The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) (73 page)

The woodman went very still. Only his eyes moved, swivelling to focus in on Stormaway sitting in his green robes high in the branches of a willow. As they watched, his eyes grew dark with anger. “How could he let you think, let me think that I had betrayed everyone? All these years, I have hated myself for betraying you all. I thought the sickness must have weakened my resistance and I have cursed my feebleness and lack of will power.”

“There is no way you could have resisted a strong wizard’s mind control, especially in your weakened state,” stated Summer Rain flatly.

“And so, knowing this, we absolve you of responsibility for the sorcerers finding us,” said Waterstone, “Your honour and your place among woodfolk is restored.”

Falling Rain glanced at Waterstone, his mind a turmoil of anger and regret. “I should hate you for the way you treated me and doubted me. And yet I can’t, because I did the same to myself.” He turned his frustrated anger to stare at Stormaway, “How could he stand by, watch me be sent into exile and do nothing?”

Tree Wind walked to him and put her hand on his arm. “He didn’t know, Falling Rain. No one included him in any woodfolk business. We endured his presence because of the oath but it took us a long while even to speak to him, and nearly two years before we started using him to trade goods for us with outsiders.”

Falling Rain stared at her, “You trade goods with outsiders? What is the world coming to?” He shook his head, “Why don’t you just shout your presence from the treetops?”

Waterstone and Summer Rain glanced at each other but made no comment. Tree Wind kept her hand on the exiled woodman’s arm and said quietly, “No one in the outside world knows from where the goods originate. Outsiders think the goods come from the other end of the kingdom or from over the seas.”

Falling Rain digested this, clearly still not satisfied. After a moment, he changed the subject, “And so how do you come to have three sorcerers with you? Two, I can understand. You are forced to endure Stormaway Treemaster and Prince Tarkyn. But what about the third one? That Lord Anton or whatever you called him.”

Waterstone smiled, “Hmm. Interesting question.  Even more interesting answer. You might suspect that Prince Tarkyn had ordered us to accept his friend but that would be far from the truth. In fact, the prince is officially a woodman now and is bound by the same oath of secrecy as you or I….more or less. Although he doesn’t seem to include himself in that, I notice.”

Falling Rain scowled, “Well, that’s a contradiction straight away. He can’t be a woodman and reveal himself to the outside world.” He shrugged, “Anyway, you’re all talking nonsense. It’s as clear as the nose on my face that he’s a sorcerer. Looks like one. Comes from a sorcerer family. Can’t be both. It’s mutually exclusive. End of discussion.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, Danton is here because we reached a community decision to allow him to stay with us.”

“Why?” demanded the woodman belligerently.

“To help us to rescue three woodfolk who had been captured by sorcerers,” explained Tree Wind patiently. She sighed, “Falling Rain, it’s a long, complicated story. We have a lot to tell you. Do you think we could leave it ’til later? Right now, all we want to do is ask you to return with us. We have travelled for many weeks to find you and we just want to take you home.” She sniffed, determined not to cry while Falling Rain kept her at arm’s length.

Suddenly, Falling Rain focused in on her and studied her face, the bright intelligent eyes and the determined mouth that transformed her face when she smiled. He lifted his hand and gently brushed a wisp of hair off her face.

“Hello, Tree Wind,” he said, as though seeing her for the first time. All the anger fell from him and he smiled gently, “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

Tree Wind nodded vigorously, the tears now falling, “Oh yes, I do.”

The woodman pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head and then as she raised her face, their lips met. As they kissed, all the world and all the years disappeared. When they broke apart, they were smiling and Tree Wind was misty eyed. Falling Rain pulled gently away from her and walked over to encase his sister in a great bear hug.

“Summer Rain, I have missed you too.” He pulled back and looked her in the face with a little smile, “And there have been times when I have sorely missed your potions, vile though they are.”

Summer Rain studied him critically, “You look healthy enough now. You must have been looking after yourself. I am glad to see you, my brother. I fought long and hard to have you restored to us.” She waved her hand, “But in the end, when everyone realised what had happened, there was no opposition at all. Everyone wants you to come back.” She hugged him again, “I am so glad you are safe.” Then she pushed herself away with a final pat on his back.

Waterstone straightened up from watching the egret, came over to him and looked him straight in the eye. Falling Rain’s face was tight, knowing he was facing his severest critic but also one of his closest friends. “Falling Rain, I too want you to come back with us. I am so sorry that you were forced unjustly to spend all these years alone. Whatever we can do to make reparation, we will.” He clapped his hand awkwardly on Falling Rain’s shoulder, “It is good to see you, my friend.” A moment later, he grabbed Falling Rain and dragged him into a hug. “Oh Falling Rain, I am so glad you are all right.”

When they separated, Falling Rain was looking puzzled, “It’s very strange,” he said slowly. “I keep getting these feelings, almost in waves, of relief and warmth and friendliness and welcome. One after the other. It is more or less how I am feeling but not quite. It’s very strange.”

Waterstone laughed, “That sounds like Tarkyn up to tricks, if you ask me. He is not like other sorcerers. He can communicate mentally. But he uses feelings and images, not words like us. And sometimes he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He’s a funny character.”

“He sounds a bit lightweight to be a prince after what I learned to expect from that fearsome Markazon,” said Falling Rain uncertainly.

Summer Rain frowned sternly, “Never make the mistake of underestimating that young man. He may say some odd things at times…”

Tree Wind whispered, “Summer Rain means that he has a sense of humour.”

“
Bu
t
he is possibly the most powerful sorcerer in Eskuzor and without a doubt, the bravest, when courage is needed to protect us.” She stared at her brother, daring him to contradict her. “He is also a forest guardian, the first of his kind for over four hundred years.”

“Is he? That’s interesting.” Falling Rain stared across the stretch of water at the distant figure of Tarkyn sitting among the herons. “So that’s why the egret did as he asked and that’s how he could talk with them. I was wondering about that. And even though he’s a forest guardian, they still made sure I was protected.” He gave a little smile, “I feel even more honoured to have been protected by them, in that case. I must say I will miss them… and the little bats that flit past at dusk. And there’s a small tree mouse that comes in and shares snacks with me from time to time. I shall miss them all.” He brought his gaze back to bear on the three woodfolk, “But not as much as I have missed all of you.”

Chapter
62

“I think you should be very careful, my lord,” said Stormaway quietly as he poked around the reed platform until he spotted the small stump that had been used by Falling Rain as a table. He brought it around to the front of the shelter, wiped it off and offered it to the prince first, waiting for a refusal before sitting down on it himself. “The pendulum is swinging too far the other way”

“I’m inclined to agree, Tarkyn,” said Danton, lounging against the trunk of the huge river gum in which Falling Rain had made his home. The woodfolk had waved a cheery farewell and had flitted off through the trees back towards the campsite, full of interest at the sights and improvisations that Falling Rain was showing them along the way.

Tarkyn sat with his legs dangling over the side of the platform, the white egret still standing near him. The prince swivelled his head to look at them over his shoulder, “Why?”

“Could you hear what they were saying?” asked Danton.

Tarkyn shook his head, “Not in amongst all those egrets.”

“Well I could. Their voices carried clearly across the water.” Danton raised his eyebrows in derision, “Do you realise that Falling Rain thought we were the woodfolk’s servants at the start?”

A jab of outrage hit the two sorcerers, “And how did our woodfolk respond?” Tarkyn asked tightly.

Danton shrugged, “In fairness, Waterstone was quick to explain that we were working with them not for them.”

“But perhaps that is the impression you are giving, Your Highness. Otherwise, it would not have crossed his mind.” Stormaway leaned forward to press his point, “If an outsider views you in that way, it provides you with an objective view of the situation.”

“Hmm,” Tarkyn stared down into the dark, murky waters that flowed, glinting in the early starlight, beneath the platform. “Anything else?”

Danton glanced at the prince, “Waterstone said you were a funny character – he was talking about your style of communication at the time… and Falling Rain said you sounded like a bit of a lightweight.”

Tarkyn drew his long legs up and swivelled around to sit cross-legged facing the other two. “And was this allowed to pass unchallenged?”

Danton smiled and shook his head, “Oh no, not at all. Summer Rain waded in boots and all, to give you a glowing testimonial.”

“So it is only Falling Rain’s impressions that are the issue here.  Is that right?”

“Not entirely,” said Stormaway. “He gained his impressions from the way you and the woodfolk behaved towards each other and the way the woodfolk spoke about you. And consider this, Your Highness. They left without even introducing Falling Rain to you, even though he was no longer afraid. I personally do not find that acceptable.”

“And you, Danton? What do you think?”

Danton shrugged, “I can understand why it happened. They were excited and keen to explore Falling Rain’s domain before it got too dark – And they wanted to rush back to the others. But to be honest, I felt a little chagrin on my own account, let alone yours. So, even making allowances for differences in culture, I think it was disrespectful.” He gave a rueful smile, “Well, to be perfectly honest, I thought it was outrageous.”

“And it comes hard on the heels of releasing the forest’s tie to the oath,” said Stormaway ruminatively.

“I trust their honour,” said Tarkyn tightly.

“Maybe so,” Danton pushed himself upright and came to sit near the prince, “But you allowed them a lot of leeway the other morning to comment on your demeanour and they used it in full measure to criticise you. If you are not careful, you will have no weapons left at your disposal to maintain your status.” He shrugged, “Perhaps that is what you want, but you have never given me the impression that you wanted to lose all your authority.”

Tarkyn gazed thoughtfully at him, “No. I do not.”

“I think the tightrope you walk by maintaining friendships with your subjects is fraying, Your Highness.” As Tarkyn frowned, Stormaway put up his hand, “It hasn’t broken yet, but it needs attention.”

It was an indication of Tarkyn’s own level of misgiving that he had not taken umbrage at anything his advisers had said.

“Blast it!” he exclaimed quietly, angry as much at himself as at the woodfolk. “Blast! Blast! Blast! This is going to be so hard to pull back together. You’re right. I’ve almost given away my right to be angry or to remonstrate with people.” He stood up and started to pace around the edge of the platform. “I have been far too placatory.” He waved a hand, “The trouble was that they so feared and disliked me at the beginning. But now, I’ve bent over too far. I should never have set myself up to be criticised like that.”

“I thought it was quite courageous, actually,” said Tree Wind, with  a smile.

Tarkyn spun around to find the four woodfolk had suddenly appeared among them, as only woodfolk can. He put his hands on his hips and frowned furiously, “And how long have you been here?” he snapped.

Falling Rain’s first close view of the prince was burning amber eyes glaring from beneath drawn black brows, in a face too much like the dreaded Markazon, framed by long black hair. The exiled woodman froze and his breath caught in his throat.

“Not long, Your Highness,” Waterstone was saying, unusually respectful. “But long enough to know that you’re not happy with us.” Without his usual smile, he added, “There have been eddies of discontent whirling through these flooded forests and the odd ripple of anger. I believe we have been remiss.” He swept his arm around to indicate Falling Rain. “Your Highness, I would like you to meet our long exiled kinsman and Summer Rain’s brother, Falling Rain.”

Falling Rain, his heart hammering in his chest, bowed low.

Waterstone waved his arm grandly at the prince, “And this is my brother and fellow woodman, TarkynTamadil, Prince of Eskuzor and Guardian of the Forest.”

Falling Rain’s eyes widened and he glanced at Waterstone, wondering at his courage, “I didn’t realise he was your brother.” He bowed again, “I beg your pardon, Your Highness. I was taken aback. I meant to say that I’m honoured to meet you. But now that I know that you’re Waterstone’s brother, I am even more honoured than I was before.” He glanced uncertainly at Watestone and gave a little frown, worried that he had said the wrong thing. Waterstone gestured surreptitiously to indicate that he could straighten up.