The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Ah, that was an act of desperation,” the elven goddess finally said hesitantly after moments of study and consideration.

  “My sister has devoted a great deal to you, and it has weakened her for now, but she truly believes that you are the only hope she and all of us have to survive this plague,” Kere finally said.

  “Would it help her if I gave back some of the gifts she has given me? Would she be stronger if she took these forces back for herself – the knife and the ring and the staff? Kestrel asked the question that had gnawed at his heart the most. He dearly loved and used the artifacts that Kai had put at his command, but he didn’t want to see the goddess die.

  Kere looked closely at him, and he saw the concern on her face in the strange, shadowless light that she had created in the closet. “Your love for the goddess is touching, Kestrel. Kai feels your love, and that is almost as valuable for her as the return of your gifts would be.

  “There may come a time when it would be necessary for you to return Kai’s lent power back to her, but I cannot judge that. You just need to let her know that you will do that for her, and let her decide if that is what she wants,” Kere told him.

  “And make sure that you travel soon to the Swampy Morass and make peace with the imps. There have been no new monsters in the Eastern Forest because of the cold winter; that is a great part of why I still have some strength, because our community is not being undercut by the monsters. If you can work with the imps to better hunt down the Viathins that try to migrate up through the morass and your lands around Oaktown, Center Trunk and the Eastern Forest will be protected.

  “Your new companion approaches, so I must go now. Use this gift judiciously to help set both of you on the road to your destinies,” Kere said. She placed a hand atop his head in a benedictory gesture, then disappeared, just as the closet door opened.

  Moorin stood in the doorway, her features indistinct to Kestrel due to the glare of the light behind her. “You’re awake I see. I need to pick out a gown for dinner; this will be your best chance to come out of the closet before nightfall,” the half-elf maiden told Kestrel. “So hop up and trade places with me.”

  Kestrel rose and left the closet. As he passed Moorin he saw that she had cleaned and primped herself so that she looked even more lovely. She wore a sheer bathrobe over her undergarments, and Kestrel sniffed a delicate perfume as he went by her.

  “I’m going to leave tonight,” he told her as he started to pass. They were face to face in the doorway, and he saw her eyes move from examining the gowns to exploring his face.

  “You’re not ready yet,” she said.

  “I’ll be ready, and I’ll make it. And I’m going to take you with me,” Kestrel insisted.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” she dismissed him and moved into the closet. “My dinner guests will be here in fifteen minutes, and I need to be better prepared than I was for the prince this morning,” she told him.

  Kestrel limped to the bathroom, then returned as Moorin slid an elaborate gown over her head. “Please button the back for me,” she asked him, turning her back to him as she adjusted the fabric. He complied, then stepped towards the closet again. “The caterer is in the kitchen now, so keep quiet. I’ll save some food for your dinner later,” she told him, and then she left the room.

  He slumped back down into his corner of the closet to wait. Within a few minutes he heard a knocking on the door of the house, and he heard several voices as Moorin welcomed a group to her home. Kestrel closed his eyes and rested his chin on his chest as he listened to the faint sounds of the dinner party that took place elsewhere in the house.

  He began to doze as the time passed by, until he heard an unexpected noise. Somewhere nearby he heard the scraping of wood against wood, and then the sound of feet gently stepping onto the floor in Moorin’s room. Seconds later he heard a second set of feet, and then the sliding sound that he realized was her window being shut.

  “Ssh,” he heard one voice say. “We’re to hide in here and wait for her to come back after the dinner is over.”

  “It should be over soon, as long as they’ve been in there,” another voice, they were both men, Kestrel judged, replied. “Why does the ambassador want us to grab her this way? Why doesn’t he just take her himself after dinner?”

  “Because he’s a gentleman, and is above this sort of thing, whereas we’re just filthy commoners. He’s going to give her to the prince as a gift, to make the prince happy,” the first voice answered.

  “The prince already has her here; why doesn’t he just do what he wants with her?” came the next question.

  “They all want to publically say their hands are clean. That’s why they have men like us. Now you go hide in the closet and I’ll hide in the bathroom, and we’ll wait until she comes back for the night,” the one who seemed to be in charge spoke with some irritation.

  Kestrel immediately pulled himself into a more tightly bunched ball in the corner of the closet, and pulled his knife off of his hip, ready to use it at an instant’s notice. The closet door slid open, showing faint light, and a shadow passed in front of the doorway, then the door closed. Kestrel could tell that the man was standing only inches away from him; he could hear his seemingly noisy breathing, and he could smell the scent of smoke and sweat that rose from the kidnapper’s clothing.

  Kestrel held his breath as much as possible, and froze himself in place as the minutes passed. He heard noises coming through the wall behind him as guests started to leave, and conversations seemed to drag on, the spoken words indistinguishable. The kidnapper turned his body as though trying to listen, then the conversation ended, and there was silence once more. The man in the front of the closet moved again, turning to face the front again, Kestrel guessed.

  There was movement somewhere in the house and a few spoken words, then silence again for several long seconds. A light suddenly entered the bedroom, outlining the partially open door of the closet, and then the closet door started to open, catching both Kestrel and the kidnapper by surprise.

  “I’ve brought you some dinner,” Moorin said, then shrieked as the kidnapper in her closet jumped out at her, knocking the plate of food aside and grabbing her. Kestrel rose to his feet and stepped forward; he reached for the kidnapper and jerked him away from Moorin, just as the other kidnapper burst out of the bathroom.

  Kestrel held his knife to the throat of the man he held. “Moorin, get behind me,” he shouted.

  “You, stop right there or your partner dies, and then it’s your turn,” Kestrel warned the other assailant.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the man from the bathroom shouted in confusion. He was heavyset, and rough-looking, unshaven and poorly dressed.

  “Just listen to him, Lerry,” said the man Kestrel held.

  Moorin leaped away from the middle of the fracas and got behind Kestrel.

  “Now, pick up my staff,” Kestrel spoke to her over his shoulder.

  “What are you going to do now, Mr. Lucky?” asked the heavyset assailant. “There’re two of us here; you can’t win. Just give the woman to us, we’ll take her and be gone. No harm to anyone.”

  “Take her to the ambassador so that he can give her to the prince?” Kestrel asked.

  “That’s none of your concern,” the man said, pulling his sword loose.

  “Lerry, be careful,” Kestrel’s captive warned.

  “If you go out the window, I’ll let your friend follow you out,” Kestrel offered. “How does that sound Lerry? You can go your way and no one will say anything.”

  Lerry looked at Kestrel appraising the situation. “We’ll take that deal. I’ll open the window, while you bring Probst over here close,” he said as he edged to the window. He put his sword back in the sheath, then slowly opened the window, and climbed part way out.

  “I’m doing what you told me to; now release Probst and send him over here,” he told Kestrel.

  Kestrel shoved his hostage at the window, t
hen reached around and took his staff from Moorin, who had followed closely behind him.

  “Out, get out now,” he growled at the criminals.

  Probst seemed undecided, and Kestrel jabbed the spiked end of his staff, ripping welts along the man’s thigh.

  “I’m going!” the man shouted, then put a leg through the window. As soon as he was through, Kestrel stepped over and slammed the window shut.

  “Oh Kestrel! Thank you so much,” Moorin spoke again for the first time since Kestrel had jumped into action. “You knew just what to do and how to handle the situation.”

  “We’ve only got a few minutes before they’ll be back, either on their own or with other people,” Kestrel said. “Pack up a small pack as fast as you can – we’ve got to flee!”

  “Where will we go?” Moorin asked. “Won’t I be just as safe here as anywhere else?”

  “Did you hear what I told them? This is the ambassador of Uniontown plotting with the Prince of Graylee to kidnap you so that the prince can have you even more secretly than he already does. There’s nothing good in that plan,” Kestrel said in amazement. “Those are two of the most evil men you could ever be caught up with. I overheard the kidnappers discussing the plan, and I’ve dealt with the prince and the ambassador before.

  “Please, start packing,” he urged.

  Moorin went into the closet without further comment, then came out with a small portmanteau.

  “That’s too big. Do you have something smaller? We’re going to be traveling a long way,” Kestrel said.

  “Where are you taking me?” Moorin asked.

  “Just get packing, and I’ll tell you. We’ve got to hurry,” Kestrel insisted.

  “I’m going to take you back to the North Forest,” Kestrel told her, without revealing how roundabout the journey would be.

  Moorin disappeared into the closet, came out with a smaller bag and a sigh, then went to the bathroom. “You’ll really take me back home?” he heard the excitement in her voice.

  “I will, I promise,” Kestrel.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Moorin said, with a catch in her voice that made Kestrel realize just how vulnerable the woman was likely to feel at the moment.

  “Moorin, I will treat you respectfully, and protect you,” he said reassuringly. He heard a sound at the front door, a hammering.

  “Kestrel, they’re back already!” Moorin gasped, coming out with her bag.

  “Here, this is how we’ll escape,” Kestrel said, as he held up the vial Kere had given him. “It will make us invisible.

  “We’ll each take a sip of this potion, and then we’ll be invisible for an hour. Here, hold out your hand,” he told her.

  “Invisible?” he heard the disbelief in her voice.

  “This potion is a gift from Kere. She gave it to me while I was in your closet. She told me it would make us invisible,” he explained.

  “Until you arrived, I thought a closet was just a place to keep clothes. So far you’ve had sprites, goddesses, and kidnappers in there with you. Now I’ll never want to have a closet in my bedroom again,” she gently acquiesced. “How does it work?”

  Kestrel briefly explained, and then he tipped a few drops of the vial’s contents into her palm. The liquid was a shimmering, opalescent large drop that held its shape as it languidly rolled to and fro.

  “Now, I have to add this,” he put the vial down, picked up his knife, and pricked his finger. A large drop of deep red blood swelled up, and he held his finger over Moorin’s palm.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a heavily skeptical tone.

  The drop of blood fell onto the thick liquid, and immediately made the whole small puddle change to bright red, making a sizzling sound as it did.

  Now, drink it,” Kestrel ordered her.

  “Really? You drink it first,” she said scornfully.

  “We don’t have time for this!” Kestrel responded, but he tipped the vial above his own painfully swollen palm, and poured out the last precious drops of the shimmering fluid. “Hold your finger over it,” he said, and when Moorin calmly did so, he quickly jabbed the point of his knife into her fingertip.

  “Ouch!” she exclaimed as a series of drops of her blood leaked into Kestrel’s palm, hitting the vial’s contents and causing the same reaction it had caused in Moorin’s palm.

  Watch,” he said, and tipped his hand up to his lips. He promptly disappeared.

  Moorin shrieked. “Oh trees!” she gasped. “It really works!”

  “Now, hurry, take it,” Kestrel said as there was more pounding at the door, then the sound of splintering wood. As soon as she sipped at her hand, Kestrel began to take off his clothes.

  “I’m going to put out the light,” he told her. The room went dark. “Now, take all your clothes off,” Kestrel said in the darkness.

  “But,” Moorin began to protest.

  “Hurry!” Kestrel said sharply. “They’ll be here in a second. We can’t let them see us or our clothes standing about.”

  “Unbutton my dress for me,” she pleaded, panic in her voice as new elements of the rapidly evolving circumstances unfolded.

  Kestrel reached out and pulled her towards his position, then hastily undid the buttons and lifted the dress up over her head. He watched as her underclothes quickly dropped to the ground.

  “This feels so wrong,” Moorin wailed, just as the door to her room burst open and three men, including Lerry, entered.

  Kestrel reached out to where Moorin had been and grabbed her flesh, then pulled her toward his position, and backed them both against a wall.

  “Look! There’s a bag packed. They were getting ready to make a run,” Lerry said. “Check the closet, carefully,” he ordered one villain as another one looked into the packed bag.

  “They’re not in here,” the man in the closet reported. He passed within inches of them as he circled over to the window to look out.

  “We’ll go look up in the attic,” Lerry said, leading the three of them out of the room.

  “Oh leaves and roots! They were right here and didn’t see us!” Moorin whispered to Kestrel.

  “We’ve got less than an hour,” Kestrel said in response. He slid past her and opened the window. “Here, we’ve got to get out. You go first,” he ordered.

  She bumped into him, and for a fraction of a second he wished he was able to enjoy the contact of her soft flesh. He watched the curtains move as she went out.

  He picked up her bag, then stuffed his clothes and her clothes into it, and passed it out the window. He laid his staff against the window frame, then stepped out into the cool evening air. He pulled his staff with him, then pulled the window frame shut.

  “Here, put your hand on my shoulder,” Kestrel told Moorin. “We’re going to carry these things to the trees that cross the wall, and we’ll leave them there. While we’re walking with them, we’ll have to stop and put them down or hide them if anyone sees us,” he explained. “Then we’ll leave the clothes at the trees, and we’ll run to the gate and get out of the palace grounds. We’ll go back to the trees and get our clothes, and hopefully be dressed before we become visible.”

  “Can we do all of that?” Moorin’s voice asked.

  “We’ll have to hurry,” Kestrel answered, reaching for her hand and placing it on his shoulder.

  He started walked with the bag of clothes in one hand, and the staff helping him hobble forward in the other hand.

  They stopped three times for other pedestrians in their path, and by the time they reached the tree, Kestrel knew they didn’t have time to reach the gate.

  “We’re going to have to try to go over the wall here,” he told her. “You climb up the tree, and then I’ll hand things up to you.”

  Can you climb?” she asked simply.

  “I hope so,” he sighed.

  “Now go,” he stepped back and listened to the sound of her bare feet scrambling up the tree trunk.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered seconds
later.

  Kestrel handed up the bag of clothes, then slowly used his staff to help prop himself up to the first branch. He felt Moorin grab him and pull him up to a steady position.

  “Thanks,” he told her, and minutes later they each jumped from the tree inside the fence to the tree outside the palace grounds, then slowly followed their belongings down to the ground.

  They walked to an alley and got dressed. Moorin was fully dressed and Kestrel was pulling up his pants when they each were restored to visibility.

  “We did it!” Moorin said gleefully. “Now where do we go?”

  Kestrel led her through the city, taking alleys and hedges and yards as he slunk and limped around and away from traffic, and arrived in Creata’s house just as dawn broke.

  Chapter 16 – Departure from Graylee

  Kestrel led Moorin to the back door of the house, where a servant willingly let them in.

  “Master Kestrel, it’s so good to see you again,” the elderly cook said. “Master Philip was here yesterday, and was very worried about your absence.

  “I see you had good reason to be absent, with your lovely lady friend,” the cook added, politely ignoring the evident elven heritage that Moorin displayed.

  “Would you please show Lady Moorin to the small room in the basement?” Kestrel asked. “I have to go retrieve some items from the armory,” he explained.

  “How long will you be gone?” Moorin asked nervously in Elvish.

  “Just minutes,” Kestrel assured her as he left. He did return soon, bearing his pack of a few things and his skin of healing water as well as the skin of water from Decimindion. Assured by the staff that it would be acceptable, Kestrel and Moorin left the basement and went upstairs to his former room.

  Kestrel dribbled a few drops of water from the healing spring on his foot, then a few drops on his hand. He took a sip of the water as well. “Would you rub a little of this water onto my scalp where you hit me?” he asked Moorin, who had watched his ritual.

  She did as told. “This water comes from the spring you told me about? The water helps you heal?”