The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows

by Jeffrey Quyle

“No,” Kestrel started to answer, “we train them when they’re young.”

  “It sounds cruel,” the Parstole responded, and the conversation drifted away to other topics. Kestrel decided to simply take a part of the load from each of the small travelers’ packs and carry it himself as the simplest way to resolve the issue.

  The city was full of buildings that were set close to one another, and delightful in the variety of their appearances. Stone was the most common building material, and there were a wide variety of stone colors used, blues, pinks, browns, as well as dark grey, and soft white, creating a pleasing panoply of diverse styles. Yet a fair portion of the buildings appeared to be vacant, as many as a third in some areas, and there were spots where the city still held only piles of rubble.

  “That was the farmers’ temple,” Gainue told Kestrel as he observed Kestrel’s scrutiny of one pile.

  “You had a temple to farmers in the city?” Kestrel asked in confusion.

  “No, there was a temple for the farmers to use when they were in the city. The Viathins destroyed it when they arrived; they didn’t like farmers, because the farmers used the resources of the land, the soil and energy and sunlight; the Viathins wanted it all for themselves,” Gainue explained.

  “Why did the farmers have their own temple?” Kestrel asked.

  “They had their own goddess. We had three gods – one for the city, one for the farmers, and one for the wilderness,” Gainue told him. “The Viathins destroyed all the temples and killed all the priests and followers they could find for the farmers’ goddess, and her spirit is with us no more. The wilderness god still lives – a little bit – in some country places. Only the city god survived the invasion.

  “The city god is the one who helped our people figure out how to defeat the Viathins. Decimindion is the only god left who can help us.”

  Kestrel walked on in silence, pondering the story. The notion of a goddess being killed horrified him, especially because he knew that the Viathins in his own land were attempting to destroy the goddess who was his own patron, Kai. It was another reason to hurry back with a solution to the problem, another rescue he could hope to achieve.

  They spent the night in the city, then continued the journey the next day, walking through the countryside for more than two weeks before they reached a grand city, McKorman, the greatest city and capital of the Parstole land, and the home of the sacred temple and grove where the city god of the Parstoles resided.

  On the evening of their arrival the group was ushered into a luxurious palace of enormous dimensions, but they were hurried through the building to a vast courtyard in the center, where a grove of ancient trees grew. The trees were tall, but more notably, they possessed widespread limbs that gave each tree the expanse of a city block, and their interwoven branches covered a tremendous space with the shade of their leafy boughs.

  “The great god has commanded that you be present at sunset,” said Tarkas, the leader of the guards who had accompanied them across the great distance they had traveled.

  “We’re happy to oblige Decimindion,” Kestrel had answered.

  “Only you, not everyone,” Tarkas had replied. “The great lord specified that he wanted to meet with you, the great pale child of the distant gods.”

  Kestrel was startled by the command, and said a brief farewell to his companions, translating for them all when he was led in one direction as they all were led in another. “I’ll hope to see you all again this evening. Rest and relax your tired legs after our long journey, and remember all the extraordinary sights we’ve seen in this land,” he reassured them.

  Minutes later, as the sunlight turned red and its rays slanted at a steep angle into the center of the sacred grove, Kestrel stood alone on a small platform of polished stone, and wondered what was about to happen.

  “Have a seat, Lord Kestrel,” a man’s figure was suddenly standing beside him, and two stools were also present.

  Kestrel waited until the bearded god was seated; he felt again the sense of power and inhuman wisdom he had experienced the first time Decimindion’s spirit had appeared. Kestrel had not seen a Parstole with a beard anywhere in his experience. The beard and mustache were both neatly trimmed, and together with the small horns and the sharp nose, created an appearance of sophistication and urbanity that seemed appropriate for a city god. The goatee was grayish white, emphasizing a weariness in the appearance of the Parstole god.

  “I want to thank you for the great gift you have brought my people,” Decimindion told Kestrel.

  “I mean the captives you have returned to us from the other land. You have made our people think that perhaps we should be more than just satisfied that we have exiled the Viathins from our land; perhaps we should seek to go to the distant land and liberate our kin who are held in bondage there.

  “Your friend Gainue is from the Platte tribe. They were farmers in the days before we suffered the calamity of the Viathin invasion. We now have few farmers to help feed our people, so if we can go and bring home many more Platte farmers, we will not only help them, but we will be able to help our own people continue to recover from the devastation of the Viathins,” Decimindion said, but in his words Kestrel was convinced that he detected something unsaid.

  “You have come here seeking the way we used to defeat the Viathins,” the god stated.

  “Yes, my lord,” Kestrel replied. “For the sake of my own land that they are moving into, and to help the world they still occupy now.”

  “Take these,” there was suddenly a side table standing between their two stools, with two water skins resting on it.

  Kestrel gingerly picked up the skins. “How can I use these to destroy the invaders?”

  “Actually, these don’t destroy them. A sip from one of these skins will vaccinate a person so that they do not fall under the influence of the Viathins’ control. Those people will be forever free from Viathin slavery,” Decimindion explained. “But,” he held up a hand to forestall Kestrel’s imminent interruption, “there are two things you must know. One is that for this water of life to work, you must first mix a single drop of blood from a female of royal blood of that land. We used a drop of blood from the queen of one of our nations,” the god told Kestrel.

  “And you should know that once you have made the water of life active, this skin will never become completely empty; ten men could each take a sip in one place, and then a hundred more could sip from it at another place, and a dozen more at another place, and still when you went to the next place, it would be full again,” the god told Kestrel.

  Kestrel sat silently, pondering the monumental task of going around to every person he could find to force them to drink from the water skin. It was a daunting prospect.

  “You will find a way, and you will solve your other problem as well,” Decimindion told him, seeming to read his thoughts. “You are resourceful, and you are touched by your gods. Go now; return to the land you came from, and help to set in motion the freedom of my people there. I hope that all your journeys are safe, and I hope you find what your own heart seeks.”

  Kestrel stood, then bowed deeply as he recognized that he was being dismissed by the deity.

  “My lord,” he asked hesitantly, struck by something that seemed inconceivable, “you seem unhappy in some way. What can I do to help you?”

  “Ah, strange guest from a strange land, you are a perceptive one. I would not ever want you to tell my own people, but I do carry a heavy burden. We have lost a goddess, totally and completely, and I am unable to grasp the death of a deity. And our other fellow god is weakened and unable to re-emerge at present,” Decimindion astonished Kestrel by revealing his thoughts. “It is a heavy burden to try to act now as the god who serves all the people of this land – I cannot let them live without a divinity they may worship and call upon and seek solace from, but it is more than I have ever done before.

  “In part, that is why I welcome your efforts,” Decimindion stood as well. “Your activity to b
ring so many captives home will answer many prayers among my expanded family of followers, and bring joy and hope to several. I thank you in advance for helping me to fulfill a small part of my duties.”

  And with that, the god and the chairs and the table were gone, leaving Kestrel standing alone in the grove, with the two water skins in his hands, and his contemplative thoughts about a weary, overworked god.

  Chapter 11—An Answer to the Viathins

  More than three weeks after his meeting with the god Decimindion, Kestrel and his group of travelers were within a day’s march of the gully that led to the portal they would use to return to Albanu. The trip back to the portal had been uneventful, and the group had been smaller, without the company of many of the Parstoles who had left to return to their homes and families. Gainue had faithfully stayed with Kestrel, and served as the guide for the trip that would allow the others to begin to fight the Viathins in the other lands they infested.

  “We will send a force of our soldiers through the portal when we are ready, and hope to provide assistance to our brothers who are ready to return,” Gainue had assured Allgain through Kestrel’s interpretive services.

  After heartfelt thanks, Gainue had watched Kestrel lead the other ten members of his group – one gnome, one Albanun and eight sprites and imps – into the portal cave. They were well supplied with food, and Kestrel had received a new bow and arrow, weapons that gave him great confidence and comfort. He could rapidly fight against multiple targets with a bow he knew, at a faster clip than he would be able to with the fabulous knife on his hip – the knife was far more deadly for a single target, but slower to be available to hit the second and subsequent targets he might need to hit.

  Kestrel spent much of the last day ruminating on his conversations with Allgain, and the astonishing revelations the small person had made during their return journey. Kestrel had discussed the water skin that Decimindion had given him for use in Allgain’s land, and the requirement that a drop of female royal blood would have to be added to the contents of the skin to make it work.

  “There are no known female royal family members left,” Allgain had said tearfully. “We’ll never be able to use the solution.”

  “Are you sure?” Kestrel asked incredulously. “Can we find the royal family and ask them if there’s a female member somewhere? “

  “In our land there were two kingdoms – one in the north and one in the south. The journey we made together was in the territory that was formerly the northern kingdom. That kingdom suffered the invasion by the Viathins first, and their royal family tried to lead their people to fight the invasion. We heard that they were all wiped out eventually. Perhaps one daughter lived – that was a rumor,” Allgain said. “But there’s been no word of the daughter for many, many years. The survivors of the north and the south have long cooperated to try to stay alive in the hills and the mountains and the wilderness where we live, and there’s been no mention of a member of the royal family.”

  “What about in the south?” Kestrel asked. “Did any royal females survive in the south lands?”

  “There is only one survivor of the royal line in the south,” Allgain said mournfully, “not a female.”

  “Could we go down there to check, to be sure?” Kestrel had asked.

  “I am sure, Kestrel. I am that survivor, the one survivor – a sickly, dwarf son of the prince who was separated from my family when they were caught and executed by the Parstoles under the Viathins many years ago; I was always too puny and weak to be a real leader of our people. I have been kept alive and relatively safe by moving around with the remnants of the royal house guard, but we were ambushed and I was captured just a few days before you met me in the village prison,” Allgain unburdened his secret upon Kestrel, revealing his own hidden identity and his self-doubt over his suitability to be a true leader.

  Kestrel sat back in surprise, stunned by the revelation about Allgain, and concerned by the absolute certainty the Albanese prince conveyed regarding the use of the Parstole god’s potion to free Albanu of the Viathin’s control.

  “Kestrel dear,” Dewberry tugged on his shirt, and he turned to see that she and Reasion had sat behind him and listened to the conversation, even though it had been in a language Dewberry did not understand; Reasion should not have understood the Albanese language either, yet over the course of their travels the silent sprite had seemed to not only understand Allgain’s words, but had been a close companion to the small dark creature.

  “Dear friend Kestrel,” Dewberry repeated, “Reasion tells me that there is a place in Allgain’s land where you will find what you are looking for. It is a place where there is much steam and fog and rocks that burn and glow.”

  Kestrel looked at Reasion, who nodded her head vigorously. “Is Reasion certain about this?” Kestrel asked as his eyes shifted from one sprite to the other.

  “Reasion is certain,” Dewberry affirmed with a vigorous nod of her head. “Reasion is different from all of us, but there is something that makes me believe certain things when Reasion says them, like when Reasion told me after the first time we met that I would someday call you my best friend in the world. She made me go chasing after you; that’s why I put those arrows in your quiver in the land of the elves.”

  Kestrel smiled fondly at the memory of the improbable series of events he recollected, from an elven celebration.

  “Reasion,” he spoke directly to the blue sprite, who turned her head inquisitively as she waited for his question. “This is one of those things that you know for certain?” he asked.

  Her head bobbed up and down several times.

  “Allgain,” Kestrel turned back to address the Albanu native. “Is there a place where there is steam and fog and burning rocks?”

  “There is such a place; it’s called the ‘fire pit of the gods’. It is a sacred place, where we were not allowed to go when our gods were alive and with us,” Allgain replied.

  “Reasion says that if we go there we will find what we are looking for. Could you lead us there?” Kestrel asked.

  Allgain looked over Kestrel’s shoulder at Reasion. “That blue one is unusual, I grant you. But how would it possibly know this, and why say something that is impossible?” Allgain asked Kestrel as he stared at Reasion. “Yet to know of the fire pit is remarkable too, and the blue one has been kind and comforting.

  “The Parstoles and Viathins do not go near the fire pit, so we should have a safe journey there. We will certainly run into others of my race if we go there,” Allgain said to Kestrel. “But I still don’t understand how we will find a royal female that does not exist.”

  “We’ll just have to have faith,” Kestrel said philosophically.

  Chapter 12 – Reasion’s Transformation

  Returning to Allgain’s world was simple. Moving beyond the portal entrance was difficult.

  “There’s at least a squad of Parstoles out there,” Tableg had confirmed to Kestrel, after the first barrage of spears had been thrown at the group when they emerged from the cave entrance. Horrifically, one spear had killed an imp, Jade, who had been a member of the rescue mission to save Dewberry and Jonson. Jade had been unusually quiet for an imp in Kestrel’s experience, but had been a reliable and faithful member of the squad, and Kestrel mourned the needless death as much as the others did.

  “We’ll wait until nightfall, and then I’ll try to scout out the disposition of their forces,” Kestrel had decided with Tableg. Only the two of them were large enough to suitably battle the larger Parstoles and Viathins, and they sat together during the remainder of the day speculating on ways they might be able to win their freedom from the cave.

  After darkness fell, when Kestrel’s superior elven vision gave him an advantage, he managed to sneak out of the cave and climb up on the rocks above the entrance, where he sat silently for several moments. He was glad to be free of the confinement of the cave. Just having the ability to see the stars and wide open spaces made him feel better, less
trapped by the stony walls.

  He looked down the mountainside, to where he found three Parstole sentinels watching the cave, and a camp established on a rocky outcropping not far removed from the sentinels. There were several figures sleeping on the ground, and a large tent in the rear of the camp. That presumably was where the Viathins were located. He could attempt to sneak down and around behind the camp, then come back up and attack the Viathins from behind. If he wiped out the Viathin leadership, the Parstoles would then be freed, and could be sent through the portal back to their own land, without battle.

  But surely the Viathins had figured out that he knew their susceptibility to attack as a way to set the Parstoles free, he reasoned. There were bound to be Parstoles here that were bound to the control of Viathins safely removed from the battlefield; he might kill these Viathins and still not reduce the hostility of the Parstoles that guarded the portal.

  After long thought, Kestrel concluded that his group would have better luck if they simply snuck out of the cave in the darkness, and fled to safety beyond the Parstoles. He left his perch and reconnoitered a tenuous path among the slippery frozen stones of the mountainside, then returned to the cave and discussed the option with Tableg.

  Together, the two large members of the group led single members of the sprites and Allgain in a circuitous route around the Parstole encampment, and just before dawn Kestrel brought Jonson down as the last member of the group.

  “Kestrel dear, I will be so happy to return to our own land, where we will be able to transport ourselves once again. I miss being able to go about in the way of our people, from place to place as we wish. When we return, I know my cousins at the court will laugh at how large and muscular my legs have become,” Dewberry told the weary Kestrel when they were all together. “Will you come to court and cut off their heads if they laugh?” she asked petulantly.

  “First, we have to get you back to our land,” Kestrel told her as he sat down to rest. “Then, I would have to decide whether I should go to court or not; I’ve never been to the sprite court, and I owe Jonson’s father a formal visit to his court first, now that I am the lord of the lands that neighbor his. Can you advise me on what I should wear?”