The Sorcerer's Oath - Books 1-2

Chapter 5-2

Stormaway smiled condescendingly. “Might I suggest that you are not used to being without a bevy of toadeaters and sycophants?”

The prince glared at him, “You would not say that of me if we were at court.”

“My point exactly.”

“That is not what I meant,” retorted Tarkyn hotly. The air around him shimmered with anger. Then suddenly, he gave a short laugh. “You’re deliberately goading me, aren’t you?” He looked at the unremarkable, tatty figure before him with dawning respect. “Despite what you say, you must be pretty sure of yourself to take that risk.”

“Oh, I get by,” replied the wizard airily. “So, will you deign to tell me your story?”

The prince stood up and towered over him for a moment, clearly annoyed. But then he merely turned and walked over to the woodpile. Between gathering dry branches into his arms, he looked over his shoulder and said, “I don’t know you well enough yet to know what I think of you, but you seem to have formed a very poor opinion of me.” He brought the branches across and fed them into the fire before he sat down again.

The wizard watched and waited.

“Not only that,” continued Tarkyn as he brushed the wood dust off his hands, “but having said that I could take my time deciding whether to tell you what happened, you are now trying to goad me into it…Why?”

The question hung on the night air for what seemed a long time. Then Stormaway leaned forward to adjust a burning branch and replied gravely, “Because I would trust you, my lord.”

Tarkyn was taken aback. After giving it some thought, he said slowly, “And I would value your trust, should I earn it. You say the rumours are bad but you may think the reality is little better. Still, I will tell you what happened and you must judge for yourself.”

He settled himself against the tree, drew his long legs up and rested his arms on his knees. Then he began.

“As you no doubt know, I have twin older brothers. One of them is king; the other would like to be. Kosar and Jarand have grown up in fierce competition with each other and their common ambition to assume the monarchy has overshadowed all other loyalties.”

The wizard frowned, “You have not been brought up in a moral household since your father died, then.”

Tarkyn threw an impatient glance at the wizard, “Stormaway, don’t judge my worth too hastily – and when you do, judge me on my own merits, not on my family’s.”

As Stormaway gave a short nod, Tarkyn continued, “The Harvest Festival was when it all went wrong.” He shifted his weight a little as he grimaced at the memories, “I think it might be about here that my tale will part company with the rumours…During the final bout, my shaft of power went slightly off target and damaged one of the wooden spectator stands. People jumped off in a panic as the stand sagged to one side but as soon as they could see it wasn’t going to collapse, they came back and sat down to watch the rest of the tournament.”

“That’s it?” demanded Stormaway.

Tarkyn gave a lop-sided smile. “The damage to the spectator stand is the only incident of any note that occurred during the tournament. More happened later of course, but I will come to that.

“Unfortunately, as you know, I won the whole tournament. I say unfortunately, because I gather it made my brothers realise how strong my magic had become and that I now have… or had, a following among the people. From what they said afterwards, they seem to have thought I might mount a challenge for the throne.” The prince shook his head in bewilderment, “But just because I possibly could, doesn’t mean that I would. The thought never entered my mind. I want nothing to do with the throne. All my life, I have watched the misery and anxiety caused by the manoeuvrings around the monarchy. I find even the peripheral intrigue of being the king’s brother enough to manage. I have never had any wish to become the focal point.”

Tarkyn ran his hand distractedly through his hair. “They didn’t even ask me my intentions.” He lapsed into silence, staring moodily into the fire. After a few minutes he stirred himself enough to glance up at Stormaway with a wry grimace, “Still, I suppose they wouldn’t have believed me anyway, once the idea was planted in their heads.”

Not wishing to stand up this time Tarkyn, with a flick of his wrist and a muttered “Liefka,” floated another branch onto the fire and when the branch was settled, he continued his story.

“For the first time in who knows how long, they acted in concert instead of vying with each other. They had me arrested late at night when no one was there to raise objections. I don’t know if you can understand how embarrassing it is to be arrested by Palace Guards whom you have known all your life?” He shrugged, “Hard for them, hard for me.” He waved a dismissive hand, “Anyway, because of the incident at the tournament, Kosar sentenced me to foreswear my power for four years, on pain of imprisonment.”

“What?” demanded Stormaway, incensed. “For misdirecting one blast in a tournament? If they were worried about it, they should have organised boundary shields.”

Tarkyn shrugged. “That’s what I said, but I realise now it was never about that. The twins just wanted me disarmed and that was their excuse.”

“So what did you do?”

“I couldn’t let them take my magic. It would have been like…I don’t know… losing my arm, being blinded, having my heart ripped out of me.”

Stormaway nodded sympathetically. “Totally barbaric, even to consider it.”

“So I defied the king and threw up my shield…” He trailed off and glanced uncertainly at Stormaway before clearing his throat, “Hmm. This may be the point where the rumours have a greater basis in truth…”

“Go on, Sire,” said the wizard gently, “I don’t have to agree with everything you’ve done, to be able to trust you.”

The prince grimaced, “I’m not sure how far that holds…. However… Basically, things spun out of control. I think perhaps the intensity of my emotions altered my shield’s composition. Instead of blocking, it reflected.

“If no one had attacked me, nothing would have happened. But one guard threw a bolt of magic at me and my shield reflected it straight back at him. Next thing I knew, every guard in the room was sending beams of power and arrows at me and coming at me with swords. They were all reflected back, knocking out guards and ricocheting around the walls.”

Tarkyn rubbed his hands up and over his face and down his hair, to hold his head with linked hands at the nape of his neck. He sighed, “I don’t know how many died that night. My brothers didn’t die. They left me to my fate. I saw them later in the palace. But many guards were killed or wounded.”

“So how did you escape?”

“As the building collapsed and the guards were running for their lives, I finally recovered my senses enough to use a re-summoning spell on my surcoat that took me to the tailor’s out in the town. And then, while everyone’s attention was still on the Great Hall, I went back to the palace and collected enough valuables to sustain me, at least for the foreseeable future.”

Seeing the speculative gleam in the wizard’s eyes, Tarkyn added hastily, “No. I’m not carrying them all with me, if that’s what you’re wondering.

The wizard smiled disarmingly. “Just trying to gauge your level of competence, Sire.”

Tarkyn grunted in self-deprecation, “It was not my competence. In fact, I heeded the advice of a thief, and went to some lengths to hide them.”

Stormaway blinked. “Not where he could find them, I hope?”

Tarkyn sent him a look of pure derision. Stormaway assumed he had received the look for stating the obvious, but in fact it was because he had cast aspersions on a thief whose honour Tarkyn trusted.

Stormaway hastily changed the subject, “And what about your friends? Did they help you?”

“I didn’t ask them,” replied the prince shortly. “I didn’t want to compromise anyone else’s safety. One life in tatters seemed plenty for one day without dragging my friends down with me.”

“Not to mention the guards,” added the wizard dryly.

“I did have some particular friends among the guards but none of them was there that day. So I wasn’t talking about them”

“Obviously.”

Tarkyn stopped short and stared at the wizard.

“You really don’t think much of me, do you?”

“On the contrary, Your Highness. I think more of you than I expected to.”

“Stars Above! The rumours must be bad then”

“They are.” Stormaway looked at him sympathetically, “But it’s obvious to me now that none of this was your fault. You were just the fall guy.”

The prince stared at him. “What? Weren’t you listening? I caused the death of all those guards and the destruction of the Great Hall. Something went wrong with my shield.”

“I wondered if you would see that,” said the wizard mildly.

“Oh, you condescending, old hedge-dweller!” exclaimed Tarkyn, outraged. He stood up abruptly and shook out his cloak. “I find,” he said icily, staring down at the wizard, “that I am no longer interested in gaining your trust. You hold me in such low regard that it would be pointless. Believe what you choose. There is no good version. But don’t bother telling me what you decide, because I am no longer interested.”

So saying, Tarkyn pulled his cloak around him and turned to stalk off into the night.

He found his way blocked by a slight, green-eyed man with light brown hair, dressed in a brown jerkin, loose-fitting leggings and soft leather boots. Tarkyn turned and realised that he was surrounded by similar figures. They looked harmless enough, but he wasn’t silly enough to believe appearances. A trap after all, he thought bitterly. Why did I trust a complete stranger when I can’t even trust my own brothers?

A trap after all, Why did I trust a complete stranger when I can’t even trust my own brothers?Fighting panic, he took a breath to slow his heart rate then flicked up his shield, hoping that calming himself first would make his shield absorbent and not reflective.

A deep voice rang out from behind him. “Woodfolk of the forest, you are right to appear before him. He has passed my final test.”

Tarkyn took a moment to recognise the wizard’s voice. He spun on his heel and beheld Stormaway exuding power, resplendent in emerald robes, brown hair smoothly spilling over his shoulders. As the prince watched, Stormaway raised his staff. But before he could bring it down, the sounds of the forest seemed to swell into a frenzied cacophony.

Tarkyn looked up into the trees in confusion. He could hear the sounds of wind blowing through the trees, water gushing over rocks, leaves and rain falling, thunder rumbling and a myriad of other sounds that should have accompanied the sight of a storm surging through the forest. But none of the trees moved.