“That’ll be good. It gives me the day to catch up on things. Lucius,” he motioned, and his son stepped over from a nearby crowded table, “and I have a social visit to make today, so it’ll allow us to clean up and prepare to have some important conversations.”
Lucius smiled at Kestrel. “I remember you saving our lives,” the young man said. He was familiar to Kestrel. Just like Lark, he had grown older since the last time Kestrel had seen him, but he was still recognizable.
“Have a seat, eat some warm food, and rest during the day. We’ll plan to join you on your mission tonight,” the duke told Kestrel. He stood up and walked up to Kestrel, shook his hand firmly as they stood together, then left the room with a small entourage following him.
Men gathered around Kestrel, as he went to get a plate of food, patting him on the back, making him wince as they pounded the still injured shoulder blade that he hoped would be healed someday soon. He ate the food and replied to the compliments and questions of the men in the room, then he went back up to the tower to relax.
He had seen Lucius. The boy was one of the suitors that Duchess Tyle was considering as a new husband for Gail. Kestrel told himself he’d have to speak to the boy about what a good person Gail was, and how much she deserved to be honored. Of course, after Kestrel had changed her hair color, she might find that Lucius and all the others could figure out her merits on their own.
And if, somehow, all the stars aligned properly, Lucius might marry Gail, while Kestrel might marry Lark, and he and Gail would end up as brother and sister-in-law, or something similar. The thought made him softly laugh out loud.
He rested as he napped throughout the day, then casually strolled around the fort, visiting portions that he hadn’t seen before. By early evening he felt in better physical shape than he had been in many days, and he was eager to go with the others to raid the country estate where Thuringa and the others were kept. It would be a significant blow to Fields’s reputation, as would Kestrel’s next planned raid to set Lark and Wren and Stillwater free.
But what he could do for Duke Listay beyond those two steps was less certain in his mind, as he contemplated the danger of trying to face the Triplets again, when they were likely to be better prepared to fight him.
Listay and Lucius, along with Gates and a dozen guards, were involved in the attack on Grilt’s estate. The attack was quick and easy. The only guards there to protect the estate were men used to beating unarmed prisoners, not fighting against trained men-of-war, and Kestrel used few of his powers to assist the uneven battle in the middle of the night. Afterwards, each of the newly liberated captive noblemen was given a wagon that was loaded with supplies, and they were sent on their ways back to their own homes, with one of Listay’s guards assigned to ride with them and provide security on their journeys.
As they walked back to Listay’s fortress, the duke strode over to Kestrel’s side.
“We discovered an extraordinary miracle today, my friend,” he said.
Kestrel looked at him. “Yes, my lord?”
“We visited the home of the Duchess Tyle,” the duke began, making Kestrel laugh softly.
“I don’t need to say any more, do I?” Listay asked in the darkness.
“About what, my lord?” Kestrel asked in a mocking tone.
“Very good, very good. So you approve of her, do you?” the nobleman asked.
“She is a wonderful person. She deserves to be treated like royalty,” Kestrel answered. “I’d be very sorry to hear that anyone had hurt her.”
“I’ll pass that along to Lucius,” Listay said.
“He’d do well to remember,” Kestrel said without humor.
“And what about the man who Lark chooses?” Listay asked.
“The same, of course. She deserves to be treated with respect,” Kestrel said, and they walked the rest of the way quietly, reaching their home just shortly before dawn.
Kestrel slept soundly until noon, when he was awoken by one of Listay’s guard’s knocking on the door of his tower room.
The man handed Kestrel a small, folded slip of paper. “This was just delivered for you,” the guard told him.
Kestrel opened the note quickly, and found a woman’s neat handwriting within.
My Lord Kestrel,
The Duchess Tyle requests the pleasure of discreetly meeting you at the Three Orchids restaurant at noon, in the private room on the south side.
Humbly Yours,
Tyle
“What time is it?” Kestrel asked, as he hastily pulled his clothes on and ran to the front entrance of the fortress.
“Nearly noon,” he was told.
“Is there a restaurant named the Three Orchids in the vicinity? How do I get there?” Kestrel pressed the questions quickly.
“It’s about a mile away, inland, towards the temple of Kai,” the guard at the door informed him. Kestrel slipped on his dark glasses, slipped out the door, and started immediately running with his elven speed to reach the restaurant in a timely fashion. He ran through the regular daily traffic, slipping around and dodging among the carts and vendors and travelers who filled the streets of Uniontown on a day when the sky was blue and the sun made it feel as warm as a day in spring. He left a wake of startled observers who were baffled by the unnaturally fast man with the hood and glasses who passed them by.
When he was a block away from the restaurant he slowed to a typical walking pace, and sauntered up to the door of an elegant establishment, one that he was surprised to see had survived the turmoil of the Viathin occupation and the subsequent civil war in Uniontown. The waiter showed him to a closed door, and Kestrel knocked, then was told to enter.
Inside, he found the Duchess was sitting alone, at a table set for two. He felt a momentary pang of disappointment; he had hoped and expected to find that Gail was along for the meal as well, but he hid his disappointment as he took Tyle’s hand.
“You were expecting someone else?” she shrewdly asked.
“I wanted to speak to you privately,” she said without waiting for an answer. She took her seat, and he took his, then they began to eat from the meal that waited.
“The change you made to Gail’s appearance – is it permanent?” the duchess asked.
“As permanent as her hair will be, until it turns gray,” Kestrel said with a smile.
“You did her a great favor, an enormous favor you know,” Tyle said.
“I wanted to set her free,” Kestrel said earnestly. “Free from fear and ridicule and isolation. She shouldn’t have to live the way she does, just because of her hair color.”
“She is in heaven. She is flaunting her hair right now. You may know that we received visitors yesterday,” the duchess said.
“Duke Listay and his son?” Kestrel confirmed.
“Indeed. They were quite taken with her appearance. She will also have other suitors now, I’m sure, if people believe that the hair color is real, and not a dye,” the noblewoman explained. “That’s why I had to ask.”
“I think the red hair was lovely,” Kestrel told her. “I miss that.”
“She would laugh to hear you say so,” Tyle said reflexively, “though I wonder if deep down she doesn’t feel the same.”
“Gail is very disappointed that you left so quickly. She wanted to thank you again. She wanted me to thank you that very night. After she awoke me to display her change, she dragged me to the cottage, only to find that you were gone,” the duchess said. “Why did you leave?”
“I felt sad,” Kestrel answered. “It shouldn’t have been needed. But it was the only way to make her happy that I knew.”
Their conversation turned to other topics.
“Duke Fields is reported to be extraordinarily angry, and very fearful as well,” Tyle told Kestrel. “You’ve beaten the Triplets.”
“I managed to battle them to a draw,” Kestrel corrected. “I didn’t win.”
“They aren’t of much use to Fields until they recover,” Tyle observed. “While you’
re out and about already. That scares him, I understand. And with good reason, it seems.
“So are you going to put Duke Listay on the throne?” she asked Kestrel.
He sat silently for a moment. “I’m going to set my friends free,” he answered. “And what happens after that depends on,” he paused, not quite ready to admit that his further actions would depend on what Lark had to say to him. “I’ll support the Duke and help even the fight against the Triplets,” he answered. “And we’ll see beyond that.”
“Well, the hour has passed, and I’m sure you have other miracles to perform,” the noble lady told Kestrel. She stood, and he stood as well.
“I expect you’ll stop by to visit us again soon,” she told him.
“Absolutely, my lady.” Kestrel agreed.
“Tell that Duke of yours to bring you along the next time he brings his son,” she added with a smile.
Kestrel smiled back, then bowed and left the room and the restaurant. The duchess’s carriage was patiently waiting for her out in the street, and Kestrel waved at it as he put his glasses back on, with his hood up, and casually walked back to the home of Duke Listay. It was a warm day, with the sunshine bringing many people out to enjoy the change from winter. Kestrel took his time as he strolled back through the city, observing the happiness on people’s faces, even in a city that had known conflict for so long. It made him content to know that he had taken on the task of coming to Uniontown, and had hopes of bringing a more peaceful life to the people eventually.
That afternoon he asked to speak to the duke, and was shown into a study where the nobleman and his son were going over papers with several staff members.
“I’d like to go set Lark free tonight,” Kestrel announced.
“We’ll put a raiding party together for you!” Lucius spoke up eagerly.
“How many men will you need?” the Duke asked in a more cautious tone.
“One,” Kestrel said simply.
The room stared at him dumbly.
“This will be a stealthy raid. I plan to steal the captives out from under Fields’s nose, not fight for them,” Kestrel announced. “Stuart or Gates will be enough for me.”
“I’ll go with the pup,” Stuart spoke up. “Gates can take a turn staying home.”
“He’ll be perfect for this,” Kestrel agreed.
“What’ll we do?” the guardsman asked.
“Let it be a surprise,” Kestrel grinned. “It’ll be like old times.”
He said no more, and remained in the fortress until after nightfall. “Let’s start now, and go slowly,” Kestrel said to Stuart as he looked up at the nearly full moon overhead. “I’d like for the moon to set or be behind clouds when we reach Fields’s base.”
They walked slowly, passing the ancient temple of Kai on their way.
“Has it been restored since the Viathins were driven out?” Kestrel asked about the building.
“It was cleaned out, but that’s all,” Stuart grunted.
“That’s too bad. When all of this is over, maybe we can do something to bring the goddess back here,” the elf said as he stood in front of the closed doors.
“You know we won’t have the gods back for a while, none of the gods,” Stuart reminded him.
“I know,” Kestrel agreed. “But it should only be a few more weeks at most until the year of the Rishiare Estelle ends, and then the gods can come among us again.
“And a good thing it’ll be to have their help if the Triplets are still at large,” he added.
They continued on, and reached the vicinity of Fields’s fort not long after.
“We need to get to a rooftop,” Kestrel said.
“What are we going to do?” Stuart asked. “You might as well tell me now.”
“Do you remember the bridge in the sky that Morph made, that we walked across for hours?” Kestrel asked. “I’m going to create one just like it, and we’re going to walk over to the roof of Fields’s fort. The prisoners are supposed to be held up in the top rooms, so we can quietly spirit them away and no one will know until the morning, when they’ll be safely back with us.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Stuart said dryly. “I don’t remember that any of us were particularly fond of that bridge in the first place. Are you going to be able to put a handrail on your bridge at least?” he asked.
Kestrel laughed at the notion.
“I’m serious,” Stuart said emphatically.
Kestrel cocked his head and looked at the man, then decided that he did truly mean it. He was a human, Kestrel remembered, unused to running along tree branches.
“I think I can make a railing,” he agreed.
They turned and found an empty building, then walked through the dark interior and climbed the stairs up to the roof top. Kestrel led the way to climb up onto an adjacent, higher roof, which allowed them to gain a clear view of the roof of Fields’s building. Down below Kestrel saw that there were sentries on patrol in the streets around the building. Two windows in the floor below the roof were lit, and Kestrel guessed that the prisoners, at least Lark and Wren, were held there. It would be the first place they would go when they reached the roof of the building.
He took a breath and released it then crouched down as he focused on the distance from the parapet of the roof to the parapet on Fields’s roof. He concentrated on removing the glow of his energy – it had to be dark and unseen from the ground. When he released it, the energy shot across the open space and reached the target, then sat firmly in place, suspended in the air. Kestrel unconsciously raised his hands and slowly spread them apart as he focused on widening the beam, turning it into a plank they could step on. With that finished, he focused once more, and pushed his hand outward, palm open, shooting the handrail above the walkway and locking it in place.
Kestrel rubbed his face, glad to have the chore complete. He stood and looked down, then up, then down again. The moon was unobscured and still high in the sky, casting bright light across the city. But none of the guards appeared to be looking upward, and he and Stuart were dressed in dark clothes anyway.
“Let’s go find our friends,” Kestrel said hoarsely, and he stepped up onto the barely visible dark bridge above the street.
The magical plank was spongy, not as sturdy as Morph’s bridge had been. Kestrel cautiously placed his second foot on the plank as well, then stood carefully still. As he stood, the lights went out in the rooms he expected to visit.
“What’s wrong?” Stuart whispered.
“Nothing,” Kestrel said quickly he stepped forward quickly, then ran lightly across the springy bridge, feeling the surface vibrate beneath his weight.
Stuart ran after him, gripping the rail tightly as he crossed the street chasm.
“Can’t you make it better?” he asked as soon as he stepped into the roof of Fields’ fortress.
“It got us over here, didn’t it?” Kestrel asked. “Now,” he looked around, and saw a doorway. “That must be the stairs down.
“You stay at the top, while I go down and find the girls. Shout if there’s trouble,” Kestrel briefly instructed. Stuart held his sword competently as he followed Kestrel to the door.
“Good luck,” he offered the wish to Kestrel, who slowly opened the door and peered down into the steep, dark staircase.
Kestrel’s elven vision saw no signs of movement or danger, and he lightly stepped down into the enclosure, and disappeared from Stuart’s weaker human eyesight. The stairs led to another door, where Kestrel heard no sounds or movement. He once again opened a door, then stepped into darkness. It was a hallway, a small, closed space, more suited for servants to walk in than the members of a noble household, Kestrel thought as he walked in the direction of the rooms that had been lit.
There were a row of doors on the outward side of the hallway, rooms that had windows looking out at the street.
Kestrel wasn’t sure which rooms had contained the lights that went out, and he hesitated to open any, for fear of raisi
ng an alarm. He pressed his head against one door that he thought had the right location to have been occupied, and he listened intently. There was someone breathing in the room, but nothing more was evident within. It was a chance he felt he needed to take; if it was one of the captives, it was good – if it was one of Fields’s people, he could quickly overcome them.
He slowly lifted the latch, and gently pressed the door open.
“Oh no you don’t, you filthy assailant!” an angry woman’s voice sounded behind him, and a wooden mallet struck him in the temple, knocking him out of the doorway and onto the floor of the hall.
He shook his head as he reached for his power and threw a glowing blue shield over himself while grabbing for his knife at the same time.
He looked up, in the hallway that was now brightly illuminated by the light from his shield, and he suddenly grinned. He released his hold on his powers, and put his knife away, then held his hand up.
“The least you can do is help me to my feet,” he told his cousin, who stood in bewilderment.
Kestrel?” she asked. She started to extend her hand, then realized it still held the wooden club she had used to knock him down. She switched hands, then grabbed his, and pulled him up to his feet, and into a rough embrace.
“Heavens above! Kestrel!” she said softly. “Kestrel! You’re alive! You’re here!
“Are you okay? Have you seen Creata?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen him since I returned. We’ll talk soon – I’m here to set you free!” he said. “Is this Lark’s room?” he asked.
“Let me go get her,” he said. “Stuart is up on the roof. Where is Stillwater held?” he asked.
“They keep the imp down in the dungeon – can you believe it? Isn’t that nasty of them?” she replied.
Kestrel frowned as he put his hand on the latch to Lark’s door; he was eager to get inside and see her.
“How many are in here? Can we go down and set him free?” Kestrel asked.
“How strong are you with that power?” she asked doubtfully.
“I’m strong,” he replied. “Do the Triplets stay here?”
A Marriage of Friends (The Inner Seas Kingdoms Book 8) Page 28