“When will the wedding be?” Stillwater asked.
“In about a fortnight, I think,” Kestrel answered. “I didn’t receive an actual invitation directly, so I don’t know many details,” he said.
“Are you sure you are truly invited?” Stillwater asked. “Am I not invited? Perhaps neither of us is invited?” the imp posed the suggestion.
“You think we should go to Seafare ourselves, to directly discover whether we will be guests or not?” Kestrel realized what Stillwater was suggesting.
“If that is what you want to do, we will,” Stillwater affirmed instantly. He paused, and moments later, Odare and Killcen arrived.
“We shall take Kestrel to see cousin Wren mighty blade,” Stillwater informed the other two arrivals. “There is a rumor that she is to be married, and Kestrel frets that he has no invitation.”
“I do not fret,” Kestrel replied quickly.
“Do not feel defensive, Kestrel wallflower,” Odare spoke up. “Not all elves can be as engaging and personable as Wren charmer is. She could almost be an imp, her personality is so wonderful!”
“We will take Kestrel to Seafare,” Stillwater pronounced. “Shall we go?” he asked as the imps collapsed upon Kestrel, and spirited him away from his Oaktown office.
Chapter 28
The group entered the gray nothingness of transit, and moments later exited it, as they arrived in Seafare.
They arrived in the palace nursery, where Picco happened to be rocking her and Kestrel’s daughter, Merea to sleep.
When the collection of imp and elf travelers arrived unexpectedly in front of her, she gave a little shriek, which woke her daughter from her nap, and set the child to crying.
“Oh Kestrel, welcome!” Picco cried in surprise. “But look what you’ve done,” she added in exasperation as she held the baby up.
“We didn’t mean to waken the baby,” he protested, feeling guilty.
“We thought you would like to play the throw-the-baby-game,” Odare said enthusiastically, hovering down close to the whimpering child.
“No!” Picco said loudly, causing Merea to cry more loudly, before she quieted as she looked curiously at the blue imp that hovered nearby.
“Picco, it’s grand to see you,” Kestrel said. He approached the woman and knelt over her to envelope both her and the baby in a hug. He’d not seen them since he’d begun the first stages of his trip towards the land of the Skyes. Much had happened in his life since then, while Merea had grown in a visible manner since then.
“There will be no baby-tossing games,” she said firmly. She awkwardly rose from the chair, then extended an open arm to hug Kestrel, the child sandwiched between the two of them.
“Where have you been?” she asked as she released her hold around his neck. “Wren has been back here for weeks. She’s getting married!”
“See, everyone knows about the wedding except us!” Killcen said angrily. “We try to befriend the humans, and this is how they return the favor.”
“Perhaps if we pull a few pranks at the wedding, they will remember to invite us next time,” Odare suggested.
“Such as buckets of water on the bride?” Killcen suggested.
“Or perhaps grease on the stairs,” Stillwater offered.
“We could put ink in the drinking goblets,” Odare added.
“Or we could go find out if Wren wants to invite you, but doesn’t know how to reach you,” Kestrel cut them off, seeing the horrified expression on Picco’s face.
“They were just teasing, of course,” he told the wife of the prince of Seafare.
“May I take Merea with me?” he asked.
“You’re not going to throw her, are you?” Picco clutched the child protectively.
“Not very far,” Kestrel teased, and watched Picco’s grip on the baby tighten.
“No, of course not. We won’t throw her at all,” he placated her.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Picco asked, as she held the baby out for Kestrel to take.
He gathered the bundle in, and kissed the top of the baby’s head. “No, not really,” he told her.
“Let me lead you there,” Picco insisted. She swept past Kestrel and the hovering imps, as she walked directly to the door, then left the room as she strode down the hall.
Kestrel and the imps followed, drawing gasps of surprise from the people along the route who were astonished to see the strangers.
“This is Wren’s suite here,” Picco swept her hand in front of a door. “Let me go tell her you’re here.”
“Can’t we go introduce ourselves?” Odare asked. “Wren wouldn’t mind, after all we’ve been through,” and so saying, the imp floated up and flew through the open transom above the door, quickly followed by the other two imps.
“I might as well join them,” Kestrel reasoned out loud. He carried Merea in one hand as he opened the door with his other hand, and entered the suite.
Wren was in the center of the room, laughing, as the three imps circled around her, chattering at her and roundly lambasting her for leaving them off the list of guests.
“Oh, now look what you’ve done!” she told them.
“I was going to send invitations to you secretly, without telling Kestrel. But now you’ve gone and mucked that all up,” she complained.
“Oh, Kestrel,” she affected to suddenly notice him. “What are you doing in Seafare?”
“We heard there’s a wedding, so we came to find out the details,” he replied as he carried Merea towards her.
She looked at him with a solemn expression, as the imps ceased moving and became stationary, and he had a moment of doubt, a mental question of whether she might have truly intended not to invite him and the imps to her wedding.
“You demi-god scoundrel!” she laughed suddenly, then opened her arms and hugged him and his daughter together. “You look good,” she added, rubbing her fingertips across the skin that had previously been scarred from the battle in Uniontown.
“Yes, there’s to be a wedding in two weeks’ time. I hope all of you can keep yourselves occupied and out of trouble for that long,” she said.
“We’re not here for the wedding, yet,” Odare said. “We just wanted to make sure we’re invited.”
“Well of course you’re invited. It’s just very difficult for humans to deliver invitations to elves and imps,” she explained.
“Perhaps if the wedding wasn’t happening so hastily,” Kestrel suggested.
“It’s not that hasty!” Wren protested, lightly punching his shoulder. “I’ve been back here for weeks. Creata said we just had to do it, immediately, before the next world-ending emergency came along, and so we set a date.
“Simple as that,” she told him. “And don’t you tell anyone anything else otherwise!”
“All of you are invited,” she turned to the imps. “And you’ll need to invite Acanthus, and Mulberry, Dewberry and the king. All the imps who have been part of the battles I’ve been in,” she told them.
“Can you tell us what day and time?” Odare inquired.
“Two weeks from tomorrow,” Wren said instantly. Kestrel wondered if a clock in her mind was constantly counting down towards the wedding time. “Midway between noon and sunset.”
“Thank you for your graciousness,” Stillwater said. “We’ll stop bothering you now.
“Kestrel friend, would you please stop playing with the baby and prepare to go now?” the imp asked.
“But she’s so cute, and I haven’t seen her in months,” Kestrel protested.
“Perhaps you should bring her with us back to Oaktown,” Odare offered.
“Can you imagine what Picco would say?” Kestrel laughed. “She’s send the entire Seafare army and navy to get her back.”
“And they’d come back with my daughter, you bet,” Picco spoke from behind him, having entered the room without his realization. The baby started at the sound of her mother’s voice, and Kestrel regretfully turned her back over to Pic
co.
“We now know what we need to know. You may expect to see us here on the day of your wedding. We prefer mushroom cakes,” Killcen explained.
“And you’ll bring Lark as your guest?” Wren asked Kestrel.
“Actually,” Kestrel faltered, “I haven’t seen Lark in a few weeks. I returned to Oaktown after I defeated the last of the Triplets.”
“Oh, we sent an invitation to Lark in Uniontown, and I thought that was where you had heard about the wedding,” Wren spoke less certainly than usual, suddenly aware that she had raised an awkward topic.
“No,” Kestrel decided to tell the story, to get it out in the open. But he’d tell it as briefly as possible.
“You saw my scars,” he spoke to Wren, with a gesture. “Lark thought that my appearance would not be suitable for the needs of supporting her father.”
“You look perfectly fine!” Picco exclaimed. “What was she talking about?”
“Kestrel was in a battle against a sorceress – magic against magic. He had some nasty burns that left some scars all over his face,” Wren explained.
“He looked pretty bad, worse than usual,” she said.
“He looks perfectly fine,” Picco protested. “He needs a haircut, of course,” she added, making Kestrel momentarily touch his fingers to his hair.
“He’s undoubtedly been to his fabled healing spring. Haven’t you, Kestrel?” Wren asked.
“For many days,” he agreed. “There’s still a small bit of scar that the spring water can’t heal, on my shoulder.”
“Didn’t she know the scars would heal?” Picco asked.
“It wasn’t as obvious to her. She’s not really ever been away from Uniontown, except when she went to the land of the Skyes with Kestrel and I, so she may not grasp the extraordinary things that are possible,” Wren shrugged.
“I’m sorry, Kestrel,” she turned to her cousin.
“It’s past,” he said. “I’ve got lots of things to do, to keep me busy.
“She told me I wasn’t right for her, so I left, and that’s that,” he said. “Her dad may be the king of Uniontown by now.”
“Do you know what they call Kestrel in Uniontown?” Wren changed the topic. “He’s called the Destroyer!”
“That sounds appropriate,” Odare chirped. “Kestrel, the destroyer of women’s hearts.”
“But he’s so sweet!” Picco protested. “That’s a ridiculous name!”
Odare snorted.
“I think it’s time for us to go,” Kestrel said. “I need to get back to Oaktown, and then to Hydrotaz. I’m going to travel here with Yulia and Philip,” he explained.
“That will be fun!” Pico said enthusiastically. “They’re getting married soon too, you know.”
“I know,” Kestrel smiled. “I imagine we’ll all get together for that wedding too.”
“And there will be imps there as well!” Odare announced. “We will be practically a part of the human culture.”
“We had better go, before she gets carried away,” Stillwater said.
“Good bye ladies. It was a pleasure to visit, and to see you well. We’ll be back,” Kestrel promised, as the imps closed in on him and spirited him back to Oaktown.
“Will you wait a few minutes while I pack, then carry me to Hydrotaz?” Kestrel asked.
“Were you informed that we were going to carry the great one around on so many missions today?” Killcen asked Stillwater.
“I wasn’t even aware we were invited to a wedding until an hour ago,” Stillwater protested.
“And now you’re going to two weddings among humans, without even performing any pranks,” Kestrel spoke up. “Now, let me rush around a bit, and I’ll be ready to go.”
He hurriedly packed a few belongings, and acquired several gold and silver coins from Whyte. “I’ll come back for a visit in a few days to do whatever you need,” he told the steward, and then he was back at the patio outside his room, where the imps waited. Moments later he was back in the elven embassy in Hydrotaz, then on his way to the palace.
“You’re late!” Greyson told him when he was admitted to the palace. “Yulia has her entourage sitting astride their horses, ready to depart without you.”
“Is there a horse for me?” Kestrel asked.
“Yes, the gray one right next to the princess,” the boy informed him, as they trotted towards the gates near the stables.
“Kestrel!” Ferris was holding the horse’s reins as the gates began to open. “He’s here, your majesty,” the officer called to the princess, who sat astride a horse just a few feet away as Ferris spotted Kestrel arriving.
She turned and saw Kestrel, her expression one of both relief and exasperation.
“My lord elf! We thought we would have to leave you behind,” she said. “I’m most happy you’ll be able to join us.”
Kestrel quickly secured his belongings to the saddle, then climbed aboard.
“I’d hate to miss the chance to ride with the nobles of my neighbor, Hydrotaz,” he grinned at the princess.
The procession left the palace under sunny skies, a dozen and a half nobles and servants on horseback, with a dozen more horses carrying provisions and goods. They traveled on the main road between the two kingdoms. Kestrel spoke with Yulia from time to time, but her attention was much sought after by the nobles in the group, few of whom Kestrel knew, so he often rode alone, without conversation, enjoying the relaxation and the chance to indulge in quiet reflection.
As they rode, clouds began to move across the sky from the west, growing darker and drifting lower as the group continued to ride.
“They know who you are, of course,” Yulia rode up close, starting a conversation.
“Beg pardon, your majesty?” he said.
“My nobles; they know who you are, and they’re talking about you. The countess with the blue hood even claims to have gone to the temple when you were in your religious ecstasy; she says she saw you building the statute of Kai.”
“But?” Kestrel sensed there was something the princess wanted to say.
“But you’re an elf, and they are comfortable with one another, and still a little unsteady in the world after watching their nation be conquered and subjugated, so they don’t know if they have anything to say to you,” Yulia explained.
As she finished, the first scattered, fat raindrops started to fall among the riders.
“Shall I give them something to talk about?” Kestrel asked with a crooked grin.
He raised his hand theatrically over his head, then whirled it around. At the same time he called upon his powers and released them as a wide shield overhead, an umbrella that spread across the circumference of their group, intercepting the increasing number of rain drops while casting its cool blue glow across the surrounding countryside.
“My lady!” one of the courtiers cried out is astonishment.
“No, this is courtesy of his lordship,” Yulia responded.
After that display of power, the members of the group exhibited two behaviors. The larger part of them were disconcerted by the power of the elf lord, and shied away from him. But a few felt drawn to discover more, and began to talk to him and ride along with him as they traveled for the next few days on the way to Graylee.
Kestrel used his powers to provide light for the camp in the morning and the evening, and he left the group one evening to fly away with the imps on a trip to visit both Oaktown and the healing spring, then returned to the Hydrotaz camp with water skins full of healing water.
To those who were saddle sore or otherwise uncomfortable, Kestrel offered his water for quick relief, and he made more converts. By the last night on the road, when the group stayed at a hotel in a small Graylee city not far from the capitol city, Kestrel was invited by several of the nobles to join them for dinner in the common room.
He gladly sat in the public room and ate with Yulia, her nobles, and their guards, watching over a mixture of other travelers and Graylee residents also enjoying the hos
pitality of the inn.
“What’s the elf doing with you?” one inebriated local man shouted from the bar at the end of the dining room.
“He’s eating dinner,” a young count shouted back.
“Put him outside to eat with the animals,” another drunkard spouted.
“He’s practically eating with animals now if he’s this close to you,” another nobleman replied.
Kestrel tried to calm the Hydrotaz noblemen down, telling them not to worry or to let the hecklers stir up any trouble.
“They can’t be allowed to throw insults at you, not when you could probably beat them both with just your magic,” one of the other Hydrotaz noblemen protested.
“That’s why we ignore them, because we know we could beat then anytime,” Kestrel tried to counsel.
“You are the friend of our princess, and of their own ruler!” the young count protested. “They should give you thanks instead of insults.”
At that point a mug of ale was flung at Kestrel. It crashed into his shoulder, splashing him in ale, and drawing a raucous round of cheers.
Kestrel stood up, and began to glow blue, hushing the crowd instantly.
“Does the man who threw this want to say who he is?” Kestrel asked, holding the mug as he climbed off his bench and stalked towards the suddenly frightened hooligans. A volley of mugs flew at him from several of the incredulous men, but Kestrel raised a shield that blocked all their efforts.
“All of you, out of the inn, now,” Kestrel ordered. There was a scramble, and he pursued them outside.
“Being an elf is an honor; let’s see if you can live up to it!” he shouted. He pointed his finger at the men as they scattered and ran, then fired bolts of blue energy at each of them, knocking them into the dusty road.
When they arose, each of them had exaggeratedly pointed ears and arched eyebrows, caricatures of elves. They did not see the changes in themselves at first, and so only rose from the road and kept running, heading to the safety they hoped to find in their homes.
“That was ironic,” a voice behind him said. He turned to see one of the noble ladies had followed him out of the inn. She was the countess that Yulia had pointed out to him on the first day of travels, the one who claimed to have seen him in action creating the statue of Kai at the temple in Hydrotaz. Despite her declared familiarity with him, she had not made any effort to speak to him during the trip, until that moment.
A Marriage of Friends (The Inner Seas Kingdoms Book 8) Page 34
