Bronze Magic

by Jennifer Ealey

  “Don’t let him get you worried about it,” piped up Rainstorm from the other side of Tarkyn. “It’s not as bad as you’d think it would be.”

  “And you’d know that because…?” asked Tarkyn, a clear note of warning in his voice.

  Rainstorm shrugged sheepishly. “Just from what I’ve observed, you understand.”

  “I assumed that’s what you meant,” said Golden Toad, unaware of the undercurrent of the conversation. “You’re one of the forestals, aren’t you? Your lot didn’t swear the oath, did they?”

  Rainstorm cleared his throat, “No. They didn’t.”

  Golden Toad yawned, “Does anyone go to sleep around here? It can’t be long until dawn.”

  Tarkyn smiled, “They are just excited at having succeeded in their rescue and having you back among them. Tonight is the climax of a lot of planning, you know. Go on. You’ll have to go and chat with them all before you go to bed.”

  As soon as he had gone, Tarkyn turned to Rainstorm. Before he could say anything, Rainstorm smiled ruefully and said, “I’m sorry. I nearly gave the game away, didn’t I?”

  Tarkyn waved a hand. “I’m not worried about that. You recovered quickly enough. Anyway now the rescue is over, it doesn’t matter as much. It might be time to face the music soon. But not tonight.”

  57

  When the world swam back into focus, Danton found himself once more with his hands tied behind his back. His first reaction was alarm that the sorcerers had discovered his complicity in the woodfolk’s activities. Then he looked around and realised that he was somewhere in the forest. Breathing a sigh of relief, he let his head drop back down. Just as he was drifting back to sleep, a feeling of intense irritation overcame him. He was tired of being mistrusted.

  In the grey before dawn, the sound of birds singing in nearby trees woke him. Danton struggled into a sitting position and leant his head back against a tree. He thought about the events of the night before and knew that his actions had been misconstrued. He remembered what Tarkyn had said about the world not being big enough to hide him if he betrayed his prince. His stomach lurched in fear before anger took over. Well, he hadn’t betrayed the prince and he was sick of having to prove himself.

  Time passed slowly. A pale yellow sun was streaming between the sparse leaves of the trees by the time anyone bothered to approach him. Danton heard a slight rustle and turned his head to find Waterstone watching him from the edge of the clearing.

  “How long have you been there?” Danton asked.

  “For a few minutes.”

  “So. What now? Do I go on trial?” Danton’s voice was scathing. “Or do you kill me out of hand as a traitor without a hearing?

  Waterstone walked around and sat down cross-legged in front of the bound sorcerer. “What do you think should happen?”

  Danton scowled at him, “It’s too late for what I think should happen. You should have left me to get on with the job as we had agreed. Now I will be associated with your activities and will no longer be able to walk freely among the sorcerers. That severely reduces my usefulness to you and Tarkyn.” He shrugged and added bitterly, “But since none of you trusts me, I am of no use to you anyway.”

  Waterstone considered him, his head to one side. “What could you say that might convince us? How would we know you weren’t acting?” He paused, “We all watched you in action with Sargon and Andoran. Either you were acting then or you are acting now. And we saw you rush out with them right into the middle of our raid. So how can we trust what you say?”

  “You can’t,” replied Danton flatly. “And frankly, I have no intention of putting any more effort into convincing you.”

  Waterstone gave a slight smile, “I can understand your irritation but it would seem, in your position, that it might be worth your while to find a way to prove your trustworthiness.”

  “It can’t be done. I see no point in continuing an association where I am under constant examination. I supported you against my own people and this is the thanks I get. You can all go hang, for all I care.”

  “How do I know your display of self righteous anger isn’t a ploy in itself?”

  “You don’t,” said Danton shortly. “That’s why I’m not going to even bother trying. And if you want to know, I told Stormaway that I would have absolutely no qualms about acting to you people if I could find a way to convince you of my good faith. So, you can safely assume I’ll act if I think it will help me.”

  “Danton, have a care. You are painting yourself into a corner.”

  “Then kill me.”

  For once, Waterstone was at a loss. After a few moments he said, “For what it’s worth, I told Tarkyn yesterday that I trusted you. Recent events may have strained my belief but I certainly have no intention of condemning you out of hand.”

  “Considering how I find myself, your faith in me doesn’t impress me much,” Danton retorted. He wriggled his shoulders to ease their stiffness. “And you can tell His Royal Highness that he seems to have learnt how to reward loyal service from his brothers! I thought he was better than that. But apparently not.”

  Waterstone’s eyes glittered. He said in a voice husky with anger, “Don’t you ever compare Tarkyn with his brothers!”

  Danton was completely unrepentant. “Then tell him not to act like them.”

  “The cases are not at all the same,” protested Waterstone vehemently.

  “The cases are very much the same,” responded Danton promptly. “They didn’t trust Tarkyn. Tarkyn doesn’t trust me.” He glowered at Waterstone. “I’m tired of tying myself in knots only to be kicked in the teeth. I spent a month on my own, scouring the countryside to find the prince because, despite all the evidence condemning him, I stayed true to him. And when I finally found him, I was greeted with a cool reception and suspicion. Then, against my natural instincts, I threw myself into the rescue of your kin, spent long torturous hours talking to two people whom I would have preferred to kill on sight and for this, I am rewarded with imprisonment and mistrust.” He tilted his head to one side. “I am loyal, and yet I am mistrusted and imprisoned. So tell me, how is that different from what happened to Tarkyn?”

  Waterstone stood up and began to pace back and forth before the palace guard. Finally, he stopped and turned towards Danton, “Your behaviour with Sargon and Andoran provided us with more grounds for suspicion than Tarkyn’s performance at the tournament did for his brothers”.

  Danton gave a derisory smile, “It took you a long time to think of that.”

  Waterstone raised his eyebrows. “It’s true nevertheless.”

  “Yes,” conceded Danton, “It is true.”

  “So, can you explain what happened between you, Sargon and Andoran?”

  “Yes,” replied Danton. He stared up into the sunlight streaming through the branches then looked back at the woodman. “But I won’t.”

  Waterstone frowned in exasperation. “Well, can you prove your good faith in some other way?”

  “Yes, I think so, but I won’t do that either.” Danton rubbed his shoulders against the tree trunk. “Have you ever sat with your hands tied behind your back? It’s bloody uncomfortable and bloody humiliating, if you really want to know. I don’t like being at the mercy of your whims and it is not something I’m prepared to put up with every time you get the jitters about me.”

  Danton took a deep breath and looked Waterstone in the eye. “So. This is the end of the road. You either trust me or you don’t. If you don’t, I suppose you’ll have to kill me because I know too much.”

  Waterstone frowned, “Is self sacrifice a common trait among sorcerers?”

  “Oh no. I’m not sacrificing myself. Be it on your head if you kill me. That would not be my choice. My choice is to be trusted and to live.”

  The woodman’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to force my hand, aren’t you, without having to explain yourself?”

  Danton shrugged, “You can look at it that way, if you like.”

 
; “I don’t like having my hand forced, Danton,” came Tarkyn’s voice quietly from the side.

  Danton whipped his head around to see the prince sitting motionlessly with his back against the next tree. “And how long have you been there?” he demanded. “Does none of you announce your presence like civilized folk?”

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows and asked, with an edge to his voice, “Are you implying that we, that I, am not civilized?”

  “I beg your pardon, my lord.” Danton stammered, his bravado evaporating. “Of course I meant no such thing.”

  Tarkyn’s amber eyes bored into him. “So you think I’m as unjust as my brothers, do you? – Perhaps I am. I am, after all, tainted with the same Tamadil blood.”

  This was so uncomfortably close to what Sargon had said that Danton could feel the colour seeping into his cheeks. “I didn’t know you were listening to them, my lord.”

  “I wasn’t, Danton. But I am not a fool. I know what people are saying about me.”

  Danton dropped his eyes. “My lord, I am sorry to have to tell you this but I spoke slightingly of you several times to Andoran and Sargon.”

  “I am sure you did, Danton. I would have expected no less.”

  Watching Danton respond without question to Tarkyn showed Waterstone, as nothing else could, the truth of Danton’s allegiance.

  “You had a part to play, given the unexpected presence of Andoran and Sargon,” continued the prince. “I’m sure you played it to perfection.”

  “I did my best, my lord. It was essential not to arouse their suspicions. So I spent many long hours enduring their company and their opinions.”

  “And what did you say to support me against their accusations?”

  Danton took a deep breath and let it out shakily. “Nothing, my lord. Nothing whatsoever.”

  “I see.”

  “I could not risk Sargon and Andoran suspecting me of associating with you, Sire.”

  “However,” said Tarkyn icily, “No such excuse exists for what you said about me to Waterstone. So I can assume that was your true opinion of me?”

  Danton brought his head up and met Tarkyn’s gaze defiantly, even though fear flickered at the back of his eyes. “If you punish me when I have given you nothing but loyal service, your behaviour will be no better than your brothers’. The reason for your behaviour may be different, but the effect will be the same on the people you hurt.”

  Tarkyn let out a low whistle and shook his head. His face was white with anger. “Danton, you forget yourself. I think woodfolk society has affected your sense of propriety more than I expected. I can’t believe you just had the temerity to say that to me.”

  The prince stood up and walked across to tower over Danton, “Stand up,” he ordered. Tarkyn grabbed Danton and hoisted him upward as he struggled awkwardly to his feet.

  “Turn around,” snapped the prince. He aimed a thin, intense ray of bronze power at the bonds and disintegrated them. “Now, turn and face me.”

  Tarkyn stared down into Danton’s purple eyes. “You are free to go.”

  For long moments, the pair stared in silence at each other. Danton endured the returning circulation in his wrists without moving.

  “I said, Danton, you are free to go.”

  “I heard you, my lord,” replied Danton slowly. “And I thank you for your trust. But I have no wish to leave you, Sire.”

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows haughtily. “Indeed? And what should I think of someone who is prepared to serve such a corruption as myself?”

  “You should think of him as a loyal friend and liegeman, who is willing to stake his life on his belief that your integrity will overcome your fear of betrayal.”

  “Even though I am no better than my brothers?”

  “I did not say that, my lord. I said your actions against me would make it seem that way.” He took a breath. “All three of you fear betrayal, but in you, it is counter-balanced by your care for people. In your brothers, it is fed by their obsession with power.” Danton rubbed his stinging wrists. “My lord, for you, betrayal means personal pain. For them it is merely a counter move in a political game. You care for people. They care only for power.”

  Danton dropped to one knee and bowed, hand on heart. “And that is why, my lord, you are the only true hope for the future of Eskuzor and why I will serve you to the end of my days.”

  Tarkyn gazed down at the top of Danton’s head in bemusement, shocked and moved by what his liegeman had said. He became aware that a ring of woodfolk had appeared and were watching silently. He recovered himself enough to place his hand on Danton’s shoulder and say gently, “Please rise Danton. I am honoured by your loyalty and your service. I will do my best to justify your faith in me.”

  He waited until Danton stood face to face with him then gave a wry smile, “As to being the hope of Eskuzor, I think not. As you have just said yourself, I have no aspirations to enter into a game of power with my brothers.” He picked out Ancient Oak and Waterstone and smiled, “…. any of my brothers.”

  “And yet, my lord,” came Stormaway’s voice from behind him, low and intense, reverberating around the gathering. “Your destiny is written in the stars and lives deep inside the trees of the forest. It has been clear from the day of your birth for all to see who have knowledge of such things. Your father and I always knew. That’s why you had to be protected. You are not only the guardian of the forest. You are the one true hope for the future of all Eskuzor.”

  Epilogue

  As Stormaway’s final words rang out Andoran and Sargon were sitting disconsolately, four miles away, before a cheerless fire. Red wheals down their arms bore witness to the hours of itching and scratching they had endured, and their eyes were hollow from lack of sleep. From time to time they glanced uncertainly at each other, each wondering if the other had seen the strangely dressed man with eyes the colour of new leaves, face and hair the colour of walnut shells. Each of them wondered in his own isolated uncertainty whether, if he had existed at all, the strange man had had fleas.

  Book 2: Wizard’s Curse

  In the darkness of his shelter Waterstone lay asleep, his daughter Sparrow a short distance away from him. Outside, the wind was picking up. Within minutes, the trees were thrashing under an ever-increasing gale. Suddenly, an intense wave of fear slammed into Waterstone’s mind, followed almost instantaneously by a peremptory summons. Sparrow woke crying.

  Waterstone had no time to comfort her. “Stay here,” he said urgently, as he quickly pulled on his boots. “Whatever you do, don’t leave the shelter until I call you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Sparrow nodded bravely. “Go on. I’ll be all right. Tarkyn’s in trouble, isn’t he?”

  Waterstone answered over his shoulder as he left, “Something is wrong, badly wrong. Stay here until you hear from me.”

  Once outside, the woodman was buffeted by the strong winds that were now shrieking through the trees. He could hear branches breaking and the air was filled with flying leaves and twigs. Eerily, he could see the stars shining peacefully above him in a cloudless sky.

  "Oh no." Waterstone murmured to himself in horror. "It's not a storm. Someone is betraying the oath. The forest is being destroyed."

  About the Author

  Jennifer Jane Ealey was born in outback Western Australia where her father was studying kangaroos on a research station, one hundred miles from the nearest town. Her arrival into the world was watched, unexpectedly, by their pet kangaroo who had hopped into the hospital. Having survived the excitement of her birth, she moved firstly to Perth and then Melbourne where she spent most of her formative years. She took a year off from studying to ride a motorbike around Australia before working as a mathematics teacher and school psychologist in England and Australia, a bicycle courier in London and running a pub in outback New South Wales.

  She now lives in Melton, a country town just outside Melbourne, working by day as a psychologist and beavering away by night as a novelist. She has
written two detective novels and has just completed The Sorcerer's Oath, a series of four fantasy novels, of which Bronze Magic is the first.

  Other books by Jenny Ealey

  The Sorcerers’ Oath Series

  Bronze Magic

  Wizard’s Curse

  The Lost Forest: Written, yet to be released

  The Emptied Threat: Written, yet to be released