The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Jump! Jump Kestrel! Jump!” both Lake and Kestrel heard a number of voices calling to them.

  “What is that? Demons?” Lake asked in agitation.

  “No!” Kestrel felt his soul jump. “But it can’t be who it sounds like!”

  “We’ll catch you again! Jump for your life, Kestrel!” he heard the voices, and knew it sounded just like his friends the imps, the imps who could not possibly be in Uniontown.

  “Here,” Kestrel rose to his feet and grabbed Lake in a tight hug. “Trust me,” he said, then threw the pair of them over the edge of the roof, and into the waiting darkness below.

  Lake started to wail in anguish, and then in astonishment, as small bodies made contact with them, holding them in the air and slowing the pace of their descent.

  “Stillwater! What are you doing here?” Kestrel asked in amazement as they group hung in the air, slowly descending.

  “We’ll be on the ground in three more seconds,” the imp said in a strained voice, and then they did touch down on a paved surface, a dark street on the outside of the temple walls.

  “Thank you! You amazing friends! You are lifesavers!” Kestrel felt a surge of loving affection for the unexpected imps.

  “Where can we go to be safe?” Killcen asked.

  “I have friends in the city,” Kestrel gasped. “We need to go hide with them.”

  “Can you tell me what is happening here? Are these demons?” Lake asked, rising to his feet and backing away from Kestrel; he modified his appearance, changing from a gnome shape back to the human priest he had copied before.

  “No. No, far from it,” Kestrel answered. “These are imps. They are our allies in the fight against the Viathins. And they are the most loyal friends I have ever known,” he added. “Come to me, all of you,” he said as he rose to his feet as well.

  Four blue bodies emerged out of the darkness and engulfed Kestrel in a swarming hug, a joyful reunion. He began to cry tears of joy, and then expressed alarm as he felt the small blue beings within his arms.

  “You’re so thin! Have you not had any food?” he asked.

  “We have not been able to find very much,” Odare admitted. “We have flown high above, keeping an eye on you as best we could, and it has been difficult to find food while staying hidden.”

  “We should get going,” Kestrel said. He took his first few steps forward, feeling sore and uneasy. “My friends have food. Moorin is with us! She will be so glad to see you, and to feed you, my dear friends.”

  And together, Kestrel limped and Lake walked away from the temple, the sprites flying not far above them in the dark streets of the city. Behind them they all heard the yells and alarms of the temple as its occupants reacted to the theft and attack they had suffered.

  “Thank you Kestrel, for setting me free,” Lake said at a random time as they walked along. “You have saved me, body and soul. I owe you an immeasurable debt for my freedom.”

  Kestrel glanced over at the man, vaguely understanding the horror he might have suffered, his soul and body subject to the evil of the temple. “I’m sorry you suffered anything at all, and I’m glad I could help you regain your freedom,” he said, and they walked on with nothing further spoken on the subject. “You can come with me to hide with my friends while we figure out our next step.”

  “Stillwater,” Kestrel called an hour later, as they approached the building where Hierodule, Hiram, and Moorin remained, “we will go into this building and go up to our room, then I’ll open a window so that all of you can come in.”

  “As you wish,” the imp’s voice carried softly down from the darkness overhead.

  “Come along,” Kestrel told Lake.

  “Who’s in there?” the man posing as a priest asked.

  “Two women and a man. They’re all fugitives, running from the authorities,” Kestrel answered. “We all are. Come along – it’ll be safe.”

  Together they went past the front desk and slowly climbed the steps, then Kestrel knocked on the door of his room. “It’s me, Kestrel,” he said in a low voice. “I made it back.”

  There was a moment of silence, then the door opened, and he slid into the room along with Lake.

  “Kestrel! Are you okay? Did you get it?” Moorin asked him as she glanced at him, then over his shoulder at Lake, who stood silently by.

  “I have it,” Kestrel held the water skin up, as he leaned against the wall of the room and slowly slid down to the floor.

  “Are you okay?” Hiram asked, anxiously leaning down.

  “I’m not at my best,” Kestrel admitted.

  “He was attacked by the priests, using the powers of their god. He used powers of his own to fight them, but he’s been weakened ever since,” Lake chimed in.

  “Moorin, the imps are here,” Kestrel announced. “Please open the window and let them in.”

  “Imps? What are imps?” Hiram asked.

  “They are the small blue creatures he uses,” Hierodule answered, as Moorin went to the window.

  “I rely on them and appreciate them, but I hope I do not use them,” Kestrel chimed in, just as the four small beings came flying in through the open window, crowding the small room.

  “If you have any food left, give it to the poor warriors,” Kestrel asked, and Hierodule pulled a loaf of bread out of their bag of food stuffs.

  The imps all sat down on the floor next to Kestrel and began to eat the bread immediately, as the others looked upon them with wonder.

  “Who are you?” Moorin asked Lake after a few moments of watching the imps.

  Lake pulled his hood back completely from the assumed face of the dead priest back in the temple. He stared intently at Moorin for a long moment, then suddenly morphed, changing from the priest’s face to different face, a mild, fair man’s face with the eyebrows and ear features that marked him as a part of the elven race.

  “Oh my goddess!” Hiram said softly. “What did we just see?”

  “Are you an elf?” Moorin asked in astonishment.

  Lake stared at Kestrel, then at Moorin.

  “Why does he look like an elf now?” Hiram asked, adding to the confusion.

  “I am the Tyndell Span; for part of my life I am a changeling,” Lake said. “I am a member of the elves of the southern forest, but I am the changeling, the one who is born in every generation to be the next leader.

  “There is a certain set of circumstances that will cause my body to change without my knowledge or preparation,” he added, staring at Kestrel. “I think that has just happened here,” he said softly, his gaze moving to Moorin.

  “Why would you change now?” Hiram asked. “How do we come to be with two elves in the center of Uniontown?”

  “Three elves,” Odare piped up.

  “Kestrel! You are an elf, aren’t you?” Hierodule shrewdly asked. “That’s why you were so friendly with that elven lady doctor. That’s why you came here to rescue her,” the pregnant woman motioned towards the elven maiden Moorin. “How do you manage to look like a human?”

  Kestrel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I am an elf,” he said in a toneless voice, looking at the darkness of the inside of his eyelids.

  “It’s very late at night, and I’m sure we’re all exhausted,” Kestrel said wearily. “Let’s all rest, and in the morning we’ll try to figure out how we’re going to escape from Uniontown.”

  “This is better than watching a play,” Odare said to Canyon in a mock whisper, making Kestrel smile gently before he passed out in a state of exhaustion.

  Chapter 13 – Infected with Evil

  When Kestrel awoke in the morning, he discovered that he had been moved onto one of the beds, Hierodule had the other bed, and the rest of the group was sprawled across the floor of the small room. The reddish promise of sunlight streamed in through the open window, and the imps hovered over him, watching him sleep.

  “How do you feel, Kestrel-friend?” Stillwater asked. “You tossed and turned and muttered and whimpe
red in your sleep.”

  “I do not feel my best,” Kestrel answered truthfully. He felt the two vastly different energies contesting with one another inside of his soul, and he had suffered terrible dreams throughout the night.

  “Perhaps you will feel better today, after you rest and spend time with your friends,” Canyon suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Kestrel agreed.

  Hiram sat up, rubbed his eyes, and saw Kestrel looking at him. He grinned, then ran his hands over his hair and pulled his shirt collar straight.

  “Are you going to change your appearance here in front of us too?” Hiram asked.

  Kestrel grinned. He rose from the bed and cautiously stepped over the others to the doorway, stooping to pick up his discarded blindfold that lay on the floor. “I’m going to stay just as I am,” he said, “and I’d like to go to the market and get some food to feed this motley group. Would you like to be my escort?”

  “Yes,” Hiram whispered enthusiastically, then stepped across the crowded floor to join Kestrel at the door.

  “We’ll be back,” Kestrel quietly promised the imps, then he and Hiram were out the door, and Kestrel pulled the blindfold up around his eyes.

  “Lead on,” he told Hiram.

  “So that Lake,” Hiram began to speak once they were out on the street, “He looks like an elf now, I guess. Is that really what you look like too?”

  “I think so, more or less. My ears would not be quite so pointed,” Kestrel answered.

  “I’ve never seen elves before. You’re really a handsome race,” Hiram complemented him.

  “Yes we are,” Kestrel laughed. “But there are a lot of good looking humans too,” Kestrel answered. “Your sister, Hierodule, is a pretty woman, and I imagine your other sister is as well.”

  “She’s very different,” Hiram spoke with animation. “She’s very thin, so thin you’d think she’s a boy. She’s not nearly as attractive as Hierodule.”

  “Elven women are thin, the full-blooded ones,” Kestrel said thoughtfully, as he recollected Lucretia and Alicia. “Moorin’s half human; that’s why she carries so much flesh,” he explained.

  “And which do you prefer?” Hiram asked in a tone that indicated an eagerness to learn.

  “I don’t know that I’ve got a preference,” Kestrel said thoughtfully. He’d seldom had a conversation with another man, talking about girls he knew, not in recent months, when he’d traveled so much and had so few opportunities to speak confidentially to a friend.

  “As long as the girl is,” he stopped to consider what he thought was best in a girl; friendly, outgoing, loyal, faithful – like Picco? Mature, thoughtful, alluring, beautiful, strong-willed – like Moorin? Brave, strong, good with weapons, tenacious – like Lucretia? Complex, passionate, unattainable – like Alicia?

  “Is what?” Hiram prompted.

  “I’m not sure,” Kestrel answered.

  “What? Any girl will do for you? Is that all that it comes down to?” Hiram asked in exasperation.

  “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Here’s the market place,” Hiram immediately added in a voice filled with asperity. “What do we need to buy?”

  “Fruit. Is there any good fruit available?” Kestrel asked, thinking of the imps and their hunger. “And bread and dried meat, if there is any,” he added, as he began to plan their escape from the city. If they could catch a ride on a ship to carry them down river to Lakeview, they could use the extra food to supplement the meals they would receive on board their vessel, food that was sure to be less than satisfactory.

  Hiram led Kestrel among many vendors’ stalls, complaining about the quality and price of the food, but after an hour they had enough food in the bag that Kestrel carried to allow him to feel that the weight of their food was enough, and they started back towards their temporary place of residence.

  Hiram was silent as they walked, and Kestrel felt some strain that simmered between the two of them for some inexplicable reason. Hiram gripped his arm with a fierce grip at times as he guided Kestrel through the traffic, and Kestrel decided to try to break the ice.

  “So what kind of girl would you like to have?” he asked in a friendly tone.

  “Men don’t really have girls, do they?” Hiram asked rhetorically in response. “That’s the way they talk and think, but really, they have relationships with girls, if the girl allows, or at least, that’s how the girl sees it, probably.

  “But if I was to have a relationship,” he continued, “I’d want someone who would be loyal, and open, someone who would listen without arguing, who would fight for me and always be available to be relied upon.”

  “Sounds like you need a dog,” Kestrel laughed, then exclaimed when Hiram angrily punched him in the shoulder.

  “I’ll find the right person, or maybe I will get a dog,” Hiram growled, and they said no more until they got home.

  “These others do not believe our stories about your adventures, Kestrel!” Killcen said as soon as the two shoppers had returned to the room.

  Kestrel pulled his blindfold off, and saw that all the others in the room were looking at him. “What stories did you tell?” he asked.

  “Did you really get swallowed by a monster and destroy it from the inside?” Hierodule asked skeptically.

  “I did,” Kestrel answered, giving a shudder.

  “And you helped defeat an imposter in the imps own kingdom?” Moorin asked. “You never mentioned that.”

  “I did,” Kestrel agreed.

  “How many battles have you fought?” Lake asked.

  Kestrel looked at Lake, still startled by the image of another elf standing in the room, looking at him. What was the meaning of identity for an elf who could change form so easily, he wondered?

  His own experiences had taken him through so many identities, Kestrel momentarily thought to himself in a moment of introspection. He’d been a partial elf, distrusted because of his heritage, though he’d considered himself an elf, then he’d been an elf pretending to be a human. He’d almost come to think of himself as a human, he knew. And with the enchanted ring that Kai had given him, he’d been able to shift back and forth from one race to the other so simply that racial identity had ceased to matter to him. And then he had flipped his outlook and taken a stand that he would always carry his elven looks rather than pretend to be anything else.

  And now he was stalking through the Uniontown empire disguised as a human, with an elf changeling. It all was beyond his understanding.

  “Well?” Lake asked.

  “Just enough. More than I wanted to,” Kestrel answered with a grin, shaking off the introspection. “And hopefully no more. I’ll leave those to Wren; she likes them.”

  “Who’s that?” Hiram asked.

  “She is his cousin, also part human and part elf, and also a great warrior,” Canyon answered.

  “Enough talk about me,” Kestrel spoke up. “Let’s all eat, and plan how we’re going to get away from Uniontown.

  “I was thinking that we could try to buy passage on a ship headed north to Lakeview, and then when we got there we could buy passage out of Lakeview to some other port, and eventually get back to some place safe, Graylee or Seafare,” he explained.

  “Don’t you think they’ll be looking for you to try to go back north?” Lake spoke up. “I can take you southwest to my homeland. The souleaters won’t be looking for you to go that way. Come with me on the safe route, and we can take you through the mountains to eventually reach the shores of the Great Sea, so that you can sail to your homeland from there, if you so choose.”

  “No,” Kestrel said with unexpected heat. He felt the unwelcome energy churning within him, the infection that had penetrated his soul during the battle on the altar of Ashcrayss, and the energy sought to drive him to anger, he could tell.

  “No,” he repeated in a gentler tone, as the others looked at him. “I want to get Moorin to safety; I want to get this skin of water to safety, back where it is needed to keep our
kingdoms free from the Viathin influence.”

  “I want to keep her safe as well,” Lake responded. “And the journey west will be unexpected, and unguarded, and therefore safe.”

  “Hierodule can’t be taken on an overland journey,” Kestrel explained. “She can travel by ship, but hiking west would be a burden to her.”

  Lake stood silently, and protested no more, though he gave his head a slight shake.

  “We need to figure out how we’re going to disguise those ears and eyebrows on the two of you,” Kestrel nodded at Lake and Moorin.

  “A head scarf,” Hiram said. “Put a head scarf around Moorin and she’ll be disguised well enough.”

  “What about Lake?” Moorin asked.

  Kestrel looked at the man.

  “Why not dress him as a woman?” Odare asked suddenly.

  “He doesn’t have a beard,” Hierodule said thoughtfully.

  “I just became a man again last night, and now I can no longer change my body’s appearance,” Lake agreed. “But if you think it will work, I’m willing to try dressing as a woman.”

  “Who among us can we send out to buy women’s clothes; who can walk about the city streets as they appear now, and know what to buy?” Moorin asked. The room was silent.

  “I can go,” Hiram answered at last. “I know what my sisters need for clothing, and if I dress as a woman, perhaps I can pass as one as well,” he said as he glanced at Hierodule, and then at Kestrel.

  Kestrel studied the man. “I don’t know. You might want to just stay yourself and say you’re buying for your sisters. I have a hard time imagining you as a woman.”

  Hiram’s nostrils flared. “You are so sure of yourself, aren’t you? Always going out and doing something heroic? Always knowing what decisions to make? Always having someone around to rely on?

  “Well, I can look like a woman! I’ll show you,” Hiram said indignantly. “Give me your money. I’ll go dress myself as a woman, then get clothes for everyone else.” He walked over to the flummoxed Kestrel and took the leather money purse from his belt.

  “I’ll be back,” the man said, then went out the door and slammed it shut behind himself.