Kestrel drew his sword to try to protect himself, holding the blade in one hand while holding the staff in the other, and he surrendered territory in a quick, backward, step-by-step retreat. The yeti advanced, leaving Hampus behind, and Kestrel saw the wounded elf rise to his feet after a long moment.
Kestrel’s next step back found the edge of one of the plateau’s chasms, and he was forced to halt his retreat as the yeti pinned him in place, and began to step forward through Kestrel’s largely ineffectual sword and staff blows.
Hampus was standing nearby, watching the attack. Kestrel saw that the other elf was making no move to come to his assistance.
“Hampus! Distract it!” Kestrel shouted, just as he was struck by the yeti and thrown backwards into the crevasse. His sword and staff both went flying from his hands, and his pack flew off his back. He heard the wood of his bow crack as it struck the bottom of the canyon while he fell through the air, and he landed heavily on his back after a fall of several feet. He lay on the ground, dazed, looking up at the monster’s head peering down at him, feeling terrible pain in his ribcage.
He tried to rise to his knees, every motion filled with pain. Kestrel was in dire circumstances, and he knew it – there was no hope of outside help arriving, and little hope that Hampus would assist him. As he realized his predicament, he saw the yeti reach down into the pit.
The long arms of the monster grabbed his shoulder, then lifted him and flung him several feet away, so that he landed hard again, and felt more pain, sure that he had cracked several ribs. He had no weapon, and the yeti was turning to face him, to approach him, to kill him.
Fantasy Series by Jeffrey Quyle
The Inner Seas Kingdoms Series
The Healing Spring
The Yellow Palace
Road of Shadows
A Foreign Heart
Journey to Uniontown
The Guided Journey NEW-Published August 2014
The Ingenairii Series
Visions of Power
2. At the Seat of Power: Goldenfields and the Dominion
3. The Loss of Power: Goldenfields and Bondell
4. The Lifesaving Power: Goldenfields and Stronghold
5. Against the Empire
6. Preserving the Ingenairii
7. Rescuing the Captive
8. Ajacii and Demons
9. The Caravan Road
10. The Journey Home
Alchemy’s Apprentice Series
The Gorgon’s Blood Solution
The Echidna’s Scale
Scarlet from Gold
The Southern Trail
Also by Jeffrey Quyle
The Green Plague
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The Guided Journey
The Inner Seas Kingdoms Series
Book 6
Jeffrey Quyle
Index
Chapter 1 –Night Time Ritual Page 1
Chapter 2 –Return of the Imps Page 4
Chapter 3 –Cedar Gully Page 13
Chapter 4 –The Twins Visit the Spring Page 26
Chapter 5 –Mushroom Market Page 42
Chapter 6 –From Pebbles to Pearls Page 49
Chapter 7 –Robbery in the Streets Page 59
Chapter 8 –The Unmatchable Statue Page 68
Chapter 9 –Recovery Page 73
Chapter 10 –Traders From Hydrotaz Page 81
Chapter 11 – Center Trunk Events Page 85
Chapter 12 –A Visit to Alicia Page 93
Chapter 13 –The Palace Meeting Page 96
Chapter 14 –Betrothed to the Princess Page 99
Chapter 15 –The Journey North Page 116
Chapter 16 –Firheng Page 126
Chapter 17 –In the Mountains Page 130
Chapter 18 –Nightmares from Gods Page 135
Chapter 19 –Bathing a Yeti Page 146
Chapter 20 –Battle with the Miners Page 156
Chapter 21 –The Evil in the Mine Page 168
Chapter 22– Orren Joins the Group Page 181
Chapter 23 – In Narrow Bay Page 191
Chapter 24 –Danger at the Spring Page 197
Chapter 25 – At Kirevee Page 207
Chapter 26 – Flight with the Princess Page 223
Chapter 27 – The Stone Patrol Page 227
Chapter 28 – Lucretia at Oaktown Page 236
Chapter 29 – The Mobile Battle Page 244
Chapter 30 – The Statue Page 251
Chapter 31 – Departure from the North Page 253
Chapter 32 – Putienne’s Transformation Page 271
Chapter 33 – Following Kai’s Direction Page 299
List of Characters
Kestrel, Warden of the Marches in the Eastern Forest
Philip, Prince of Graylee
Picco, member of Graylee nobility, Creata’s sister, Ruelin’s wife
Creata, Graylee Duke of the East Seashore, ambassador to Seafare
Stillwater, Odare, Killcen, Acanthus, Mulberry, imps assigned to Kestrel
Dewberry, sprite, queen of the imps
Alicia, Center Trunk surgeon
Moorin, of the Northern Elves, Tyndall Shail of the Southern Elves
Ruelin, Prince of Seafare
Wren, cousin to Kestrel, betrothed to Creata
Lake, Prince of the Southern Elves, Tyndall Span
Remy and Pont, young elves of Oaktown
Whyte, Steward of Kestrel’s manor
Jacquie, Parisse, nurses from Oaktown
Major Grenwort, officer at Center Trunk
Captain Lim, officer at Center Trunk
Elwean, princess of the Eastern Forest
Elder Miskell, leader of Eastern Forest forces
Casimo, Firheng commander
Belinda, Firheng assistant
Aurelia, princess of the Northern Forest
Lucretia, elven ambassador to Hydrotaz
Lucretia, maiden in waiting in the Northern Forest court
Lord Ripken, Northern Forest nobleman
King Winche, ruler of the Northern Forest
Orren, survivor of mine disaster
Raines, human woman from Narrow Bay
Putienne, a yeti of the Water Mountains
The Human Deities:
Kai – goddess of the air Growelf – god of fire
Krusima – god of earth Shaish – goddess of water
The Elven Deities:
Kere – goddess of fortune Norvell – god of light
Tamson – god of force Were – goddess of sound
Morph – god of speed Powson – god of weight
Tere – goddess of size
The Gnome Deity:
Corrant
Prologue
Kestrel had saved the world. A young elf, he had been plucked from obscurity, and sent on a mission. At first, he had ostensibly been an elven spy, watching the intrigues of the humans, but his greater role had been to act as the agent of the gods.
Goddesses from the humans and the elves, with cooperation from others, selected and assisted Kestrel in a greater challenge – the battle to defeat the invading race of reptilian Viathins, and their god, Ashcrayss.
Kestrel had gone through a grueling series of adventures in his battles, and his travels had taken him across more nations than any other elf of the Eastern Forest had ever traveled. He was able to make the journeys in part because he was part-human himself, and able to be made to look human, unlike the typical full-blooded elves of the forest, who looked down upon his racial ambivalence.
He also succeeded because of his fortunate friendship with the sprites and imps. Both races had been reclusive to the point of s
eeming mythical, but a chance occurrence caused Kestrel to perform a favor for the royal family, and a rare and deep friendship developed, placing the particular talents of the imps at the call of Kestrel.
Kestrel fell in love over and over again as he visited the many nations of the Inner Seas, but he never found love in return, because of numerous challenges. His greatest lost love was Moorin, a part human/part elf noble beauty of the Northern Forest, who he rescued from trouble, only to watch her seek a life far away from him.
When his battles against the Viathins finally ended, Kestrel made a long journey home to the Eastern Forest, and retired, he hoped, to live a peaceful life as a nobleman, the Warden of the Marches, a title and an estate granted to him by the king of the Eastern Forest elves.
But it turned out that a quiet life was not his destiny.
Chapter 1 – Night Time Ritual
Kestrel sat in the wood-paneled study of the large mansion he had been given by the king, in the dim illumination provided by a single candle that burned in a wall scone on the opposite side of the room. He was sipping from a cup that held water and whiskey. The local men of the village had given him a bottle of the golden liquid, thinking that Kestrel would use it the way that every other elf used whiskey, as a painkiller. They hadn’t realized that his human heritage caused whiskey to do more than deaden pain for him; Kestrel had discovered the surprising effect of whiskey the first time he’d tasted the drink. He’d been at Elmheng, the small provincial city in the northern part of the Eastern Forest; he’d badly hurt his arm, and a doctor had used whiskey as a painkiller.
Kestrel reflected that perhaps he was using the whiskey as a painkiller in a different sense, as he sat alone and sipped from his cup, and reflected on all the adventures he had endured over the course of the past few years. He’d accepted a bargain with a goddess, and the price of the bargain had been very, very high. He felt satisfied that he had achieved the extermination of the Viathins from all the lands of the world. He was hopeful that he had also opened the door to better relations between the elven and human nations that were clustered around the Inner Seas. And he knew that he had been given titles, accolades and rewards that were far beyond anything he had ever expected to achieve. In the days since he’d returned, he’d lived with more luxury and comfort than he ever pictured for himself when he was a simple guard watching the border.
But he felt a deep restlessness nonetheless, a dissatisfaction that was welling up from his heart, and he mourned for whatever it was that he had lost – innocence, love, or perhaps even the capacity to be satisfied. The people of Oaktown had welcomed him warmly, glad to have a ruler back in the mansion. They knew Kestrel only a little, for he’d spent little time In Oaktown since the day when the King had granted the Western Marches, former domain of Sir Chandel, to Kestrel. Chandel had been the warden of the western portion of the Eastern Forest kingdom; he’d been responsible for safety and security for elves in the region, a responsibility he had sadistically interpreted to mean, among other things, hunting and harming the imps who lived in the Swampy Morass to the south.
Kestrel believed that the responsibility of his role was based more on him providing service to the people, instead of him expecting to receive service – and taxes and tribute of all sorts – from the people of the region. Kestrel had learned that the people of Oaktown had been beaten down by Chandel’s avaricious ways, and were still astonished that Kestrel did not seek to take as much from them as the former lord had. Thus, the gifts that were being given to him, such as the bottle of whiskey, presented to him when he went to visit the patients of the local doctor, were tokens of appreciation.
As he sat in the study, he knew that he needed to send a message to the king at Center Trunk, to let the sovereign know that Kestrel was back, that the Viathins had been exterminated, and to urge that efforts be made to reach out to the other kingdoms of the Inner Seas, both elven and human. Kestrel had come to conclude that the Eastern Forest was too isolated, too insular, for its own good. In his travels, he’d found no other strong nation that had managed to be successful without greater interactions with its neighbors than the elves of the Eastern Forest practiced. It was a message he knew Center Trunk would ignore.
He promised himself once again that he would sit down and write the message to the palace, just as he had so promised himself for several days. He realized that the more proper expectation would be that he would journey to Center Trunk and deliver his report in person. The king would rightfully expect his vassal to deliver such an astonishing report as Kestrel had to offer. But Kestrel had no wish to go to Center Trunk in person. Chief among his objections, he did not want to face Princess Elwean, who had been very direct in her last conversation with Kestrel, when she had told him that she had an obligation to marry and to produce an heir to the throne, and had let Kestrel know that his rise to prominence had made him a suitable candidate for such a role. Kestrel felt no desire to play such a role.
Nor was Kestrel ready to face a meeting with Alicia, who he presumed was living in Center Trunk as well. He and the widowed doctor had a deep and intimate relationship, but one that carried a great deal of baggage, too much for Kestrel to feel comfortable in facing yet. She had been an unshakeable friend and ally for Kestrel, but she had also been the unfaithful wife of his mentor, Colonel Silvan, the head of the elves’ spying and espionage system, and he still resented the pain and turmoil that her infidelity had caused.
What’s more, Kestrel knew that whenever he did finally send his report off to Center Trunk for delivery, it would be sure to be answered with a demand that he travel to the capital to report in person. And so he waivered in his determination to send the report, and continued to delay.
He took the last sip of the whiskey and water, then listened to footsteps in the hallway.
“You should be getting your rest, young master,” Whyte, his steward told him as he peered in through the door that was ajar.
“And so should you, Whyte,” Kestrel answered in just as kindly a tone. He stood up and walked over to the candle, then snuffed it out.
“I’m ready,” he said. His eyes and the steward’s adjusted rapidly to the darkness, taking advantage of the wonderful vision that the elven race possessed. He walked to the doorway, and shook hands with the servant, then walked to the residential wing of the manor, where he slept alone, while Whyte finished making his final inspection of the mansion before turning in for the night.
Kestrel thought about what lay ahead. He’d sleep through the nightmares that he was sure to have – he had nightmares every night, nightmares with Viathins and terrifying situations in which he or some friend always faced an unescapable situation. Or he’d face some desperate need to call upon the power of the gods, the power that Kere had told him was lying untouched within him, but he would be unable to summon the power to provide his relief as the unknown terror drew closer. And then he would wake up when the sun rose, and he’d face a tomorrow beyond the terrible dream, a relief from the torture that sleep had become. Even better, he had something to look forward to when the sun rose. It was a day that promised to be one of the best days he’d known in months. Tomorrow would be the first day of spring. The imps and sprites would be able to travel once again, and he intended to call them to come see him.
Chapter 2 – Return of the Imps
Kestrel awoke after the sun was above the horizon. He was sweating with terror, for the nightmare he had awoken from had been more gruesome than usual. He’d been frozen in place, unable to move, and watched as a horrific version of a Viathin had been eating a prisoner alive. He knew that the prisoner in the dream was a very good friend, though he did not know who it was. Kestrel had been unable to exercise his powers, unable to flip Lucretia at the monster, unable to help in any way. The powerlessness had been horrifying.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to shake away the feeling of helplessness, then suddenly remembered that spring was beginning, the sprites and imps would be
able to travel once again, and he had a reason to feel more cheerful. He smelled the aroma of fresh-baked rolls, and realized there was a covered tray of breakfast goods sitting on a table near the door to his room. He ambled over to the tray and grabbed a roll, one baked using the coarse acorn flour that all elves enjoyed, still warm and fresh as he bit into it.
He went to clean himself up once the roll was gone from his hand, then went downstairs and opened the windows of his study, including the glass doors that opened onto a patio. He wanted to give the imps plenty of space to fly in when they came to see him.
Satisfied that space was available, Kestrel took the additional precaution of stepping out onto the patio. He walked to the center of the patio, standing on the smooth slate floor, then grinned as he looked up into the sky and whispered.
“Dewberry, Dewberry, Dewberry!” he said softly. He didn’t know how well the imps and sprites actually heard him when he called; he imagined that a whispered request would be like a ghostly, soft voice heard just beyond the range of certainty, making his sprite friend doubt what she heard, then decide to follow the uncertain sound.
His mind was just finishing its speculation on the appearance of a perplexed sprite, when the sky was filled with a half dozen blue bodies all around him, a circle that blotted out the blue sky as they arrived, circled, then plummeted upon him, driving him to the ground under the weight of their grasping hugs.
“I told you I heard him! Is this not worth leaving the celebration?” Dewberry crowed to the others.
She was the one who had claimed, or wrestled her way into, the prime position, atop his chest, her face directly in front of his.
“You are alive! Kestrel-friend, we are so excited! You are alive!” she repeated twice in her excitement, before she pressed her cheek against his and hummed with happiness.
The Guided Journey (Book 6) Page 1
