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

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A Marriage of Friends (The Inner Seas Kingdoms Book 8) Page 22

by Jeffrey Quyle

“So tell me about your home,” she repeated.

  “There are lots of trees, tall trees, and many small villages, but only one large city, and it’s not so large as Uniontown,” he told her.

  “What about your house? What does it look like?” she narrowed the scope of her question as she sipped the wine.

  “It’s nice, and large,” Kestrel replied. “I’ve only lived there a couple of years, and I’ve mostly been traveling in that time, so I haven’t spent much time there. It’s in the southern part of the Forest, not too far from one of the human lands. We’re starting to trade with the humans, as a matter of fact,” he told her.

  “Why do you do so much traveling?” she asked him.

  Kestrel picked up his wine glass, as he considered how to answer the question. He took a sip of the red liquid, then answered.

  “I’m asked to. Different things happen, and different things need to be fixed. I know how to work with elves and how to work with humans, and even how to work with gnomes, so I can work on some things that not many other people can,” he chose his words carefully.

  “And what about those powers, that thing you did to the man in the hotel? Is that why you get chosen to do things? You can do things that no one else can?” she pressed him.

  “I’m still learning how to do those things, how to control that power. That wasn’t really something I expected up until the last year or so,” he told her.

  “Can anyone do things like you?” Gail took another sip, then picked up a bite of beef.

  “No, not many,” Kestrel told her. “Enough about me. What about you?” he asked as he took a drink of wine. His glass was empty, he found to his surprise. He poured more for himself, then more for her.

  “I was born to a very good family from the south, but I had this red hair,” she smoothed her tresses. “My mom used to dye it black every day, for a long time. But one day when I was a teenager, I was swimming in a river with friends, and the dye washed away, for some reason.

  “After that, everything changed. Only one of my friends would still see me. I spent most of my time inside our house, away from everyone.

  “The only good thing was that I didn’t have to submit to having my hair dyed every day,” she smiled bleakly.

  “It’s ridiculous!” Kestrel burst out. “Your hair is fine – it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. There should be men beating down your door seeking your hand.”

  She laughed a small laugh. “That’s not the world I live in,” she said.

  “My mother was despondent, but fate intervened, and she matched me up with a blind man, Charles, the Margrave of Lower Willstrom,” she finished her glass of wine. Kestrel poured more. “He was a very kind man, and he didn’t care what color my hair was.

  “My mother was so happy when I got married. There were so many troubles in the world, with the Viathins, well, you know about that,” she told him, as he chewed on a piece of bread. “So to have something work out made her happy.

  “But then she passed away, and then Charles passed away, and my aunt in Uniontown more or less runs my life, it seems. But she seems to be doing a good job. She says I have ‘prospects’ and so I’m on my way to see her,” Gail explained.

  “Prospects means a suitor?” Kestrel asked cautiously.

  Gail lowered her eyes, then looked up. “I believe it does,” she agreed.

  Kestrel thought. If anyone asked him, would he be able to say he had prospects, or would he simply say he had an acquaintance. He looked forward to seeing Lark to find out.

  They lapsed into silence then as they ate their meal.

  “So how did you get those powers?” Gail asked again a few minutes later. “You never explained.”

  “My father was a god,” Kestrel let it slip, under the influence of the wine.

  She stared at him, open-mouthed.

  “Don’t tell anyone!” he added. “I didn’t mean to tell. I just said it before I thought.”

  “Your father is a god? An elven god?” Gail asked in shock. “Have you met him?”

  “Only recently,” Kestrel told her.

  “You’ve met a god?” she was completely baffled by the revelation.

  Kestrel stared at her. He sensed that the truth of his relationship with multiple gods was beyond her capacity to comprehend.

  “Please, keep this quiet. Most people don’t believe it,” he told her.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Gail said without thinking.

  The serving girl opened the door. “Is there anything you need?” She asked, then stared in confusion as she saw her two customers – a red head and an elf.

  “Switch me again!” she muttered, then shut the door.

  “Oh dear!” Gail said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Kestrel said complacently. “But perhaps we should head up to our rooms.” He felt the mellow glow of the wine, and didn’t foresee any problems because an innkeeping maid had seen him as an elf or Gail as a redhead.

  Gail placed her hat back on her head and began to wrap her veils around it, as Kestrel stood up. There was a sound at the door, and he pulled his hood up over his head for prudence’s sake.

  “What’s going on in here?” a man’s voice asked gruffly. Kestrel turned, and saw a pair of men standing in the open doorway, with the serving girl in their shadows in the hallway behind.

  “We’re just finishing dinner,” Kestrel said. “The meal was good, thank you.”

  “What kind of people are you? We run a respectable place here!” the man who spoke was clearly not satisfied with Kestrel’s answer.

  “We’re not hungry people now,” Kestrel sensed that trouble was not going to be avoided. The man seemed determined to be confrontational.

  “We’re on our way up to our rooms now,” he added, hoping to see the encounter come to an end.

  “There’re not rooms for you. We don’t want your kind here; there’s enough problems in the world without being known as the place where the likes of you stay. You’ll need to pack up and move out, immediately,” the man delivered an ultimatum.

  “My lord,” Gail spoke up, her veiling complete, “it’s so late now, we’ll not have a good passage to any other lodging. Won’t you please reconsider?”

  “No reconsidering. Now get out, or I’ll have your things thrown out,” he said.

  Kestrel was incensed at the injustice of the situation.

  He stepped closer to the man, and saw him raise the cudgel he held in his hand, as the second man stepped apart and changed his grip on his cudgel as well.

  Kestrel had no sword, no staff, no bow – only his wonderful, enchanted knife. And he had his powers.

  “Look at me,” Kestrel said. He pulled his hood down, exposing his ears and his eyes. “Look closely – do you know who I am?”

  He called on his powers, and caused a glowing blue shield to appear in front of him, then formed a blue energy sword in his hand.

  The girl in the hallway screamed. The main antagonist swung his cudgel mightily at Kestrel’s shield, but the blow ineffectively bounced off. The other man swung his wooden club at Kestrel’s unprotected side, but the elf swung his glowing sword and sliced the cudgel cleanly into two pieces.

  “I am not here to do you any harm, but I will,” Kestrel said in the most menacing voice he could muster. He saw the fear on the faces of the two men. “I would like to sleep peacefully in this inn tonight, but we can do otherwise if you insist.

  “What is your choice?” he asked.

  “Gods above, it’s the Destroyer,” one of the men spoke in a fearful voice.

  “Will you allow this lady and me to have a quiet night, and peaceful departure, or will we do battle?” Kestrel was ready to fight the men. He felt no patience with prejudice and foolish behavior.

  “Yes, my lord,” the first man replied. “As you wish.”

  “And apologize to the lady,” Kestrel added as an afterthought.

  Both the men bowed to G
ail immediately. “We are sorry for the trouble, my lady,” they both said.

  “Now, leave us. We’ll go unescorted to our rooms, and we’re not to be disturbed,” Kestrel decided to put the scene to an end.

  The men scrambled up from their lowly positions, and disappeared down the hall, behind the fast-treading feet of the serving girl.

  “Oh my lord!” Gail’s breath exploded outward. “I don’t know whether to be jubilant, or embarrassed,” she said.

  Kestrel held the door open, and the Langravine walked through.

  “What will they do in the morning?” she asked him as he joined her in the hallway.

  “I worry about what they’ll do tonight,” he answered.

  She turned her head to look at him fearfully. “Do you believe that someone might attack our rooms while we sleep tonight? Are we safe? Should we have Coplin drive us away right now?”

  “No,” Kestrel told her as they walked down the hall. They could hear distant murmurs from the stairwell, but nothing nearby. “You go to your room and go to sleep; don’t worry. I’ll stay awake on guard.”

  “But then you’ll be exhausted!” Gail protested.

  “I can sleep in the carriage tomorrow,” he brushed her protest aside.

  “This isn’t fair!” she didn’t want to accept his sacrifice.

  “It’s not important,” he assured her as they reached the door to her room. “You go to sleep now; I’ll get some sleep tomorrow,” he assured her. He settled into a spot on the floor of the hall outside her room, once her door closed, and he pulled his hood down; he had no reason to hide his appearance any longer, and the hood diminished his field of vision.

  Other people cautiously walked at the distant end of the hallway as Kestrel sat and watched over the course of the evening. He let his imagination go free to think about the world outside the walls, where so many of his friends had lived their lives without interruption while he had journeyed through the southern wilderness, the land of the Skyes, and then fought the war in the Eastern Forest.

  He thought of his daughter, Merea, living in Seafare with her mother, undoubtedly bigger than when he had seen her last, perhaps even walking on her own. In another year or so she would perhaps be old enough to visit him in the Eastern Forest, if Picco would allow. He thought she would, especially if the travel took place courtesy of the imps.

  And perhaps Kestrel would have a mate, Lark, to introduce to Merea. It was quite a dream of domestic bliss he envisioned – a quiet life in Oaktown, the manor restored and comfortable, journeys out to villages of the Marches to visit and heal the residents.

  “My lord?” he heard a voice, and looked up to see Coplin standing over him. He must have closed his eyes, and dozed during the evening.

  “I recommend we leave now, my lord,” the coachman said. “There’s bad talk in the kitchen, and we can outrun the trouble if we go as fast as we can.”

  Kestrel rose to his feet. “Go get the coach ready, and I’ll wake the lady.”

  He turned to the door and knocked, as Coplin walked rapidly away. There was no answer, so he knocked again. “My lady? Langravine?” he called.

  There was no answer, so he rattled the doorknob, then opened it cautiously. The room was chilly. The window was open, he realized. And Gail’s bed was empty.

  Kestrel ran to the window and looked out. There was an alleyway outside, and no sign of Gail or anyone else.

  Anger erupted in Kestrel’s soul. He turned away from the window, and returned to the hall. He called his power to the fore, grasping a ball of glowing blue energy in his hand as he strode down the hall. He thundered down the hall, and passed through the empty dining room to get to the kitchen, where a cook was preparing the morning bread.

  “Where is she?” Kestrel shouted.

  “My lord? Great gods, an elf!” the man shouted in astonishment.

  “My friend was taken from her room – where is she?” Kestrel shouted.

  “I don’t know,” the man looked fearfully at the glowing ball in Kestrel’s hand.

  “Who does?” Kestrel asked, taking a step closer to him.

  “The innkeeper, my lord!” the cook replied immediately.

  “Where? Where is he?” Kestrel asked.

  “His room is in the back,” the cook said.

  Kestrel turned and left the kitchen. He heard the sound of the coach pulling around to the front of the inn as he turned towards a back hallway. He saw a pair of doors, then heard a muffled noise behind one. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open, and saw two men and two women bent over a table, where a woman was struggling, her head obscured by the others surrounding her.

  “Where is Gail?” Kestrel stormed.

  “Kestrel!” her voice called out in panic from the far end of the table.

  Kestrel felt his anger slip beyond his control. He took his glowing ball of energy and hurled it at the floor of the room, in the vicinity of the feet of the people who were torturing Gail. The bright energy flowed like a liquid across the floor beneath the people, and then, as Kestrel raised his hands up into the air, the blue glow flew upward, lifting the foursome in a quick burst that made them scream as they were instantly pinned against the ceiling of the chamber.

  “Oh Kestrel!” Gail cried as she sat up.

  Kestrel stared at her. Shears sat on the table beside her head, dropped by their user, and a few long strands of hair from one side of her head lay on the table top, clipped away from her scalp.

  Kestrel rushed over to her. He grabbed her hands and pulled her into an upright position.

  “Are you alright?” he asked anxiously, as he looked her over, looking for any signs of other injury that might have been inflicted on her.

  “Oh Kestrel, they came and grabbed me and took me!” she was angry, not scared, he was glad to see. “They were going to shave all the red hair off me, even my eyebrows, they told me. Look at what they’ve done!” she picked up one of the tresses of hair.

  “The carriage is out front. Go get your things and climb in. Go now,” Kestrel told her, gently pulling her to the edge of the table.

  “What about you?” Gail asked, staring at him as her feet touched the floor.

  “I’ll be along in a little bit,” Kestrel looked up at the people who were plastered against the ceiling, pinned so tightly they could barely move. They squirmed frantically, to little avail.

  “What are you going to do?” Gail asked.

  “You go,” Kestrel said gently. “Go,” he gave her a gentle push.

  “Don’t, don’t do anything wrong,” she told him. “Please Kestrel. I don’t want to think of you like that.”

  “Go now – hurry. This will be fine,” he assured her. “And grab my bag from my room too.”

  She stared at him intently, then ran out the door, heedless of her unveiled visibility. Kestrel heard her feet hit the stairs and go running up, then he turned and looked up at the others in the room.

  “What you have done is wrong, and you need to learn. I will teach you a lesson,” he told them. He motioned with his hands, and the blue boundary began to slowly drop downward.

  “All of you on your knees,” Kestrel ordered when they touched the floor.

  “You are bullies, and monsters, and you do not deserve to live,” he told them sternly.

  “My lord, Great Destroyer, spare us please. We did no real harm to the girl. We weren’t going to hurt her,” the innkeeper beseeched.

  Kestrel raised his hand, and pointed it at the group. He heard the sound of Gail as she thundered down the stairs, then ran to the door.

  “I will not harm you,” Kestrel agreed. “I’ll merely let you learn the wrong you’ve been doing. You and every resident of this village will learn how wrong it is to mistreat a person because of their looks.

  “Here,” he clapped his hands together, not entirely sure of what he was doing, but following his intuition that it would work. There was a blindingly bright flash of light that exploded out from his hands in a wave. Th
e bright light filled the room, then flew unhindered through the walls and into the rest of the inn. It continued to expand out in a matter of seconds, and flew across the entire settlement, leaving every occupant blinking blindly for several seconds.

  He reached over and picked up several strands of the long red hair that remained on the table. He wrapped it around his finger, then put the tress in his pocket.

  “Now,” Kestrel said to the four in the back room, as he started to walk away. “Now you’ll see what a mistake you made by attacking the Langravine.” He passed through the doorway of the room and into the hall, his victims still temporarily blinded by the eruption of power.

  “Take us out of here, Coplin,” he called up to the driver on the bench as he opened the door to the passenger compartment, then climbed in.

  Gail looked at him uncertainly, as he grimly settled into his seat. The coach suddenly gave a start, Gail dropped backwards as Kestrel lurched forward, and then a distant wailing arose from the interior of the inn they were leaving.

  Kestrel felt Gail’s eyes examining him intensely. He felt weary – tired of the battle, tired of the prejudice, physically tired from the night of so little sleep. He slouched back into a corner.

  “I didn’t hurt them,” he said as he pulled his hood up over his head to shield his eyes and his face.

  “At least, I didn’t physically hurt them, I don’t feel,” he added.

  “What did you do?” Gail asked.

  “I gave them all red hair,” he smiled to himself. “Everyone who lives in the town. They’ve all got red hair. They’ll all have red hair for the rest of their lives.”

  Gail was silent, then she gave a low chortle, then she gave a loud, infectious laugh.

  “That is perfect! I could kiss you, if I weren’t on my way to perhaps be engaged,” she told him.

  “And I would gladly accept your kiss if I weren’t on the way to perhaps meet my future wife,” he replied.

  Chapter 19

  “You’re going to be engaged, you say?” Kestrel asked a moment later. The girl’s statement was more affirmative than her words the night before. Given what he’d seen and learned about the Uniontown prejudice against Gail’s auburn hair, the stronger claim of an engagement was surprising.

 

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