The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (50 page)

String looked strained, as though he was on the verge of panic again, “What if I want to go off for a walk on my own or just with Bean?  I can’t last too long around a lot of people, you know.”

“As long as you stay within view of our lookouts, you’ll be okay. That gives you a fair degree of latitude,” said Thunder Storm. “We’ll show you the sort of area that covers. If you look as though you’re going too far away, the lookout will send a warning arrow into a tree next to you.”

String took a deep breath and then another, but failed to calm himself. “Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! I can’t manage this. I have to go. Out of my way!” String jumped up and rushed out of the cave into the pouring rain.

Bean sat calmly, watching him go. “Don’t worry. He’ll be back. It’s too wet out there for one thing and he’s left his pack behind.” He transferred his gaze to Midnight and tapped him on the head to gain his attention, “Hey little one, How’s the beard going?” He tapped on his beard to explain what he was saying.

With a smile, Midnight held up half of the beard, which had been neatly plaited into four braids. Bean held up a thumb to show he liked it. Midnight smiled and began work on the second half.

“At least we’ll see more of Midnight,” said Bean, “Though to be honest, he’s probably easier to take in small doses.” He looked around at the woodfolk, “Thank you for advocating on our behalf. And have you decided which of your groups we will reside with? I gather there is more than one.”

“We are the forest guardian’s home guard,” said Rainstorm with a touch of pride. “We are on the move, whereas the mountainfolk, who are Hail’s people, will stay here. Personally, I suspect they would make your life difficult.”

“I think you are right,” agreed Tree Wind. “They are not used to sorcerers as we are and they will be filled with horror at Hail’s fate at the hands of a sorcerer.”

“So we suggest that you throw in your lot with us,” rumbled Thunder Storm, adding with a twinkle, “We’ll try not to crowd you in too much.”

Suddenly Bean beamed, “I think it’s marvellous that we can stay with you for a while. We can learn so much from you and, you never know, you may learn a thing or two from us.”

“So you’re not worried about needing to be off on your own?” asked Tarkyn.

Bean waved his hand airily, “No, not at the moment. I suspect there may be times further down the track when it grates with me. But worry about that when it happens. Right now, I’m happy to stay alive and to have the pleasure of getting to know you after all these years of carefully avoiding you.”

Just then String erupted through the doorway dripping wet, and demanded, “So, do you have lookouts out there already?”

“Always,” replied Waterstone.

“And did they already know about the warning shot if we go too far?”

Waterstone nodded.

String breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. “Oh, well, that’s all right then. No one shot at me. So it must be a reasonable area to move around in.” He looked around expectantly, “So, whose turn is it to make the next cup of tea?”

Part 8: The Curse

Chapter
39

By mid-afternoon, the storm had cleared, leaving the forest glistening and damp, mud and puddles underfoot. As they prepared to leave, String asked casually where they were going and was horrified to discover that they were heading up into the mountains.

“We’ve only just come down from there. What about our furs? We haven’t even had time to take them into a settlement and sell them.”

“And you’re leaving it a bit late, you know,” added Bean whose beard was now neatly plaited into eight thin braids. “The weather’s starting to close in. If you thought that storm was bad this morning, wait until you’re in one full of sleet and snow,”

“All the more reason to set off quickly,” said Waterstone firmly. “We can organise to sell your furs for you, if you would like us to. Where are they?”

The trappers looked at each other and then at Waterstone. Bean nearly spoke but thought better of it and turned to String again. A strange silent conversation ensued where they nodded and grimaced queries and uncertainties at each other.

Eventually, Waterstone lost patience with them and turned on his heel to walk away, “Let me know what you decide. It makes no difference to me but might make a lot to you, if your furs are spoiled by the time you come back.”

Tarkyn strolled up and said to the two trappers, “You’ve offended him, you know. Waterstone is the most trustworthy person I have ever met.” He paused, “And you might like to remember that, as far as you’re concerned, both Ancient Oak and he are princes, just as I am.”

Faced with that reminder, the two trappers scrambled to their feet and bowed.

“I beg your pardon, Sire,” said Bean. “I’m afraid we are rather out of practice with social niceties.” As Tarkyn turned to walk away, Bean rolled his eyes at String and said sotto voce, “Being stuck with woodfolk is one thing. Being stuck with court etiquette is quite another. This six months could turn out to be quite a trial.”

Tarkyn swung back around and glared at him, “I do not appreciate snide remarks behind my back. You will find that I do not, in fact, expect all the etiquette of court but I do expect respect, both for myself and for everyone else. I suggest you speak to Danton about my expectations. If, after that, you are still dissatisfied, then speak to me about it. But whatever you do, do not complain about me behind my back. Clear?”

Bean glanced at String then nodded. After a slight pause, he asked, “And will we find that your expectations include us enduring tongue-lashings from you, as the mood takes you?”

Tarkyn put his hands on his hips and shook his head in amazement, “These forests seem to breed an excessively independent attitude, whether you be woodfolk or sorcerer. And to answer your question, yes. If I choose to take you to task, you will have to endure it but I will give you right of reply, which is more than you would be given at court.”

The trappers exchanged glances. “Seems fair,” said String. “Now, before you go, would you mind telling us who this forest guardian is? Rainstorm mentioned that they were the home guard for him…”

“Could be a her, String.”

“Yes, could be… and we can’t figure out who or what it is.”

Despite his previous displeasure, Tarkyn grinned and gave a slight bow, “Look no further. You see him before you. I am the Guardian of the Forest.”

String’s brow wrinkled, “So, is it just a courtesy title instead of prince?”

The prince shook his head, “No. It is far more than that.”   He stopped short as he remembered what Danton’s reaction had been; that Tarkyn was either unhinged or conning the woodfolk. He eyed the two trappers, “You don’t know much about me but two things you have hopefully learnt by now; I am honest and straightforward and I am not mad.”

String and Bean thought for a moment before nodding.

“I would agree with that,” said Bean. “So, your point?”

Tarkyn took a deep breath and smiled self-consciously, “The guardian of the forest is a figure of woodfolk legend who appears among them every four or five hundred years to support them through a time of serious strife. The guardian is a person with magical power who can be recognised because of his or her particular abilities.”

“Which are…?” asked String.

“The ability to heal and promote growth, and the ability to communicate with animals.”

Bean’s eyes grew round. “Can you do that?”

Tarkyn nodded, smiling. “I use that ability to talk to Midnight. That’s why only I can talk to him.”

Bean frowned repressively, “He is not an animal.”

“No, of course he’s not. But I can exchange images and feelings with him, just as I can with animals and with all woodfolk, for that matter.”

“Not words?” asked String.

“No, not words. I wish I could, but only woodfolk can use words.”

“So, it is as we thought,” said Bean slowly. “Although you tell us you are woodfolk, you do not have their abilities and do not look like them. And obviously you belong to the highest sorcerer family in the land. So…?”

“So, I have been inaugurated into the woodfolk nation as a member of Waterstone’s family because I have demonstrated my dedication to upholding my oath to them.” Tarkyn unconsciously drew himself up, “I am very proud to have been accorded that honour. I am the first outsider ever to have been accepted as one of them.”

Bean whistled, “That is impressive. And what did you do that impressed them so much?”

Tarkyn waved a dismissive hand, “I think I have done quite enough of blowing my own trumpet. You will have to go elsewhere for that information.”

“He gave us the chance to kill him so that our kin could be released from the oath and woodfolk unity could be preserved,” said Rainstorm, coming up behind him.

The two trappers stared at Tarkyn who suddenly felt as though he had grown two heads. He couldn’t meet their eyes and after an embarrassed moment, muttered, “I had better go and see what Midnight is up to.” With that, Tarkyn wheeled around and strode off.

Bean put his hands on his hips as he watched the prince walk off into the middle distance. “He’s amazing, isn’t he? At the start of this conversation, I was resenting having to put the effort into standing up and bowing to him. But I’m beginning to realise that he is far more impressive than he comes across at first meeting. Compared to his worth, he is quite modest in his demand for recognition, isn’t he?”

“And Danton thinks Tarkyn is the only person who provides any hope for the future of Eskuzor,” added North Wind entering the conversation at this point. “So in time he may become a legend for you sorcerers as well.”

“And you haven’t heard anything yet,” responded Rainstorm with some pride. “Wait ’til I tell you about him rescuing our woodfolk from the sorcerers, saving the forest from the sickness, healing the sorcerer’s children and best of all, persuading the mountain eagles to come to his rescue. Tarkyn is already a walking legend for what he has done, as much as for being our forest guardian.” The young woodman shrugged and added casually, “Doesn’t mean I’d bow to him or do what he says, necessarily. There are limits, but…”

“…. in reality, you would cut off your right arm for him,” finished North Wind for him. “And so would I,” he added before Rainstorm had time to react. “With or without the oath.”

After a slight hesitation, Rainstorm grinned and nodded, “True. Yes, I would.”

Chapter
40

As Tarkyn walked past Sparrow who was using some sticks to build a miniature shelter, he noticed her glance up at him and then look quickly back down at what she was doing. He stopped dead and squatted down beside her on the muddy ground, privately ruing the state of his mud-splattered leggings.

“Hello, young one,” he said. “Am I wrong, or are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” said Sparrow aloofly, keeping her attention fixed firmly on what she was doing. “I haven’t seen you enough to have anything to get mad about.”

“Sparrow, look at me.” When the little girl reluctantly raised her eyes, Tarkyn continued, “Have I been neglecting you since Midnight arrived?”

Sparrow shrugged, “You don’t have to play with me if you don’t want to. You’re not my dad.”

“I am your friend though, and your uncle. And I like doing things with you. Midnight can’t replace you, you know. He’s his own person, just as you are.”

Sparrow sniffed, “At least I can talk.”

For a moment Tarkyn’s eyes narrowed but he merely said, “Yes, that’s handy isn’t it? I can talk to you about lots of things that I can’t talk to Midnight about. And it makes it so much easier for you to do things with your friends, doesn’t it?”

Although nothing in Tarkyn’s tone gave away that he didn’t like what she had said, Sparrow’s face reddened “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was mean.”

Tarkyn smiled and ruffled her hair, “It was a bit, wasn’t it? But also true. And unlike some of the mountainfolk, you haven’t been mean to him. In fact, you have helped me by including him in the mock battle and playing in the slingshot tournament with him.” He grinned, “And let’s face it, he’s not the easiest character in the world to get on with.”

A slow smile dawned on Sparrow’s face. “No, he’s a bit tricky. He’s very shy, you know. The only time he’s played with more than one person is when you were there.” She hesitated, “Dad says Midnight’s had a hard life.” There was a long pause while she finished off her little shelter. Finally she looked up at Tarkyn and took a deep breath, “But I have too. I lost my mum. So why is it okay for Midnight to be so naughty and run away all the time? And he put you in danger and I don’t want to lose you too.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, so I promise I will be careful. Come here,” He twisted around to sit on a damp log with a mental apology to his leggings and swung Sparrow onto his lap. “You have had a hard time losing your mum. But you know, you have always had Waterstone who must be the best dad in the world.” Sparrow nodded briefly as though this was obvious, “And you have Autumn Leaves, and Ancient Oak and Thunder Storm and Creaking Bough and all the other kids….Midnight has had no one. He has never had a dad, his mother hated him and the only people he ever saw in his life who liked him were String and Bean, and he only saw them once every few months.” He considered Sparrow for a minute before saying, “His mother used to beat him all the time, you know, when he wouldn’t do what he was told, even if it was because he didn’t understand.”

Sparrow drew in a shocked breath, “That’s awful. No wonder he runs away all the time.”

Tarkyn nodded, “He gets frightened. We’re just lucky he doesn’t react by lashing out at everyone.”

“He attacked Rainstorm and Thunder Storm, though.”

Tarkyn chuckled, “Yes, he’s a feisty little thing, isn’t he? He attacked Rainstorm for saying something mean about me, and Thunder Storm to protect Autumn Leaves. Both times he was protecting someone. It wasn’t rage or fear. When he’s scared, he runs.”

“Is it true that his dad was a sorcerer?”

“A wizard, no less. That’s a sorcerer who has learnt a lot about magic.”

Sparrow looked up at Tarkyn, “So, does that mean Midnight can do magic too, like you can?”

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Do you know, I hadn’t even thought of that. That’s a very interesting question.” He smiled. “I’ll have to see whether I can teach him some. He can’t say incantations so that will limit him a bit, but maybe thinking them might be enough. I don’t really know. You can help me, if you like. What do you think?”

Sparrow nodded enthusiastically, “That would be fun, as long as he doesn’t use his magic to run away or to hurt anyone.”

“Yes, good point. I’ll have to sort that out with him first. I wish Stormaway were here. He’s the expert on magic.
”
And he would know what that curse mean
t
, Tarkyn added to himself.

“Wish no longer, sire. I am here.”

Tarkyn’s head whipped around to find Stormaway Treemaster, dressed once more in his everyday green forest attire, producing a low florid bow. The old wizard straightened up and smiled, “I am pleased to see you, Your Highness. I hear you have acquitted yourself well, both with Lord Tolward and his family, and with the mountainfolk. Lord of the Eagles, no less. Most impressive.”

Ignoring the inaccuracy about the eagles, Tarkyn swung Sparrow off his lap and stood up to grasp Stormaway in a bear hug. After a slight hesitation, Stormaway returned his embrace.

“I am so pleased to see you, Stormaway. There have been times when I sorely needed you. I have missed you on this journey and I thought that we would be going over the mountains without you.”

When they drew apart, Stormaway was a little flustered but did his best to cover it up.

“Hurumph. Well, here I am now. I do not like to begin our renewed acquaintance with a rebuke but I am not at all sure how seemly these public displays of affection are, my lord.”

Tarkyn laughed, not at all fazed by the wizard’s response, “Stormaway, you told me yourself that, within the forest, my word is law. So it is up to me, is it not?”

The wizard, having recovered his equilibrium, gave a slight bow, “It is indeed, Sire, and I would thank you for your warm welcome.” His eyes dropped to Sparrow, “And how are you, young lady? And how is your Dad?”