Danton cast a quick measuring glance at the other members of their group. “I have only just arrived and do not yet know my intentions.”
“My Da and uncle and me… We all plan to fight the brigands.” The young man glanced earnestly at an older man standing just behind him. “Don’t we, Da?”
“Yes lad, we do.”
A short stocky man, presumably the uncle, joined in. “It’s got to be stopped, you know. You can’t have the kingdom’s road rife with thugs. If the king won’t attend to it, we’ll have to do it ourselves.”
Danton raised his eyebrows. “Do you doubt the king, sir?”
For a moment the man gobbled at him, his mouth opening and shutting soundlessly like a landed fish.
“Do not fear,” said Danton with a slight smile. “I am not the king’s agent. I am merely interested in the progress of popular opinion, since I have been out of touch for a few weeks.”
The uncle scratched his head, “Oh well, in that case…” He leaned in a little closer. “It’s not that we are disloyal to the king. It’s just that he is so busy chasing his evil brother… ”
Danton frowned, “Who? Prince Jarand?”
The man snorted. “No, not Prince Jarand. He is fighting to support us against the raiders. Prince Tarkyn. He’s the evil bastard who destroyed half of Tormadell, and killed off all the Royal Guard and hundreds of innocent bystanders.”
Danton’s eyes grew round not, as they thought, at the enormity of the crimes, but at the enormity of the rumours, which had grown considerably since he last heard them.
The father nodded sagely. “Well you might boggle, my lord. No wonder the king has his hands full. The countryside is shouting for the Prince Tarkyn’s blood but the king, very nobly, wants to give his brother a fair trial. Personally I’d be happy to see the murdering bastard torn limb from limb, but the king has his standards.” He shrugged. “Still, that’s why we look up to the Royal Family.” He sucked his breath in sympathetically and shook his head. “What a shame for them to have such a black sheep among them.”
It was taking Danton considerable effort to regain the use of his vocal chords, “Harrumph. Yes. Quite embarrassing for them.” Feeling that he could not stomach any more of this, Danton turned to the young lady and summoned a smile for her, “And what do you intend to do while the men of your family fight brigands?”
She gave a shy smile in return, “My little sister and I will stay here in the camp and see what we can do to help. Perhaps we will see you around the campsite from time to time.” Then she blushed furiously while her father scowled at her. “I beg your pardon. I did not mean to sound forward. I only meant…”
Danton glanced reassuringly at the father and broadened his smile, “I understand what you meant. I am sure we will all see each other again if we remain billeted within the encampment. After all, it is not so very big, is it?” He sketched a small bow for her. “It would be a pleasure to run into you again… all of you,” he added hastily.
“Excuse me, my lord,” he heard a caustic voice say behind him, “but I believe duty calls.”
Danton swung around to find Stormaway’s eyes boring into him. He frowned before swinging back to say ruefully, “I am afraid he is right. Until next time.”
“I see you do not have the same natural difficulties with dissemblance that your liege displays.”
Danton gave a short laugh. “No. Not at all, as you just saw. So it’s just as well, isn’t it, that Tarkyn’s morals keep me in check?”
“I have no problem with a natural dissembler. I am one myself. It doesn’t have to be in an unworthy cause.” Stormaway regarded the sorcerer curiously, “But if I weren’t here to report back to him, what then? And what of your behaviour when you were on your own, searching for him?”
Danton frowned in annoyance. “I don’t dissemble with the prince,” he said shortly. “I know what he wants and as far as I am able, I deliver it. Always.”
As they talked, they had walked around the area surrounding the wolves looking for the source of the wolves’ dinner. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they wandered further afield towards the smells of cooking food.
When the wizard did not reply, Danton continued, “And I have always tried to protect him from other dissemblers. Because he is so straightforward himself, Tarkyn struggles to understand that some people may be more devious. He knows in his head that people double-cross and manoeuvre for power and influence at the expense of personal integrity, but in his heart he has never been able to come to grips with it.”
Stormaway studied the passionate young sorcerer, “Unless I am much mistaken, you too have your own emphatic code of ethics.”
Danton gave a slightly embarrassed smile, “Yes, I do. Of course I do, but not everyone at court realises that. If they did, I would have been privy to less intrigue and in a poorer position to protect my liege.”
“Ah! A man after my own heart,” said Stormaway as he followed his nose to a large white tent. He pulled back the flap and poked his head around the corner to see several long trestle tables set up as preparation benches. Large baskets of vegetables were sitting under the tables waiting to be prepared for the night’s meal. A huge cooking fire burned slowly in the middle of the tent beneath a hole in the roof, and several cooks had already begun to prepare the vegetables. As they were finished, handfuls of carrots, potatoes and chopped onions drifted through the air into large cooking pots, which were already simmering over the fire. Every now and then, one of the cooks directed a trickle of yellow magic into the steam and smoke to keep it on course for the hole in the roof.
At a separate table, a hefty cook was dismembering a skinned deer using a sharp hatchet. Bones and offal were thrown into a big wooden bucket against the wall of the tent. As Stormaway watched, a marrowbone missed the bucket and landed on the floor. With a slight frown of annoyance, the cook casually directed a thin stream of grey magic at the bone and lifted it off the floor into the waiting bucket before returning to his chopping.
The wizard withdrew and looked around at Danton, a satisfied smile playing around his lips. “I think I may have found the wolves’ food. The meat scraps are being collected in a bucket against the back wall of the tent. Couldn’t be easier, if that is the case. We’ll wait around here and make sure.”
“Perhaps we can loosen the stake when the wolves are eating tomorrow night.”
Stormaway brushed a speck of dirt off his left shoulder. “Possibly, but the wolves are very close to that tent. It depends on whether their trainer stays with them while they eat. And whether other people come to watch them feed too. We’ll watch and see what happens tonight.” He then brushed down his right shoulder, by the end of which procedure he had scanned the whole area around them. “We’d better move on. We don’t want to be seen loitering near the food tent. Let’s stay close by but wander over and have a look at the horses.”
They sauntered around the corner of the next tent and ran slap bang into Andoran and Sargon.
48
Deep in the woods, North Wind and Rainstorm eyed each other as they followed Waterstone to set up targets.
“He told you, didn’t he?” asked North Wind as soon as they were out of earshot.
Waterstone nodded as he handed them chunks of yellow ochre, “Here. Mark out some targets on these trees. We’ll need six or eight of them, I’d say.”
Surprisingly Rainstorm didn’t object, but merely asked, “How do you want them?”
Waterstone stood with his hands on his hips while he considered it, “Just draw a circle with eyes and nose. A bit above our head height. We don’t need the body. We’ll be aiming for their heads.”
As they each began work on a separate tree, Waterstone said quietly, “I’ve been looking for a chance to talk to you two for days.” The woodman didn’t beat round the bush. “Are you sure, Rainstorm? Couldn’t it just be the forest protecting its guardian?”
Rainstorm thought carefully before answering, “I don’t think so. It
wasn’t the trees reacting. It was the wind…and it was damaging the trees. What do you think, North Wind?”
The young woodman shook his head. “No. The trees weren’t protecting Tarkyn. The wind was lashing the trees, ripping the leaves off them.”
Waterstone looked at Rainstorm with concern. “And how are you? It’s quite something to come to terms with, isn’t it? I’ve had years to get used to the concept yet even now, I get upset sometimes. Still, I suppose even I have only had a few weeks to come to terms with the reality. It’s hard, isn’t it?”
Rainstorm nodded ruefully. “Especially when I can’t talk to any of my family about it. They might drive me crazy a lot of the time but when we are sharing something as huge as this, it is hard to keep it to myself.” He stood back to look at the face he had drawn. “Hmm, this one looks a bit lopsided.”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s near enough.” When Waterstone had finished drawing his own target, he said, “I am impressed by the care you are showing for our people, keeping such an enormous thing secret. It takes courage to do that, Rainstorm… and strength of character.” He walked over to the next large tree and began to size up where to put his next target. He glanced across at Rainstorm, “I suppose Tarkyn must have a fair idea of how you’re feeling?”
Rainstorm grimaced and his eyes met North Wind’s, “Ooh, I’d say he has a slight inkling. I more or less fell apart right in front of him when I found out.”
North Wind gave a short laugh. “Yes, you did, didn’t you? And Tarkyn was distressed about by your reaction. You could see it in his face.” North Wind rubbed at one side of the face he’d just drawn and tried to extend it out further. He frowned at the messy result, “Blast! This has gone all wrong. It’s fat on one side and skinny on the other!”
“Don’t worry,” said Rainstorm, “Mine’s lopsided too.”
“They’ll do,” said Waterstone shortly. Then he sighed, “Oh dear, Tarkyn must have had a great day that day. I followed that up by looking horrified.” He smiled reminiscently, “And then, when he suggested we should keep quiet about the oath having spread, I demanded to know if he was giving me an order.”
The two young woodmen stopped what they were doing and goggled at him. North Wind chortled. “Waterstone! I can’t believe you’d be so, I don’t know, adolescent. That’s the sort of thing people expect Rainstorm and me to do. Not you.”
“Thanks, North Wind,” responded Waterstone dryly, “I think the oath brings out the worst in me sometimes. Come on, get on with it!” he added to cover his embarrassment.
North Wind and Rainstorm smiled knowingly at each other before moving on to start on new targets.
“Anyway,” continued Waterstone, ignoring their exchanged look, “I just wanted to check with you, Rainstorm, to see how you’re coping…. And I was hoping it was the forest and not the oath but it doesn’t look like it.”
“Thanks.” Rainstorm shrugged, “I’m all right. Tarkyn gave me permission to attack him in case my temper gives the game away – not that I’m planning to. I might get myself hurt if I do. Other than that, it’s up to him really. As long as he doesn’t suddenly start issuing orders, I don’t think it’s going to make too much difference.”
Rainstorm stopped talking for a few minutes while he lined up the placement of the next target. When he was satisfied, he gave a little smile and continued, “Tarkyn’s an impressive character, you know. You weren’t there when he took on the forestals. But I couldn’t believe how calm he was, faced with all those unfriendly, hostile woodfolk. If I had to follow anyone, it would be him.”
Waterstone raised his eyebrows. “I’m amazed to hear you say that, especially with the oath being so raw for you.”
Waterstone was taken aback. He realised that, in some ways, the young woodman accepted the prince’s authority more readily than he did. Waterstone could welcome Tarkyn as a friend and a brother but he still struggled to accept him as his liege lord. Maybe it’s his age, pondered Waterstone. To me, Tarkyn is a young man barely out of adolescence. To them, he is older, a lot more powerful and more experienced in the ways of the world than they are. “And you, North Wind? What do you think about having to follow Tarkyn?” he asked, as he sketched out a large circle on the tree on front of him.
North Wind finished adding some artistic eyebrows before he replied, “I don’t like it but having met Tarkyn, it’s not as bad as I had been led to expect.” He leaned backwards to see how his face was looking. “Hmm. That’s a bit better…He’s had such an amazing life. You know, Tarkyn’s had people bowing to him since he was a little boy. Rank before age. That’s what he said. What a mad concept.” North Wind shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know how he has managed to come in here and leave all that behind.”
“He hasn’t left all of it behind,” said Waterstone dryly as he added in two large eyes and a rather strange sideways nose. “He still thinks rank before age.”
North Wind shrugged, “Maybe, but not in the same way as he was brought up to think.” He frowned reprovingly at the older woodman. “We’re just bloody lucky he’s not requiring us to behave like Danton. And I couldn’t believe it when I realised that here he is, trying to get an equal say, when he could simply dictate to the lot of us.” He paused in his creation of two almond shaped eyes to study Waterstone, “You’re too close to him. You’re used to him. But take a step back and you’ll realise how extraordinary that is for someone who’s always been used to power.”
Waterstone thought back to the faint derision in his tone when he’d questioned Tarkyn’s need for greater influence and for keeping a dignified distance. He realised he had basically taken it for granted that Tarkyn would have similar views to his own and that discussions around distance and expectations were curious little peccadilloes in an otherwise normal woodman. Something of this must have shown on his face because North Wind added, “I wouldn’t be quibbling about the odd order here and there, if I were you.”
“No, you may not,” answered Waterstone grimly, “but I would. It does not sit well with me to have to obey any man. He said he would sooner die than subvert his will to anyone. That’s pretty much how I feel. Maybe that’s one reason I get on so well with him. Unfortunately I must obey Tarkyn if he insists, but I don’t like it and never will.”
Rainstorm looked up from the eyebrows he was delicately sketching on his target. “And has Tarkyn always known you feel like this?” he asked curiously.
Waterstone gave a short laugh, “To quote you, I think he might have an inkling! We even fought over it at one stage.”
“Really?” North Wind gave a low whistle.
“But I could fight him only because he’d given me permission,” added Waterstone bitterly. “And it was not a play fight by any means. I stopped it pretty quickly but even then it was too late.”
Rainstorm frowned, “Too late for what?”
“Too late to stop one of us getting hurt.” Waterstone glanced at each of them in turn, then dropped his eyes. “Tarkyn hadn’t recovered properly from his fall and during the fight, one of his broken ribs punctured his lung. If Stormaway hadn’t known what to do and Tarkyn hadn’t been a forest guardian, he would have died. As it was, it was touch and go; even with all of us sharing our life force with him.”
North Wind let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s scary. With that and him falling out of the oak tree, we’ve come close to losing the forest twice in a few weeks.”
“And Tarkyn,” said Waterstone with a sharp edge to his voice.
North Wind shrugged. “And Tarkyn. But, much as he’s an interesting, likeable character, his loss would be our gain as long as the forest was safe.”
Suddenly Waterstone lunged forward, swinging his fist at the unsuspecting young woodman. As the punch connected solidly, North Wind was thrown over backwards. He found himself lying on the floor staring groggily at a sky that seemed to be spinning slowly through a web of overhanging branches. His jaw and shoulder hurt and he licked blood fro
m a split lip. After what seemed like a several minutes but was actually only a moment, he lifted his head uncertainly and saw a thunderous Waterstone standing over him, ready to hit him again if he tried to rise.
North Wind wisely decided to stay where he was and dropped his head back down. “Stars above, Waterstone! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t hit me again.” He wiped his mouth and frowned as his hand came away streaked with blood, “I don’t see why you’re so upset. You just finished saying that you resent having to obey Tarkyn.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to lose him, you bloody snake-in-the-grass. How could you be so cold blooded about him? I thought you liked Tarkyn.”
“I do. But you can’t compare that with my freedom and the freedom of all woodfolk.”
“But you said you wouldn’t hear a word against him,” protested Rainstorm.
“I haven’t said anything bad about him. I told you. From the little I’ve seen of him, I like him. I’m just stating facts. After all, we would be a free people again if Tarkyn weren’t here,” said North Wind, watching Waterstone nervously.
Waterstone threw him a disgusted look then turned his wrath on Rainstorm, “And you? Do you think Tarkyn’s loss would be our gain?”
Rainstorm eyed the irate woodman askance. “Are you going to hit me too, if I give you an answer you don’t like?”
Waterstone clenched his fists at his sides. “No,” he said through gritted teeth, “I will contain myself. I would rather know where you stand.”
Rainstorm put his head on one side as he thought about it, “I like the prince and I trust him. Life was much duller around here before he came. But I don’t like following orders from anyone. Saying that, he said we would stay on the same footing as before and I believe him, though I suspect there might be times when that doesn’t hold true.” He gave a little smile. “Besides, he’s one of the few people who has any respect for what I have to say. But if Tarkyn’s death could release me from this oath without the forest being damaged….” Rainstorm shrugged and glanced at Waterstone standing like a wound up spring before him. He gave a little mischievous smile, making Waterstone wait, and then admitted, “No. I wouldn’t want Tarkyn hurt, even if it did release me from the oath. I guess I can cope with the oath. The ‘honour’ and ‘protect’ bits are fine. I think he actually deserves them. It’s the ‘serve’ bit that’s a struggle but I can live with it.” He frowned fiercely. “I am amazed to hear myself say that though.”
Bronze Magic Page 57