by Jenny Ealey
“So what happened to consultation? Aren’t you going to consider anyone’s views?” asked Ancient Oak, with a slight frown. “You’re not coming over all autocratic again, are you?”
“Big brother, I never stopped being autocratic. I just try to act as though I’m not, most of the time. By the way, thanks for supporting me against the others over my rescue of Autumn Leaves. I suspect I did not appear particularly grateful to you at the time.”
Ancient Oak’s cheek tinged with pink. “No, not really. But like you, I didn’t stick up for you for your gratitude. I did it because it was just.”
Tarkyn glanced at him before offering the mouse another berry. When it was happily nibbling again, he looked up and smiled in satisfaction, “I’m developing quite a fondness for mice after my brave little friend in the encampment helped me in my rescue of Autumn Leaves.” He gave a slight smile, “Did you have to endure a tongue-lashing, Rainstorm, for helping me to translocate and put myself at risk?”
Rainstorm grinned, “Ooh, just a bit. Nothing I’m not used to, though. Poor old Thunder Storm was beside himself. He felt he’d let everybody down, letting you get away into danger.”
“Oh dear. And then I snapped his head off when I got back. I’d better have a chat with him at some stage. He rubs me up the wrong way sometimes but he really cares about doing the right thing, doesn’t he?”
“And he cares about you,” added Rainstorm.
Tarkyn smiled, “Yes, I know he does. And I have come to care about him too. So I’ll make sure I sort it out with him.” Tarkyn fed the mouse another berry and gave it a gentle stroke with one finger.
“Right then,” said Rainstorm impatiently, “So don’t keep us in suspense. What have you decided? And why aren’t you consulting anyone?”
Tarkyn looked from one to the other of them in an effort to build the suspense then grinned, “I’m going down into the south west to find Falling Rain and bring him back into the fold, for his sake and for ours. For some reason, I think he’s going to be important to our plans. The home guard, and whoever else wants to, can come with me. We’ll leave some people near here, keeping an eye on the encampment and some people should watch the main road through the forest and gather information on these bandits that keep attacking the travellers. When we get back with Falling Rain, we’ll decide what to do next, based on the information gathered. How does that sound?”
Ancient Oak raised his eyebrows sceptically. “You’re asking us?”
Laughter lit Tarkyn’s eyes. “Oh yes. I’m asking. I just may not listen.”
“Very funny,” scowled Ancient Oak.
“Oh come on, Ancient Oak. Of course I’ll listen. Anyway, there is nothing new in these plans. They are still the same plans we all decided on, the day before the storm. Remember?”
Ancient Oak nodded reluctantly.
“So? Are you happy with them or do you have other suggestions?”
The woodman thought for a moment. “What about this business about being Eskuzor’s hope for the future? Doesn’t that change things?”
A shadow passed over Tarkyn’s face. “I don’t know. Stormaway is right. As a prince of Eskuzor, my life is not just my own, to do with as I please. The same is true of being your forest guardian and liege lord. But Waterstone and Autumn Leaves are also right. We can’t achieve the impossible overnight. So let’s take it one step at a time. First, we’ll gather information and work out how to deal with the crisis facing the woodfolk. Only when that is sorted out and we are clearer about what else is happening, can we begin to consider wider issues outside the forest and whether I should have any involvement in them.”
“And what about the oath and the forestals?” asked Rainstorm.
Ancient Oak frowned, “What about it?”
Tarkyn raised his eyebrows at Rainstorm.
“Oops. Sorry.” Rainstorm did not actually appear to be very contrite. “Well, now I’ve gone this far, you’ll have to tell him. He is your brother after all. You shouldn’t be keeping things from him, anyway.”
“Rainstorm, considering who my other brothers are, that is probably one of your less well considered remarks.” There was an edge to Tarkyn’s voice as he said, “And I think it is my business not yours, how I behave with my brothers.”
Rainstorm was not so easily intimidated. “Oh, get that supercilious tone out of your voice. For heaven’s sake, can’t a person have a simple conversation without you getting on your high horse? If I can’t express my opinion, there’s no point in talking to you. You can disagree with it if you like. That’s up to you. But lay off with the superior tone.”
Tarkyn stared at him, white faced with anger. A wave of outrage rolled out from him and rocked the two woodmen. The mouse on his knee froze. After what seemed like an eternity, Tarkyn turned his gaze to Ancient Oak and, pointedly ignoring Rainstorm, said in coolly polite voice, “Ancient Oak, I did not intend to exclude you. It appears that Rainstorm and presumably the rest of the forestals, in fact possibly all woodfolk, have become subject to the oath and its sorcery, not just those who swore it originally. Rainstorm and North Wind were there when we made the discovery and I have only told Waterstone about it subsequently. I didn’t want the controversy it would cause, to distract us from the rescue of Golden Toad and his family.”
Ancient Oak’s eyes narrowed. He went to speak but then said nothing. The mouse, seizing its opportunity, scuttled off, having decided that the atmosphere was not worth the berries.
Still in the same unnerving voice, Tarkyn said, “No. I didn’t do it. And yes, I know you’re upset about having more of your kindred subject to the oath and I’m sorry. I promise you I did not engineer it.”
“I didn’t think you would have. I would have liked to be included, though.”
Tarkyn unbent enough to give a small rueful smile. “You’re much more contained than Waterstone, aren’t you? He acted as though the world had fallen in when I told him.”
Ancient Oak smiled back, “No wonder you weren’t anxious to tell anyone else.”
Tarkyn shook his head. “That’s no excuse. I should have told you too. But, to tell you the truth, it’s a long time since I trusted my sorcerer brothers. So for me, it does not naturally follow that because you’re my brother, I include you in everything.”
Ancient Oak looked down at his hands for a moment then glanced back up at Tarkyn, “Well, just remember that a family is there for you to call on, in times of need. That is our code. You don’t have to, but I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks, Ancient Oak.” Tarkyn smiled warmly at him, “I will remember.”
Rainstorm swallowed nervously and said in a small, strained voice, “I’m here too, you know.”
Tarkyn’s face hardened as he swept his eyes around to look at the younger woodman. Before he could speak, Rainstorm spoke more formally than either of them had ever heard him speak before, “I am sorry, Your Highness. I can see I’ve overstepped another of your boundaries. I beg your pardon. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
Tarkyn’s tone was equally formal. “Rainstorm, not only were you unacceptably rude to me, you also broke my trust.” He was still clearly angry. “I would suggest that you do not try to force my hand again if you wish to retain my friendship. I will think twice before including you in my confidence in future.”
So saying, he stood up and walked back up the track, leaving two shaken woodmen behind him. He had only gone a little way when he heard hurried footsteps coming up behind him. Tarkyn stopped and waited, arms folded, knowing that whoever was approaching was carefully warning him of his arrival since normally a woodman’s footsteps made no sound. Ancient Oak appeared beside him.
“Well?” asked Tarkyn with raised eyebrows.
“Tarkyn, remember when we were talking up in that old oak on the day the crowd was arguing about how you should behave?”
Tarkyn nodded.
Ancient Oak took a breath, “Well, you said to feel free to pull you up if you b
ecame too arrogant or dismissive.”
Tarkyn waited.
“So, I’ve come to say that I think you were too harsh with Rainstorm.”
“Do you? And is he a particular friend of yours that you stand up for him like this?”
Ancient Oak shook his head and smiled, “No. But he’s a particular friend of yours and he just gave you the most handsome apology I’ve ever heard him give anyone and you rejected it.”
Tarkyn frowned, “He made me very angry. I have never had anyone speak to me like that in my entire life…. and I have no intention of allowing it to continue.” His mouth twitched in a half smile, “There is only so much familiarity I can handle. No matter how close people come to me, they must still treat me with respect.” Seeing Ancient Oak’s face tense, he added, “I expect myself to treat people around me with respect too. It is not a one way expectation.”
“You could argue that he’s treating you with respect because he treated you as he would one of his other friends.”
The prince shrugged. “Yes. You could argue that and you might be right. And yet, I’m afraid I cannot tolerate that level of familiarity. But I am also angry that he told you about the oath when we had agreed to tell no one.”
“Apparently you told him it would be time to tell everyone soon. So he didn’t think it mattered as much, now the rescue was over.”
“And do you think he should have told you as he did?”
Ancient Oak shook his head reluctantly. “No. He was definitely being cheeky to tell me like that. It should have been left up to you.”
Tarkyn gave a slow smile, “But he’s young, impetuous, passionate and it is second nature to him to push the boundaries. And I guess that’s why I like him. After all, he defied all his elders to untie me when I first met the forestals.” Tarkyn turned on his heel. “Very well. I’ll go back down and put him out of his misery.”
When they arrived back at the stream, Rainstorm was sitting where Tarkyn had left him, methodically breaking bits off the end of a stick, just as Tarkyn always did. As they approached, he looked up and Tarkyn could see the strain on his face.
“I’m really sorry, Tarkyn….” he began.
Tarkyn waved a hand. “You have already apologised. Once is enough. I accept your apology.”
Rainstorm let out a sigh of relief. “And are we still friends?”
“Yes. We are still friends.” It looked as though he would say more but then changed his mind and said, “What needed to be said has been said. Let’s leave it behind us.”
“But will you trust me to keep your confidence next time?”
Tarkyn looked at him for a moment. “Probably. I don’t think you’ll pull a stunt like this again but you might blurt something out if you were angry. So, it would depend what it was.”
Surprisingly, Rainstorm took this in good part. “Fair enough, Your Highness.”
Tarkyn’s eyebrows twitched a little at Rainstorm’s use of his title. It suggested a certain distance in their relationship that had not been there before. But Tarkyn did not comment on it, deciding to give things time to repair. After all, he couldn’t berate Rainstorm one minute for being too familiar and then criticise him for being too formal the next.
“Come on,” said Tarkyn, offering his hand. He pulled Rainstorm to his feet. “Let’s go back and plan our next moves.” He gave a little smile. “While we’re walking back, you can put their minds at rest about my wellbeing, if you like. You could also let them know my suggestions for future actions. That will give them time to think about it.”
While Ancient Oak went out of focus to mindtalk with the others, Rainstorm frowned suspiciously at Tarkyn and asked, “What are you smiling at?”
Tarkyn’s smile broadened. “Having all of you looking after me. It’s quite nice in its way.”
“Haven’t you always had people looking after you?”
Tarkyn considered for a moment before replying. “I suppose so. Certainly, in a practical or material sense. But most people looked after me as part of their role. Looking after my needs was the job that they were paid for.”
“What?” Rainstorm looked profoundly shocked. “Did none of them genuinely care for you at all, Your Highness? I can’t believe that.”
Tarkyn gave a rueful smile. “I’m sure some of them did but they would always have had the ulterior motive of making sure they kept their position in the Royal household.”
“What about Danton? He seems to care about you.”
Tarkyn put his head on one side. “You know, it has only been since he came to find me that I have really understood how much.” He shrugged, “The trouble with being a prince is that you just don’t know who would still be there if you didn’t have the power, money and influence.”
“So why is it any different with us?” asked Ancient Oak, joining the conversation.
Tarkyn was a little taken aback but made a recovery after a few moments’ thought.
“Itfeels different. You two came to see if I was all right, not because I was in danger or because the oath required it. Waterstone spent hours, days, looking after me when I was recovering when there was no payment or requirement to.” He nodded at Rainstorm. “You came swimming with me in that freezing stream yesterday because you knew I’d been upset. You didn’t have to. You could have stood on the bank or not come down to the stream with me at all.”
“Well, obviously we’re not interested in money but maybe we just want to share your power and influence,” suggested Ancient Oak, playing devil’s advocate.
Now, a hint of uncertainty passed over Tarkyn’s face.
“Stop it!” Rainstorm intervened firmly, “Tarkyn is only just learning to trust us, or anybody for that matter. Don’t confuse him.” He glanced up at the prince. “You were right the first time. We do care about you, above and beyond the oath. You know for a fact that I do, because I wasn’t even under the oath, to begin with. And I couldn’t give a toss for power and influence.”
“I’m sorry, Tarkyn. I was just teasing,” said Ancient Oak, giving his adoptive brother a pat on the back, “I care no more for power and influence than I do for money. Woodfolk are used to having a fair say in things that matter. It’s usually a given, so it’s not something we hanker after.”
Tarkyn’s face relaxed into a smile but Ancient Oaks’ last words had given him food for thought. As long as the woodfolk had a fair say, they wouldn’t be angling for power but if he upset their traditional decision-making too much, he would become the focus for power and attract the same sort of conniving attention that he had been the target for, at court. So far, he had insisted that the woodfolk keep their decision-making capacity but the urgency of recent events had meant that he had taken the lead on planning out their activities. With a jolt, he realised that he was quickly slipping back into his more accustomed role of being dictatorial.
“Ancient Oak, you’d better send everyone another message asking them for any other better ideas, if they have them, about what we should be doing.”
Ancient Oak regarded him quizzically for a moment before going out of focus to relay the message. When he had finished, he said, “I wasn’t trying to make a point, you know.”
“I didn’t think you were. I just suddenly realised the dangers of assuming too much authority. I can do it, but it will have consequences for me as well as for everyone else.” Suddenly Tarkyn grinned, “I can remember when Waterstone first offered me his friendship, I told him I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just using me for his own ends. That’s the problem with wielding too much power. You can’t be sure of anyone.”
Ancient Oak boggled at him. “You said that toWaterstone? He must have been livid!”
Tarkyn chortled. “He was. He was furious!” Then his face fell. “But soon after that, the controversy over Falling Rain’s exile reared its head and he began to realise why I was so circumspect about professed friendships. In fact when he realised the complications, he nearly retracted his offer of friendship to me altogether.
”
“Wolf’s teeth, Tarkyn. That was a bit rough.” Ancient Oak frowned, “I’m surprised at Waterstone. You can’t just be a person’s friend one day and then change your mind when it gets a bit difficult. True friendship is not like that.”
Tarkyn gave a slight smile. “Don’t judge him too harshly. He was the first woodman to risk getting to know me. Neither of us knew at that stage how we were going to co-exist under the oath. Neither of us knew that I wasn’t going to assume total control. If I had done so, his friendship with me would have made him a target for woodfolk seeking to influence my decisions, just as I had been a target for those seeking influence with my brothers at court. He wasn’t sure that he would know how to manage that….and on top of everything, I still didn’t fully trust him at that stage.”
“Still…”
Tarkyn shook his head, “No, not still. It was really just Waterstone’s way of saying he didn’t know how to cope with the challenge of being around me. He’d just wrecked part of the forest with his temper too. So he was feeling very bad about that and was worried about it happening again.” Tarkyn shrugged, “That’s the main reason I maintain my permission for him to attack me if he needs to, and why I have given it to you two and a couple of others, as well. Damage to the forest is too wicked a consequence for a temper outburst, especially when I am perfectly capable of defending myself.”
“I didn’t realise he’d damaged the forest,” mused Ancient Oak. “He hasn’t told me any of this.”
“Hasn’t he?” Tarkyn grimaced. “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you either, then.” He thought for a moment, “But all the home guard know about the damage to the forest. We all worked on repairing it together. So it’s not really a secret, is it?”
“So what decided you to trust him in the end?” asked Rainstorm.
Tarkyn glanced at him. “Trust you to be the one to ask the awkward question.” He shook his head. “Now that really would be breaking Waterstone’s confidence to tell you that. You will have to ask him and see whether he will tell you. I don’t feel that I can. However, I can tell you that it was an act of extreme courage on his part that decided the issue.”