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The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 04 - A Foreign Heart

Page 15

by Jeffrey Quyle


  “Won’t you come join us?” he asked Kestrel.

  “I wish I could,” Kestrel answered, “but it’s time for me to go someplace else.”

  “Where?” Creata asked. “Where else are you going to go find new adventures?”

  “I don’t know,” the elf answered. “I need to figure out where to go, and then I need to get there. The goddess has told me this is something I must do.”

  The thumped each other on the back, and then Creata was gone.

  The following morning Kestrel summoned up the courage to begin his journey. “Philip, it is time for me to leave for a while. There is another mission I am commanded to undertake,” he told his friend as they ate a breakfast of camp food.

  “But I know I’ll need your help. Namber is still out there, and he’ll come back to attack again,” Philip replied, a note of concern in his voice.

  “Here,” Kestrel passed over the water skin from Decimindion, “with this you’ll be safe; you’ll be able to prevent his monstrous allies from stealing the soul and the will of the residents of your land; and if they’re free to decide for themselves, they’ll choose you over Namber.

  “It is time for me to go. I’ve been told to move on. It will be no loss for you; you’re a good man, and you have so many good supporters,” he gestured to the rebel companions and the army commanders who Philip had drawn into a circle of advisors, as they sat nearby.

  “Your departure will be a loss for me, in many ways. But we will try to carry on; we will make every new person who comes into Graylee take a drink from this skin,” Philip thought out loud as he held the skin in his hand, “which should cut down on the problems we have.”

  “That will help immensely,” Kestrel replied, pleased that Philip had come up with such a plan so quickly. “Stillwater, Stillwater, Stillwater,” he called his imp friends.

  “When will you be back? You won’t be gone for long, will you?” Philip seemed to accept Kestrel’s departure, as a small blue body appeared.

  “I’m ready to travel, and I’d appreciate help. Dewberry knows the place I’m going,” Kestrel explained to the imp.

  “I will return with everyone we need, Kestrel friend,” Stillwater replied, and then disappeared.

  “I don’t know where I’m ultimately going or how long it will take,” Kestrel answered. He picked up his small pack of belongings, just as Stillwater, Dewberry, and Jonson arrived.

  “Kestrel neighbor!” Jonson greeted Kestrel, “It has been so long since we were together.”

  “You majesty,” Kestrel replied. “It is grand to see you. Let me introduce you to the new Prince of Graylee,” he motioned towards Philip, “who is making the world a better place.

  “Philip, this is one of your fellow monarchs, Jonson, the king of the imps of the Swampy Morass,” he turned, “both of you are good friends of mine.”

  The two rulers shook hands warmly. “Good luck with all that you have to do Philip,” Kestrel said as he prepared to depart. “I know your father would be so proud to see the great promise you are for your nation.

  “My father would be proud; I wish he could have lived to take on this duty himself,” Philip acknowledged. “And he would have been proud to know that I’ve earned your friendship, Kestrel. I hope to see you again soon.”

  “Dewberry beloved,” Kestrel turned to the sprite as he began to walk away, “I asked for you because you know the way to where I want to go next.”

  “Kestrel lonely one, we both know the truth is that you asked for me because you missed my infectious smile and you long to embrace me,” the sprite spoke as she hovered in a position where her face was just inches away from his.

  “You always see into the secret core of my heart, dearest,” Kestrel smiled. “So let’s journey to the house up near the mountains. Show Stillwater the way to that place, and there will be no more destinations you will have to lead him to on my behalf – he’ll know all the places I can imagine I want to be carried to.

  “I don’t think I’ll need to be taken anywhere for a long time after this trip,” Kestrel told his floating audience as he walked to a supply wagon and began pilfering dried biscuit and food items that he stuffed into his pack.

  “The house we will go to, Kestrel despondent lover, is it the home where the we first met the king of this land, the man we just met?” Dewberry asked. When Kestrel nodded, she spoke again, “And it is the home where his sister, a human woman who might be accounted pretty by those who have a taste for large and pale females, lives as well?”

  Kestrel nodded again. “And is that same sister at the house now, the house we are going to go to?” Dewberry asked.

  “So I believe,” Kestrel reluctantly answered, discouraged that the sprite had already drilled down to the main reason for the visit to the manor.

  “I understand,” Dewberry said primly. “Let us be on our way,” she said to her fellow blue travelers, and they circled around Kestrel, then suddenly carried him with them into the gray nothingness of a place with no dimensions, before they emerged into an empty room, one that had two pairs of bunks setting in it, in the morning sunlight.

  There were noises from outside the room, both outside the window, and out in the hall beyond the door. “Thank you,” Kestrel told his friends, “you’re free to go. I’ll call you sometime soon, when I’m in some new place.”

  “In the arms of the human girl?” Dewberry asked. “Would that be a new place?”

  Kestrel stuck his tongue out momentarily.

  “Kestrel friend,” Jonson said, “we thank you for all that you have done. You have earned an opportunity to rest and relax after fighting so many battles. But I sense that the war is not over, and that you will be back in combat once again. Please know that we will be ready to fight beside you. We may even have to call upon you to help us, for you are our truest ally and friend.”

  With that speech the blue contingent disappeared, and the noise in the hallway grew louder, then the door to the room burst open and four men appeared.

  “Who in the name of the lady are you and what are you doing in our room?” one of the men spoke bluntly.

  “He’s an elf! We’ve got ourselves an elf snooping around the manor!” another man answered.

  “I am here as a friend,” Kestrel answered carefully, making no quick motions, and keeping his hands free of his weapons. “I’ve just arrived; I came to pay my respects to Margo.”

  “To the lady of the manor, you mean? An elf respecting the lady? I don’t think you ought to using her name all familiar-like, elf,” a third man said. “And if you just got here, how’d you come to be up here in our room instead of the hall, huh?”

  “Let’s all go downstairs and talk to the lady of the manor, Margo, daughter of Paul, the former Baron of the Northern Marches, sister to Philip, Prince of Graylee,” Kestrel said with a slow, firm voice.

  “What’d you got in that pack on your back? You been finding things to take from our room?” the fourth man asked.

  “I’m going on a journey, and I have supplies,” Kestrel said simply. “I am not here as an enemy, and I know that Margo will vouch for me as a friend of her family, a friend to her and Philip both. I’ve visited this manor before, and stayed here before, and been received with hospitality.”

  “Carind, you go first. Elf, you go second. Barst, you go get Huff and bring him to meet us in the parlor,” the tallest of the fighters seemed to be in charge, as he issued orders. “Now go along elf, and follow Carind downstairs.”

  Kestrel hesitated just a second. He’d become so accustomed to be accepted by the humans of Philip’s army that he was feeling shock at the suspicion and distrust which was so palpable in the room. He looked at the hands of the men, and saw none of them reaching for their weapons.

  They undoubtedly felt in control of the situation, and not likely to resort to violence yet, he judged. With doubts, he decided to trust the men to let him go to the parlor. Once Margo saw him and vouched for him, he knew he would be in the
clear, or in the clear at least long enough to see her and then depart on his planned journey up into the mountains.

  He had come to the manor to see Margo. He knew that she was engaged – he knew that he had just fallen into a consuming infatuation with Picco – he knew that he had to go in search of a girl named Moorin – but he still knew that he wanted to see Margo again. He would see her, and then he would leave her; he had decided to go up into the mountains and visit the gnomes briefly.

  It was summertime, and the mountains were passable in the summer. He had decided he was going to go to the kingdom of the northern elves to start his search for Moorin, and so a journey north through the mountains made some sense; it would take him closer to his destination. The overland journey wouldn’t be as fast as riding a ship through the Inner Seas, out to the Great Sea, and then around to North Harbor or some spot on the coast along the North forest. But the Inner Seas held ships controlled by Uniontown, while the overland journey would be solitary, and peaceful, and he craved solitude for now. After months of seeking and battling among many people and many races in many places, Kestrel knew that his soul needed to take a break to relax and rest.

  He and his escorts were already down the stairs in the manor house, he realized. His musings had somehow managed to distract him from the tension of the situation, and they were turning to the right, across the entry hall to the parlor. He thought of the room as he’d seen it before, with polite young nobles, before they’d become exposed to the horrors of war. And then later, later he’d seen the room when it had been filled with smoke and armed, hostile men, men who he had killed in his fury over finding the slaughter of the baron and his wife.

  Kestrel took a seat in a straight-back chair, one without arms, and he closed his eyes as he thought about the horrors of that day that he experienced. His mind had filled with anger, and his temper had snapped, and in a berserk mood of careless rage he’d come upon the house and killed every man he’d found, every one of the criminals who had assassinated Paul, and imprisoned Philip, men who waited at the manor and would have killed or mistreated Margo and Picco if Kestrel had let the two girls travel alone to the manor.

  “So we really have an elf, here in Graylee?” Kestrel’s eyes wearily opened at the sound of the caustic question from a new voice, and he looked up to see a large man standing in the doorway of the parlor. The man was examining Kestrel critically.

  “My name is Kestrel. I’m a friend of Margo and Philip. I’ve just come from Philip’s army and thought I’d visit Margo on my way north,” he said. He started to stand up, but a man standing next to him placed his hand on Kestrel’s shoulder to force him back down into his seat.

  “Margo mentioned a man named Kestrel, but she never said much about him being an elf. I’d think that she’d mention something like that, don’t you?” the man said.

  “My ears used to look more human,” Kestrel said. “I don’t know if she’s ever seen me look this fully elven. She’ll vouch for me when she sees me,” he said confidently.

  “What’s this I hear about a strange elf?” Kestrel heard Margo’s voice approaching down the hallway. “Where do your men come up with such nonsense Huff?” she asked, and then she came into view, arriving in the doorway behind the large man who still stood just inside the room.

  Kestrel studied her face, the same wide-set, calm eyes Margo had always had, giving her an expression of contemplation and quiet contentment. Her eyes stared back at him, them widened dramatically, and within them Kestrel even saw her irises dilate wildly.

  “Oh, thank the goddess! Kestrel, it’s you!” she shouted with delight as she pressed past the man in the door and ran towards Kestrel.

  He stood, knocking away the hand that started to move towards him automatically, and then he stretched his arms out wide and caught Margo in a hug, one that was made awkward by the pregnant belly that protruded out in front of her.

  Their embrace was a long and silent one, and Kestrel stood with his arms wrapped around Margo and his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes he momentarily noticed a variety of expressions on the faces of the men he saw, but then he looked down as he pulled away from Margo, and he stared at her face. She was just as lovely as ever, a serene beauty, though her face looked slightly fuller now.

  “You’re looking as lovely as ever,” Kestrel spoke first. “I’m glad to see you’re alive and well and safe.”

  “I take it you know this elf?” the large man at the door spoke.

  Margo turned, her arm still around Kestrel’s waist. “Huff, this is our great friend, Kestrel.

  “Kestrel, this is Huff,” she gestured towards the large man, “my fiancé. We are to be married next week.”

  “Kestrel, where did you come from? Where have you been?” she asked. “Let’s all have seats,” she spoke as she separated herself from Kestrel at last.

  “I’ve been with Philip and his army,” Kestrel answered, drawing murmurs from a pair of the guards who stood around the perimeter of the room. “He’s won two battles now, and driven Namber out of Graylee, and out of Channelport.” There were more murmurs in the room.

  “When did all this happen?” Huff asked skeptically.

  “Namber just left Channelport three nights ago,” Kestrel said carefully, realizing that he was going to be scoffed at. “I presume you’ve already had news about Philip’s victory on Graylee, at the palace?”

  “Channelport? Three days ago? And you’re here and you know about it? Did a bird carry you here with the news?” Huff asked loudly.

  “Huff, dear,” Margo tried to gently stem the verbal assault she saw coming.

  “No, Margo, you listen. I’ve heard you and Picco talk about this wonderful Kestrel and all the great things he claimed he did and I bit my tongue and let you two girls carry on with your infatuation of the man, because it seemed harmless; after all, he’d gone away and disappeared from your life when you needed protection most,” Huff said authoritatively, making Kestrel raise his head is astonishment.

  “That’s right, you heard me,” Huff looked at Kestrel, “Margo was up here all alone and needed protection, and you went away when any man who really cared for her would have stayed and protected her,” he said loudly.

  Kestrel stood up immediately, causing Huff to stop, waiting, gloating at the thought that he had provoked Kestrel into a response.

  Margo stood up immediately as well, and placed a hand on Kestrel’s wrist, forestalling him from taking any action. “Kestrel, no, please,” she spoke in a tearful voice. “He doesn’t know; we’ve never told him about all that you’ve done, or all that you suffered through.

  “Huff, Kestrel is a man who has saved my life many times. He’s the one who killed the entire squad that killed my family here at the manor. The first time I met him he killed eleven robbers on the road at once to protect Philip and I and our friends from being assaulted. He broke into the palace and set us all free.

  “He went into the Yellow Palace and freed the Princess of Hydrotaz. He killed a yeti,” she spoke in rapid-fire fashion. “He lived with gnomes in the mountains in the winter time – he’s got the purple eyes to prove it!

  “Huff, he is a great man, a great, great man,” she started to cry. “The goddess Kai named him her own champion,” she seemed ready to go on, but Kestrel raised his hand to her face, and pressed a pair of fingers to her lips, suddenly sorry that he had acted so harshly to unleash the torrent of words, flattering as they were, balm to his heart that they were, demonstration of her attention to him and her memories of him that they were.

  “I only came here to see my friend, Margo,” he spoke to the silent room. “I meant to stir no ill will.

  “She is precious to me, and I intend no harm.”

  “Take your hands off of her,” Huff said. His voice was low and level. The other men in the room shuffled uneasily, moved by Margo’s outburst and Kestrel’s reasonable tone.

  “Stillwater,” Kestrel called into the air, startling all the men there, “
Stillwater, Stillwater,” he repeated the word to the confusion of everyone there, and then the room erupted in confusion at the arrival of an imp.

  The imp flew once around the room, then disappeared, as the men ducked and dove, their hands above their heads as they looked around in fear. Moments later a dozen imps returned, all armed with pikes or bows. “Don’t anyone move, or you will die!” Stillwater shouted, his voice surprisingly deep at that moment.

  “Friend Kestrel, do you need help?” Stillwater asked, his eyes darting around the room to examine the men who stood there in astonishment.

  “Stillwater, thank you. There is no need to harm these men yet,” Kestrel said hastily. “I do need a favor. I wish to speak to the lady here, privately,” he told the imp.

  “And you wish us to clear these men out of the room?” Odare asked from the other side of the room.

  “That would be nice,” Kestrel said. He paused. “No wait, I wish for you to take the lady and I to the healing spring,” he changed him mind on the spur of the moment. “Would you carry us please?

  “We’ll return in a little while. Margo will not be harmed, I assure you,” Kestrel said, looking at Huff as he spoke, as a cluster of imps converged on Kestrel, while he folded Margo into his arms in a hug.

  “Take a deep breath,” he warned Margo, who looked up at his face in confusion. And then the room around them disappeared, and she couldn’t shriek because there was no air, no light, no color, no sensation, for several long seconds.

  “Kestrel, what happened? Where are we?” she asked as soon as they were standing upon the lawn that skirted along the edge of the spring water. The imps all immediately landed and began to shed their clothes.

  “What are they doing?” Margo asked.

  Kestrel looked down at her face, as she still remained within the circle of his arms. He raised one hand up her back and cradled the back of her head, then bent and gently kissed her, with affection but without lust, for a very long moment.

 

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