“I’d wish to look like everyone else,” Kestrel said.
Oh no, you shouldn’t!” Lucretia said insistently. Kestrel heard others wandering among the bushes nearby, but as the sun began to set, he focused all his attention on the attractive girl beside him. “You do look different from everyone else, but that’s not bad,” she told him.
“What would you wish for?” Kestrel asked her, as there was a disturbance in another bower nearby.
“Adventure. Excitement. Something different. Life was so boring in my village that I came to Center Trunk to be in the Guard, but there’s still no great adventure here,” she answered. “Not even small adventures like meeting a sprite, not for me!
“And not adventures like winning the princess’s colors in the archery competition tomorrow!” she added with a smile.
There was filtered light nearby, noticeable in the increasing darkness, and as Lucretia and Kestrel drifted closer together in their conversation, as Kestrel was thinking vaguely of Cheryl while wondering if he was going to kiss Lucretia, as her hand reached up and touch his oversized ears, gently tracing the pattern of whorls in a way that was exciting, not embarrassing, the light approached their sheltered green nook. Their bushes began to flail, and then both of them sat up and shielded their eyes as a trio of lanterns, carried by men, came into their intimate, green nook.
“Kestrel?” an elf’s voice sounded from behind one of the lanterns.
Kestrel stood up, and gave his hand to Lucretia to help her up as well. “Who’s asking, and what are you doing here? How did you find us?” he asked.
“Colonel Silvan asked that you come to his office immediately,” the voice said. Kestrel’s eyes were adjusting to the glare of the lanterns, and he could see the three guards who were holding them.
“Immediately? Can’t this wait until the morning?” Kestrel asked in astoundment, his unexpectedly intimate evening with Lucretia apparently ended for no imaginable reason.
“The colonel’s waiting for you. We’ll escort both of you back to the base,” Kestrel turned to look at Lucretia with unfeigned confusion, and saw an expression of the same incomprehension on her face.
“Are you one of their spies?” she asked him. “I thought you told me you just carried a message to the colonel.”
“That’s all I did,” Kestrel affirmed.
“Let’s get moving please,” the spokesman for the trio of escorts suggested.
Kestrel reached out for Lucretia’s hand and they squeezed their fingers together as they walked through the bushes, passing other couples who were also seeking privacy among the bushy environs, and who shied away from the harsh, bright lanterns.
There was no conversation among the group as they crossed the festival grounds and walked across the city, though Kestrel and Lucretia held onto one another’s hand throughout the journey. When they reached the gates to the guard base, the escorts halted.
“Miss, you’ll need to come with me for a brief conversation. Kestrel, we’ll take you up to the colonel’s office,” the spokesman said.
“What is there to say to Lucretia? She should be free to go!” Kestrel said insistently, maneuvering his body between her and the three others, shocked at this new twist.
“We mean her no harm, Kestrel,” one of the other agents spoke firmly. “We just have reason to believe that you have told her parts of your story that we believe should be kept very confidential for the sake of all parties involved. Lucretia will only have a few minutes to chat with us, and then she’ll be on her way.
“You’ll go to the colonel, receive your next assignment, and that’ll be that. There’s no sinister harm or plan,” he explained in a patient tone.
Kestrel turned to look at Lucretia. She nodded, then raised up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “We’ll talk tomorrow; I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for giving me so much adventure today!” she murmured with a crooked smile, then released his hand and left with the escort who had not spoken.
“What is this all about?” Kestrel asked the other two as they began to walk towards the same administrative building he had visited just the night before.
“Colonel Silvan is waiting to talk to you personally. You’ll learn whatever he has to say to you in just a minute,” the escort replied stoically.
They walked silently across the base and returned to the building that was the headquarters for the head of the elven spy network. Kestrel and his escorts climbed upwards, and found Giardell, the model elven guard, once again on duty outside Silvan’s door. “We’re delivering the agent as ordered,” Kestrel’s escort reported to Giardell with a salute, and then departed.
The hallway was once again dimly lit by wall-mounted candle sconces. Once again, Kestrel stood uncertainly, waiting for an interview. He thought about Lucretia’s kiss, and he thought about Cheryl back in Elmheng. His evening spent in the bower with Lucretia had not led to anything improper, anything that would have been embarrassing to describe back home, but that was perhaps only because the two of them had been interrupted before something had happened.
He would see Lucretia again in the morning; he had time to think about what he was doing before he saw her.
“Kestrel!” he heard his name called sharply, and realized that it had been called more than once while he had been lost in thought about the two girls. Giardell had called, and was motioning slightly to the doorway where Colonel Silvan’s head was visible, the wavering reflection of a candle shining off the top of his bald pate.
“Will you come in please, Kestrel?” the colonel asked.
Kestrel nodded at Giardell and entered the office, before Silvan closed the door and circled around behind his desk for a seat. He motioned for Kestrel to sit in the same chair he’d occupied the previous night.
“Well Kestrel, I’m sure you’re anxious to know why you’ve been called here so suddenly,” Silvan said.
“Yes sir, I am,” he replied immediately.
“Last night I told you to go out and enjoy the city; I didn’t expect you’d create circumstances for the city to enjoy you! Here you are in the city for twenty four hours and already drawing attention to yourself. Do you know what I hear the city rumors say?” the colonel asked.
“No sir,” Kestrel replied.
“There’s a human who has a sprite familiar who is going to win the archery contest and marry the princess! Can you believe that? Now who do you suppose they are talking about?” Silvan asked.
Kestrel stared at the colonel in disbelief. “None of that is true sir!” he cried.
“Yet that’s what some people are saying,” Silvan answered mildly. “Every one of the facts is wrong, except possibly the part about you winning the competition. But people will talk, and rumor will always tell a better story than the truth, and tell it quick. Even though, in this case, the truth of your story would satisfy the street crowds well enough.
“I didn’t expect you to call attention to yourself so effectively Kestrel. You may have an assignment coming up for me, and you can’t be effective if you’re a public figure.”
Intuitively, Kestrel grasped something of what Silvan was leading to. “You want me to be a spy!”
“Kestrel, I want to decide if there’s a way you can serve the elven cause. Until I make that decision, I don’t want to see the opportunity lost because you become too prominent,” Silvan said. He was suddenly business-like, as he withdrew a round cylinder from a desk drawer. Kestrel recognized it for what it was: a blue-ribbon messenger tube. “You are ordered to leave Center Trunk at dawn tomorrow and to carry this message to Commander Cosima in Firheng. Giardell has a supply bag ready and waiting for you outside the office.”
“But the tournament tomorrow!” Kestrel protested.
“You will miss the tournament. Your friend Lucretia has been informed by now that she should report your withdrawal from the tournament and make your farewells to your comrades for you,” Silvan calmly agreed.
“Can I say good bye t
o Lucretia?” Kestrel asked, morosely, knowing that he had no recourse to the direct order that he had just been given.
“Lucretia has been told that she will not see you again, and she is not to ever discuss with anyone any of the stories you have told her about your experiences. That is an order given to her, Kestrel,” Silvan emphasized.
“I don’t want to be a spy,” Kestrel tried to protest. “Why Firheng?”
“I am just using you as a courier at this point. No one has decided that you have to be a spy, and no one will force you against your will to carry out any spy activities,” Silvan answered. “Is there anything else?”
There was. There was so much more Kestrel wanted to know, and so much he wanted to protest, but he couldn’t put it all into words. He was frustrated by the way such a glorious day had been ripped from the calendar of his life before it had even finished, and been made into a distant and pointless memory.
He was standing and saluting, he realized. “I’ll see you again, Kestrel, and you’ll understand more next time,” the colonel was saying. “And we will have a discussion.”
“Thank you sir,” he said, still not able to verbalize, or even understand, all that he felt. He left the room in a daze, then paused in the hallway as he tried to get his bearings.
“Do you want these?” Giardell asked after a moment of observing the immobilized, uncomprehending look on Kestrel’s face as he struggled to cope with the unseen wall his life had been dashed against. Giardell hold up the knapsack of supplies and materials that were prepared for Kestrel.
“Thank you,” Kestrel said automatically as he stepped over and accepted the offered items. He placed the straps over his shoulder, then went down the hall and out the door without a backwards glance.
Silvan’s door opened, and he came out into the hallway to stand by his guard. “I didn’t expect to have to set him in motion so quickly; I had thought we’d have a little more time to prepare him,” the officer said.
“His actions didn’t leave you any choice sir, not that the lad had any ill-intent,” Giardell replied. “If he had simply gone about the festival listening to the minstrels or playing the games or chasing the doxies, none of this would have happened.”
“He’s going to need time to forgive us for what we’re doing to him,” Silvan mused.
“Maybe you could send his girlfriend, Lucretia, up to see him at Firheng?” Giardell suggested.
“That might be worth thinking about in a month or so, although I’d prefer that he make a clean break with everyone in Center Trunk besides us,” Silvan nodded. “We’ll see how his evaluations come in from Cosima, and then decide.” Silvan left the guard and returned to his room, as he pondered the plot he was setting in motion.
Chapter 11 — Fight Like a Human
Kestrel awoke just after sunrise, already late for his departure to Firheng. He had slept poorly throughout the evening, and he awoke without energy or enthusiasm. He stood by the window of his room and opened the bag that Giardell had given him the night before. The knapsack provided two changes of shirts, roughly five days’ worth of food, a knife, and a sturdy coil of rope, plus a small leather bag that contained a generous cache of small coins, enough to take him through a few situations.
His attention to the contents of his luggage was distracted by a movement out the window. He glanced and saw Vinetia and Lucretia talking intently as they walked along the boulevard of the military camp. He hurriedly stuffed his assigned materials into the bag, pulled the bag, his bow and his arrows over his shoulder, and rushed out the door of his room. He went down the hall and exited on the wrong side of his dormitory, then raced around the length of the building to see the two elven maids sauntering away from him.
He stopped and thought about Colonel Silvan’s comments the night before. Lucretia knew that she was not going to see him again, which was probably what she was telling Vinetia as they walked. For Kestrel, the obvious proper choice was to let the two of them walk away from him, unaware of his proximity. But the thought of doing that left him feeling sorely pained. With a rash decision, he began to run down the lane after them.
“Wait up!” he called when he had closed more than half the distance.
Both girls turned in response to the call, and he saw the surprise on Lucretia’s face, and the puzzled look on Vinetia’s face as she looked at him and then at her companion. “I thought you told me we weren’t going to see him today!” she cried.
“I can’t compete today,” Kestrel said breathlessly as he joined them. They had stopped walking, and the three of them stood together in the middle of the empty lane on the quiet military base, where only a few scattered noises indicated that some others were awake on the second morning of the festival. “I’m late getting started on my mission,” he held up the tube with the blue ribbon. “And I saw you walking by.”
He looked back and forth from one to the other. “I’m sorry I can’t stay today. I didn’t know they’d have an assignment for me so soon,” he explained.
“Are you a spy?” Lucretia asked.
“I’ve only carried a message here, and now I’m taking one away. I don’t think that makes me a spy,” he answered.
“Well, whatever it makes you, it makes me mad! I was counting on seeing you win the championship today,” Vinetia told him, with a rough thump on his arm.
“You’ll have to go out and win it instead,” Kestrel said affectionately.
“When will you be back?” Lucretia asked.
“I don’t know,” Kestrel said. “I hope soon.”
The three of them stood there silently, Lucretia and Kestrel studying each other’s faces.
“I’ve got to go,” he said at last. “Thank you for being so good to me yesterday, and taking me with you.”
“Kestrel, let me know when you return,” Lucretia said in reply.
“I will,” he promised, and then after another pause, he stepped backwards, turned around and started to walk away. Should he have kissed her or hugged her, he wondered. With Vinetia at the scene he had felt awkward. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the women had also started to walk away, and Lucretia was likewise looking back at him. They grinned at one another, then Lucretia stopped, and waited as Kestrel came running back to her and awkwardly enveloped her in a hug.
“How can I hug you back with all this gear you’re carrying?” she complained. “Be careful out there.”
“I will,” he answered. “I hope you find some adventure soon.”
“Yesterday showed me that it lurks around in some surprising places, so maybe I will,” she smiled in response.
“I’ll see you again someday, I promise,” he pledged as he started to back away, and then they parted again.
Kestrel did not turn around again, but kept on walking in the direction of the gate, and when he reached it, he stepped off the base and back into the city, back out among the civilian population of Center Trunk, most of which seemed to still be sleeping off the celebration of the previous night of the festival. The streets were empty and easy to negotiate, so that he made quick progress as he jogged his way north out of the city and towards the long road that led through the forest to Firheng, and then on further north to the human land of Estone.
His journey to Firheng was much less eventful that his journey to Center Trunk had been. He spent four days of travel, one of them through constant rain, but was never injured, never beaten, and never confronted with any supernatural or extraordinary events. The forest was a different one; with many more evergreens in the north, and Kestrel understood the appropriateness of Firheng’s name.
“Messenger Kestrel arriving with a message tube,” he told the sentry at the gate of the administration building, “here for Commander Cosima,” when he arrived in mid-afternoon.
“Go inside, turn down the right hand hallway, knock at the third door on the right,” the sentry said after inspecting Kestrel casually.
Kestrel did as told, and found a guard posted at the d
oor he expected to enter. “Is this Commander Cosima’s office?” Kestrel asked the man.
“It was at the start of the day, and as far as I know, it still is,” the sentry replied with a grin. “Go on in and see the executive aide.”
Inside the door was a large room, one that was long, with many windows along one side, and at the far end of the room was a desk, where a dark-haired elf matron sat. She looked up at Kestrel, then smiled a cheery smile that seemed to erase her age and enhance her beauty.
“How may I help you?” she asked in a kindly tone as Kestrel walked towards her. He hadn’t thought of her as pretty when he had first seen her, but since she smiled he couldn’t help but see her as an attractive woman, one who might be about the age of his own mother if she had lived longer.
“I have a message tube to deliver to Commander Cosima,” Kestrel replied.
“He’s over at the armory; why don’t you take it over there to him?” the assistant suggested.
“I could do that,” Kestrel agreed, somewhat at a loss. The security at Firheng was much more relaxed than it had been at Center Trunk, but then, he reflected, security at Elmheng had been non-existent as well.
“The armory is against the west wall of the post,” the assistant reported, seeing the look of confusion on Kestrel’s face.
“Gion,” she called towards the doorway. The guard looked in at her. “Would you guide this messenger over to the armory so he can deliver his message to Cos?” she asked sweetly.
“Belinda, I’ll do it for you, if you think you’ll be safe here without a guard,” he laughed, and she laughed with him.
“Come on messenger,” Gion motioned towards Kestrel.
Kestrel looked towards Belinda. “Thank you,” he said, heading towards the door.
“You can leave your things here if you don’t want to carry them. I’ll keep an eye on them until you get back,” she advised him.
Kestrel unconsciously gave a sigh of relief, then shrugged out of his backpack, and left his bow and arrows as well, waved thanks, then trotted out the door to find and follow his guide.
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