The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (23 page)

“Please rise,” said Tarkyn quietly. “Would you mind leaving the niceties of introduction until I have attended to your children? I understand their situation is grave.”

The lord and lady rose and nodded in dumbstruck agreement. Tarkyn turned to the healer. “Who first?”

“The boy, my lord,” said the healer who, not knowing who he was, was less overawed. “He’s bleeding to death. It may already be too late.”

Tarkyn nodded and knelt down beside the injured boy. He focused on the boy’s leg, relaying the details to Summer Rain. After a short, visual conference, Tarkyn closed his eyes and placed his hands on the young man’s shoulder. He sent his strength down through the boy’s body until he came to the damaged leg. He flowed in and around the torn blood vessels and wove their fabric back together as best as he could with the jagged bone ends still sitting in amongst them. He stayed inside the young man giving him enough strength to renew his blood supply. Then when he was sure the boy was strong enough to survive, he pulled slowly out and came to himself kneeling in the lounge room of the farmhouse.

“The boy will live,” he declared flatly, taking a few deep breaths to restore his own strength. “We will mend his leg after I have seen to your daughter.”

Without waiting for their response, he moved to the side of the young woman lying on the couch. Her face was now flushed with fever and when he pulled back the blanket, it was soaked with perspiration. He could see that the wound had already festered. He focused on it and waited for Summer Rain’s response. After a few moments, he turned to the healer and asked, “Do you know of a herb that has small yellow and blue flowers in summer and red berries in the autumn?”

The healer nodded. “Yes. It is called the mountain sunrise. I did not know it had any healing properties. The berries on it are poisonous. Are you sure you have the right one?”

“Bring some to me and I will check.”

As the healer hurried out into the front garden, Tarkyn turned his attention to the young woman before him. He placed his hand on her shoulder, well away from the wound and sent his mind and life force down through his hands into her damaged shoulder. The muscles had been ripped mercilessly apart by the arrow’s thrust. The edge of her lung had been nicked and although she was not drowning in her own blood as Tarkyn once had been, the blood was slowly seeping into the surrounding tissues and clogging her breathing. Within the wound were traces of dirt and some substance that Tarkyn suspected was a poison. He tuned his mind and sent images back to Summer Rain. She merely visualised him repairing the tearing so he followed her instructions and did so. He wove shut the cut on the side of her lung and gradually drew the fibres of her muscles together and provided the healing force for them to knit. Then he flowed through her blood stream searching for the bacteria that were taking her over. He didn’t really know what he was looking for so, in the end, he used the techniques he had used on Rushwind’s infestation and projected a sharp wave of anger through her. Somewhere outside, she cried out as it burnt through her and for a moment, he was aware of a struggle before the sound faded away. Tarkyn soothed her bloodstream and left her with enoug
h
ess
e
to repair and recover.

When he withdrew, Tarkyn found himself next to Danton, surrounded by Danton’s aqua shield. On the outside of the shield was a ring of angry sorcerers, frustrated in their attempts to attack Tarkyn and rescue the daughter of the house. Tarkyn smiled at Danton and ran his hand through his hair.

“Thank you my friend, for minding my back. It’s a dangerous game, this healing.” Tarkyn ignored the sorcerers standing on the outside of the shield. “We’ll just sit here quietly until she comes round.” He nodded over at the young man. “I think he’s beginning to come to already. Not really what I would prefer. We have yet to repair his leg. It will hurt him a lot less if he’s out to it.” He shrugged and directed a smile at the father, “Still, you can’t blame anxious parents for over-reacting. It was a remarkable leap of faith for them to let me anywhere near their children in the first place.”

Behind him, the young woman moaned and fluttered her eyelids. Slowly she opened her eyes and gazed up at Tarkyn. A small frown of puzzlement appeared on her forehead and a smile played around the corners of her mouth. “I know you, don’t I? But I’ve never met you. How strange.”

“I came into you to repair you. I expect your mind knew I was there, even if you were unconscious.”

She gazed around her. “Why are we within someone’s shield? Are we under attack?”

Tarkyn gave a short laugh. “No. You are not under attack. I am. Someone did attack you and send an arrow into you earlier today but you are safe now.”

In response to a nudge from Danton, Tarkyn turned around and discovered that the pendulum had swung once more and all the sorcerers outside the shield were now on their knees bowing in supplication and apology. Tarkyn sent Danton a dry look and stood up. He put his hands on his hips and made them wait a considerable time before saying, “Provided you do not intend to continue your attack on me, you may rise. However, should any of you lay hand on me, I will have you summarily executed. Do I make myself clear?”

With murmurs of, “Yes Your Highness,” the lord, his lady and their liegemen rose to their feet, shaken and contrite. It did not seem to occur to any of them to query how he might have them executed. His manner brooked no doubt and, as Danton thought to himself, Tarkyn actually meant it or he wouldn’t have said it.

“You may remove your shield, Lord Danton. Thank you for your assistance. Now, I believe introductions are in order.” Tarkyn paused then said, “I am Tarkyn Tamadil, Prince of Eskuzor and Guardian of these Forests.” He indicated Danton. “My friend, Danton Patronell, Lord of Sachmore.” He nodded permission for the lord to speak.

The lord and lady bowed very low. “Your Highness, I am Tolward, Lord of Middle Grasslands and this is Lady Juniper, my wife. My daughter, Edelweiss, you have already met and Winguard my son.”

“And your liegemen?”

The lord barely masked his look of surprise as he went on to introduce all the members of his holding. Lastly he came to the healer whom he introduced as Karlian.

“So Karlian, do you have my herb for me?” asked Tarkyn.

Karlian curtsied and held out the prescribed herb, “Yes my lord.”

“Thank you.” Tarkyn stood still for a moment and focused on the herb, sending the image to Summer Rain. Then he looked up and smiled, “This is the correct herb. It needs to be boiled until it softens. Then make a paste with it and place it on Edelweiss’ wound. It will draw out the poison that was on the arrow tip.”

“Certainly, my lord.”

As the healer turned to leave, Tarkyn called her back, “Perhaps someone else can boil it up for you. I will need your assistance with young Winguard here.”

Tarkyn knelt down next to the young man, ignoring the fact that every set of eyes in the room were trained on his every movement. He watched as the young man gradually became aware of his surroundings and then focused in on the prince.

Winguard frowned and said coldly, “I know who you are. You’re the Rogue Prince. Stay away from me.” He lifted a feeble hand to push the prince away. Tarkyn leaned away from him until his arm dropped and then leaned back in. Winguard shook his head to clear it but only succeeded in feeling more bewildered. “But you’re not a rogue, are you? I know you. You’ve met with me inside me, haven’t you?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I must be going mad. How can that happen? And if you’re who I met inside, you’re nothing like you’re supposed to be.” Winguard looked around at the people gathered there, with a hint of panic in his eyes. “Father, say something. Tell me what’s happening.”

His father came and knelt next to Tarkyn, “Winguard my son, this is indeed Prince Tarkyn but as you have rightly said, he is nothing like his reputation.” He shook his head, “I don’t know how he did it, but he saved you from bleeding to death and saved your sister from the infection of the arrow.”

“Winguard,” Tarkyn waited until the young man’s eyes had returned to rest on him. “I have a gift for healing. I take my strength inside you and work with you to repair yourself. So you are right. I was inside you. You are not going mad.”

“So am I better now?”

Tarkyn shook his head regretfully. “No, I’m afraid not. Not yet. We must still repair your leg. And this will hurt. I can give you two choices; either stay awake and bite down hard on something, or take a sedative of some kind to send you back to sleep while we put your leg back in place.”

Winguard glanced uncertainly at his father. “I think I should stay awake.”

Lord Tolward looked at Tarkyn in query, not rushing to accept his son’s offer of courage. Tarkyn shook his head and said, “I don’t know which is better. I have the power of healing but I’m a little short on knowledge. Just let me confer with Karlian first. Karlian, what is your opinion? Asleep or awake? And do you have the right herbs or will I find them for you?”

Karlian frowned, “Your highness, you are a strange mixture of knowledge and ignorance if you don’t mind me saying so. How can you be so sure about mountain sunrise herb if you don’t know something as basic as this?”

Tarkyn glanced over at Danton, “Has something about me changed? Why are people so presumptuous around me these days?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” said Karlian hastily. “I am sorry if I offended you.”

“So you should be, Karlian. I may be a combination of skill and ignorance but I am very clear where my limits are and I would not tell you something were so, unless I knew it to be true.” The prince frowned at Karlian, “Now, is it too much to ask that you answer my question?”

“No, no, of course not, Your Highness. There would be a much better chance of putting the bone back in place if Winguard were asleep. I believe I can prepare something but it will take some time.”

Tarkyn screwed his face up as he considered. “No. We cannot stay too long. Just a minute. I’ll think about it.” He closed his eyes and conferred with Summer Rain who sent back the image of a slingshot. Tarkyn spluttered with laughter. He opened his eyes to find himself the focus of several disapproving looks. “Sorry. It’s not a laughing matter, I know. But you will understand better when you see my solution.” He stood up and walked to the corner of the room, “A word, Danton.”

Danton followed him and Tarkyn whispered Summer Rain’s suggestion. “Have you got one with you?” he asked more loudly.

Danton frowned, “Yes, but I’m not as good at this as some.”

Tarkyn chortled quietly. “We could ask everyone to leave the room and then open the window.”

“Tarkyn, this is getting silly. And Winguard would have to make sure he shut his eyes.”

“Fine,” said Tarkyn in a louder voice, “You go outside and see what you can find, while I talk to Winguard about what will happen.”

Tarkyn returned to kneel on the floor next to the young man. “Winguard, I appreciate your offer of staying awake when you know it will hurt but I think the accepted wisdom is that we will be able to move your broken leg around better if you are not awake to resist it. Now in a minute when Danton returns, I will ask everyone to leave the room and you to close your eyes. Then we will put you to sleep using a little magic that will be quicker than waiting for Karlian’s concoction. Are you happy with that? Then hopefully when you wake up next time, your leg will on its way to being mended.”

Winguard nodded, “Thank you Your Highness, for all you are doing for me.”

Tarkyn looked at him for a moment wondering how he could turn it to his advantage but in the end, he merely replied, “It is a pleasure. I am glad I happened to be here so that I could help.”

Danton returned and ushered everyone out into the hallway. “Won’t be long. Whatever you do, don’t open this door until I say so. Clear?”

Although they were puzzled, the sorcerers agreed readily enough. Danton closed the door on them and put a chair up against it in case someone became curious. Then he crossed to the window and opened it. “Ready?” he asked.

Tarkyn gazed at Winguard. “Now close your eyes and keep them shut. Your life depends on it. Can you do that?”

As Winguard closed his eyes, Waterstone appeared at the window and shot him neatly in the head. In an instant the woodman was gone and Danton crossed to the door and opened it.

“Right! Everyone back in who’s coming in.”

Tarkyn had taken the opportunity to confer with Summer Rain and now knew what to do to repair Winguard’s leg. “Kalian, Winguard has been shot with a slingshot and will remain unconscious for perhaps twenty minutes.” Tarkyn put up a hand to quell the murmurs that greeted this. “So we need you and at least two strong men to manoeuvre Winguard’s bone into place. Don’t be afraid to pull hard. It will take some strength to pull against his muscles but you will meet less resistance now that he is unconscious. I am going into him to make sure you have it lined up properly. When it is in place, I will raise my hand like this, and then I want you to hold it steady until I say to stop.” He glanced around. “Everybody clear?”

Winguard’s father and another man came over to assist while Danton remained aloof so that he could keep guard. When everyone was ready, Tarkyn placed his hand on Winguard’s shoulder and followed his power into the young man’s body. He flowed down into Winguard’s leg and
watched as the two ends of bone wove back and forth past each other until they finally came to rest more or less in place. Tarkyn struggled to reconnect quickly with his own body in time to hold his hand up. Once he had succeeded, he let go and returned to begin the repair work on Winguard’s severed bone. The process of knitting such a large bone was slow and difficult so that after what seemed a long time, he had only just created a tenuous link between the two edges. He transferred his attention to the stressed, battered muscles and at least made some notable progress with them. He sent a short zap of anger into the knitting bone to ward off infection and closed off the gash that had allowed the bone to poke through. He realised that they needed time to bind up Winguard’s leg before he came round. So then he withdrew and returned to his own body.