Kestrel watched his shaft fly in a straight line, as the sounds of twanging bow strings erupted in a continual chorus around him. His arrow struck the ambassador in the shoulder, and Kestrel observed the surprised look on his face, and the fearful expression on the prince’s face, as the ambassador slowly teetered over, falling out of his saddle and disappearing from sight among the moving masses. Kestrel automatically reached over his shoulder and pulled out another arrow, and sent it flying at the man on the prince’s right side, as he observed other victims starting to fall out of their saddles in the crowded cluster of the horse-riding leaders of the Graylee army. Kestrel lost sight of the prince then as the orderly group of the court followers and officers began to break down into a seething mass of panicked targets.
The leaders of Graylee’s invasion quickly realized what was happening, and some of their effective officers were trying to turn the ponderous army, to make those in the back stop advancing, and to get those in danger to move towards safety. Kestrel targeted every officer he saw who seemed to be succeeding, and for ten minutes or more the road was simply a slaughterhouse, as the men and elves on top of the bluff fired down the steep slope at the virtually immobilized targets below. A few arrows were flying back up towards the top of the bluff, but only a handful had the energy to reach the hill’s crown, and only a pair of those had caused any harm to the elven archers above.
Some men were trying to climb up the bluff, but the way was steep, and they were easily shot off as they slowly climbed. A few in the front managed to ride out beyond the range of even the human archers, and in pairs and singles, more and more of those riders managed to reach the safety of the northern stretch of the road.
After half an hour, Kestrel felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned to see one of the human archers from Greysen’s group. “Commander Greysen said to tell you that we’re about out of arrows, and there’s no sign of any more on their way to us, plus some of the riders who got past the ambush are looking for a way to get up here at us, and it won’t be long before we have company,” the slightly portly man reported.
Kestrel looked up and down the line; many of the elven archers were also out, or nearly out, of arrows as well. He looked down the bluff at the chaos below, where scores, perhaps hundreds of men were dead, the majority of them wearing uniforms of officers. His men had had so many high priority targets marching by them there had been no supply wagons that came within range before the Graylee army bogged down. Much of the Graylee army had finally managed to react to the attack by switching direction and withdrawing; although he knew they had scored a success by forcing the invaders to retreat, Kestrel was disappointed to see the wagons of potential supplies disappearing in the hazy dust along the road.
“How many riders are down there at that end?” Kestrel asked.
“I’d guess three or four score,” the messenger replied.
“Okay, we’re going to start to fall back. We’re going to have to stay close to each other, and those who have shafts left are going to have to keep the horses at a distance. Go tell Greysen to start getting organized, and I’ll send our people his way,” Kestrel announced as he decided it was time to run for the safety of the walls around the city.
Over the next two hours, in a game that felt like cat and mouse, the elven and human band of archers crept back to the safety of the city, sprinting for a distance, then stopping to rest, catch their breath and shoot at the chasing cavalry riders. They slowly made their way down the hill and across an open field, losing men to arrows from the horse riders, but determinedly carrying their injured comrades along, so that when the gates in the city wall opened, every elf and man who had gone to the top of the bluff made it into the city.
The elves were a novelty in the city, but the reports from the Hydrotaz archers who had been with them raised them to high regard among those in the city, who heard about how the entire Graylee army had been held off and forced to turn around. Kestrel and Greysen went immediately to the palace to report to Ferris and the rest of the leadership.
“If we had more arrows, we could have held out forever,” Greysen said enthusiastically. “We absolutely wiped out the front quarter of their army; there must be a thousand dead out there.”
“What will they do next? Where will they try to go this time?” Kestrel asked the assembled leaders of the city.
“They could go down the river and then come back at us from the south,” one colonel suggested.
“We didn’t get their equipment, the siege engines,” Kestrel bemoaned. “We saw them, but they never came within range, and we didn’t ever receive any arrows with pitch.”
A conversation followed in which Kestrel and Greysen discovered that their request had never been passed along to the commanders.
“Those engines are going to be trouble in the future,” one officer at the end of the table said. “It’s too bad we can’t go out after them.”
“Who says we can’t?” Kestrel asked excitedly. “If they’re not far away yet, maybe we could take a small raiding party out to find them and shoot them full of burning arrows. We could put an end to this invasion right now!”
And so it was worked out that late that night, Kestrel and Lucretia, as translators, along with a half dozen elves and a half dozen Hydrotaz archers, went in search of the siege engines, carrying bows and arrows covered in pitch, along with a tinder box that carried live coals. They slipped out of one of the smaller gates to the city, and went in search of the invading army whose location was unknown.
The elves’ sharp vision allowed them to lead the way through the countryside, a land of farms that were empty of their owners, who had fled in the face of the invading army. At length they came upon the Graylee forces, camped near the port where their ships lay in the water, a sullen, quiet camp that had none of the songs or laughter of a successful army.
The siege machines’ disassembled posts and beams and wooden gears sat atop flat-bed wagons on the edge of the camp. “We’ll need to put a lot of arrows into the machines, then prevent them from dousing the flames too quickly,” Mitchell told Kestrel as they crouched near their target. “A few arrows are going to have to set that wood blazing right away.”
Kestrel agreed, knowing that the potential for the fire to be quickly extinguished was the flaw in the plan. They split up into two forces, one farther away with the arrows dipped in pitch, and one closer by to shoot at the likely firefighters, in hopes of gaining time for the flames to catch hold. Lucretia led the men who were further away, while Kestrel took the elves in closer, where they settled into an abandoned farm shed. One of his imp companions, Stillwater, flew down to sit on his shoulder.
“Kestrel warrior, we have had nothing to do in any of this battle. Don’t you think we are fighters too?” the blue imp asked.
Kestrel looked up at the imp, and suddenly, an idea came to him.
“I was saving you for when I need you,” Kestrel answered. “Can you go to Lucretia, and ask her to give you all the extra pitch they have? Tell her you will take the pitch and spread it on the machine we are going to set fire to. Tell her that will help her arrows make the whole wooden pile a brilliant pyre that folks will be able to see all the way from the Eastern Forest. Then you and your imps will have to go spread the pitch around on the wooden blocks on the wagons we want to burn; you can’t let the humans catch you or see you though. Can you do this?”
“We can and will,” Stillwater answered. “We will do this and more, if you wish.”
“What else can you do?” Kestrel asked with interest. “No wait, don’t tell me now, go tell Lucretia what you will do, and we can discuss other projects later.”
The imps disappeared, leaving Kestrel and the elves alone again in their shed.
“Are you used to them?” one of the elves asked. “Because I’m not!” the girl said. “Every time I see one I think I’m in a dream!”
“They’re real enough, and they’ve been helping me almost since the day all these adventure
s began,” he commented, then sat in silent thought, realizing that it had to be more than a coincidence that he had befriended the elusive sprites and imps just when he needed their extraordinary abilities.
He sat and let his mind wander for several minutes over the number of extraordinary coincidences that he realized could not have been coincidences. “Thank you, Kere,” he prayed a snap prayer of gratitude to the Elven goddess of fate.
“They’ve started,” one of his companions commented, and Kestrel joined the others in looking out the doorway of the shack, where he saw a set of flaming arrows falling from the sky, looking like a meteor shower as they all streaked downward. The arrows hit their targets, and the elves with Kestrel all whispered appreciatively as they watched the arrows strike the dark piles in the camp, and then saw the flames spread with unnatural swiftness, thanks to the flammable pitch spread so liberally by the imps.
“Let’s get out there and get in position,” Kestrel told the elves. “I don’t think we’ll have to stay very long or take many risks; those fires are getting along fine already.”
The elves left the shack and spread out into a short line of archers who knelt with their bows held ready, watching as another round of arrows lofted through the skies towards the camp. Shouts of alarm were audible within the camp behind the fires, and soldiers bearing buckets of water started to appear, trying to approach the rapidly spreading and heating fires.
“Alright, let’s give them something else to worry about,” Kestrel told his troop, and the arrows began to fly, falling among and disheartening the impromptu firefighters. They stayed in position for no more than three minutes before Kestrel urged them all to stop. “They’ll be mad, and they’ll be coming after us. It’s time to move to a new location,” he ordered, and he led the archers to a new position a hundred yards away. They began to shoot at the firefighters again, and listened to the voices of conflict within the camp.
“Those fires aren’t going to be put out,” Kestrel concluded after a few more arrows scared more firefighters away from the blazing wagons. “Let’s go meet the others and get back to the city.”
The weary group returned to the city gate just an hour before dawn. They got little sleep before they were awakened by leaders of the Hydrotaz government eager to hear reports on the mission.
A bleary-eyed Kestrel walked into the conference room where Yulia and her staff were assembled.
“I can tell you that we believe we achieved complete success,” Kestrel announced simply. “The fires that were blazing on those wagon loads of timber were beyond the ability of that army to put out.”
“How can we be sure, and so what?” one belligerent officer asked. “Even without the siege engines, if they’re really damaged, that army is big enough to lay siege to the city and overwhelm us.”
“But they don’t have the leadership anymore,” Kestrel countered. “We wiped out their officer corps yesterday. They may still attack, you may be right,” he conceded, “but they will not be effective.”
“Stillwater,” Kestrel called, and the room collectively gasped when his imp companion arrived. “Would you go take a look at the army we attacked last night and come back to report on two things: did we burn those wagons all the way down, and what is the army doing now? Are they marching back here towards the city?”
“As you wish, warrior friend,” the imp replied, and then vanished from the room.
“Was that real?” a person at the other end of the table asked.
“I have heard talk among his friends in Graylee that Lord Kestrel,” Princess Yulia emphasized his title, “had connections to the other races of our world. You know gnomes too, don’t you, my purple-eyed friend?”
Because he was tired, Kestrel felt irritable, and wanted to make a retort to the doubters in the room about how trustworthy his imp, sprite, and gnome friends were compared to many humans, but he bit his tongue. “Yes, your highness, I have met many members of the other races, and worked well with them several times. I owe them my life.” You’re growing in maturity, my servant, he was startled to hear Kai’s voice gently speak in his soul.
Stillwater elicited more gasps from the crowd as he returned to the room. “The wagons of timber are ashes, my friend,” he announced. “And many of the humans in that army are getting onto their ships now.”
“Thank you for the news Stillwater. That is good news indeed,” Kestrel replied with a smile, as whispers filled the room.
“What do you make of that?” Ferris turned to the skeptic who had questioned Kestrel.
The man made no reply, as his face took on a look of set disdain.
“This meeting is dismissed. Corban, have scouts sent out to confirm the departure of the invaders,” and tally up any losses we suffered in the countryside,” Yulia ordered one of her advisors. “Lord Kestrel, would you and Ferris please stay behind for a moment?”
The room emptied out, until only the princess, Ferris, Kestrel and Stillwater remained. “Thank you my friend for bringing a victory I did not think we could achieve, especially with so little loss. First you saved my life, and now you’ve saved my kingdom!” she hugged Kestrel in a tight embrace.
“I am glad we did all that we did for such a good person,” Kestrel replied, looking over Yulia’s head at Ferris. “I hope that this service from your Elven neighbors will be enough to persuade your people that we do not need to be at war.”
“It’s a good beginning,” Ferris replied. “It won’t change the hearts of some people of course, but for many people the events of this battle will be the beginning.”
“What will you do now, my friend?” Yulia asked.
“I’m going to send the elves back home to the forest,” Kestrel answered. “And if it meets with your approval, I’ll suggest that Lucretia be named as the ambassador to Hydrotaz, if she feels comfortable taking on such an assignment.”
“She is the exotic beauty, the one who speaks our language?” Ferris asked.
Kestrel nodded.
“She would be a perfect choice, second only to you,” Yulia answered. “I presume this means that you do not intend to stay here to be the ambassador yourself?”
“No,” Kestrel spoke faintly. “I’m ready to return to Graylee, to try to help Philip and Margo.”
“You’ll stay among the humans, eh?” Ferris asked. “Will you need to have your ears changed again, so that you look human?”
“No,” Kestrel said simply, giving further voice to the thoughts that had stirred in his mind for many days. “Never again. I am who I am, and I’ve decided that there’s no more subterfuge or hiding it. The people who know me know I’m part elf, or that I’m part human, and they either can look past my ears or they won’t,” he thought of the false Moorin he had traveled with. Something in their conversations, deceptive though the girl had turned out to be, had made him realize that there should be, and perhaps could be, more acceptance of elves by humans and vice versa. He would be one small catalyst to bring that change around henceforth, he decided.
“I will go to Graylee and try to help bring peace to that land, and then we’ll have to figure out how to fight the next battle against these monsters and their followers out there,” Kestrel answered.
“Which reminds me,” he took the water skin of magical water off his shoulder and handed it to Ferris. “If you want to put this to work to dose as many more people as you can for the next day while I attend to the elves, please do so. I’ll need to take it to Graylee with me.”
Yulia stepped back from him and looked up. “We’ll miss having you here,” she began.
“And please tell Philip you’re thinking of him,” Kestrel finished her comment for her with a grin. “He knows; he’s thinking of you too.” Kestrel motioned for his imp companion to come join them.
“Stillwater, this is Yulia, the ruler of Hydrotaz. She is your neighbor, just as my lands in the Eastern Forest are the neighbor of the Swampy Morass. When the time comes, I want you to be able to find Yulia, and b
e able to deliver her to me. Can you arrange that?” Kestrel asked.
“There is certainly a way we can make such arrangements,” Stillwater agreed. “It would be a pleasure to serve any friend of yours, Kestrel warrior, especially such a nice friend as this. And it will give Dewberry another thing to talk about!”
Kestrel laughed. “Yes it will! Having a human beauty delivered will be something she will comment on. But this time, it will not be for my sake,” he added, “though that won’t keep her from saying something.”
“Does the human speak our language?” Stillwater asked.
“No, she doesn’t,” Kestrel replied. “I’ll have to give you notes to carry to her when the time comes to reach her.”
Kestrel turned to Yulia to explain the arrangement as a prelude to a potential future trip Yulia might be requested to take to Graylee to see Philip again, leaving the girl with sparkling eyes as the meeting broke up, and Kestrel went in search of the elven contingent, which was uncomfortably housed in a barracks building inside the city walls.
“I’ve got good news for you all,” Kestrel told them. “Today you may begin the journey back home to the Eastern Forest,” Kestrel announced, and looked at the grins that spread throughout the room.
“But?” one voice asked.
“There is none. Our work here appears to be done for now. The imp Stillwater went and looked at the invading force, and they are all departing on ships, leaving Hydrotaz,” Kestrel told them. “So pack up, and remember that you have helped take a large step forward towards making peace between the Eastern Forest and Hydrotaz.”
“Everyone’s dismissed except Lucretia,” he said, and let them all wander away except Lucretia, who sat looking at him with a penetrating gaze, and Giardell, who chose to cross the room and join them. Two of the imps were present, Quail and Ripple, Kestrel thought, though he hadn’t completely satisfied himself that he could tell them all apart yet.
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows Page 31
