The prince regarded him thoughtfully. “And what about Waterstone, for instance? Do you think he does not respect me?”
“He doesn’t use your correct title. He doesn’t bow to you. He doesn’t treat you with the respect due to a prince.”
“Danton, that was not my question. I said, do you think Waterstone does not respect me?”
Danton thought hard. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. I couldn’t say Waterstone does not respect you.” A reluctant smile dawned. “In fact, I would say he respects you a great deal. In fact a great deal more than many of the courtiers who have given you all the ostensible signs of respect.”
Tarkyn watched the sorcerer work his way through this new perspective. “And which do you think I would consider more valuable?”
Danton smiled, “Sire, I am not a fool. Obviously, just from the questioning if nothing else, you consider Waterstone’s respect to be more valuable.” He put his head on one side as he thought about it. Then he shrugged and said slowly, “And I suppose I would have to agree with you.”
Tarkyn pulled a stick off the interior of the shelter and began to break pieces off the end of it. “Do you know, Danton, it has taken a long journey for all of us to get to where we are now. On my own, I have had to decide how I wanted to be treated. I could have insisted on rigid court etiquette. But can you imagine how hard it would be for Stormaway and me to train an entire nation of people in something of which they have little knowledge and consider mildly ludicrous?”
The blond sorcerer did not reply but looked thoughtful.
“Had I done that, they would have respected me less and resented me more. I could have forced them. In fact, the home guard would willingly have tried to learn had I insisted, but their actions would not have been marks of respect. They would have been gestures to humour me.” Tarkyn sighed, “And so I chose to relinquish the etiquette in favour of developing, I’m not sure what you’d call it, perhaps terms of engagement between them and me.”
Danton sounded sceptical. “And what does that amount to?”
“I respect their opinions. They respect mine. I am consulted on anything important.”
Danton snorted, “I should think so.”
“Ah, but when they have all worked as a mind talking unit for centuries, it is difficult for them to remember an outsider exists, let alone to include me in their debates and planning. The simplest of things have required a lot of negotiation.”
“And is that it?” demanded the guardsman. “Your only authority is that you are consulted?”
The prince gave a slight smile. “No. The oathbound woodfolk know that I can issue a command at any time but again, if I overuse it they will respect me less, not more.”
Danton’s eyes narrowed as he thought back over the morning. “Yet it seems to me that you do command a certain respect, more than your words would lead me to expect.”
Tarkyn’s eyes twinkled. “Well of course, I suspect my status increased considerably when I became part of Waterstone’s family.” The prince rolled up his sleeve. “See my scar? It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”
Danton frowned at it. “Stars above, that was a huge cut. And it’s gone green! That can’t be right.”
“That is the other reason I command respect, much more so than for being a prince. Because I am a forest guardian.” Tarkyn smiled broadly, “You won’t believe this but it turns out I’m a character straight out of one their woodfolk legends.”
Danton’s eyes grew round. “You’re not serious.” Then he frowned, “I can’t believe you’re able to trick them into thinking you’re a legend. You’re so bad at prevaricating.”
The smile wiped off Tarkyn’s face and a wave of anger hit Danton. “No. How could you think I would stoop to such a ploy? Of course I couldn’t sustain a pretence like that. Anyway, I wouldn’t dream of demeaning the woodfolk like that, even if I could.”
The blond sorcerer looked confused. “I apologise, my lord, for upsetting you. But you can’t seriously mean you’re a legend…can you?” A glimmer of unease crossed Danton’s face.
The prince gave a bitter laugh. “You may well wonder at my sanity. But do not fear; I am not a rogue.” Tarkyn suddenly realised that Danton would only know the official version of events. “Danton, I did not attack those guards.”
His liegeman managed a smile. “I know, Your Highness. Sparrow told me what happened.”
“But you didn’t know that, did you, when you sought me out…” When Danton gave the tiniest shake of his head, Tarkyn leant forward and laid his hand on the guardsman’s knee, “Thank you, my friend, for your faith in me.” He smiled as he gave Danton’s knee a final bracing pat. “Having come this far, don’t give up on me now. I didn’t make up the legends of the forest guardian. You ask the woodfolk. Remember those special powers I told you I’ve developed? Apparently, they are what define a forest guardian; healing, making plants grow, communicating with animals…”
“The eagle owl,” said Danton shortly.
Tarkyn nodded “And the storm yesterday? I drew the power for that from a venerable old oak tree.”
Danton’s eyes widened. “Did you power that whole attack on the storm?”
“Pretty much. Stormaway drew on the oak’s strength through me.” Tarkyn had found a green stick among the mesh of twigs that made up his shelter. He broke a piece off and proceeded to make it grow as he talked. He threw a quick glance up at his friend but returned his gaze immediately to his little project, “So you see,” he said, holding up the flourishing little sapling, “Strange as it may seem, I fit their description of this mythical being.”
After a short, rather strained silence, Tarkyn said quietly, “I’m still me, you know. I heard Waterstone saying to someone yesterday that a lot has changed but a lot is still the same and I guess that is how it is with you and me.” He gave his friend a warm smile. “I hope, if you came to find me knowing I am exiled, that you must care for more than the court’s etiquette.”
“Of course I do, Sire. I care for you.” After a slight hesitation, Danton’s eyes twinkled, “No matter what sort of weird being you may have become.”
Tarkyn laughed. “I, too, care for you and I am glad that you are here.” He handed Danton the little sapling. “There. You can find somewhere to plant it and watch it grow until we leave.” He grew serious. “Now Danton, there are a few things we need to sort out. Firstly, you have my permission to retaliate if any of the woodfolk attack you, but no deaths or serious injuries.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“And secondly, you also may call me Tarkyn, as the others do, if you wish to. And I would like you to follow Waterstone’s lead on how to treat me. Do not feel obliged to bow, nor to stand when I do, etcetera.”
Danton swallowed, “I am honoured, Sire…,Tarkyn, that you should allow me such freedom.”
The prince gave a little smile. “I don’t think you’ll find it very much different in terms of freedom. You’ll still be subject to my…requests. But you can query them if you have a good reason to. I do expect respect from people including you, but not in the form of titles and points of etiquette. Just remember: the lack of protocol does not mean a lack of respect. The woodfolk just have a different way of showing it.”
“I will do my best to fit in.”
“It would please me greatly if you could.”
Danton hesitated. “Sire, you said I could speak freely?” When Tarkyn nodded, he continued, “Sire, I am concerned about your oath to the woodfolk. Where does it leave people like me?”
The prince looked at him, long and hard. Danton fidgeted, worried that he had been too bold, but Tarkyn was merely thinking it through. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it, to be honest. Let me see. I have to protect the woodfolk. Their fate is my fate, their just cause is my cause.” Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair. “Well, as a prince of Eskuzor, I would expect to protect anyone who needs it. So that is not necessarily in conflict. My fate is linked with all the people
s of Eskuzor and I would make anyone’s just cause my own.”
Danton waited, not commenting.
Tarkyn grimaced, “That, at least, is the rhetoric. In reality, I have been given the honour of being accepted into the woodfolk nation when my own people have rejected me. If legend is to be believed, I am also their forest guardian and am here to help them through difficult times ahead.” Tarkyn could see that Danton was still unhappy. “You know, last night when I was worrying about your fate, Waterstone said that he couldn’t see any circumstances under which they would need to kill you. He said that no matter what you did, all they had to do was knock you out and disappear. They are highly skilled hunters and could be killers, but they choose not to be. So, if necessary, I would fight against sorcerers to protect woodfolk.”
Seeing Danton’s consternation, he added quickly, “Saying that, I could not see why good upstanding sorcerers would use wolves to hunt down woodfolk whose main defence is to disappear.”
Danton’s eyes widened. “Is that what has been happening?”
“It appears so,” Tarkyn leaned forward. “Danton, there will be a conference at lunchtime at which time they may ask for your assistance. You must hear their story and make your own choice. I give you the freedom to follow your own conscience. Now and in the future, I will not choose for you more than I have to.”
When they emerged from the shelter, Sparrow was lying in wait to show Danton her completed map. As they walked down to the clearing, Sparrow monopolised Danton, leaving Tarkyn to walk with Waterstone.
“So, what do you think of Danton?” asked Tarkyn quietly.
Waterstone chuckled. “He’s a passionate character, isn’t he? I can’t help smiling at the way he acts around you.”
Tarkyn’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “I thought you might find that amusing.” But he became more serious as he glanced over his shoulder to check that Danton’s attention was elsewhere before he continued, “But you know, with Danton’s arrival, I feel as though the outside world has come to sit in judgement on all my decisions. I find I have to justify them all over again.”
“I can imagine you would… But Tarkyn, only you can decide what your role should be, now more than ever, when you have people from two cultures around you with vastly different views. Just be clear with yourself about what you want. Otherwise, you will follow someone else’s expectations instead of your own.”
Something in the woodman’s tone made Tarkyn frown, “You’re worried about something, aren’t you?”
Waterstone threw him an embarrassed glance then turned his gaze steadfastly to the path ahead. “You have no idea, Tarkyn, how glad I am that you did not force us to treat you as Danton is used to doing. For those of us who have not grown up with those traditions, it would have felt humiliating and embarrassing… Even more so, had we had to do it in front of the free woodfolk.”
Tarkyn’s eyes had widened in consternation. “You have never told me that before, and I wouldn’t necessarily have realised it, you know.” He thought back to his conversation with Danton. “In fact, I chose not to impose court etiquette because I thought you would all feel you were humouring me and would respect me less.” Tarkyn smiled ruefully. “I was only thinking of my need, not yours. It never occurred to me that you might find it humiliating. Danton doesn’t, as far as I know.” He looked at his friend and said seriously, “Don’t ever let me humiliate you. Tell me what it means to you next time. Don’t assume I know.”
Waterstone kept his eyes firmly on the path ahead. “I find nearly everything about the oath humiliating. The only way I can maintain my friendship with you is to try and put it out of my mind when I am with you.”
Tarkyn shook his head slowly, “Ah my friend, you also have had a hard time of it, haven’t you? Waiting to see how and to what extent I was going to force you all into submission.” A puzzled frown appeared on Tarkyn’s face. “If you hate this oath so much, why did you stay and look after me in the first place?”
“I told you at the time. I liked the way you handled yourself and you needed someone to pull you out of the morass.” Waterstone shrugged and smiled, “Maybe having worked with your father and having seen the better side of him, I was more able to look past the prejudice against you than others were.” He gave a short laugh. “Anyway, I refuse to let the injustice of the oath prevent me from following my principles and helping you. That’s why I try to act as though it isn’t there as much as I can; so that it doesn’t dictate my actions one way or the other.”
Tarkyn glanced at his friend, “Waterstone, I am lucky, aren’t I, that you are so strong in your convictions. But you know, you can’t always expect me to guess what you’re feeling. I have grown up with a very different set of assumptions from you. Please tell me how you feel about decisions I make. I need your perspective to steer me through.”
43
When they arrived at the firesite, Tarkyn’s heart sank as he realised that once again the woodfolk had congregated in their factions around the clearing. The four of them slipped quietly in and sat amongst the home guard. Then Tarkyn had a quiet word to Waterstone who, as a result, went out of focus for a short time. On the other side of the clearing, Raging Water also went out of focus. As Danton watched, all the home guard and many of the others went out of focus as a message was passed around. Then, casually, in twos and threes, Stormaway and woodfolk stood up and change their positions so that they intermingled with the other groups.
“I thought you said you didn’t control things,” whispered Danton.
“I don’t,” said Tarkyn, all wide-eyed innocence. “At least not directly. Waterstone orchestrated that little manoeuvre.”
“Hmm. I begin to see what you meant about things changing, but staying the same!”
Tarkyn and Danton were left sitting with Waterstone, Ancient Oak, Autumn Leaves, Lapping Water, Rainstorm and a slightly self-conscious North Wind. The rest of the home guard had spread themselves around. Tarkyn noticed Danton’s reaction to Lapping Water with some misgiving and determined to warn him off at some more convenient time.
At this point, Raging Water stood up and said, “I believe Tarkyn, Stormaway and Danton will need to be filled in on the contents of our discussions so far. As we know from Tarkyn’s reconnaissance via the mouse…”
Here Danton threw an amused look at Tarkyn, “A mouse?”
Tarkyn said sotto voce, “You should have been there when it ate the horse dung.”
Danton’s explosion of quickly suppressed laughter drew several glares from around the firesite.
Raging Water sent a quelling glance in their direction before giving a brief resume of their knowledge of the encampment. When he had finished, he looked around. “Any comments?”
Danton raised his hand. “Would you mind if I asked a question?”
“No. Go right ahead.”
“Do you know who these sorcerers are, why they congregated like this in the forest and why they are hunting woodfolk?”
Autumn Leaves raised laconic eyebrows, “Well, we just assumed all sorcerers were evil and were out to destroy everything that moved.”
There was enough truth in this remark to create an uncomfortable pause. After a fraught moment, Danton managed to raise a smile, “I remember now. Two good sorcerers and thousands of wicked ones.” He scratched his head and grimaced in what Tarkyn recognised as a deliberately disarming gesture. “It would be easier if it were that simple. But unfortunately among sorcerers, just as I’ve noticed among woodfolk, there are factions. Even if you rescue these woodfolk, you still need to find out what the sorcerers are doing here and why they are hunting you.” Looking around at a ring of sceptical faces, he added, “I can assure you, this group will have a purpose and unlike your groups, someone will be running it. Even if three or four hundred sorcerers are involved in hunting you down, that still leaves the vast majority of sorcerers peaceably at home somewhere tending their crops, baking, breeding horses or whatever else they do.”
Ra
instorm spoke up. “Why do these sorcerer guards need weapons? Surely they can just use their power?”
Tarkyn smiled wryly. “Contrary to popular belief, most sorcerers don’t have powers for fighting. Most sorcerers can just do a few useful spells like lifting objects, maybe creating shields, giving the yeast a bit of a hand in baking bread…that sort of thing. They can’t evoke ‘Shturrum’ or stun rays or anything very useful in a fight.”
“Is that right?” asked Autumn Leaves slowly, with eyebrows raised. “Do you know, if you were anyone else, I would think you were trying to lull us into a false sense of security.” At Tarkyn’s raised eyebrow, the big woodman conceded, “But as it is, I believe you implicitly,” he gave a slight smile, “although I must admit, it is a struggle.”
“Can we get back to the point of this discussion?” demanded Ancient Elm in her withered old voice. “I am not concerned with who these sorcerers are. I just want our kin back safe and sound. It is my belief that we should rescue our friends first and investigate only once we have them safely back with us.”
Strong murmurs of agreement around the clearing supported this suggestion.
“So, what have you decided?” asked Tarkyn.
“We haven’t,” replied Tree Wind.
Tarkyn frowned. “Why not? I thought you discussed it last night.”
“It’s the chain. We don’t know how to get around the chain,” said Tree Wind calmly, “We were hoping one of you magic wielders might have some ideas to help us with it.”
Tarkyn looked at Danton then across the clearing at Stormaway. “Any ideas?”
Danton shook his head. Stormaway put up his hand to indicate that he was thinking and needed a moment to marshal his thoughts. Then he lifted his head and said, “I think a repeat of our hole digging exercise might do the trick.” He looked around the assembled woodfolk and explained, “When the home guard had to bury the wolf carcasses, Tarkyn and I used vibrations from our magic to loosen earth in a large area. If we did that around the stake, we could just pull the stake easily out of the ground and take stake, chain and woodfolk with us as a package.”
Bronze Magic Page 53