The Sorcerer's Oath - Books 3-4

Chapter 4-3

Tarkyn laughed and shook his head, “No. He’s arguing with his brother. Just wait.”

Suddenly, Ancient Oak appeared with Sparrow tightly holding his hand. Ancient Oak bowed and Sparrow, watching out of the corner of her eye, bowed also.

Tarkyn smiled reassuringly at them, and waved a hand casually at the prince. “This is Prince Jarand,” he turned to Jarand, “And this is my brother and yours, Ancient Oak and our niece Sparrow. If you would be kind enough to give your word that you will not harm any of us, we could dispense with our shields for a while. I give you my word that none of us will harm you if you do not attack. Agreed?”

Jarand nodded shortly and waved away his shield. Tarkyn followed suit.

Immediately Sparrow ran and jumped up into Tarkyn’s arms and hugged him. Then she twisted to face Jarand and frowned fiercely at him from the safety of Tarkyn’s arms. “You were mean to Tarkyn, weren’t you? You made him very sad, you know. I don’t know how you could be so mean to your own family.”

“Sparrow,” hissed Waterstone sharply, clearly flustered by his daughter’s faux pas, “That is no way to speak to an adult. Now, apologise.”

For a moment Sparrow looked mutinous. But then she gave a little sigh and said, “I beg your pardon. I shouldn’t have said that.” Then she flicked a very naughty glance at her father before adding, “But it’s still true.”

Tarkyn gave her a couple of taps on the end of her nose with his finger. “Young lady, you are embarrassing everybody, including me. We all know what has happened and must live with it, as best we can. Nothing will be gained by ramming it down Jarand’s throat. If you want to help me, please be polite to my brother. Can you do that?”

Sparrow nodded, and swallowed, “Sorry, Tarkyn. Sorry, Your Highness.”

Tarkyn gave her a squeeze and breathed a little sigh of relief that she had used the right form of address for Jarand. “Good girl.”

Within Jarand, outrage was warring with diplomacy. Despite his best efforts, some of this showed on his face. Waterstone said kindly, “Don’t worry. We know you will be horrified by all of this. I think you are doing a very good job of disguising your consternation. Even after all this time, Tarkyn still struggles to quell that marvellous, inbred Tamadil disdain. We are doing our best to follow your etiquette. You may notice, we all bowed. That was a big effort for us. Ask Tarkyn.”

Jarand was so stunned at being spoken to like this that he went beyond anger. He blinked and looked around at Tarkyn, “I feel as though I have just walked into a dream… Or is it a nightmare? I’m not sure which yet.” He frowned suddenly, “I hope this level of familiarity is only amongst your adopted family. Even for family members, it is well beyond the bounds of propriety, but for those outside… well! It would be unconscionable.”

With a sense of inevitability, Tarkyn watched as Rainstorm appeared beside him grinning cheekily and said, “Hi, Prince. Going to introduce me to your brother?”

Tarkyn gave his head a little shake and sighed. With a wry smile, he waved his hand from one to the other, “Prince Jarand, Rainstorm.”

When Rainstorm made no move to bow, the prince’s grey eyes glittered dangerously, “I see these ill-educated people have no understanding of the niceties of a civilised society. Your behaviour, young man, is a disgrace. If you were in my court, I would have you flogged for insolence.”

“Lucky I’m not then, isn’t it?” retorted Rainstorm. “And after the way you treated Tarkyn, you will get no respect from me.”

“Rainstorm,” said Tarkyn firmly, but not unkindly, “Please at least respect me and back down a little. We do not want outright war here. We are merely trying to exchange information. And remember, Jarand is now one among many. That gives us an unfair advantage.”

“Good!” Rainstorm glowered at Tarkyn for a moment before waving a hand in the air, “Fair enough. Sorry. I’ll back off.” Matching actions to words, he turned and patted Tarkyn on the arm on the way past as he walked away to stand a little behind them all, arms folded.

For several long seconds, a fraught silence reigned. Then Ancient Oak broke the impasse by crossing over to Jarand’s horse and stroking its neck in long calming movements. “This is a fine stallion you have here, my lord. Is he fast?”

Jarand stared at him for a moment before gathering his wits to reply, “Yes. He combines speed and stamina. I have had him since he was a foal.” He walked over to stand beside Ancient Oak. The stallion tossed his head and butted him gently. “I don’t suppose you have any carrots?… or apples?”

Surprisingly, Rainstorm produced an apple from his pocket and held it out, saying gruffly, “Here.”

Jarand’s eyes narrowed but after a moment he accepted the gesture for what it was and said, “Would you like to feed it to him?”

Alarm flickered in Rainstorm’s eyes, “What about you, Ancient Oak? Don’t you want to feed him?”

Ancient Oak gave a wicked little smile, “No Rainstorm, I couldn’t deprive you of the pleasure.”

“What about you, Prince, I mean Your Highness? Don’t you want to feed your own horse?”

Jarand realised an opportunity for a small revenge had just presented itself and shook his head, “No. I would be honoured if you gave him the apple yourself.”

“Oh my stars! What have I let myself in for?”

Rainstorm looked in panic at Tarkyn who laughed and said, “Just put the apple in the palm of your hand and hold it out in front of him. He won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Rainstorm took a deep breath and did as instructed, holding his hand as far away from himself as he could. The great black stallion gently mouthed the apple out of his hand and munched it. Rainstorm straightened up and began to strut around the clearing, “Did you see that? Easiest thing out. I think your horse likes me.”

Tarkyn looked at Sparrow and asked her, “Do you want to pat the horse?”

She considered for a minute then nodded, “Don’t put me down, though.”

As Tarkyn walked over within patting range of Storm, Jarand said, “I gather you woodfolk don’t ride, as a general rule?”

“No sir. Not in the normal course of events,” replied Ancient Oak.

“Only when you are mounting a raid on my encampment?” asked Jarand silkily.

Ancient Oak kept a perfectly straight face and nodded inconsequentially. “Yes. That would be one of the rare times we have used horses.” He shrugged and grinned, “But if you don’t want us letting your horses loose again, you’ll just have to make sure you don’t take any of us prisoner again.”

Jarand raised his eyebrows, “Then you will have to make sure that you don’t cross me.”

Waterstone, standing a judicious distance away from the horse, said, “I don’t think we are even close to being able to agree that. However I think we can guarantee that if you do take any of us again, the disruption to your troops and horses will be more severe.” In response to Jarand’s frown, Waterstone shrugged, “Now that we know that you know about us, we can afford to be less cautious in future, if we need to be.”

Jarand looked down his aristocratic nose at Waterstone, “You do not look like fighting men, if I may say so.”

“Certainly you may say so,” said Waterstone airily. “Say what you like. After all, your men clearly have it all over us, don’t they?”

“Unless I’m much mistaken, I believe that is the work of sorcerers, not you people,” replied Jarand disdainfully.

Tarkyn intervened hurriedly, flicking a warning glance at Waterstrone, “Much as I hate to disrupt this game of one-upmanship, I’m sure Jarand is anxious to return to his troops and begin his long trip back to Montraya.”

Ancient Oak frowned and looked from one royal brother to the other, “So, what have we gained from all this? Are we any further forward?”

“I think so,” answered Tarkyn, looking at Jarand. “We now know that Jarand and Journeyman are the only people from the encampment who know about woodfolk and that they want to keep it that way in case they can enlist our help at some time in the future. They also know about the oath.” Tarkyn did not go into any detail about the deficits in their knowledge.

“For my part,” continued Jarand, “I now know that Tarkyn is not a rogue sorcerer and that my press gangs are making me unpopular. So, since that is counter-productive to my purpose, I may have to modify their behaviour. I have also discovered the presence of two adopted brothers and an adopted niece, none of whom, I hasten to add, has a legitimate claim to the throne, even if all three of us, Kosar, Tarkyn and I, should die. That being the case, I can acknowledge our relationship with some degree of equanimity but strictly, of course, within the forest.” Jarand gave a condescending smile, “Obviously, I could not possible countenance it beyond, once I leave this fairytale nightmare to return to reality.”

Jarand gathered the reins and as Ancient Oak moved out of the way, swung himself into the saddle. He looked down on them all and continued, “I now have the rumours of a secret army under Tarkyn confirmed but, having met some of you and gauged your calibre, I am not as concerned as I was previously, nor as anxious to recruit you to my cause.”

Waterstone stepped forward and gave an ironic bow, “Your lack of courtesy is breathtaking compared to ours. For our part, it is of great interest to us to meet someone so wholly lacking in moral fibre that he could betray his own brother. But at least you kept your word not to attack us.”

Jarand raised his eyebrows haughtily, “Of course I did. Mind you, I would have been a fool to attack you when I was so heavily outnumbered.” He turned his attention to Tarkyn, “Now, are you going to release my men? Poor Danton will soon tire of holding his shield over so many, won’t he?”

Tarkyn flicked him a querying glance then answered his own question, “You recognised the colour of his magic, didn’t you? Yes, I had better rescue him soon. I will walk you back. Do I have your word that you will leave us in peace and return to Montraya?” asked Tarkyn.

Jarand nodded shortly, “To quote you, ‘At this time and in this place’, you have my word. Beyond that, I will make no undertakings.”

“No more will I,” countered Tarkyn.

When they returned to Jarand’s troops, Tarkyn sent Danton a message via Rainstorm to change the shield from a dome over the ranks of horses to a wall between the troops and the three at the front of the column. Then he released the horses and waited until Jarand had ordered their return to Montraya before allowing Danton to drop his shield altogether.

As the troops manoeuvred their horses around in the tight space, Tarkyn asked, “Before you go, Jarand, perhaps you would be kind enough to introduce me to your companions.”

Jarand raised his eyebrows in surprise, but complied with formal courtesy, “Tarkyn Tamadil, Prince of Eskuzor, let me introduce you to Captain Harkell of the Royal Montrayan Guard and Greyskies Swampwatcher, wizard of these parts.”

“It is an honour, Your Highness,” murmured the wizard and the captain, both bowing from their seated positions.

“Captain Harkell, you will find the two soldiers of your vanguard back down the road a little and may retrieve them on your way past. Because they are unconscious, we have tied them to their horses but they will recover shortly and you may then do with them as you will.” Tarkyn smiled gently at them, “I beg your pardon for your wasted journey. But unfortunately, I am unwilling to return with you. I wish you a safe journey back.”

With which, the fugitive prince turned on his heel and, still within his shield, walked back down the road without a backward glance.