He looked over Dewberry’s shoulder, and saw that Stillwater, Killcen, Odare, and two others unknown to him, were also part of the pile that weighed him down.
“You all made it home,” he said, glad that the warriors who had accompanied him deep into Uniontown had completed the very long trip all the way across the length of the Inner Seas to return to the Swampy Morass. They had carried the body of Canyon, the fourth imp who had been in Kestrel’s bodyguard unit – physically carried it by flying across the countless miles – back to his home in the Swampy Morass to bury him with his ancestors. When Kestrel had watched them fly away he had worried about their chances of successfully reaching their goal.
“When we flew away from you, we feared that you would not prevail,” Odare spoke the very thought he had, in reverse. “Then, just as we were halfway home, we all felt our hearts lift with a strange happiness.
“I told them it meant that you had won!” Killcen crowed.
“We all thought the same thing,” Odare insisted.
“You have a great story to tell, I am sure,” Stillwater said.
“It is mostly a tale of the many hearts of human and elven women who have suffered unrequited love with you, while your own heart has pined for me, I am confident,” Dewberry said.
“He’s been enchanted, enthralled, with me since the first time he saw me at the healing spring,” she told the others. They began to climb off of him, floating a few inches upward, and making room for him to raise himself up and dust himself off.
“In fact, he tried to take me to his bed on that very first meeting,” she spoke confidentially to Odare. “I imagine he tried similar tricks with you?”
“I saw the temptation in his eyes, even when they were black eyes,” Odare answered, her fingers stroking her chin. “But he had other women, larger women with him, usually. He had both a human and an elf maiden. The human was very pregnant, though I do not believe the child was his.”
“Her child was born. He was born the very night you carried Canyon away. She named her son Canyon to honor him,” Kestrel told them.
“Aaah,” the small companions all said in unison, touched by the gesture.
“And there was another female with us,” Kestrel told them, making his three companions stare at him in confusion.
“There was not, unless you kept a secret, invisible woman with you. Did you hide someone from us?” Odare asked in mock indignation.
“She actually hid herself. Hiram was a woman, dressed as a man,” Kestrel revealed.
“Your reputation preceded you?” Dewberry asked tartly.
“Tell us about your adventure. Tell everything that happened,” Stillwater spoke up, and was supported by a chorus of agreement.
“Though there’s not a lot to tell,” Kestrel had decided he didn’t want to relive all the details of the entire adventure, “I thought that we might travel someplace to go over the story.” He longed for a journey to a spot that was filled with memories, someplace he hadn’t visited in a long time, and felt a spiritual need to visit.
There was silence on the part of the imps. Kestrel sensed that something had made them uneasy.
“My husband,” Dewberry said.
“The king,” Odare needlessly clarified.
“Was unhappy one day not long after our friends had brought Canyon home,” Dewberry continued.
“I don’t think he liked his supper,” Killcen explained.
“And so, in a fit of foolish anger, he forbade any of us to carry humans or elves or gnomes, until such time as he chose to lift his commandment,” Dewberry finished.
“It’s stupid,” Stillwater affirmed.
“Stupid, but it is his rule,” Dewberry suffered the pain of supporting her husband.
“I understand,” Kestrel said patiently. “I was going to suggest that we go to the healing spring, but I know that none of you would want to disobey your king.”
The faces in the air all turned to look at one another.
“I’ll go,” Stillwater volunteered immediately.
“Me too,” Odare added.
“I will tell the king where he can find us if he wishes to forgive us for breaking the rule,” Dewberry said. “I’m sure he’ll forgive us. I expect he’ll come join us as soon as he finishes his ceremonies.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked Kestrel, as the imps began to close in upon him. They were as eager as he was to revisit the waters where they experienced such pleasant times.
“No, not yet,” Kestrel told them. “Let me go get some water skins so I can bring the water back for my people to enjoy.”
“You are being a tease, Kestrel- tormentor! First you promise, then you refuse to carry out!” Dewberry scolded him.
“Come with me and we’ll go get the skins,” Kestrel told them. He entered his room, passed through it, then walked down the hall to the kitchens, and startled the staff when he brought his entourage of flying blue friends with him. One assistant baker fled the room, while the others stood slack-jawed, staring in amazement.
“I need a great many skins to fill with water, Bernie,” he told the head cook casually, setting off a scramble by the kitchen staff to gather together empty skins for their lord.
“We’re ready to go now,” Kestrel said once he held a dozen skins in his hand a minute later.
“Jonson will meet us at the spring,” Dewberry reported as the imps gathered around Kestrel. “I hope he’ll be gracious when he sees you, his former rival for my affections.”
Kestrel waved to the human observers, and then he disappeared with his blue huddle, leaving a babble of startled exclamations in the kitchen.
He felt the numb isolation of the traveling mode the imps and sprites used to make their miraculous journeys, and he realized that on this rare occasion he enjoyed the feeling. It was the first time to journey in such a manner since prior to the climax of his long campaign against the Viathins, and the discomfort of traveling outside of the world was oddly comforting, a reminder of when he thought the world was simpler and easier to understand.
And then the travels ended within moments, and Kestrel found himself standing on the green grass beside the spring waters. The bushes around the opening were blooming with fragrant flowers, and the setting was delightfully relaxing. The imps and Dewberry immediately shed their clothes, and stood expectantly on the edge of the shallow sandy shelf that Kestrel had come to use as the expected spot for his resting companions.
“Odare, now ladies first,” Kestrel said as he walked over and stepped into the water, then lifted the first imp down into the clean, warm spring. Her feet touched the water and she flashed a momentary smile, then closed her eyes and fell into a sleeping reverie of delightful dreams in the unfathomable fashion that all sprites and imps did upon contact with the waters of the spring. He then politely immersed the unknown other female imp.
“And now Stillwater,” Kestrel said.
“Did you not say ladies first, Kestrel-unmannered?” Dewberry squawked as she found herself jostled out of her position in the front of the line.
“I knew that as the gracious sovereign of these good imps, you would want them to go before you, oh queen of the imps,” Kestrel spoke in an extravagant fashion, while he laid Stillwater in the water.
He grabbed hold of Killcen. “I think you presume too much of me, Kestrel-fool,” Dewberry replied, as Kestrel laid Killcen down, and the other unknown companion as well.
“And, I just wanted a moment alone with you to tell you how glad I am to see you, my friend,” Kestrel told Dewberry, as he picked her up last, and momentarily dangled her over the water. “My heart is lightened by being in your presence once again.”
“I love you too, Kestrel-dearly beloved,” Dewberry spoke in a tender voice, and she reached one small hand out to caress his cheek.
“What am I witness to here? What frolicsome game is my naked wife engaged in with this giant paramour?” Jonson asked as he arrived at the spring just then.
“You have arrived too quickly, kingly husband,” Dewberry laughed. “Come join us,” she urged.
Jonson disrobed as Kestrel lowered Dewberry into the spring water.
“It is good to see you, and to know that you were victorious and are well,” Jonson courteously said.
“I only was able to succeed because you sent four such valiant warriors to assist me. I am very sorry for the death of Canyon,” Kestrel answered.
“His companions said that he died honorably, and that you demonstrated courage and power greater than they had ever seen before,” Jonson replied, as Kestrel lifted him. “I know that we are in your debt for the great victory you achieved.”
“I’ll tell you all about it when I awaken you all from your dreams,” Kestrel told him, then laid the king of the imps down into the water of the enchanted spring. He stepped over to the shore, and shed his own clothes, then took several minutes to fill his collection of water bags, and pile them on the shore.
Kestrel swam across the pool of spring water in the morning sunlight, and found a cranny among the rocks in the warm waters, where he was able to sit back and relax. He could feel the warm water caressing his body, and he could see the imps sleeping in the water. He could remember and imagine so many things that had happened at the spring, the times he had come there with the imps and sprites, the times he had come there with Alicia. He thought about the princess of the Northern Elves, Aurelia, who had been healed of a devastating disease after spending a night in the spring water.
His nightmares and concerns melted away. He listened to the water flow, and the birds sing, and he felt contentment. The Viathins were dead. That was the thing he had to remember. All his adventures, good and bad, had come about because of the Viathins. He had seen the men of Hydrotaz try to set the edge of the forest ablaze because the influence of the Viathins had sent them into action. The goddess Kai had answered his prayer and caused the mighty, fire-fighting rains because she sensed she was going to use him to fight the Viathins. The goddess Kere had taken an interest in him and sent him to the very healing spring he occupied because she too expected to see him battle the Viathins.
And now the Viathins were dead and gone. And Kestrel had managed to visit most of the nations of the Inner Seas in the process of fighting them. And he had made friends with folks in all those lands, and perhaps helped to reduce some of the potential for distrust and misunderstanding among the peoples of the nations.
He relaxed in the warm water, and imagined that Wren was there with him. His pugnacious cousin - who he had not known until his adventures were well underway - would be sympathetic to his sense of malaise, he thought. She had fought with him and distrusted him in the beginning of their battles together, and he had felt little respect for her when they first met. But the two of them had come to rely on one another and understand one another as their adventures progressed. If Wren were with him he’d be able to speak to her and grope towards some release of the dissatisfaction that troubled him.
He watched the birds in the trees and the clouds overhead, until he decided it was time to arouse the imps from their dreams in the water. He lifted them all from the water, then patiently waited as they awoke on their own and got dressed. Afterwards, they all sat on the grass, and Kestrel told the imps the story of what had happened on his adventure after Canyon’s friends had taken him home.
“You and the gnomes were bonded together in the Garrant Spark? Does that make you a gnome?” Dewberry asked.
“Only if you find gnomes desirable,” Kestrel replied, setting off gales of laughter among the imps, who could not imagine anyone finding gnomes to be desirable.
“And has your king given you great honors for your achievements?” Jonson asked.
“My king does not know yet,” Kestrel sheepishly admitted. “I have not sent him a report. I plan to send one any day now.”
“Would you not go to the king in person to make such a report?” Killcen asked.
“And visit the pretty lady doctor elf?” Odare asked.
“I just am not ready to go there yet,” Kestrel admitted. “I like the peace and quiet and relaxation I’ve enjoyed these past few days in Oaktown.”
“You owe your king the courtesy of a report on all that has happened in the world, just as he owes you gratitude and thanks for your great works,” Jonson said solemnly.
“I will write my report today,” Kestrel promised.
“Then let’s take you back to your home, so that you can get started,” Jonson said, as he stood up. The other imps followed, and Kestrel picked up his collection of water skins. Seconds later, they were transported back to the patio outside his study in Oaktown.
“Thank you for a wonderful morning with friends,” Kestrel told the imps as they released him. “I hope we’ll see each other soon.”
“We will, Kestrel-friend,” Dewberry replied, “but first, let us go out and do some traveling to all the places we haven’t been able to visit for several months. Then we’ll be back and be visitors once again.”
Kestrel entered his room, and startled a maid who was making the bed.
“My lord,” she curtsied and apologized, “I swear I looked out on the patio to make sure I would not disturb you before I started straightening.”
Kestrel laughed. “I’m sure you did; I just got back, and I’m going to my study now.” He spontaneously decided to slip one of the skins of spring water over his head and held it out to her. “Here, take this. If you don’t feel well, or if you know anyone who doesn’t feel well, use this water. Soak in it, pour in over a wound, take a drink, or dip a cloth in it and sponge it on the wound, and it will help cure the problem quickly,” he explained, then left the confused girl and strolled to his study.
With a pen and paper sitting on his desk in front of him, Kestrel stared at the far wall and tried to decide how to start his report. There was so much to tell that he couldn’t settle on the order to put his news items in. First and foremost was the end of the Viathin threat, he was sure. That would be a story all by itself. But the discovery of southern elves was news that would be critically interesting to the people of the palace at Center Trunk. He could tell the story of his return to ordinariness – he had lost the powers and energy the goddess had given him, there was no longer a protective tattoo across his chest, and his magical dagger Lucretia had exploded in the flesh of Ashcrayss, the dragon-god of the Viathins. He still had the skills that he had learned at Firheng – the use of the sword and the staff, as well as the language of the humans – but he no longer possessed the incredible tools that had made it possible to accomplish so much, though Kere had hinted that the potential to hold the powers might be his again.
And so he began to write about the death of the Viathins and the transformation of the waters of the Inner Seas into a protective inoculation that had ended the threat from the ravenous, terrible monsters. From there he went on to talk about the potential for peace with the human nations of the Inner Seas, if the elves of the Eastern Forest would make the effort to reach out to the humans; he cited the northern elves as an example of an elven culture that traded and spoke with humans. He next wrote about the southern elves, and their need for help, as well as the gnomes in the south, and he lauded the imps in extravagant terms for all the help they had delivered to him throughout his long, perilous adventure. And then finally, he summed up by thanking the king for the opportunity to serve, but hinted that he felt he had earned the right to retire to his new home in Oaktown and live with the people who looked up to him within the boundaries of his estate.
The sun had set, and Kestrel had missed two meals by the time his epistle was finished. He wandered into the kitchen where the cook was already gone, and a boy from the household staff was emptying buckets of water into the reservoir built next to the chimney.
“Where is everyone, Remy?” Kestrel asked.
“They’ve gone home my lord,” the boy answered respectfully. “But they left that carton of food for you,” he pointed
at a small wooden crate that sat on the counter nearby.
“They didn’t want to disturb you; what with those imps you have coming to serve you and all, the maids were scared to go into your room,” the boy explained. “There are so many stories about the things the imps do to people, you know.
“You must be the most powerful elf in the world to be able to control the imps the way you do,” the boy said.
“Not at all,” Kestrel laughed, as he removed the lid from the crate and stared down at the soup and bread and slices of meat that sat on a plate in the bottom of the crate. “I’m not powerful, and I don’t control the imps. I’m their friend. They are helpful for me, and I am helpful for them,” he explained to the dubious boy.
“Tell the people of the mansion that there is no reason to fear my friends the imps. Always greet them and invite them in,” he said as he lifted his plate of food.
“Have you had dinner?” he asked the boy as he looked at the heap of food in his hands.
“Not much,” Remy answered, as he lifted a bucket up over his head and emptied it into the reservoir.
“Here, have this,” Kestrel tore the loaf of bread in half, then laid several slices of meat on the counter next to the bread. He walked back to his study with his food, leaving the astonished, and grateful, boy joyful as he stuffed food into his mouth.
Chapter 3 – Cedar Gully
Writing the report proved to be cathartic for Kestrel. He slept much better that night, without the dreams or nightmares that had troubled him before. He woke alert and in time to see the sun rise above the trees on the horizon. He ate breakfast in the dining room, then returned to his bedroom and saw the pile of water skins he had brought back from the healing spring.
“Whyte, is there anyone who is ill or injured around the mansion?” he asked his steward after he strolled through the mansion and found the man.
“A few, my lord,” the steward answered. “We’re lucky we’re not suffering the way the folks over at Cedar Gully are – they’ve got a terrible outbreak of some disease there, I’m told.”
The Guided Journey (Book 6) Page 2
