by Jenny Ealey
“Yes. No problem at all. Perfectly straight forward.”
Tarkyn was smiling but persisted, “And do you know enough about the area to plan our approach or should I send the egret up for another look around?”
With an effort, Running Feet calmed himself down, “I think I know enough. You may need to make contact again when we’re closer but I know as much as I need to for the time being.”
Tarkyn transmitted his gratitude to the egret and pulled out.
“See you,” said Running Feet cheerily, giving Tarkyn a few enthusiastic pats on the back before running back to the cave to share the news, the two trappers close behind him.
Chapter 59
For a long time after the others had returned to the cave, Tarkyn sat in the snow under a tree, wrapped in his wolf skin cloak, wondering about how Falling Rain would react to their advent. The prince was particularly concerned about Falling Rain’s reaction to Stormaway when he found out that the wizard had used mind control to force him to betray the whereabouts of the other woodfolk and thus earn himself exile. He heard crunching footsteps in the snow behind him before Waterstone came into sight around the side of the tree. Tarkyn glanced up and smiled as the woodman sat down beside him. “Hello. Come to see whether I’m all right, have you?”
“What you? A hated sorcerer?” Waterstone said lightly, throwing a sideways glance to check that it was taken in good part. “Yes, I have actually.”
“Don’t worry. I knew you were talking about Hail’s perceptions, not your own when you called me that.” Tarkyn picked up a long stick and began to break bits off the end of it, “I’m fine. A bit concerned about Stormaway, though. Do you think Falling Rain might attack him when he realises what happened?”
Waterstone blinked at him, “I can’t see why you’re worried. Stormaway’s a wizard. He can just put up his shield. He’s hardly under any real threat.”
“But maybe I should insist that Stormaway accepts whatever Falling Rain dishes out. After all, his actions caused Falling Rain to be unjustly exiled for twelve years.” He glanced uncertainly at Waterstone, “On the other hand, I don’t think he should be punished for simply serving my father. What do you think?”
“If Stormaway had known Falling Rain had been exiled for betraying us, he would have told us that he’d used mind control on him, wouldn’t he?”
After a moment’s hesitation, the prince nodded.
“So it was just unfortunate that we kept him at arm’s length and didn’t tell him more about our affairs more than we had to.” Waterstone shrugged, “It’s going to be difficult for many of us. We all feel sorry that we exiled Falling Rain unjustly. He may never forgive us. Who knows?”
“So, have you decided how you’re going to trap him yet?”
“More or less.” Suddenly Waterstone grinned, “Is it taking you a lot of effort to stay out of it?”
Tarkyn laughed, “No. It would if I were inside listening to it all, but not out here. I don’t need to be involved in this at all, if you people want to meet Falling Rain on your own.”
“I think that he is so hard to access, hidden up in the trees above the swamp, that we were thinking of making use of Danton, Stormaway and you to levitate people to reach him.”
“Oh, were you indeed?” Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “Falling Rain is going to get the fright of his life having three sorcerers descend on him from on high.”
Waterstone smiled, “Maybe, but we figured he probably has sound traps set up that you can’t hear in your image. So if we try to climb through the trees to get to him, he’ll hear us coming long before we reach him.”
“You’re probably right. He’s bound to have some sort of warning system, isn’t he? … So we float in at him from three sides. How can you stop him flicking into hiding?”
“Hmm. I think we have your work cut out for you. You can throw your shield around him before he can disappear.” Waterstone stole another glance at Tarkyn to make sure he wasn’t feeling put upon.
“I think we should get Danton to do that,” said Tarkyn decisively.
“Why?”
“Well, Falling Rain is going to hate me because of my father and he’s going to hate Stormaway because he dragged the information out of him. So Danton is the least threatening of us who can maintain a shield.”
Waterstone thought for moment, “On the other hand, you could throw your shield over Falling Rain, Danton and one of us so we could talk.”
“Why don’t I just immobilise Falling Rain until you three woodfolk disembark. Then we sorcerers will retreat. That way he doesn’t have to deal with us close up until he’s used to the idea.”
“Yes, that seems like a good idea. And it would be better still, if you then put up your shield. Otherwise we’ll have to stand there holding him, to stop him from flicking into hiding. And you’re the only one who can use your shield while keeping him immobilised,” Waterstone gave a knowing little smile, “because Danton would have to place his shield around you and us, wouldn’t he?”
Tarkyn gave a wry smile, “You’re getting better at understanding our magic. Yes, you’re right. Danton couldn’t place a shield between Falling Rain and me while Falling Rain is under one of my spells.” He stood up and brushed the snow off the back of his wolfskin cloak. “Very well. Let’s do it that way. I suppose I can maintain my shield from a distance. You people will just have to calm him down. He’s going to get a fright however we do it.”
Chapter 60
The entire company stayed overnight in the cave and set off early the next morning. There had been a suggestion that only the rescue party needed to go, while the rest could stay in the warm cave and await their return. But without either Tarkyn there as pack leader or a constant shield over the woodfolk, the mountain lion presented too great a threat.
The sky was a cloudless blue overhead as they set out and it was not long before the snow turned to slush underfoot. Because they were in unknown territory, the woodfolk kept close together, with lookouts scanning each side, ahead and behind them. There were always two or three at the rear of the group modifying the woodfolk’s tracks when they had passed. In the slushy conditions their tracks couldn’t be obliterated completely but any clear footprints were blurred beyond recognition. Anyone coming afterwards would be able to see that a number of people or animals had passed through but would not be able to identify them.
On a clear day, the journey along the narrow path that led them down the next cliff face presented a grave threat. There were certain places where anyone looking up from the valley below would be able to see them. The woodfolk decided that from a distance, no one would know they weren’t sorcerers but they passed through these exposed sections in groups of two or three, with breaks of several minutes between them, so that the casual observer would not realise that a large group was moving down the mountainside.
Still, by the time they had reached the cover of the forests at the bottom of the mountain, the woodfolk were feeling that they had taken many unaccustomed risks in an area far too close to sorcerers for comfort. It was an anxious, muted group who finally set up camp deep in the forest, to the west of the swamp and south of the lake, just as the late afternoon sun was dipping below the trees. Despite the lateness of the hour, it was decided to try to make contact with Falling Rain straight away, in case he became aware of their presence so close to him. According to Running Feet and the trappers’ calculations, Falling Rain was only a mile away.
A huge debate had raged over who should be the first three woodfolk to go in with the sorcerers and talk to Falling Rain. It did not take long to decide that Summer Rain, his sister and Tree Wind, his erstwhile fiancée, should go. But there was considerable debate about the third person. It had to be someone who had clearly supported Falling Rain’s exile so that the woodman could be sure that it was a full revocation of his exile and not just his supporters trying to persuade him to return. In the end Waterstone was chosen because, at the time, he had been so angry and so ad
amant that Falling Rain should be exiled.
Summer Rain climbed onto Stormaway’s back, Tree Wind onto Danton’s and Waterstone onto Tarkyn’s. When everyone was secure, the three sorcerers rose gracefully from the ground with their woodfolk cargo. As they levitated straight up above the tree line, the woodfolk’s grips around the sorcerer’s necks and hips tightened.
“Oh my stars,” breathed Waterstone, peering down at the forest floor far below them. “I don’t know what made us think this was a good idea. This is terrifying. Are you sure you can keep holding us up? It’s an awfully long way down.”
Danton smiled across at him, “Don’t worry. We can keep this up for a while yet.”
“Speak for yourself!” exclaimed Stormaway. “I really am getting too old for this. I struggle to do this on my own without providing the power for two.”
Tarkyn eyed him for a minute, trying to gauge the seriousness of his remark. Eventually he said, “Stormaway, either I can give you some strength or Summer Rain can give you one of her restorative tonics, if you are struggling. Just tell me and it shall be done.”
The old wizard gave a gusty sigh. “I wasn’t looking for a remedy. I was looking for sympathy and encouragement.”
“Stop whingeing, you old windbag!” laughed Tree Wind. “I bet you’re loving this. You always like any sort of intrigue and adventure.”
“Yes, Stormaway,” said Danton firmly, “Stop whingeing or you’ll make Summer Rain feel unwelcome.”
Stormaway gave Summer Rain’s leg a little pat. “What nonsense! Summer Rain knows me better than that. But I do beg your pardon, Summer Rain. I would not like to give you the wrong impression. It is a pleasure to be of assistance to you.”
“Hmph. You just make sure, old man, that you can hold me up.” The humourless healer paused before adding gruffly, “And thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me.”
Sorcerers and woodfolk glided silently between the highest branches of the trees. As the inundated forest spread out before them, they could smell a soft dankness in the air, not unpleasant but quite different from the usual odours of the forest. Occasionally, they saw eddies or a little splash disturb the silky surface and once they saw the rippling V of a snake gliding through the water. Around them in the branches, they passed the odd grey heron perched in stately aloofness. Groups of white egrets clustered in the trees in increasing numbers as they moved further into the swamp. Now and then, a mosquito whined past their ears but the emanation from Summer Rain’s herbal ointments would make it shy off.
As the sorcerers and woodfolk drew nearer, they lapsed into silence, aware that their voices might betray their presence too soon. The three woodfolk had all seen the image of the egret’s journey and, with their ability to discern and remember minute differences in the forest vegetation, directed the sorcerers unerringly to Falling Rain’s hideout.
Leaving Danton, Stormaway and their passengers to wait a short distance from their destination, Tarkyn glided slowly above the trees, carefully keeping his levitation spell firmly to one side of his mind and watching intently for the instant that Falling Rain came into sight. Tarkyn had to immobilise the woodman first before Falling Rain saw him and flicked into hiding. Gradually Tarkyn and Waterstone became aware of the sound of soft, rhythmic beating and an egret flew slowly past them, eyeing Tarkyn suspiciously as she passed. The egret who, at her slowest, still travelled through the air much faster than Tarkyn, glided in a large circle in front of them before coming back to circle around them in a large figure of eight. Tarkyn’s mind was filled with a sharp query and a view of Falling Rain moving around his reed platform, intent on his preparations for his evening meal. A clear warning echoed through Tarkyn’s mind before he sent her a wave of reassurance. In response, she showed him other egrets gathered in nearby trees, watching.
Tarkyn transmitted this to the three woodfolk. Suggestions ranged back and forth amongst them but eventually Tarkyn sent the egret a message that, as soon as the sorcerers had dropped off the woodfolk, he would wait among the egrets to show them his good faith. The egret flapped past them once more but this time she flew further ahead, and then swooped back around to fly straight at Tarkyn, her long, sharp beak aimed right at his forehead. The forest guardian stared directly at her, sending out waves of friendship and keeping his course steady, although Waterstone could feel Tarkyn’s muscles tensing as she came nearer. At the last possible moment, she gave her wings a strong flap and lifted herself just high enough to skid over their heads, the feathers of her underbelly and the tips of her feet just brushing the top of Tarkyn and Waterstone’s hair.
“Whew,” breathed Tarkyn. “We have been warned. Your friend seems to have developed a following.”
Chapter 61
Falling Rain had cleaned a fish ready for his dinner. He had a particular area further up in the tree for cleaning and scaling so that the fishy mess did not spread around his small domain. Now he was cutting up a selection of marsh plants that he knew would complement the flavour of his bream. On the other side of the platform, hanging from the branch above, was a large iron pan that he used to contain his fire so that the reed platform did not catch alight. It was already set with dry reeds and twigs. An assortment of branches, broken into tidy lengths, was stacked neatly against the trunk of the tree.
The lone woodman let his gaze wander through the surrounding branches, watching the egrets settling for the night, ruffling their white feathers and sometimes swooping out to land in another tree. Tonight, they seemed more restless than usual and many of them had congregated in one particular tree. Sometimes this happened when a large hawk or eagle was soaring high in the air above them. Falling Rain tilted his head casually to survey the skies for an airborne predator. A wave of horror ran through him as his eyes met the intense amber eyes of a sorcerer who had suddenly come into view above his hideout. Never before had anyone breached the security of his isolated home. Before he could react, the sorcerer murmured something, and Falling Rain found himself unable to move. He felt his heart hammering in his chest and, with a sense of déjà vu, saw the sorcerer advancing on him.
Oh no, he thought,Not again. At least this time, I will know nothing to betray them with.
Unable to move anything but his eyes, he watched the sorcerer draw ever closer until he landed next to him on the platform. Only then did Falling Rain notice the woodman clinging to the sorcerer’s back. Without a word, the woodman climbed down and the sorcerer took off, gliding to the nearest tree to sit among the egrets who were watching the proceedings balefully.No wonder the egrets have been restless, thought Falling Rain as, unbeknownst to him, Tarkyn sent greetings to the egrets around him, which were received with a stiff acknowledgement.
A true sense of panic now gripped Falling Rain. He couldn’t move to escape and so was unable to fulfil his requirement to avoid woodfolk. Now he would stand condemned of betraying what little honour was left to him. Worse still, the woodman who had arrived was Waterstone, one of the strongest protectors of woodfolk values. The exiled woodman watched, helpless, as two more sorcerers descended, deposited woodfolk and left without speaking. He saw that as each sorcerer landed in a tree, the egrets around them rose into the air and flapped their way slowly over to land in the branches around the sorcerer with the amber eyes.
Just when Falling Rain thought it couldn’t get any worse, the air around him seemed to erupt into a golden brown haze. Suddenly he realised he could move again and immediately tried to flick into hiding. But instead of reappearing behind his shelter, Falling Rain thumped against the wall of the barrier and slid to the floor of the platform, still in view of the other woodfolk.
The sounds of ruffling feathers grew louder around the amber eyed sorcerer and Falling Rain saw him glance nervously sideways at a large white egret, only feet away from him.
Inside the shimmering dome, Tree Wind ran over to the fallen woodman and knelt down beside him, “Don’t, Falling Rain. You don’t have to avoid us.” She waved her arm, “An
d while this shield is in place, you can’t.”
Falling Rain sat up, his face suffused with chagrin and anger, and pushed her firmly away, “I have tried to leave but can’t. So, keep away from me. All three of you, stay over there.”
For a moment, Tree Wind’s face tightened and it looked as though she might protest but on balance, she decided to do as he asked, and retreated to stand beside Waterstone. Falling Rain stood up and ignoring them completely, gazed around the bronze dome that surrounded him. Once he had taken that in, he stared through the slanting shafts of late afternoon sunlight into the surrounding trees until he had spotted the three waiting sorcerers, before finally bringing his gaze to bear on the three woodfolk before him.
He crossed his arms and said quietly, “So, is it not enough that I am exiled? Do I now have to be imprisoned as well? What has changed that you feel you must do this to me?” As they all began to speak at once, he held up a hand to stop them. “And when did sorcerers become servants of the woodfolk? Last I heard, woodfolk treated everyone as equals.”
This last question so stunned his audience that they looked in shock at each other and for a moment, couldn’t answer. Eventually Waterstone cleared his throat and said, “It is not as it seems. These sorcerers are working with us, not for us. They would be here by our sides talking with you too, but we did not want to alarm you any more than we had to.” He turned and pointed at the source of the shield, “I don’t know if you recognise him, but that is Prince Tarkyn over there, grown to manhood and returned to claim our allegiance.” He indicated the other two in turn, “Over there is his friend Lord Danton, who is…” Waterstone broke off with a little smile, “Well, you will meet him later and decide for yourself, but I like him. And over there is Stormaway Treemaster, creator of the oath and, ever since the death of King Markazon eleven years ago, Prince Tarkyn’s loyal retainer.”