A Marriage of Friends

by Jeffrey Quyle

  Gail was studying him intently, he saw, awaiting his answer, and he felt a sudden sense of confusion.

  “Her name is Moorin,” he answered, “and she is now the queen of the southern elves.”

  “You’re not a southern elf, are you?” Gail asked as she carried more dishes over, and began to serve portions on their plates.

  “No, I’m mostly an Eastern Elf, and partly human,” he answered.

  The girl served the rest of the courses on their plates, then was seated.

  “So tell me about this mission of yours,” Tyle said, as Kestrel placed his first bite of food in his mouth.

  He hurriedly chewed and swallowed. “A friend of mine was on a journey with me, and asked me to help her father in the battles that are going on in Uniontown,” he explained. “We became separated, and I had another duty I had to fulfill first, in the Eastern Forest.

  “That’s done, so I’ve come here to help her. And I’ve heard that she’s being held captive by one of her father’s rivals, so I’ve come to set her free.”

  The Duchess was watching him keenly, chewing a bite of food thoughtfully as he spoke.

  “This friend, her father wouldn’t happen to be Duke Listay, would it?” she asked.

  “It is,” Kestrel confirmed.

  “And his rival wouldn’t happen to be Duke Fields, would it?” she probed again.

  “Yes,” He answered simply.

  “And the friend in question would be that spunky fireball daughter of the Duke, Lark?” Tyle asked.

  “Oh!” Gail spoke up. ‘She’s my friend, the one I told you about. When my real hair color was revealed, she stayed true to me!”

  “And it just so happens that her brother Lucius is the leading candidate to take the hand of Gail in marriage,” the Duchess informed them both.

  “This is too perfect! You’ll be here to save Lark, then help put Fields in his place, and raise Listay to the throne,” the Duchess’s eyes were looking off into the distance as she put together the elements of a plan.

  “Absolutely perfect. The gods must be directing things to work out for us,” she said with a smile at Gail. “Now, the only thing we need to do is figure out how to help you defeat the Triplets, and everything will be aligned for success.”

  “Who are the Triplets?” Kestrel asked curiously.

  “I’m not sure if they are a ‘who’ or a ‘what’,” the Duchess said.

  “They’re like something from another world,” Gail said with a shudder.

  Kestrel felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the phrase.

  “They are a brother and two sisters, identical, and filled with power. Their parents mysteriously came down the river from the unknown lands south of the mountains. They each had small powers, and they arrived just before the Viathins arrived. The triplets were born here. They have powers, much stronger than their parents’ powers were.

  “They learned by watching the Viathins, and became stronger,” the Duchess explained, and Kestrel thought about how his own powers had dramatically improved when Krusima and Morph and Medeina had instructed him.

  “But what is extraordinary is that they can share powers, and they can’t be killed,” she said.

  Kestrel looked at her blankly. “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “When they are together, they give one another their abilities,” she said. “And if you try to kill one of them, one of the others can bring her back to life.

  “They support Fields, and he always keeps one of them safe, while the other two go out and do his work for him, they’re not reliable in some ways, and I think Fields will rue the day he began to rely on them. They’re so young they’re impulsive and unpredictable,” she said.

  “How old are they?” Kestrel asked.

  “Younger than Gail. Perhaps fifteen,” she guessed.

  “No one is a match for Fields with them using their abilities against his enemies,” she told him.

  “They helped Fields capture your, friend, Lark,” Tyle said. “There was something strange about that, but nobody knows exactly what.”

  “And where is Lark held?” Kestrel asked.

  “Ah, ah, not so fast, my young guest,” The Duchess wagged a finger at him. “We’ll give you the information you need, all in good time. You don’t need to be out gallivanting around too soon, before you should.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes after that, then Kestrel listened politely as the two women chatted about friends and family and conditions at the estate where Gail had lived in the north.

  When the meal was over, Gail rewrapped the veil around her head, then Kestrel raised his own hood and opened the door to call the servants back in.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said to the Duchess, as a servant waited to escort him back to his spot in the garden.

  “Thank you for escorting the young lady back to me, young hero,” the Duchess replied. Kestrel smiled and waved to Gail, and departed the room.

  “So there are battles in the streets of Uniontown?” he asked his escort as they walked through the mansion hallways.

  “Some sir, but only in a few places,” the servant replied.

  “Any near here?” Kestrel probed.

  “We’re just a half mile from the home of Duke Listay,” his leader said.

  “Is it easy to find?” Kestrel wanted to know.

  “Just outside the wall from your cottage, the market road runs straight south past Listay’s place,” the other man said as they reached the path to the cottage.

  “I know the way from here,” Kestrel assured him, and walked alone, back to his temporary quarters.

  Chapter 20

  Kestrel rested in his room for several hours, sleeping on and off, as he deliberated over what he should do. When he awoke in the quiet hours of the dead of night, he made the decision that he knew in his heart he had made long ago. He got up, got dressed, put on his knife and his bow, then left. He climbed a tree, jumped to the top of the wall easily, then dropped to the street outside the garden, and looked around. He looked up at the visible stars to get his bearings, then started trotting south.

  He was going to go see where the home of Duke Listay was. He wasn’t going to make contact. He wasn’t going to engage in any activity. He wasn’t going to find his way to Fields’s place. He was simply going to go see where Listay lived, so that he would know the home and its neighborhood, in preparation for when the time came for him to go there.

  The road he traveled was a wide city street, wide enough to carry three wagons abreast, Kestrel reckoned. He stayed near the side that was in deepest shadows, seeking no attention. He looked down the cross streets and alleys as he went, wary of anyone else who might be roaming about with ill intent in the dead of night.

  The further he went, the more shadowy figures he noticed, moving along the side streets and the alleys, when he happened to catch glimpses of them. They were moving in groups of one and twos, and they were going in the same direction that he was going.

  He was alert to trouble, and intuitively sensed that something was not right. When he saw an opportunity, he climbed up onto the roof of a short building that fronted the street, and from there he found opportunities to climb higher roofs, so that by the time he got to the fortified block that was Listay’s residence in the city, he was four stories above the street.

  Beneath him he saw that the shadows and the alleys held three score men who all waited in silence as they faced Listay’s base, and he knew that an attack was about to occur. Listay had men on watch, some on the roof, some at the windows that were still not boarded closed, and those men could see the impending assault as well. They held bows ready to fire as they stood tensely at their posts, but they were outnumbered, Kestrel observed.

  The assault began with a silent display of power, as a wave of arrows was launched upward from the street at the defenders who were visible. As soon as those arrows struck the fort, a score of the men in the streets ran forward, carrying a
battering ram, and they began to attack the main door into Listay’s residence.

  A bright yellow shield of power sprang into existence above the batterers, protecting them from the arrows of Listay’s defenders. The shield had to be the work of one of the Triplets, Kestrel thought to himself.

  The magical protection was angled to provide protection from the defenders in Listay’s building, but Kestrel had an unobstructed field to shoot at the rear of the attackers. He pulled his bow off his shoulder as the battering ram struck the door for the first time, and he began to fire arrows from his dark perch while the attackers were backing up.

  His elven arrows struck with unimpeded deadliness, swiftly downing the men along the ram, so that the assault halted in confusion. The living men, under fire as they watched their companions falling to the unseen defender, dropped the weapon, and ran for the safety of the alleys.

  The yellow shield flickered out of existence, while Kestrel threw his bow back over his shoulder and began to scramble away from his perch. He didn’t know where the Triplets were located in the dark battle zone, but he knew that the angle of his arrow shots had to have given his location away. He ran and leapt across an alleyway opening, his injury causing him to clear the gap with little margin for comfort. As he landed and rolled on the adjacent roof, a shower of balls of yellow energy flew up from the street below and caused a series of explosions that set the roof on fire. People in the building started screaming, and Kestrel saw that disaster was about to fall on innocent victims.

  He called his powers forth, then reached across the city to the river, and he began to swirl the cold dark waters near the docks, causing the fluid to rotate, turning faster and faster and faster, then he began to lift the water. The liquid rose, slowly and ponderously, a column beginning to ascend in the darkness, unseen on the empty docks.

  The water was heavy, a greater load than Kestrel had anticipated, and he was unaware as he fell to his knees and focused all his attention on calling more energy forth to boost his efforts; he remembered what Medeina had taught him about how to generate the power, and he used the knowledge. A bright blue loop of energy began to blossom in the sky, setting the city aglow as the path for the water became evident, and the river water began rise faster, following the glowing parabola that rose steeply, reached a towering peak, and then the water fell downward, plunging back to earth in a matter of seconds as gravity pulled it to where Kestrel wanted it.

  The water struck the rooftop, and extinguished the fire in the first seconds that the gallons of chilly liquid sucked the energy out of the fire. Kestrel exerted his powers, and shifted his target, moving the water spout’s terminus away from the roof, and towards the alleyway filled with Fields’s men. There was a chorus of screams, as the heavy water struck the tightly-packed men, breaking bones, knocking men about effortlessly.

  Kestrel released his powers focused on the river, ceasing the uptake of additional water from the river, while he moved the target of the already incoming torrent. He washed away men in the other streets, completely disassembling the midnight assault force. The last buckets of water finished their flight across the city, and the deluge finally came to a close. Listay’s fortress was saved from attack, as the ghostly blue glowing rainbow of the water’s path hung over the city, a demonstrable symbol of Kestrel’s successful defeat of the secretive attack.

  There was a scream of outrage from somewhere nearby. “Who are you!” a girl’s voice screamed in hateful frustration. “I’m going to kill you!”

  Kestrel grinned. The threat was an irresistible challenge. He was lying on his back, he realized, looking up at the sky, where his blue path still glowed. He reached a hand upward, and squeezed his last ounces of available energy out, sending them upward to the glowing line, and rearranging the line to spell out a challenge that hung over the city, a challenge and an announcement, a taunt to the Triplets – The Destroyer Returns was writ large overhead, telling the city.

  Kestrel dropped his hand, and closed his eyes. There was momentary silence, and then a number of screams rose from the streets, as his defeated foe saw his boastful announcement.

  He lay and listened to the shouts, and the turmoil in the streets, as the neighborhood reacted to the attack, the fire, the flood, and the exchange of powers. Kestrel rested, as Fields’s men withdrew, those that could, carrying the injured and dead as they slunk away, defeated unexpectedly.

  When silence returned, Kestrel wearily rose to his feet, and walked across the rooftop. There was a staircase that led down into the interior of the building, and he gladly took the route down, less taxing than jumping across roofs. He reached the street, and looked cautiously around, then wearily began to walk back to the estate of the Duchess Tyle. He pulled his hood high over his head to keep his identity concealed, and walked unmolested all the way back to the high garden wall he had climbed at the beginning of his adventure.

  He was too tired and sore to jump back over the wall. There was no convenient tree to climb. Kestrel gave a sigh of disgust. The sky was growing gray, and he realized that dawn was about to break. He walked around the corner, along the street, and then around the next corner, to finally reach the front gate that he had ridden through in a carriage the day before.

  The gates were shut, and there were no staff in sight to provide entry. Kestrel slumped down to sit on the ground, his back against the wall. He laid his bow across his legs, checked his hood once again to make sure his identity was concealed, then sat quietly and rested. He watched the buildings across the street grow brighter, and shadows emerged as the sun rose. Sounds rattled around, as the neighborhood came to life, and the working people of the city began to go about their business.

  “Did you see it?” he heard a wagoner ask his co-worker, as they drove past him. “The Destroyer is back in the city! He told the whole city – wrote it in the sky!”

  Kestrel didn’t hear the companion’s response as the wagon moved on, but he felt pleased that his message was seen. It was a stroke of fortune that he had checked on Listay’s facility at the moment that Fields had launched an attack, and he wondered at the fate that had been so fortunate, and so revealing. He’d seen the power of the Triplets in action, and saw that they had formidable power. He’d be cautious of them, given what he’d seen, and he was thankful for the advance notice he’d been given of their ability.

  “You, move along,” a voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up, and saw that one of the Duchess’s servants had emerged through the gates to chase him away; they didn’t tolerate loiterers apparently.

  “I’m a guest here. My name is Kestrel, and I arrived with the Langravine yesterday. I went out on the town, last night, and couldn’t get back,” he explained.

  “Move along. We don’t need storytellers,” the man said in a bored tome.

  “I’m telling the truth,” Kestrel said. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the rolled up locket of hair he had taken from the scene of the attack on Gail the day before.

  “Here, send this in to the Langravine, and tell her Kestrel is here,” he said wearily as he rose to his feet. He handed the token in the man’s hand. “And I want that back,” he said ominously.

  The man stared down at Kestrel, who responded by pulling his hood back partially, revealing his purple eyes. “I’d really like to return to the manor quickly,” he added, as the servant’s eyes widened at the sight of Kestrel’s purple eyes.

  “Come in now, my lord,” the man dropped the twirled circlet of hair back on Kestrel’s palm. He stepped back to the gate and motioned for Kestrel to enter.

  “My thanks,” Kestrel muttered, as he passed the man and heard the gates close behind him.

  “I’ll be moving to Duke Listay’s soon, maybe today,” Kestrel told the servant, mindful that his identity would make any location he chose a target to be attacked. He walked on, and circled around the exterior of the home to reach the garden in the back. His cottage stood in its quiet solitude when he reached it, and he g
ave a sigh of relief when he closed the door behind himself, back, exhausted, and ready to fall into his bed.

  Chapter 21

  “You’ve missed breakfast, my lord,” Kestrel heard a voice roust him from his deep sleep. “Her ladyship wishes to speak to you immediately.”

  Kestrel opened his eyes. A servant stood directly over him, looking down with concern in his expression, and perhaps a warning. “It’s past noon already; you must be famished.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Kestrel replied. He closed his eyes and rolled over to relax for a few minutes more. “Tell her ladyship I’ll be along in a few minutes. I’m sure she can wait.”

  He thought he heard a regretful sigh from the servant, but he couldn’t be sure, for the Duchess spoke clearly, immediately.

  “Her Ladyship expects to speak with you directly. I’ll wait for you in your parlor. Put some clothes on, and come to me,” her voice commanded.

  Kestrel’s eyes popped open, wide, and he looked to see her turning from his doorway.

  He looked up, and the servant’s eyes darted to the side, then the man left him as well.

  Kestrel was sprawled atop his covers in only his underthings, he realized, and blushed. He looked over in the direction the servant’s eyes had indicated, and saw a pile of clothing, new clothing.

  He looked towards the doorway, then crossed over to the clothing, and selected an outfit of a deep blue cowl, over a blue pair of pants and shirt. They all fit to perfection, and felt soft and comfortable as he slipped them on. He pulled his boots on, then ran his fingers through his hair, and left his room.

  The Duchess sat alone in the front room of the cottage, while the shadow of her servant was visible through the window.

  “There are tremors running through the city today. People are packing up and fleeing in fear. You made quite an impression last night. I would be proud of your flair, if I weren’t disappointed in your disobedience,” she told him forthrightly.

  He felt his face turn red in embarrassment. “I didn’t set out to do anything. I was out in the city, going to see where Duke Listay stayed, and I happened to be there when the attack began. I promised Lark that I would help her father, and I didn’t think that a night time sneak attack, especially one that was aided by magic, should be allowed to succeed,” Kestrel explained. “I really didn’t do that much,” he tried to play down his efforts, even though he had drained himself to the uttermost degree.