The Wizard's Curse (Book 2)

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The Wizard's Curse (Book 2) Page 7

by Jenny Ealey


  Tarkyn raised anguished eyes and gasped, “Thunder Storm, the shields. Make sure they put the shields up.” For a few moments, Tarkyn was swamped by the suffering of the living creatures being burnt in the fire. Their agony was short lived and soon, grim-faced, he was able to straighten up, as though pushing against a heavy weight. He shuddered, “I have to block them out. There’s nothing I can do to save them but at least I can make sure the rest of the forest is kept safe.

  Tarkyn shed his blanket and shivered right up and down his body as the night air touched his bare skin. “Quick, where’s my shirt?” he demanded, keeping his mind firmly on the upcoming task.

  “It’s wet, prince,” said Rainstorm, arriving with a cloak. “Here. Put this on until the fire dries your shirt.”

  “Thanks.” Tarkyn drew himself up and unconsciously squared his shoulders as he prepared himself to face once more the horror of the grey parasites. Ripples of trepidation, quickly swamped by a wave of determination, flowed out across the clearing. The woodfolk all stopped what they were doing to look across at their Forest Guardian. They called out words of encouragement and several came to pat him on the shoulder and reassure him. Tarkyn frowned a little at this flurry of reactions. Then he looked sideways at Rainstorm and raised his eyebrows in query.

  Rainstorm laughed, “Yep, prince. You’ve done it again.”

  Tarkyn rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though his face was still drawn. “Oh my stars! I’d have been laughed out of court if this had happened in Tormadell. I am a constant embarrassment to myself.”

  “I don’t think so, my lord,” said Thunder Storm kindly. “Only a fool would face this threat without fear.”

  “Thank you, Thunder Storm,” the prince responded gravely even though a faint smile lurked at the back of his eyes. He took a deep breath. “So. Now that the core of the infected trees is burning, we’d better get started. Perhaps I can send my attack in a circle around the burning trees from one position. I’ll try that. It will be quicker.”

  Tarkyn walked over to an elm whose branches were withering on the side nearest the fire. He looked around. “Right. Everyone who is helping with this, stand around close to me but don’t touch me in case something goes wrong and I become re-infected. Do the same as before. Think about the destruction and your anger about it.” He waited for everyone to prepare themselves. “Ready? Here goes.”

  Tarkyn drew up a barrier around himself and then placed his palm on the trunk of the ailing tree. Immediately, he tuned into the tree’s suffering and felt the parasites swarming from the branches towards the centre of the tree. As his power connected with the tree, the parasites changed course and headed down towards him. Drawing in the woodfolk’s and his own rage at the destruction that was being wrought, Tarkyn gathered his strength into an unassailable ball of fury. When the kernel of his rage was quivering with contained energy, he unleashed it into the tree against the waves of grey parasites. His released power tore through the branches of the elm, frying the formless grey invaders as it passed. He tuned into the parasites and followed their trail out along the elm’s branches in to the next tree. His fury sought them out and obliterated them as it swept through tree after tree in the circle around the fire. Where his power met the fire burning in the dead trees in the centre, huge fountains of bronze sparks sprayed up into the air. Those woodfolk watching from further away could see the progress of the purging; the forest guardian’s power spitting against the fire as it sizzled its way around its periphery, showering them with flashes of bronze light. A short time later, the bronze fountain had made a full circumference and fizzled out above the damaged elm where it has started.

  Still, Tarkyn remained in position. Without opening his eyes, he said, “Thanks everyone. Enough.”

  Now he sent out a wave of healing through the damaged trees. Tarkyn did not have the reservoir of strength needed to repair so many trees but he could at least ease their suffering and cool their burning. In time, they would heal themselves.

  As the fire raged in the central cluster of trees, Stormaway threw up a curved green shield around the core of burning trees and nodded to Danton to do the same. A sheet of aqua rose on the other side of the fire and between them, the wizard and the sorcerer contained the fire as it burned itself out.

  When the last flames had died away, the woodfolk, the wizard and the two sorcerers stood looking at the black, smoking ruins of a full copse of old trees. Beyond the black ring, many trees were half burnt and many more had lost branches or had been smashed by the wrathful winds of the oath’s betrayal. Everyone’s faces were bleak with loss.

  Chapter 6

  Suddenly Tarkyn and the woodfolk raised their heads in alarm as urgent messages came through from the lookouts.

  “Men on horseback coming this way fast. The wolves are with them,” reported Waterstone. “We have to go. Hurry!”

  While the silence of mindlinked organising ensued amongst the woodfolk, Tarkyn gave out his own instructions. “Danton, Stormaway. You will have to transport Rushwind. Go now. Head south. Don’t let her touch anything living; trees, people, animals or bushes. If you have to, take it in turns to hold her up so that you can levitate yourselves up off the ground. Then raise her above the height of the trees out of sight. Don’t worry about getting far away. Just make sure you’re hidden. We need one of the woodfolk to go with you to hit her with a slingshot if she starts coming to. Otherwise she may give away your position to the soldiers.”

  “I’ll go,” offered Lapping Water as she swung herself into a tree.

  “Thanks.Maya liefka” Tarkyn levitated himself for several hundred yards and then found a large, well-covered pine to hide in. When he was settled, he sent a request for Waterstone to join him. When the woodman arrived, he had brought Sparrow and Autumn Leaves with him.

  “Good. Now you can tell me what all the woodfolk are doing.”

  “Might I suggest, Tarkyn, that you hide on the side of the tree facing away from the fire. It’s more important to be hidden than to see what the soldiers are doing when they arrive.”

  Tarkyn gave a wry smile as he nodded agreement and moved his position accordingly. When he was re-settled, he leaned forward and whispered, “Hi Sparrow. Are you all right?”

  Although the little girl nodded, one look at her face was enough to tell him she wasn’t.

  “Hug?” he asked. She nodded and he wrapped his arm around her as she snuggled up against him in the crook of the tree’s branches. “And you, Autumn Leaves? How are you?”

  In contrast to Waterstone and Sparrow, the heavy woodman was puffing and beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead. He grimaced, “I’ve been better. My head is not taking kindly to me swinging through the branches and jumping from one tree to the next.”

  “Come here then. Let me give you a bit of life force. We need you well enough to evade these huntsmen.”

  Autumn Leaves frowned and stayed out of reach. “I can’t let you do that. You’re too drained yourself.”

  “No, I’m not. I didn’t use that much power, you know. It’s just that what I did use was very concentrated.”

  “What about healing the trees afterwards?”

  Tarkyn shrugged, “I did use some then but not all of it. It would have been pointless to try to heal them. I don’t have enough power for so many trees. So I did what I could to soothe the trees and then pulled out. Anyway, I can just draw straight from this tree now. So it’s not going to drain me, is it?”

  Autumn Leaves shook his head reluctantly. “No. I suppose not.”

  Tarkyn frowned and asked gently, “What’s wrong? You don’t want me to do it, do you?” When Autumn Leaves didn’t answer, Tarkyn glanced across at Waterstone.

  Waterstone went out of focus, as did Autumn Leaves. After a couple of minutes, neither of them had spoken out loud but Autumn Leaves had turned red and was looking angry. Waterstone wasn’t looking much calmer.

  “Wonderful!” said Tarkyn quietly to Sparrow. “A complet
ely silent argument. How very novel.”

  Sparrow smiled and rolled her eyes in response. “Trust them to get into an argument right now when we need them.”

  “Yes. Quite.” Tarkyn leaned forward. “Ahem…. In case you’d forgotten, any minute, the ground below us will be littered with huntsmen and wolves. Autumn Leaves, if you don’t want my help, don’t have it. But just make sure you can keep up. I don’t want you endangering yourself or anyone else for whatever reason is holding you back.”

  Autumn Leaves let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks Tarkyn. I will take it now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sorry?” Tarkyn was totally confused.

  “When you were so determined to help me, I suddenly got worried that it might be the illness trying to infect me through you. And also, well, to be honest, the intense way you’ve been throwing your power around is a bit unnerving.”

  A little wave of irritation leaked from Tarkyn, even though he produced a wry smile. “Horses for courses, Autumn Leaves. You yourself can be gentle or strong, depending on the need. So too can my power.” He shrugged, “And in case you hadn’t noticed, it takes me a greater effort to come up with an intense blast of power. So you’d know if one was coming.”

  Autumn Leaves raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Good point.”

  Now they could hear hoofbeats and the sounds of people or animals crashing through the undergrowth.

  “Just a minute,” said Tarkyn, “Protect my back while I concentrate for a few minutes. Autumn Leaves, you’ll have to wait.” So saying, Tarkyn closed his eyes and let his mind roam through the pathways below until he contacted the lead horse. He nudged against her mind until she let him in. He filled her mind with images of arrows coming at the horses and fire licking at them as they entered the clearing below. He inserted another image of the horses wheeling and heading back to the encampment.

  Below, a little way off in the woods, pandemonium broke out. The horsemen began to shout and curse in frustration as their mounts suddenly slid to a halt and began to plunge and buck, wheeling around against the pull of their reins, to head homewards. Despite the determined and even cruel efforts of the riders, the horses would not go any further. The wolves slunk around them, whining and snarling, confused and frightened by the behaviour of the horses, occasionally yelping as one of them was slashed by a horse’s hoof.

  “Good start!” said Tarkyn with some satisfaction. “Everyone managing all right? Good. Back in a minute.” He closed his eyes again and this time sent his mind looking for the dominant, harsh mind of the lead wolf. Tarkyn nudged at the lead wolf’s mind but was thrown back by a savage thrust. Up in the branches, Tarkyn slewed sideways and nearly fell out of the tree.

  “Hold me,” he ordered peremptorily and returned to his self-appointed task without waiting for compliance. The Forest Guardian drew together his power and his belief in himself as sovereign lord of the forests and tried again, this time demanding entry into the wolf’s mind. The wolf brought his head around to stare at the distant presence, amber eyes meeting amber. This was not the gentle co-operation that Tarkyn requested of birds and other animals. This was one dominant male outfacing another. Tarkyn glared at the wolf, bringing to bear all the arrogance bequeathed to him by generations of rulers until the wolf whined and backed down, acknowledging Tarkyn’s power and his right to dominion as guardian of the forest. Still Tarkyn did not relent. He sent an image to the wolf of the wizard’s apprentice and pictured Journeyman lying on the ground with Tarkyn’s foot on his neck. Then he sent another image of the wolves turning tail and fleeing through the forest until they were far from the encampment and the wiles of men.

  Tarkyn was brought back to his perch in the pine tree by an urgent tug on his cloak. “Tarkyn. The wolves are right under us,” whispered Waterstone.

  Tarkyn gave a relaxed, rather self-satisfied smile. “So they are. You can bid them farewell, if you like. They won’t be troubling us again for a while.” He sent out a wave of approval to the wolves as they loped underneath. The largest of them, a huge, shaggy male, lagged behind and when the others were out of sight, waited at the bottom of their pine tree, taking short paces back and forth beneath them. Autumn Leaves drew his bow.

  “No. Tell everyone. Don’t shoot. I’m going down.” He disentangled himself from Sparrow and floated gently down to land before the wolf.

  The wolf stopped pacing and stood staring up at him. After a moment, he sat down. In response Tarkyn squatted down in front of him and held out his hand. The wolf sniffed it carefully. Almost experimentally, a deep growl emanated from the wolf, and he bared his teeth. Without even tensing, Tarkyn quietly incanted, “Shturrum.” The frozen wolf then had to endure while Tarkyn stroked him gently but firmly. Somehow, although it was gentle, the stroking was filled with menace. When the sorcerer waved his hand and released the spell, the wolf no longer growled but trembled under Tarkyn’s hand. Two pairs of amber eyes met and held, but the wolf looked away first.

  The sorcerer stood up. “You may go,” he said, but it was the wave of his hand and the transmitted image that gave the wolf his orders. The wolf turned and loped quickly off down the trail of his companions, tail held low against his legs.

  Tarkyn looked up into the tree. “You can come down now.”

  In true woodfolk fashion, woodfolk appeared around him almost instantaneously from every direction. There was an awed silence.

  Eventually, Rainstorm cleared his throat and said, “Now let me see if I have this right? You have just single-handedly thrust the entire hunting party into mayhem and overturned the trainer’s control of the wolves. You then released the wolves back into the wild…. and, unless I’m much mistaken, completely subjugated their leader. Does that sum it up?”

  Tarkyn nodded with a smile. “I thought it might be worth trying to control the animals to prevent the sorcerers from attacking us. And I think fighting those parasites has given me practice in making use of that natural arrogance of mine that you all love so much. That lead wolf was no pushover, you know. That was our second confrontation when he came and waited for me under the pine.”

  “What happened in the first? Did you win?”

  “Yes, the first was a battle of the minds. But obviously he needed to check me out in person.” Tarkyn gave a little shrug, “I think he understands now that he lives or dies by my grace.”

  “Stars above, Tarkyn!” Rainstorm looked a bit sick, “I didn’t realise you were so ruthless.”

  Unconsciously the woodfolk had all drawn back from him. Tarkyn flicked a glance around them all. “No. Please don’t do this. Don’t withdraw. I’m not that ruthless. He is. He only understands things in black and white. There are no half measures. Either I totally dominate him or vice versa. Nothing in between. One of us has to hold the other’s life in his hands. That’s how he works. If it had been the other way around, he would either have killed me or mauled me so badly that I could no longer pose a threat.”

  Waterstone nodded and said spuriously, “You’re absolutely right. He got off lightly, didn’t he, only having his spirit broken?”

  Tarkyn shot him a hurt look but Waterstone was carefully looking elsewhere. It was fast dawning on Tarkyn that unbridled displays of his power were isolating him from the woodfolk, even though he was using his power for their benefit. First Autumn Leaves. Now Rainstorm and Waterstone. He thought over the tasks ahead of him; healing Golden Toad and Ibis Winds and then trying to find a way to salvage Rushwind. He wondered whether, if Rushwind should die, the woodfolk would lay the blame at his door. On the whole, he was inclined to think they would. Tarkyn decided to sort out the infection as quickly as possible and then withdraw for a while.

  Tarkyn gave a mental shrug and asked in a business-like tone of voice, “Golden Toad, could you come with me please? I need to speak with you alone.”

  Throwing an anxious glance over his shoulder, Golden Toad followed the prince. Once they were out of earshot but not out of sight, Tarkyn turned and said, his v
oice edged with bitterness, “I won’t take you right away from everyone because I would not wish to frighten you.”

  Golden Toad put his head on one side and regarded the prince for a few quiet moments. “They’ve upset you, haven’t they?”

  “Yes,” replied Tarkyn, remorselessly honest, “But I can’t see that it is any concern of yours. It is just something I have to live with.”

  “I think it is every concern of mine. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been trying to help me and my family.”

  Tarkyn eyed him, “It’s not your fault. The same thing would have happened sooner or later. Everyone is scared of my power and consequently, of me. When I don’t use it, they gradually forget about it. But I’ve used it excessively tonight, firstly against the infection and then against the wolves and huntsmen.” Tarkyn turned and slammed the heel of his hand into the nearest tree. “Blast them all! If I wasn’t trying to protect them, I wouldn’t have to use it in the first place. Once I have sorted out this infection, I’ll leave them to protect themselves for a while. They have managed without me for hundreds of years. I’m probably taking too much upon myself.”

  “Perhaps you are. After all, woodfolk have been hiding from hunters for centuries. You may have seen it as more of a crisis than they did.” Golden Toad smiled, “But personally, I think it was a good move to take the wolves out of the equation.” The woodman looked as though he were about to say something but then refrained.

  Tarkyn’s eyes narrowed, “Come on. Out with it. Whatever you were going to say.”

  Golden Toad’s eyes met the prince’s squarely. “Hmm. I was thinking of saying, before wisdom became the better part of valour, that you could possibly have found a less inflammatory turn of phrase for describing your subjugation of the wolf.”

  Suddenly Tarkyn smiled. “You know, Golden Toad, I think I will have to make you an honorary member of the home guard if anyone else is still in it after tonight. You combine honesty and courage in full measure, especially after your experiences.” The prince ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right, of course. The feeling wasn’t good from the beginning but things took a notable turn for the worse after that, despite my efforts to explain.”

 

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