Tarkyn whirled around to face the wizard, his long, black hair flying out behind him. “No, Stormaway. I can’t be.”
When the wizard made no reply, the prince pressed home his point. “I will not pit myself against the king. I have never wanted the throne. You know that. The intrigue would be more than I could stand.” He glanced around at the woodfolk who stood silently watching him. “Besides, I would not ask these people to go to war against my own brothers, especially when the countryside is littered with people who would turn me in for the price on my head.” Tarkyn scowled. “The whole concept is preposterous.”
The wizard shrugged. “I did not say you had to wrest the throne from your brother. I said you were the one true hope for Eskuzor. I do not know how the prophecy will evince itself.
