The Wizard's Curse (Book 2)

by Jenny Ealey

  “Your Highness, it was only because Waterstone specifically asked me not to, that I did not address him as Your Highness right from the start.” Despite his predicament, the ghost of a smile appeared on Danton’s face. “Although I may not have accorded him the same respect as I give to you, I believe I still wish to pay him more signs of respect than he wishes to receive.”

  Tarkyn gave a grunt of laughter. “I can imagine that. So, my lord Danton, when I think back to the altercations between Waterstone and myself, the only difference is that I was able to throw up a shield when Waterstone first attacked me that prevented him from touching me, whereas Waterstone could not do that when you attacked him. In fact, I suspect that Waterstone’s attack would have been more ferocious and prolonged than your one punch on the chin if I had allowed him to reach me.”

  “And what punishment did you decree, Your Highness, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “None. The oath did it for me. A large tract of forest was damaged.”

  “And what if he had laid a hand on you before you gave your permission?”

  Tarkyn thought carefully. “This is where we come to the crux of the matter. If I had been caught unawares, I may have flung him away from me but then I would simply have kept him at bay until he calmed down. I would not have exacted the death penalty. But in a woodman’s case, whether I like it or not, the oath exacts its revenge on the forest. However, you are not a woodman. You’re a sorcerer and should know better.” He looked across at Waterstone and added hastily, “…. about protocol, I mean. And since the oath will not exact a punishment on you, I must.”

  Images flashed through the prince’s mind of the punishments exacted for disrespect. He thought about his brother holding court and what he would have done. He thought about the incidents with the woodfolk and how he had handled them. Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair. He realised he had reached a point where having no assumptions left him without a foundation for his decision. There were no longer any absolute rights and wrongs. Everything hinged on his judgement. He thought of asking Waterstone or even Danton to decide the punishment but realised he was just dodging his responsibility.

  Finally, the prince drew a breath and said, “Within the forest, my word is law. Having nothing else to guide me, I choose the road with heart. Danton, you have served me well, and truly. You have left all your friends and family to search me out and you have risked your life and our good opinion of you in the service of the woodfolk and me. You have also shown that you do honour Waterstone.” He paused. “Because of these things, I will waive the death penalty. But there must be some punishment. I have tried to hit upon something that will affect you, at least to some extent, in the same way that damage to the forest affects the woodfolk…. Therefore, I decree that from tomorrow onwards, while you live within the forest, you must wear the same attire as the woodfolk.”

  Danton blinked, “I beg your pardon, my lord?”

  Tarkyn gave a slight smile. “Although you have done wrong by hitting a member of the Royal Family, you do not deserve to be severely punished for a small altercation between friends in a context far removed from the formality of court. I know your clothing and appearance are important to you. So, your punishment is that you will wear woodfolk attire…with pride,” he added dryly.

  An involuntary shiver of released fear travelled down Danton’s spine. He gave a small bow and spoke with heartfelt sincerity, “Thank you, Sire. I am overwhelmed by your generosity.” As he straightened up, he glanced at Waterstone, “However, I am not sure how complimentary it is to the woodfolk to decree that their way of dress is a punishment.”

  Tarkyn laughed. “It would not be a punishment to most people. I myself find their clothing very comfortable, practical and attractive in its way. However, I know it will be a challenge for you to forgo your fine clothes.”

  Danton gave a little sigh, “Yes, it will be, Sire, but I could be regretting so much more than losing my fine wardrobe. So I will accept it with equanimity.” The blonde sorcerer’s eyes narrowed as he gradually focused on the woodman, “Do you know, I think we may be able to improve the cut of these clothes of yours, Waterstone? And some touches of subtle embroidery down each side of the front and perhaps a little on the sleeves could do wonders.”

  “Danton,” said Tarkyn gently. “As long as you understand that in the world of sorcerers, Waterstone is a prince and that even though he does not want that formally recognised, he is worthy of your respect.”

  Danton immediately became serious, “Waterstone has always been worthy of my respect, regardless of his status.”

  “Be that as it may,” said Waterstone gruffly, entering the conversation, “I understand enough to know that I need to give you permission to hit me, if we are to be able to have decent conversations that may get a bit heated at times. I’ll be talking to Ancient Oak about that too.” He looked across at Stormaway. “And you? You’re not the hitting type really, are you? You can have my permission if you want it. I’m not having these shenanigans again. What a nightmare!” He heaved a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry Danton, for what I said….and for what you’ve just been through. I wouldn’t have wished that on you for the world.” He clapped his arm across Danton’s back. “Come on. I think we all need a drink after that.”

  As they turned to walk back to the firesite, Tarkyn said, “Waterstone, I would prefer it if this were kept between the four of us. It was after all, a matter of sorcerer’s law, not woodfolk’s.”

  Waterstone glanced at him. “I wouldn’t dream of demeaning Danton by sharing it with anyone, other than Ancient Oak, of course.”

  Tarkyn was left feeling that he had once more blotted his copy book in Waterstone’s eyes. Sensing this as he came up beside Tarkyn, Stormaway gave the young prince a clap on the shoulder, saying in a quiet but carefully carrying voice, “Well done, Your Highness. I have never seen or heard of such sound judgement combined with such clemency before. You managed to find a way to save Danton from certain death while preserving both your own and Waterstone’s honour. I don’t know whether your father would have approved. In some ways, you are stronger and kinder than he. Your brother certainly wouldn’t approve. You showed great strength of character to go against years of tradition to reach your own judgement.”

  Waterstone stopped dead ahead of them and turned around. “Sorry, Tarkyn. I was judging you by woodfolk standards. Thanks Stormaway,” he added, not for a moment deceived about the purpose of the wizard’s little speech. “You’re right. Tarkyn does deserve acknowledgement.” For the first time he took in the lines of strain around Tarkyn’s mouth and said slowly, “I guess that was just about as hard for you as it was for all of us, wasn’t it Tarkyn?”

  Tarkyn nodded shortly but made no other reply, clearly not comfortable with discussing it in front of Danton.

  The woodman gave his head a little shake. “You sorcerers are a scary bunch with your draconian approach to punishment. I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to risk going to court in the first place.”

  The prince ignored this little jibe and asked, “Waterstone, what did you say, as a matter of interest, that so incensed Danton that he lost control?”

  Waterstone eyed Tarkyn, “Danton had just finished telling me what an honour it is to serve the latest generation of forty-eight kings….”

  Tarkyn smiled broadly, “with which, I’m sure, you were in full accord.”

  “Hmph. Then I said that, in that case, he’d been pretty quick to abandon Kosar who, let’s face it, has more right than you to his subjects’ loyalty.”

  Danton listened in silence, his face set, rigidly back in control but still obviously unhappy with the conversation.

  “Oh my word, Waterstone. You really were playing with fire, weren’t you?” Tarkyn glanced at Danton, “My friend here has talked very little of his decision to come after me and leave the King’s service. But knowing him as I do, I would hazard a guess that it was one of the hardest decisions he ever had t
o make.”

  Danton looked up and met Tarkyn’s eyes. He shook his head and smiled, “No Tarkyn, it wasn’t. I have always been your man. You just never tested me. What was hard was coming to terms with losing my faith in two people whom I had revered all my life. As I was saying, before I so rudely interrupted myself,” said Danton with a flash of humour, “even if my loyalty lay with you, I always considered it an honour to be asked to serve any member of the Royal Family. But no longer. Now, I only consider it an honour to serve you.”

  Tarkyn smiled slowly, “Danton, I fear I have grievously underestimated you.”

  “No, my lord,” said Danton, “You have underestimated yourself. You never gave me or anyone else the chance to stand by you.”

  “Perhaps not. But I would not have wished to place anyone unnecessarily at risk on my behalf.”

  Danton gave a proprietal smile. “You see, Waterstone, why it is such an honour to have been asked to serve His Highness?”

  “I acknowledge Tarkyn’s integrity but we weren’t asked. We were forced,” pointed out Waterstone. “And it is your culture not ours that reveres generations of kings. We don’t even acknowledge any difference in rank.”

  “Except mine,” put in Tarkyn.

  “Yes, but that’s force, not belief,” said Waterstone conversationally, at which point he became acutely aware that he was in the midst of three people who were finding his words offensive.

  Into the stony silence that greeted this remark, Danton said, “I would think very carefully about giving me permission to hit you if you are going to make remarks like that.”

  “But it is exactly because I don’t believe in ranks, that I give you my permission.”

  Danton turned to Tarkyn, “And why did you give your permission to Waterstone, if I may ask?”

  Tarkyn smiled at Waterstone while he considered his answer. “Many reasons. More now than at the time. First and foremost, to protect the forest from the consequences of Waterstone’s anger. Secondly, and this will sound strange coming from me, Danton, to put us on a more equal footing.”

  Danton looked bewildered, “I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

  Tarkyn ran his hand through his hair, “This is hard to explain. Because Waterstone always treated me as an equal it somehow seemed only fair to return the compliment”

  “But Your Highness! That was an outrageous presumption for Waterstone to treat you as an equal.”

  Tarkyn smiled, “On the face of it, you would think so. But under the circumstances in which we found ourselves, it was an act of true generosity of spirit for him even to consider getting to know me. But more than that, Waterstone is the first person I ever met who saw me firstly as Tarkyn and secondly, or sometimes not at all, as a prince.”

  Tarkyn glanced at Waterstone and a look of understanding passed between them, while Danton mulled this over for some time, clearly struggling in his mind’s eye, to detach Tarkyn from his role. Eventually he asked, “You say the first, not the only person. Are there others who treat you in this way?”

  “Yes. And more as time goes by. Autumn Leaves was the next after Waterstone. Thunder Storm mostly does but he gets a bit confused sometimes. Raging Water and Rainstorm do. Ancient Oak does now and, of course, Sparrow. Golden Toad does surprisingly, and possibly now Rushwind. North Wind and Tree Wind are getting there.”

  Danton looked pole-axed. “But this is dreadful. All these people seeing you as a mere person. And do all of these people have your permission to attack you?”

  “No Danton, not all of them.” Just as Danton was relaxing, Tarkyn added with a little smile, “Only five others.”

  Dannton frowned in consternation, “But Your Highness, these rules were made to protect the Royal Family. The monarchy must be detached from the people. Otherwise you will have anarchy before you know what is happening.”

  Much to Tarkyn’s surprise, Stormaway rose to his defence. “No, Danton. You need have no fear of that. At first, I too feared for the prince’s consequence. But despite my earlier qualms, Tarkyn is, so far, managing to walk the tightrope between maintaining true friendships with these people and maintaining his status. It is not an easy balancing act by any means. Far easier, in my opinion to keep a distance but, largely due to this woodman here, it is not the path Tarkyn has chosen to take.”

  Waterstone raised his eyebrows, “I think you will find that Tarkyn is quite able to assert his authority if he feels the need.”

  “The trick is knowing when to do it and how strongly,” added Tarkyn with a wry smile. “And I don’t think I always judge that correctly.” His eyes twinkled, “But I do have a few fail-safes built into my system.”

  Danton frowned, “Such as?”

  “Such as particular people who will tell me if I am being too harsh or too autocratic. Waterstone, Ancient Oak and Autumn Leaves, to be specific. Oh, and Sparrow, now I come to think of it.”

  “And who will tell you if you are being too lenient?” asked Danton.

  The prince smiled, “That’s where you and Stormaway come in. You two always have a weather eye out for my consequence. So you see, in our funny way we have advisors from all viewpoints, just as we would have at court.”

  Part 3: The Great West Road

  Chapter 11

  By mid-morning, the woodfolk had left the damaged area far behind them and were strung out along the Great West Road through the forest. Crossing the road undetected was always a major undertaking for a large group. Its width made it impossible to cross via overhanging trees, and their ability to flick into hiding was too short-distanced to take them right across its breadth. Consequently, they had to cross where the road surface was rocky and they would leave no footprints. They chose a straight section of road that curved out of sight about one hundred yards away to the east and disappeared over a hill towards the west. Lookouts were placed on the curve and on the brow of the hill to give warning of approaching travellers.

  For over an hour, they remained hidden in the bushes near the roadside waiting for a gap in the flow of small, varied groups of walkers, riders, pack animals and carts. Each time they readied themselves to move, a lookout would signal the approach of another group of people.

  “This is so tedious,” whispered Tarkyn to Waterstone.

  Waterstone shrugged. “The price of elusiveness.”

  “Maybe we’ll have to wait until dark.”

  “Unlikely. There’s usually a break, although the traffic is quite constant today.” Suddenly Waterstone put up his hand for silence and froze. As he went out of focus, Tarkyn picked up images of intruders among them.

  Tarkyn sent Waterstone an image of Stormaway and Danton with a query. In return, he received an image of them further along, deep in a thicket of hawthorn lying beside Running Feet and Falling Branch.

  As Tarkyn waited, he became aware of a ragged, rough individual, long curved blade held in his right hand, who was moving quietly between the trees towards the road not twenty feet from him. The man seemed intent on watching the road and paid little heed to the surrounding woodland. Tarkyn heard a slight sound and realised another ruffian was moving towards the road on the other side of him.

  “How many?” mouthed Tarkyn.

  Waterstone went of focus for a short time then mouthed eight.

  As they watched, a small family appeared over the hill, a teenaged son leading their reluctant, bad-tempered packhorse. The mother and father were in the lead while two daughters walked between them and their son.

  Within the trees, the brigands tensed and crept closer. Suddenly, brigands further down the road began to loose arrows. Before thought could intervene, a bronze streak of power flashed out and burnt the arrows in mid-flight and a translucent bronze shield slammed into position around the traveller family. Within the shimmering bronze light, the family cowered in fear and the son struggled to control their plunging packhorse.

  Beside Tarkyn, Waterstone rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he received a clear image of t
he brigands being struck by slingshots. With a resigned shrug, he transmitted Tarkyn’s request to his fellow woodfolk and along the road, eight brigands fell senseless to the ground.

  “So now what,Your Highness?” hissed Waterstone.

  “Waterstone, I couldn’t let them die.”

  “They are nothing to do with us,” exclaimed Waterstone vehemently.

  “They are everything to do with me, however.”

  Waterstone glowered at him. “You will give us all away. And you will give yourself away and put yourself in danger.”

  “Waterstone,” Tarkyn’s voice was calm but firm, “I would never reveal your presence to outsiders. Your oath is my oath. But after the purging the other day, people know I’m somewhere in the area anyway.” He grimaced ruefully at the woodman, “And now I will have to reveal myself to this family. They will already know from the colour of my magic that I am here and I don’t want them thinking I’m attacking them. I’m sorry. I know I haven’t consulted you properly but events overtook us. I will give you these choices though. You can disappear and leave the brigands to wake up and wonder what hit them, you can simply kill them or you can bind them so that we can question them before we kill them.”

  Waterstone’s eyes widened, “Wolves’ teeth, Tarkyn. You’re pretty cold blooded about all this. I don’t think you understand. We can kill, and will if someone sees us. But it almost never arises. None of us has ever killed in cold blood when someone is bound and helpless.”

  Tarkyn looked at him quizzically. “Well, let’s compromise. You people keep them unconscious until we work out what we want to do – Where are Stormaway and Danton? I think we may need them.” He smiled, “Meanwhile I’m going out there to reassure that panic-stricken family”

  “Don’t take long. Be prepared to cut and run if I relay an image from the lookouts.”

  “Agreed.”

  Leaving Waterstone to organise the woodfolk, Tarkyn disentangled himself from the bushes and stepped out onto the road.