The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown

by Jeffrey Quyle

  After a long conversation, when there seemed to be a lull in the conversation, as they all silently considered the extraordinary things that had happened, Moorin suddenly spoke up. “Lord Kestrel, may I take you on a tour of the village?” she asked as she rose.

  “Of course, my lady,” Kestrel replied with a grin.

  “I’ve told everyone the story about how you were in the body of a prince, and I was your fiancée,” Moorin told Kestrel as they began to stroll. “They all believe that you should be a prince.”

  “It’s not what I want,” Kestrel replied quickly.

  “What do you want, Kestrel?” Moorin asked gently, as they walked beyond the last house of the village and began to walk through the stunted forest.

  “I don’t know,” Kestrel answered softly. “I thought I knew, but something feels changed. I don’t really know what my purpose is in life now, and I feel rudderless. I’m told that everyone else feels joyful, but all I feel is emptiness.”

  “You’ve been the champion of the whole world – you’ve been the champion of the gods themselves!” Moorin answered. “Nothing will ever measure up to that level of purpose – don’t expect to match such glory!

  “And you succeeded! You achieved what the very gods themselves asked you to do on their behalf! That is beyond remarkable. You have every right to rest on your laurels, at least for a while,” she told him.

  He stopped and reached to hold her hand, then looked into her eyes. There was warmth, and friendship, and even a sense of fear looking out at him.

  “What is it? What do you want to tell me?” he asked her. “I can tell there’s something you want to say.”

  “Kestrel,” she murmured and cast her eyes down, then looked back into his eyes. “There was a time when I thought anything was possible,” she said.

  “I even thought I might love you. But I never quite have, and now,” she paused.

  “I’d like to stay here among these elves, and help them rebuild their society. They are so lost and adrift, a group of elves without a forest. They don’t know who they are,” she explained, speaking quickly. “Lake and I are compatible. He has asked me to be the Tyndall Shail.”

  Kestrel stood silently, his eyes closed. It was a blow to one set of dreams he had held, while also offering relief that he hadn’t anticipated he would feel. He hadn’t known what he wanted, and as he heard Moorin speak, he realized that he hadn’t felt his heart any longer set on becoming Moorin’s mate; somewhere over the course of their interaction, and through the journey that had consumed him, he had lost his obsession with the beautiful woman in front of him.

  “What is a Tyndall Shail?” he asked.

  “We would say princess,” Moorin answered carefully, examining him closely. “There are ceremonies involved, but I will be his wife. I will be the mother to his people, and help lead them back to their lives as elves again, someday when there is once more a forest for them.

  “Are you willing to accept this, Kestrel? Does it meet your approval?” she asked.

  “It’s not my place to pass judgment on your future Moorin. And I wouldn’t ever disapprove of anything you did. I know you – we know each other pretty well after all we’ve been through! – and I wouldn’t ever believe that you could do anything I don’t approve of,” Kestrel answered.

  “Kere told me to save you. Maybe this is what it’s for; maybe she intended you to be the new Tyndall Shail to help these elves down here – this tribe of her people; that may have been almost as important to her as saving the world itself. I just hope you’ll be happy,” he told her.

  “Oh Kestrel, thank you!” Moorin threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “I was afraid you’d protest, or be jealous.”

  “I am jealous, don’t think otherwise,” Kestrel answered with a weary smile. “I’m jealous of Lake for having a future to look forward to, and most of all, a future with you; he could find no better princess for himself or his people.

  “And I’m jealous that you have a purpose,” he added.

  Kestrel released his hug of Moorin and held her away at arm’s length as he looked at her, studying the flawless beauty of her features.

  “Take your time to recover Kestrel. There will always be a purpose for you; the world needs you to be its champion, I know,” she answered.

  “Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Kestrel answered.

  “Where are you going to go next? What are your plans?” Moorin asked. They began to walk back towards the village.

  “I can go anywhere. There’s no place that I have to go now,” he replied.

  “What about your friends?” Moorin asked. “Are you going to go see them?”

  Kestrel thought of his friends, and then gave a soft laugh, as he realized his first thoughts were of the humans of Graylee and Hydrotaz, as well as the imps.

  “I will, I’ll probably drift back to the Eastern Forest, and visit friends along the way,” he agreed.

  “Would you please go back through Seafare for me?” Moorin looked over at him. “Ruelin needs to be told that I won’t be coming back. I need to set him free to move on with his life.

  “I’d appreciate if you could tell him for me Kestrel,” she requested. “Please break it to him gently.

  “And tell my father as well – send a message to him for me, please,” she entreated.

  “I’ll be glad to do that for you,” he agreed.

  “What about Hierodule and Hye? Are they going to stay here among the elves?” Kestrel asked her. “Perhaps I could take them back to Lakeview.”

  “You can ask them,” Moorin agreed. “I think they may be happier here than you realize though.”

  They reached the cabin where the others waited, and re-entered the room.

  “I’ll be starting on my journey back home soon,” Kestrel said. “Would either of you like to return to Lakeview with me?” he asked the two human women.

  The two sisters looked at one another. “I do not wish to return there,” Hierodule answered. “After what I went through there, I do not even want to go to the city again.”

  “I will stay here with my sister and my nephew; there is nothing for us to go back to there,” Hye agreed. “We have been treated well among these people, and we will learn the elvish language.”

  “And she is so skinny, she practically looks like an elf anyway!” Hierodule said with a grin.

  “Speaking of which, Kestrel, your features are growing more elf-like,” Moorin commented. “Your ears are noticeably more pointed that they were the last time we saw you.”

  “They’re starting to grow back? It doesn’t seem like it’s been long enough,” Kestrel answered. “I thought I had a few more months. I haven’t been near any water from the healing spring in a long time.”

  “Your ears had different plans than you did apparently,” Moorin laughed. “Maybe the waters of the lake in the mountains healed you similarly to the healing spring.”

  The next morning Kestrel left the village of the elves, supplied with a pack full of goods from the elven village, Kestrel started walking through the wide mountain valley that the elves occupied. A series of small lakes made the valley relatively moist and vibrant compared to the surrounding mountains, and Kestrel’s journey was pleasant as he walked to the northwest, through a territory unoccupied by any race. He took his time on the trip, his legs still recovering from his long period of unconsciousness, his soul still wondering about what his future would be.

  After two weeks he emerged on the coast of the great sea, and began walking northward until he came to a small fishing village, a human village.

  “What are you, an elf?” someone in the only tavern in the village asked Kestrel when he stopped in at midday.

  “Part elf, part human,” Kestrel replied, as he realized he no longer really cared what race people considered him.

  “We’ve never seen an elf here before,” the man said.

  “I want to get to Seafare,” Kestrel t
old him. “Are there any ships that will sail from here to there?”

  He found a small fishing boat that was headed halfway up the coast to Seafare, and rode on that ship for the next three days. When they reached the village that was their destination, he waited a day and got a ride on another ship that took him closer still to Seafare. After ten days, he arrived at the docks of the city.

  Chapter 23 – The Road to the Eastern Forest

  Kestrel thanked the fishing crew that had brought him into the harbor at Seafare as they arrived thanks to the strength of a persistent, warm southern breeze. He left the ship to walk away from the docks and towards the palace. His clothes were disheveled from the long, rugged journey he had taken.

  “Is the lady Wren still here at the palace?” Kestrel asked the guards at the palace gates. The city and the building appeared placid, with no sign of trouble.

  “The lady is at the Graylee embassy, where she lives,” the guard casually informed Kestrel, who asked for directions to the embassy, then thanked the guard and began to walk through the city’s streets.

  “Make way, elf, make way for the carriage of the ambassador,” a coach driver shouted at him from behind, as the vehicle came thundering down the road behind him half an hour later as Kestrel approached the gates of the Graylee embassy.

  Kestrel quickly stepped to the side of the road, and looked up at the passing carriage. The curtains on the sides of the vehicle were open, and inside Kestrel saw Picco, Creata, and Wren all chatting and laughing.

  “Wren!” he shouted in elvish, “is this any way to treat a cousin?”

  He saw Wren’s head swivel to look out the window, and her eyes grew wide as she recognized Kestrel while the vehicle drove past his spot.

  “Stop the carriage! Right now! Stop! I demand!” she screamed loudly, thrusting the entire top half of her torso up through the open window so that she could clearly get the driver’s attention. As loudly as she screamed, Kestrel doubted that she needed to make the effort, but he grinned as he watched the driver pull madly on the reins, trying to stop the horses.

  “Kestrel!” she screamed. “He’s back!” she shouted back at the others as she tumbled out of the window and ran back to where Kestrel stood behind the finally-stopped carriage.

  “What? Is Kestrel here?” he heard Picco’s voice inside the carriage, just before Wren tackled him with a staggering embrace, driving him backwards several steps as he absorbed his cousin’s momentum.

  “You are alive! Where have you been? What have you done? What have they done to you?” Wren asked question after question as she broke the clinch and stepped back to look at him.

  He looked over her shoulder, and saw that Creata had helped a very pregnant Picco down out of the carriage, and the two of them were approaching him as quickly as Picco could hurry.

  “Let’s all get together, and I can tell all of you at once,” he told his cousin, as he placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her, so that the two of them could approach the brother and sister.

  “Picco! It’s so good to see you!” he told his former lover as the two of them met and embraced.

  “He didn’t bother to say that to me,” Wren pouted, as Create wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  “I think it’s good to see you,” Creata assured her, and received a slap on the chest in return.

  “It’s good to see all of you. It’s good to finally be with friends again,” Kestrel told the small group on the side of the road, as they drew stares from other passersby. He felt his eyes start to tear up, as the realization hit him that he was truly with friends, people who would care for him and take care of him if he needed.

  “Where were you all on your way to? Were you going back to the embassy?” he asked.

  “Yes, will you come with us?” Creata asked.

  Moments later they all were in the carriage and the driver was shaking the reins to set them in motion. “Keep the windows open; he smells like fish!” Wren loudly said.

  “I’ve been on fishing ships coming up the coast for more days than I can remember,” Kestrel admitted, as he started to tell them the tale of all that had happened since he had left Seafare to rescue Moorin from the kidnappers.

  His story finished after dinner, hours later.

  “So Moorin will not be coming back to Ruelin?” Picco asked intently after Kestrel’s narrative was finished.

  “She has no intention to whatsoever,” Kestrel assured the girl.

  “Will you go to the palace and tell Ruelin that tomorrow?” she asked.

  “We think the prince will actually welcome your report,” Creata told Kestrel. “He has not missed his fiancé during her absence.”

  “Is there, is there something I should know?” Kestrel stuttered, as he remembered the relationship that Ruelin and Picco had seemed to have nurtured even before Kestrel had left Seafare.

  “There is something,” Picco said delicately.

  “Come on Kestrel,” Wren said suddenly, standing up. “Let me take you upstairs and show you where your room will be, and more importantly, show you where your bath will be.

  “Creata, can you have someone provide some suitable clothes for Kestrel to wear while we have his present outfit washed, or burned?” she asked.

  Kestrel stood, and the two cousins said good night to the brother and sister as they left the parlor and went upstairs to the residential quarters.

  “Are you okay, Kestrel?” Wren asked as she led him around his room. “You seem sad.”

  “I’m happier than I’ve been in weeks, actually,” Kestrel replied. “I just feel like I don’t know what to do next, or why.”

  “You need to take that bath next, you big god-slayer. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow,” she said as she turned to leave.

  “So will Picco and Ruelin become a couple?” Kestrel asked as she started to walk away.

  “Now that they know Moorin is out of the picture, they’ll wait for Picco to have your baby, and then I think they’ll be married soon after that. They’ve been inseparable since you left.”

  “And you and Creata?” Kestrel asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Someone needs to keep that boy in line. I may be the one to take on the job,” Wren said with a serious expression on her face, then laughed. “Good night, cousin.”

  Kestrel slept uneasily that night – the mattress was too soft, and his stomach had trouble adjusting to the rich dinner foods they served in the embassy. He awoke early in the morning, and got up before anyone else, then walked around the grounds and out around the city streets in the early dawn light, observing the working people of the city beginning their daily routines, cleaning the streets, hauling goods, shopping in the markets for their daily food.

  He sensed that they were comfortable, cheery. Even those who had some of the least desirable jobs in the city walked with contentment in their hearts.

  “You did pretty well, for a mortal,” Growelf was suddenly walking beside him through the city.

  “My lord!” Kestrel said in astonishment. He stopped and began to bow.

  “Cease! Just get up and walk with me,” the human deity growled.

  “They’re happy now, in their limited mortal ways,” the god told Kestrel as they strolled down the street. “They feel good about the world, at least for the time being; your victory sent a shockwave of happiness out into the world.

  “Kai tells me you are moping along through your short mortal life these days,” the god lectured Kestrel. “Stop it! Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You made all these people feel better about themselves, better about their lives and the promise that tomorrow may bring better things. You have been a hero, something I never thought possible the first time I saw you.

  “So go out and celebrate! Find a tavern, find a lusty wench, and do whatever you want to do for yourself for a while,” Growelf told Kestrel. “Stop moping. You’re making Kai worried, and I don’t like that. Do I make myself clear?” the god gave Kestrel a friendly slap on the back,
and then disappeared, leaving Kestrel to stop and stand in wonder in the middle of a street.

  He turned and started to walk back towards the embassy, shaking his head in astonishment at the thought that the gods and goddesses were talking about him! Growelf had made some valid points, he realized. All the people had won when he had won; there was no longer the heavy-hearted fear about some darkness in the future, he realized. People didn’t worry that their gods would die, or their cities would be conquered, or monsters would seize them to sacrifice them. There was a raising of the whole basis of happiness around them, letting everyone feel more satisfaction.

  With a sudden insight, Kestrel realized that the general atmosphere of good feelings would fade over time, and people would start to feel less satisfied. The world would slowly, irrevocably revert to most of the old ways and standards, but it would not be his fault, while the happiness the population felt right now was something he could accept a share of the responsibility for.

  “Where have you been?” Wren asked with a note of exasperation as she watched Kestrel come strolling up the drive to the embassy half an hour later. “I was counting on having you around this morning to give me someone to take to the armory and thrash at weapons practice,” she told him.

  “I’ll gladly go to the armory with you, and thrash you if you like,” Kestrel rejoined. “But I’d like to have a bite of breakfast first. It’s so unpleasant to destroy someone on an empty stomach, I’ve noticed,” he grinned at her, as she shook her fist at him, then led him to the dining room, where Picco was already seated, eating a bowl of fruit.

  “Good morning sunshine!” she said brightly as she watched Kestrel enter the room. The three of them sat and chatted and ate together.

  “Creata isn’t an early riser, yet,” Wren observed.

  “I suspect that will change,” Picco laughed, and Kestrel felt joy in his heart at the pleasure of banter among his friends.

  He and Wren went to a nearby armory, where the nobility and elite of the city, along with the officers of the local police, were busy practicing their weapons, and Wren was greeted as a regular member when she led Kestrel in through the doors.