The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 02 - The Yellow Palace

by Jeffrey Quyle

  The man looked up at him with an expression of pure hatred, but said nothing, and Kestrel left him to walk over to Thunder, who had grown calmer since the death of the lizards and the retreat of the remaining handler, who had fled from Kestrel’s approach. He stroked the horse’s neck and spoke soothingly for a moment, then took up the animal’s lead and began to walk away from the horrific scene. He and Thunder jogged through an opening in the hedge on one side and went directly down into the brook instead of returning to the road in front of the house, then followed the watercourse away from the pond and the people and the horror and the fence around the estate.

  After a distance that Kestrel thought was safe to avoid trackers, they climbed back up on to the ground above the brook and returned to the road, then followed it back to the gate to the base and returned to the building where Kestrel had been keeping his horse. He soothed Thunder again as he tied the horse in place, and looked at the wrecked saddle on the floor nearby; he could repair the cinch with a needle and thread and patience, he knew, but it would take time to fix the tough slashed material before the saddle would stay firmly in place.

  He realized that because of the time that had passed he was going to be late for the palace, if he chose to go at all. Kestrel suspected that the man he had fought – the one who had tried to feed his horse to the monster lizards – must be the new member of the king’s court, the one Strab had told him kept monsters and was close to Princess Elwean. That man was sure to be at the palace reception; that man was sure to know that there was only one person who had a horse in Center Trunk. His name escaped Kestrel at first, but he finally recalled the name Strab had mentioned, Sir Chandel.

  Yet Kestrel felt a sense of reckless abandon as well as a dose of prudent caution. Although it might lead to dire consequences, he felt ready to provoke a confrontation with Chandel to try to reveal how despicable anyone who followed the ways of Uniontown could be, and he still needed to go to the palace if he wanted to find out where Alicia was kept, to determine her situation for himself, and to determine his options for rescuing her.

  He went through his bag of supplies and found a cleaner – though badly wrinkled – shirt wadded up, and he changed into that; then he put his yeti skin vest over the top of it. He cleaned off the blade of his knife so that it didn’t remain stained with the blood of the animals it had killed earlier in the afternoon. He debated whether to carry his sword, a human weapon in the eyes of all elves, and decided that the fighting ability it provided was too useful to ignore, and he strapped the belt on, his sword on his right hand, with his knife moved to the left side. It wasn’t going to be a reception in his eyes – it was going to be an invasion of hostile territory. And he suspected there were others who viewed the event with a similar sense of hostility aimed at him, creating circumstances that would be fraught with danger.

  The walk to the palace took Kestrel quite a while, and rain began to fall as he walked, so that he arrived at the palace gate near sunset in a thoroughly drenched condition.

  “I’m here for the reception,” he told the guard at the palace gate as the rain came to an end. “My name is Kestrel,” he added as he glanced at an expensive sedan chair that appeared to carry high nobility to the palace as it was casually waved through past him.

  “Your name’s on the list; proceed to the entrance on the east side,” the guard said with a second look at Kestrel’s disheveled appearance. “You’ll have to disarm at the entrance,” he added.

  Kestrel took the need to disarm under advisement, and hid his knife inside his shirt. He hoped he could retain the staff, which most elves would not think of as a weapon. That meant he could give away the sword peacefully and still have the means to battle any potential foes he would face. It was sad, remarkably sad, he realized, that he was preparing for action in the palace in the heart of the Elven Kingdom, the place he had always expected to be safe. Any battle against Uniontown that might take place here would be a stunning indication of how long the malevolent reach of the new gods had grown.

  At the door Kestrel stood at the end of a short line of other late arrivals. There was a bright flash, and Kestrel looked up in surprise, unaware that a storm cloud had moved overhead, releasing a bolt of lightening that illuminated the palace grounds. A few large drops of rain fell, then ceased as Kestrel stepped forward, then began to fall again. He pressed ahead to reach the protection of the overhanging roof above the palace door, and stepped through the portal seconds later.

  “You’ll need to leave your weapon here,” one of the guards indicated the sword as he addressed Kestrel, ignoring the staff, just as Kestrel had hoped. He graciously handed the blade over to the guard.

  “Before I go to the reception I’d like to visit someone back at the kitchen,” he told the guard in a confidential voice. “Which way is that?”

  “Follow this hallway along the outside wall for thirty yards, then cut to your right, and follow your nose,” the guard said. “And give her a pinch for me,” he added with a wink.

  “I will,” Kestrel promised with a grin, as he turned and jauntily walked down the corridor, then turned right and headed down the hallway that was filled with an aromatic indication of the closeness of the kitchens as they prepared all the delicacies needed to feed a royal reception. He looked for a green door, but found none along the hallway he had travelled to reach the door that was the entrance to the kitchen chamber.

  A peek through the door showed a blizzard of activity, as cooks and assistants and servers bumped and exchanged and cursed with one another in their frantic effort behind the scenes to deliver satisfactory service outside the kitchen, in whatever glamorous room was filled with nobles and influential hangers-on. Kestrel saw a door on the far side of the kitchen that he thought might lead to the hallway that gave access to the prison cells, and he began the danger-fraught journey among the workers as he maneuvered to the far door, successfully, he felt, when he was only cursed twice, and didn’t knock over or impede any trays of food or drink. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the other side of the kitchen, away from the stoves and the heat, and was able to push the new door open as he left the kitchen behind.

  Within three steps he saw that the green door loomed directly ahead, on the left side of the hall. Lucretia had described it as large, but in fact it was huge, wide enough for three men to enter it side-byside. It appeared thick and durable, made to withstand an assault, Kestrel judged. There was a bar leaning against the wall, and brackets on the door, the frame, and the surrounding wall, showing preparation made to prevent escapees from exiting from the levels below if needed.

  He cautiously opened the door, and saw no guards in sight at the bottom of the stairs beyond. Inside were brackets that would seal the door from that side as well, and he suddenly had an idea. He reached out into the hall and grabbed the heavy bar, then put his staff down and quietly grabbed with his other hand as well when he found how surprisingly heavy the security bar was. He pulled the door shut, dropped the bar in place, then closed his eyes. “Dewberry, Dewberry, Dewberry,” he whispered, then waited for expectant, hopeful seconds. There was no response from the sprite princess. “Reasion, Reasion, Reasion,” he whispered next, calling the devoted, mute sprite who also watched out for him.

  Within seconds Reasion appeared. “I’m glad to see you,” Kestrel told the sprite, and impulsively reached out and grasped Reasion, pulling the small blue body into a hug that seemed to surprise and then touch the sprite. Reasion reached out a petite hand and stroked Kestrel’s cheek fondly as he released his grasp.

  “Are you able to help me move about?” Kestrel asked in a whisper. Reasion nodded and smiled.

  “Can you help me move, and help move Alicia too?” he asked. The sprite nodded again.

  “Thank you. I’ll call you again when I’m ready to go. We’re doing this to help Alicia; some bad elves are mistreating her. You remember Alicia? She’s the doctor who looked after you when you were hurt up at Estone?

 
“Oh, that’s right,” Kestrel apologized in response to the exasperated look Reasion gave him. “I forgot that you’ve visited her since then – of course you know her.”

  Reasion nodded agreement, and then disappeared. With the sprite’s departure, Kestrel undressed himself, then took a sip from the nearly empty vial of the fluid Kere had given him. Once invisible, he picked up his staff and knife, and proceeded down the stairs. At the dim intersection of corridors he turned right, and as Lucretia had told him, he saw two guards. They were paying no attention, and it wasn’t until the staff and knife that were seemingly floating in the air were only a few feet away from them that they noticed, and stared in dumbfounded astonishment as the staff suddenly rose and whirled swiftly, then struck each of them in the head, knocking them unconscious.

  Beyond the unconscious guards was a door in the stone wall, and Kestrel held his staff low to the ground as he stealthily passed through the door and began his descent, causing him to sink further beneath the palace. His staff appeared to be deliberately sliding down each of the steps, and the guards below watched its curious, slow descent towards them without concern. The guards came into Kestrel’s view from the ground up – first their feet, then their legs and torso, and finally their heads came into his field of vision as he reached the bottom of the steps, crouching down to maintain a grip on his staff as he carried out the illusion that the staff was moving on its own, as though it were a long, stiff snake.

  He slowly rotated the staff as it reached the floor. When the two guards both bent over to look at the actions of the inexplicable object, he raised it with a mighty thrust, cold-cocking both of them under the chin and knocking then unconscious as well. He left them slumped on the cool stone floor, and moved on.

  Kestrel knew he had only one set of guards left to evade, then he’d have access to the watchman and the cell where Alicia was held.

  He turned left and saw a long, empty hall ahead of him, with a dark door visible at the end. There should have been a pair of guards standing watch there, according to Lucretia’s description of the prison, but the hallway was completely empty ahead. He pattered softly down the hallway to its end, then reached for the door, and saw that it was slightly ajar. There was a faint rumble of voices beyond, and Kestrel used his staff to cautiously push the door further open, then poked his head around the opening and looked at what was beyond.

  He saw Alicia, her features prominent in the wavering light of a torch that was held above her; she was as intriguingly beautiful as ever, despite the fear that was silently etched around her eyes. She was held by two guards, as a third man stood in front of her, his back to Kestrel, who immediately slipped through the door’s opening and approached the tableau that was thirty feet away.

  “Tomorrow is your last day to live, and tonight is your last night,” the guard facing Alicia said. “It seems like a shame to waste your last hours sitting alone in that cell when we know you know how to please…”

  The man’s words ended abruptly with a sudden sigh, and the two guards holding Alicia turned their heads and looked at their partner expectantly for several seconds, waiting to hear the end of the threatening sentence, when the lustful looks on their faces changed to confusion as the man fell to the ground, and they saw a long, slender knife sticking out of his back. A staff suddenly swung through the empty air of the room and violently butted one of the guards in the stomach, making him release Alicia as he bent over in pain.

  The remaining guard, confused and frightened, let loose of Alicia and began to draw his sword, when the staff clattered to the floor on his right. The guard turned to follow its movement, when he suddenly felt a choking grasp around his neck. He dropped his sword and reached for his throat, but couldn’t pry the invisible clinch off before he too passed out and Alicia stood alone, frozen in place, fearful of the bodies that inexplicably dropped around her.

  “Alicia,” a voice whispered from just in front of her.

  “Who is it? What are you?” she asked the voice.

  “Are there others in the cells? Can anyone else hear us?” the voice asked.

  “Yes, there are several, many locked up here,” she answered.

  “I’m going to whisper in your ear. Don’t be surprised or scared, and don’t repeat anything,” the voice told her.

  “It’s me, Alicia, Kestrel. I’m invisible for a little while,” he told her quietly.

  “Kes!” her shout of recognition was cut off as an invisible hand clamped over her mouth.

  “Don’t repeat my voice. I have to go back up into the palace, and I don’t want anyone to know I was here,” Kestrel whispered to her. He waited a moment then released his hand from her face.

  “Sorry,” she said contritely. “How are you invisible?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I’ll tell you later. Right now I want you to help me. Pick up the feet of the guards and let’s carry them all into your empty cell one at a time,” he said. Together they carried the guards into the cells. “Now, there are more guards upstairs we need to lock up as well,” Kestrel whispered softly.

  Several minutes later they slammed the cell door shut, all the guards unconscious within.

  “What are these other prisoners like? Are they good men or bad?” Kestrel asked Alicia softly.

  “I think they’re people like me; folks who the members of the court dislike or fear, though I don’t know exactly why,” she answered.

  “Alicia, I am going to leave in a few minutes. I can turn these men loose in the palace, but I won’t be able to help them leave. Should I do that?” he asked.

  “If they stay here, they’ll certainly die,” she answered. “What about us? Are we going to leave the palace?”

  “I’m going to ask the sprites to take you back to your old room. Will you be safe there for a few hours?” he asked.

  “I imagine so. I doubt that anyone else would move into the space, since I had such bad luck there,” she said as she considered his question. “What will you do? Will you come meet me?”

  “I’m going to lock the door to the prison from the inside. The sprites will take me out, and I’ll stay here to attend a reception in the palace. After a little while, when I’m sure they know the dungeon is locked from the inside and I have witnesses who see me not involved, I’ll come meet you,” Kestrel answered.

  “So they won’t suspect you of helping me? Kestrel, you’ve truly turned into a spy, haven’t you?” Alicia smiled warmly at the invisible person who had come to rescue her. Her hands reached out and groped until they found his face, then she slid her hands down and enveloped his invisible body in a hungry, desperate hug, relieved to have both hope and a friend for the first time since entering the palace.

  “What will we do when we’re out of here?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know. We’ll take that next. Let’s set the men free and hurry, before I become visible again,” Kestrel urged her.

  Minutes later the bar at the door by the kitchen slid free, and two dozen men and women stumbled out into the hall, and began to rapidly disperse. Most were certain that they would be able to find their ways to gates in the rain and the dark and exit safely from the palace grounds, for the guards seldom bothered to check those who left the palace.

  The bar slid back in place, and as it did, Kestrel’s hour of invisibility ended. Alicia gave a shriek at the sight of the body that was suddenly present where only empty air had appeared before. Kestrel sat down on the top step and began to pull his clothes on rapidly, picking them off the pile he had left when his adventure began. “Reasion, Reasion, Reasion,” he called as he stood to pull his pants up, and the sprite appeared, two other blue bodies also present.

  “Thank you for returning, my friend,” Kestrel said. “Alicia is ready to go back to the room where you usually find her. If everything there is safe for her, leave her there, then come back here to me. I would like for you to take me to the other side of this door,” he patted the heavy slab of wood.

  Moments
later the sprites were clustered around Alicia. “Thank you Kestrel. Thank you for saving me. I’ll talk to you soon, but be careful until then – the palace is a dangerous place now, and it turns out that the dangers we used to think were so far away actually lurk inside elven skins,” she warned, and then she was gone.

  There was a sudden faint glow in the stairwell, and Kestrel turned and looked up at the doorway. The goddess Kai stood above him, a faint light emanating from her form. She looked older to Kestrel in some fashion that he was sure was impossible among gods – worn, perhaps weaker and even displaying a sense of frailty.

  “My goddess,” he bowed his head. “How can I serve you?”

  “You have served well already Kestrel. You have done more than anyone else to establish an ongoing battle against these forces of the southern gods. They are destroying our temples, converting or slaughtering our worshippers and killing our priests and priestesses, and doing all they can to weaken us and banish us from the world. And now they are doing the same here in your land, trying to weaken our friends and rivals, the deities of your elven friends,” the goddess said.

  “You are the hope of the old order, Kestrel. Good luck in your efforts, and know that we will bring such assistance to bear as our diminishing powers allow,” the goddess spoke, and then disappeared.

  Kestrel was stunned by the confidential talk the goddess had provided. The message of the need to act was clear; yet the potential to achieve positive, lasting conditions through his actions was not clear at all.

  The trio of sprites appeared suddenly. “Sprite-friend Kestrel, your lady is safe and happy in the place we took her,” one of the speaking sprites told him. “Reasion says we’re ready to move you now.”

  “Would you go look to make sure no one else is on the other side of the door,so that we’re not seen?” Kestrel asked, prompting one of the sprites to disappear and reappear in the blink of an eye, and then Kestrel found himself relocated outside the green door, a translocation that happened so quickly he didn’t even feel the usual physical turbulence that moving about with the sprites typically evoked.