Bronze Magic
Page 33
“Go on,” growled Raging Water.
“Waterstone assured me that woodfolk are people of honour and that since they swore the oath in good faith as a debt of gratitude, disarming the oath will not remove their commitment to honouring it.” Tarkyn looked around at his captors. “The only sure way I can think of releasing them is to kill me. Of course you do run the slight risk that the allegiance may automatically revert to my brother King Kosar, but I think that is unlikely.”
“Blast you!” roared Raging Water in the prince’s face.
Tarkyn jumped in fright. “Why? What have I done? I have offered myself up as the sacrificial lamb. I can’t do much more than that.”
“You have reminded us that we are indeed people of honour,” explained Falling Branch. “We are all one people. If we kill you, we will have betrayed the honour of our kindred.”
If Tarkyn was relieved, he didn’t show it. “Perhaps then, the best solution will be for me to stay away from the oathbound woodfolk. Then they won’t have to ‘serve, honour and protect me.’ I can easily override their vow to protect me by ordering them to stay away.”
“Then, prince, you will have the situation you were trying to resolve in reverse,” pointed out Rainstorm. “You’ll still have some woodfolk having to stay away from other woodfolk if you are with them.” The young man eyed the prince uncertainly for a moment while he decided whether to say what he was thinking. Finally, he drew in a breath and said quietly, “You are going to have to face them sometime, you know.”
Flinging a look of defiance at his elders, Rainstorm walked around behind the prince and untied his bonds.
“Thanks,” said Tarkyn quietly, and brought his hands around to the front. He focused briefly on his wrists and the pink weals from the rope disappeared as the woodfolk watched. He looked up and let his gaze travel around the woodfolk. “So, is it safe for me to get up and move around? I would swear that I mean you no harm or tell you what I have sworn as my part of the oath but there’s not really much point if you don’t trust me anyway.” He waited until he saw a couple of grudging nods, and then stood up. “I will try to move slowly for a while until you get used to me. There’s something I need to do.”
Tarkyn walked across the clearing and bent down to inspect the damaged elm. He placed his hands on the scar made by his blast of magic and waited until he felt the trunk’s bark become smooth under his hand. “There,” he said to himself. “That’s the best I can do.” He gave the tree a final pat and walked back to join the woodfolk who were silently watching him from around the firesite. Sun Shower gave him a cup of tea which, this time, he accepted.
“At least,” said the prince between sips, “I know where I stand with you. You can behave as you like around me. I know you won’t trust me so I won’t be disappointed when you don’t. And this time, this time I will have learnt my lesson and will know not to trust you either.” He gave a wry smile, “It’s not much as working relationships go, but at least it’s clear…and so far I’m still alive.” He paused and added, not very convincingly, “And that has to be a good thing.”
Falling Branch scowled at him. “I do not like your implication that we are not trustworthy.”
“I beg your pardon. I did not mean to offend you. I am sure you are all as trustworthy as any other folk amongst yourselves.” Tarkyn took another sip and looked at the woodman over the rim of the cup. “From what I have seen, more so than most. But as Sun Shower has already pointed out, you don’t trust me. So, in that case, I can hardly expect that you will be forthright with me, can I?”
“No, I suppose not,” conceded Falling Branch grudgingly.
“And unfortunately, over time, the mistrust does not seem to abate. So I think I will be safe in always assuming that, at least on the issues most closely concerning you, woodfolk will never be open with an outsider.” The prince looked around them and was saddened but not surprised when no one challenged his statement.
26
The sun had reached its zenith and was beginning its journey down to the horizon when Autumn Leaves finally trudged into the firesite. Tarkyn was kneeling beside a small stream being shown how to tickle trout by Rainstorm. The other woodfolk had become more or less inured to the sorcerer’s presence and were going about their own tasks with only the occasional glance in his direction. In actual fact, they were quite pleased that Rainstorm had found a way to keep himself gainfully occupied.
Autumn Leaves sat down quietly under a tree on the opposite side of the stream and waited. Tarkyn held his arm in the water up past his elbow. Amidst an enormous splash and a great deal of shouting, he flicked a good-sized trout up out of the water onto the grass. Before he could grab it, the slippery trout catapulted itself back into the water and swam off downstream.
Tarkyn grinned at the other youth, “Nearly. I’m getting better.” His smile faded when he caught sight of Autumn Leaves.
Rainstorm took one look at the prince’s face and said, “Right, I’m off.” Then he thought better of it and offered, “On second thoughts, prince, I’ll stay if you want.”
Tarkyn smiled his thanks. “That is heroic of you, Rainstorm, but I think I’ll let you off the hook.”
As soon as Rainstorm had left, the smile dropped from his face. The prince regarded Autumn Leaves stonily. “I presume you have been sent to pour oil on troubled waters?”
The big woodman nodded, “Something like that.”
Tarkyn produced a court-bred smile but his eyes glittered. “There is absolutely no need to concern yourselves. As you can see, no one is trying to kill me and you’ll be even more pleased to know that I haven’t yet found a way to make them take the oath. That must be a great relief to you.” The sorcerer stood up and stared down on the woodman, “I must warn you that I am a lot closer to burning you to a crisp now than I ever was when you were defending your friend.” He shook his arm free of excess water and rolled down his sleeve. “I hope you have not had to travel too far. Enjoy your trip back.” Tarkyn turned on his heel and walked way.
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 his 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, 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.