The Sorcerer's Oath - Books 3-4

Chapter 10-1

“Morning, Harkell.”

Harkell opened an eye to find the prince standing over him holding out a cup of tea. As a look of alarm passed over his face and he scrabbled to get himself upright, Tarkyn gave a friendly laugh and put out a restraining hand.

“No, Harkell. Don’t rush to get up. I’m just bringing you a cup of tea. You may lie there and drink it, if you wish. We won’t be leaving for another hour or so.”

Harkell accepted the tea and thanked him, watching warily as the prince sat down, cross-legged, beside him and picked up his own tea.

Tarkyn took a sip then turned to look at the uneasy soldier. “I’m sorry we treated you so poorly last night that we forced you out into the cold. Everyone was cold and tired and perhaps a little too focused on their own needs.”

Harkell sat himself up and pulled his cloak around himself with one hand while he held his tea in the other. “It was not that anyone did anything unkind…”

“I know. It’s just that we didn’t do anything kind either, when you needed a little kindness.”

Harkell was intrigued to hear the prince including himself as being at fault. He smiled, “No harm done. Now I have made a friend in Rainstorm. He put a lot of effort into drawing me back in.”

Tarkyn smiled, “Rainstorm is great. He is one of my best friends. Sharp as a tack, which doesn’t always go down well with his elders.”

Harkell’s eyes watched the prince over the rim of his cup as he sipped his tea.

“Now Harkell,” continued Tarkyn, “I shouldn’t have said, ‘So be it,’ last night. I suppose I too, was tired. I am not content that you may think I don’t have faith in you. You and I both made a decision yesterday to commit ourselves to each other. As far as I am concerned, that decision is final. So, feel free to ask me anything you would like to know. If I there are things I don’t want to tell you, I will explain why, but it won’t be because I don’t trust you. Clear?” Suddenly he laughed and patted the soldier on the knee, “Harkell, you have the most speaking eyes I have ever seen. They are always darting around taking in information or focusing on people as you weigh up what is being said to you against what you are seeing. It is most unnerving.”

Harkell lowered his cup and felt at ease enough to smile, “I beg your pardon, my lord. I did not mean to scrutinise you.”

“It’s fine. Don’t stop. I’ll get used to it.” Tarkyn sipped his tea, “So, come on Harkell. What would you like to know? I gather Rainstorm filled you in on a few things last night but there must be some other questions you would like to ask.”

There was a short silence before Harkell smiled ruefully, “There is so much I want to know that I don’t know where to begin. I suppose I am most interested in your extraordinary powers that everyone is talking about. And you being this character out of woodfolk mythology. How mystical are you and how does it feel to be a walking legend?”

Tarkyn smiled warmly at the captain, “I can see I am going to grow to like you very much. Not many people stop to wonder how I feel about all this. Probably only Lapping Water, Waterstone and Rainstorm. And to answer the last of your questions first, I find it constantly embarrassing because it is not my legend and so I am something to the woodfolk that I don’t fully understand. And, as their forest guardian, I am expected to save them all and it is not clear to me whether this is an ongoing avoidance of disasters or whether I have already fulfilled it by saving them from the curse.” He waved his hand, “I’ll tell you about the curse later, or someone else will.”

“And how did they decide that you were a forest guardian?”

Tarkyn glanced sideways at him, “There are particular powers that denote a forest guardian which I developed after I entered the forest. You have seen them already. The power to heal and promote growth, and the power to share images and feelings with animals.”

“So, are those your only extraordinary powers?”

“No. There is one more but it has nothing to do with being the forest guardian. I can perform two spells at once. In fact, if I concentrate hard, I can do three at once but not for long.” Tarkyn sat back looking smug, “Even Jarand was impressed by that.”

Harkell smiled, “I can see you are, whatever anyone else thinks.”

youTarkyn exploded with laughter, sending a mouthful of tea shooting all over himself. As he put down his cup and wiped himself down, he was still grinning, “Well, yes I am, Harkell, as it turns out. But thanks for pointing it out.”

Harkell grinned in return.

Tarkyn sent a message to ask Midnight for cloth before adding lightly, “It’s those eyes of yours. I knew they were seeing more than other people bother to notice.” He became serious, “You are very courageous, aren’t you? You’re lucky to have survived as long as you did with Jarand.”

“I would never have said anything like that to your brother. I like to think I combine courage with careful observation and sound judgement.” He shrugged, “With the obvious exception of my failure yesterday.”

Midnight arrived with a cloth and Tarkyn took a moment to thank him and ask for two bowls of porridge. Midnight beamed at him and trotted off.

“Such a cute boy,” Tarkyn murmured quietly, watching him thread his way over to the fire. He brought his gaze back to bear on the captain, “But now you understand from Rainstorm, don’t you, that you could not have predicted the forces you were up against.”

Harkell nodded slowly, “Do you all talk about each other all the time? Will all my conversations become public knowledge?”

“Not all the time. I have it on the good authority of Waterstone that they talk about me constantly, much more than they do about each other. Of course, for the moment, you have taken centre stage as a new arrival, but with any luck it will wear off in time.” Tarkyn smiled as Midnight and Sparrow arrived bearing two bowls each. They distributed the porridge and then sat down on either side of Tarkyn to have their own breakfasts.

“Morning, Sparrow.”

“Hello, Tarkyn…and Harkell,” said Sparrow cheerily. “Is your back better now, Harkell? It looked terrible yesterday. It must have hurt like anything.”

Harkell finished his mouthful of porridge before replying, “Yes, it did hurt like anything. But thanks to His Highness, my back is feeling nearly as good as new.”

Sparrow turned to her uncle, “Tarkyn, why does Harkell have to keep calling you Your Highness?”

The prince frowned at her, “Young lady, you are beginning to become quite a handful. You were rude to Jarand yesterday and now you are embarrassing me in front of Harkell. It is my choice how I am to be addressed, not yours.”

Sparrow seemed quite unmoved by his displeasure. When she had finished her next mouthful of porridge she said calmly, “I wasn’t telling you what to do. Even I would be careful about that. I was just asking. That’s all.”

Harkell’s soft brown eyes watched as he ate his porridge.

Tarkyn smiled ruefully at him, “Harkell, I was going to say at some stage, before I was so rudely pre-empted, that you may call me Tarkyn, as everyone else does.” He frowned down at Sparrow, “And just so that we are clear, Sparrow, I would appreciate questions like that being discussed with me privately first. You know perfectly well when something you say is going to be awkward. You are not as stupid as you are pretending to be.”

Sparrow finished her porridge, put her bowl down and hopped into his lap, “Sorry Tarkyn. I’ll try to be trickier next time.”

Tarkyn put his bowl down so that he could wrap his arm around her, “Hmm, I’m not sure that I just won that argument. I think you’re an out and out scoundrel.”

Sparrow chortled and sent Harkell an impish grin. Moments later, he felt a tug on his leg and looked down to see Midnight pointing at him, then at himself, followed by wrapping his hands around each other. Then the little boy tilted his head to one side.

“He is asking whether you would like to be friends with him,” interpreted Tarkyn. “He has also just double-checked with me his understanding that you are now isolated from your own people and wants you to know that he, too, was isolated for a long time and so understands how you feel. I think, if you don’t mind me suggesting it, that he would accept an invitation to sit on your knee as a seal of friendship.”

Harkell smiled, pointed at Midnight and then patted his cross-legged lap. Midnight grinned and climbed into the nest created by Harkell’s legs.

“There is a little team of us who are or have been exiles,” said Tarkyn as he returned Midnight’s satisfied smile. “Four of us who were forced into it; you, me, Midnight, and Falling Rain. And then there is Danton who chose it, to be with me. Midnight and Falling Rain are now back with their people but you and I, my friend,…” Tarkyn shrugged, “Well, these are my people now. And maybe one day you can return to yours, though perhaps not beneath the walls of Montraya.”

“Hmm, I would like to be reunited with my family, but for the rest I am less concerned. I can’t see how I could ever return and remain true to my pledge to you, if you remain in exile.”

Tarkyn gave his head a slight shake, “There are many types of service, Harkell. They do not all involve being by my side.”

Harkell was slowly stroking Midnight’s hair. “My son is about the same age as Midnight. He has my colouring and his name is Sorrell. My daughter is only three and she is called Marema.”

“And your wife?” asked Tarkyn.

“My wife’s name is Kayana. She has dark hair, almost black and the most vivid turquoise eyes you have ever seen.”

“And who will look after them while you are gone?”

A shadow crossed the soldier’s face, “I suppose they will get no more money from Prince Jarand. But my brother will take care of them and I’m afraid Kayana will have to work. It will not be easy with a three year old and a six year old to look after but they will get by.”

“Hmm, that’s something else we should have told you before you made your decision. None of us has any money. Well, actually, there may be some stashed away somewhere in the forest that Waterstone knows about, and perhaps Stormaway has some, but anything that I rescued from the ruins of my previous life is hidden somewhere between the forest and Tormadell.”

Harkell stroked Midnight’s hair a couple of time before looking up and saying, “Lord Danton would not allow me to choose on the basis of anything other than being willing to follow you. So I had no chance to ask about money or to count it as a factor.”