When Kestrel awoke, he was naked, and he was in the water of the spring, and the sun was breaching the horizon. The arrows were gone from his body; his wounds felt tender, but he was not in debilitating pain.
There were elves asleep in the water, and elves asleep on the grass. There were many imps asleep in the spring water as well, and he smiled a small smile, pleased that Alicia had been present to know how to treat the imps to thank them for their heroic arrival at the battle and rescue effort afterwards.
Kestrel saw Alicia curled up on the grass, sleeping at a slight distance from the other elves, the northern elves. He rose and stood in the water, then quietly waded over to where the other elves lay in the water. There were two men and the pretty girl. Although Kestrel had seen them lying in the water still clothed when Alicia had first started treating them, all were as naked as he was, and he examined their bodies, seeing the healing scars from the wounds they had suffered.
“You’re not shy about looking, are you?” the girl’s eyes were open and she looked at him with a steady gaze. She had the classic slender build of an elven maiden, and her hair was an unusual silver color, similar to the color that many imps had, Kestrel thought. He averted his eyes in embarrassment.
“Do you know where our clothes are?” she asked as she sat up, one arm casually but strategically giving her some modest cover.
Kestrel waded over to the shoreline and picked up a pile of feminine clothing to show her, then stepped quietly over to where his own clothes were, and started to dress himself, as he heard the girl leave the water too.
Kestrel looked over and saw that she was clothed, and looking at him, then inspecting the other sleeping elves. No one else was awake, he realized, so he motioned for her to follow him, as he grabbed his pack, then led her down the exiting stream, to a distance where they could talk without disturbing the others.
“What are you?” the girl asked as they sat on a fallen tree limb.
Kestrel opened his bag and pulled out one of the small loaves of bread. He tore the bread in half, then offered part to the girl.
“I’m hungry,” he answered at last, and took a chewy bite of the bread.
The girl looked at him, then followed suit.
“My name is Kestrel,” he spoke slowly and tried to enunciate each word distinctly, hoping to only have to explain himself once to the girl. “I come from the Eastern Forest. That’s where we are right now. This is a spring of magical healing water. I’ve come here many times to be healed.
“The imps brought us here to help us heal; they carried all of us here to safety,” he continued.
“The imps – you know them? Did you call them? Do they obey you, are you their master?” the girl’s questions came rapidly, and Kestrel listened to them, then reconstructed the sounds to figure out her questions.
“What’s your name?” Kestrel asked. “It’s not Moorin, is it?” He had a sudden premonition that he had stumbled onto another Moorin, perhaps had already rescued and or saved her.
She looked at him. “Malindaree. Most folks just call me Mal; my close friends call me Ree. Moorin’s not my name,” she said.
Kestrel grinned in relief. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want this girl to be the next Moorin, if there was another one to come, but he was glad she was just a girl, and not a figure of fate.
“You can call me Mal,” she added.
“Mal, the imps and I are allies,” he looked up in the sky, suddenly remembering the comet, but it was hidden by the trees that grew overhead.
“I’m not their master, but they are assigned to help me for a while,” Kestrel told her.
“Were they injured too? Is that why they’re all in the water?” she asked, then took another bite of bread.
“No, the water is like ale or wine for them, somehow. It makes them fall asleep and have wonderful dreams. They love it,” Kestrel told her.
“Do you eat crickets?” he asked suddenly. The false Moorin’s story still bothered him, and he blurted out the question.
Mal looked at him with a crinkled nose. “Ew! No. Do you?” she suddenly looked down at the piece of bread she held.
“The bread’s fine,” Kestrel told her hastily. “I bought it at a shop in North Harbor. There are no crickets in it.”
Mal gave an audible sigh of relief, and retracted her arms, which had extended to stretch the bread as far from her as possible.
“But elves in the Eastern Forest do eat crickets,” he added.
“We do. We just do,” he said defensively, in reply to the expression on her face.
“Who was the doctor? I remember someone taking care of me last night,” she pulled up her shirt and looked at the mark where she had been stabbed in the stomach. “That was awful, bloody awful. I thought we were all going to die until those imps showed up suddenly and starting attacking the humans.”
“Alicia. She’s a friend of mine,” Kestrel answered. “She’s the doctor. She’s treated me more times than I can begin to count,” he gave a slight smile.
“Is she a friend, or a real friend?” Mal asked, noting something in his tone.
“She’s married to someone else; it’s complicated. We aren’t anything other than friends,” Kestrel stumbled over the unexpected question.
“Hello? Kestrel?” he heard Alicia’s voice just then, calling in a hushed shout not far away.
“Alicia?” he called. He stood, and saw that she was close by, her view of them blocked by a forest bush.
The elven doctor ran to him and they embraced in a tight, long hug. The contact was silent for seconds that stretched on.
“How do you feel?” Alicia asked at last. She pressed him away to examine him, then looked down at Malindaree.
“I’m fine. Thanks,” Kestrel answered. “You took good care of me again.”
“What were you doing in the northern forest?” Alicia asked. “I’ve never met elves from the northern forest.”
“I’m just starting to meet them,” he replied. I just got there yesterday. I think that technically, I may not have even been in the northern forest yet; we may have been in North Harbor territory when we were attacked.
“I’m sure you two can understand each other,” Mal spoke up, “but when you talk to each other your accents are really strong.”
“Mal,” Kestrel returned to slow enunciation, “this is Alicia, the doctor who saved us.
“Alicia, this is Malindaree, one of the companions I was traveling with when we were attacked.”
“The others are starting to awaken. Would you like to come back to join the group?” Alicia asked.
Malindaree stood up, and they strolled back to the opening by the spring, Kestrel and Alicia holding hands. All the other elves were awake and dressed by the time they returned. Kestrel handed out apples and bread to the others, then started to lift imps from the water, as he spoke slowly to explain all that he knew had happened.
“So the imps can take us back this morning? Can they take us to Kirevee?” asked Ripken, the elf who seemed to be a leader.
“The imps haven’t been to Kirevee before, so they don’t know how to get there. They can go to places I call them to, but I’m not there to call them. They can take us back to the spot in the forest where they picked us up,” Kestrel explained.
“Well, let’s go back,” one anxious elf asked.
“As soon as the imps wake up, we’ll go,” Kestrel said calmly.
He found out that the group of elves was not a single group. There was a spot outside North Harbor that elves congregated in, so that they could travel together in a convoy through the dangerous forest. There were actually two single elves, two pairs, and a trio who had all been running as a group in search of mutual protection.
The imps woke and dressed. “Would you take Alicia home first?” Kestrel asked Stillwater.
“Tell Silvan that I’m in the North Forest. I don’t know if there’s any good reason for me to be there, but I’m going to find out,” he told Alicia as the
y stood apart from the others.
“Philip is possibly going to need help defending Graylee from Namber if the former prince attacks again. I know it’s hard to convince folks in Center Trunk, but we should try to help the good humans fight against Uniontown,” he told her.
“You keep trying, Kestrel,” she said with a smile. She rose on her toes to kiss him gently. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he said, and realized it was truer than he had known. He did miss Alicia. The imps circled around her, and she waved, then disappeared.
After that, the elves returned to the road in the forest. The battle site was untouched. The dead humans still lay in the road, and the burnt-out torches still stood atop the posts they had been tied to.
“We’ll go on and have a proper breakfast at the inn, my treat,” Ripken said. “Then those who want to stick together and reach Kirevee today can continue on with me afterwards; I’m going to sleep in my own bed tonight,” he grinned. “And anyone who wants to travel slower or go elsewhere is free to drop out of the group.
“Except you,” he pointed at Kestrel with a smile. “I want to show you off at the palace!”
There was a smattering of laughter, and then they started in motion. Kestrel waved the imps away and gave them profuse thanks, setting them free to return to their lives, and he ran alongside Winne. An hour later they were out of the forest and in a land of pastures and scattered, cultivated fields, and then an hour more brought them to a village and tavern that straddled the edge of the next forested area.
“Welcome to the North Forest!” Winne told Kestrel, gesturing towards the trees in front of them as they dropped out of their running mode and started walking into the village.
“Keeper, set a banquet for ten in your finest room,” Ripken shouted loudly as he walked into the inn moments later.
There was a scramble of activity by the staff, and an awkward elven boy, perhaps drafted from the stables in a pinch, became their meal servant, filling their glasses with juice, water, ale or wine, according to the tastes of each member of the running band, as a waitress ran up and down the stairs from the kitchen to the small banquet room assigned to their use on the upper floor, with a wall of windows looking out over the road that ran through the village below.
The waitress brought dish after dish of food. There were roasted and sugar-crusted bits of acorn meat, there were asparagus spears, roasted tubers, small pies filled with squirrel meat – the delivery of food went on and on, and all the elves in the room ate hearty meals, until they could eat no more.
“There you are companions, my reward to you for being part of the most adventurous journey I’ve ever taken!” Ripken spoke as he leaned back in his chair and observed everyone gathered around. The table was littered with food and empty plates. Kestrel couldn’t remember having eaten so much food in one sitting in years.
“I’ll wait a little while to digest, and then I’m going to return to the road to get back to the city tonight. Who’s going to push it with me? I know you are Kestrel,” he noted.
“I’ll join you,” Winne spoke up.
There was a hushed conversation at the other end of the table. “We’re in,” Malindaree and two other girls chimed in.
The two couples both declined, so a half hour later, the group of six took to the road and began running together. Ripken set a fast pace, and they all fell silent as they saved their breath and followed his lead.
Despite the accent differences, as they ran along, Kestrel began to feel like he was at home among elves. The road was not a wide one, and the route was forever bordered by deep forests, with few hints of openings in the canopy and only an occasional pasture or open spot along the way. They passed other travelers, but none that were on horses.
By late afternoon they began to slow down, as they encountered more traffic – sometimes traders carrying baskets of goods, sometimes farmers with wagons of produce, wagons that were pulled by horses, in the case of one or two large wagons.
Their pace slowed down to a walk, and Malindaree introduced her two friends to Kestrel. Shagra and Daviys were both pretty girls, though neither had the striking silver hair that set Malindaree apart in a crowd.
“So you like to eat bugs?” Shangra asked in a tone that seemed mean-spirited to Kestrel.
“That’s not what I said!” Mal protested. “I said you said that eastern elves eat crickets,” she corrected.
“Crickets are bugs,” Shangra said defensively.
“Kestrel, come up here,” Ripken called, pulling Kestrel away from the uncomfortable conversation. “There it is,” he gestured ahead, “there’s Kirevee.”
The trees were thinned out, though not absent, in the view looking forward, and Kestrel could see the skyline of the city. It was a city – not a town like Elmheng, but a city, and on the one hand it was an elven city – there were similarities to Center Trunk, the only other elven city he had seen. But it was clearly more like a human city than Center Trunk; there was greater density, less intermingling of the forest and the settlement.
There were towers, like the tall buildings of humans, almost like the tall buildings of the imps, he thought. They weren’t as densely built as the human or imp towers, and they weren’t as tall as the imp spires. They looked like approximations of trees – the towers were larger at the top than at the bottom, and the numerous balconies that opened off the buildings vaguely resembled leaves.
There weren’t many of the tree towers – less than a half dozen, including a cluster of three together in one spot, and two individual towers in other parts of the city.
The group continued on walking slowly. “This is your home?” Kestrel asked Winne.
“Yes,” she replied. “It’ll be good to get home, humble as home is.”
“Where do you live?” Kestrel asked, curious about what was humble in the city of Kirevee.
“I have an apartment above my uncle’s store,” she spoke proudly. “I’m his trader. I travel to North Harbor, or even Narrow Bay or Seafare. I’ve even sailed to Two Hills a time or two to get wool,” she boasted of her exploits,
“We’re on Road of the Fjords,” she added. “You’ll have to come see the shop, so you can see how the everyday people live.”
They were working their way through the traffic, nearly to the gates of the city. The gates were ceremonial, rather than functional. Like Center Trunk, there was no true wall around the city. But there were large arching structures built over the road as it entered the city, providing a ceremonial boundary to mark where the city jurisdiction began.
The group passed through the gates, as the sky began to turn red, the sun setting on the end of their day, Kestrel’s first day in the kingdom of the Northern Forest, while the comet crept above the horizon. There were trees within the city, but Kestrel noted they were fewer in number than in Center Trunk; Kirevee was closer to a human city than an elven one, by his standards.
“We’re going to go out west,” Malindaree, pressed forward and told Ripken. “Thank you for the meal and the company, my lord. Perhaps we’ll see you at court?”
“I’ll look forward to the opportunity; now that I know you I’ll watch for you, my lady,” Ripken told the girl. They momentarily pressed their palms together, and then Malindaree dropped back a couple of steps.
“It was a pleasure to run with you,” she said politely to Winne.
“Kestrel, thank you for saving our lives; thank you for healing us; thank you for the most extraordinary experience any of us have ever known! We’re lucky you joined our group,” she told Kestrel. “You’ll have to promise you’ll come on the crawl with us while you’re in town, so we can thank you with some hospitality!” she started to step away.
“What’s the crawl? How should I find you?” he asked.
She came back towards him. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you!” she grinned, then suddenly leaned up against him and kissed him soundly on the lips, turned quickly and fled back to her friends, who giggled as they d
ucked away through the crowd and out of sight.
“You’re in for an adventure,” Winne said dryly.
“Why do you say that?” Kestrel asked.
“Those girls – they’re part of the crowd, the wealthy families, the minor nobles, the great mining clans – those kinds of kids have lots of money and no responsibility,” the merchant answered.
“This is my turn, I’ve got to go,” she told Kestrel.
“Thank you, Lord Ripken,” she reached forward and tapped his shoulder. “Thank you for your hospitality this morning.”
“And thank you for your companionship,” he replied. “Did I hear you say you have a shop on the Road of the Fjords? I’ll tell our folks to visit,” he said.
Winne held her hand up to Kestrel, palm outward, and after a moment’s confusion, Kestrel remembered seeing Malindaree and Ripken press palms. He held his hand up and pressed it against hers. She squeezed her fingers around his hand momentarily, smiled at him, then parted, and disappeared down a side street.
“Come along, conqueror,” Ripken was now walking beside Kestrel. “We need to get home and get cleaned up.”
“Where is home, my lord?” Kestrel had caught the title both Mal and Winne had used.
“You don’t know, do you?” Ripken grinned. “You are completely innocent to our city; I believe it. How I wish I could witness the next few days through your eyes!”
“We are going to the palace,” he pointed ahead, towards the area where the cluster of tall tree buildings rose. “I live there, or I have a suite of rooms there, plus a house in the country.
“We’ll arrange for you to have a nice room in one of the towers,” Ripken spoke as they reached a gate in a high wall, a true boundary marker, apparently the wall around the palace grounds, although they were still some distance from the tall tree buildings.
Guards nodded to Ripken respectfully, and he and Kestrel passed through easily. Inside the wall they were in a park-like setting, with groves of trees – decorative, flowering trees – small ponds and fountains, and beds of flowers.
“So why are you here, Kestrel?” Ripken asked.
“I’m not sure, my lord,” Kestrel answered.
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 04 - A Foreign Heart Page 20
