The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows

by Jeffrey Quyle

  The escort for Kestrel’s group reached the valley of the portal at midday, and converted the Parstole guards there. They climbed the hill, and stood together at the entrance to the cave, when they held an emotional farewell, and made many pledges to see one another again at some future date when their troubles were finished.

  “What will we do when we’re back in our world, friend Kestrel?” Jonson asked as they started through the cave. “What is our first step?”

  Kestrel had considered that question since they had left the valley of mists and fires.

  “Your people do not need protection from the powers of the Viathins, the lizard monsters,” he said. “It is the humans and the elves, and perhaps even the gnomes that can fall under the power of the Viathins in our land. Therefore, I ask that you let me take this water, and find a queen or princess whose blood will consecrate the water we have carried back home. I will use the water to set all our people free, while you will be unimpeded as you hunt for the monster lizards and kill them, and know that they will have fewer and fewer servants and slaves to help them.”

  He thought of where he wanted to be – in Graylee, among his friends, with Margo most of all. He thought of where he knew he would eventually have to be, according to Kere – with the half-elven girl Moorin, the real Moorin. And finally he thought about where it would be most practical to go – to Hydrotaz, where he knew a royal princess, one who would help him with a drop of her blood, and one who needed his help to rid her nation of the influence of the Viathins. And he thought of his own elven kingdom, where he could rid the palace and the nation of the influence of the Viathins, and help remove another potential threat to the imps of the Morass as well.

  “When we get through the portal, do you know if you will be able to transport yourselves from place to place?” Kestrel asked.

  “We do not know what date it is – whether it is winter or not-winter,” Jonson answered. “We have been gone so long we cannot keep track of the calendar.”

  “That’s fair enough,” Kestrel agreed. “It was early winter when I arrived in these other lands, and many days have passed, but I don’t know if enough have passed for spring to have begun.

  “If it is spring time, and if you can transport yourselves, then I would ask that you take me to Graylee City, where many sprites have met me before. From there I can accomplish much, and call upon you if I need your assistance,” Kestrel told Jonson. He would have been better served by a trip directly to Yulia’s castle in Hydrotaz, but he had never been there, nor had the sprites taken him there to know the way. From Graylee, he reasoned that he could quickly check on Philip, then ride a horse to Hydrotaz, and begin the immediate portion of his mission there. He saw no opportunity to divert his journey to the north, to where he presumed Margo was, in the manor at the foot of the mountains, but he vowed to himself that he would head there as soon as possible.

  They walked through the dark cave until they passed through the chamber where the worlds seemed to touch each other, and felt the transitional change. Soon they were back in the portion of the cave where Growelf and Corrant had discussed his use of the cavern, and Kestrel knew they were about to return to their own world at last, with a means to battle the effects of the Viathins.

  The group of sprites and imps, along with Tableg and Kestrel, soon stood at the mouth of the cave, and looked out over a beautiful midday tableau. The sun was shining brightly over snow-capped mountains, and the breeze that blew was surprisingly gentle.

  The sprites looked at one another, then began to disappear and reappear, squealing with joy at their unfettered ability to transport once again. They spent several minutes in joyous exercise of their newly-restored ability, visiting palaces and homes and friends and then returning with excited squeals of pleasure. “Kestrel-beloved! All is right with the world!” Dewberry said as she hopped on Kestrel’s back and squeezed her arms around his chest. “We are home! You can go back to your life of leading human and elven beauties astray while you pine for my love! All will be as it was before!”

  Kestrel laughed at the buoyant spirits of his blue friends. He looked up at the yellow sun, and praised the gods for the colors he could see once again, no longer drowned out by the dire red hue of Allgain’s land.

  But not everything was as it had been before, Kestrel now knew. He had knowledge of things that were better and worse. He now knew much more than he had known before about the monster lizards; he knew who they were and what their motives were. He had a means to fight the influence of the Viathins, and he knew what he would have to do to carry out that mission. But he also now knew of the fragility of the gods; he had been in lands where goddesses had died, and where they had shrunk away to nearly nothingness, needing help to carry out their efforts. His own goddess among the human pantheon, Kai, was in a weakened state because she had sacrificed so much of her power to help him, and he now wanted desperately to return the favor and sacrifice whatever he needed to for her sake.

  “Are you ready to take me to the room in Graylee City where we’ve been before, where you delivered letters to me?” Kestrel asked Dewberry.

  “We will go there in an instant, and then we will return to our courts for the celebrations! We will sing your praises as the greatest sprite-imp-elf-human friend there ever was!” Dewberry said exuberantly.

  Kestrel turned to the silent gnome. “Tableg, if we leave you now, will you be able to safely find your way home?”

  “Do you even have to ask? A gnome in the mountains in the springtime?” Tableg said indignantly. “I’ll be back home and hailed as a mighty hero before you get home – or I’ll be called the greatest liar in the mountains, for who is going to believe the tales I try to spin?” he laughed at the notion. “I’ll use your name exceedingly, and ask the gnomes of Amethysaquina to confirm my stories about you.

  “Will you ever come into the mountains and provide proof of your existence to my village?” Tableg asked.

  “I hope that a summer will come when I will be able to come to your village, with the blessing of your god,” he added hastily, “and retell the stories of our grand adventures together!” The two of them thumped each other’s backs, then Kestrel watched as Tableg turned and began to descend the trail away from the cave entrance.

  “Alright, my blue friends. Let’s make our last journey together today, and then begin to put the finishing touches on the beginning of the next part of this great mission of ours,” he said. He was immediately surrounded by a swarm of blue bodies, and then transported away from the Water Mountains.

  Chapter 13 – Back Among Humans

  Kestrel was in his old room in Creata and Picco’s town home, and a flock of sprites and imps were circling and floating around the room. “Kestrel dear! You’re here! Go break the hearts of those human girls, but do not forget that I am the one you are so madly in love with,” Dewberry practically sang to him. “Now we will be going home, home, home!” she chanted.

  “Friend-Kestrel, be careful, and call upon any of us at any time if you need help,” Jonson told him in a more somber tone. “We would come to you and do anything you ask, out of friendship, out of gratitude, and even out of our mutual interests in your success. Go with the blessings of your gods and be well.”

  The small blue figures seemed to hear some unspoken command. They lined themselves up in a floating line to present themselves to Kestrel one last time, then all bowed to him in unison, and disappeared from the room.

  And suddenly Kestrel was alone and on his own in his own world once again. It was a sobering feeling, tempered by the knowledge that he was in a familiar setting and the sprites were now going to be only a call away for the next several months.

  He had to find his way to Hydrotaz, where he suspected he would have to figure out the best way to serve water from a single waterskin to hundreds or thousands of people. But first he would find out if Philip was present in Graylee City, and hopefully learn something good about Margo, and Creata and Picco as well. He had not
seen any of his Graylee friends for at least five or six months, and he missed them all, with a yearning that was magnified by his return to his room in Creata’s house.

  Kestrel left the room and walked down the empty hallway, then downstairs, where he was shocked to discover that the house had been ransacked. The damage was evident, though cleaned up as best the staff was evidently able. There were holes in the walls, broken windows were boarded up, and the temperature was decidedly cool within.

  “Here now, who are you breaking into here?” a man’s voice called behind him, and Kestrel recognized one of the elderly butlers who had served Creata’s family while Kestrel had stayed in the home the previous summer.

  “It’s me, Kestrel,” he answered as he turned. “I mean no harm; I just returned to the city and came to try to find out where all my friends have gone.”

  “Master Kestrel?” Treybon, the servant, asked dubiously, the stared closely at him. “Well, I believe it is you, though there’s something different about you, not that I can put my finger on any one thing.

  “I’m mightily glad to see you here in good health. We’d heard that you had lit out for foreign parts, with no return known,” the butler said. “Are you back to stay? As lawless as the city has become, we’d welcome a battler like yourself to add some protection.”

  “Sorry my friend, but I’m only passing through town on my way to Hydrotaz. I wanted to stop in here to find out if any of our friends were in the city, so that I could visit,” Kestrel replied.

  “Master Creata is somewhere in the city, staying in hiding, but coming by from time to time to check on us and give us whatever he can,” Treybon told Kestrel. “He keeps hoping for something better to happen, and of course he wants to try to set Lord Philip free.”

  “Philip is being held captive?” Kestrel asked, feeling his chest tighten. “Where?”

  “He’s in the palace, being held in some dungeon there, so I’m told,” Treybon said sadly.

  “And Creata is in the city trying to help him? How can I find him?” Kestrel asked.

  “We do not know where he spends his time; he tells us we’re safer not knowing,” Treybon answered.

  “He’s probably right,” Kestrel agreed. “Well, tell me something happier. How are the girls, Margo and Picco? Do you have any news of them?”

  We understand they are well. Miss Picco had been staying up in the north with Miss Margo until a month ago, but she was called to the seaside estate to tend to her mother. I believe she should have arrived there by now,” Treybon said.

  “Thank you, Treybon,” Kestrel told him. “I’ll leave quietly through the back if you don’t mind, and try to learn more about what’s going on around the city. If you see Creata, tell him I’m here and ask him to arrange to meet me – soon,” Kestrel directed, and then he slunk out of the back of the house and through the alley to one of the main streets in the city.

  He slipped into the armory he had formerly used, and sought out Mills, the manager, who did not recognize him at first. The goddess’s ring is very effective, Kestrel thought to himself, as he began to explain who he was.

  “Kestrel? Of course! What was I thinking?” Mills had asked, then pumped Kestrel’s hand in a vigorous shake. “I don’t know why I didn’t recognize you.”

  May I leave some things here for a few hours, maybe a day or two?” Kestrel asked.

  “Of course, of course,” Mills said graciously. “You can go find a cubby downstairs in the basement; take your pick.”

  Kestrel was quickly in and out of the basement, then up the stairs and outdoors on the street again. He decided to rely on his unrecognizability, and openly walked out on the streets of the city, headed towards the palace. He walked briskly to stay warm; although it was spring time, the sky was cloudy and the breeze that blew through the city was slightly cool. When he reached the palace he circled around the entire perimeter of the walls, examining and relearning the layout of the exterior.

  There were several gates, all attended by men who were very heavily armed. And there was a section of the walls that had mature trees planted surprisingly close to them on both the exterior and interior walls. To an elf like Kestrel, they provided an inviting way to enter the palace – the trees practically screamed to be climbed and scrambled across. He chose to wait until nightfall, and then began his foray into the palace. He climbed up the tree on the outside of the palace, and rose to the highest substantial branch that would hold his weight. Kestrel then walked out along the branch and leapt off it, landing among the branches of the tree inside the palace grounds.

  He held still and listened, waiting to see if there was any reaction to his arboreal entry to the tightly-guarded grounds. After counting to ten and hearing nothing, Kestrel began to crawl into the heart of the tree, and descended down the trunk. Dodging among the shadows and the hedges on the grounds, Kestrel began to work his way towards the building where he had been held captive during his own painful internment in the palace prison cells.

  The palace grounds were poorly lit, and there was little traffic among the buildings, other than soldiers and guards. The palace was not a place of pageants and frivolity, not in the current state. Kestrel waited until he found a single soldier walking through a dark passage, and ambushed the man, then took his uniform and continued his journey across the palace grounds, dressed as a member of the palace guard.

  By lucky coincidence, he happened to arrive at the building that housed the prison cells just as a shift change was taking place. “Who are you?” one of the guards asked Kestrel as he opened a door and walked into the crowded room at the top of the stairs that led down to the prison.

  “I’m here to watch; I’ll be taking someone’s place next week,” Kestrel hastily said.

  “Whose place? Is it me? Am I being sent to the Hydrotaz campaign?” one guard asked.

  “They didn’t tell me; I’m just supposed to watch and learn for the next few days,” Kestrel said.

  “Why don’t they send you to the front instead of one of us?” another guard asked belligerently.

  Kestrel shrugged, and the shift commander took charge. “Everyone who belongs downstairs, go downstairs,” he spoke over the other voices, and Kestrel followed three guards down to the prison cells, down a set of stairs that seemed familiar.

  “How many prisoners are there?” Kestrel asked as they descended.

  “The cells are full, double-full,” one guard responded. “Probably about fifty prisoners down here – almost all the troublemakers that are still alive in the city.”

  They pulled open the door at the bottom of the stairs, and a whiff of stale air swept up towards them from the crowded confinement they were about to enter. Three guards quickly left their duty station as Kestrel and the three replacement guards took their place.

  As soon as the door closed and he heard the sound of the past shift going up the stairs, Kestrel swung his staff against the skull of the guard in front of him, then swung it on the back swing against the second guard within his reach.

  The third guard of the new shift turned at the sound of the attack behind him, and pulled his sword free upon seeing what was happening. He thrust his blade expertly at Kestrel, who blocked the saber with his staff, then spun around to the side of the guard and thrust his staff end into the man’s ribs, knocking him to the floor. Kestrel pressed the sharpened points of his staff against the guard’s throat. “Drop the sword,” Kestrel growled.

  The sword clattered to the floor. “Now, give me the keys to the cells,” Kestrel ordered.

  Kestrel removed the belt from one of the unconscious guards, and wrapped the leather strap around the conscious guard’s hands, then tied his feet together as well, before he began going to each prison cell door. “Is Philip in there?” he asked at each door.

  At the fifth door he received a positive response. “I’m here; Kestrel, is that you?” his friend answered, squinting in the dim light of the prison lantern.

  Kestrel hastily used the ke
ys to open the door, and Philip ran into his arms in an emotional hug with much back-slapping and tears of gratitude streaming down the former prisoner’s face.

  “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” Philip said. “Margo wrote that she had a dream, that Growelf himself came to her and showed her a vision. You were on a plain, surrounded by wolves, and then you walked through a doorway of fire, and went to a strange land with two suns.

  And after that dream, there wasn’t another word about you – it was like you’d truly disappeared from the face of the earth.”

  “It seemed like it to me at times as well,” Kestrel said with a crooked grin, inwardly acknowledging the literal truth of the phrase. “How is your sister?” He wondered why Growelf had sent such a vision to Margo.

  “She’s been doing better than me, up to now. She has her own local militia centered at the manor house, and they’ve fought off one attempt to invade my family’s lands,” Philip said with pride. “She’ll be so glad to know you’re alive and back fighting for us.”

  “I won’t be fighting here for long; I have to go to Hydrotaz and see Yulia,” Kestrel said. “I think we’ve found a way to fight the Uniontown forces; I’ll explain it all later.

  “What should we do about the other prisoners?” Kestrel asked.

  “They’re almost all supporters of the effort to overthrow the prince. Can we set them all free?” Philip asked.

  “Like we did last time?” Kestrel responded. “We can set them free; I don’t know if we can get a group of men this large out of the palace safely. And there’s one other thing I might want to do while we’re here,” he added.

  “Are there monster lizards here on the palace grounds? Do they keep them somewhere?” he asked.

  “The prince has built a special pond, one that he keeps inside a warm glass building, with heated water,” said another prisoner, one of those who had shared Philip’s cell and come out. “There are several of the lizards in there, and more at the ambassador’s place.”