by Jenny Ealey
“Not as effectively.” He glanced at Tree Wind, “I’m not saying they didn’t care for their friends but there were always two of them to egg each other on. So they were more likely to get carried away. Whereas there was only one of me surrounded by people with a vested interest in controlling my behaviour.”
Waterstone studied Tarkyn as he thought about it.
“What?” asked Tarkyn eventually.
“That first night you drank with us in the forest, the night we discovered you were the Forest Guardian and the night you became a woodman. They must be about the only times you’ve ever been close to drunk.”
Tarkyn smiled. “Yet another reason I drank so much that first night with you. Finding out about the oath and how much you all hated me. Seeing my father in your memories, Tree Wind. And having no one charged with keeping me sober. I haven’t had much practice at learning my own limits.”
“You had weeks away from your minders on the way to the forest after you were exiled,” pointed out Tree Wind.
Tarkyn raised his eyebrows, “I was not so desperate to get drunk that I would risk being out of control when I was on the run. That first night with you people was the first time I had felt even vaguely safe for quite some time.”
Waterstone frowned across at Danton. “No wonder you were unsure whether you could trust Danton. Because even though he professed to be your friend, you always knew that he was accountable to someone else.”
Tarkyn nodded. “Everyone’s first loyalty must be to the King.”
“Which, if Danton’s friend is the local blacksmith or farmer, wouldn’t matter two hoots,” said Tree Wind. “But does matter if his friend is the King’s younger brother.”
Waterstone frowned, “So was there anyone you could trust to keep your secrets?”
Tarkyn thought carefully. The silence drew out. A couple of times, he nearly spoke but thought better of it. Eventually, he raised his eyes to look at Waterstone. “There have been some people who have overlooked small misdemeanours on my part, like pinching apples from the trees in the orchard or feeding the horses when I was supposed to be studying. Things like that. But had they been asked directly, I would have expected them to give me away.” He shook his head. “So, no. The answer to your question is no. There has never been anyone I could trust, including Danton.”
“So it wasn’t just the vying for power in court that caused you to mistrust people, was it?”
“No, although it is all part of the same thing. Everything anyone has ever done around me has been with the King in mind, in one way or another.” Tarkyn shrugged, “It’s not as bad as it sounds. After all, we all understood the rules. I always knew everything I said or did would get back to Kosar. No one was acting without my knowledge. So I just behaved as I would have if he were there watching all the time.”
“You’re well out of it, I’d say,” said Tree Wind caustically.
“Despite the loss of all those luxuries I was used to, I would have to agree with you.” Tarkyn broke off as Waterstone stood up. “Where are you off to so suddenly? I hope you’re not taking that flagon with you.”
“No. You can have it.” Waterstone refilled his cup before handing the flagon to Tarkyn. “Tree Wind, you might have to keep an eye on our young friend here if he is to have any hope of getting up early tomorrow. I’m off to have a chat with Danton. I’ll see you later.”
Chapter 9
Waterstone skirted around the fire gently brushing off several invitations for him to join in various conversations until he reached the young sorcerer. Danton stood out from everyone around the fire. He was the only person with blond hair and the only person wearing blue robes. Other than Stormaway who wore green, everyone else was clothed in a soft brown that blended into the backdrop of tree trunks and branches.
Waterstone sat down with his back against a recently vacated tree trunk. “I’ve just been talking to your liege lord over there.” The woodman noticed that he still couldn’t bring himself to sayour liege lord. “You lot had a very strange way of getting on with each other, didn’t you?”
Danton eyed him askance. “You could hardly expect me to think it’s strange if it’s what we always did and secondly, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Enjoying the wine then?” Waterstone laughed. “Hmm, I don’t think I made myself very clear, now that I think about it.” He took a sip from his goblet and frowned, “How could you call it friendship when you were really just an agent for Tarkyn’s brother?”
Danton’s eyes glittered and his hands balled into fists. “Do you know,” he said in a low shaking voice, “the only thing stopping me from belting the living daylights out of you at this moment is that, whether you accept it or not, I acknowledge you as a prince of the realm.”
Waterstone blinked. “Danton, you are really a most unusual person. I find you much more difficult to fathom than Tarkyn.” He realised that Danton was still wired up, ready to strike and so waved a placatory hand. “I apologise, Danton. I didn’t really mean to offend you. Although, to be honest, I findmyself offended by what I hear of your behaviour.”
“Just be glad,” said Danton through gritted teeth, not surprisingly quite unappeased by this, “that I have had years of discipline as a palace guard or you would be out cold by now.”
Waterstone raised his eyebrows but forbore to enter into a game of one-up-manship, asking instead, “So, explain it to me, Danton. How can you be someone’s friend and yet report all his actions to the King?”
Danton frowned at him as he let the question sink in. “Because until recently, we were all on the same side. I saw myself as looking after Tarkyn on the King’s behalf. We all saw it as our duty to protect the prince and make sure that protocols were observed by anyone coming into contact with him.”
“But didn’t you report back to the King on Tarkyn’s behaviour?”
“We were quizzed on it from time to time, certainly. Usually by Barnaban, the King’s minister for security. But I thought of that as everyone working together to make sure Tarkyn was kept safe.” Danton shrugged, “Anyway, there would have been little point in trying to cover anything up because Barnaban had other sources. Saying that, if Tarkyn had ever asked me to cover for him, I would have. He just never asked.” A thought struck him. “Anyway, I bet you lot report back to each other on what he’s doing. Doesn’t mean you’re not his friends.”
“Hmph. That’s different,” Waterstone’s words didn’t carry much conviction.
Danton merely raised his eyebrows and waited.
The woodman waved a hand. “Fine. So it’s not all that different.”
“No. And as soon as I knew that the King had turned on Tarkyn, I left his service and set out to find Tarkyn.”
Waterstone nodded slowly, “You did, too.” He smiled apologetically, “Looks like I’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion about you again. Sorry about that.” He took another draught of his wine and said confidingly, “It’s the sorcerer thing, you know. I just thought you must have a different concept of friendship.”
Danton looked at him for a few moments without speaking. Then he said, “Next time you are offended by my behaviour, make sure you talk to me about it, just as you have now. I really don’t want to find myself tied up any more times than I absolutely have to.”
Waterstone grinned. “Deal. And if, in return, you can talk to me about any of our behaviour you find offensive, we should be able to navigate our way through our differences without too much conflict.” He paused, “Anything on your mind at the moment, now we’re on the topic?”
Danton shook his head ruefully. “Nothing in particular but everything in general. But you already know what I think of the way everyone treats Prince Tarkyn. The lack of formal respect constantly offends me, but since the prince has ordered me to accept it, accept it I must.”
“Hmm. Not too much we can do about that.” Waterstone looked at Danton over the rim of his cup, “You see, it would offend and embarrass us if we ha
d to follow those protocols of yours.”
Danton gave his head a little shake. “How odd!” A thought struck him. “So, does it offend you whenI follow those protocols, such as bowing to the prince?”
“No.” The woodman eyed Danton before offering his next remark. “It astonishes us. We find it very interesting.”
“And amusing,” finished Danton dryly for him.
“Mmm. Afraid so. Not always, but sometimes. But we are too polite to show it, you know. And I wouldn’t have told you except that I have probably drunk too much.”
Danton gave a short embarrassed laugh. “And there I was, thinking I was leading by example.”
Waterstone became serious, “How you behave with the prince is none of our business. No one thought it amusing when you knelt before Tarkyn the other morning and told him he was the hope of Eskuzor. I think we were all moved by that. It was an impressive avowal of faith.”
Danton smiled with a hint of sadness, “I’m glad that you at least took that seriously.” He shrugged. “I can’t always help it, you know. Tarkyn has asked me to act more like you people do towards him. But I have a lifetime of training in royal etiquette to overcome. Any sign of disrespect would have been severely punished so it is pretty ingrained. Besides, as you know, I do respect him and I am proud to be of service to him. When I bow I am thanking him for the trust he places in me by allowing me to serve him.”
“Whoa. We have just spun off on different trajectories here,” exclaimed Waterstone, blinking in astonishment.
“Why? What do you mean?”
“You’re grateful for being able to serve Tarkyn? I can’t even begin to grasp that concept. We all resent it like blazes.”
Danton shot upright, spilling his wine, beside himself with outrage. “How dare you? Are you not aware of the honour you have been accorded? To have the opportunity to be this close to the prince and to provide for him? Thousands of sorcerers throughout the country would do anything to have that chance.”
Waterstone was scathing. “What? Even now, when he has been exiled?”
“Yes. Even now. Have you no idea how great an honour it is to serve the son of forty-eight generation of kings? His life and wellbeing are beyond value.”
A spirit of wickedness engendered by the wine made Waterstone say, “Well, you were pretty quick to slough off Kosar, who is also the son of forty-eight generations of kings, not to mention being the present ki...”
A lightning fast fist to the jaw sent Waterstone flying over sideways. He sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw, and peered into the cup that was still clenched in his other hand. “Blast. Now you’ve spilt the rest of my wine.” He looked up at Danton and said dryly, “Looks like your court training has deserted you. But of course, I’m not the son of all those kings, am I, even if you do recognise me as a prince of the realm.”
Waterstone hadn’t really thought about what reaction he was expecting from this little gambit but what he received, astonished him.
Danton bowed his head, and clenched his hands together, white faced. In a shaking voice, he said, “Your Highness, I know it is too much to ask, but please forgive me. I throw myself on your mercy. Flog me if you will. I deserve nothing less, but please spare my life and I will serve you and Tarkyn faithfully to end of my days.”
Waterstone was horrified. He resisted the impulse to send for Tarkyn, realising that his presence might place him in a position where he would feel obliged to punish Danton. He glanced across the fire and sure enough, Tarkyn was watching him, frowning. Waterstone shook his head slightly and returned his attention to the distressed sorcerer. “Come with me,” he said shortly.
He stood up and waited only long enough for Danton to scramble to his feet before he headed off into the gloom of the forest. Once they were away from prying eyes and ears, Waterstone stopped and turned to face Danton who stood, taut with controlled fear, in front of him.
“Danton,” said Waterstone gently, “Put your mind at rest. Do not fear for your life and do not fear punishment.” He put his hand on the sorcerer’s tensed shoulder. “I do not wish to offend you but I could not accept your service. However, I would be honoured to accept your friendship and to work with you to support Tarkyn.”
“But Your Highness, I have attacked a member of the Royal Family. My life is forfeit. At the very least, I must make reparation.”
“Yes, you must,” came Tarkyn’s voice out of the gloom behind him, stone cold sober.
Chapter 10
Waterstone rolled his eyes, as the sorcerer spun around and sank to his knees. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid.
“Your Highness,” Waterstone began, realising that even though they were far from court, this was a time for titles, “I provoked Danton unfairly. If I had realised that his actions could lead to a punishment, I would never have done so.... and then I could not have had as free a discussion with him. Therefore, it would be to all our detriments if he were to be punished.”
“And yet, Waterstone, if I am to honour you as you have honoured me by accepting me into your family, then I must uphold your right to be treated as a member of the royal family.”
Waterstone grimaced, “I thought you’d think that. That’s why I brought Danton away from the firesite.”
“Hiding a person’s crime from me is coming perilously close to dishonouring the oath. Not worth risking the forest for, I would have thought.” Tarkyn did not sound angry, so much as sympathetic. He transferred his gaze to the kneeling sorcerer. “Stand up, Danton. You have placed me in a dilemma, my friend. Out of everyone around the firesite, only you and Stormaway are punishable for attacking Waterstone or Ancient Oak because it is only in the world of sorcerers and wizards that they should be recognised as princes. Within the woodfolk, there are no ranks with the exception of my own.”
The prince began to pace back and forth as he thought about his words. “I could argue that, because we are within the woodland, they need not be recognised as princes and therefore there is no crime. But I will not. It is not a geographical but a cultural distinction. Among sorcerers and wizards, they must be recognised wherever they are.”
“Do I get any say in this?” asked Waterstone.
“No,” said Tarkyn briefly, not even looking at him “This involves protocols that have been laid down for centuries. None of us has any say in it.”
“Well, what is the least punishment that can be given?” asked the woodman.
“In court? I have never known of anyone to lay a hand in anger on a member of the royal family and survive.” Tarkyn regarded him sternly. “They have always, without exception, been killed on the spot or been hanged within a few days.”
“But Tarkyn, I mean, Your Highness.” Waterstone ran his hand through his hair. “I remember you saying that if we had been at court you could not have saved me, and yet I am still here.”
“That was for only threatening me. You only actually laid a hand on me the second time when I had already given you permission. You have never actually hit me without my permission. However, Danton here knows that an adopted member of the royal family requires the same treatment as a natural member of the family, don’t you, Danton?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And that therefore your crime is punishable by death.”
“Yes, my lord. I do know that.” Danton’s tone was resigned. He brought his head up to look at the prince and said proudly, “I am sorry I have let you down, Your Highness. I said I would serve you all my life and I have. I had hoped I could have given you more than this short time. But my will is yours to command, now and always.”
Waterstone felt as though his heart was breaking. He couldn’t believe that events had moved so quickly. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and his legs shaking and wondered vaguely whether they would give out beneath him.
“Please, Your Highness. Is there nothing that can be done?” Waterstone’s voice sounded nowhere near as calm as Danton’s had. It was pitched high with str
ain.
“The Sovereign may grant clemency,” said Stormaway appearing suddenly in their midst.
“I am aware of that, Stormaway, but I am not sovereign lord of sorcerer and wizards,” objected the prince.
“No, my lord. You are not. But in the woodlands you are sovereign and although Watertsone’s right to be called a prince is not geographical, your sovereignty is.”
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “But even though I am liege lord of the woodfolk, surely Kosar is sovereign of the forests since they are part of the kingdom of Eskuzor.”
“Do you still give him your allegiance?” asked Stormaway.
“No,” answered Tarkyn firmly.
“Then neither the forests nor the woodfolk are beholden to King Kosar. Your father made you sovereign of both in your own right.” Stormaway shrugged and smiled. “Of course there is the slight issue that Kosar may not know this but I have in my possession papers drawn up under your father’s seal that verify it, should a dispute ever arise.”
During all this debate, Danton stood stolidly at attention, watching Tarkyn, his fate hanging in the balance.
Finally Tarkyn turned to his liegeman standing so rigidly before him. “Lord Danton. You have heard this discussion. I have now established, rather to my surprise, I must admit, that I am sovereign lord within these forests and so I may grant clemency if I so choose.However, I wish to ensure that Waterstone and Ancient Oak are not just paid lip service. I would not wish to treat a sorcerer’s crime against them any differently from a crime against me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I understood that right from the beginning.”
“And yet, Danton, I cannot imagine you ever coming close to hitting me.”
Danton looked profoundly shocked, “Of course not, my lord.”
“So you see, Danton, you have in factnot understood from the start what Waterstone is due or you would never have hit him.”
Danton bowed his head, “I stand corrected, my lord. However, once I realised what I had done, it was I who told Waterstone that my life was forfeit.”
“I see. I am pleased you did that. It shows that you respect Waterstone as you should, even if you have attacked him.”
