Tarkyn let out a long breath. “Skies above, they’re hard work.” He glanced at the woodman beside him, “Thank you for your support today and this evening.” He gave a fleeting smile. “Funny thing is, I actually agreed with the people who were against me. That’s why I couldn’t make the decision. I couldn’t let down all the people who were supporting me. I would have made it if I really had to, but frankly, it doesn’t matter much, one way or the other. So I was quite happy to leave it to chance.”
Running Feet’s eyebrows twitched together. “So all those people are going to get into trouble for making the right decision?”
“I will certainly be speaking to all those people who made the right decision for the wrong reasons,” replied the prince dryly. “Whether they get into trouble, as you put it, remains to be seen.”
“And the others?”
Tarkyn smiled. “You mean those who made the wrong decision for the wrong reasons? Since they are not filtering everything I say through a haze of resentment, they will have already understood the error of their ways. At least, I hope so.”
“Where are we going?” asked Running Feet.
Tarkyn shrugged, “I don’t know. Somewhere outside. Anywhere really, where we won’t be disturbed.”
Running Feet stopped and looked around. He pointed to a shadowy space within a large stand of oaks. “That do?”
For a moment, a sense of unease rippled through Tarkyn. “Can you contact the lookouts? Check that everything is all right?”
Running Feet stared at him. “I can’t hurt you, you know. I swore the oath.”
Tarkyn frowned distractedly. “What? I’m not worried about that. It would be pointless for me to ask you to check with the lookouts if I were.”
The woodman conceded the point and went briefly out of focus. “All where they should be and nothing to report.”
“How well would they pick up a threat that was already inside the perimeter?”
“The threat would have to get past them to get inside the perimeter in the first place,” Running Feet pointed out.
Tarkyn still looked uneasy. “Twice already I have known of dangers getting past the lookouts. The first time was a wolf that slipped through while they were watching its mate. The second was when I made it into here.” He shrugged. “Maybe I just had a cold shiver, I don’t know. You’ll just have to be extra vigilant while I’m concentrating.”
When they had settled themselves comfortably against the trunks of two trees, Tarkyn asked, “Can you recall the encampment?” Remembering Waterstone, he asked, “Will you allow me to share your memory of it? Feel free to edit it as you wish.”
Running Feet interrupted, “Did Waterstone really let you have free rein with his memory?”
The prince stared at him, “Who told you that?”
“Waterstone did, of course. It had to be him, Autumn Leaves or Thunder Storm. No-one else knows.”
The prince frowned, “So why did he tell you?”
Running Feet grimaced reminiscently. “I think it was just part of a fairly long-winded warning-off process that he subjected me to for most of the day in one subtle way or another.”
“I see,” said Tarkyn. A slow smile dawned as he worked out the inferences. “Yes, he did give me free rein with his memory for some considerable time. Not one of my finest hours. I overused it. Autumn Leaves was very angry with me.” He paused and glanced at Running Feet, “But do not fear. It was always within Waterstone’s control, not mine, if you’re wondering. I just took too much advantage of his good nature. So, are we going to do this or not? You can describe the encampment in detail instead, if you would prefer.”
The woodman shook his head. “No. That would be too laborious. If you can receive images, it’s much better this way.” He leaned forward so that his face was close to Tarkyn’s. “Okay. Look into my eyes.”
We are carefully upwind of the camp. We can hear wolves howling from time to time. There are scores of tall men. Some women. Many men are armed. They are wearing better clothes than the others who look like the travellers we see on the roads through the woods. There are scores of horses roped up inside the encampment. Some are wearing saddles, ready to leave. They have guards posted around the perimeter at intervals of fifty yards. All the guards are carrying weapons of some description. There are tents in the middle of the enclosure. Some men sleep in them. Many sleep under tatty pieces of canvas outside. A weedy young man walks around past the horses to check the chained wolves.
“That’s the man I saw at the river with the wolf and the riders,” exclaimed Tarkyn. “Sorry. Go on.”
Running Feet shrugged. “There’s not much more than that really. I didn’t see any sign of woodfolk.”
Tarkyn frowned, “If they are there, they will be inside one of those tents where we can’t see them. What animal can I use?” pondered the sorcerer.
“You could start with one of the horses or even a wolf. You would think they would let the woodfolk out sometimes, if they’re in there.”
“The trouble is that I can’t talk to them. I can only send and receive images. It needs to stay in the present tense, if you see what I mean.”
Running Feet thought for a minute. “Maybe a mouse? Or a rat?”
Tarkyn laughed. “The mind boggles. But why not? I’ve used a swallow before and it’s not much bigger than a mouse.” He settled himself more comfortably against the tree. “Ready? Now I am going to have to send my mind searching for a particular little individual. So I need to know where I am going.” He looked suddenly at the woodman and grinned. “You realise I haven’t done this before? Autumn Leaves said you can use people’s memories as maps. So can you do me a quick repeat of your trip between the encampment and here? I’ll just have to reverse it.”
Running Feet’s eyes widened. “That’s a pretty tall order. Not for me, for you. To remember a long route like that backwards when you haven’t even travelled it yourself.”
Tarkyn grimaced. “Yes it is, isn’t it? Maybe you can take me through it once. Then, as I go back over it, give me verbal prompts to remind what should be coming next.”
“I know,” said the woodman enthusiastically. “I have a better idea. Why don’t I just take you slowly backwards over the route in the first place? It won’t be hard for me to visualise retracing our steps.”
“Much better. With any luck I can be actually sending my mind out along the route in time with your image. Don’t take it too fast.” Tarkyn closed his eyes, then realised and opened them again. “Stars. I’ll have to do this with my eyes open if I’m looking at a memory, won’t I?”
Running Feet considered, “No. I don’t think so. It actually might be easier if I transmit the images to you so that I can change the order of them first.”
“Good. That will suit me better too,” Tarkyn closed his eyes again. “Let’s go.”
Slowly, with the help of Running Feet’s images, Tarkyn let his mind move slowly out from where he sat into the forest, up over a series of wooded hills, around an open space of heather and gorse, around a huge spread of brambles, through a steep narrow valley and finally into a more open area of woodland. As his mind approached the encampment he focused low to the ground, looking for the mind patterns of little animals. He could feel the air buzzing with chatter but he couldn’t home in on any one mind. Maybe it’s too far away, he thought. Just as he was beginning to tire, he found himself viewing the forest floor from only inches above as he scurried from bush to bush, looking for seeds and scraps. Gently, the forest guardian inserted a picture of the encampment, then the tents in the middle of it, with a sense of query.
He found his nose quivering with the smell of men, horses and wolves. He shuddered with fear but then began to scurry nervously from one bit of shelter to the next, towards the source of the smells. It took a long while to cross the open ground outside on tiny little legs, especially stopping every few seconds to sniff the air and quiver. Finally, he reached the edge of the encampment and ducked down
behind someone’s discarded shoe to look about. After a quick detour to sample some horse’s dung, the little mouse scuttled into the nearest tent.
Tarkyn resisted a strong desire to spit out the mouse’s snack.
There was no one in there but there were some tasty crumbs of mouldy bread and cheese in the corner. The mouse had another quick nibble before moving on. Suddenly he heard voices approaching. He flattened himself out and pushed his way under the back wall of the tent. A crunchy little black beetle was quickly dispatched before he squeezed himself through a small hole in the wall of the next tent. There were gigantic people in here. He scuttled into a corner to hide behind a pile of clothing. After a while, when he had gauged where everyone was, he peeped out around a piece of light brown cloth to see what was happening. Three people were sitting against the opposite wall. Two adults and a child. All three had light brown hair and green eyes. They looked frightened and dishevelled. The little mouse nipped out and snuck around into the tiny space between them and the tent wall. A long metal chain looped around the waist of each of them and disappeared under the tent wall. The mouse followed it out and found the end of the chain, attached to a large metal stake that had been hammered into the ground. Then all thought of the people inside the tent vanished as the mouse saw another lovely pile of horse dung close by.
The forest guardian thanked it hurriedly and disconnected. He opened his eyes to find Running Feet staring into his face with some concern. “Are you okay? You look very pasty.”
Tarkyn twisted and spat on the ground. “It is probably just that the horse dung and beetle I’ve eaten don’t agree with me,” he answered.
“Ooh yuk,” exclaimed the woodman. “That’s a bit above and beyond, isn’t it?”
Tarkyn wiped his mouth. “It certainly is. But what could I do? I had to go along for the ride when the mouse was being so brave and helpful.”
“So, did you find out anything?”
The forest guardian became instantly serious. “Yes. We have a big problem. They have three woodfolk chained up inside the second tent along from the forest edge.”
Running Feet went white. “Oh, no. That is our worst nightmare realised. The outside world finding out about us.”
Tarkyn raised an eyebrow. “Not to mention the suffering of the imprisoned woodfolk.”
The woodman waved a dismissive hand. “That goes without saying.”
“So I see.” Tarkyn stood up. “Come on, then. Back we go and tell the others.”
Just as they emerged from the shadow of the trees, the sorcerer paused and looked back. He said nothing but shook his head as if to clear it.
“Lookouts report no unusual sightings. They will redouble their vigilance.”
“Thanks Running Feet. I wasn’t going to ask again but I did want to know.”
“What should I do first?” mused Tarkyn. “Talk to the harvesters and gatherers or show everyone the mouse’s image?”
“Are you asking me?” said Running Feet, unsure whether the prince was talking to him or to himself.
“You can give me your opinion, if you like.”
“I think you should show the image first,” responded the woodman. “Then they will understand the urgency of the situation.”
Tarkyn smiled. “I agree. It’s vital those poor people are rescued as quickly as possible. And if I don’t have time to talk to the harvesters and gatherers alone tonight, I can talk to them tomorrow.”
When they re-entered the firelight, a hush fell on the crowd. Running Feet, unused to being at the centre of attention, made his way quickly to sit down near Thunder Storm again. The guardian of the forest was left standing alone at the edge of the firelight.
“Rather than tell you what we have discovered, I will simply transmit the images I received from a small, very brave, helpful…mouse.” There was a smattering of laughter around the firesite. Tarkyn smiled in response. “Running Feet and I chose a mouse because we needed a creature small enough to be unobtrusive that could get inside the tents at the encampment. There were some disadvantages to this choice, as you will find out.” He looked around. “I will be kinder this time and make sure everyone is seated. Are Ancient Elm and Dry Berry still here? Comfortable? Good.”
The forest guardian found himself a log to sit on and transmitted the images from the mouse. Although he smiled hard, Tarkyn managed to keep up the flow of images amid cries of disgust when the mouse indulged in its various snacks. But when the sequence was complete, he opened his eyes to a sea of white, stricken faces. The silence was deafening. After a few moments' hesitation, the prince decided to say nothing at all. Everything he had to say, had already been said. He stood up quietly and wandered back out into the gloom.
VIII
Danton
39
Tarkyn found somewhere relatively dry to sit where he let his mind wander up among the trees until he found an owl. It was not the tawny owl that he had met before. This one was a huge eagle owl. Tarkyn sent a query about the uneasiness he had felt earlier when he had been there with Running Feet. In answer, the owl took off and winged through the surrounding trees, searching for the source of the feeling. As one with the owl, Tarkyn could see the forest passing below. He flew over a herd of grazing deer, and startled rabbits back into their burrows. He watched a fox jump out of its skin as he swooped low over it. Tarkyn realised with a jolt that the eagle owl had a sense of humour. It flew tirelessly through the forest searching. Finally, a black shadow detached itself from beneath the overhang of a large beech. The eagle owl landed on a nearby branch and shook out its feathers, its eyes never leaving its quarry below. The sorcerer strained his eyes to make out what he was seeing. The black shape moved furtively into the shelter of another beech tree.
“Oh no!” breathed Tarkyn, “That’s one of the elite guards from the palace.” He sent a message to the owl asking just where the intruder was. When he felt reasonably sure he understood, he asked the owl to keep an eye on the guardsman and set off in search of Stormaway.
Tarkyn skirted around the edge of the firelight until he was directly behind the wizard. The woodfolk were fully occupied, discussing the images he had shown them and planning the rescue. The prince found that he wasn’t particularly interested at the moment. He knew they would speak to him about it when they needed to and right now he had more pressing matters to think about.
Tarkyn leaned forward into the firelight and whispered in Stormaway’s ear. “Could I have a private word with you please?” The prince nodded briefly to the woodfolk sitting with Stormaway and retreated back into the darkness.
The wizard made his excuses and followed him away between the moonlit bushes beyond the firelight. Tarkyn waited until they were well out of earshot before he turned to Stormaway.
“We have some serious trouble on our hands,” he began.
“I know we have,” said Stormaway. “It will be catastrophic for the woodfolk if their presence becomes known.”
Tarkyn waved an impatient hand. “No. We have other serious trouble.” He waited while Stormaway dragged his mind away from the woodfolk issue. “There is an elite palace guard skulking in the woods.”
Stormaway’s eyes widened. “Has he seen you?” he demanded. “Has he seen any of the woodfolk?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Tarkyn thought about it. “Actually I don’t know for sure. I felt a strange uneasiness when Running Feet and I came out into the woods. We checked with the lookouts, both before and afterwards, but they had seen nothing.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know; maybe he was somewhere there, watching us. He is certainly out there now and the lookouts have not reported it.”
Before Stormaway could ask his next question, the forest guardian answered it for him. “Eagle owl. We searched the forest until we found the source of the feeling. The owl is keeping watch over him as we speak. He is less than half a mile away, downstream of the shelters and the other direction from where we dealt with the storm today.”
&n
bsp; Stormaway looked at Tarkyn. “We have to tell the woodfolk. They may need to disappear. Can you summon Waterstone? While you do that, I’ll just get a few things ready.”
Tarkyn sent a clear, strong image of himself summoning Waterstone. He hoped Waterstone didn’t turn up as annoyed as Autumn Leaves had done the last time he had tried it. As it turned out, Autumn Leaves, Waterstone and Thunder Storm all arrived together at a flat run. They were panic-stricken rather than annoyed.
“After the discussion you had with Autumn Leaves about your signals, we knew this one was urgent,” explained Waterstone. “What’s up?”
“There’s an elite palace guard in the woods out there. Elite means he’s fast and strong, trained in disguise, camouflage and tracking; he’s wearing black and he’s very hard to spot. He made it past the lookouts without attracting their attention.” Tarkyn waved a hand in the general direction of the stream. “He’s hiding in the patch of beech trees downstream of the shelters. I have an eagle owl watching him and he hasn’t moved for the last ten minutes.”
“Has he seen anyone?”
Tarkyn shook his head, “I’m not sure. He may have seen me with Running Feet. That’s when I first felt his presence. But I don’t know.”
Autumn Leaves looked thoughtful. “It is over a week since the last foray by the sorcerers and their wolf. Perhaps they have decided to use more stealthy means in their attempts to track us down.”
“He has certainly got closer to us than the men on horseback did,” Thunder Storm rumbled quietly. “If Tarkyn hadn’t come out here with Running Feet, we would still be unaware of his presence.”
“Or maybe he is simply hunting Tarkyn for the bounty or, if he is the king’s man, for the glory of the capture.” Waterstone kept his voice matter-of-fact and avoided Tarkyn’s eyes as he turned to Stormaway who was now carrying a haversack. “You are the only one who can safely meet him and try to turn him away. If we all cover you, would you be willing to confront him and find out what he’s up to?”
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