The Dark-Eyed Shaman

Chapter 2

2

As soon as Maud left, Gavin sprang into action. He bid farewell to old Cyrus, promising to visit again soon, then ran down the stairs of the tower until his knees threatened to give way and he had to slow to a walk. Once down, he walked to his bed chamber and had an extensive and not altogether harmonious discussion with his valet about the attire he required for his upcoming stay in the forest. He was actually unsure himself about how casually he should dress. After all, he would be there in an official capacity, with all those present waiting on his decisions. But, on the other hand, he had to make sure he wore clothes that were comfortable and practical enough for a night or two camping the forest. And from what Maud had said, everyone else would be wearing very casual wear, and he didn’t want to appear incongruous by overdressing. Then there was the matter of a crown or even just a thin band to denote his status. No, he decided. Everyone would know who he was.

Gavin drew a breath, eyed his disapproving valet who was waiting with withering patience beside the wardrobe for his decision, and realised he was nervous about this upcoming meeting. He would have to deal with people from three nations, four, if you counted the woodfolk as a nation, all without his usual bevy of advisors and hangers-on. Maud and Sheldrake would be there, but still… Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to go.

But he had.

He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulders, and smiled at his own temerity. “Neville, please don’t glower at me. I need your help. I have to leave in about two hours. Let me tell you who will be there, why, and under what conditions.” He wasn’t going to tell Neville about the woodfolk, but he would sketch the sort of life they led and describe the others.

Little did he know, but his smile had completely disarmed his stiff-necked valet, even before his admission that he needed help. From then on, Neville eschewed his normal strict adherence to Royal Sartorial Expectations and actually listened to what Gavin was saying.

Once he was dressed in a plain tan ensemble with no lace, practical pockets and soft leather boots, Gavin asked for a picnic table to be set up on the lawn close to the reeds, not so close that he would disturb the swans but close enough that he would become aware of Tarkyn’s arrival. He ordered a pot of coffee for himself and a jug of iced water, to be replenished periodically with more ice, and various small, tasty snacks that might tempt a someone who was recovering from nausea. He sat down at the table with writing implements and his diary, to make sure he did not leave chaos behind him. He was, after all, a methodical, caring king.

Once he was clear about possible issues as he saw them, he sent a footman to invite Josie to join him and to bring an extra cup.

When she arrived, he began, as promised, by giving her an edited version of the events that Maud had described. Then they spent half an hour going through his schedule for the next two days before Josie left to organise the changes that would be needed. He had not yet explained to her that he would be heading off into the forest, only that he would be otherwise occupied.

It was after midday before anything happened. Gavin had eaten several of the assortment of snacks as lunchtime came and went, and he had worked his way through another pot of coffee. Judging by the way his jaw kept clenching, he was beginning to think the extra pot of coffee, on top of what he had already consumed with Maud, had been a bad idea. Still, it might just be the tension of waiting.

He’d just decided he might stand up and take a turn around the lawn to ease his growing stiffness when he heard a thud and a low groan issuing from the reeds. Restraining himself from rushing in, he granted Tarkyn a few minutes’ grace before calling softly, “Lord Tarkyn? Is that you? When you are ready, follow the sound of my voice. I have chilled water waiting for you.”

“Of course it’s me. Who else did you think it would be?… Sorry.” After a lot of rustling, the voice came again. “How do I get out of these b****y reeds?”

Gavin gave a low laugh and stepped forward to hold the nearest pair of bulrushes apart, expecting to find Tarkyn behind them. Instead, he heard splashing and quiet cursing. He manoeuvred his way into the reeds to be confronted by the sight of Tarkyn up to his ankles in water, completely disoriented and headed away from him towards the lake and the nearby swan’s nest.

Gavin suppressed a chuckle and called quietly, “This way. Turn around. I’m right behind you.”

Tarkyn turned and frowned fiercely at him. “And you can wipe that grin off your face. Navigation is not my best suit, not at any time, let alone when I’m feeling sick and in a strange place.” He clambered out of the water and stood with his hands on his hips, green slime, mud, and water trickling down the lower part of his legs. Slowly a grin spread over his face. “You are being most forgiving of my crankiness. You have no idea how much grief I get from the woodfolk for my atrocious sense of direction. Lapping Water is continually amazed and amused by my ineptitude. She will be delighted to hear of my latest effort.” He looked down at his sodden boots and trouser legs, then up at the cloudless sky. “Oh well. They will dry soon enough.” He gave a sudden shudder. “Ah. Well, at least that’s over for now. I’m beginning to feel better. Chilled water, did you say?”

When they exited the reeds onto the lawn, Tarkyn noticed two guards on either end of the terrace and several on the ramparts above, with their arrows trained on him. He looked at Gavin and raised his eyebrows.

Gavin shrugged. “Best I could do, I’m afraid. Their preference was to dog my footsteps and stand just at the edge of the reeds, ready to pounce on you as you emerged.” Gavin gave them a hand signal that caused them all to stand down. As soon as the king and the high lord reached the table and took seats, Gavin poured a glass of water for Tarkyn and indicated the food platters that had recently been refreshed. “For you, if or when you are hungry.”

Tarkyn nodded his thanks and took a long draught before saying, “I’m not surprised your guards are overprotective, after what happened.” He lowered his voice. “Have you told them of your plans to come with me, unguarded, into the forest?”

“I have left a note.” Gavin gave a small smile. “I don’t like having arguments I may not win, when I am determined for the outcome to go my way.”

Tarkyn smiled in return, not for a moment considering it a sign of weakness that the king was avoiding a confrontation with his guards. “After all, it is their duty to protect you, and protocol dictates that you should be guarded at all times, so you don’t stand much chance of winning that argument.” He took another draught of water. “Aah. That’s better. Any chance of a coffee while I’m here. We have a variety of teas in the forest but no coffee.”

Gavin raised his hand, and a footman came running, took the order, and left. He was not particularly surprised when he saw the coffee tray being borne by Josie, rather than one of her underlings.

“Good afternoon, Josie,” said Gavin, his eyes twinkling at her ill-concealed curiosity. “I believe you have met High Lord Tarkyn. As you know, he and I hold the same rank, more or less, in our respective countries.”

Josie dropped a curtsey to Tarkyn, “How do you do, Sire? A very unorthodox mode of arrival, might I say?”

“Lord Tarkyn and I will be spending the next day or two together.”

Without allowing her eyes to travel over the men’s attire, she said, “I gather this is an informal visit, Sire?” While she was speaking, she emptied the tray of a coffee pot and two fresh cups, a jug of milk, and a small bowl of sugar.

Gavin nodded his thanks. “Yes and no. Matters have arisen from the a*******n of Sasha and Jayhan that I need to resolve.” He took a deep breath, knowing he was about to outrage his steward. He handed her an envelope. “Here are written instructions. But basically, Lord Tarkyn and I will be absent for a couple of days while I travel into the forest with him, using translocation.” He had limited knowledge of magic, so he glanced at Tarkyn to make sure he had used the term correctly. Tarkyn gave a tiny nod. “I will take no guards from here, but a squad of my troopers awaits us at the other end. I plan to return sometime on the day after tomorrow,” he turned to Tarkyn, “if that is convenient to you?”

Josie’s mouth pinched as she took in his words and both men braced themselves for her next utterance but instead, she smiled. “Sire, I think a short adven… sojourn away would do you the world of good. Your role dictates that you must be so serious, so much of the time, and we wouldn’t want your eyes to lose their twinkle.” A faint flush rose in Gavin’s cheeks, which made Josie’s smile broaden. “I can see you’ve already worked your way around Neville, Sire.”

At Tarkyn’s look of enquiry, Gavin said shortly. “My valet.”

“And what about Captain Bryant?” asked Josie.

“You will find a letter for him in the envelope I have just given you.”

“Very wise, Sire.”

A small grin of understanding passed between king and steward.

“Have I covered everything, Josie?”

“I don’t suppose you could take a carrier pigeon with you, could you, Sire?”

Gavin glanced at Tarkyn who shook his head and replied, “No. It would be convenient for us, but I am pushing my powers to take another person with me. So I don’t want to jeopardize the two of us by straining my powers even further. We’ll get word to you if we need to.”

“And when do you intend to leave?” asked Josie.

“As soon as Tarkyn has recovered, I think.”

Tarkyn smiled at her. “In half an hour or so. That should give me time to enjoy your excellent coffee and these lovely little delicacies. And it is a pleasant change to sit in manicured gardens. This is a beautiful area you have here.”

“It is, Sire,” Josie took a deep breath, and they could see she was finding it hard to depart. “Look after him, Lord Tarkyn,” she said in a rush, then bobbed a curtsy and walked briskly away across the lawn before he could reply.