He laid in his bed with a dim lantern providing light, as he read the intricate directions from Silvan, information on how he was to pass his findings along to the elven forces. There were a number of locations along the border with Hydrotaz where he could secretly stash a message, and know that it would eventually be found and picked up by an elf courier.
His messages would have to be written in obscure codes, full of symbols and hidden meanings that he would need many days to memorize. Flowers, shapes, colors — they all had to be written into a message that seemed to describe something else. There were sequences of words that would trigger meanings — “a square of yellow roses” meant that life-threatening conditions were imminent, for example. “A triangle of three red pansies” meant that he expected he was going to die. There were few happy or positive meanings he could convey, he noted grimly as he turned down the wick to put out his bedroom light. Apparently, he wasn’t expected to uncover many happy outcomes, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Kestrel went to see Castona at his shop, where he was greeted with a combination of warmth and awe. “It’s the return of our champion!” one of Castona’s assistants shouted.
Castona poked his head out from a back room to see the reason for the shout, then grinned. “It’s not always good to have to need a champion, but if you’re going to have one, this is the best to have!” he said.
“Kestrel, what brings you through our door, and have you been to the palace to see the Doge?” the merchant asked.
“I just arrived in the city last night,” Kestrel replied. “I’d like to get a berth on a ship to take me to the Inland Seas kingdoms.
“Why do I need to see the Doge?” he asked.
“The Doge wants the prestige of having you seen in public with him, of course,” Castona explained. “Let me do some checking on the tides and departures this morning, while you go to the palace, flash your chest — funny, I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever say that to a man!” he laughed at his own joke, “and then go see the Doge. He’ll probably want to host a dinner or reception with you and invite all the noblemen he can.
“You should do this, Kestrel. The Doge has been very upset about your disappearance, and this will help quite a bit, especially with the restlessness that has been growing among the people,” Castona urged. “It won’t delay your departure by more than a day or so. And there have been some unusual occurrences around the city lately; your appearance will give people — including the Doge — some comfort.”
“Alright,” Kestrel agreed, willing to accept a reason to spend another night in Estone.
“Good!” Castona smiled. “And when you see the Doge, could you put in a good word for me? Let him know that I was the one who told you to go see him? I’d appreciate it.”
Kestrel laughed at the ulterior motive revealed. He clapped his trader acquaintance on the shoulder. “I’ll go to the palace right now, and demand to see the Doge. You go find a ship for me.” He stood up and left the shop, striding through the streets of the city on his way to the palace, dodging traffic and slipping down alleyways to avoid slow spots. Within several minutes he stood at the gates of the palace and approached a guard.
“I want to see the Doge. I am the People’s Champion,” Kestrel said. He saw the boredom on the faces of the guards, and responded by pulling his cape away, then lifting his shirt over his head.
“I want to see the Doge, and I understand he wants to see me,” Kestrel said, as the two guards looked at him closely, then whispered between themselves.
“Step inside the gate here, and we’ll have a guide sent to take you inside,” one of the guards said.
Kestrel entered the gate, then pulled his shirt back on and wrapped his cowl around him. Within minutes, a palace servant in a luxurious uniform arrived, and led Kestrel inside, to a luxurious sitting room. “Moresond will be here in a few minutes to meet with you,” the servant said.
Moresond was the herald of the palace, the man with the deep rich voice who had met Kestrel at the time he had been invested with his titles. It was a check on his authenticity, he realized, one that might not even require him to remove his shirt again to prove his worthiness to be taken before the Doge.
The door handle turned, and a man dressed in black entered the large ornate room where Kestrel sat alone.
“Well, it is our young divinely approved champion, I see,” Moresond spoke as he approached. “We’re delighted at your return. I’ll go immediately to see the Doge and arrange for an audience, and then the two of you can make plans. He’ll be relieved to know that you have returned to protect your people.
“Just as a matter of curiosity, may I see the divine marking on your chest? I recognize you and will vouch for who you are, no matter. This is simply to indulge my own wish to see what the touch of a goddess can do,” he explained.
“Of course,” Kestrel agreed. He again lifted his shirt, realizing that he was likely to repeat the performance again for the Doge and others, and thinking that he needed to wear an easier shirt to remove.
“It is remarkable,” Moresond said. “There’s nothing to let one know it isn’t completely natural.”
“It is natural, now,” Kestrel assured him.
“Of course,” the herald agreed as he straightened up. “I’ll go now, and be back very soon.” He left Kestrel alone in the room as he departed. Only a moment later there was another knock on the door and two maids entered.
“Oh! We didn’t know anyone was in here,” one feigned to be unaware of Kestrel’s presence in the room.
“It’s no problem,” Kestrel assured them as they began to wipe and dust random pieces of furniture around the room, constantly stealing glances at him. Within two minutes, a young servant boy also entered the room.
“I came to see if I could help you with anything,” the boy said, his body pointed towards the maids, but his eyes focused on Kestrel.
He followed one of the two maids around the room, until there were no more obvious excuses to remain any longer. All three of them approached Kestrel to curtsey and bow. “Is there anything further we can do to assist your grace?” one of the maids asked.
“No, nothing at all, but thank you for keeping me company,” Kestrel said politely, as another knock foretold the return of Moresond, who looked at the cleaning staff with raised eyebrows.
“The Doge will see you now,” the herald announced. “He’s just finishing an audience with the new ambassador from Uniontown.”
Kestrel nodded to the trio in the room, then left. In the hall he and Moresond were promptly followed by two ceremonial guards. “It’s a sign of the respect the Doge has for you,” Moresond assured him in a calm voice, and they proceeded through a maze of turns to reach a grand receiving hall, where the Doge received visitors before a large number of members of the court. There was a sinister feel in the room, one unlike anything Kestrel had ever felt before, and he felt an alarming tightness in his chest, but as he stopped momentarily in reaction to it, the feeling dissipated, and the crowd in the room seemed to breathe a similar sigh of collective relief.
A large entourage was leaving the room on the far side, wearing a great deal of deep red, as two members of the group limped in a peculiar manner that seemed oddly familiar to Kestrel. Within moments he gasped audibly, as he realized the limp was the same uncomfortable gait that Hinger and Termine had used before their feet began to heal.
“Were there slaves in that group?” Kestrel abruptly asked Moresond.
The herald looked at him oddly. “Slavery is technically not permitted in the nation of Estone, but occasionally we find a case here or there. The ambassador is new to this post; we’ve never had any embassy from Uniontown before at all, so he may not know our laws and customs yet.
“He’s just been officially recognized, though he’s been here for several days. He and his staff have managed to offend virtually everyone they come in contact with — such arrogant people,” he explained. “Though there
are those weak-willed few who seem to crave a bully to make their decisions for them.”
“Here’s the Doge,” he switched topics as they arrived. “You’re not on the published schedule of course, so this will wake up the crowd, which is just what the Doge wants! Now wait right here until I call you forward,” Moresond was being quite talkative, Kestrel thought, compared to their last encounter. He wondered if the herald was nervous, or whether the palace official perhaps actually liked him.
“The Captain of the Fleet and Champion of the People, as designated by the Doge and confirmed by the divine Goddess Kai, Kestrel, seeks audience with the Doge,” Moresound called out loudly from the top step of the platform the Doge sat upon. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then an electric buzz in the air as every observer said something to their neighbor or even to themselves at the surprise arrival of the Champion.
The Doge waved Kestrel towards him, so Kestrel climbed the steps, and stopped just one step below the Doge on his dais. “I have just arrived in town last night, your honor, and wished to present myself to be received by you.”
“Thank you, friend Kestrel,” the Doge answered directly. “Do you have time at the moment for a private audience?”
“Certainly, your honor,” Kestrel replied.
“Good,” the Doge said in a low voice, as he rose from his seat immediately. “I need a happier visit after listening to that odious villain from Uniontown. The man seems to plan to become a force here in Estone; he’s announced plans for a grand party at his estate, and there seem to be a few weak-spined people who want to listen to his claims about new powers rising and a new order in the world,” he harrumphed as he led Kestrel and Moresond and a guard behind the throne and through a discreet door, down a hall, and into a quiet study, where the guard remained outside the door as the others took their seats inside.
“I’d like to see it, of course,” the Doge said immediately, a wish that Kestrel had anticipated. “Do you know, I’m having to arrange to allow pilgrimages into the palace these days so that the people can see the chapel where the goddess stood and touched you?” he added as Kestrel pulled his shirt up over his head and walked over beside the seated leader.
“The architect has elaborate plans for building a pilgrim’s way into the palace, just to the chapel and back out, which will be preposterously expensive, of course,” the Doge muttered lightly as he examined Kestrel’s artwork. “That’s quite a triple-headed title,” he commented softly. “Now turn around and let me see the back,” he commanded. Kestrel turned, and felt the Doge’s hand covering Kai’s handprint. “It’s a delicate feminine hand, isn’t it?” he asked. “Though it obviously can pack quite a powerful strike. You’ve been slapped by larger hands that left less pain, eh Moresond?” he chuckled.
“Yes indeed, though those slaps were long ago in my past,” the herald agreed with a smile.
“Thank you, have a seat and relax,” the Doge told Kestrel.
“There is so much I would like to know about you: who are you, where are you from, why did the goddess select you?” the Doge began.
“I won’t be here long,” Kestrel interrupted, “your grace.
“I have need to visit the kingdoms of the Inner Seas. I hope to be riding one of the next ships to leave your harbor,” he explained. “Within the next day or two if possible.”
The Doge sat back in his chair and looked at Kestrel speculatively. “I’d like for the members of the court and the council to have a chance to assemble and see you. It will do us all good to collectively know our champion comes among us; we don’t have to mention that you’ll be leaving, especially with this Uniontown troublemaker among us now.
“Will you be gone long?” he asked.
“It’s likely to be a few months, I think,” Kestrel answered.
“But you’ll agree to attend a reception?” Moresond interjected.
“My trader friend, Castona, also suggested that such a thing would be a good idea. He felt it would be good for the city, and good for the Doge,” Kestrel answered, “so yes, if we can make arrangements in the next day or two, I will attend.”
“Your trader friend is shrewd,” the Doge commented. “I’m sure we can make arrangements to hold a soiree at the court tomorrow evening. We’ll announce that the champion is within the city walls and wants to confirm his commitment to our people’s good will. You and I can hold a receiving line.
“Would you like for me to arrange for one of the ladies of the court to serve as your escort?” the herald asked.
“Let me see if I can find one myself,” Kestrel replied quickly.
“Very well,” the Doge answered. “Let’s return to the court and make the announcement, then you’ll be free to go and I can return to the scheduled appointments.
“Oh, and one more thing, my champion; I don’t know how you will handle it, but expect everyone to want to see the goddess’s mark on your chest.”
They walked back to the throne room, where the crowd grew silent as the Doge and Kestrel stood before the throne, while Moresond stood in front of them, a step lower, and made the announcement of the reception to take place the following evening. The room immediately burst into a roar of commentary as Kestrel slipped back out the small door, and discreetly left the palace.
He strolled through the city, as he went directly to Daley’s millinery shop, where he banged the door shut upon his arrival, startling Daley, Merilla’s father, who was cutting a delicate piece of fabric that needed delivery to a customer. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking up from his work and looking over the top of the glasses he wore for examining delicate items up close.
“My name is Kestrel, and I am a friend of Merilla’s,” Kestrel introduced himself. “We’ve met before, back when Merilla first returned.”
“Of course! Of course!” Daley replied. “You’re the one who rescued her and brought her back, then disappeared for — how long has it been? — over a month now. Would you like to see her? She and the boys happen to be here this morning. Stay right there and I’ll go upstairs and get her.”
The man sprung up from his chair and out the back door, leaving Kestrel to fidget nervously as he awaited the man’s return. Only a few minutes passed before the door opened, and Merilla stepped into the shop. Her eyes swept the room, then came to rest on Kestrel, and widened dramatically. “Oh Kestrel,” she practically moaned the words as she came rushing around the counter and into his arms.
Kestrel smiled broadly as they embraced. “I’m so glad to see you again,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re as lovely as ever.”
“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” she replied. She looked up at him and he kissed her, then they stepped apart.
“I’m just passing through the city for a day or two, and I had to visit,” he told her, and saw a look of concern momentarily race across her features.
“Your timing is extraordinary,” she paused. “I’m supposed to announce my engagement to Hammon the day after tomorrow,” she replied.
It was his turn to suffer momentary shock. He looked down at her, not knowing what to say. “The mothers have arranged it. The wedding won’t occur until after my mourning period is over, probably long after, if I can manage,” she explained. “Hammon won’t object to the delay, if I ask him, poor, sweet thing — he’s being manipulated into this almost as much as I am.”
Kestrel blanched at the thought of Merilla married to another man, but could imagine no realistic way he could intervene, unless he turned his back on all that he knew he had to do, and all that depended on him.
“But for the next two nights you’re not yet engaged?” he asked.
“In the eyes of the city, no. In the eyes of my mother, I already am,” Merilla answered.
“And what do your eyes see?” Kestrel asked. “Could you go to the palace with me tomorrow night as my guest at a reception?”
She stepped backwards a few inches, to better scrutinize his face. “What do you mean?”
“The Doge is going to hold a reception for the court tomorrow, to introduce the Champion to them all publically. I hoped you would be my escort,” he explained.
She stood silent for several seconds as she weighed the consequences of her decision; “Yes, I’ll be your escort,” she accepted the offer.
“Merilla? Are you still down here?” Kestrel heard Durille, her mother call, just moments before she came through the door into the shop. She paused upon entry and examined Kestrel for a long minute. “So you’ve returned, I see,” she said in a flat voice as she recognized him.
“Has Merilla told you her happy news?” Durille asked him.
“Kestrel just asked me if I’d go to a reception at the Doge’s court with him tomorrow evening, as his guest,” Merilla spoke up before Kestrel answered. “He didn’t know about my upcoming betrothal of course. I’ve agreed to go with him,” she said calmly, “since I will only still be a widow in mourning tomorrow, you know. He has to leave again in a day or two.”
Durille’s face was a mask as she listened and considered the implications of Merilla’s declaration, made in a determined voice. There was little likelihood of undoing this complication, she concluded, and then this bane of her plan to settle Merilla down would be gone again, and Merilla would be suitably engaged.
“That sounds like a wonderful plan, and your friend is fortunate to be invited to such a prestigious event,” she replied, wondering if he really was even invited to such an activity at the palace, never having learned of the honors he received. “What do you plan to wear?”
“I’ll make something. We’ve got all this fabric I can borrow,” she replied.
“Well, I better go back upstairs to watch your boys,” Durille said. “You’ll need to get back to them soon as well.”
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