The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown

by Jeffrey Quyle

  Ruelin looked around the room, and paused before he spoke. “Well, Lord Kestrel, you certainly seem to have the ability to convince the women of your powers.

  “Now that we’re settling down to order again in Seafare, what warlike thing do you propose to do?”

  “I want to go to sea, to try to head off Probst’s message,” Kestrel replied readily. “Uniontown will be displeased with the change in circumstances here once they find out about it, but if we can cut off the ambassador’s order for soldiers to be sent here, we may be able to avoid another, immediate battle.

  “I’ll ask the imps to take me to your Graylee ship at sea and we’ll wait to intercept the messenger on the waters of Last Sea,” he said, looking at Creata. “They’ve already been told to alter course, haven’t they?”

  “How will you’re going to the ship make a difference in intercepting Probst’s messenger?” Ruelin asked.

  Kestrel and Moorin looked at one another. “I’ve had some experience with sea battles recently,” he said with a smile. “I think I can help.”

  “I’m sure the ship’s captain should be changing course by now to wait for the Uniontown messenger,” Creata agreed.

  “And if you miss him, just think, we can have another battle!” Wren said brightly. “That would be fun; it would give us something to do.”

  “There will be battles to come,” Kestrel assured his cousin. “Until the Viathins either win or lose, the war will rage on in one form or another. They need to plunder more of the life out of our world.”

  “The seas will be getting rough,” Creata warned. “We’re well into fall, and with winter time will come storms on the Inner Seas.”

  “How late in the year is it?” Kestrel asked. He hadn’t looked at a calendar or thought about dates in a long time, and he suddenly realized that the approach of the start of winter was the end of his access to the invaluable help from the imps and sprites who had made such a difference in all his recent endeavors.

  “It’s a week until the start of winter,” Wren answered.

  Kestrel stood. “I’d like to go gather my things and get ready to go,” he said.

  “And what about the rest of you?” Moorin asked Picco, Wren, and Creata. “You are welcome to stay here in Seafare as our guests, or we will help you on your way if you wish to go elsewhere.”

  “Philip sent me here as his ambassador,” Creata said. “I think I’ll stay a while and help settle things in.”

  “If Creata’s staying, so will I,” Picco said quickly, her eyes shifting from her brother to Ruelin to Kestrel. “I don’t fancy trying to travel at sea back to Graylee on board a bucking ship just now. More power to you, Kestrel,” she smiled.

  “I’ll wait here for a while too,” Wren added. “If Kestrel’s going to come back here, I’m sure things are going to get interesting. And someone needs to keep an eye on Creata,” she added, making the new ambassador grin.

  “Your ‘things’ are in the prince’s suite,” Moorin said to Kestrel. She rose from her seat. “I’ll lead you there,” she offered.

  “Will you be gone long?” Ruelin asked.

  “What things do you need my lord?” Moorin asked Kestrel. “Your knife and your bow?”

  “Exactly,” Kestrel agreed. “My weapons primarily.”

  “We won’t be gone long,” Moorin informed Ruelin. She circled around the table to the door, and opened it, then motioned for Kestrel to join her.

  “Do you want a guard to accompany you?” Ruelin asked.

  “With Kestrel along, who needs a guard?” Wren asked rhetorically.

  With that the pair left the room and started walking along a busy hall. “As much time as we’ve been seen together, I’m surprised you agreed to come out with me again without an escort,” Kestrel commented in elvish.

  “The elf Kestrel and I have hardly been seen together at all,” Moorin answered. “Up until today, all the time we spent together was while you appeared to be Ruelin,” she reminded him. “So there’s no great impropriety in such an occasional sojourn together.

  “Kestrel,” she said as they turned a corner and started climbing a grand staircase, “you used those divine powers to switch bodies with Ruelin. Do you understand how to control those abilities now?” she looked at him as she spoke. “Can you do anything you want to?”

  “If I could do anything, we wouldn’t be walking to find my weapons,” Kestrel answered with a smile. “No, Moorin, I haven’t truly figured out how to control them. I’ve realized that there has to be a deep-seated desire within me, something that my soul truly, absolutely wants, in order for the power to be used,

  “And then you can accomplish anything? Even to the point of stepping into someone else’s body? Root-and-branch save the person who has something you want!” she shook her head.

  “Ruelin has something I want,” Kestrel said quietly.

  She glanced sideways at him as they reached the doors to her suite, where Ruelin’s body had laid while he was unconscious following the restoration of his soul to his own body.

  “There’s your bow,” she pointed out. “And here’s your knife,” she picked Lucretia up off the bedside table and presented it to him.

  “Moorin, would you delay your marriage to Ruelin? Would you wait for me?” Kestrel suddenly asked. He slipped the knife into his belt, then took her hands in his as they spoke in elvish. “I don’t know how long it will be until all this is over, and the Viathins are defeated. I feel hopeful, optimistic, that momentum is on our side. I can’t make any promises or commitments until the war against Uniontown is won,” he said, until Moorin interrupted him.

  “Kestrel,” she stopped his flow of words as she looked down at their hands, “don’t. Don’t say these things. We have to be honorable people; we have to follow the commitments we’ve made. It doesn’t matter what else we want or think. The leaders of the people have to set the example of doing the right thing.

  “For example,” her voice hardened, “what about Picco and your child? Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with her?”

  Kestrel hung his own head and blushed, as Moorin looked up at him. “We spent one night together as more than friends, at an emotional time, and gave each other comfort. If I were to marry Picco I would be a lucky man; she’s beautiful, personable, bright. I love her as a friend.

  “But her mother’s spirit prophesized that I was not for her. The spirit said I would help find her mate, and that I would have to travel a long ways to find the woman who would be my own mate someday,” Kestrel explained.

  “I will support and assist Picco in any way that I can,” Kestrel added. “But I can no more defeat the prophecy of her mother’s spirit, the prophecy that separates us, than I can defeat the prophecy that makes me your protector.”

  Moorin pulled her hands from his, and walked over to the bow. She carried it back to him. “We better get back to the others. Is there anything else you’ll need to take with you before you go to the ship?”

  “Will you promise me that you won’t take any steps while I’m gone, nothing else to further cement your relationship with Ruelin?” he asked.

  “I’ll think about it,” Moorin said after a pause.

  “Kestrel, my life was going to be complicated before you came into it. Now it’s going to be even more complicated,” she mourned as they left the suite and re-entered the hallway. “You told me you had come to rescue me the first time we met, at my engagement party. Do you remember?” she asked.

  Kestrel nodded, thinking of the intense feeling of intimacy he had experienced that night, when they had sat together on the divan in her father’s house.

  “I told you then I had just broken one engagement because York was unfaithful. And I told you I didn’t want to break another engagement by being unfaithful in turn to Ruelin,” she reminded him. “And you’re so overpowering and mysterious and unpredictable. You’re frightening, Kestrel.”

  Kestrel grinned. He thought that her comment was ironic. She
was the most beautiful woman he had met, and if he had met her before his adventures began he would have been hopelessly tongue-tied, overwhelmed, intimidated, and mesmerized by her presence.

  “What are you smiling at, frightening one?” she asked.

  “There you two are,” Ruelin was approaching them down the hall. ‘Is everything alright?”

  “Certainly,” Moorin said.

  “I have what I need from your rooms, thank you. I’ll say good bye now, and go bid farewell to the others,” Kestrel answered quickly.

  “They’re still in the conference room where we were gathered, around the corner to the right,” Ruelin said. He held out his hand and shook with Kestrel. “Thank you for the good things you have done here, Kestrel. I look forward to seeing you back soon.”

  Moorin held her hand high. Kestrel remembered the northern elves’ custom of slapping hands together, and he raised his own hand, so that their palms gently touched, and then she clasped her fingers upon his hand and smiled.

  “Safe travels, rescuer,” she said.

  “I look forward to seeing you again soon,” he replied, as she released her grasp.

  With that he turned and walked towards the others. As he turned the corner he looked back and saw Ruelin and Moorin speaking intently to one another.

  He returned to the room where his friends were rising from their chairs. “I’m ready to go,” Kestrel told them. “I want to say good bye, and I’ll see you all soon again, I’m sure.

  “Have you decided you want to come along and have a sea battle?” he asked Wren.

  “No, I’d like to stay here, to help Creata. An ambassador needs to have a body guard, you know. I’m sure you’re going to bring a battle back to me soon enough,” she replied.

  “Gods help you,” he turned to Creata and shook hands. “I’m sorry to have inflicted her upon you.”

  “I don’t find her to be completely offensive,” he grinned.

  “Picco,” he turned to the girl, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Will you be okay? Would you like for the imps to take you back to Graylee or anywhere else? In a few more days they won’t be able to travel between places; they can’t move during the winter months.”

  “Can they take me back in time? Could they take me back to the first time we met, when so many things seemed simpler, and so many bad things hadn’t happened?” She answered, then hugged Kestrel tightly. “No, there’s nothing you can do. You are such a good friend, such an extraordinary man. I’ll wait here and look forward to your return. Seafare is an interesting place to visit, and living in a palace isn’t a bad way to visit.”

  “Stillwater,” Kestrel called.

  The imp appeared within seconds.

  “Kestrel friend? Are you the heart of Kestrel living within the body of Kestrel once again?” the imp asked as he floated about the room. “Hello other friends,” he added.

  “I am whole again,” Kestrel affirmed, and laughed with the imp as the small blue being clapped. The other members of Kestrel’s appointed squad of imps appeared in the room as well.

  The reunion felt like a homecoming. Although he’d seen Odare, Canyon, and Killcen just two days before while he occupied Ruelin’s body, the imps considered it a great victory to work with a single Kestrel united in body and soul.

  “Before you go Kestrel, perhaps I should give you a note,” Creata suggested. “Something from me that will inform the captain of the ship that he is to follow your orders and allow you to command the movements of the ship. That way there won’t be any questions.”

  “That seems reasonable,” Kestrel agreed.

  “Let’s go find some paper and a pen,” Creata said as he moved towards the door. “If you ladies will stay here, I’ll come back in just a moment,” he said, “and I’m sure the imps will keep you company.” In the hallway, he asked a guardsman where he could find writing materials, and the two went down the hall to an office.

  “Your cousin Wren,” Creata murmured as he began to scrawl a note. “I find her fascinating. Do you know of any other men out there paying attention to her?” he asked Kestrel.

  Kestrel’s head whipped around in astonishment at the implications of the question. “The only men I’ve seen pay attention to her are the ones she’s sliced apart with a sword,” he answered with a laugh.

  “Be that as it may, would you object, as her male family, if I were to court her?” Creata placed the pen down and waved the paper to dry the ink.

  “Her father may be alive, but hundreds of miles away,” Kestrel answered. “And as such, I have no objection. And even if I did, Wren would beat me to a bloody pulp if she were in favor of allowing you to court her anyway,” he laughed again, “or she’d beat you to a pulp if she weren’t.”

  “I presume you believe there is some mutual attraction?” he asked, thinking that he had seen signs to indicate perhaps there were.

  “There are words and glances,” Creata answered carefully as he folded the dry letter and handed it to Kestrel. The two returned to the others, where the imps gathered around Kestrel.

  “We’ll be back soon, before you know it,” Kestrel told his friends, and then he was gone from the palace.

  Chapter 4 – Adventure at Sea

  Kestrel arrived on the deck of the ship, the Galatea, to the surprise of the crew on board.

  “You’re back, my lord,” an officer said politely as Kestrel told the imps to enjoy themselves but to stay close.

  “I am. I’m here to help you and your crew chase down that Uniontown ship from Seafare, the messenger that Lord Creata asked you to intercept,” Kestrel said. “I’ve got this authorization from the Lord to help lead the search and the fight.”

  “Are we truly to pursue this chase?” the captain of the ship asked moments later as Kestrel and his letter were escorted to speak to the man. “We felt it was hardly likely that we could find one ship on the whole vast sea, and the men have heard such tales of the dangers of the waters near the mouth of the Gamble that they’d prefer not to find out what the area is like,” he referred to the river that ran from Uniontown to the Last Sea, the route that Uniontown shipping followed.

  “We’ll go there and do our best,” Kestrel spoke firmly. “What kinds of dangers do you fear?”

  “There are reports of sea monsters, and many ships have disappeared in the area, never to be seen again,” the captain said firmly.

  “We’ll go there and do our duty,” Kestrel repeated firmly, “and I’ll put myself at risk just as much as anyone else.”

  “That’s of small comfort, my lord, to know that if we’re to die, you’ll die with us,” the captain answered forthrightly.

  “I understand. But I bring my pledge of assistance in any battle,” Kestrel said. He walked over to the side of the ship. “See that tree branch in the water?” he asked the captain, pointing to a small, leafy branch floating a hundred yards off the side of the ship. He strung an arrow on his bow, pulled the string, and fired a shot that flew straight and true to the branch, where the arrowhead buried itself deeply into the wood of the limb.

  “I’ll do that and more to any sea monsters we find,” Kestrel said dismissively, “and I’ll do all the work you need to defeat our quarry if you can spot the ship for me. So let’s set a course for the mouth of the Gamble River and wait to capture that prize.”

  “One arrow’s not a lot, though it was a pretty shot, I’ll grant you,” the captain said reluctantly. “We’ll set course and see what we can find.

  “And we’ll turn back if there’s more than we can handle,” he added.

  Kestrel nodded. “You can bunk in your former cabin. I think some of your things are there still,” the captain added, as he started to walk towards the helmsman to change course.

  A crew member directed Kestrel down to the cabin Ruelin had occupied while the prince had occupied Kestrel’s body. Kestrel lay down on the bunk, and marveled at the fact that only that morning he had first re-awoken in his own body, and already he was off
on a mission. He had left Moorin behind, knowingly – reluctantly, but knowingly. She seemed to have some feeling for him; he hoped it was more than simple gratitude for the protection he had provided, but he was pleased that she at least was less adverse to him than she had originally seemed.

  During the rest of the day Kestrel spent his time up in the tops of the masts, holding on to ropes, talking to the imps, and staying out of the way of the crew as he scanned the sea’s distant surface for signs of the black hull and green sails of the Uniontown messenger. That evening he released the imps to return to their homes.

  The next day Kestrel climbed high up the mast again, keeping an eye on the wide horizon around the ship, but at noon he saw something in the water that caused him to descend so rapidly the crew members asked what the trouble was.

  “I see monster lizards in the water,” he explained, as he grabbed his bow and stood at the side of the ship. He strung an arrow and fired, then stared intently for several seconds. He shot at a second monster, then raced to the other side of the ship and shot another of the Viathins in their primitive form that swam through the sea on that side as well.

  After a pause, he found more of the monsters to shoot. They seemed to communicate with one another, because by the middle of the afternoon none of the creatures came close to the ship, and he could only speculate about their presence in the water.

  They all traveled in the opposite direction that the Galatea sailed in. “Are we close to the mouth of the Gamble River?” he asked the navigator.

  “We’re heading right for it,” the man confirmed. “Why?”

  “All these Viathins I shoot seem to be heading away from the river, like they’re coming from Uniontown and deploying to spread their poison around the Inner Seas,” Kestrel answered. He climbed up into the masts above the deck, and from his elevated perch occasionally landed a shot at the far boundary of his range to kill another Viathin.

  The next morning there were no Viathins in the water when Kestrel awoke, and the crew was uneasy about their proximity to Lakeview, the Uniontown-conquered port city at the mouth of the Gamble. “This is where ships disappear,” the captain explained to Kestrel.