The line of escapees struck the remaining members of the red squad who were stretched across the southern road, and the sound of sword play broke loose. Stillwater suddenly dove down out of the sky, holding a sharpened stick, and speared a Uniontown warrior in the shoulder, then flew upward, leaving his weapon embedded in the screaming man’s flesh.
Woven was firing stones with his gnomish strength and accuracy, knocking men unconscious, while Wren and Kestrel wielded their staffs alongside the humans.
“We’re through! They’re running!” one of the humans shouted, as the Uniontown forces disengaged and ran into the forest on either side of the road.
“Go south! We have to go south,” Kestrel said urgently to Stuart.
“My lady, I recommend we do as he suggests,” Stuart said to Lark, who held a sword, but had remained out of the conflict.
“We’ll go along with him for now,” the girl agreed.
“Form up in square, the lady in the center. Move forward in good order,” Stuart shouted out.
“We’ll hold the next attack off,” Kestrel said, motioning towards Wren and himself, “then we’ll catch up.”
Stuart nodded, and the humans departed.
Woven came trotting forward, passing through the humans without concern, as Kestrel and Wren plucked arrows out of the fallen soldiers around them. Stillwater came floating down as well, and the group of intrepid travelers were reunited for the first time since crossing the Dangueax River.
“My greatest apologies, friend Kestrel,” Stillwater spoke abjectly. “I am so sorry that I did not track you this morning. I did not realize there were such enemies awaiting us already over here,” he said. Kestrel could see that the imp was nearly in tears, so riven with guilt was he.
“Don’t worry, Stillwater, my good friend,” Kestrel said. He looked at the cautiously approaching Uniontown forces in red. They were within range of his bow.
He nodded to Wren, and they both notched arrows, which they let fly at their opponents, while Woven heaved a pair of fist-sized rocks as well.
“Go get another stick to use as a spear,” Kestrel advised Stillwater.
A volley of arrows was unleashed by the Uniontown army, and the three terrestrial travelers began to back up. Kestrel threw Lucretia at one of the advancing men, then he and Wren and Woven began to trot away.
“Lucretia, return,” he said a few seconds later.
“What are your plans for the humans?” Wren asked in gnomish as they moved along, the Duke’s forces coming back into sight while the three of them rounded a curve in the road.
“There’s no plan. I just discovered them fighting and losing to a bigger force, so I tried to help. It turns out I’ve met some of them before, in Uniontown, when I rescued Moorin,” He said. “The girl is a Duke’s daughter, and the others are her guards.”
“There you go, another pretty human for you to woo,” Wren said in elvish as they rejoined the squad under Stuart’s command. “Though she might be a tad young for you.”
“And slightly disinclined to like me,” Kestrel laughed. “She’s the one who slapped this on my cheek,” he pointed at the bruise Wren had noticed earlier.
“Do you think being slapped is funny?” Lark asked, hearing his laughter as she saw Kestrel’s motion to his cheek, though she didn’t understand the elvish the two cousins spoke.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he answered, not wanting to get drawn into a fight with the girl in the midst of their flight.
“What manner of journey are you on, that you have gnomes and elves and even a sprite together?” Stuart asked.
“He’s an imp, not a sprite,” Kestrel corrected the man. “We’re trying to correct the problem the monster mentioned back at our battle – we want to restore the water skin, the device that should have kept the Viathins from returning to our land after they were all killed last winter,” he explained. “And tell us, why is a nobleman’s child out here in the wilderness with a light escort?”
“I’m not a child!” Lark exclaimed.
“We were part of a larger group, escorting her ladyship to her father’s mountain keep for safety, but we were ambushed and forced far west,” Stuart answered. “We thought we would be able to work our way back east through the mountains, but we just got pushed farther and farther southwest.”
“How is the duke?” Kestrel asked cautiously. He’d met the man only briefly while in the royal palace in Uniontown, but in the short minutes they’d been together, Kestrel had instinctively liked the man. He had seemed fair, and seemed like a natural leader – he’d been better than Kestrel had expected to find amidst the evil in Uniontown.
“He’s fighting a losing battle,” Stuart’s voice was lower, as he tried to keep his words from Lark’s ears.
“Why? What’s happening?” Kestrel asked.
“After the monsters all died, there was a complete lack of authority in Uniontown. The king was taken prisoner by Duke Fields, who wanted the crown for himself. Duke Listay tried to set the king free, and another nobleman declared himself to be the king. Since then it’s been chaos. The duke and his son have been trying to protect the Listay interests, and the duke decided to put his daughter someplace safe,” the armsman explained.
“Safe from a couple of young noble bucks at the court that were sniffing around her, with her encouragement,” a voice in the squad anonymously said.
Lark scowled, Stuart grinned, and Kestrel realized there was truth to the humor.
“And then things started getting darker once again, as these creatures started creeping back into the city, spreading their evil, reviving the red coats that everyone had put away or burned,” Hermes spoke up, one of the other guards Kestrel vaguely remembered.
“I have to follow this road,” Kestrel told the humans. He felt impulsively compelled to explain to them what he had his partners were doing. “This road leads to the lake where the Viathins enter our world. I hope to restore the enchanted water skin there that makes the waters poisonous to them again, so that no more will come to our world.
“Then, perhaps your lives will be safer,” he said.
“How far is it to the lake?” Stuart asked.
“Perhaps a day and a half,” Kestrel judged.
“And may we travel with you?” the guardsman asked.
“No,” Lark said emphatically. “We don’t need to travel with him.”
“Kestrel, the men in red are infiltrating the forest on the west side of the road,” Stillwater said, floating back down to join the conversation after having scouted the location of the enemy.
“Stillwater, on my last journey here we found that we could climb up to the east and cut a loop off the road’s length. It was rugged country,” he looked around at the others, “but it’s a way to get off the road and out of sight.
“Will you go see if that’s possible again?” Kestrel asked. “And in the meantime, I suggest we all fade into the forest on the east side of the road to get out of sight.”
“Stuart, we should reverse course and go back towards my father’s mining castle,” Lark countered. “As the ranking noble person here, I command it to happen. We’ll be safer without him drawing trouble to us.”
“What are they arguing about?” Woven asked Wren. He had been unable to follow any of the conversation.
They heard noises coming up the road. “Everyone into the forest,” Stuart commanded his squad. “For now, my lady,” he tried to pacify Lark by saying. “We need to stay alive long enough to figure out how to get back to your father’s holdings. It’s not going to be easy from here.
“You’ve seen the good these warriors are capable of in battle,” he urged her to accept the alliance with Kestrel’s group. “We just need to get a bit of breathing space, and then we’ll take you to safety.”
The men in Stuart’s squad obligingly filtered out of sight and moved back among the trees, as did Kestrel and his group.
“What was the argument about?” Woven repeated his questi
on.
“The human woman has met Kestrel before, apparently, and she does not like him. She wants them to go a different way,” Wren said succinctly. “She is the daughter of an important village chief, and wants her way.”
“Cannot they see that you and I are reliable, even if Kestrel isn’t?” Woven asked.
“Give them time,” Wren counseled.
“What language do they speak?” Stuart asked Kestrel. “It sounds different from the language that she and you were speaking earlier.”
“That is the language of the gnomes; she and I were speaking in elvish earlier,” Kestrel answered. The two had settled in not far off the road, watching it to see whether they would be immediately pursued.
“She knows three languages – those of gnomes, elves, and humans? She is a scholar and a warrior?” Stuart asked, impressed.
Kestrel choked momentarily, amused at the idea of Wren being called a scholar. “Yes, she is,” he simply agreed. There was a flash of red on the road, and both men focused intently.
Despite the losses that the Uniontown forces had suffered, the surviving members of the two Uniontown units had apparently joined together, and over a score of men passed along the stretch of road that the forest observers could see. Some ventured a few steps into the forest and peered inward, but they did not penetrate far towards Kestrel’s location.
There was a sudden shout from the road, and the Uniontown forces ducked as Stillwater swooped low over them and speared one of them with a stick, then flew north above the road. The entire force in red turned and started running north in pursuit of the imp, so that the search moved away from the small band hidden in the forest.
“Bless you Stillwater!” Kestrel exclaimed softly.
“Your companion has given us some breathing room,” Stuart said.
“So does that mean we can go on our own way now?” Lark asked as she crept up behind the other two.
“Why don’t you wait until Stillwater returns and gives us a report on what he sees in the vicinity?” Kestrel suggested, as he saw the hesitation in Stuart’s eyes. The man was a canny warrior, and Kestrel saw that he clearly felt reluctance to take his small band out to try to independently fight its way towards Listay’s palace through such hostile territory. “There may be some information he can provide that will help you.”
Stuart looked at Kestrel gratefully. “He’s right; let’s wait until the imp returns,” Stuart said. “In the meantime, I’ll go check on our men,” he spoke as he stood up and walked away, leaving Lark and Kestrel alone, looking at one another.
“Your father seemed like a good man when I met him,” Kestrel told her after an awkward silence. “I hope he does well.”
“Thank you,” Lark said shortly. “He is good. He just doesn’t understand that I’m growing up,” she answered.
“You still look young,” Kestrel blurted out as he studied her. “Not as young as when I first saw you, but he’s a father, after all, and sees her younger.”
Kestrel thought of Mastrin, who had been his commander in Elmheng. It seemed so long ago after so many adventures in the intervening months and years; but Mastrin had been father to Cheryl, and Kestrel had always been acutely aware of the commander’s eyes watching Kestrel whenever he’d been with the pretty daughter.
“You don’t look any older than me!” Lark shot back. “Well, not much older,” she lamely amended her statement.
“He’s not as old as he is foolish,” Wren said, arriving and rescuing Kestrel from the conversation.
Stillwater came swooping down through the tree limbs and landed right next to Lark, startling the girl so that she edged sideways, until she bumped into Kestrel. She immediately adjusted herself away from the elf, and into an uncomfortable pose midway between the two foreign travelers.
“There are many small patrols to the south,” Stillwater reported. “There are only one or two to the north right now, and this road does switch back and reverse course once it starts to climb the mountainside,” he gave more information.
“What is the terrain like between here and reaching the road up above?” Wren asked.
“Rough, but passable, I believe,” Stillwater answered.
“That’s what I remember too, from my last trip this way,” Kestrel agreed. “Would we cut off the loop and avoid the patrols going that way?” he asked the imp.
“You’ll avoid one patrol definitely,” Stillwater agreed. “The one I just waylaid will soon reverse course and come back south searching for you, and probably alert the other patrol as well.”
“So if we’re going to go, we’d best do it quickly?” Wren asked.
“Would you all speak so that I understand?” Lark burst out heatedly. “Stop keeping secrets! I’m the daughter of the duke, and entitled to know!”
“And I’m the Warden of the Marches of the Eastern Forest, and Wren is engaged to the Duke of the Eastern Seashore of Graylee,” Kestrel snapped at the girl, “so your title puts you at exactly the bottom of the order here. We’re speaking in the language the imp speaks – if you don’t know it, that’s your problem, not ours.”
The girl’s eyes widened in surprise at Kestrel’s tone and her cheeks flushed, but she remained silent.
“I’ll go tell Stuart we’re moving up the mountain,” Kestrel did switch to the human language as he spoke to Wren. “You go inform Woven.” He pressed away from the group before the human girl could object, and found Stuart examining a wound in the shoulder of one of the human guards.
“Here, give him a small drink of this and drip a little of it on his wound; it’s water from a healing spring,” Kestrel said, handing his water skin over to Stuart as he peered at the open wound.
“We’re going to go straight up the mountainside to reach the road up above some of the Uniontown patrols,” he said. “We’re going to move out quickly.”
“The imp’s given you a report? What’s the road like heading back south?” the squad leader asked.
“Many small patrols,” Kestrel answered.
“It’ll be difficult to penetrate?” Stuart asked.
“That’s my guess,” Kestrel agreed.
“And how is the road to the north, where you’re going?” Stuart wanted more information.
“Fewer patrols,” Kestrel told him.
“Can we go north with you?” Stuart asked.
“You can,” Kestrel agreed. He hesitated, then concluded he had to tell Stuart more.
“I don’t know how my journey ends; it may not be good,” he said. “You heard the Viathin’s claim that Krusima is captive?” he asked.
“It’s nonsense,” Gates spoke up.
“Sadly, it’s true. There’s a cave up at the lake that leads to a different world, and that’s where Krusima and Morph – an elven god – are being held captive. I’m going to that world to rescue the gods,” Kestrel said.
“The elf is bloody insane,” the wounded man said as he took a drink from the skin full of water from the healing spring.
“You’re going through a cave to another world?” Stuart asked doubtfully.
“That’s how the Viathins got here. They find the paths between worlds, they’re like parasites – they just go from world to world, ravaging and sucking life away, and leaving the lands empty and desolate. They travel through these paths. I thought I had killed them all and sealed off their path to our world, but they’re back now, as your nation has seen,” Kestrel explained. “And two gods are captive; I must go rescue them if I can.”
“The elf is crazy,” someone in the squad said.
“Say what you will, I know what I am here to do. We’re going to go on our way now,” Kestrel said resolutely. He sensed that the humans were not going to join him, and he felt disappointed; he liked Stuart, and he wanted the extra fighting capability that the forces of Duke Listay would provide.
“Wren, Woven, Stillwater,” he called, then watched them all approach him.
“It’s time to be on our way,” he said as they
approached. Lark was still at the spot where Kestrel had left her, standing alone.
“We’ll not be joining you,” Stuart told him, as he took the water skin of healing water and handed it back to Kestrel. “Good luck; we’ll take our chances trying to go through the mountains and find our way to the Duke’s mines and palace.
“My lady,” he called, summoning Lark to join the group.
“These travelers are going to be on their way now; we’ll try to find our way back to your father’s castle,” Stuart told the young duchess.
Lark smiled, then spoke. “Thank you for your assistance,” she said to Kestrel. She held her hand out and shook his, then did the same with Wren. “Good luck in your journey,” she said.
“Perhaps we’ll meet again, some day,” Wren said. “Good luck to you as well.”
“Let’s go,” Kestrel said, and the foursome moved eastward, through the small band of green and yellow-clad guards, receiving murmured thanks and pats on their shoulders as they departed. They went for forty yards, then Kestrel looked back over his shoulder. Stuart was speaking to his closely-gathered group, while Lark was staring at Kestrel’s departed group.
“What just happened?” Woven asked.
“We’re going separate ways,” Kestrel answered. “We’re going to go to the lake to carry out our mission. The humans are going to try to sneak back to their lands where they’ll be safe.”
“Will they make it?” Woven asked.
Kestrel sighed. “I doubt it,” he admitted.
“Will we make it?” Woven wanted to know.
“I think we will. I think we’ll get to the lake and then we’ll see what happens.” Kestrel was worried that the Viathins now knew he was in the vicinity of the lake. His battle with the monster on the road had clearly announced his presence; his best hope for success was to now speed towards the lake and try to reach it before the Viathins managed to send defenders in such force that he would be stymied, but he left his concerns unspoken.
The group moved steadily up the stony terrain of the mountain. Woven was naturally at home among the stones and slopes and trees, while Stillwater flew just above the trees, or among their branches. Kestrel and Wren climbed and jumped and occasionally went up through the trees as they continually ascended.
An Unexpected Deity (Book 7) Page 11