A Marriage of Friends (The Inner Seas Kingdoms Book 8)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “We just wanted to help him on his way,” Marlin said feebly.

  “Where are your manners, traveler? Don’t you know to remove your hood and kneel in the presence of your superiors?” the man asked Kestrel. “Kneel!” he repeated the word in a roar.

  “Let this man go. He’s done nothing wrong,” Kestrel said, remaining on his feet, defiant.

  “I make the decisions here; you do not. You do not give the orders. Now kneel, or his head comes off right now,” the man spoke in a low, intense voice.

  “Please,” Marlin whispered desperately.

  “And pull your hood back!” the swordsman snapped additionally.

  Kestrel dropped to his knees, then reached up to the top of his hood. His hand stopped there, as Kestrel prepared to release his power. He was going to protect Marlin first, before anything else, and he had his energy prepared to form a protective shield around the servant, a shield that would cling to the man’s skin, keeping the sword blade’s edge from doing any harm.

  He pulled the hood down, revealing his eyebrows and ears, and stared straight at the man who was in charge.

  “Bloody waters! He’s an elf!” the swordsman burst out laughing. He pulled his sword back from Marlin, just as Kestrel prepared to release his power. “It’s Listay’s fabulous rescuer, come to save the world, broken arm and all!” the man laughed, and the others around the yard took their cue from him, starting to laugh as well.

  “So were you the Destroyer who killed all the Viathins?” the man mocked Kestrel. “We could stand to have them around again, to bring some order to Uniontown.

  “I hate elves. You’re all just a waste of space,” the man continued. “Say good bye, elf, because your time has come!” He raised his sword, then slashed it down at Kestrel’s face.

  In the moment that his arm’s momentum began to swing towards Kestrel, Kestrel pulled out Lucretia, and flicked the knife upward at the man, while he also simultaneously released his energy, using it to create a small shield around himself instead of Marlin. The blue glow suddenly lit up the barn yard, making the people shout and gasp in surprise, while the attacker released his sword as he clutched at the knife that pierced his chest. The sword fell on top of Kestrel’s shield, then slid down the outside of the shield and lay in the dirt of the yard.

  “Good heavens, it’s the Destroyer!” one of Fields’s men screamed.

  Two of the men spurred their horses and started to ride off, while three others threw knives, and another pair fired arrows, all of which bounced off Kestrel’s shield.

  “Lucretia, return,” Kestrel called as he stood. He threw the knife at one of the disappearing horsemen, and wished that he had brought a bow and arrows with him after all. He picked up the sword that his former adversary had dropped.

  “Go get in the house, Marlin, and take the lady with you,” he told the shaking servant who still knelt on the ground. The man looked at him and jumped up, then sprinted towards the door of the house. As he did, a bowman fired an arrow at him, but Kestrel extended his shield to his right, and intercepted the shaft before it struck its target.

  Grimly, he pointed a finger at the bowman and fired a shaft of energy that struck the man in the chest, knocking him off his horse as it set fire to the front of his cape.

  ‘Lucretia, return,” Kestrel called, and he walked towards the center of the barn yard, caught his knife, then threw it again at the other horseman who had tried to flee.

  “Everyone, off your horses now,” he ordered.

  Three of the guards immediately started to dismount, but another one spurred his horse directly towards Kestrel in an attempt to ride him down. Kestrel raised his blue shield, then lowered it again, delicately timing it so that the horse’s head passed safely, but the rider was flattened against the shield and thrown backwards off the horse.

  There was a twang of an arrow, and Kestrel felt a terrible pressure in his back, as an arrow struck him in the shoulder blade; the shaft hit directly on his bone, then miraculously glanced away, leaving a bloody score across Kestrel’s flesh. He turned, and fired a number of bolts of his blue energy at the men behind him, striking them all dead.

  He fell to his knees again, and looked at the half dozen of Fields’ men who remained alive.

  “I’ll either have your complete surrender right now, or I’ll kill you,” he told them, as he grimaced in pain. “Which will it be? Lie face down in the dirt if you surrender,” he ordered.

  None of the men hesitated, as they all quickly assumed a prone position in the yard.

  “Marlin!” Kestrel shouted. “Marlin!” He felt too battered to do much more on his own. His shoulder was in terrible pain, and his arm was hot agony. He felt the stress of having used his energies so intensely in such a short period of time. “Lucretia!” he called the knife to return again.

  “My lord?” the trembling house servant approached him as he knelt in the dirt.

  “Go take their weapons – all their weapons, every weapon any one of them has, and bring all the weapons to me,” Kestrel told the man. Marlin was a middle-aged man of slight build, a man with only a fringe of hair around his scalp, and a demeanor that was timid. The warlike assignment was one that the man was ill-suited for, but Kestrel had no one else to appoint.

  Marlin took five trips back and forth, but eventually placed the pile of weapons next to Kestrel. “Help me stand up,” Kestrel told him, and Marlin placed his arm carefully around Kestrel to help raise him to his feet.

  “Now, all of you stand up, get in the wagon, and drive out to the road. When you get there, go north. I want you to leave Uniontown, and never come back. Never send word of what happened here. Never make contact with Duke Fields, or any of his people. Do you understand?” he asked in a serious tone.

  The men all nodded their heads.

  “I will let you live, if you never reveal what has just happened. Now, get in the wagon, and go,” he urged. The men scrambled across the yard and climbed aboard the partially-filled vehicle. One of them picked up the reins and flicked them energetically, setting the horses in motion. The wagon rattled its way out of the yard and around the corner of the elegant manor house.

  “Marlin, go make sure they headed north. If they went south, come back and tell me,” Kestrel instructed the man who he leaned on.

  “Will you be okay without me here?” Marlin asked fretfully.

  “I’ve got my staff to lean on,” Kestrel assured him. “You just hurry out there and make sure those ruffians are following directions,” he ordered.

  Marlin untangled himself and took off running, as Kestrel propped himself up with his walking staff.

  “Sir lord,” the lady of the chateau, the Marquise Thuringa called. “Let us help you, sir lord elf.” She motioned to a pair of house maids, who looked at her with startled expressions, then ran from their observation point on the kitchen step to help Kestrel slowly hobble into the house.

  “Let us help you back up to the bedroom and put you to bed there,” the Marquise suggested.

  “Is there a doctor in the area who can look at my wound?” Kestrel asked.

  “Not a proper doctor,” the Marquise replied. “The war has upset everything in society.”

  “There’s the village woman,” one of the maids spoke up.

  The Marquise gave the girl a withering look.

  “I just need someone to look at my back, where the arrow struck me,” Kestrel said. “And maybe look at my arm as well.”

  The pain and the excitement were catching up with him. He felt a sudden dizziness come over him.

  “Sir lord elf, are you alright? You look pale?” he heard one of the maids say, and then he heard nothing more, as he passed out.

  Chapter 16

  When Kestrel awoke, one of the maids was sitting demurely in a chair in his bedroom. She was knitting material, but looked up when he stirred, then set her knitting aside.

  “Sir lord elf, are you feeling alright?” she asked.

  Kestrel had his
eyes open, and he was looking around the room. He was back in the same room he had healed in before. There was a heavy piece of linen wrapped around his shoulder, and his arm was in a fresh splint.

  “How long have I been here?” he asked, looking up at the girl’s face as she stood next to his bed.

  “Just the one day, don’t you know,” the maid answered. “You were injured yesterday, when you chased those raiders from Duke Fields away.

  “We had a bit of a feast yesterday to celebrate. They left more than half the tribute food behind, much more than half,” she said. “We won’t go hungry this spring!

  “Unless they come back,” she added soberly after a moment’s reflection.

  “You’ll just have to tell them you already paid the tribute,” Kestrel grinned at the girl.

  “They won’t know, will they?” she asked in wonderment.

  “They’ll know they didn’t get it, but you can say that their collectors took it and ran,” Kestrel agreed. “That’s if they send any more out to collect. With any luck, maybe we can prevent Duke Fields from doing that.”

  “Are you really the Destroyer?” the girl leaned in closer and asked. “That’s what most of the household staff says. You’ve got the purple eyes, and all that,” her voice trailed off with the anxious question.

  “I never called myself that,” Kestrel said evasively.

  “Here now girl, you leave him alone. Let him rest,” Marlin’s voice called from the doorway.

  The girl straightened up, and winked silently at Kestrel, then went to her seat and picked up her knitting.

  “He just woke up a moment ago,” she said, then she bustled out the door past Marlin, who entered the room.

  “Well, we did it. Those scoundrels turned north and went flying up the river road yesterday,” Marlin announced.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked in a less self-important tone, one that conveyed real concern.

  “I do feel better,” Kestrel agreed. His shoulder was sore, but not agonizingly, and his arm felt marginally better than it had the day before. He was healing up. “Whoever tended me did a good job.”

  “The kitchen help went to the village and brought the local midwife in to look at you,” Marlin sounded embarrassed as he announced the midwife’s title. “She was pretty impressed by having an elf as a patient to tend.”

  “I’d like to get on the road south. I still need to make my appointment with my friend,” Kestrel said.

  “Let me bring her ladyship in to talk to you,” Marlin replied, and he disappeared down the hall.

  Kestrel cautiously raised himself to a sitting position, and was pleased to find that he remained dressed below the waist in this occasion, so he was not as embarrassed when Marquise Thuringa appeared two minutes later.

  “You wish to head to Uniontown, already, despite your injuries?” she asked as she stood in the doorway.

  “I do,” Kestrel nodded.

  “You are the Destroyer?” the lady asked him.

  “That is what I have been called in Uniontown,” he acknowledged.

  “You are going to meet a friend you say, but the rumors said that you would come to help Duke Listay. Why are you here?” she grilled him intently.

  “I met the Duke’s daughter, Lark, some months ago, and I promised her that I would help her father,” Kestrel answered. “Now I hear that she is captive to Duke Fields.

  “I am on my way to rescue her, and to help her father,” he saw no reason to hide that truth from the lady.

  “What are your intentions towards the Duke’s daughter?” Thuringa asked cautiously.

  “I,” Kestrel paused, not ready for the probing question. “I don’t know. It depends on her. It remains to be seen.” He didn’t know how to answer.

  The Marquise smiled gently. “I can help you go to Uniontown without trouble along the way, but I ask that you do a favor for me in return,” she said.

  Kestrel sat in momentary silence, digesting the surprising statement.

  “My husband, the Marquis, is being held as a hostage of Count Grilt, an ally of Duke Fields,” she explained.

  “And you want me to set him free? I certainly will try, if I can,” Kestrel assured her.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied. “But I can provide a way for you to travel to Uniontown comfortably, and discreetly,” she told him.

  “Now that I know your intentions are set upon Listay’s daughter, I would offer to make an arrangement for you to travel to Uniontown with Langravine Gail, the young widow of Langrave Charles, from the estate next to ours,” she explained.

  “You can go as her bodyguard. She has a powerful aunt in the city she can stay with. You’ll be able to go to the city comfortably, and you’ll have someone who can go about and ask questions for you. And Gail will have someone to protect her – goodness, I know you can protect her from anything or anyone!” the noblewoman told him.

  “Why is she going to the city?” Kestrel asked, curious. The proposal made sense to him, but he wanted to know more.

  “She’s just about to end her mourning year, and the poor thing deserves a chance to leave her estate and see people. She’s young enough that she needs to put her dead husband behind her and live her life going forward as best she can, considering,” Thuringa answered hesitantly. “Her aunt is her estate trustee, and has summoned her to Uniontown to sign papers regarding the estate, provided she can find safe passage.

  “She can move about the city with her aunt, and find out where my husband is, as well as find out where your lovely Lark is,” she pointed out. “She’ll be your eyes and ears, without you going out in public.”

  “I’ll do it,” Kestrel made the snap decision. “If she doesn’t mind having an elf travel with her, I’ll go. It’s up to her. Otherwise, I’m going to go on my own as quickly as possible.”

  “You just sit back and take it easy. I’ll go jot a note and send it right over to her estate. We’ll have an answer by tonight or tomorrow,” the woman told him soothingly. “She won’t mind an elf, considering,” her voice trailed off.

  “Marlin!” she shouted for her house servant. “Marlin, put your running boots on! I have an urgent mission for you,” she called loudly, as she turned from Kestrel’s door way, and then disappeared down the hall.

  Minutes later, she was back in his room and walked over to his window. “Come here and look,” she pointed through the window. “There goes Marlin, delivering my note to the young lady.” Kestrel looked out the window, and saw the man gingerly stepping through the muddy pasture that lay southeast of the estate manor.

  “He’ll be back with the reply in no time,” she said confidently.

  He did in fact return that evening, not long after nightfall.

  “She says she’ll be ready to go tomorrow!” Thuringa told Kestrel as the two of them sat in a parlor near a fireplace. Marlin stood nearby after having directly delivered the reply note to the Marquise.

  “I told her that Kestrel was a fearless fighter, and a great sorcerer,” Marlin said supportively. “I told her she’d be completely safe if she traveled with him.”

  “I told her many encouraging things too,” Thuringa confirmed. “Well, first thing in the morning, we’ll have Coplin take the carriage over to her estate and fetch her back here, then you can climb on board and the two of you will be off,” she declared. “That worked out so well.

  “And the carriage will be in Uniontown to carry the Marquise directly back here as soon as you rescue him!” She was pleased with the plan she had developed. “Now, you go upstairs and get a good night’s sleep,” she ordered Kestrel.

  He followed her command, and went upstairs, but it took a long time for him to fall soundly asleep, as he felt the pain of his injuries, and imagined the things to come ahead in the next few days. He was on his way to Uniontown, and he felt it with a surety he hadn’t felt before. Marquise Thuringa was providing him with a means of reaching Uniontown that seemed perfectly suited for him – it provided a c
omfortable means for him to rest and heal while he traveled speedily upon the carriage, and it gave him the cover of the Langravine to gather information in the city. The Marquise had done him a huge favor, though he had already done her a huge favor by stopping the forces from Duke Fields from confiscating her goods, and he promised to do another even more important favor by rescuing her husband from his captivity.

  “Kestrel, wake up my lord,” he suddenly heard Marlin speaking. He opened his eyes and found that dawn’s light was growing, the day was breaking, and the sleep he hadn’t realized he had fallen into was ending. “The coach is pulling out now,” the butler said, to the background sound of a carriage and horses traveling away. “They’ll be back in an hour or so with,” he paused, and cleared his throat, “with the young lady,” he said.

  “Now pack up and come on down to the kitchen to eat one of Cook’s omelets – you won’t get it’s like anywhere between here and the city,” he said, then left the room.

  Minutes later, Kestrel stepped down into the kitchen, and found a hearty meal on a plate, waiting for his arrival. He ate the meal, then took his belongings and sat by the door, waiting for the carriage to return. Within half an hour, the sound of the carriage approached the manor.

  The lady of the manor joined him at the door, along with Marlin.

  “Marlin, you strap his pack on the back,” Thuringa ordered. “Kestrel, you climb up on the box and ride with the driver today, to keep a look out for trouble. Gail will ride in the carriage.

  “When you arrive at your stop tonight, probably at the inn at Northporte,” she looked at Coplin, the carriage driver, to emphasize her expectation, “I want you to give this note to Gail,” she handed an envelope to Kestrel.

  “Now climb up there,” she insisted, and Kestrel obediently, though awkwardly stepped up and sat upon the bench atop the front of the carriage. He heard Thuringa open the coach door, and speak in a low voice to the occupant, then close the door.