Bronze Magic

by Jennifer Ealey

  Danton glowered at him. “I might ask who you are, to be throwing your weight around like this.”

  Waterstone thought of several levelling replies he could produce but settled for, “I am no more or less than a woodman. All woodfolk are of equal rank so you are speaking to the highest rank in the forest, other than the prince.”

  “Or the lowest.” snapped Danton.

  “I can see your mathematical concepts are excellent,” replied Waterstone dryly. He turned and began walking again. “Danton, I do not wish to fall out with you. I would say that you and I both spend a lot of our time standing up for our prince. I don’t think he will feel very comfortable if he finds us at loggerheads.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes. Then Waterstone glanced sideways at the young sorcerer. “I think I should point out that the reputation of sorcerers among woodfolk is based on the information we have had about Andoran and Sargon, Tarkyn’s brothers and bandits. Tarkyn is the only sorcerer we know who has mitigated that impression.”

  Danton’s eyes widened. He gave a low whistle. “Oh my stars! So what guarantee do I have that you people won’t turn on me?”

  “None.” Waterstone eyes met and held the sorcerer’s. “And nothing would protect you, if you tried to hurt the prince.”

  Danton returned his gaze steadily for several long seconds. “You are right,” he said at last, turning away. “We do have a lot in common. And after that little warning, I feel rather intimidated at the thought of meeting crowds of sorcerer-hating woodfolk.”

  “As well you might, particularly since your arrival has delayed our response to a serious crisis.”

  “I beg your pardon for inconveniencing you,” said Danton stiffly. Then he shot the woodman a shy smile, “But my prince’s welfare is very dear to me. You have no idea what a relief it is to have found him safe. Perhaps in return for your safekeeping of him, I could assist you with your crisis. This has something to do with those wolves, doesn’t it?”

  Waterstone nodded, a gleam of approval in his eye. “You are no fool. I’ll give you that much.” He hesitated, “We would appreciate your help but you do not owe us anything. Many of us are sworn to protect the prince.”

  Danton snorted, “So were many sorcerers who have now turned on him. But their loyalty to the king overrides their loyalty to Prince Tarkyn.”

  Waterstone was on the cusp of saying that woodfolk were not so fickle, when he remembered the recent conflict their loyalty to Tarkyn and woodfolk lore that they had just spent a week resolving. “It is difficult when disparate commitments come into conflict.”

  “Especially when stringent penalties are exacted for forsaking them.”

  “How true,” said Waterstone warmly. “What penalty would you face for forsaking Tarkyn?”

  Danton raised his eyebrows in surprise. “None, now that he is exiled, except my own conscience. It is for forsaking the king that I would face punishment.”

  “I see. So nothing is now compelling you to behave as you do towards Tarkyn.”

  “My respect and lifelong devotion to him compel it.”

  “Extraordinary.” Waterstone fell into a reverie for a little while, before giving himself a shake and saying, “Well, having seen how you behave around the prince, I think you are going to be shocked by many things you see. I suggest you keep your reactions to yourself and talk to Tarkyn or me about it afterwards.”

  Just as he finished saying this, Tarkyn and Rainstorm reached the clearing ahead of them. No one stood up, although someone brought each of them a bowl of porridge and a spoon.

  Tarkyn nodded his thanks and then said to everyone, “I would like to introduce Danton Patronell to you. I’ll leave you to get to know each other in your own time.” So saying, he sat himself down against a log to eat, next to Rainstorm.

  Danton stopped dead in his tracks and stared in shock. Tarkyn looked around at him and gave a smile. “Danton, get yourself a bowl of a porridge and sit down here,” he said, patting the ground beside him.

  Someone thrust a bowl and spoon into the bemused sorcerer’s hands as he sat down. When Waterstone joined them, he whispered, “Thank heavens you warned me. I would have ripped shreds off everyone if I’d been left to my own devices.”

  Rainstorm frowned at him. “What’s your problem? They’re just not talkative yet because they’ve all just woken up.”

  Tarkyn smiled. “I don’t think that is the issue. Unless I’m much mistaken, my liegeman here expected everyone to stand up and bow.”

  “He’s mad, prince,” said Rainstorm firmly. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “Prince?… You address His Highness merely as prince?” came a strangled query from Danton.

  Waterstone was grinning hugely. “You’re doing well, Danton. Just keep that outrage in check and you’ll be fine. “

  A few minutes later, Stormaway, Autumn Leaves and Thunder Storm came over to join them.

  “So Danton,” said Waterstone cheerfully, “this is the merry group who stood vigil with you and over you last night. You were lucky. At least you and Stormaway were on the ground. We four were up in the trees. You can barely move without a bough groaning, so you have to be even more careful about changing position.”

  “And if this blasted prince hadn’t been so scrupulous…,” began Autumn Leaves. He stopped as Danton choked on his porridge and went bright red. “Are you all right?” asked Autumn Leaves in some concern as he belted him helpfully on the back.

  Danton nodded while Waterstone and Tarkyn grinned at each other. When Danton recovered, Autumn Leaves resumed his whinge. “So as I was saying, if this blasted prince hadn’t been so scrupulous, we could have just used mind control on you and had it sorted in five minutes. As it is, all five of us, actually six of us including you, are dog tired from staying up all night.”

  The prince smiled at the woodman’s diatribe. “I’m sorry Autumn Leaves. Thank you to all of you for doing that. At least this way I can face Danton.”

  Danton frowned, “Your Highness, why are you apologising? It is our duty to protect you in whatever way you see fit.”

  “It might be your duty,” retorted Rainstorm, “but it’s certainly not mine. And even if it were, I wouldn’t be told how to do it.”

  “Yes, thank you, Rainstorm,” said Tarkyn dryly. “I think we all know your views on authority.”

  Danton eyed Rainstorm but let the issue drop, mindful of Waterstone’s warning. Instead he asked about mind control. When the whole discussion had been explained to him, he looked a little ill. “You woodfolk are scary, aren’t you? I don’t know how I would have felt about it. I might have liked it better than the cool welcome I received.”

  “You still would have received the cool welcome. But you would have been subjected to mind control as well,” said Tarkyn. “And you would still have known I didn’t trust you.”

  Danton shrugged. “I don’t know why you’ve decided to trust me now. Just because I didn’t attack the first night means nothing. If I were going to do anything, I would wait for several nights and make sure I knew what safeguards were in place, how you two would react, if anyone else was around…” He looked at the prince with his head on one side. “You didn’t look as though you were ready to trust me when I came back with the wood this morning, Sire. You looked cold, and unwelcoming, and like someone I had never met before.”

  “It was your reaction to that expression that decided it,” explained Waterstone. “We saw how upset you were. Tarkyn picked up your feelings of anger and disappointment when you threw the wood down. Those are not the reactions of a thwarted killer or kidnapper. Anger and frustration maybe; not disappointment. And then you verified it by saying you were going to leave.”

  “So, how did Prince Tarkyn suddenly know what you had all decided?”

  The woodfolk all looked at one another. By mutual agreement, Autumn Leaves explained the prince’s and their different forms of mental communication.

  When Danton had digested this,
he raised his eyebrows and turned to the prince. “And more importantly, why was it not your sole decision, Your Highness?”

  The prince grimaced. “I think you will find very little around here is my sole decision, but least of all that one. The woodfolk have remained hidden from sorcerers and wizards for hundreds of years. It is not my place to disrupt that. Besides, just as you are, so am I pledged not to reveal their presence. So are all woodfolk. It had to be a full community decision.”

  “And if they had not decided in my favour?” asked Danton slowly.

  “I would have argued for you, if I alone had decided that I trusted you. But I would never have revealed the presence of the woodfolk to you and I would have had to let you go on your way, even if it had cost our friendship.”

  Danton nodded his head briskly and surprised them all by saying, “That is as it should be. You cannot break an oath, even for a friendship.”

  Tarkyn could not resist throwing a small triumphant glance at Autumn Leaves.

  “All right. All right!” grumped Autumn Leaves. “So maybe there are two honourable sorcerers. That still leaves thousands unaccounted for.”

  41

  Once breakfast was over, Tarkyn looked around at his little cohort and sighed. “I suppose I had better have that discussion with the group that chose the encampment. Thunder Storm, could you please ask them to gather over on the other side of the clearing there?”

  Once the woodfolk had gathered, Tarkyn stood up, ready to head over to them. Immediately, Danton also rose to his feet.

  Tarkyn smiled, “No, Danton. Could you stay here for the moment, please? I need to do this alone.” When the sorcerer remained standing, the prince added, “Danton, you have my permission to be seated.” He looked at the others. “Perhaps you could explain about the oath to Danton while you’re waiting. There is a lot he needs to know.”

  The blond headed sorcerer sat down but sent a glowering look around the rest of the group who had remained carelessly seated while the prince stood. As Tarkyn moved away, he heard Waterstone murmuring something quietly to the feisty young guardsman that seemed to calm him.

  As the prince approached Tree Wind’s group, he saw them watching him apprehensively. He noticed Running Feet and Ancient Oak sitting deep in their midst even though they had voted the other way. Tarkyn had already decided that reading the riot act would only serve to crystallise this group’s first impressions of him and would do little to further goodwill between them.

  So when he reached them, he said, “Shall we all sit down so we can discuss things in comfort?” Once everyone was seated, he asked, “Why do you think I wanted to talk to you today?”

  After a few moments’ silence, a scowly young man, reminiscent of Rainstorm, said, “Because we supported Tree Wind’s idea and you didn’t like that. You want us to support your opinions. My name is North Wind.”

  “And what were my opinions?”

  “Presumably to search out Golden Toad and his family at the southern swamp,” sneered the young man.

  Tarkyn looked around the group. “And what made you decide that searching for Golden Toad was my preferred option?”

  North Wind shrugged, “Obvious, really. All your cronies advocated for it.”

  The prince frowned, “All my what?”

  “You know, cronies. The people who keep company with you.”

  The prince’s face cleared, “Ah. You must mean the people who had enough courage to endure whatever I threw at them so that you, as a people, could uphold your oath.” Tarkyn took a deep breath to quell the anger he felt building up. “In actual fact you all supported my opinion, for which I would like to thank you. Your option saved me from having to do two lots of searching.”

  Inevitably, Tree Wind spoke up. “So why didn’t you just decide to go with the better option instead of leaving it to chance?”

  “Because I do not want to decide for you. I want you to have the choice. I trust the judgement of the woodfolk. You have made decisions by consensus for hundreds of years. Last night, opinions were based on prejudice and because of that no one would shift and no decision was reached. If I had given myself the power to break the deadlock, I would have undermined the whole authority of woodfolk society.”

  There was stunned silence.

  Eventually, when no one spoke, the prince said mildly, “None of you has given me a chance. You left me on the second day after my arrival, injured and unconscious, and haven’t come near me again until two days ago. I know you resent the oath. I know you resent me. But I am not my father. He never had to live with the oath as I have done.” Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair. “I am not asking you to like me or even to come near me. But I do want to make sure that your decision-making ability is not crippled by prejudice. Sometimes I will be right. Sometimes I will be wrong. Just as all of you are, from time to time. Don’t use my opinion as a foil for your own. Listen to my opinion but make your own decisions based on your own knowledge. You are strong independent people. Make sure you stay that way.”

  Tarkyn stood up and left without another word being spoken. Tree Wind and her group watched him walk back across the clearing in silence. When eventually they spoke amongst themselves, it was clear, even from a distance, that they were still stunned.

  As the prince approached his own group, Danton stood up and bowed. Tarkyn wondered why he had never noticed before how intrusive court etiquette was on other people’s lives. The prince acknowledged his liegeman’s bow with a courtly nod then indicated that they should both sit down.

  Rainstorm was round eyed. “Hi, prince. What did you do to that lot? They look pole-axed.”

  Ignoring Danton’s pained expression, Tarkyn glanced over at them then returned his gaze to those around him. A small smile played around his lips. “I didn’t get angry, if that’s what you’re thinking. Although I came close when one of them referred to the home guard as my cronies.”

  “Very restrained, Your Highness,” said Thunder Storm, with a smile, “I think that remark might even have taxed my temper.”

  The prince raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Thunder Storm, I’ve never seen you even the slightest bit angry.”

  Thunder Storm’s smiled broadened. “Perhaps I should have said, ‘That remark would have taxed my temper, had I been you.’”

  Danton looked on, speechless at the woodman’s temerity, and waited for the inevitable set down.

  Tarkyn merely waved his hand and smiled, “Much more accurate, Thunder Storm. Well, it did, but I was determined not to give them more fuel for their fire against me.”

  “So what did you say?” pressed Rainstorm.

  Tarkyn shrugged, “Not a great deal. I said that if they allowed me to make the decisions, it would undermine woodfolk society. So basically, they should not be too influenced by my opinions one way or the other and should remain independent.”

  The prince then found himself surrounded by another group of thoughtful people.

  After a moment, Autumn Leaves asked, “But is that what you set out to do? I thought you wanted them to listen to you as forest guardian?”

  Danton frowned, “Forest what?”

  Tarkyn waved a dismissive hand, “I’ll tell you about it later…I do want them to listen to me. But I don’t want anyone slavishly following or opposing my advice. You should know that by now.” He gave a little smirk. “And I did happen to mention how they had all left me for dead when I was injured.”

  Waterstone smiled. “Light begins to dawn. You are a cunning bastard sometimes, young Tarkyn.”

  “Thanks,” Tarkyn might have said more, but he was overridden by strangled roar at his side. He turned to see Danton, hands clenched at his sides, bright red in the face, his tolerance levels overloaded, exploding with wrath.

  “How dare you speak to His Highness like that?” The guardsman’s voice was shaking with anger. “I have tried to allow some leeway but this is more than enough. You show him no due respect. You do not stand for him. You do not bow
to him. You abuse the privilege of using his first name by being overly familiar. And now you use words to describe him that I would be ashamed to repeat.”

  “I was actually being complimentary,” replied Waterstone mildly.

  Danton turned his wrath, unabated, onto Rainstorm. “And you, how dare you just refer to his lordship as ‘prince’ in that disrespectful manner? And dispute his right to your protection?”

  Rainstorm’s eyes snapped in anger. “That’s it. I’m going to have to kill him.” Before anyone could stop him, the young woodman swung a fist at the guardsman but found his arm blocked. He swung wildly one fist after another in quick succession until he had connected often enough to send the guardsman sprawling.

  “Rainstorm! Stop this!” ordered the prince.

  But the woodman’s blood was up and he took no heed. Danton scrabbled to his feet just in time to brace himself as a wiry ball of fury threw himself at him. The wind swirled leaves and dust around them as Rainstorm bore Danton over with the weight of his rush, and punched him hard on the jaw.

  “Enough,” said the prince sharply. This time, Tarkyn did not wait for Rainstorm to respond. “Shturrum,” he intoned at the two men and dragged the now unresisting woodman off the guardsman. When he had created sufficient space between them, he released the spell. Rainstorm immediately turned his ire on the prince and charged at him instead. The trees around the clearing thrashed in a sudden gust of wind.

  Tarkyn frowned in consternation but dealt with the immediate problem by waving a languid hand and intoning, “Shturrum” again, this time only at Rainstorm. He glared at the unmoving young woodman. “If you wish to be released, you will have to calm yourself first. I don’t know whether you were unaware, or whether you had forgotten, but Danton guaranteed to use no violence of any kind against woodfolk. So, well done for attacking someone who couldn’t fight back.” The bite of sarcasm in his tone was chilling. He continued in a quiet, disdainful voice, “And I would not suggest that you continue your attack on me. You are surrounded by people who will not stand by idly and watch you do it. But before any of them has time to react, I can assure that I will send you flying to land hard against that tree behind you. Don’t think you will enjoy it. It will hurt – badly. I don’t impose many boundaries but there are some and you have just crossed them.”