The Sorcerer's Oath Collection

Chapter 21

Driving rain pounded on the roof of Tarkyn’s shelter all morning. At some point, a plate of bread and soft cheese accompanied by a jug of berry juice was thrust into his tent with a brief “Good Morning,” but no one came in. After four days of repairing trees, followed by the discovery of Andoran and Sargon’s duplicity and his run-in with Autumn Leaves, Tarkyn was quite happy to spend the morning in bed.

When the rain passed, he lay listening to the birdsong around him until the gruff voice of the wizard sounded at the entrance to his shelter.

“Come on, young Sire. You can’t lie abed all day. Rain’s stopped. Sun’s out…well, most of the time anyway.”

Tarkyn grumbled to himself, but he was used to being ordered around by familiar retainers, whose lives revolved around his. As soon as he emerged from the bramble patch, Stormaway pounced on him. “I thought you might like to see some little concoctions I am experimenting with.”

Rubbing his face, Tarkyn looked around at the glistening leaves, damp logs and mud underfoot. The air was lively with the chirruping of small birds, cheerful after the rain. The woodfolk were nowhere in sight.

As he began to walk towards Stormaway, the wizard said, “Sire, if you wouldn’t mind, stand on stones as much as possible especially after rain. It reduces the amount of work required to hide your presence, if strangers should happen by.”

The prince was grumpy at being woken up, so he snapped, “Stormaway, I have a whole nation of people to look after my needs. I am sure they can find the time to disguise my footsteps. After all, I have made few demands on them so far and their service is casual, to say the least.” Nevertheless, from then on he did try to minimise the trail he left behind him.

Stormaway led him to an array of small bottles that he had laid out on a tree stump. “Now Sire, stand back a few feet and watch while I have a little dabble with these new potions I picked up on my last trip.”

He spooned out a small quantity of bright yellow powder from a little packet onto a tiny dish. Then he unstopped one of the bottles and poured a few drops of magenta liquid onto the powder. At first nothing happened. Then the powder began to fizz and a pungent smell wafted out from the dish.

Tarkyn coughed and his eyes watered, “Ugh Stormaway. That’s vile. What’s it for?”

Stormaway grinned, “I don’t know. I’m just playing. But I would say a larger quantity of that could be quite debilitating, wouldn’t you?” He produced a small tattered book and wrote furiously in it. When he had finished, he looked up, “Ready for another one?”

This time, he mixed silver and white powders together before pouring a thick, light blue liquid over them. Nothing happened. This did not seem to perturb the wizard. He hummed to himself as he worked the powders and liquid into a thick paste. Then he rolled it into a small, damp ball and placed it in the palm of his hand.

“Ready, Your Highness?” With that, he threw it hard onto the ground.

There was a blinding flash of light and a loud report.

When the smoke cleared Tarkyn found himself surrounded by woodfolk, facing the wizard with arrows drawn.

Stormaway was chuckling to himself, quite unconcerned, “Whoops! A bit more potent than I anticipated. I think I’ve singed my eyebrows.” He smiled approvingly at the woodfolk. “Very quick. I felicitate you.”

Thunder Storm scowled at him, “Stormaway, you play fast and loose with our prince and our forest. Desist.”

“Hmm. You do have a point. I had better be a little more careful.” The wizard bowed slightly to the prince, “Your Highness, I think it might be better if you watch from further away next time. I really didn’t mean to put you at risk.”

The woodfolk put away their arrows and turned to the prince.

“I hope that wasn’t too casual for you, Your Highness,” said Thunder Storm with awful sarcasm.

Before Tarkyn could reply, they had disappeared. The prince was left feeling torn between chagrin and anger.

Woodfolk turned up briefly for lunch but remained reticent. Tarkyn could think of nothing to say to bridge the widening gap, since their disappearance without his leave had effectively proved his remark.

Eventually, he said, “I am sorry that I spoke about you instead of to you.”

Summer Rain gave a small sniff, “I doubt it. I expect you are just embarrassed that you were caught out.”

“Summer Rain,” cut in Stormaway. “You clearly have no idea of the honour it is to have a prince apologize to you.”

“Thank you Stormaway. I will manage my own affairs, if you don’t mind.” The wizard’s interference had done nothing to improve matters. Tarkyn tried again. “You people are very quick at responding to perceived threat.”

“Yes, we are,” rumbled Thunder Storm. “We have to be.”

Tarkyn wasn’t sure if this was a reference to the oath or their secretive way of life. Both, he suspected. “Better now than when Andoran and Sargon came into the forest.”

“That won’t happen again.” Creaking Bough glanced at him but didn’t meet his eyes. “We don’t make the same mistakes twice, especially when the stakes are so high.”

“So I see.”

When no one spoke, Tarkyn gave up and ate the rest of his lunch in silence. Either the presence of the wizard or his chance remark had soured the camaraderie he had begun to establish. As one who was used to constant formality, he was surprised at how quickly he had come to look forward to their friendliness. He glanced around at the woodfolk’s closed faces and repressed a sigh. And to his growing concern, there was no sign of Waterstone, Sparrow or Autumn Leaves. However, he respected Autumn Leaves’ evaluation that Waterstone would need time to regroup, so he made no attempt to contact them.

With lunch over, the woodfolk melted away, leaving Tarkyn with his wizard. Although Stormaway intrigued him, Tarkyn did not want his time monopolised by him but for the time being, he let it ride.

Stormaway settled back and said, “Since your father imposed the oath, Your Highness, I have kept up constant contact with the woodfolk. I act as their agent to sell their wines, preserves, nuts and berries. They now have access to many goods that they didn’t have before your father came here.”

“What did they do in those days?”

“They were totally self-sufficient before I came along. I am still the only link they have with the outside world,” said Stormaway with a self-satisfied air.

Tarkyn looked askance at him. Something in his tone of voice disturbed him. Only one route for goods out meant that Stormaway had a monopoly. This arrangement would bear further scrutiny, he decided. “So do you exchange for goods or money?”

“I sell the woodfolk’s goods, then use the money to buy whatever they request, mainly cloths, metal arrow tips, knives, that sort of thing. Sometimes stockpiles of foods, if the winter looks like being very hard or the harvests have been particularly poor. Sometimes I bring back money to use on the next trip.”

“And I presume you receive a commission?”

“Of course I do. Nothing unreasonable, though. Ten percent.” Stormaway added stiffly, “You can check with them if you doubt me.”

“That is very fair of you.” The prince smiled disarmingly and said, “But if I did check with them, how would they know what price you received for their goods in the first place?”

The wizard’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Just as Tarkyn braced himself to deal with a tirade, Stormaway suddenly smiled, “Oh Your Highness, you will be a fine liege lord for these people. Already you are working to protect their interests. It comes as naturally to you as breathing.”

Tarkyn thought about Sparrow and Waterstone, and grimaced, “I doubt that they would agree with you. Not only that, but even if they did, I doubt that they would thank me for it. They have managed without my protection for centuries and I am sure they would prefer to continue to manage without it.”

“Give it time, Your Highness.”

“I will, Stormaway, but not too long. There are some among them who are almost heroic in their efforts to overcome our differences and yet it is these very people whom I have inadvertently hurt the most. I will not persist in a situation that is too difficult either for them or me.”

The wizard was clearly not happy with this response but decided to hold his peace.

Almost as a defence against Stormaway’s silent rebuke, Tarkyn picked up a stick and concentrated on methodically breaking bits off the end of it. After a while, he looked up and asked, “And who among the woodfolk keeps the money for you between trips? Who keeps the accounts?”

Stormaway scratched his head. “That depends, really. Different woodfolk look after different enterprises, so to speak. So I receive hazelnuts from Ancient Oak, blackberries and preserves from Tree Wind, and so on. If there is a stockpile of money, Waterstone takes it and hides it somewhere in the forest until it’s needed. I think all the woodfolk know where it is. They only hide it to keep it safe from intruders, not from each other. They are amazingly trusting, these woodfolk.”

The more Tarkyn heard, the more he realised how hard it must have been for Waterstone to be doubted. Aloud he said, “Perhaps it is harder to be deceitful when they share their thoughts with each other constantly.”

“You know about that, do you?”

“Yes. I can even do a version of it myself, you know.”

“Can you, Sire?” The wizard was impressed. “I didn’t know any sorcerers had that facility.”

“Neither did I.” Tarkyn stood up and walked around the clearing as he spoke to stretch his limbs. “I can’t do it in the same way as the woodfolk. I can only use images and feelings. No words. It has caused a few small problems because it is so new to me. I haven’t really mastered it yet.” He didn’t think he would go into details of the disaster with Sparrow and its consequences. “What about wizards? Can you use any form of mental communication?”

Stormaway frowned. “Well, I didn’t think so, but thinking back to yesterday…Did you send me a wave of anger when you were objecting to my interference? Somehow I felt that I was on the receiving end of a right royal rage, far beyond the degree of anger in your voice.”

The prince grinned. “Yes. My latest technique, designed to give a private dressing down in a public place.”

“Very good, Your Highness,” replied the wizard dryly.

“Thank you,” responded Tarkyn, not about to be daunted, “Just be glad I have more tact than you do.” He considered the wizard. “Something’s been puzzling me. Why were you so sure of yourself when you were goading me when we first met? You professed to know how dangerous I could be but then deliberately set about drawing my fire. Are you so powerful?”

Stormaway smirked. “I was while you had no shield up and there were forty arrows aimed at you from within the trees, by woodfolk who were looking for any excuse to kill you.”

Tarkyn gave an involuntary shudder. “Stars above! I’m lucky to be alive!”

“Not lucky. You proved yourself. It was you, not luck, which pulled you through that situation.”

The young man thought about this for a moment then gave himself a mental shake and asked, “So, what are a wizard’s specialities? I know you serve an apprenticeship and have much more detailed training than your average sorcerer, but what do you gain?”

“A true Master Wizard spends years studying his or her craft, well beyond the four year apprenticeship. Our powers develop, although none would have greater power than you. However, I expect I have a greater knowledge of how to use those powers effectively and for a wider range of uses. Sorcerers generally just take their powers for granted and, except for a few, learn as they go. Wizards also tend to have more skill in healing, partly because of the knowledge they accrue. No mental communication that I know of, though some of us can use mind control, of course.”

Tarkyn frowned. “Can you? How strongly? Could you use it on me? Not that I am going to let you try.”

Stormaway glanced sideways at the prince. “I have used it on sorcerers sometimes when I was in the king’s service.”

“Did you know that Tree Wind tried to use it on me the day after I met you?”

“Outrageous!” The wizard was scandalized. “Didn’t they realise how dangerous that was? I told them the binding spell would already be working. Did the forest suffer? What happened?”

“I realised what she was doing and resisted just in time. There was little damage to the forest.”

Stormaway huffed, “Lucky for them that you are so strong… If you don’t mind me asking, how did you manage to resist?”

Tarkyn gave a lop-sided grin. “I was outraged when I realised what she was trying to do. The anger gave me the energy to resist her and close my eyes.”

“Hmm. You are an unusual sorcerer. Most untrained sorcerers are a walkover, to be honest.”

“Are they? And what about woodfolk? They too use mind control. What happens when two people try to use it simultaneously on each other, I wonder?” At last he had an expert in magic to tap. “And is it easier to resist if you are a user of mind control yourself?”

Smiling, the wizard put up his hand to stop the deluge of questions. “One step at a time, my boy… In answer to your first question, I haven’t had much need to try mind control on woodfolk but I have had one signal success. It was a little unfair, I suppose, since the woodman was very weak at the time…”

Tarkyn went very still. “You’re talking about Falling Rain, aren’t you?”

The wizard’s head whipped back. “Sire! What was that? I’ve just been hit by a wave of what? – Outrage, anger, disgust?”

“Looks as if you can pick up emotions after all,” said Tarkyn tightly.

“Well, I don’t know what gives you the right to be sanctimonious, Your Highness. If it weren’t for our discovering the woodfolk, you’d be isolated, out in the open and on the run.”

“Stormaway! Don’t you realise that Falling Rain was exiled all those years ago for betraying the woodfolk?”

The wizard shrugged. “Better him than you. My loyalty lies with you, not the woodfolk. If I knew it would ensure your safety, I would do it again without a second thought.”

Tarkyn stared at his determinedly faithful retainer, aware that they had reached an impasse. After a moment, he asked, “Did you think to tell the woodfolk that you had forced the information out of Falling Rain?”

“I didn’t even know until now that he had been exiled. They don’t tell me their business any more than they need to.”

“And would you have told them, if you knew?”

Stormaway thought carefully. “On balance, I think, yes. I can’t see that it would have damaged your cause if they had known that.”

“In actual fact, it would have meant one less pocket of resistance for me to overcome.”

“They’re a funny lot. It was entirely up to them what they did about it. Why do they direct their resentment towards you?”

“Not all of them agreed with exiling him and those that disagreed were making some headway with overturning the decision until I turned up.”

Stormaway smiled cheerfully. “So it’s good we had this little chat isn’t it? Because now you have a good reason for overriding the exile, haven’t you? I presume you want to, judging by that flood of emotion I received.”

“I do, but I don’t want to enforce my will on them.”

“Your Highness!” Stormaway scowled at him. “I thought I detected some flaws in your attitude. You are their liege lord. They do as you say. No questions asked. That’s the end of it. What’s the point of the oath if you don’t use it?”

Tarkyn looked at him out of the corner of his eye and let out a long sigh. Well, that’s one side of the argument, he thought. His reaction to Stormaway’s stance gave him some hope, though. He was relieved to realise that, although he liked to have the power, he didn’t necessarily like to use it. Maybe I deserve Waterstone’s faith in me after all. He let his faithful retainer know none of this, but simply asked, “I wonder how one overturns a decision when there is no court to inform that you are doing it.”

“Obvious. You simply inform the exile that he may come back.”

“What? And let him walk back into a disapproving society? That would be no life for him. I have to sort it out with the rest of the woodfolk first.” Tarkyn thought for a few moments. “I’ll start by discussing it with Summer Rain”

The prince sent out an image of Summer Rain, with a feeling of uncertainty attached, into the trees generally and hoped that someone would pick it up and pass it on. In a surprisingly short amount of time, Summer Rain came running.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, panting as she caught her breath.

“Oh dear,” said Tarkyn, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

The healer scowled at him.

“Please sit down,” he invited urbanely, “Have you met Stormaway Treemaster? Of course you have. You would have worked together to heal the sick when my father came here, wouldn’t you?” Tarkyn realised he has babbling and promptly stopped himself.

“You wanted to speak to me about something?”

“Yes,” replied Tarkyn more slowly. “And if I could just ask you ahead of time not to relay any of this conversation? That might save any unpleasantness later on. I will be able to tell if you do and I really do not like people sharing my conversations without my permission.”

Summer Rain’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Not that I had planned to do so.”

“No, perhaps not, but I know it is natural for you to share information while for me, it is not.”

“I’ll remember that, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Now, if you remember, I said I would consider Falling Rain’s plight.” The prince considered her gravely. “I don’t think you set much store by that at the time, but I don’t usually make hollow undertakings.” He glanced sideways at the wizard. “It has now come to my attention that mind power was used on Falling Rain to discover the location of the woodfolk. Were you aware of this?”

Summer Rain shook her head emphatically. “No… So it was not his choice to betray us. This information changes everything.”

“I thought it might. Given that I now have new grounds for overturning an old decision, I am quite prepared to do so. Consequently, I need to know how to go about it. I can’t just order Falling Rain back if everyone is still shunning him.”

“I can send out a message explaining the new information. I think….”

Tarkyn interrupted gently, “I don’t mean to cast aspersions on you, but would this information be better coming from a more disinterested party - perhaps someone who had been opposed to your brother’s return?”

The healer’s eyes flashed but she took a moment to think about it before nodding reluctantly. “Why don’t you just send it?”

The sorcerer shook his head regretfully. “Can’t send words, I’m afraid. I’m happy to have the message sent in my name, but I need an intermediary.”

“What about Waterstone?”

Tarkyn boggled. “Waterstone! I thought he would have been on your side. No wonder he left the discussion. We’d have had a war in my shelter.”

“No, Your Highness,” Summer Rain replied without a vestige of humour, “I would have considered your need for quiet and drawn him outside. He has always believed that betrayal for whatever reason deserved exile, at the very least. He has always been very firm about the old rules.”

Tarkyn absorbed this new information into his view of the woodman. Then he remembered Waterstone’s present situation and said, “I think you’ll find Waterstone is unavailable for the time being. Who else can you think of?”

“Thunder Storm?”

“Agreed. Could you ask him to come here please?” While they were waiting for Thunder Storm’s arrival, Tarkyn asked, “How will we inform Falling Rain? How far away is he? Could a mind message reach him from here?”

Summer Rain shook her head, “And even if it could, I’m not sure that he’d agree to come back. He may need some persuasion. No one has seen him for years. The last sighting of him was way down in the south west.”

“I see. And who would go to tell him?”

“I don’t know yet. We will work it out amongst ourselves.”

Restless after his recuperation, Tarkyn came to a sudden decision. “I shall go.”

Immediately, the wizard cut in. “You cannot go without a retinue. It would be improper.”

“I came to the forest without a retinue, Stormaway.” The prince reminded him gently.

Summer Rain joined forces with the wizard. “You can’t go on your own. Without us, the wolf would have killed you yesterday. The bounty hunters would have carried you off.”

“And I wouldn’t have three broken ribs,” quipped Tarkyn. I don’t learn, do I? he thought, as she stared at him stonily. After a moment, he said more seriously, “I had no intention of going alone. I have very limited experience of woodcraft, hunting, cooking, navigating or possible dangers. Even if I wanted to, I know I couldn’t go alone. But it would give me a chance to see some of the woodlands and to help to redress the wrong done to Falling Rain.” He grimaced. “The biggest problem I can see is that you might find it harder to recruit woodfolk who would be willing to fetch Falling Rain, if they know they will have me with them.”

Summer Rain looked at him for a long time. “Have we been so hard on you?”

“Not everyone, and not all the time. But I know most woodfolk resent me,” remembering Waterstone’s memory, he added, “and consider me a liability.”

For the first time, Summer Rain smiled. “Not completely. I think a travelling party might appreciate the talents of a sorcerer on their side. I don’t know that you’re ready to travel yet, though.”

“How long?”

Summer Rain shrugged, “You are pretty tired again today. Aren’t you?”

“But I just spent four days lifting branches.” He saw her about to protest and cut in, “And in answer to your next question. No, I wasn’t just sitting around and yes, it does tire me even if it’s only magic. You don’t do physical magic, so you don’t understand.”

“If that’s the case, you shouldn’t have done so much then.”

Tarkyn smiled. “No pleasing you, is there? No, I probably shouldn’t have. But we only had a short time to repair the trees before they would have been too dried out. So, better to work too hard for four days and recover on the fifth, don’t you think?”

The healer nodded reluctantly. “I think you will need another few days or you will just hold everyone up. Then you would be a liability. We don’t want you overstraining yourself trying to keep up. But we will need time to assemble supplies and equipment, so you may be well enough by then anyway. If not, we will wait. After twelve years, another week will not matter.” He remembered this was not what she had said to him a few days ago but saw no point in mentioning it. She smiled at him. “And thank you.”

By the time Thunder Storm arrived, it was almost dinnertime. A huge pot of stew hung over the fire, its tantalisingly smell wafting over the clearing. Thunder Storm filled two bowls and handed one to the Tarkyn as he sat down next to him.

The prince blew on the hot food and ate a few mouthfuls. “This is good stew, a bit gamey perhaps but plenty of herbs…Hmm, very tasty indeed.”

“Thank you, Sire,” Thunder Storm took a mouthful himself, “Ah yes. You need the herbs. It takes a fine chef to cook a good wolf stew. Taste’s too strong for roasting.”

Tarkyn choked. “Did you say wolf? Not the wolves we killed yesterday?”

“Of course.” Thunder Storm rumbled happily. “You have to cook it quickly so that it doesn’t go off.

This answer was so eminently sensible that Tarkyn was left with nothing to say. He peered into his bowl, steeled himself and kept eating.

“Mind you, there’s a lot of meat on two wolves. We should have plenty of stew for the next few days, at least. And not only that,” continued the woodman, blithely unaware of the prince’s heroism, “I think the pelt of the wolf Waterstone shot down will be large enough to make you a good thick cloak for winter.”

“Marvellous,” said the prince with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, as he thought of the finely tailored cloaks he had left hanging in his wardrobe at the palace.

“However,” rumbled Thunder Storm with a disapproving frown, “Your fireworks didn’t do much for the quality of the other pelt. Probably worth bearing in mind next time, Your Highness.” he added kindly, giving the prince’s knee an avuncular pat.

The prince nearly choked again and cast a weather eye in Stormaway’s direction to see whether he had noticed Thunder Cloud’s over-familiarity. Luckily the wizard was intent on listening in on someone’s conversation; a common activity for him, Tarkyn suspected. “I’ll try to do better next time,” he managed, smothering a laugh.

Thunder Storm beamed at him and asked why the prince had wanted to see him. When Tarkyn explained, he was relieved to find that once Thunder Storm had expressed his shock and dismay, he was quite happy to send out a message on the prince’s behalf even though he had previously been an advocate for Falling Rain’s continued exile. Almost at once, Tarkyn was rocked backwards by a wave of outrage followed by a deluge of relief and rejoicing.

The prince grinned. “Did you feel that? I think my first decree, or whatever you call it, has met with approval.”

Thunder Storm smiled. “No. I didn’t feel anything but my mind is jammed up with excited messages coming from everywhere. People are so pleased to hear that Falling Rain did not willingly betray us after all. Glad for him that he can come home, and glad for all woodfolk that the pact we have amongst ourselves is still intact.”