The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 04 - A Foreign Heart

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Jumping castles! The freak races are working together,” one of the rebels exclaimed as the imps hovered around Kestrel. “What are you doing with the likes of them, fighting lady?”

  “Stillwater,” Kestrel ignored the conversation as he looked at the terrible gash on Creata’s head. Fragmented skull bone showed through the torn scalp. “If we’re going to save him, we need to take him to the healing spring right away.

  “Here, take Wren there first so she can be ready to help put him in the water,” Kestrel ordered.

  Wren jerked her head around in surprise. “What did you say?” she asked in elvish.

  “The beauty speaks their language!” one rebel said to the other in the human speech, neither of them understanding what was happening.

  “You’re going to go to the spring first,” Kestrel explained to Wren. “The imps can’t carry more than one person except the way they brought us. Then they’ll bring Creata, and I want you to immediately put him in the spring water, and start to lade the water over his head.

  “Then,” Kestrel turned to the imps, “I want you to go to Center Trunk and get Alicia, the doctor, and take her to the spring immediately as well, so that she can examine him and decide what needs to be done.

  “I’ll stay here and make sure the staff folks are settled down,” Kestrel finished.

  “Shouldn’t you be the one to go with him, and let me stay here?” Wren argued.

  “The staff here know me and trust me, even if the fighters don’t,” Kestrel said. “And I can try to find out if Philip is in the city,” or Margo, he added to himself. “And I know the city and may be able to carry out some operations if any are needed immediately.”

  “But I’m the one who looks human, so I can stay here and blend in,” Wren rebutted. “And your friend won’t know who I am when he recovers.”

  The human rebels were torn between watching the imps and trying to watch the conversation in elvish, as they ignored the carnage around them, the dead guards whose bodies were lying about.

  “Wren, there isn’t time to argue – Creata needs to enter the water,” Kestrel answered urgently. “Stillwater, take her,” he commanded, and the imps surrounded and disappeared with Wren, a look of anger on her face as she vanished.

  “What happened to her?” one of the rebels asked.

  Moments later the imps returned.

  “Take Creata to the spring now, then go see Alicia, and tell her what has happened, and that we need her to examine him,” Kestrel instructed. “Then, after you’ve delivered her to the spring, I’d like one of you to come remain with me while the others stay at the spring.”

  “Yes sir,” Stillwater said, and the imps descended to the floor, where they reached beneath Creata’s still body, then disappeared with him.

  “What have you done? Where did they take him?” the two rebels asked.

  “There is a special spring with magical powers that can heal injuries. The imps have taken Creata to that spring so that he can live, and they took Wren so that she can tend him,” Kestrel answered, as he saw the distrust on the rebels’ faces.

  “I am a friend of Creata, and Picco, and Philip and Margo too,” he tried to explain. “My name is Kestrel, and I’ve stayed in this home many times.

  “Creata has mentioned Kestrel many times, the great warrior. He never said you were an elf,” one of the rebels bent and took a sword from a dead guard. “Now, tell those imps to bring him back.”

  “Ask the staff people,” Kestrel motioned towards the parlor. “They’ll tell you I am a friend. Wren and I just came here and saved your lives, didn’t we?”

  “You did save our lives, and we’re properly grateful. But we don’t know you, and we do know Creata is gone. We want him back, now,” the other guard answered.

  “Elise,” Kestrel called to one of the maids in the other room; he saw that the servants had been inching towards the conversation, “would all of you come in here and explain to your master’s friends that I am no enemy?”

  “Master Kestrel has been like a member of the family,” Treybon the butler spoke up. “His appearance is different, and I never would have known he was an elf when he lived here with us, but he’s been very good to Master Creata, and to Miss Picco and Miss Margo as well.”

  “He just now put a stop to the unmentionable things those criminals were doing to Elise,” one of the kitchen cooks spoke up.

  Killcen appeared in the air just then and hovered over to Kestrel. “Everyone has been transported as you wished. The warrior human girl is tending to the wounded one, and the doctor has arrived.

  “The warrior girl is not pleased with you now,” the imp warned.

  Kestrel grinned at the imp. “She wasn’t pleased with me before, either. Am I any worse off?”

  “You are an elf of great perception, my lord, but I perceive that with that one you can go from bad to worse, and I think that you have,” Killcen replied with a serious expression.

  “You, my friend, are a being of greater perception than I,” Kestrel said.

  “Killcen informs me,” Kestrel switched to the human language, “that Creata is now at the healing spring, and a doctor has been taken there to look after him. He should have the best opportunity possible to live.

  “I hope we’ll be able to see him again in just a couple of days,” he added.

  “We want to see him, to know where he is,” one of the rebels, the one with blond hair, demanded.

  “If I ask the imps to take one of you to see him at the spring, will that satisfy you?” Kestrel asked as he decided that he needed to concede something to the battered pair of Creata’s companions.

  “We both want to go,” the other rebel announced after they briefly conferred.

  Kestrel snorted in dismay. “Well, you’ll have to pay twice as much,” he answered.

  “Pay?” the blond rebel asked in surprise.

  “You know, every time you let the imps carry you anywhere, they take a little piece of your soul, and you lose a year of your life. If they carry both of you there, and then carry both of you back, that’s two trips for each of you, and two payments each,” Kestrel was tired of the distrust – distrust from these men whose lives he had just saved, distrust from Wren, distrust in Estone, distrust in Center Trunk. He felt his outrage boiling over with this last, final act.

  “Here now, Master Kestrel has done nothing but good here, and you two should trust him,” Treybon the butler spoke up, scolding the two rebels. “You may think he’s an elf, and not to be relied upon, but Master Creata trusted him. Master Philip trusts him – he’s saved Philip’s life more than once.

  “Master Philip even trusted Master Kestrel here to escort his sister up to the country manor house, along with Miss Picco, no other gentlemen needed, after Kestrel saved them all from the palace, after he took terrible punishment himself from the prince’s men. Why he was beat about as bad as Master Creata one time. The maid who found him cried for days afterwards,” Treybon’s stout defense of Kestrel wound down, and the two rebels looked down at the floor, shamefaced, as Kestrel reached out and patted the butler’s shoulder in thanks.

  “I tell you what,” Kestrel spoke up. “Let’s get some water skins, and you can take them to the spring while you go there to see Creata. That way you can bring some of the water back here, and we can use it to help heal other injuries after you satisfy yourselves that Creata is in good hands.”

  “We don’t need to go to the spring. We’ll trust you,” the dark-haired rebel spoke up, looking at Kestrel.

  “No, really, one of you should go. We could stand to have some skins of healing water here to use. Folks are going to get injured in this battle, and we need to be ready to treat them,” Kestrel insisted.

  “One of us will go if you wish, my lord,” Treybon spoke up.

  “Elise,” Kestrel looked at the disheveled young maid who had been mistreated by the prince’s guards, “I want you to take some skins to the spring, and I want you to look at Creata a
nd talk to the doctor, Alicia, while you’re there, and I want you to soak in the spring water yourself.

  “Killcen,” Kestrel switched languages, “go back to the spring and bring two other imps with you when you return. You’ll take this girl,” he pointed at Elise, “to the spring for a little while.”

  “They will be unhappy, Lord Kestrel-dream-interrupter. They are all soaking in the waters right now,” the imp informed him solemnly.

  “But not you, Killcen? You gave up a nap in the spring to come stay with me? Thank you for your loyalty,” Kestrel said heartily.

  “I lost the contest,” Killcen admitted, “or else I would have been dreaming too.

  “I will go and awaken them. We’ll return soon,” the imp said, then left.

  “He’s going to go bring some other imps back to carry you there. It will take a little while to get them,” Kestrel advised. “Are the guards likely to come back here and attack again soon?” he asked the rebels.

  “Soon, but not too soon,” the dark-headed rebel answered. “They’re spread thin around the city, trying to put down lots of uprisings.

  “You shouldn’t send that young girl to the spring. She shouldn’t lose a year of her life. We don’t need proof that Creata’s being treated proper. We’ll trust you,” he said.

  “Elise won’t lose a year of her life, or a bit of her soul. I just said that to scare you because you were being so pig-headed,” Kestrel admitted with a grin.

  The two rebels looked at him in shock, as Elise’s shoulders sagged in relief.

  “What are your names?” he asked the two rebel warriors.

  Jammer,” replied the blond man.

  “Catzen,” replied his companion.

  “We should expect Creata back here within two days. Will the house and the servants be safe for that long? Do we need to post a guard here to protect the place? And where is Philip?” Kestrel asked.

  “Lord Philip is elsewhere in the city,” Catzen answered.

  “If you know where, one or both of you should go and tell him what has happened here,” Kestrel proposed, just as three imps arrived.

  “We have come as you demanded,” Odare said crossly, beads of water still glistening on her forehead.

  “This maiden was mistreated by the villains who you chased away,” Kestrel gestured towards Elise. “After she gathers some water skins,” he motioned for the girl to do so, “would you take her to the healing spring as well, so that she may feel better?”

  “For the girl, we will do this thing,” Odare spoke with less hostility.

  Elise returned with an armful of skins, looking scared.

  “Elise, when the imps surround you to move you, there will be a few seconds of darkness, and then you will be at a spring in the woods. Wren, the other warrior who was here, will be there, and Lord Creata will be soaking in the water, and a doctor should be there as well,” Kestrel tried to explain everything to put the girl at ease. “Just tell them I want you to soak in the water for a little while, then fill those skins with water, and ask the imps to bring you back here.”

  “I will do as you wish, Master Kestrel,” the nervous girl answered as the imps descended around her. Kestrel waved at them, and then they were gone.

  “Well now, why are we all standing around?” Treybon spoke to the rest of the goggle-eyed servants. “Let’s prepare the house for his lordship’s return.” His words set off a flurry of movement, as the servants went to begin cleaning the house once again.

  “We’ll go find Lord Philip,” Jammer announced. “You’ll stay here?”

  “I will remain here,” Kestrel agreed, and watched the two rebel soldiers leave out the back of the house.

  “Treybon,” Kestrel called, leaving the dining room and going in pursuit of the butler, “the night has fallen. We need to get these bodies out of the house; is there someplace you recommend I take them and leave them?”

  The butler looked at Kestrel with gratitude. “If you would do that for us, my lord, we would be so grateful. The ladies were just asking how to handle that matter.

  “Out the back and to the left down the alley, there’s a man hole that leads down to a sewer,” the elderly servant advised. “We’ve disposed of a number of items there over the years.”

  Kestrel went to the dining room and began to undress the guards, saving their uniforms for any possible use in the future. He then spent the next several hours carrying the bodies out of the house and down the alley, walking with the dead men draped over his back. He took a break when Elise returned as the full moon rose.

  “Here are your water skins, my lord,” she reported to Kestrel, blooming with a look of good health, as she unslung the load from her shoulders. “Thank you so much for that experience! I feel so well!”

  “Your friends are so kind! They were giving the greatest attention to Lord Creata. The Doctor Alicia assured me that he will heal, and will probably be back here with us the day after tomorrow,” the girl told him. “She gave me this to give to you.”

  “And did Wren have any message to send back?” Kestrel asked as he held the folded paper.

  Elise blushed. “She said to tell you that she has nothing to say to you, and she’ll have more to tell you when she gets back,” the maid said hesitantly.

  “I’m not going to enjoy that, am I?” Kestrel asked reflectively.

  “No, my lord,” Elise quickly agreed.

  “Go get some rest, youngster. Thank you for your service to Lord Creata,” Kestrel dismissed her, knowing that he still had a pair of bodies to dispose of.

  “Not to dispute sir, but I doubt that I’m any younger than you,” the maiden said, then curtsied and left him.

  Kestrel stuck Alicia’s note in his pocket, eager to read it, but determined to finish his task, and returned to the dirty work he had at hand. Later, after the work was finished, he went to the kitchen and laid a pallet for himself on the kitchen floor, determined to be able to spring to the immediate defense of the house if the prince’s forces returned during the night.

  He slept uneasily, his dreams haunted by visions of the dead bodies he had listened to splashing in the stream that flowed in the bottom of the sewer line. He was relieved when the kitchen cooks started their morning routine, unintentionally awakening him, then apologizing when they saw him arise.

  Kestrel helped with some or the repairs around the home during the morning, and in the afternoon, he gratefully accepted a simple lunch from Cookie in the kitchen. As he sat down in the cleaned dining room with his plate of food, Stillwater appeared.

  “Lord Kestrel, is everything well here?” the imp asked, as he floated into a seat at the table next to Kestrel.

  “Fine for now,” Kestrel answered. “The house is peaceful at the moment. How is the situation at the spring?”

  “Not good,” Stillwater said gravely. “Too many imps and sprites keep coming and going. The human woman is not used to serving so many others at once, I think. She has told Dewberry to stop inviting them all. She is not a happy person now.”

  Kestrel smiled at the notion of Wren facing a continual stream of blue-skinned clients demanding to be placed in or removed from the waters at the spring. “How is Creata doing?” he asked, then thought of Alicia, and suddenly remembered the unread note he had received the night before.

  And at that moment, Philip entered the room.

  “So it’s true – you’re the king of the imps!” Kestrel heard Philip’s voice behind him, just as he was about to reach into his pocket and pull out Alicia’s missive.

  “Philip!” Kestrel turned to see his noteworthy friend standing at the entry to the room, with a half dozen other rebel fighters lining the wall behind him.

  They embraced in a stout hug, then looked at one another. “Gentlemen,” Philip spoke to his followers, “this is our best friend not born in Graylee. I give him the rank of captain of the Free Army of Graylee, and ask you all to treat him as if he were my own brother.”

  “But he’s an elf! Loo
k at him,” one of the guards spat out.

  “This man has saved my life at least three times; he’s broken me out of the prince’s dungeons twice. He’s set free every leader we have in the Free Army,” Philip instantly responded in a harsh voice.

  “Kestrel is Kai’s own chosen champion,” Philip added after a moment of silence.

  “If he asked for my sister’s hand in marriage, I’d say yes,” Philip said. “I wouldn’t even let you date her,” he told the defiant guard, though in a humorous tone and with a smile, bringing laughter from the rebels. “Not that she’s available for either of you to call upon her, of course,” he added

  “Where is Creata, and how is he?” Philip asked, turning to Kestrel.

  “He’s at the healing spring, being tended to,” Kestrel answered, wondering at the meaning of Philip’s last comment.

  “Is that the same spring you went to after the Prince’s thugs tortured you in the palace?” Philip pointedly asked, letting the rebels know that Kestrel had suffered at the hands of the palace.

  “It is. Stillwater,” Kestrel turned to the imp, who was being watched with fascination by the rebels, “Will the injured human be able to return here soon?” he asked in the elvish language.

  “I will go see,” the imp answered, and then vanished from the room, drawing a round of gasps from the audience.

  “He’ll go check on Creata and bring back further word,” Kestrel announced. “You say that Margo is not available for our comrade to pay attention to?” he asked Philip.

  “In all likelihood, no, even if Barston,” Philip indicated the rebel, “took a bath more than once a year and shaved before every festival. I just recently answered a letter, a letter of request from the head of her militia, Squire Huff. I was writing as the head of her family – given our father’s death – and I granted Huff the permission he sought to seek her hand in marriage.

  “I imagine the letter has been delivered by now,” Philip said, “and the good squire has probably made his case to my sister. He’s a good man, from a good family in the area. His family has been pledged to support my family’s estate for many generations, and with the way this civil war has removed so many prominent families and turned our society upside down, I couldn’t refuse to allow her to make a match with the man who has been loyally by her side and protected her these many months.”