by Jenny Ealey
Danton patted him on the back with a friendly smile, “That’s royalty for you. It’s the price you pay for the privilege of being near them.”
“That’s why we’ve never gone near Tormadell,” put in Bean.
“Yeah, true,” agreed String, “And look at us now. Stuck right in it.”
“Bean, you may say that, but I remember last night you were prepared to risk Tarkyn’s ire to protect him,” said Waterstone with a smile.
Bean put down his empty cup and gave a wry smile. “You have to keep things in perspective. I mightn’t like being on the end of a tongue lashing but it doesn’t bother me enough to risk someone’s life to avoid it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, he seems to have forgotten all about it. So I think I got away with it.”
Stormaway frowned. “He should have thanked you for it. I’m surprised at his lapse in manners.”
String snorted, “As you say, that’s royalty for you. Angry at you when you don’t perform to expectation, ignore you when you do.”
“I don’t think that is fair, young man,” snapped Dry Berry. “Tarkyn went through a very taxing experience on our behalf last night. He could barely stand up by the end of it, let alone address your social niceties.” She waved her hand in the direction of the stream. “And look at him this morning. It’s late morning and he still couldn’t hold a conversation together, I suspect.”
Bean nodded, “She’s right, you know, String. Anyway, why should he thank us? We owe him one for allowing us to put our case to you woodfolk. And besides, we’re just doing the same as all of you, serving our sovereign lord, whether we like it or not. Mightn’t have been something we’d have chosen to do, but now that we’re here and he’s here….well, it’s just part of the deal, isn’t it?”
Despite his words, they all knew that the potential tongue lashing had been the least of the dangers he had faced when he gone to the support of his prince and that, in view of Tarkyn’s clear instructions, he could easily have justified avoiding it.
“Bean, as his older brother, I would like to thank you,” said Watertone solemnly. “If you hadn’t been there, I might have had to endanger the forest to be by his side myself. He needed you. He had begun to look very insubstantial and I am not sure that he could have returned to himself without your help.” The woodman gave a bitter laugh, “There are times when the oath prevents us from helping him, serving him, whatever you want to call it, as much as we would like to. He told us in no uncertain terms that he would endanger himself to protect us as he saw fit, but yesterday he removed our right to endanger ourselves to protect him.” Waterstone shook his head, “I’m going to have to talk to him about this. It’s not good enough.”
Thunder Storm smiled at him, “Go for it, Waterstone. You tell the prince what we’ll put up with. He needs a firm hand like yours to keep him in line.”
Danton’s purple eyes surveyed them in some amusement, “So, you’re going to bring him into line, are you, by insisting that you be allowed to serve him better? That’s really telling him then, isn’t it?”
A ripple of laughter greeted this sally.
“He’s a feisty bastard,” chuckled Running Feet, “but we wouldn’t be without him. So we want to be able to protect him, even if we don’t have to.”
Autumn Leaves turned to Stormaway and asked, “Are they all like that? Harsh at times but inspiring loyalty? What are his brothers like? And what was his father like, compared with him? Usually, I mean, not when we saw him in the forest.”
“Danton will know better than I about Tarkyn’s brothers now,” replied Stormaway. “I haven’t seen them for over ten years. When I last saw them they were fifteen years old and competing in everything. They would never have roused your displeasure by preventing you from taking risks on their behalf. They would have assumed that you would be glad to die for them. They spent more time vying with each other than taking any notice of the people around them. They saw everyone as a tool or an audience to gain points in their ongoing competition with each other.” A shadow crossed the wizard’s face, “While Markazon was king, it was just friendly sport between brothers. But as soon as he died, the jackals gathered.”
“Wouldn’t there have been factions around the brothers before that?” asked Autumn Leaves.
Stormaway shook his head. “Not really. No one expected Markazon to die. The twins were still young and their father should have reigned for another twenty years or more. When Kosar ascended the throne, many people who had been friends with both of them, abandoned Jarand to work on gaining favour with the new king. Those who couldn’t find a way in with Kosar, turned their attention to Jarand by sympathising with his loss and fuelling his understandable chagrin. To support their own interests, the lords of the land used the twins’ rivalry to drive a wedge between them, and the brothers were too young to understand what was being done to them.”
“And are Tarkyn’s brothers any different now?” asked Bean. “It doesn’t sound like it from all that I have heard.”
Danton shook his head, “They are far worse. A childhood rivalry has been manipulated into an ongoing dangerous feud. They now hate each other, and with just cause. Each has worked against the other to destroy him. In public, they assume an icy courtesy towards each other that chills the blood to witness. Their betrayal of Tarkyn was one of only a handful of occasions when they have worked in concert.”
“And how are they with their liegemen?” asked String.
Danton thought carefully before replying, “They are very similar to each other. Kosar is perhaps more authoritative, Jarand more silky and devious. But I suspect each would act as the other does, if their positions were reversed. They both anger easily and humiliate people at will, particularly if it will throw their brother’s decisions or actions into a poor light. Because of their exalted status, the slightest smile or gesture of approval is received with fervent gratitude by their retainers. Everyone at court knows that their future life and prosperity depends on the whim of these two men. More than that, the prosperity and safety of courtiers’ families depends on them as well.” Danton shook his head, “No, I was not sorry to leave there. But many people thrive on that sort of treatment. They would lay down their lives willingly for the slightest sign of favour.”
Waterstone smiled wryly, “You would lay down your life for Tarkyn. I know you.”
Danton gave a gentle smile, “Yes, I would. Without a moment’s hesitation. But not because Tarkyn threatens me or throws me the odd favour. In fact, by supporting him, I have placed my family at risk and I hope they don’t pay a price for my loyalty to him.”
“So what has he done to inspire this degree of loyalty in you?” asked Bean. “I know he is a forest guardian and a legend for the woodfolk but as I understand it, your loyalty to him predates all of this and has lost you any influence you may have had at court and has effectively exiled you.”
“Not to mention making me a figure of ridicule for the woodfolk,” added Danton. He raised his hand as a wave of protest broke forth and shook his head, smiling. “It’s no good denying it. You know perfectly well that it’s true.” He shrugged, “Anyway, to answer your question…”
“No, wait,” intervened String, “Let me work it out.” He waved his hand around the circle of woodfolk. “If this lot who were recently forced into his service are trying to make him accept more from them, one can reasonably assume that a lifetime of knowing him would inspire even greater dedication.”
“Something like that. But there have been particular things he has done for me for which I could never repay him.” Seeing them all waiting for further information, Danton sighed and dropped his eyes to stare steadfastly into his teacup as he remembered, “When I was first sent away from my family to the palace to go into Tarkyn’s service, I was eight years old and he was six. I cried every day for a week.” At the audible intake of breath that greeted this revelation, Danton glanced up in time to see shocked sympathy on the faces of his audience. He smiled wryly but didn’t comm
ent, “Every day, Tarkyn would bring me a new toy or a game to try to cheer me up. Eventually when none of this worked, he disappeared for half a morning and when he came back with his nanny in tow, he had a little fluffy puppy in his arms. He thrust it at me, stood back and smiled hopefully. Actually, to be honest, I didn’t like dogs very much then, but I couldn’t refuse his gift both because he had tried so hard and because of his position. We named that little puppy Rollabout. We named it together and played with it together and gradually I came to terms with losing my family.” He shrugged, “And I suppose I transferred all the affection I would have given them onto Tarkyn. He was my staunch ally. He wouldn’t let me take the blame for anything he had done.”
“Obviously not,” interrupted Autumn Leaves, “Not with his code of ethics.”
“No, you don’t understand. That was part of my role, to take his punishments. When he did something wrong, I was supposed to be held responsible, and berated or whipped for it.”
There was another shocked intake of breath but Waterstone, who had discussed this with Tarkyn before, protested, “But Tarkyn told me himself that you were publicly berated when he had drunk excessively on one occasion. He let you take the blame then.”
“We were older then and it was in court in front of the King and his courtiers. If Tarkyn had stood up to his brother in that forum, I would have been whipped or even imprisoned for his insubordination. There was nothing he could do. But he never let it happen again.”
Dry Berry frowned, “So what happened when you were younger?”
Danton laughed at the memory, “Even as a chubby little six year old, he was pretty feisty. When I was to be punished, he would stand in front of me, with his arms folded and a forbidding expression on his face. When his nanny or manservant tried to pull him aside, he would demand that they unhand him on pain of severe punishment. They were no more allowed to treat him disrespectfully as a six year old than they were as an adult, you see. Their only option was then to fetch his father, mother or brother who would remonstrate with him and would themselves remove him from in front of me.”
“Then what would happen?”
Danton smiled, “Then I would be berated or flogged while Tarkyn stood by, yelling and crying and struggling to get away to protect me. He couldn’t stand to see me suffer on his behalf. He would be absolutely beside himself.”
“All a bit pointless though, I would have thought,” remarked Autumn Leaves astutely. “You still ended up with the punishment and, I suspect, probably more for his unruly behaviour.”
“True. I did. It took me a long time to get that through his stubborn little six-year-old head. But when he finally did understand what his actions were doing, he changed his tactics.” He glanced at Waterstone, “I suspect you won’t like what he chose to do next.”
Danton stood up and poured himself another cup of tea from the big kettle hanging over the fire. Sitting down he blew on his tea before saying, “One day, soon after Tarkyn’s seventh birthday, we were playing with Rollabout and, between the three of us, a precious antique vase was broken. Needless to say, it was I who stood to be punished for it. The dog was shooed outside, and Tarkyn and I were lined up in front of Old Laramar, Tarkyn’s tutor, to be disciplined. I was told to take my shirt off and to stand facing the wall. Obviously I was about to be flogged. Behind me, I heard Tarkyn grab the whip out of the old tutor’s hand and order him away. I must admit I sighed to myself, knowing this would mean an even more severe punishment. Old Laramar left in high dudgeon and predictably, returned with a family member, this time King Markazon. I glanced at Tarkyn and shook my head slightly, hoping he would back down.
“And did he?” asked String.
Danton gave a short laugh, “Far from it. For a while he appeared to back down. He stood quietly to one side, which was unusual, and waited until Old Laramar was standing ready to whip me with the King supervising. Then Tarkyn threw up his shield and held out his arm to show the King that he was holding a razor sharp piece of the vase pressed onto the skin of his forearm. He said that for every stroke of the whip, he would cut his arm once. His father glared at him for several long moments. The King ordered him to remove his shield and to behave but Tarkyn met his stare and refused to comply. Markazon then turned away decisively and ordered Old Laramar to flog me.
“Even as the first stroke of the whip came down, I heard Tarkyn’s voice, calm and strong, saying, “As you choose, father.” The King whipped his head back around to see blood welling up from a cut on his son’s forearm. Old Laramar had not been ordered to stop. So, as the second stroke hit me, Tarkyn cut himself again. Blood began to drip from his arm onto the polished parquetry floor but Tarkyn paid no heed. His intense amber eyes did not leave those of his father’s. As Old Laramar raised his arm again, the King ordered him to stop and waved his hand in dismissal.
“The King yelled furiously at his little seven-year-old son, standing in his shield defying him. He roared that he could order Tarkyn’s and, of course, my death as well, for such defiance. When Tarkyn realised that I could be put to death for his actions, he looked uncertain for the first time, but still he did not drop his shield. After a long silence, Tarkyn bowed low and when he straightened, trembling slightly, he finally replied, “Sire, we only broke a vase. And I have only tried to protect my friend. I have tried to be perfect so that he is never punished but I can’t do it. I don’t remember all the rules all the time, you see. I have tried and tried but I can’t do it.” Then he started crying but still he kept his shield up and kept the sharp piece of vase in his hand. And all this time, his blood was dripping onto the floor, beginning to pool at his feet. Markazon was clearly at a loss. He saw me watching and snapped at me to put my shirt back on and leave.”
Danton took a sip of his tea.
“Well go on, what happened then?” asked Dry Berry impatiently.
Danton shrugged and smiled, “I don’t know. I wasn’t there, you see, and Tarkyn never told me. But from then on, I was not punished for Tarkyn’s wrong doings. We were both just told off together.”
“What about when Markazon died and Kosar took over?” asked Stormaway.
“No. Not until we were much older and there was that one incident that came to public notice. I think the brothers were too busy with their own affairs to concern themselves with events in the nursery. Besides, once Tarkyn had his own way, there were no more scenes and disputes, and fetching the family to override his misbehaviour. So there was no need to revise Markazon’s decision.”
Autumn Leaves was smiling hugely, “You have to hand it to Tarkyn. What a brave, loyal little fellow, to stand up to his father like that. Markazon was terrifying when he was angry. And no wonder the King had faith in his son when he came to us in the forest.” He frowned, “But why, after all you had been through together and everything he had done for you, didn’t Tarkyn realise he could trust you?”
Danton shrugged unhappily, “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think he understands the effect he has on people; how much you and we are willing to do for him,” suggested Waterstone. “And nothing in his behaviour has changed. He was willing to give everything to help you and now it is the same with us. But he never asked or expected you or anyone else to take risks by covering for him then, and he still won’t allow us to do it now.”
“There is a certain sublime arrogance about all that;” mused Bean, “insisting that he needs no one’s help.”
Waterstone shook his head, “No. I don’t think it’s that. He will accept help, provided it does not place anyone at risk. From what Danton has just told us, I think Tarkyn has spent his life making sure people don’t suffer because of him. And he’s still doing it now.”
“If that’s true, he must have hated the fact that we had been forced into the oath because of him,” said Autumn Leaves, “No wonder he tried so hard to be accommodating.”
“Yes, it all fits, doesn’t it?” said Running Feet thoughtfully. “Well, I wish you luck, Waterst
one, in trying to change it.”
Waterstone grunted, “Hmm, could be a challenge, I agree. Still, he’s changed other preconceptions, so I hold out some hope.”
At this juncture, Tarkyn’s message of apology came through from Ancient Oak. Waterstone’s eyes gleamed with laughter as he relayed it faithfully to Danton, “Tarkyn says, and I quote, ‘I am sorry if I have upset you and thank you for your efforts in apprehending the two bounty hunters. I also acknowledge your superior knowledge and skill within the woodland.”
“What is Ancient Oak doing, demanding an apology from Tarkyn after all he did for us last night?” scowled Dry Berry.
“Different issue all together,” said Danton with a smile. “I think Rainstorm and Ancient Oak had a lovely little plan to hand over the administration of lookout duty to Tarkyn if he didn’t allow other people to take some responsibility.”
Dry Berry shook her head disapprovingly, “You’re pretty tough on him, you lot.”
Waterstone suddenly roared with laughter. “Sorry, Dry Berry. But I think when you hear this, you will realise that it takes more than that to cow our forest guardian. Danton, Tarkyn added a small rider to his apology and I quote, ‘Just bear in mind when you’re making your judgements that neither the other sorcerers nor I can join in with your mind talking and are prone to being isolated. Furthermore, I may have less bushcraft than you, but I have vastly more power and experience of sorcerers than you woodfolk and I want it used for everyone’s safety, especially if there are outside sorcerers involved.’”
Stormaway smiled fondly, “That’s my boy. Takes the wind out of their sails but doesn’t actually budge an inch.”
Hard upon this remark, the man in question arrived in person, helped himself to a cup of tea and sat down next to a scruffy old mountain ash. Holding his cup in one hand, Tarkyn placed the palm of his other hand against the tree and took a deep breath to settle himself in. He looked around at them all, “You’re all very quiet this morning. Don’t tell me you’re plotting too. I’ve been surrounded by plots for the last couple of hours.”