There was a sudden pounding at the door, and Margo rushed to look out the window. “Kestrel! It’s the prince’s guards!” she spoke fearfully. “We need to hide you; we need to get you out of here.”
“I’ve got this bad leg Margo,” Kestrel said, feeling a strange calmness overcome him. “I won’t be able to get away. It’s better that I give myself up, and avoid giving them any excuse to enter and harm either of you.” He walked to the door as one of the servants opened it.
“I presume you’re here for me,” Kestrel addressed the guard at the door before he could even speak.
“That’s correct,” the man said simply. “Will you come with us now?”
Kestrel turned and looked at the two girls, frozen in the dining room, unprepared for thesudden arrival of Kestrel’s arrest. “I’m ready,” he said calmly to the waiting escort. “You’ll have to make allowances for my leg.”
“We’ve got time, don’t worry,” the guard said.
“Thank you girls,” Kestrel stood at the door and said. “You are both two of the best people I have ever known.” And with that the door was closed behind him and he slowly advanced down the walk, surrounded by a half dozen guards, as another six waited out by the street.
Kestrel asked no questions as he was walked through the streets, and no explanations were offered. His injured gait, aided by the staff he was allowed to use, was slower than the guards wanted, it was evident from the repeated comments to “pick up the pace”. Kestrel wondered if they were just impatient to deliver him to his destination, or if they feared an incident on the streets.
No event disrupted their journey, and soon they entered the gates to the palace, and descended into a subterranean passage that was dimly lit. After a further journey beneath the palace they came to a block of cells, where Kestrel had his staff, his knife, his boots, and his belt all confiscated, and he was then pushed into a cell, and the door was slammed shut behind him.
There was virtually no light in the cell. The only illumination came from a dim lantern that sat on a desk outside the room, so that even Kestrel’s elven vision strained to see many details in his captive home. He had a chamber pot and a cot, and nothing else. And so he sat and waited to see what would happen.
After what seemed to him to be several hours, Kestrel quietly called, “Dewberry, Dewberry, Dewberry,” in a forlorn hope that he might be rescued easily by the sprite. As he suspected though, his friend did not appear, apparently still in that other place, wherever it was, that Jonson had gonein order to find an answer to Uniontown’s monster lizards, and so he remained isolated in his cell.
There eventually came a noise from beyond his door, and then the sound of several feet walking in the hallway. The group approached his cell, the door noisily opened, and a trio of guards entered the cell, holding a smoky torch. “We’re here to escort you to your audience,” the lead guard said, and Kestrel was walked through numerous halls and up stairs, traveling slowly, without his staff to help him. It was dark outside, he realized as he saw a dim window.
They slowly climbed another set of steps, and entered a room that was dimly lit by a few candles. A small group of men stood at the other end of the room, their features hidden in the darkness. Kestrel was pushed against a wall, and shackles were attached to his wrists and ankles, securing him to the hard stone surface. He felt the fear that was rapidly rising in his psyche, climbing up, as the escort guards left the room, and the shadowy men moved forward, the candles coming with them.
“We know you are helping the old gods who want to overthrow the prince so that they can expel the new gods from Graylee,” one man said. As he came into view, Kestrel could see that he and two others wore the red robes of Uniontown, while two other men wore nondescript clothing, attire not of the noble class.
“We want you to give us the names of all the people who are conspiring against the prince,” the nameless man said. “And we’ll stay here all night to get those names if we must.”
After that statement, and Kestrel’s protest that there was no conspiracy, a brutal night ensued, and Kestrel’s fears were realized. He was beaten with fists and clubs, cut and stabbed with knives, and his hands were viciously smashed against the wall with hammers and mallets. The attack was relentless, as the hours dragged on and the torturers grew frustrated with his lack of cooperation.
His eyes were swollen to slits, so that he could see little around him, when he dimly became aware that the room was growing brighter, and he realized that sunrise was taking place. His chains were unshackled and he fell to the ground, then was carelessly carried back to his cell and dumped on his cot. His pain was unbearable, and he sobbed in agony, until he passed out in exhaustion, his body shutting down as a desperate act of self-preservation. When he awoke sometime later, he realized that regardless of his own fate, his friends were in mortal danger, and he mourned that he could not warn them.
“Dewberry,” he called out forlornly, then “Jonson”. Hopelessly, he called “Reasion, Reasion, Reasion,” as he heard his cell door open.
The jailer entered the cell, then swore in fear, “What monster is this?” Kestrel heard the cell door slam close, and he opened his eyes to see a blue sprite looking down upon him.
“Reasion, is that you?” he croaked through his battered throat and swollen lips. The little sprite dropped down closer to him, then stroked his face gently.
“Can you help me? Can you take me away from this place?” he asked.
Reasion nodded, then disappeared. The cell door opened, and Kestrel saw three jailers enter the room, swords drawn.
“I tell you, there was some creature here, something blue that flew in the air!” one of them said insistently.
“What? You’re seeing sprites?” another jailer scoffed.
And then Reasion and two other sprites appeared in the cell, and dropped down to envelope Kestrel. “They’re going to eat him!” one of the guards screamed, and the three men fled the cell in panic.
“Reasion, please take me to the last place you saw me in this city. I have to warn my friends,” Kestrel said. “And then I’ll need to go back to the Eastern Forest to heal.”
He closed his eyes, and felt his body experience the strange sensations of shifting through space. He was suddenly lying upon a soft mattress, back in his room on the fourth floor of Creata’s house, with only dim light filtering in through the window. Kestrel didn’t know whether it was dawn or dusk.
“Thank you, thank you Reasion. Thank you friends,” he said to the sprites.
“Reasion has asked us to help, in the name of Dewberry, and so we are here to assist,” one of the sprites replied. “But please don’t make us wait too long.”
“Go wait in the bathing room,” Kestrel directed them. As they left, he called out as loudly as his mangled body could. “Philip! Picco! Margo!” then waited to see what response he received.
There were steps outside the door in the hallway, and then a maid opened the door and looked in. “Oh gods above!” she screamed at the sight of the battered, bloody body lying on the bed.
“Please go get one of the nobles,” Kestrel asked, and the maid immediately closed the door in terror.
Moments later feet came running up the stairs, and Philip and Creata barged into the room, swords drawn, unable to identify Kestrel immediately because his wounds so disfigured his appearance.
“Oh Kestrel!” Philip moaned as he sheathed his sword and knelt next to the bed, Creata leaning over his shoulder staring in horror.
“The palace thinks there’s a conspiracy against the prince,” Kestrel slowly mouthed the words. “They tried to make me name the people who are trying to overthrow the prince.
“I didn’t name anyone, but I know they’ll come after my friends next. You all have to flee,” Kestrel motioned his arms. “You need to go someplace safe, go back to your manor,” he urged.
The door started to open behind the two men. “Philip, what is it?” Margo asked.
“Don�
�t let them see me like this,” Kestrel whispered.
“Stay out Maggie. We’ll come fill you in later,” Philip answered.
The door latched closed, and Philip looked back down at Kestrel. “What can we do for you? Let me call a doctor,” he started to turn towards Creata, who started to back towards the door to go seek medical assistance.
“No,” Kestrel answered. “I’ll go where I can be healed,” he grunted in pain. “Just promise me you’ll leave immediately.”
“We’ll send the girls away,” Philip promised. “But we can’t leave, my friend. The truth is, there is a conspiracy to overthrow the prince, and we’re both part of it. We can’t abandon our friends now.”
Kestrel’s eyes widened. “I’ll be back to help, when I’m healed,” he promised. “Would you open the window please?” he asked.
“The window? Why?” Creata answered. “You need to rest, and you need help, desperately. Let us take you someplace we can hide you and help you recover; you need a doctor immediately.”
“I’ll see a doctor soon. But in the meantime, please open the windows; I’m going to call my weapons to return, and they may break the window when they arrive if you don’t open it,” Kestrel warned.
Philip circled around the bed and threw the window open.
“Lucretia, Mastrim, return to me,” Kestrel said softly.
“Where are they?” Creata asked. “How do you make them return?”
“The goddess gave them the power to come back to me. I don’t know how far off it works, or where they are, but I hope they’ll come to me now,” Kestrel replied. He closed his eyes in pain again, then sensed the approach of his tools. He held his arms wide, his fingers too shattered to grip, they watched the two weapons arrive, and they nestled gently against his torn body as he closed his arms around them.
“I have to go now,” Kestrel announced. “Reasion, I’m ready,” he called, and Philip swore in shock as the three blue bodies floated out of the bathroom door and descended around Kestrel. “Good bye, friends – I’ll come back to help you,” he said, and then he and the sprites disappeared from Graylee.
Chapter 10– Betrayal
The sprites returned Kestrel to Alicia’s room, which was dark. He vaguely heard a fumbling sound. “What was that?” a voice asked.
“We’ll go now, friend,” the sprite with a voice announced. “Call us again if you need us,” and then Kestrel no longer felt the blue bodies pressed against him in the blackness.
“Who’s there?” Alicia’s voice asked, and then there was a noise, and a lantern was lit, revealing the furnishing of her room. Alicia was leaning out of bed, the sheet pulled back as she reached for her lamp.
Next to her in the bed, looking over her from the far side of the mattress, was Giardell.
Kestrel’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out.
When he awoke sometime later, he was lying on the cot in the operating room, a dim light spreading from a lamp turned down in one corner of the room, and Alicia sitting on a stool nearby, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
Her eyes opened, as she seemed to feel his scrutiny of her, and she rushed from her seat to his side. “Oh Kestrel, who has done this to you?” she asked, tearfully. “You’re stronger than any elf I can imagine to withstand so much pain.”
He closed his eyes. “How much pain can Silvan withstand?” he asked.
“Please,” Alicia began. “Please, not now. I know how much can be said;I’ve said all of it and more myself. But right now we just need to keep you alive and restore you to health.”
“How’s Lucretia?” he asked.
“She’s improving dramatically,” Alicia answered. “She’s not far away. Would you like for me to call her here?”
“No,” Kestrel said sharply. “I don’t want her to see me like this.
“I think I need to go to the healing spring and soak in the water there,” he suggested.
“That’s the only thing possible. If you’ll call Dewberry I’ll be ready to go with you in just a few minutes. Let me tell someone we’re leaving,” she clearly meant Giardell, her husband’s personal guard, and her secret lover, to be the someone she would talk to.
“Go ahead, and bring extra water skins too,” Kestrel said, then he closed his eyes and rested. He heard Alicia leave the room, and he sighed cautiously, the deep breath feeling painful within his damaged ribcage.
“Kestrel? Are you okay?” Alicia asked tentatively a few minutes later, as she returned with her arms full of waterskins.
“I’m ready,” she added. “Call Dewberry,” Alicia told Kestrel.
“Dewberry is gone. Her friend Reasion is helping me now,” Kestrel briefly explained. “Reasion, Reasion, Reasion,” he said softly. There was a delay of several seconds, and then Reasion and two other sprites appeared.
“Elf friend of sprites,” one of them said, looking at Kestrel and then looking at Alicia. “We know that Dewberry has done many favors for you, and we know that you have done many favors for her, and we know she is a royal princess who may do things others may not.
“But Reasion is risking trouble for being seen so often by so many mortals, and we will be placed in trouble too,” the sprite explained, as Reasion looked on with a sad expression. “So we will carry you this one more time, but after this we must await Dewberry’s return before we break the laws.”
Kestrel listened to the explanation, and thought about the problems it posed. There might be a solution, he realized.
“I need you to take two of us this time,” Kestrel began, noting the expression of disapproval on the sprite’s face, “but if you will take the two of us to the healing spring, and then take us each away when we all are done there, we will also watch over you while you rest in the waters.
“Would you accept such a bargain for this last time of assistance?” he asked.
“You will take care of us while we are allowed to sleep and dream the dreams of the magic waters?” the sprite asked enthusiastically.
“If you will bring Alicia along too, and then bring her back here when all is done, and take me to the place I was at before this,” Kestrel clarified.
The three sprites formed a small circle for several moments. “That is a satisfactory bargain,” their spokesman said.
“Before we go,” Kestrel stopped the sprites from their descent, “Alicia, I’ll need you to fix my ears again,” he said. “Can you bring your knives and cut them at the spring?”
She left the room again, to Kestrel’s surprise, since he supposed all her instruments were kept there, and returned some minutes later with another skin full of liquid. She rolled several items together in a cloth, then gathered her materials together.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Should you leave a note or anything?” Kestrel asked, as the sprites gathered around him.
“I told Giandell,” she said shortly.
“We three will take you one at a time,” the sprite spokeman explained. “You will be first, friend of our race,” he said, and Kestrel was whisked to the banks of the pool. The sprites disappeared, leaving him briefly alone, then returned with Alicia seconds later.
“Can you lower them into the water, there,” Kestrel pointed at the spot for Alica, “where they rested the last time you were here?” he directed, as the sprites shed their clothes and eagerly awaited their visit to the water.
Within minutes the sprites were unconscious in the water, and Alicia turned to Kestrel. “Why aren’t you in the water?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I can’t undress myself,” he said with a gulp, “my hands,” he held up the battered, crippled appendages.
“Oh Kestrel, how could I forget?” she cried with an anguished expression on her face, and even though he was appalled by the betrayal he had unwittingly discovered her engaged in, he was touched by the genuine sympathy he watched her display. She came over to him and began to remove his garments as gently as she could. “Kestrel,” she st
opped as she saw him wince, “these clothes are filthy, caked in blood. They need to be soaked too; why don’t we move you into the water dressed as you are, and then take the clothes off later?”
Kestrel assented, and minutes later he was laying in the darkness, only starlight and the rising crescent moon illuminating the spring, as Alicia silently undressed and stepped into the water too, filling the water skins and tossing them on the bank, then coming to sit beside Kestrel.
“What happened to you, Kestrel?” Alicia asked, as her fingers combed through his hair, moving it back from his face, as she ladled the spring water upon his battered face.
He sat in silence for minutes, dreamily pondering multiple layers of answers that floated in his consciousness. “I’m such a human now,” he said in time. “I live in their houses, walk their streets, speak their language, all as if it’s who I’ve always been,” he answered as he closed his eyes and felt the gentle stroke of her fingers.
“Who am I Alicia? I don’t know any more.
“Maybe none of us are who I thought we were,” he mused. “I thought Lucretia was someone who was looking for bright adventure and new experiences, but now she’s such a poor, harmed and hardened shell.
“I thought you were someone who I could trust to be absolutely loyal to Silvan,” he said, and felt her fingers leave his head. “But the world changes us – you’ve changed, Lucretia’s changed, I’ve changed so much.
“I’m fighting battles for humans against humans now,” he mused. “I’ve become one of them to such a degree.
“I defied their prince,” he finally began to explain, his rambling monologue having cleared his thoughts. “I won a tournament, but defied the prince’s request to spend the award money on a temple to the new gods from Uniontown. I said I’d give the money to the temple of the old goddess instead, and tell them to buy up slave elves and set them free.
“A fight started, and I killed five men. The ambassador from Uniontown found out I was the champion from Estone. The next morning they arrested me, and they thought I was part of a plot to overthrow the prince, so they tortured me to make me betray the other rebels. And I didn’t, because I couldn’t, so they kept doing things to me all night long.”
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 02 - The Yellow Palace Page 17
