The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Kestrel friend, you sent us home once already, and then you needed us immediately afterwards. Are you sure you believe this is the right decision?” the imp leader asked.

  Kestrel craned his neck even more and peered beneath his blindfold at the glimmer of rosy light in the sky, the first sign of the approach of dawn. “Look, the sun is starting to rise. Today is the first day of winter. It is time for you to go and rest; you all have earned the right to do so. It is my command that you do so. I’ll feel better knowing that you are safe, so that on the first day of spring I can call you to come and join me in celebrating the happy new season.

  “Now go, all of you, go home, and tell Dewberry and Jonson that they are true friends to have shared all of you with me, and I look forward to having a celebration with them in Blackfriars someday,” he finished. He lowered his head, then felt an imp press lips against his cheek unexpectedly.

  “I hope that was Odare,” he said drily, causing all the imps to laugh.

  “Sshh,” Hierodule warned.

  “Farewell, Kestrel friend. We look forward to hearing you call us on the first day of spring,” Stillwater said.

  Kestrel stood still and listened. There was no further sound from the imps. They were gone, on their way back home as he wanted them to be, but with their departure he had cut himself off from any reliable ally, as he stood in the land of his enemies.

  Hierodule tugged on his sleeve. “Where have your friends gone?” she asked.

  Kestrel was silent, as he thought about the fact that he had isolated himself with only this woman.

  “I sent them home, so that they’ll be safe,” he said shortly. “Let’s get going. Do you have a plan, or do we just start to follow the river?”

  “I have a plan,” Hierodule answered. “Follow me; let’s get as far away from the temple as we can before there’s enough daylight for many people to be about.

  “Here, hold onto my robe,” she said seconds later as she took several steps, then turned to see Kestrel standing blindfolded where she had left him. She walked back to him and put the fabric of her robe in his hand, then starting walking away, pulling him along in her wake.

  “Would you watch where you’re walking!” she hissed as he stumbled over some debris at the mouth of the alley.

  “Do you really want to ask that, considering you’re the one who put this blindfold on me?” he hissed back in exasperation.

  “Ssshh! There’s a patrol up ahead. Come walk beside me; hold my hand,” she ordered in response, dropping back to grab his hand in hers and guiding him along the street side.

  Her palm was damp with perspiration, even though the air was chilly around them, and Kestrel wondered if she was nervous about the patrol that was approaching, or about being with him.

  Why had she tried to kill herself, he suddenly wondered. A woman ready to commit suicide was a woman with nothing to lose, nothing to prevent her from trying another suicidal maneuver such as betraying him to a passing patrol, he realized, and grew tense.

  He heard the sound of boots approaching, and waited to see what would happen.

  “Look at that! A blind man with a bow!” one of the approaching guards laughed when they were very close by. “I’ll bet he can shoot that thing better than you Permo,” he laughed at one of his companions.

  “Let me see it. I’ll show you how well I can shoot,” Permo replied.

  Kestrel sensed hands reaching for his bow, and he side-stepped away from the sound of the voices.

  “Oh ho, going to be shy, are we?” one voice said, and Kestrel saw the toes of a pair of boots as he felt a hand grab his bow and start to remove it.

  He was consumed by a protective need to maintain the bow, the gift from his goddess. He neither wanted it to be desecrated by the hands of the followers of Uniontown, nor did he want to be deprived of its marvelous abilities. He took a step back and launched a hard punch in the direction of the boots he had seen, then pulled his sword free with one hand, and released his grip on Hierodule as he pulled Lucretia from its sheath with his other hand. He tilted his head back slightly and spotted a second set of boots, and he stabbed his sword directly at the body above the feet, jabbing hard and extending his arm, feeling the satisfying shock of contact as his blade bit into the flesh on an opponent.

  “What the?” a voice shouted from his right.

  “What are you doing, fool?” he heard Hierodule shout on his left.

  He turned to his right, and glimpsed the boots of a third man there, and threw Lucretia at the man.

  “Are there any more of them Hierodule?” he asked urgently.

  “No, no,” she answered in a shaky voice. “You just managed to defeat a three man patrol without even seeing them.”

  “Lucretia, return,” he spoke to his knife. “Grab some of their arrows,” he ordered Hierodule.

  “We have to get away from here, now,” Hierodule said, her voice quavering. “Let’s go,” she told him and she grabbed his hand, then began to lead him away as rapidly as she could.

  “We could have been killed back there. You didn’t need to do that. All you had to do was let them take your bow and we would have been allowed to move on,” she lectured him a moment later. “Now the local patrol is going to be up in arms within the hour looking for us.”

  “I’m not going to let anyone take my bow,” Kestrel said firmly. “So just get us moving to someplace safe.”

  Hierodule grumbled under her breath, but said no more as she led Kestrel through the streets, past carts of food and goods going to market, and servants running their morning errands and shopping, few of whom paid attention to the beggarly pair that walked among them through the city. Kestrel held Hierodule’s hand, and stepped cautiously as he walked through the unfamiliar city. His ears strained to hear every sound that he could detect in every direction, and he sniffed the air continually for clues about their surroundings, noting when they passed markets or slums or other less obvious sources of odors.

  There was a jumble of people and sounds after several minutes, and Kestrel was jostled by other people. “What’s happening?” he asked.

  “We’re at the city gate, waiting to pass out of the city walls,” his guide answered impatiently. They slowly traveled a few steps, and then were suddenly in a different environment, with a light breeze, different sounds that didn’t echo, and no further physical contact with the other pedestrians Kestrel heard nearby.

  “Are we out of the city?” he asked for confirmation.

  “Yes, we’re on the river road, the one that goes all the way south to Uniontown,” Hierodule confirmed.

  Kestrel remained silent, listening to the sounds that were passing as they walked. There were cart wheels and occasional horses, a few birds in the air – mainly noisy gulls – and many people. There were many people walking, people with children, people who sounded in bad health, people who shuffled their feet.

  “Why are there so many people on the road?” he asked.

  “The masters have been destroying the villages and towns between here and Uniontown. They drive all the people out who can leave a village in a hurry, then the masters go in. After a few minutes a great fire starts and the master come out, and soon the village is just a pile of ashes,” Hierodule explained, her voice lowered, and using a tone that was less impatient, less assured that it had been before. Kestrel listened silently, then commented no further as he thought of the destruction the Viathins had imposed on the other lands they had occupied.

  “Where are we now, by a sewer?” he asked minutes later. He faintly heard the sound of his voice echo. “We are; we’re going into a sewer tunnel, aren’t we?” He reached up and pulled the blindfold off of his head to see where they were.

  They were standing on the bank of a large river, the Gamble River, flowing northward from Uniontown, he guessed. They were almost underneath a massive stone bridge, one of the largest structures he had ever seen, that soared high above the surface of the water.

  “Wher
e are we?” he repeated.

  “We’re under the Founders Bridge, and we’re looking for someone who can travel with us,” Hierodule replied.

  Kestrel looked at the surrounding vicinity. Besides the filthy water of the river, and scattered patches of high weeds, he saw only debris that had washed ashore in river floods, and a few unsavory men who watched them warily. He reached over and carefully removed the quiver of arrows from Hierodule’s shoulder.

  “Do you really think there’s someone here we need?” Kestrel asked with a note of sarcasm.

  “If he’s not here, we’re not going to find him anywhere,” Hierodule replied.

  “What can we do to help you and your friend, little lady? And I use that term loosely,” one of the vagrants called out as he appeared at the fringe of the tall weeds.

  “I’m looking for Hiram,” Hierodule answered. “Have you seen him?”

  The vagrant and another man came out of the weeds and walked towards Hierodule and Kestrel.

  “He usually stays further up river during the day,” the vagrant answered. “For a copper, we can take you right to him.”

  “We’ll go looking on our own,” Hierodule answered, and she led the wary Kestrel on, passing beneath the bridge and away from the two men.

  “You did well. You didn’t kill anyone this time,” Hierodule commended Kestrel. “Maybe you can learn to keep your weapons on your hip for a change.”

  “Those two weren’t threatening,” Kestrel commented. “I would have done what was needed if they seemed dangerous.”

  “Who are we looking for here, and how can he help us?” he asked.

  “We’re looking for that man over there,” Hierodule pointed to a man who was fishing along the river bank.

  Kestrel looked in disgust at the fishing line that extended into the murky river, whose current carried a heavy load of debris, ranging from tree branches and building timbers to animal carcasses. He couldn’t imagine knowingly eating anything caught in the waters of the river.

  The wiry young man looked around at the sound of voices approaching, and carefully scrutinized the pair, then turned back to his fishing line and started to pull the line in.

  “What could possibly bring the sacred priestess to visit a humble supplicant?” the man asked when they were only a few steps away.

  “I need you to come with us,” Hierodule answered. “We plan to leave Lakeview.”

  The man turned around again and examined both of his visitors closely. His eyes looked at Hierodule’s visible pregnancy, then examined Kestrel even more closely, lingering as he examined Kestrel’s face closely.

  “I’m not surprised he wants to leave; I’m surprised he’s even here and alive and free. I’m not sure what to think about your circumstances. Aren’t there ways to avoid that?” he asked as he motioned to her pregnant figure.

  “The gods said otherwise,” Hierodule said flatly.

  “And I told him he’ll have to cover up those eyes,” she added.

  “So how can I help you leave town?” Hiram asked.

  “I want you to go with us,” Hierodule answered.

  “Go? And leave all of this splendor? Where are you thinking of going?” the fisherman asked.

  “We’re going to go to Uniontown,” Kestrel answered.

  “You may be. I’m not particularly interested in that,” Hiram announced. He turned back to his fishing, casting the line back into the water. All three of their pairs of eyes watched the line fly through the air above the water’s surface. As the hook fell towards the muddy river, a large Viathin suddenly erupted out of the water and grabbed the hook and line, giving a sudden jerk that pulled Hiram and his pole into the river.

  Hiram gave out a high-pitched scream as he flew into the water, and Hierodule echoed the scream as she watched the Viathin fall back into the water, then start floating rapidly towards Hiram.

  “What are you doing?” she asked a moment later as Kestrel dropped his bow and quiver, pulled his knife from his hip, and stepped forward.

  Hiram had disappeared beneath the water’s surface. Kestrel threw his knife at the Viathin as he ran out onto the filthy water, looking for any sign of Hiram. He took his sixth step on the water, then his seventh and eighth and ninth steps, arriving in the vicinity of where he thought Hiram should be.

  The Viathin gave a bellow of pain as Lucretia arrived and struck it in the chest, and Kestrel felt his spine tingle as a pair of nearby Viathins screamed in reply. He knew he had to hurry before the other Viathins closed in on their location.

  Hiram’s head popped up and he gave a choking cough, as Kestrel turned abruptly and then leaned down and grabbed hold of Hiram’s shoulders with both hands. He slowed down dramatically as the weight of the man with the water-logged clothes nearly jerked his arms from his shoulders, and he sank into the water, the clinging, oily liquid rising to his knees as he pulled Hiram along awkwardly beside him.

  “Lucretia!” he called, preparing to confront other Viathins who he expected to come to the scene of one of their fellow’s death.

  He heard a thrashing in the water behind him, and heard Hierodule scream “Watch out!”

  He gave his ultimate effort, forcing his leg muscles to churn harder and faster than he thought possible, raising him and his frightened passenger up out of the water as he increased his speed, and he hurdled up onto the bank of the river, thrusting Hiram onto the ground ahead of him.

  As he did, he raised his hand to catch his returning knife. In so doing, Kestrel was distracted from his footing and slipped on a muddy patch, falling forward and rolling over in time to see a Viathin virtually fly up out of the water and extend its claws forward as it landed heavily atop his chest. The claws hit Kestrel’s divinely strengthened skin and pressed against the skin without penetrating, causing the monster to pause as it puzzled over the unsuccessful beginning to its attack.

  He jerked his knife hand inward, stabbing the Viathin atop him as the monster’s beady eyes momentarily stared into his own. He saw the lights go out in the monster’s eyes as his knife plunged into its heart, and it rolled off to the side as Hierodule and Hiram both screamed hysterically.

  Kestrel tried to catch his breath, sucking in great gulps of air as he recovered from the monster’s attack. “There’s another one!” Hierodule screamed.

  Kestrel rose to his knees beside the dead carcass of the Viathin on the river bank, and grabbed his nearby bow. The feel of the wooden stock sent a tingle of relief shooting up his arm and through his body, overcoming the panic that Hierodule’s warning had sparked. He sighted along an arrow as he saw the approaching waves in the river, caused by the Viathin that was coming to launch its own attack upon him.

  He released his arrow and grabbed a second shaft. He let it fly and reached for a third, which he fired as well, then stood up and began to step backwards, prepared to retreat further and fire more arrows if needed.

  Instead, he realized, the monster’s progress had slowed, and its approach towards the shore was only caused by its momentum carrying it forward, as all three arrows stuck out of its dead body.

  “You killed it! You killed three of them! Oh charms and curses! We’ve got to get out of here!” Hierodule spoke urgently. “Let’s go Hiram. If you stay here you’ll be dead in half an hour.” The priestess placed her hand on Hiram’s arm and began to carefully step through the soft ground in the river bottom, heading directly away from the river bank and the dead monster there, while the other two Viathin bodies began to float down river as the current took command of their movement.

  “She’s right,” Kestrel agreed, stepping quickly over to join the duo. “These things talk to each other in some fashion. They’ll all be ready to fight.” He took Hierodule’s elbow to help steady her as they moved across the ground.

  “My things are under the bridge!” Hiram protested.

  “By the time you go get them, there’s going to be trouble here,” Hierodule responded, just as they heard a blood-curdling bellow fro
m down river, a noise that made them all pick up their pace.

  “They’re angry – I can feel it,” she added. “Anger doesn’t begin to describe it. They think their great enemy has come to their land,” she looked over at Kestrel as she spoke.

  “Come over here, we can hide,” Hiram pointed towards a large cluster of boulders and stones that were off to their left.

  Kestrel looked over at the stony tor, as he heard the sounds of the Viathins growing closer. “We’re never going to get away,” he said. “It’s our best hope to hide.”

  They all veered towards the rocks. “There are a couple of men who live in there who don’t appreciate visitors,” Hiram huffed, running out of breath from the extended sprint towards shelter, while Kestrel’s own chest hurt from the pain of the Viathin’s attack; he wondered if he had suffered a broken rib.

  “Kestrel will persuade them to accept us,” Hierodule replied.

  The castle-sized pile of stones was next to the road that followed the river south, Kestrel realized as they approached. The hiding spots among the stones would make a perfect place for robbers to wait in ambush as travelers walked or rode by on the road, he intuitively grasped, understanding what type of men they might have to deal with. He put his hand on his sword as they reached the shadows of the stones, and pulled Hierodule back slightly so that he could take the lead and walk in front of the other two.

  “Stop right there,” a voice called from the shadows of the stony crannies.

  “We’re coming in,” Kestrel replied, moving slightly so that he better protected Hierodule.

  “We just want to hide for a little while,” Hiram added. “The gods of the water are angry and searching for us.”

  “Why?” the voice asked, as Kestrel led the other two in entering the shadows among the stones.

  “He killed three of them!” Hiram answered. “Saved my life and killed three of them, just like that!”

  Kestrel saw a movement deeper within the rocks, a furtive person slipping from one side of an opening to another.

  “This is all we need for now,” Kestrel added. “We just want to get out of sight.”