The Wizard's Curse (Book 2)

by Jenny Ealey

  She gazed wonderingly around them all, “I was always so ashamed of him because he was half sorcerer.” Tears welled in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks as Lapping Water arrived carrying Midnight with Rainstorm and Ancient Oak bringing up the rear. After a glance at Tarkyn, Danton waved away his shield.

  “We all love him, Hail,” said Lapping Water as she handed him gently over to his mother.

  Hail sat down on the ground and rocked herself back and forth as she cradled him in her arms, “You don’t think he’ll end up like his father, do you?”

  Waterstone sat down beside her. “It doesn’t matter if he does … as long as he doesn’t make that same bad mistake. From what I saw of Pipeless, even though he was towering above us, he didn’t seem a bad sort of chap.”

  “He wasn’t,” said Bean. “He was a very clever but reclusive wizard. He just wasn’t very good with people. Midnight is much better company than his father ever was and Midnight can’t speak!”

  The laughter that greeted this remark roused Midnight slightly and he gazed blearily up into his mother’s eyes. When he realised, he shot upright and flung his arms around her neck. As she hugged him to her, Hail’s mind was filled with pictures of Midnight playing with the other children, of him dragging in the huge tree branch for the fire in the cave, of him making the wristband with Lapping Water and drifting out of the tall pine in Tarkyn’s arms. The image returned to the wristband with a picture of Hail wearing one with a query. Hail was laughing as she said to Tarkyn, “You don’t need to send me all these images. You can tell me what he’s been up to later.”

  Tarkyn grinned, “I’m not. Your son is sending them to you.He’s telling you all about it. You can send images back to him, you know. Just not words, at least not so far.”

  She looked down as Midnight tugged insistently on her sleeve. When he had her attention, he replayed the image of the wristband with the query. She nodded, laughing and crying all at once.

  Dry Berry looked on with an approving smile, “Hail, you know, a wise man once said, ‘We can’t change the past. We can only change the effect the past has on our future.’” She glanced at Tarkyn and cleared her throat self-consciously, “Something like that, anyway.”

  Hail just nodded and smiled.

  Chapter 55

  As they headed back towards the firesite, it became apparent that Waterstone was displeased. He kept his eyes forward and did not join in any of the laughing and joking that was going on around him. His mouth was set in a grim thin line and when they arrived, he left immediately to retrieve Sparrow and retire.

  Tarkyn watched him leave but knew that the woodman was deliberately using Sparrow as a barrier to any discussion. When he brought his eyes back to the group around him, he found Stormaway’s gaze upon him. He gave a little shrug and returned his attention to the people around him.

  The home guard moved out at crack of dawn the next morning. They headed up the same narrow path but swung away to the left when they reached the wider space at the top. At this altitude, the pines had begun to thin and other trees, stumpy and windblown, had been driven into gnarled shapes by years of weathering. The cover was sparser and the wind that blew around the home guard was iced with the first breath of winter. They travelled for half the morning, pushing uphill on legs that became tireder and sorer until finally Autumn Leaves said firmly, “Time for a halt. We are nearly at the top of the range. One more push after breakfast should do it.”

  Everyone sat down on patches of moss, on rocks or on rucksacks while a fire was lit. After the children had scoffed down bowls of porridge, they shot off to play wolves in the long coarse grass while the adults sat around resting and talking quietly. Waterstone had walked a little distance away with his breakfast and sat, hunched into himself and aloof.

  Tarkyn procured two cups of tea and headed over to join him. Waterstone barely glanced at him as he accepted his tea. After sitting in stony silence through half the cup, Tarkyn finally asked gently, “What is wrong, my friend?”

  Waterstone turned eyes on him filled with such bitterness and scorn that Tarkyn swayed backwards. “I think the fact that you don’t know makes it worse, if that’s possible.”

  Tarkyn’s hands whitened around his cup but he said nothing and simply waited.

  Eventually Waterstone began to talk, his voice vibrating with hurt and anger. “How could you risk our lives; Sparrow’s life, my life, Ancient Oak’s life, everyone’s lives on the whim of a half-crazed woman?” He took a deep breath to fuel his speech, “With no consultation, not even an apology. Nothing. Do we count for so little that you can stake all of us in one grandiose gesture to save one life?”

  “Waterstone, I didn’t think…”

  “Didn’t think?!…” Waterstone spluttered. “If that’s your best effort, that you didn’t even consider us, then I think it would be better if we just kept our relationship formal from here on in. You are the lord. We are your vassals, nothing more. You can do with us as you will and there is nothing we can do to stop you.” Then he shook out his empty tea cup before turning to confront Tarkyn, “How could you know that she would have enough clarity of mind to even understand what she was forfeiting if she jumped? You threw our whole welfare into the chance that she would obey you.You, a hated sorcerer.”

  Tarkyn’s mouth thinned and he turned his head to look at the tumbling white clouds forming on the horizon. After a moment, even though his eyes were glittering with anger, he said quietly “I was not going to say that I didn’t think of you. I was going to say that I didn’t think one refused command would affect the forest too much. If she had disobeyed my command, we would not have lost all the forests.”

  “How do you work that out?” demanded Waterstone.

  Tarkyn leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, “Do you remember the time I told you that the oath had spread and you asked whether I was ordering you not to tell anyone?”

  The woodman frowned, “Yes.”

  “And when I tried to walk away, you kept doing your woodfolk flick to bar my way? Well, I ordered you to get out of the way then and you just blatantly said, ‘No,’ and stood your ground.” Tarkyn looked sideways to meet Waterstone’s gaze. “Remember? There was a turbulent gust of wind after that, maybe a few leaves drifted down but not much more. No trees nearby were even damaged.”

  “So why did you look so aghast last night, when that gust of wind hit us as we were trying to reach her?”

  “I was worried she wouldn’t last until we got there. I wasn’t worried about the forest.”

  Still Waterstone was not satisfied, “But why didn’t you say anything when I said that our lives and the forest were teetering at the top of the cliff?”

  Tarkyn frowned at him, “I just thought you were being facetious. I must admit I did think it was a little discordant with the gravity of the situation but on the other hand…”

  “On the other hand, what?”

  Suddenly Tarkyn found that his throat had closed over and he was struggling to speak. He swallowed and said tightly, “On the other hand, until now, it would never have occurred to me that you might think me such a monster.” With a supreme effort, he achieved what he thought was a smile but was actually a grimace, “Still, you never can tell with us hated sorcerers, can you?”

  With a sense of inevitability, Tarkyn spotted Autumn Leaves heading over to join them. He smiled sadly at the solid woodman as he arrived, “Too little too late, my friend. I doubt that there is much you can retrieve from the fragments of the friendship that just died here this morning.” Tarkyn was too dispirited to be bothered getting up to walk away. He just sat there on the rock next to Waterstone, his arms linked across his drawn up knees encircling the dark pit in his stomach, staring at the clouds building on the horizon.

  Autumn Leaves pointed at Tarkyn, Waterstone and then himself. Correctly interpreting this, Tarkyn nodded his agreement for Waterstone to transmit their conversation.

  When Autumn Leaves’ eyes c
leared, he watched Tarkyn speculatively for a few minutes while he tried to work out how to say what he needed to. Finally he said, “Now, if I begin this conversation, will you contract to stay until the end of it?”

  Tarkyn brought dulled eyes around to focus on the woodman, “That can only mean that you concur with Waterstone but yes, I will.” He heaved a sigh that did not release any of the tension in him, “If we are to move forward as a people, I will have to confront and deal with what you think of me.” Autumn Leaves went to place his hand on Tarkyn’s shoulder but the prince held up his hand to keep him at bay. “I agree with Waterstone. Let’s just keep this formal for the time being. We may be able to revert afterwards. I don’t know.”

  Autumn Leaves looked uncertain, “Does that mean I have to bow, Your Highness?”

  The ghost of a smile wafted across Tarkyn’s face, “No. And you don’t have to use my title either. It just means that you keep your distance and focus solely on the matter at hand. Don’t try to be my friend until I know where I stand.”

  Autumn Leaves let out a silent whistle and glanced apprehensively at Waterstone.

  “Come on. Out with it!” Tarkyn’s voice cracked with tension, “It cannot be worse than what has gone before.”

  Autumn Leaves cleared his throat, “Tarkyn, the rest of us didn’t even know that there had been an occasion when your command had been refused with minimal damage to the forest.”

  “Obviously Waterstone didn’t remember it either,” said Tarkyn shortly. He grunted, “So, you all feel as Waterstone does, that I am a heartless monster who would throw your lives away on a gamble? Have you spent the night in mental huddles talking about it? Have you all closed your hearts off to me but not dared to show it?”

  “Just be glad that Waterstone’s reaction is to show his qualms.”

  “I’m not feeling glad about anything just at the moment.” Tarkyn stood up and began to pace back and forth. By now everyone in the home guard was aware that a tense situation had developed but were keeping well away, watching from a distance. Tarkyn swept his gaze across them. None of them met his eyes. He rounded on Autumn Leaves, “Well, you can tell them this from me; out of all of you, only Waterstone has had the decency to raise it with me and even then I had to begin the exchange. The rest of you were content to let this fester behind my back and destroy everything we had built up without even giving me a chance to explain my actions.”

  “Your Highness,” began Autumn Leaves, using Tarkyn’s title despite himself, “It is not as bad as you think. None of us thought that you had deliberately made that decision. It is more that we thought that you had panicked when faced with Hail on the edge of that cliff.”

  Tarkyn folded his arms and nodded sharply, “And so didn’t think of you at all, which, as Waterstone so clearly stated, is even worse.”

  “Just as you reacted without thinking when you saw that family under attack on the Great West Road,” added Waterstone tightly.

  Tarkyn looked from one to the other of them, “Reacting fast and forcefully does not necessarily constitute panicking.” He paused, “I admit that at the Great West Road, I didn’t remember that I should not, as a woodman, have revealed myself, but since it took me all the time until yesterday to figure that out, it was more a lack of understanding than a failure to consider all the angles at the time. I did not place you or the forests in danger through my actions either then or yesterday. And I believed until now that you understood that I had your welfare and the welfare of the forest at heart, above all else.” He dropped his arms and said coldly, “After all, I am obliged under the terms of the oath to consider your welfare. So you may be assured that I will continue to do so whether you have faith in me or not.”

  “It is only that you are young and inexperienced,” protested Autumn Leaves anxiously.

  “And hold our lives in your hands,” added Waterstone tightly, not looking at either of them.

  Tarkyn turned and took a few agitated paces before swivelling on his heel to face them. When he spoke, his voice was sharp with annoyance, “Now let’s get this straight, once and for all. I am only inexperienced in the ways of living in the wilds. I am not inexperienced in dealing with critical, fast decision-making. Being a successful tournament fighter requires split-second decisions and fast reflexes. And I have spent most of my life being trained in fighting and strategy and have spent years practising it under contrived pressure. They may have neglected my magical training but they did not neglect the basic requirements needed to lead men. When I sent that command to Hail, it was powered by a lifetime and generations of being obeyed without question. I didn’t need the oath to keep her on the top of that cliff. She only let go when she saw me because she had already obeyed my command and resented the fact that she had complied. The threat to the forest had nothing to do with it. She would have complied anyway.”

  “Stars above, you’re arrogant sometimes!” exclaimed Waterstone angrily.

  Suddenly the prince smiled, “I know I am. And what’s worse, it’s because I have reason to be. You know it’s true. You’re the one who keeps saying I don’t need the oath to keep everyone in line. Well, you’re absolutely right. The order I gave that you refused was little more than an emphatic request. I sent out a peremptory order for silence after the attack on me but the only person, other than Hail and Midnight, who has ever experienced one of my full-blown commands is Autumn Leaves… and that was only a demonstration.”

  Tarkyn raised his eyebrows at the heavy woodman who gave a wry smile in return and nodded reluctantly, “Yes, it was quite persuasive, as I recall.” Autumn Leaves frowned, “But you let Hail go on thinking that you had entrusted her with the forest’s welfare, didn’t you?”

  “What did you expect me to do? Take time out to explain that I hadn’t given her that trust while she was still so vulnerable? I don’t think so.” Tarkyn waved a hand. “You can go and explain it to her any time you like.”

  Waterstone, who was not interested in this angle on things, suddenly asked, “Are you now saying that we are effectively free to ignore your commands if we so wish?”

  Tarkyn shook his head, “No, I am saying that I don’t think the forest will suffer much if you do.” When Waterstone looked puzzled, the prince added gently, “Your honour will still be at stake.”

  The woodman digested this and grunted. After a short silence, he mused, “So the main threat to the forest seems to be caused by direct threats against you. Is that right?”

  “So it would seem,” agreed Tarkyn. “And the less blatant aggression of the harvesters’ sedition caused insidious damage, didn’t it? Blackened leaves and mouldering just like the nature of the attack on me. And I suspect that a mass refusal to bend to my will might also elicit severe damage to the forest.” He shrugged, “But how can we know?” A thought struck him and Tarkyn turned away to walk off among the nearby scraggy trees, studying their leaves and bark. He gestured for the other two to join him and pointed to dark grey, soft, furry growths that were rotting into the branches and trunks of the trees, “Hmm. I suspect we are looking at the cost of dishonouring me.”

  “We didn’t dishonour you,” exclaimed Autumn Leaves hotly.

  The prince straightened up and stared down at the two woodmen. “It may surprise you to know that I do not feel honoured by your belief that I might chance your lives on a whim and I do not feel honoured by clandestine gossip about my perceived shortcomings.” His eyes narrowed, “However, I am becoming very tired of the sorcery in this oath making my judgements for me.”

  Tarkyn stared over their heads, thinking through all he knew about the oath while a part of his mind watched the children playing in the long grass and saw the other woodfolk and sorcerers chatting quietly and keeping their eyes on the progress of his discussions. His eyes swung around to alight on Stormaway who was seated slightly apart, watching him intently. Tarkyn murmured a request for the wizard to be summoned.

  Waterstone obliged by sending a mental request to Thunder S
torm who walked over to deliver the message. But even in that short time, Stormaway had already stood up and taken the first few steps towards Tarkyn. The wizard nodded a brief acknowledgement to Thunder Storm as he continued on his way.

  When he arrived, Stormaway bowed low, saying quietly once he had straightened, “You requested me, Your Highness?”

  The two woodmen frowned at the unexpected degree of the wizard’s deference but Tarkyn accepted it without comment, “Stormaway, among us here, there are at least two people I know of, who have no qualms about lying when it suits them. Danton is one, and you are the other. As you probably know, I am not particularly good at discerning prevarication and I do not expect it to be used against me by those loyal to me.”

  “May I say that it is one of your more endearing traits, my lord?” said Stormaway gravely but with a twinkle in his eye.

  Tarkyn gave a small grunt of laughter. “I myself do not find it particularly convenient. However…” He paused and said with no heat at all, “However, Stormaway, I now realise you have lied to me from beginning to end.”

  “Indeed, my lord.” The wizard gave another slight bow as though he had just been complimented. “But surely this comes as no surprise. After all, I told you when I first met you that I was devious.”

  Tarkyn couldn’t suppress a smile. After a moment, he folded his arms and said quietly, “Stormaway Treemaster, I command you to remove the oath’s bond to the forest.”

  Stormaway beamed and bowed low, “Certainly Your Highness. It would be a pleasure. Your command is my will.” He tapped his long gnarled staff twice on the ground. The first tap gave a faint echo within the earth but the second resounded with a great boom that sent shock waves beneath the surface and rippled off across the grasslands, through the windswept trees, out across the mountains and down into the forest below. A streak of green light shot skywards from the top of his staff and spread across the underside of the gathering clouds, leaving a strange dimmed light in its wake until gradually, it dissipated and daylight re-asserted itself.