran shrugged, “We know his name. It’s Davorad, Lord of Stansbeck but we don’t know him personally. He’s obviously very wealthy but that’s about all we know.”

  Sargon grinned, “From our point of view, that’s all we need to know.”

  “You do realise, I suppose,” added Andoran laconically, “that Prince Tarkyn’s erstwhile entourage is not exactly flavour of the month back in Tormadell at the moment? So it suits us to be well away for the time being, while feelings calm down and events are forgotten.”

  Danton shook his head, “I had no idea. That seems a bit rough; to tar us all with the prince’s brush. After all, we didn’t put him up to any of it.”

  “Guilt by association,” said Andoran.

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll stay away a bit longer than I had planned,” mused Danton thoughtfully. “I’ll see. Perhaps I’ll come back here and join you after I’ve been to see my grandmother.”

  “That would be great,” enthused Andoran, “Just like old times. Same friends. New location. Couldn’t be better.”

  Danton was struggling to keep his smile in place at the complete dismissal of Tarkyn as one of the friends. He put down his glass and stood up, wiping his hand across his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit tired after all this travelling. I might have a bit of a rest before dinner. If you’ll excuse me? I’ll catch up with you later.”

  s soon as Danton was out of sight and earshot, Stormaway appeared at his side. His eyes were glittering with anger. “Neither with that family we met before nor with Andoran and Sargon, have you said a word to support your liege. So your loyalty doesn’t extend as far as standing up for the prince when he’s not around to hear you, then?
”

  “What on earth are you talking about, Stormaway? Of course it doesn’t. Not if that doesn’t serve his best interests.”

  “You could have said something to support him.”

  “Yes, I could have. Then I would have had those two watching my every move and making sure I was followed when I left.” Danton turned his intense purple eyes on the wizard. Stormaway reeled back before the depth of implacable hatred in the sorcerer’s stare. The wizard experienced a sense of relief that it wasn’t directed at him. Danton spoke with cutting control. “Instead of ranting at me, you might like to consider how much effort it cost me to produce that little charade when I was nearly beside myself with rage.”

  Stormaway let out a breath. “I apologise, Danton. I should have realised how hard it was for you. It is very difficult for both of us to hear Tarkyn being spoken of like that. I’m afraid I misdirected my anger.”

  The sorcerer gave short bitter laugh. “Don’t be sorry. I’m becoming used to not being trusted. It’s a salutary lesson for me. You, Tarkyn, the woodfolk, everyone I am loyal to, mistrust me. And yet people I don’t care about are willing to trust me almost on sight.” He kicked a pebble along the ground. “It’s bloody annoying.”

  The wizard smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re such a consummate actor, my boy. I know it’s harder but I’m glad you haven’t turned your acting skills on us and are allowing things to take their course.”

  Danton looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I would have no qualms about acting a part amongst you if I could figure out what would convince you all. Unfortunately, I suspect nothing but time and experience of me will do it.” He shrugged and gave a tight smile. “Oh well, on the other hand, I couldn’t ask for better protection for the prince than his ring of doubters. I’d just rather be inside than outside the ring.”

  “You’re getting there, Danton. Give it time. It will come.”

  Danton eyed the wizard, his gaze still cloudy with anger. “Anyway, you may yet have cause to be angry with me.” His voice vibrated with passion, “No matter what the cost, no matter what the disruption to our plans, I will make those two pay before we leave here. I don’t know how yet, but they will pay.”

  The wizard tilted his head sideways and considered the irate sorcerer, “But Danton, much as I hate to admit it, I can understand their point of view, especially if Tarkyn killed their friends. And they don’t know that the fatalities were not deliberate acts of aggression by the prince.”

  Danton snorted in derision, “They had their chance to ask him and didn’t. They kept out of his line of vision and were brutal instead. What sort of friendship evaporates without being given any chance to redeem itself?” Danton stopped walking and put his hands on his hips, “If they had killed him in righteous anger, I might have understood. But this wasn’t revenge. Those friends Sargon spoke of were barely acquaintances and in case you hadn’t notice, they forgot to mention to me that they had already had a run in with the prince.” He shook his head. “Don’t be fooled by their charm. Andoran and Sargon are only interested in the money. They couldn’t lie straight in bed, either of them.”

  “Hmm.” The wizard was thoughtful for a minute or two. “My first instinct was to try to dissuade you. But on reflection, I would have to admit that our feelings are very much in agreement on this issue. So instead, I think I had better help you concoct some form of revenge that doesn’t interfere too much with our other plans.”

  At last Danton’s face relaxed. “Oh good. This should be fun then.”

  Stormaway raised his eyebrows, “You weren’t thinking of killing them, were you?”

  Danton waved a hand casually, “Oh no, no. That would give us away. I was thinking of something much worse than that. I don’t know. Something exquisitely embarrassing or humiliating, preferably painful as well.”

  “Ah, excellent. That sounds just the thing. I’ll give it some thought.”

  Just then the wolves set up a din of whining and howling. Stormaway and Danton looked over to see a scrawny young man feeding them the contents of the wooden bucket. A few people were drawn to the noise but no one went too close. All eyes were on the wolves. Stormaway’s eyes were on the wolf trainer.

  “That man is familiar, even from the back.” The wizard waited until the scrawny man straightened up and turned around. “Oh my stars! That’s Journeyman Cloudmaker, my old apprentice from the days when I worked in the castle for Tarkyn’s father.” He frowned, “What’s he doing here, I wonder?”

  “He must be the sorcerer who is hunting the woodfolk. I wonder how many others know about the woodfolk?”

  “He is not only a sorcerer,” said Stormaway tetchily, “Think man! If he was my apprentice, he must be a wizard.”

  “Sorry. No offence meant, I’m sure. After all, you have also taught many sorcerers from what I’ve heard, Tarkyn and Markazon among them.”

  “None of them has been my apprentice. It’s not the same thing at all.” Stormaway waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, let’s concentrate on our plan for the moment.” He glanced around him, “I think we could do it while they are being fed. The wolves’ howls would cover the noise and no one is looking that way.”

  Danton frowned, “We would be in full view if anyone looked around.”

  “True. Well, what do you think? Risk doing it at the wolves’ dinnertime or wait for Tarkyn to create a disturbance with the horses?”

  “How will he know whether to create a diversion or not?”

  Stormaway glanced up at the raven that had flown down out of the tree and was now sitting on top of the tent nearest to them. He leant forward and said quietly in Danton’s ear, “Because, unless I’m much mistaken, Tarkyn is watching our every move.”

  Danton started and looked around. Then he followed the direction of the wizard’s finger and saw the raven watching them. Danton’s eyes narrowed and he put his head on one side as he considered the large black bird. The raven copied his head movement. Then it launched itself off the tent pole straight at Danton. As the young sorcerer ducked in alarm, the bird changed its trajectory and swooped to land neatly on Danton’s shoulder.

  Danton, who was not particularly enamoured of birds, especially at close quarters, steeled himself to stand slowly upright with the raven ruffling its feathers inches from his left cheek, its sharp menacing beak and beady black eye clear in the peripheral vision of his left eye.

  He produced a wavering smile. “Ooh good. Up close and personal, then. Does he have to watch from this close?”

  “Does Tarkyn know that you don’t like birds, by any chance?” asked the wizard, smiling broadly.

  Eyeing the raven, Danton said carefully, “It’s not that I don’t like them, so much as they make me nervous. All those feathers and beaks and claws.” He frowned, “And yes, he does know.”

  “I thought he might,” laughed Stormaway. “Come on. Let’s show our raven friend the perimeter guards’ lay out. Tarkyn can transmit all the information to the woodfolk.”

  “The raven was in the tree earlier on. I just didn’t realise then, that it was being Tarkyn’s eyes. So I expect he already knows.” Danton winced as the raven’s sharp claws dug into him. “Anyway, I can’t help thinking I’m a little conspicuous with this raven perched on my shoulder.”

  “I couldn’t agree more but until Tarkyn stops mucking around, I can’t see that there is much we can do about it.”

  Just as the wizard finished speaking, the raven launched itself into the air, leaving several scratches in Danton’s shoulder, and landed back on the nearest tent pole.

  “Very funny,” mouthed Danton at Tarkyn via the raven. A thought struck him and he looked at the wizard in exasperation. “Please tell me that Tarkyn is not checking up on me.”

  Stormaway shook his head, “You’re not thinking straight. If Tarkyn were checking up on you, he would hardly let you know he was watching, would he?”

  Danton smiled perfunctorily, “No. Good point. Hmm. I wonder wh
at he made of my conversation with Sargon and Andoran. Pity he couldn’t hear it. Still, just watching it would have been enough to condemn me if he didn’t trust me.”

  “Only if I hadn’t been lurking in the background. It wasn’t as if you met them on the quiet.”

  Danton rubbed a hand across his face, “Oh well. I hope he remembers I can act. Saying that, I don’t know that I could have said all those things if I’d known he was watching.”

  “Then it’s just as well you didn’t know, isn’t it?” The wizard patted the sorcerer on the back. “Stop fretting, Danton. Tarkyn wouldn’t be playing games with you if he were angry with you.”

  “True,” Danton realised his hands were shaking and took a deep breath to steady himself.

  “You do get yourself in a tangle sometimes, don’t you? Is this what Tarkyn meant about you being overly sensitive?” When Danton nodded, Stormaway continued bracingly. “Come on. Let’s plot our revenge on Sargon and Andoran so that no doubt is left in Tarkyn’s mind about your loyalties.”

  At dusk, the raven lifted itself out of the tree and winged its way slowly against the setting sun back into the forest.

  Danton and Stormaway spent the early part of the evening listening into and joining in conversations around the campfires. Danton was borne off by Andoran and Sargon to spend the evening with them, drinking and reminiscing. Stormaway was less conspicuous and therefore more fortunate, moving quietly from one conversation to the next as the mood took him.

  At the end of a long night, Danton finally escaped the attentions of his enthusiastic companions, pleading a headache and resisting invitations for him to join Andoran and Sargon in their tent. He wove his way back to the tent he had been allocated and flopped down on his back beside Stormaway in the darkness. Even in the gloom, Danton’s face stood out stark and white, lined with strain.

  Stormaway did not make the same mistake twice. He rolled over, took one look at the guardsman’s face and whispered, “Rough evening?”