Greta promptly awoke Kestrel when the moon was overhead, visible through the road’s opening in the foliage.
“I’m cold Kestrel. Can I sleep with you?” she asked him, a question whose innocence they both understood.
Despite the protection of the Garrant Spark, Kestrel felt the chill himself, and welcomed her to wrap her cloak around both of them as she settled down next to him and quickly fell asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. He smiled at how trusting the girl had been, and how easily the two of them had gotten along when they needed to; it was another benefit of the Garrant Spark, he was sure, that made the team mates so compatible. The love that Hansen and Greta felt for one another was strong and not only evident to Kestrel’s eyes, but an echo of it seemed to reach him through the Garrant Spark bond, giving him a sense of regret that he had never yet felt anything as powerful as the mutual love the two gnomes felt for each other.
He felt his head nodding some time later, as he wondered where Picco was and how she was feeling. He looked up at the sky and saw that the moon had drifted quite a bit lower, and decided they needed to get moving again, to gain more ground on their elusive partner.
“Let’s go Greta,” he nudged her softly, then stood up as she raised her head in sleepy puzzlement. “We can start on our way to catch up to your lover boy. We might get to see him today if we hurry,” Kestrel prompted the girl.
They quickly left their camping spot and resumed the trip on the road, making progress for more than an hour before they felt Hansen begin to move as well.
“He’s switched directions,” Greta commented two hours later, after sunrise, as they both sensed that Hansen was moving almost south, instead of northeast, the direction they all had been traveling on the road.
Kestrel looked at the rugged terrain to the right of the road. “If he keeps going in that direction, we could try to go overland to cut him off over there,” he suggested tentatively as he pointed off road. It would be a gamble on whether they could cross the unknown landscape to their east with ease, but it might allow them to catch Hansen more quickly. And if Hansen was being held captive, Kestrel and Greta would be able to get ahead of their quarry and perhaps plan a rescue.
“We have to try Kestrel. I want to see him so badly,” Greta pleaded.
“Alright,” Kestrel agreed. “Tighten up your boots,” he told her, wishing that he still wore a pair. He had left his behind with Hansen when he had dove into the river, as he had left behind his pack and shirt and bow. He still had Lucretia with him though, the trusty, marvelous knife that always proved so valuable in any circumstances.
Together they began to walk due east, occasionally shifting slightly south whenever they had to go around an obstacle, trying to put themselves in front of the route that Hansen was traveling. “Kestrel, he’s switched directions again,” Greta fretted in mid-afternoon, when they sensed that he had veered to the east, heading in the same direction they were, but traveling away from them at a faster pace.
“He must still be on a road to be moving as quickly as he is,” Kestrel speculated, while they contended with the rugged hills and dense growth that constituted their path towards Hansen. “We’ll keep going and hope we reach his road soon.”
Minutes later, they came out on a road, a well-tended road that made a sweeping turn right at the spot where they stood. The road came from the north and turned to the east.
“This must be the road he’s on,” Kestrel said.
“Greta! Get back here!” he exclaimed hastily, grabbing the gnome girl and pulling her back into the foliage beside the road as he crouched down to hide.
“What is it Kestrel?” she asked.
“There is a pair of Viathins coming down the road from the east,” he said. His elven vision had spotted the reptilian monsters approaching long before their eyesight had been able to see him.
“What do we do?” Greta whispered.
“We try to stay out of sight and get around them,” Kestrel stated the obvious, as he began to lead her on a cautious route through the bushes, evading the slowly approaching monsters. They stopped and squatted silently as the Viathins trundled along the nearest stretch of road. When the monsters were out of sight Kestrel and Greta took to the edge of the road and began to cautiously jog forward in pursuit of Hansen once more.
“If there are evil ones walking freely on this road, Hansen probably isn’t free, is he?” Greta asked several minutes later.
“No,” Kestrel replied, shaking his head. “He must be a captive, and we are going to find a way to set him free, and then get away from this place.”
As darkness fell they grew bolder about using the road. They could feel Hansen still traveling ahead of them, and were determined to catch up. They hid in the roadside bushes once, when the approach of flaming torches revealed an escort of guards accompanying a pair of Viathins. An hour after that, after they felt Hansen stop moving, they spotted more lights in the forest ahead of them, campfires.
“That must be where he is!” Greta told Kestrel as the pair left the road and began to slowly pad through the forest towards the camp.
They spent an hour creeping through the chilly forest, then reached a spot where Kestrel called a halt.
“Can you climb trees?” he asked pointing upward in the darkness at the pine trees overhead.
“No,” Greta answered flatly.
“Stay right here,” Kestrel directed her. “I’m going to climb up and try to get a better view of the camp from overhead, to see how many guards there are, and where Hansen might be. I’ll be back in a little while.”
He quickly hopped up into the tree, and then began to methodically work his way upward and outward through the branches of the pine. He felt little joy in climbing a tree again, for he disliked climbing in evergreens, because of the dense growth of the needles. They were uncomfortable to deal with, and difficult to safely penetrate in order to see beyond the tree.
After slow and careful effort, Kestrel managed to push aside a branch and look down upon the camp below. He spotted Hansen immediately, the imprint of the Garrant Spark drawing his eyes to his partner. The gnome was trussed up in ropes, sitting near a campfire, while a guard stood next to him with a spear held firmly in his hands. Hansen was looking up at the trees, directly at Kestrel’s spot, undoubtedly led by his own feelings of the Garrant Spark.
Kestrel was pleased to see his companion still alive. He was less pleased to see that more than a score of men in Uniontown uniforms were also in the camp, spread around three fires. They posed a formidable challenge to his dream of easily setting Hansen free. Worse was the sight of two of the man-like Viathins, creatures that walked on two legs, with snouted features. They were a dangerous and advanced form of the monsters that were conquering the lands of the Inner Seas, and Kestrel felt tempted to throw Lucretia at them at that very moment.
Instead he remained motionless, looking at the camp, trying to find some obvious weakness he could exploit to set Hansen free. Next to Hansen he saw a large pile of supplies, and he realized that they included both Hansen’s own materials as well as the things he had left behind when he had dove into the river to rescue Greta. He saw both his bow from Kere, as well as the water skin from Decimindion.
It was a sight that made his eyes widen. The water was a lure and a threat. He knew he had to have it. It was apparent that the Viathins did not realize what they had, as the skin sat unguarded, literally beneath their very noses. For the first time since the Garrant Spark ceremony, Kestrel felt the alien energy from the temple stir within him, angered by the presence of the unthreatened water skin.
Kestrel cautiously drew back from the outer portion of the tree, and sat on a branch next to the trunk pondering the next move to make. He wanted to set Hansen free, he wanted his bow, and he wanted the water skin. Having boots and a cloak would be nice, but he had to have the water skin, and he needed to set Hansen free.
He knew he could outrun the Uniontown forces. He knew he could use
Lucretia to defeat a number of the guards, as well as the Viathins, given enough time. It might be possible to sprint into the middle of the camp and swipe the skin as he dashed by, using his knife to cause distractions by killing one or both of the Viathins.
Slowly, he started to climb down the tree, returning to Greta to discuss the situation with her.
He explained what he saw to her when he got to the ground. “So I could run through the camp, throw a knife at one of the Viathins as I arrive, pick up the water skin, then throw at the other Viathin as I leave. Most of the guards will follow after me,” he explained his expectations.
“Once the camp is nearly empty, you could go in and see if you can set Hansen free,” he told her. I’ll circle around through the woods, and meet you back here if you can get him. If you can’t, I’ll find you, and we’ll try to come up with a new plan.”
“It sounds crazy Kestrel, and dangerous,” she told him. “But I can’t think of any way to set him free, and we don’t know where they’re taking him, or what they plan to do with him, so we can’t afford to just wait and hope for the best.”
“Follow me,” Kestrel directed. He took her hand in his to lead her through the dark forest, moving to the area in front of the camp, along the road where the squad was headed. From there he would be running through the camp and then escaping out in the direction he and Greta had originally come down the road, back north towards freedom, seemingly.
It was a desperate plan, and he guessed that its chance of success was little more than half. But they had no better plan, and there was not likely to be a better place to attempt to set Hansen free. The rescue of the gnome had become the focus of the journey, both because the Garrant Spark drove the team members to protect one another, and because Kestrel still had no clear inkling of what the true end game of the quest was meant to be. So far they had been traveling east, waiting for the purpose of their journey to be revealed, and no revelation had been forthcoming.
“Okay, now you wait here until you see me clear the rest of the camp out,” Kestrel planted Greta at a spot close to Hansen. “I’ll come through in just a few minutes and hopefully lure the guards away.
“Don’t try anything to help Hansen unless you’re sure you can succeed,” he emphasized, then he moved on away from her to get to the starting spot of his mad rush through the camp.
“Please help me Kai, Corrant, Kere,” Kestrel spoke softly minutes later, as he reached the road south of the camp and crouched in place, preparing to begin his sprint. He pulled Lucretia out of the sheath on his hip, then looked at the two Viathins walking about the camp. He picked one out for his first toss, and sent the knife flying towards the monster.
As soon as Lucretia struck the Viathin the creature collapsed to the ground. A shout from one of the bystanders drew the attention of all the others in the camp, and Kestrel started sprinting.
“Lucretia, return,” he called, and held his hand open to receive the weapon, as he passed the first set of inattentive guards on the periphery of the camp. As soon as he felt the knife hit his hand he sent it flying at the other Viathin, who happened to look up and make eye contact with him as Kestrel approached the center of the camp.
“Kill him!” the Viathin roared in his guttural voice, and the attention of the human guards focused on Kestrel, just as the knife ended the life of the second Viathin.
Kestrel was next to Hansen, and winked at the gnome as he bent low and grabbed the water skin and his bow and arrows. For good measure he looked up at the guard who stood next to Hansen and seared the man’s face into his memory, then swerved his body to avoid the guard’s swipe with his pike.
An arrow struck his chest and made him stagger as he started to head towards his exit from the camp. Kestrel felt his body spun around by the blow to his left side, but he kept his feet moving, and found himself momentarily running backwards, facing the camp. He saw the members of the guard erupting in activity, starting to chase after him. He twisted on his feet and faced forward again, then evaded the pickets on the north side of the camp and ran into darkness and freedom down the road, listening to arrows strike the ground and the trees around him as the Uniontown forces shot desperately at him.
“Lucretia, return,” he called the knife away from the body of the second Viathin. He could feel Greta starting to move from her hiding place, and he wanted to give her his last piece of assistance. He called forth the memory of the face of the guard who was supposed to stand over Hansen; as soon as he felt the knife handle in his palm, he tossed it at the guard, to try to make Greta’s task as easy as possible.
Kestrel slowed down slightly, taking a chance to let his pursuers keep him in sight and to encourage them to remain absent from the camp for a few minutes more. He felt Greta’s presence converge upon Hansen’s and then a glow seemed to envelope them in his senses, a triumph of love and reunion that made him smile momentarily. “Get him out of there, Greta,” he said softly to himself.
He stopped suddenly and dropped the water bag as he turned and pulled his bow into position, and grabbed a pair of arrows. Before he had even set his feet firmly in place he fired the pair of arrows at his pursuers.
“Lucretia, return,” he called as he picked up the water skin and started to run again, leading the guards further from the camp.
There was a distant sound of triumph from down the road. Kestrel could feel Greta and Hansen, still together, not having moved from their location in the camp, and he felt a sick certainly, as he caught his returning knife.
Kestrel made a sudden lurch off the road and into the dark forest, where pursuit became impossible, and the Uniontown forces came to a standstill as Kestrel began to circle around them through the trees, working to get back to the camp and confirm or rebuff his fear that Greta had been taken captive along with Hansen, instead of setting her new husband free.
Five minutes later Kestrel was up atop a pine tree once again, looking down upon the camp scene where the two gnomes were already tied back-to-back, surrounded by a reduced contingent of guards. There was a spirited conversation taking place among the guards, but Kestrel could not hear the words spoken, so he sat and watched, Lucretia held in his hand ready to toss at the first person who might attempt to harm the gnomes.
He eventually began to doze off, as the guards in the camp slowly spread out, some falling asleep in covers, while others remained on guard, including a quartet that now watched over the prisoners. Kestrel awoke with a start when he heard the sounds of the guard unit packing up to move out, before the break of dawn.
He looked down and saw his two companions softly conversing, without interruption by the guards, as they looked directly up at where he sat in the tree. Minutes later the guards carelessly lifted Hansen and Greta to their feet, and the Uniontown soldiers began to march at a quick pace with their captives.
Kestrel climbed down the tree and began to follow along through the trees, allowing his Garrant Spark sense of direction to let him trail the group without exposing himself to them. Without Greta to watch over, Kestrel was able to move easily through the dark forest, his bare feet padding silently among the sticks and needles and undergrowth, while Corrant’s magical bonding energy protected him from cold and hunger and the feeling of injuries.
Soon after daylight came, Kestrel sensed that his quarry had stopped, and he cautiously crept through the forest of pines to the edge of the road, then peered out. The group had stopped at a crossroads, and were conversing with another group of guards, including two more of the standing Viathins.
Kestrel held a motionless pose, intently watching the parlay taking place a hundred yards away. After half an hour, the two groups became one, and began moving forward again, heading still in the direction that Hansen’s captors had originally pursued.
Kestrel felt helpless. The number of guards around the gnomes was now far too large for him to take any action against them, and the previous night’s activity had alerted them to not let their guard down. He ruefully stayed
on course, hoping to find some miraculous opportunity to set his companions free.
Shortly after midday the road began to climb higher. The terrain became rougher, and always rose, while the road the Uniontown soldiers used began to utilize switchbacks as it climbed upwards. Kestrel found that cover grew scant, and he had to risk perilous moments of exposure as he tried to keep within a reasonable distance of the group.
As sunset began to fall, the road entered a valley that cut through the side of the mountain, then grew level and wide, becoming a plaza of sorts, and the Viathins raised their hands to call a halt to the march. The majority of the guards immediately slumped to a weary posture where they stood, exhausted by the trying climb, and Kestrel could easily make out the two gnomes, who were taken and placed against the stone wall of the mountainside cliff. Kestrel watched the two maneuver to place their hands together, in a touching moment, before they sat down. A guard came over and began to feed them, placing bites of bread in their mouths, and Kestrel watched, puzzled. The gnomes had not been mistreated in any way that he could detect, nor questioned about their reason for being in Uniontown territory.
Kestrel sighed, then took a deep breath, and watched the steam roll away from his nostrils as he exhaled in the thin, cold air. The sun was invisible behind the horizon already, and the red glow in the west quickly faded into darkness. After an hour of waiting, Kestrel began to creep upward. He felt for handholds and footholds as he climbed the nearly-vertical face of the mountain, trying to get around to a position ahead of the encampment, so that he could examine and ponder the gnomes’ situation from a different angle.
They were high up the mountain, and there was not much further to go, it appeared to Kestrel. Another half day’s march was likely to take them all the way to the peak. He could imagine no good reason to take the gnomes to the top of the mountain, and to then bring them back down – such a march would be a fruitless waste of energy, and so he suspected that something climactic was in the offing for the next day, something that he needed to try to figure out and prevent, if possible.
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown Page 30
