The Sorcerer's Oath - Books 3-4

Chapter 9-1

As they rose higher, the wind became bitter and white flakes began to spiral down among them. They tried to quicken their pace but there was only so fast they could negotiate the steep, rocky terrain in the darkness.

“I hope you think this is worth it, to put a greater distance between sorcerers and us,” grumbled String to any woodfolk within earshot.

“Yeah. As far as I could see, there were only harmless farmers near the woodlands anyway,” added Bean dolefully. “Your danger from a storm on the mountain is far greater.”

“One of those harmless people told Jarand we were there,” pointed out Tree Wind.

“Huh.” There was a short pause while String hauled himself up over a large boulder. “So what he’s going to do that he hasn’t tried already?”

“Watch out,” rumbled Thunder Storm, “There’s a sheer drop on your left along this next part. Keep against the right hand side of the path.”

“Why don’t we talk about this when we don’t need our breath for climbing?” said Tree Wind trenchantly. “We have enough to contend with at the moment.”

Slowly the wind picked up, driving the snow against their faces in sharp stabs of ice. The littlest children were struggling and had to be carried. Midnight stomped stoically between Hail and Tarkyn but his teeth were chattering and his laboured breathing hurt his chest. His foot slipped on an icy rock and he came down hard on his hands. As he scrabbled to get up quickly so that he didn’t hold everyone up, he felt strong hands grab him from behind and he was swung up into Tarkyn’s arms. Breathing a sigh of relief, he snuggled into the warmth of Tarkyn’s shoulder as he was borne up the mountain.

For two more long, cold hours the little troop struggled through the darkness, over icy rocks and along slippery paths, not daring to stop. The wind and snow made them miserable but did not develop into a storm. Sometime after midnight they reached the cave they had left two days before. Once on the narrow plateau, String and Bean led everyone to the entrance that was just beginning to disappear under a thin covering of snow and swept it clear with their arms.

Woodfolk and sorcerers gathered around but did not enter.

Tarkyn peered down into the pitch darkness of the cave’s entrance. “I had better go in first, I suppose.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Waterstone.

“And I,” added Danton.

Harkell wondered in the darkness why it fell to their liege to go first into an uncertain situation. He would have expected others to protect the prince by exploring any possible dangers and reporting back. The three volunteers disappeared into the darkness and after a moment a dim light could be seen emanating from within the cave.

Suddenly an angry roar shook the night. Without hesitation, Harkell pushed his way through the waiting woodfolk and rushed into the cave to the aid of his new liege.

“No. Harkell. Don’t go in,” shouted Autumn Leaves. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” He turned to Running Feet. “I don’t think he’s even armed.”

Harkell landed breathlessly within the cave to be confronted by the sight of Prince Tarkyn, standing face to face with a huge black mountain lion. As the mountain lion spotted the sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, he snarled and rushed at the new intruder. A shimmering wall of bronze slammed down around the lion just as it was about to launch itself at Harkell. The soldier found himself just feet from the enraged animal.

Waterstone raised his hand slowly to tell him to stay where he was. Bearing in mind that for all his reticence, Waterstone was Tarkyn’s bloodbrother, Harkell followed his request without question, against instincts that screamed at him to back away.

“I think this has just become more difficult,” said Tarkyn quietly as he walked over slowly to join Harkell in front of the mountain lion. He expanded his shield so the cat had room to move.

Tarkyn stood firmly before the mountain lion, emanated waves of greeting and apology while he sent images of the wolf pack interspersed with images of the woodfolk waiting outside, into the mountain lion’s mind. The great animal paced back and forth, lashing his tail and growling deep within his throat. Whenever the lion faced him, Tarkyn held his eyes unwaveringly and although he made no attempt to simulate an answering growl, slowly increased the sense of inherent threat in his images. Suddenly, the huge cat came to stand eye to eye with Tarkyn. After several fraught moments, the lion tilted his head back and let out a mighty roar that reverberated around the walls of the cave. Then, satisfied that he had affirmed his strength, he turned away and sauntered to the furthest reach of the shield where he lay down with his back to them, put his head on his paws and, to all intents and purposes, went back to sleep.

Tarkyn let out a sigh of relief, “Whew, he’s an ornery bastard, isn’t he?” He ran the back of his hand over his forehead, “I might just maintain my shield for a little longer until we are sure he is settled. It’s safe for everyone to come in now. They must be dying to get in out of the cold.”

“Well done, young one,” said Waterstone, patting Tarkyn’s shoulder on the way past, “I’ll bring in the others.”

Harkell moved aside to let Waterstone through, “I am sorry, sire. I gather my entry was not helpful. When I heard that first roar, I rushed to your assistance. I can see I should have been more cautious.”

Tarkyn shook his head, “No Harkell. You did as you should. Thank you for coming to my aid. How were you to know if no one thought to tell you?”

Harkell would have asked more but again did not wish to appear too curious. His eyes roved around the cave, checking for hidden crevices. He looked briefly at Danton and then returned his gaze to the prince to find himself being watched quizzically.

“I am a little surprised, Harkell. I expected you to ask me what it was that no one had told you.”

Harkell cleared his throat, “It is not that I am not curious, my lord…”

“I can see that,” said Tarkyn with a smile. “Your eyes don’t stay still for a moment.”

“No. But I do not want you to think that I might be spying for your brother. So I do not want to pry too closely and arouse your suspicions any more than I presume they already are.”

“Very wise,” said Danton firmly from the side.

Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “Danton, that is not kind.”

Danton gave a short laugh, “It depends on how you look at it. It is kinder to be forewarned than to wake up one morning and find one’s arms pinioned behind one’s back, facing charges of betrayal.”

“Is that what happened to you?” asked Harkell.

Danton gave a short nod.

Tarkyn looked at him, “Danton, you told me that you were willing to stake your life on your belief that my integrity would overcome my fear of betrayal. Yet when I offer my faith to someone new, you warn them off.”

Danton gave a slight bow, “I apologise. But the fact that I would stake my life did not necessarily mean that I was sure that I would win the bet. It meant that I thought you were worth the gamble.”

As they spoke, the woodfolk were spreading out into the cave, setting up places to sleep and setting a fire in the middle.

Tarkyn waved his hand in irritation at them both before walking away, “Do what you like then, both of you. If you can’t trust my faith in you, then so be it.”

Harkell was left standing uncertainly near the doorway. Danton glanced at him but feeling that Harkell’s presence had already soured his relationship with Tarkyn enough for one day, turned away from him and left to set up his own bedding.

The soldier stood watching the woodfolk chatting amongst themselves, saw String and Bean already lying down ready to sleep and Tarkyn speaking briefly with Stormaway before collecting Midnight to find a place in the corner to settle down. Harkell had never felt more alone. He edged slowly towards the entrance, then turned and climbed up the short slope to stand outside in the darkness. The wind had dropped and only the odd white flake drifted down. He hunched his cloak around him and walked across the narrow plateau to a small group of bushes. He peered into them and after a backward glance at the mouth of the cave, crawled in between the close-knit branches of the shrubs and lay down. He hugged his cloak around him, closed his eyes and tried to block out the events of the day.

A few minutes later, a voice close to him, whispered, “Hey, are you awake?”

After a moment’s thought, Harkell whispered back, “Yes. At least, I am now.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m on lookout duty.”

“I am not intending anyone any harm, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No. I can see that. I was just wondering if you were warm enough or needed another cloak over you if you’re staying out here for the night. I am Rainstorm, by the way.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m used to sleeping outside.”

“You may be warm enough,” replied Rainstorm, “But you’re not fine. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come out here on your own when it’s obviously warmer and safer in the cave.”

“Hmph.”

“Come on,” cajoled Rainstorm, “Why don’t you come out and talk to me and help me with lookout duty?”

Harkell let out a long sigh and roused himself to crawl out from within the bushes. The clouds had cleared and the moon shone strongly down on the scatterings of snow. He could see Rainstorm’s silhouette, sitting on a rock near him, scanning the trees nearby. When the woodman turned his head, the light was strong enough for him to see the green of his eyes.

Rainstorm patted the rock next to him, “Here. Plenty of room for two.”

Harkell glanced at the entrance to the cave but it was quiet and dark, only a slight orange glow from the fire inside showed through the doorway. “Won’t it get smoky in there with that fire going through the night?”

“No,” replied Rainstorm, “Stormaway has a neat little spell for directing and hiding smoke. Sorcerers have their uses, I must say. Danton can direct smoke too, but he has to concentrate on it whereas Stormaway can set up the spell and it will look after itself.”

“They’ve all gone to sleep then?”

Rainstorm smiled in the darkness, “Yes, now that they know you’re safe.”

“No one came out after me.”

“No. But when they realised you weren’t there, they checked with the lookouts and I told them where you were.”

Harkell mulled over this information, “So, were they alarmed for themselves or for me? And how did you speak with them? I didn’t hear voices.”

“We mind talk,” said Rainstorm matter-of-factly. “And they were alarmed for you, not for us. As you see, we have lookouts. We know when danger approaches. We are all armed and we have powerful sorcerers in our midst.”