All the imps turned their attention from Dewberry to Kestrel as he spoke, then immediately turned to look at Dewberry again, expecting another bon mot.
“He must have one of the house maids in mind,” she spoke in a tone of puzzlement, “if his Margo and the other one – what’s her name? – Picco, if they aren’t in the unfriendly humans’s city, I don’t know why else he’d go there.”
“And just for good measure, let’s teach them to go to Estone, to the palace there,” Kestrel gave an additional goal. “I may want to bring a human ally along from time to time, or I may need to go see the Doge for some favor.”
“Ah,” Dewberry said knowingly, her fingers tapping her chest above her heart, “the human woman there was one I was sure Kestrel was going to marry to try to cover up the tears he shed because he found out I was beyond his reach. He was in Estone when I told him I was engaged to Jonson, and the look in his eyes was,” she paused and sighed dramatically, “so sad.”
“Firheng is the other place I want to teach this squad of imps to travel to,” Kestrel listed the last location he had in mind, a place where he thought he could recruit elves who spoke human languages and fought with human and elven weapons. He’d not been to Firheng in over a year, but he knew the training post there had the capacity to produce some of the best potential fighters he might need in upcoming battles.
“And at Firheng he dreamt of me but devoted his attention to,” Dewberry paused, “what woman did you devote your attention to in Firheng, Kestrel?”
“You and only you, of course,” Kestrel replied, pleased to have the opportunity to turn the tables on Dewberry at last, as he tilted his head and batted his eyes adoringly while staring at the sprite.
“There! See that? That’s the look he gives me every night when he calls upon me and asks me to tuck him into bed!” Dewberry crowed triumphantly, as the whole room broke down in laughter.
“Okay,” Kestrel finally said minutes later, as the laughter died down, and everyone sensed that the time had come to begin to focus on the planned activities for the day. “Let’s get on with this. Dewberry, if you will share the knowledge you use to go to the places you know, the places I’ve just mentioned, then we can all start traveling to each of them,” he said. “Once you sprites and imps know a physical location, you can always travel there forever after, can’t you?” he asked, and watched his companions nod their heads.
“Then when you know all these places, we will be able to move freely among all the places I can think of where there may be friends and resources we need in our battle against the monster lizards, the forces coming from Uniontown to attack and take over our lands,” Kestrel said. “Why don’t we get started?”
“Where to first, Warden?” Stillwater spoke up. The imp was the leader of the band that was assigned to Kestrel. He had taken a shine to Kestrel’s official title among the elves, the Warden of the Marshes, and attempted to use it as frequently as possible.
“Let’s go to Center Trunk, and tell Silvan and the palace what has happened here,” Kestrel proposed.
“I suppose you want to arrive in the maiden’s bedroom, as usual?” Dewberry asked, sitting up after lying flat while floating in the air.
“We can go there, and arrange to have a different room established as our regular arrival point for future purposes,” Kestrel said with a blush.
Dewberry and the imps circled around Kestrel, and he prepared himself for traveling in the disconcerting manner the blue races employed. He took a deep breath, and just as he did, he found himself no longer in the room in the Hydrotaz palace. He found the numbing darkness all around him for several uncountable seconds, and then he was standing in Alicia’s bedroom – he and the imps and Dewberry standing alone in the thankfully empty room.
“Let’s go see who we can find,” Kestrel said to his troop, nonetheless feeling a vague sense of disappointment that Alicia wasn’t in the room to greet him, though he had no reason to expect her to be there in the middle of the day. He opened the door, then paused, as Stillwater spoke.
“Do you want us to wait for you, friend Kestrel?” the imp asked.
Kestrel realized after a moment’s pause that the question carried implied questions within it. The imps and sprites had not in recent time exposed themselves to the terrestrial inhabitants of the lands around the Inner Seas, except under peculiar circumstances, which had recently been frequently provoked by Kestrel himself. The sprites had been considered to be virtually non-existent, while imps were known to be reclusive neighbors to the elves, living in the Swampy Morass, but were discussed much more than they were seen, and they were seldom discussed.
Kestrel knew that the imps and sprites had imposed their separation from humans and elves upon themselves, out of a lack of any need to interact with the earth-bound races. They had broken the unwritten law of separation after Kestrel and Dewberry had developed their own deep and unusual friendship. Now, with their acknowledged roles as races that were allies in their fight against the Viathins, or monster lizards, or Uniontown – whatever name one used, they all meant the same evil opponent – it no longer seemed to matter so much that the blue beings stayed out of sight.
And Stillwater’s quartet had been specifically assigned to accompany and assist Kestrel, so, he concluded, Jonson must not intend these companions to be invisible.
“Why don’t you come with me?” Kestrel answered after the medley of thoughts raced through his mind. “No reason to hide you. Who knows, having such exotic companions might make me more alluring to the elven maidens, since Dewberry no longer will succumb to my charms,” he added as a comment to revive the sprite’s engagement in the conversation.
“No longer succumb? You imply that there was a time when I would have succumbed, and a true queen and lady does not discuss such things,” Dewberry replied with an immediate sniff. “But there is no doubt that we must raise your status by letting you be seen with us.”
“I don’t know if Lucretia would have ever even given me the time of day if she hadn’t seen Dewberry talking to me on the day of the tournament,” Kestrel reflected aloud. It seemed like such a little thing now, but it had carried such dramatic ramifications, and his thoughts wandered towards Kere, the elven goddess of fortune, wondering how many small events she might have arranged over the course of the past few years to create such long-lasting changes.
Kestrel walked up the stairs, passing two officers in the building who stopped and stared in silence at the extraordinary parade that floated tranquilly along behind Kestrel. Chion, the stoic guard of Silvan’s door, was Kestrel’s target, and for the first time in their limited acquaintance, Kestrel had the satisfaction of seeing the taciturn guard’s aplomb dashed as Kestrel and his followers approached.
“Great gods! Kestrel, what are you bringing?” the guard called loudly, backing towards Silvan’s door.
“I’ve just arrived from Hydrotaz with a report for Colonel Silvan,” Kestrel replied. “Could you please let him know I’m here? We’re in a hurry; we have several places we need to go yet today after this.”
The guard’s fingers fumbled behind his back to find the handle to Silvan’s door, then wrenched the door open, allowing Chion to disappear inside. Kestrel stood in the hallway and grinned at his friends. “We’re off to a better start than I expected,” he told Stillwater.
The moments seemed to drag out, then the door down the hall, the one that led directly to Silvan’s office, opened, and the commander of the elven intelligence efforts looked out the door personally.
“Kestrel! What are you trying to do? Give my poor guard a nervous breakdown?” he asked with an uncanny ability to determine Kestrel’s motive. “Come down here and come in, and bring all your blue friends along with you. I want introductions!”
Kestrel stepped promptly down the hallway and entered the door as Silvan held it open. The officer nodded politely to each of the imps as they floated past him. Within the room Kestrel found Chion standing at attention, h
is nerves calmed as he resumed his steady, rigid posture.
“Kestrel, please introduce Chion to your friends, and let him know if he should expect them to be regular visitors,” Silvan directed as he closed the door after Dewberry brought up the rear of the entourage.
“Chion, this is Stillwater. He is the commander of my assigned squad of imps. Stillwater, this is Guardsman Chion,” Kestrel obliged Silvan, and then introduced Canyon, Killcen, and Odare, the other imps.
“And this is the queen of the imps, although she’s really a sprite. This is her highness, Dewberry,” Kestrel introduced his friend last. “She likes to go skinny-dipping,” he added.
“Kestrel-traitor-friend!” Dewberry gasped, as her regal poise was shattered by his unexpected tweak of her tail. “That was at the spring of magical waters, where one must disrobe to enjoy the water’s effect.”
“That’s someplace we need to add to our list of spots to visit,” Kestrel said aloud, realizing that it would be important for the imps to know how to go there and take him there. His comment set off a chorus of hums of approval.
“Chion, you are dismissed,” Silvan spoke up. “Now that you know these imps and sprites, please admit any of them immediately to see me if they arrive with a message to deliver,” Silvan let the guard depart from the room so that he could return to the comfort of his post.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Silvan asked, returning to the seat behind his desk. “Shouldn’t you be in Hydrotaz?”
“We have just come from there,” Kestrel replied, sitting down as his companions floated complacently about the room. “There was a battle, and our forces played a great role in helping Hydrotaz defeat the Graylee invasion. The invaders left the field of battle, the city was saved, and there is now some slight approval of elves among the leaders of the kingdom, beyond just the princess.”
“Do you think it will last? Humans are notoriously fickle in their friendship,” Silvan asked. “Other than Estone,” he amended his broad condemnation.
“I hope so. I would suggest that you assign Lucretia to become the Eastern Forest’s first ambassador to Hydrotaz, so that we have someone in the city to remind them that we are allies,” Kestrel answered.
“Have you asked her about this grand vision of yours?” Silvan asked. “I’m skeptical about putting her in danger’s way among the humans, especially after the treatment she suffered from them in the past.”
“I’ve asked her, and she’s accepted. She speaks the language, so she’s a logical choice,” Kestrel answered. “And Giardell has asked to stay with her as her chief of security.”
Silvan raised an eyebrow quietly, and the quiet moments drifted by, as Kestrel bit his tongue. He didn’t want to speak up, to appear to be defensive for having taken Giardell, and now appear defensive for offering this opportunity for the estranged guard to begin to reclaim a purpose in his life.
“Well,” Silvan finally said, no longer able to outwait Kestrel’s silence. “You seem to have accomplished many things.”
“It is all meant to help,” Kestrel said in a meeker tone, satisfied that for now the spy chief seemed to accept the arrangement.
“And that about wraps it up,” he suddenly felt uncomfortable; he sensed that nothing could be accomplished by trying to talk to the dissatisfied Silvan at the present time. “I think it’s time for us to move on,” he said as he briskly rose from his seat.
“”Move on? Where are you going?” Silvan asked, also rising quickly to try to catch up.
“we’re on a training mission of sorts,” Kestrel explained. “Dewberry and I are showing the imps where I may wish to go in a hurry or for needful purposes. This was the first place we came.”
“Where will you go next?” Silvan asked.
“I think we’ll go to Estone, to the palace,” Kestrel replied. He felt uncomfortable with Silvan in the dense atmosphere that had darkened the room once Kestrel had mentioned Giardell. He decided he wasn’t going to tell the spymaster that Kestrel also planned to go to Firheng, the spy-training facility of the elves. He’d mention it some other time, if he felt he needed to use the resources that Casimo kept in the guard base in the small city. And Kestrel would be so pleased to see Arlen again, the trainer who had done so much to successfully prepare Kestrel to join the human world.
“But weren’t we going…?” Dewberry started to ask, before Kestrel spoke up.
“Let’s go to the palace in Estone,” Kestrel cut her off before she could possibly reveal Firheng as a destination.
“I’ll report back from time to time as things develop,” he addressed Silvan as the imps surrounded him.
“Won’t you even stay to see Alicia? She’ll be sorry to have missed you,” Silvan protested, just as the imps departed from his office, taking Kestrel with them.
As he entered the dimension between places, the ether through which the imps traveled, and tolerated the moments of paralysis, Kestrel tried to evaluate Silvan’s last comment. Had the old man truly wanted Kestrel to see his young wife? Could Silvan really not be as jealous of his wife as Kestrel thought he had seemed to be when Kestrel mentioned Giardell, her former lover? Perhaps Kestrel had misunderstood what Silvan’s reaction had been. There would be time to go back and discover further, he told himself. And he hadn’t gotten to the point in the conversation of asking for a new spot the imps could be assigned to land in after all, so he might wind up seeing Alicia on his next return to Center Trunk in any event, if the doctor were in her room when they returned.
They reached the room in the palace of the Estonian Doge, and Kestrel was happy to see the sun shining brightly through the windows, offering an opportunity to brighten his thoughts after the dissatisfying results of his visit to Center Trunk.
“Will you need us to escort you here, friend Kestrel, or may we be excused for a brief time?” Stillwater asked.
“I told them you would want to have some private time with that human who enticed you briefly while you were mourning over my unavailability,” Dewberry said.
Kestrel smiled, glad to hear the laughter in the voices of his blue companions, although the reference to Armilla did tweak his conscious, reminding him of the relationship that had not been consummated, a romance left dangling without a satisfactory ending.
“By all means, if you all would like to go off for a bit, please do so. I’ll call you when I need your help,” Kestrel said. “Thank you for what you’ve done so far today,” he added. “We’ll still plan to go to the healing spring sometime soon.”
With smiling faces, the imps and sprite left Kestrel alone in the palace suite that was reserved for him, and he stepped over to the door, contemplating the message he would deliver. He was there only to inform the Doge’s advisors of what was happening, and to ask them to be prepared to send assistance when needed, and he didn’t believe the message would fall on deaf ears. Moresond would be the logical choice of a first person to approach, for the herald would know who to arrange a meeting with.
With that he left the room and walked down the hall, only a short distance, before he met a guard patrolling a cross corridor in a leisurely manner.
“What’s an elf doing in the palace?” the guard asked, in a skeptical but not hostile tone.
“I am Kestrel, the Protector,” Kestrel identified himself, acknowledging to himself how long he had been away from the palace and how quickly celebrity status could fade away. “I’m here in search of Moresond. Could you help me find the herald?”
“You’re the protector? I guess you are an elf, now that I remember; it’s been a while since we’ve seen you. May I see your chest, the gift from the goddess?” the guard asked pleasantly.
Kestrel paused, as he considered for the first time one particular impact of the loss of the colorful image the goddess Kai had inscribed upon the skin of his chest. He had received the mark of Kai while in Estone, in the chapel located right in the palace, and the news of Kai’s extraordinary mark had gone a long way towards establishing Kestre
l’s heroic status among the Estonians.
He would have to explain the loss of the mark, and his explanation would strain the credulity of his listeners, he knew.
“The goddess’s gifts are gone. The gifts the gods gave me contained their own powers, and they needed their powers back to maintain their strength in the battles they fight. I still have the scar from Kai, and the ship tattoo for being a Captain of the Fleet,” Kestrel said as he opened his shirt, then pulled it up over his head to show his marks.
“That’s the ship mark of a Captain, for sure, and that dainty handprint’s a one-of-a-kind scar, but that doesn’t prove you’re the Doge’s champion, not to me,” the guard said, his hand slowly going to the pommel of his sword “You’ve got the right to be in the palace, but I don’t know that an elf who’s a Captain of the Fleet is supposed to be back here in the residential wing.
“Let’s go to an audience room and meet with Moresond?” Kestrel suggested, as he pulled his shirt back down over his head.
“You think the herald will vouch for you?” the guard asked. He seemed to relax slightly, and waited for Kestrel to finish redressing. “We’ll need to go this way,” he pointed, then walked silently alongside Kestrel as they journeyed through the palace and reached a small, elegant parlor just a few minutes later.
He waited alone until the door abruptly swung open, and Moresond, the Herald of the Palace, appeared. The dark-haired man stood in the door frame and studied Kestrel. “You’re the goddess’s own hero, I know. But you are looking like an elf today, and what’s this I hear about Kai’s mark being gone? Did she take her mark and her ring from you?
“No, I see the ring on your finger; you’re just not looking human,” Moresond answered his own question.
“Well, I’m pleased to see you,” Moresond stepped away from the door and into the room. “Are you well?”
They shook hands as Kestrel answered. “I’ve had some rough moments, but I feel well now. We’re still fighting the war against Uniontown’s evil, and I think there’s a clear path that leads to success, if we all work together.”
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 04 - A Foreign Heart Page 2
