The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 04 - A Foreign Heart

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Do you feel sad about not having her?” the strawberry blond head asked, her forehead against his, their eyes nearly touching.

  “I used to think it was possible someday that we would be a couple,” Kestrel answered. “But then I was gone so long, and while I was gone,” his caution relaxed by the wine, he told Picco the story of the false Moorin, his enchantment by her, and the shocking revelation of her true identity.

  “And your mother’s spirit just said I will travel a long road to find my love,” he concluded, as he placed his arms beneath Picco and stood up, sweeping her up into his grasp, as she held on with her arms around his neck. He carried her down the hallway, until she told him to enter a doorway.

  “This is my bedroom,” she told him. “We’ll sleep here tonight.” And so they did, their arms wrapped around each other, two people who had come to realize how much they cared for one another but who also understood that fate was going to call them to go separate ways.

  Chapter 8 – Return to the East Forest

  When Kestrel awoke, Picco was already gone from the bed, and he heard her moving about the house.

  Somewhere out there in the world was a real Moorin, and from what the spirit had said of him the previous day, he believed that his fate was going to eventually lead him to her. The outcome would be different from what he had imagined the first time Kere had mentioned her name to him, when he hadn’t known enough about the world to imagine a fraction of the adventures that had come to pass.

  “Rise and shine, sleepy head,” Picco’s voice called as she approached down the hallway. “I want to get into the village and secure some help to keep the estate running.” She came in to the room with a glass of juice that Kestrel gratefully accepted, and soon after that they were strolling down the road, towards the nearest village; the people of the village had traditionally turned to the estate for leadership and governance, so that Picco was recognized and offered condolences by many of the residents she passed.

  Picco received odd glances for her appearance with an elf beside her, but no questions were raised, as she talked to the former servants, and persuaded them that further attacks on the home would not happen. By midafternoon she had all the arrangement made that were needed for all the former staff to return.

  “We’re ready to go back to Graylee,’ she told Kestrel as they walked back up the hill to the estate. “Let’s go say good bye to the house and then be on our way back to Graylee.”

  Soon thereafter, once Picco had walked through all the rooms and wistfully recollected her mother’s burial, she nodded to Kestrel. “Stillwater, Stillwater, Stillwater,” he called, and the imp appeared immediately.

  “Kestrel absent leader friend, I rejoice to hear from you and know that you are alive,” Stillwater greeted him. “Lovely human woman, I celebrate your continued life too,” he politely added.

  “We are ready to return to Graylee, if you think they will still remember us and accept us there,” Kestrel told his friend. Stillwater looked at him silently, and Kestrel could see from the faraway look in the imp’s eye’s that he was exercising that silent means the imps and sprites shared that allowed them to communication.

  Odare, Canyon, and Killcen appeared next to Stillwater. “We are here! Are you going to return and begin leading us all towards a great battle, a tumultuous conflict, in which we will defeat the evil ones?” Odare asked.

  “That sounds a bit dramatic,” Kestrel told the imp wryly.

  “I offer such drama as a special service, just for you, Kestrel friend!” she flashed her blue smile.

  “Let’s get ready, Picco,” Kestrel held out his hand, and as the girl stepped over to take it, he pulled her into another cozy hug, feeling again a special bond with the girl, and a regret that the spirit of her mother had prophesized they would go on to find other companions besides each other; it seemed almost as if he was living the crux of one of the philosophical musings that Arlen had occasionally shared during their training matches in Firheng, when the trainer had observed that men universally most wanted a thing just after they discovered they could not have it.

  The imps closed in around them, and then the experience of shifting through the darkness and cold gripped them. Kestrel tried to count in his mind to know how long it lasted, but the numbers didn’t come, and then he was free of the paralysis, and back standing in the throne room of the palace at Graylee.

  The imps floated away, and Kestrel and Picco saw that several people had gathered in the room for their return.

  “We’re glad to have you back,” Wren said to Kestrel first. “We’ve had to put off starting the next war because everyone wants to have you on our side. I told them we could let you enjoy your little vacation and we could go out and win the war without you, but they all want to have you along.”

  She was more than halfway serious about her desire to go out and begin to fight another war, Kestrel was sure.

  Creata came up beside her. “I hope you two did right by mother. Thank you for taking care of her,” he said. “You have a good time together?”

  “We did,” Picco agreed. “We talked with mother’s spirit. She is at peace. She said that she loves both of us and that we made her proud,” She let loose of Kestrel at last, and threw her arms around her brother in a tight, loving hug. He looked over her head at Kestrel with a question in his eyes about the extraordinary claim.

  “It’s true,” Kestrel agreed. “Her spirit did talk to us. She is at peace, and going to see your father on the other side.”

  “We buried her at sea,” Picco’s muffled voice rose from Creata’s shoulder. The two siblings turned, and walked off together.

  Ferris came up and stood next to Wren.

  “Good to see you still here helping, my friend,” Kestrel spoke to him, holding out his hand to shake. He should do the same for his cousin, he knew, but the girl still managed to irritate him, and so he ignored her presence to talk to the Hydrotaz officer. “What’s the situation here? There must be something afoot if you’re still in Graylee? Is Yulia still here?”

  “Perhaps despite her personal inclination, her majesty has returned to her people in Hydrotaz, but we do have a sizable force still here,” the officer answered.

  “Prince Namber and his forces have reportedly rendezvoused with the rest of the Graylee force that retreated from Hydrotaz, and they occupy Channelport now, with their whole fleet in the city’s harbor. Her Majesty has set the Hydrotaz army in motion to reach that city, and Prince Philip has been only waiting for your return so that he can send his forces from Graylee to join in the siege.”

  “There’s no irony in that, is there?” Kestrel commented, thinking about how recently Namber had been besieging Hydrotaz City. The situation had reversed with extreme rapidity.

  Lord Kestrel?” a rebel guard came up to him, “Prince Philip would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”

  “Please lead the way,” Kestrel told the guard. He looked around; Picco and Creata were sitting, talking to each other; Ferris nodded his head and left to return to duties; Wren stood alone in the room. “You want to come along for this? We’ll probably talk about battles,” Kestrel asked his presumptive cousin. She willingly acquiesced, and together they followed the guardsman to an ornate parlor that had apparently been converted to a strategy room, with maps spread upon tables.

  “Kestrel! You’ve returned! How is Picco? Did everything go well?” Philip asked, raising his head from his study of the maps.

  “All is well. Picco is at peace and she is back here now,” Kestrel replied. “What have you been up to while I’ve been away?”

  “We’ve been diligently spreading the water around among the people of the city to protect them from the mind control of the monster lizards,” Philip answered. “I think we would have had resistance to the notion if so many people hadn’t seen those monsters change form and fight you in front of the gate when you rescued Picco; that was a very persuasive story.”

  Kestrel
grew distracted momentarily, thinking of Picco, glad she was at peace with her mother, and now safely with her brother, but wondering whether he could defy the edict her mother’s spirit had delivered, that the two of them were not meant to be a couple.

  “Kestrel, come back to earth,” Wren gave him a nudge, recalling him to the present.

  “The prince was saying,” Wren prompted.

  “I was saying that we are going to launch all of our forces against Channelport,” Philip repeated.

  “Ferris said that Yulia is sending her army from Hydrotaz to Channelport as well,” Kestrel spoke.

  “She is,” Philip grinned. “They’ve got a long march ahead of them; we won’t need to leave for another day in order to rendezvous with them outside Channelport.

  “We slew all the monster lizards at Poma’s home, and we’ve had squads searching the city for others – we’ve found some too,” Philip said.

  “What can I do to help?” Kestrel asked.

  “We thought you might like to oversee a project,” Philip answered. He looked over at Wren with a warm smile. “We’ve located ninety elves who were held as slaves in the city, and we’ve used Namber’s money to buy them from their owners. They’re all here at the palace, and we thought you might like to arrange for them to return to the Eastern Forest.”

  Kestrel felt his eyes immediately well up at the thought of so many elves being freed from bondage. He rubbed his knuckles across his eyes.

  “I’ve spoken to them in Elvish to explain what is happening,” Wren said. “Many of them still don’t believe it’s real.”

  “Stillwater,” Kestrel called.

  “Yes Kestrel friend,” the imp replied instantly, having followed Kestrel to the room, “I presume you wish for our services to carry your countrymen home?”

  “It will be the kindest service you will ever do on my behalf,” Kestrel assured him.

  “If you can take care of this matter of the homecoming of the elves today, we’ll be ready to have our forces leave the city tomorrow to head towards Channelport,” Philip said.

  “Let’s go,” Kestrel stood up. “Stillwater, would you take me back to Center Trunk immediately so I can prepare the palace for the return of the lost?”

  Odare and Canyon arrived moments later. “I’ll see you all soon,” Kestrel told Philip and Wren, and then disappeared.

  They came back to the world in a room in the palace, much to Kestrel’s surprise. “I just assumed we would go to Alicia’s room,” Kestrel commented, “but this is fine, of course.”

  “We thought that you would be more comfortable here,” Odare said.

  Kestrel thought of the frosty relations he had left behind in Silvan’s office, and wondered silently at the perceptiveness of the imps. As lightly as he often took them, and as silly as Dewberry and even Odare behaved at times, they often displayed a shrewd judgment that he knew was an asset.

  “I think you choose wisely, thank you. Let’s make this the place we’ll bring all the elves back to,” Kestrel replied. “Let me go find Elder Miskel to tell him what is happening, and then we can begin. Why don’t you go alert any other imps you wish to help carry them home,” Kestrel said. He walked over to the door and opened it, then stepped into the hallway, and was soon escorted by a palace guard to Miskel’s office.

  “You’ll have ninety elves back home this afternoon?” the military leader nearly shouted in amazement. He leapt up from his desk chair, and they walked rapidly back to the parlor as Kestrel explained the victory at Graylee, and Philip’s emancipation of the elves.

  “We have to start getting things ready for them! How soon will they arrive?” Miskel asked Kestrel, then started shouting for aides and giving orders as soon as Kestrel explained how quickly the transfer would occur. “I need to alert his majesty,” Miskel suddenly realized. “He and the princess will want to welcome our lost comrades home.”

  Kestrel considered the arrival of the royal family as both appropriate and potentially awkward. His last audience with the princess had ended with her assertion that Kestrel might consider asking for her hand in marriage. Though she was a kind, and attractive woman, Kestrel was not prepared to take such a step.

  “I’ll go back to Graylee and start sending them home to you. Good bye Elder,” Kestrel said.

  “Won’t you return? The royals will want to thank you for this precious gift!” Miskel protested.

  “I’ll send my cousin, who is also part-elf and part-human,” Kestrel was suddenly inspired to say. “She’s never been to the palace in Center Trunk. It will be a treat for her,” he said, and then summoned imps to help him escape back to Graylee.

  “I’m sending you to Center Trunk,” He told Wren as soon as he arrived, “to help explain anything they need to know about what’s been happening here.” There were numerous elves sitting and standing in the large parlor room, he noted, the men and women who were mostly unable to fully believe that their nightmarish lives as slaves were about to come to an end.

  “Shouldn’t you be doing that?” she asked.

  “I’m going to go to the healing spring to get the water these folks will need to recover from their enslavement,” he motioned around the room, to where the occupants were almost universally deliberately crippled in some fashion to prevent their escape, “and would you do me a favor by letting me stay away from the palace?” he added confidentially, causing Wren to raise her eyebrows.

  Kestrel spoke loudly to the elves in the room, explaining that the imps would carry them all the way to Center Trunk in a matter of moments, beginning immediately, and he saw many of them begin to weep. “Wren will be at the other end, at the royal palace in Center Trunk, when you arrive there, in case you have any questions or need to explain anything about issues in Graylee,” he finished.

  “I’ll need to be back here for dinner,” Wren said with a slight trace of anxiety. “Will this be done in time?”

  “You have urgent dinner plans?” Kestrel asked curiously.

  “With Creata, and Picco,” Wren muttered, apparently not wanting to admit who her companion would be.

  “I’ll make sure you return in time for dinner,” Kestrel assured her, then watched a trio of imps descend from the floating crowd that had gathered in the room to assist with the transport. They took Wren first, and Kestrel waited for a few moments to give her time to arrive at the palace in Center Trunk and to explain to the greeters on the other end who she was and what was going to happen.

  Kestrel helped organize the beginning of the homecoming, hugging each of the first several elves as they prepared to depart, and setting up the system for the rest of the elves to know when their turn to travel would arrive. Four teams of imps rotated through the process, while Kestrel commandeered a fifth group.

  “Please take me to Alicia’s room in Center Trunk,” he requested.

  The room was empty when he arrived, and Alicia was gone from her work room as well, forcing Kestrel to make the decision to go and face Silvan with the news of what was underway. He ponderously climbed the stairs, then announced himself to Chion, the guard, who ushered him into Silvan’s room after what seemed to Kestrel like an unnecessarily long wait.

  “Well, great diplomat, what brings you back to this humble office today?” Silvan asked coldly, discouraging Kestrel, who had hoped that Silvan’s heart might have warmed to him.

  “I thought you might want to head over to the palace to greet the elves who are coming home from Graylee,” Kestrel answered.

  Silvan’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” he asked in a softer tone.

  Kestrel launched into a condensed version of the history of the victory in Graylee, and Philip’s granting of Kestrel’s request. Silvan alternately smiled and gaped in astonishment.

  “You know, you’ve created quite a problem for yourself now,” Silvan said when Kestrel finished his brief narrative.

  Kestrel looked at the spy leader, confused.

  “The palace is going to conclude that there is
nothing in the world beyond your ability to take care of, and therefore they will expect you to do everything. How are you at breaking droughts and ending plagues? Soon the king will expect you to take care of such things!” Silvan smiled.

  I’m teasing you, Kestrel,” Silvan said calmly. “So, what can I do to help? Anything?”

  “I need to start bringing lots of skins of water from the healing spring,” Kestrel answered. “Would you tell the quartermaster to give me all that I want?”

  “Chion?” Silvan called loudly, and waited for the door to open. “Would you escort Kestrel to the supply depot, and see that he receives all the water skins he wants?”

  “Yes sir,” the guard answered, as Kestrel rose to go.

  “Will you be back?” Silvan asked.

  “I’d like to, but this may take a while, and I need to get ready to march with Graylee’s army tomorrow,” Kestrel made his excuses as he stood.

  “Have you seen Alicia?” Silvan asked.

  “No,” Kestrel answered, “please tell her I said hello,” he held out his hand and shook with Silvan. “And let her know that I’ll send lots of healing spring water back to the palace, to be used to heal the returning slaves. She should do it there; it will be like her treatment of Termine and Hinger, the first slaves we set free from Green Water back once upon a time, and Lucretia too, for that matter. Thank you, sir.”

  “Thank you for bringing so many lost souls home. Come back and tell us of some new miraculous victory soon,” Silvan called as the two men left his office.

  Kestrel walked out with a slight smile, pleased to have re-established a warmer relationship with Colonel Silvan. He followed the silent Chion along the paths of the guard base at Center Trunk, and stood silently by as Chion authorized the transfer of water skins to Kestrel.

  “How many?” the clerk at the supply depot counter asked.

  “Three dozen?” Kestrel wasn’t sure how many would be enough.