The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows

by Jeffrey Quyle

  There was a knock on the door. “Are you two going to eat lunch today?” Alicia asked, walking over to stand next to Silvan.

  “We are,” Silvan said, standing, motioning for Kestrel to stand as well. “We’re going to find a place to eat on the way to the palace,” he added.

  “Well, aren’t you social, now that your prodigy is back in town?” Alicia looked up at him and smiled, and in the smile Silvan returned Kestrel saw that the two of them had genuine affection for each other, and had gone far to heal the breach created by Alicia’s wayward affair, and Silvan’s earlier neglect of his wife. Kestrel was both pleased to see the warmth between them, and in some selfish way, sad to think that there was less of Alicia’s attention to be devoted to him. He was at the same time touched by the term she had used to describe him, as Silvan’s prodigy, a title he would not have been bold enough to assume for himself.

  The three of them walked into the city, and after a long walk that took them more than halfway to the palace, they stopped at a café, where they sat at a table by a window, and Kestrel silently watched the people walk by as they placed their orders.

  “What are you thinking?” Alicia asked him.

  “So many things,” he answered. “About how this city used to seem so big and intimidating, and now it feels small and quiet compared to some places I’ve been, and I’m still thinking about Moorin, and who and where she really is.

  “There is a Moorin out there somewhere, and I’m supposed to find her and rescue her someday, Kere told me,” he added, “and I just wonder,” his voice tailed off and his thought remained unspoken, as he wondered about Margo, and whether his straying from his dreams about her had been the result of an enchantment, or something within himself.

  “Tell me,” he wanted to change the topic, “is the palace safe? Are there still slaves to the Viathins within the palace or the court?”

  “There are some who I suspect may still be,” Silvan answered.

  “And there are some who are just stupid!” Alicia added with a laugh.

  “We’ve always had those; they breed at court, I think,” Silvan agreed. “But the King was shaken by the events last fall, and he has given Miskel authority that the Elder used to clean out as many people of questionable judgment as he could manage to without giving the King a heart attack.

  “I think your water will be extremely useful for the court,” Silvan finished, as their food was delivered.

  After the meal, they went separate ways. “I don’t really want to go back to the palace if I don’t have to,” Alicia explained, reminding Kestrel of her imprisonment there. “And I have patients to see back on the base.”

  Kestrel followed Silvan to the palace, where the colonel was recognized, and they were immediately admitted, and sent to the offices of the palace administration. “Elder Miskel is down at the armory inspecting the new recruits,” his aide told Silvan. The two visitors headed in that direction, where they found Miskel inspecting a number of young elves working with swords on the practice mats.

  “Silvan, what brings you down here where people do honest work?” Miskel asked as he saw the spymaster approaching.

  “Who’s this with you? Is that young Kestrel? You told us you didn’t know where he was! Good to see you young spy,” Miskel turned his attention from the trainees to shake hands heartily with the two visitors. “What tidings do you bring from the ugliness that is the world outside the Eastern Forest?” he asked Kestrel.

  “Can we go someplace private?” Silvan asked.

  “I had no doubt that we would need to. Give me a few minutes to finish observing this group,” Miskel turned back to the contests underway on the mats where the trainees struggled to learn the traditionally non-elven weapon, the sword, and they were soon on their way.

  “Well, what earth-shaking news do you bring to us?” Miskel asked as they took seats in a meeting room similar to the one Kestrel had been in when the abortive coup attempt in the palace had begun.

  Silvan answered, and explained in sketchy detail that the lizard monsters were the source and the carrier of the coup attempt and the destruction that had taken place in Center Trunk. “It sounds ridiculous, but Chandel did come from the south where so many of those lizards lived, and he was the center of the trouble. He even had a couple of those monsters as pets, didn’t he?” Miskel asked.

  Kestrel nodded vigorously. “And anyone who drinks from this water skin will be protected from falling under their control,” he reiterated.

  What else do you have? I can tell by that look in your eye that you’re just getting warmed up, Silvan,” Miskel asked.

  Silvan explained Kestrel’s relationship with the imps and sprites, and the troubled relationship that had developed with the southern neighbors.

  “We always understood that there were imps down there, but no one had seen them in recent memory, until they came to the palace looking for you,” Miskel motioned to Kestrel. “And the princess swears that they helped save her life. So it sounds like a diplomatic mission to me, and the decision will need to be made by the king, who will of course say yes. That’s not hard. What are you saving to be the deal-breaker?” he looked at Silvan.

  “Kestrel has been out trying to judge what our best options are vis-à-vis the humans, and he’s reached the conclusion that he should go back to Hydrotaz and actively fight on behalf of the princess who now rules there. And he’d like to take some support, such as a battalion of archers, perhaps,” Silvan explained.

  Miskel stared from one to the other.

  “You truly want elves to go into battle on behalf of Hydrotaz?” Miskel asked. “You mentioned the concept when you were here last time, and I know it was approved as an abstract concept, but to really do it will be quite a change from what we do now.”

  “I believe it is good for our nation, and good for theirs,” Kestrel said.

  “Will there be a treaty or something to cover such an event?” the palace official skeptically questioned.

  “Eventually,” Kestrel said. “But in the meantime, the princess will give me her word, and I’ll have to remain with the elves to serve as translator in any event, so I will ensure the terms of our agreement are honored.”

  “The king will say yes to you Kestrel, but not to anyone else. If you really believe in this, let’s arrange for you to see the king tomorrow and ask him in person,” Miskel decided. “Do you believe that much?”

  “I do,” Kestrel said sincerely.

  “Do you want to join your young catalyst for his audience when he sets off the sparks in the palace?” Miskel asked Silvan.

  “By all means,” Silvan agreed.

  “Very well. You can go back to your office now. I’ll send a message as soon as I know what time Kestrel will see the king. In the meantime,” he turned to Kestrel, “you and your magic skin of water can remain in the palace and expect to be put to work shortly. I’ll arrange for a hall for you to use, and then I’ll start sending the court and the guard and the staff to see you. You’ll have a lot of people grumbling to you for the rest of the day,” the Elder prophesized.

  “We’ll all sleep better for it,” Kestrel said philosophically.

  “Speaking of sleep, let’s plan for you to sleep here at the palace tonight. I’ll arrange for you to have the same suite you had last time, the one you shared with that exquisite woman,” Miskel said, making Kestrel wince. “Who was that?”

  “Her name was Alicia,” Kestrel answered, sneaking a momentary glance at Silvan. “But we slept in separate beds. We just happened to be together when we brought the princess back to the palace, after I saved her,” he stumbled over what to say, but saw Silvan discreetly wave his hand to stop.

  “If that suite was acceptable, we’ll put you back there,” Miskel went on.

  “Completely acceptable,” Kestrel agreed.

  Miskel and Silvan stood. “I’ll let you see yourself out. I’ll go make arrangements for Lord Kestrel’s activities here,” Miskel said, “and a messen
ger will be here soon to help you quench the thirst of everyone in the palace.”

  Kestrel thanked them both, and watched them leave the room, as he sat back down at the table. He hoped that Miskel was right, that the king would accept his proposals. But even more, he wanted the king to accept them because he understood that they were right, not simply as a favor to Kestrel.

  “Elder Miskel sent me,” a man’s voice interrupted Kestrel’s reverie a few minutes later. He looked up to see a man standing in the doorway, waiting to direct him to the hall where he would begin to dose the elves of the palace with the water given to him by Decimindion.

  “Here,” Kestrel said impulsively. “Have a drink first.”

  The man took the skin and sipped from it with an inquisitive glance, then suddenly seemed to quiver; he closed the door behind him. “I don’t know why I said that,” he confessed. “There’s an ambush set up around the corner.”

  “You go get help,” Kestrel instructed him, as he pulled out his knife. “And give me your knife,” he added, wanting to increase his supply of arms. Lucretia was no longer charmed, and his staff was broken, the two pieces lying back in the barracks room he had occupied, a piece of memorabilia he hadn’t been able to part with.

  Kestrel gave the newly converted messenger a head start to go notify help, then, with the two knifes in his hands, began to cautiously approach the site of the ambush he faced. He rushed the last few steps, letting his knives and his heavier, partly-human frame give him an advantage as he found three elves waiting for him. His planted his borrowed knife in one of the assailants, knocked one unconscious with a shoulder to the jaw, and faced the third one in a one-on-one knife fight that ended suddenly when an arrow flew down the hallway and pierced Kestrel’s opponent, as the restored messenger arrived with several guards to help Kestrel.

  Kestrel poured water down the throats of all the attackers, and for good measure made his rescuers drink some as well. Thereafter he was escorted to a hallway where he found several servants already lined up and awaiting him. From then until dinner time he sat and watched person after person drink from the water skin that never went empty, and after dinner he resumed his chore.

  There were several people who were affected by the drink of water. Kestrel guessed as many as one of every twenty were set free from the influence of Viathin control, and he asked to have armed guards present with him throughout his sessions after he discovered so many conversions. He made a note to tell Miskel that the palace needed to send more soldiers out along the river to hunt for and kill the Viathins – clearly, there were some still present in the capital.

  That evening, when he called a halt to his activity for the evening, he went back to his room, found paper in the desk there, and wrote a letter. He sealed it several minutes later, and addressed it for delivery to Karbeen, the village where Lucretia had gone to live a quiet life of rest and recovery after her rescue from slavery in Graylee. He asked her to consider joining him in Oaktown, so that she could participate in the next trip among the humans. He knew and trusted her, and he knew that she was one of the few potential warriors available who could understand the human language. He gave the letter to a servant to have it sent by the palace on the long delivery trip to distant Karbeen. The small village would receive quite a jolt from having a royal messenger arrive with a delivery, Kestrel knew. His arrival the previous autumn with Lucretia and Alicia had been the most newsworthy happening in Karbeen in many years.

  The next morning, Kestrel continued dousing the residents and workers of the palace, until a mid-morning note advised him that he would join the king and the princess for lunch.

  He was serving his water to the noble class, the members of the court and the advisors, who grumbled greatly but accepted their drinks under the eyes of the redoubled guards accompanying Kestrel between breakfast and lunch, up until the time came for him to be escorted to the private quarters of the palace. Only Miskel, Silvan and he sat to eat with the king and Princess Elwean. Kestrel’s report on the presence of several people who were converted away from Viathin influence by the water sobered the king, and he agreed to all of Kestrel’s proposals without contention.

  “You will now be known as Ambassador Kestrel, as well as Lord Kestrel, it seems,” Silvan congratulated him as they all stood to leave the dining room at the end of the meal.

  “In that case, Ambassador, may I have a private word for a moment,” the princess surprised him by asking.

  The king raised his eyebrows, but all acceded to the request, and the princess led Kestrel over to a small nook of the room that was surrounded by windows. “Thank you, Lord Kestrel,” she said with a cheery smile. “I just wanted to ask so that I understand, so those who have drank your enchanted water will forever be loyal to my father and I, is that correct? I’ve been very reluctant to accept the attentions of a member of the court recently, after the terrible things that happened with Chandel. But father is concerned about the continuation of our family’s dynasty, and expects me to do something.”

  “Well, technically, the water does not make them loyal to the crown,” Kestrel said delicately. “But it does make it impossible for them to be loyal to the monster lizards,” he explained, “so you do not need to fear that any man who has drunk this water would be a suitor who obeys the commands of the Viathins.”

  The princess sighed. “I suppose that’s good enough. Father has said that the only nobleman he would feel confidence in these days is you! But you’re never here at court, and now it sounds as if you’ll be gone again for another of these long adventures you fancy.”

  “I am committed to be gone for some time now, I believe, your majesty,” he delicately agreed. “I’m not sure how long it will be before I return. But I’m sure that the court will be a safer and more pleasant place now that you know the Viathin influence is gone. And besides,” he added hastily, “your father might say kind things about my loyalty now, but my human heritage would be a point of contention in the future, when we’re back to normal times.

  “Lord, I remember,” he said without thinking, “at the spring archery competition two years ago, when we first saw each other, I remember my friends told me you would be embarrassed to see me wear your colors for a year if I won the tournament, because I’m so ugly!” he laughed.

  “That’s not true!” the princess said indignantly.

  “I know,” Kestrel smiled. “That’s just how members of the guard keep each other humble. I was shooting very well that day.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me your majesty, I should prepare to be on my way,” he stood.

  “Lord Kestrel, I have tried to be as delicate as possible,” the princess replied, still sitting, “But you are forcing me to speak plainly. I wish to know if you wish to become my presumptive consort. Is there some other engagement that prevents you from planning to become part of the royal family?”

  Kestrel sat back down hurriedly, stunned by the princess’s declaration. “My lady,” he began. He looked at the guarded eyes of the princess, and saw that she was hurt by his failure to seek her hand. “I must confess to you a story that will tell you why my heart is not taken by any other, but currently not in a condition to be given away,” and he gave an abbreviated version of the story of Moorin, from Kere’s first prophecy that he would meet her, to the long journey and hurried, strange engagement that had occurred in the farm yard, and finally to the revelation that Moorin had only been a Viathin monster, masquerading as the woman Kestrel was destined to rescue.

  Over an hour had passed, he realized as he finished his long explanation for why he wasn’t prepared to become engaged to join the royal family. “Kestrel, you must feel like the world is a dangerous place for you to open your heart!” Elwean commented. “That’s the feeling I have these days; my first husband died after we were married only a year, and then my favored suitor turned out to be a traitor controlled by these monsters, and is killed in the palace, by you of all people. And now it seems that any potential sui
tor might be another servant to the same monsters, barring only a sip of your water.”

  Kestrel looked at the princess with sympathy. She was right, he did feel as though love were a dangerous activity. His relationship with Merilla had been forbidden by the gods, his desire for Margo had come to naught through a variety of mistimed opportunities, his relationship with Alicia had never been more than a hint, while Lucretia had been too hurt to open her heart to him. And the princess had clearly fared little better than Kestrel.

  “Maybe we should be together,” he laughed. “We’ll start our own club for those unlucky in love!”

  “That’s not the most promising basis to start a relationship on,” Elwean smiled gently.

  “You go out there on your next adventure, and if, when you come back, neither of us has fared any better, then I’ll expect to receive your terms of proposal, Lord Kestrel,” she told him, then stood. “Now go out on your journey; I hope you find success, and I hope you come back safely with good news.”

  Kestrel stood, and took the princess’s hand, then awkwardly bent over it and kissed it, certain this he had to do something out of the ordinary in the face of their extraordinary conversation. “I look forward to seeing you again, princess,” he replied, then left the room and closed the door behind him.

  A pair of guards stood outside the door, and a third guard was standing nearby.

  “My lord,” he called, as Kestrel began to walk down the hallway, uncertain of where to go. “My lord,” the guard repeated, “Lord Kestrel,” he added, gaining Kestrel’s attention finally. “My lord, if you’ll follow me, Elder Miskel wishes to speak with you.”

  “Thank you,” Kestrel replied. He turned, and saw the princess being escorted down the hallway by her two bodyguards, and he spent a long moment examining her figure speculatively, imagining the unimaginable scenario that might lead to him married to the princess, the heir to the throne. He turned again, and followed the guide who led him from the residence of the royal family to the administrative wing, where Miskel waited.