The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 01 - The Healing Spring

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “You made it an interesting day, but don’t go soft on me now; we’ve still got tomorrow to get through,” she answered. “Have fun tonight, but not too much fun!” she warned, then they parted ways. Kestrel went to his room and put on his clean shirt, having sweated profusely throughout the afternoon competitions, then fidgeted for a while until he decided to walk down to the meeting place. As he went down one set of steps he heard several pairs of feet walking along his hallway, but he continued on and arrived at the appointed location several minutes early.

  Lucretia arrived just a few minutes later, changed out of her uniform into a becoming outfit that Kestrel knew would make him the envy of every male elf who saw them together.

  “I imagine you don’t want others to overhear the rest of your story,” Lucretia commented as she took his arm and led him into town, “so I thought we could go back to the fair, get some food from the vendors, then wander off to a secluded bower where we won’t be interrupted.”

  Her plan made sense to Kestrel, so they began to stroll through the city again. “Where are you from?” Kestrel asked her as they walked.

  “I’m from a village out in the far eastern frontier of the kingdom. There are a few elven villages further east than we are, but not many,” she replied.

  “And what’s past that?” he asked.

  “Woods. Trees, forest. Emptiness. No one knows how far it goes on. They say there’s a great lake on the other side, but it would take weeks and weeks to get there; there is a story that centaurs live on the other side of the lake; folks believe it – that’s why we don’t like to ride horses, you know. We certainly don’t have any humans around our part of the Eastern Forest,” she told him with a sidelong glance, “or sprites or water imps or gnomes or yetis. Just elves…boring elves.”

  “Which is part of what makes you so interesting,” she added, glancing at him again. “How much human blood is in your veins? I’ve never seen anything but pictures of humans.”

  “My grandfather was human, but I never met him,” Kestrel said. “I came close to humans when I looked at the forest fire remains about a week ago.”

  “When was that?” Lucretia asked, as they arrived at the edge of the festive gathering.

  “That’s when my whole adventure began. I was on my way to Center Trunk with the report about the fire, to give to Colonel Silvan, when I met Dewberry and you’ve heard that part of the story already,” he answered.

  “You work for the spies?” she studied him with more than a sideways glance this time, and their stroll halted as they faced one another.

  Kestrel remembered the reference the guide had made the night before. He too had known Silvan was a spy.

  “I just carried a message to the colonel. I didn’t know he was a spy,” he answered.

  They began to walk again. “He’s not just a spy; he’s the head of the spies. He reports directly to the king when he wants to,” Lucretia said, as they reached a vendor’s tent where baked potato skins were filled with minced venison and herbs. Kestrel stood in line and bought two, while Lucretia bought two skins of fruit juice.

  “Follow me,” she spoke peremptorily, and began to dart through the crowd, then left the festival grounds and entered a seeming labyrinth of hedges and ornamental trees, until Lucretia ducked through a narrow gap between two bushes. Kestrel followed her in and found a cozy opening, about the size of a room, comfortably floored with a layer of soft, dry leaves, where Lucretia already sat, her legs extending off to one side as she patted a spot to indicate where he should sit next to her.

  They exchanged foodstuffs and said nothing for a minute as they each began to eat their food.

  “Okay,” Lucretia spoke first, “so you told me you were in your room when the sprite woke up and disappeared. What happened then?”

  And so Kestrel resumed his tale, telling of Dewberry’s reappearances and the confusion they had created for the poor innkeeper. “So she granted you three wishes?” Lucretia asked.

  “That’s sort of what she said,” Kestel agreed. He had finished his food, and lay comfortably on his back, and Lucretia lay on her stomach next to him. “But bringing the arrows to me today may have counted as one of those.”

  “It shouldn’t, not if you didn’t specifically ask her for them,” the elf maiden said emphatically.

  “What would you wish for if she could do anything you asked?” she asked.

  “I’d wish to look like everyone else,” Kestrel said.

  Oh no, you shouldn’t!” Lucretia said insistently. Kestrel heard others wandering among the bushes nearby, but as the sun began to set, he focused all his attention on the attractive girl beside him. “You do look different from everyone else, but that’s not bad,” she told him.

  “What would you wish for?” Kestrel asked her, as there was a disturbance in another bower nearby.

  “Adventure. Excitement. Something different. Life was so boring in my village that I came to Center Trunk to be in the Guard, but there’s still no great adventure here,” she answered. “Not even small adventures like meeting a sprite, not for me!

  “And not adventures like winning the princess’s colors in the archery competition tomorrow!” she added with a smile.

  There was filtered light nearby, noticeable in the increasing darkness, and as Lucretia and Kestrel drifted closer together in their conversation, as Kestrel was thinking vaguely of Cheryl while wondering if he was going to kiss Lucretia, as her hand reached up and touch his oversized ears, gently tracing the pattern of whorls in a way that was exciting, not embarrassing, the light approached their sheltered green nook. Their bushes began to flail, and then both of them sat up and shielded their eyes as a trio of lanterns, carried by men, came into their intimate, green nook.

  “Kestrel?” an elf’s voice sounded from behind one of the lanterns.

  Kestrel stood up, and gave his hand to Lucretia to help her up as well. “Who’s asking, and what are you doing here? How did you find us?” he asked.

  “Colonel Silvan asked that you come to his office immediately,” the voice said. Kestrel’s eyes were adjusting to the glare of the lanterns, and he could see the three guards who were holding them.

  “Immediately? Can’t this wait until the morning?” Kestrel asked in astoundment, his unexpectedly intimate evening with Lucretia apparently ended for no imaginable reason.

  “The colonel’s waiting for you. We’ll escort both of you back to the base,” Kestrel turned to look at Lucretia with unfeigned confusion, and saw an expression of the same incomprehension on her face.

  “Are you one of their spies?” she asked him. “I thought you told me you just carried a message to the colonel.”

  “That’s all I did,” Kestrel affirmed.

  “Let’s get moving please,” the spokesman for the trio of escorts suggested.

  Kestrel reached out for Lucretia’s hand and they squeezed their fingers together as they walked through the bushes, passing other couples who were also seeking privacy among the bushy environs, and who shied away from the harsh, bright lanterns.

  There was no conversation among the group as they crossed the festival grounds and walked across the city, though Kestrel and Lucretia held onto one another’s hand throughout the journey. When they reached the gates to the guard base, the escorts halted.

  “Miss, you’ll need to come with me for a brief conversation. Kestrel, we’ll take you up to the colonel’s office,” the spokesman said.

  “What is there to say to Lucretia? She should be free to go!” Kestrel said insistently, maneuvering his body between her and the three others, shocked at this new twist.

  “We mean her no harm, Kestrel,” one of the other agents spoke firmly. “We just have reason to believe that you have told her parts of your story that we believe should be kept very confidential for the sake of all parties involved. Lucretia will only have a few minutes to chat with us, and then she’ll be on her way.

  “You’ll go to the colonel, receive your nex
t assignment, and that’ll be that. There’s no sinister harm or plan,” he explained in a patient tone.

  Kestrel turned to look at Lucretia. She nodded, then raised up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “We’ll talk tomorrow; I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for giving me so much adventure today!” she murmured with a crooked smile, then released his hand and left with the escort who had not spoken.

  “What is this all about?” Kestrel asked the other two as they began to walk towards the same administrative building he had visited just the night before.

  “Colonel Silvan is waiting to talk to you personally. You’ll learn whatever he has to say to you in just a minute,” the escort replied stoically.

  They walked silently across the base and returned to the building that was the headquarters for the head of the elven spy network. Kestrel and his escorts climbed upwards, and found Giardell, the model elven guard, once again on duty outside Silvan’s door. “We’re delivering the agent as ordered,” Kestrel’s escort reported to Giardell with a salute, and then departed.

  The hallway was once again dimly lit by wall-mounted candle sconces. Once again, Kestrel stood uncertainly, waiting for an interview. He thought about Lucretia’s kiss, and he thought about Cheryl back in Elmheng. His evening spent in the bower with Lucretia had not led to anything improper, anything that would have been embarrassing to describe back home, but that was perhaps only because the two of them had been interrupted before something had happened.

  He would see Lucretia again in the morning; he had time to think about what he was doing before he saw her.

  “Kestrel!” he heard his name called sharply, and realized that it had been called more than once while he had been lost in thought about the two girls. Giardell had called, and was motioning slightly to the doorway where Colonel Silvan’s head was visible, the wavering reflection of a candle shining off the top of his bald pate.

  “Will you come in please, Kestrel?” the colonel asked.

  Kestrel nodded at Giardell and entered the office, before Silvan closed the door and circled around behind his desk for a seat. He motioned for Kestrel to sit in the same chair he’d occupied the previous night.

  “Well Kestrel, I’m sure you’re anxious to know why you’ve been called here so suddenly,” Silvan said.

  “Yes sir, I am,” he replied immediately.

  “Last night I told you to go out and enjoy the city; I didn’t expect you’d create circumstances for the city to enjoy you! Here you are in the city for twenty four hours and already drawing attention to yourself. Do you know what I hear the city rumors say?” the colonel asked.

  “No sir,” Kestrel replied.

  “There’s a human who has a sprite familiar who is going to win the archery contest and marry the princess! Can you believe that? Now who do you suppose they are talking about?” Silvan asked.

  Kestrel stared at the colonel in disbelief. “None of that is true sir!” he cried.

  “Yet that’s what some people are saying,” Silvan answered mildly. “Every one of the facts is wrong, except possibly the part about you winning the competition. But people will talk, and rumor will always tell a better story than the truth, and tell it quick. Even though, in this case, the truth of your story would satisfy the street crowds well enough.

  “I didn’t expect you to call attention to yourself so effectively Kestrel. You may have an assignment coming up for me, and you can’t be effective if you’re a public figure.”

  Intuitively, Kestrel grasped something of what Silvan was leading to. “You want me to be a spy!”

  “Kestrel, I want to decide if there’s a way you can serve the elven cause. Until I make that decision, I don’t want to see the opportunity lost because you become too prominent,” Silvan said. He was suddenly business-like, as he withdrew a round cylinder from a desk drawer. Kestrel recognized it for what it was: a blue-ribbon messenger tube. “You are ordered to leave Center Trunk at dawn tomorrow and to carry this message to Commander Cosima in Firheng. Giardell has a supply bag ready and waiting for you outside the office.”

  “But the tournament tomorrow!” Kestrel protested.

  “You will miss the tournament. Your friend Lucretia has been informed by now that she should report your withdrawal from the tournament and make your farewells to your comrades for you,” Silvan calmly agreed.

  “Can I say good bye to Lucretia?” Kestrel asked, morosely, knowing that he had no recourse to the direct order that he had just been given.

  “Lucretia has been told that she will not see you again, and she is not to ever discuss with anyone any of the stories you have told her about your experiences. That is an order given to her, Kestrel,” Silvan emphasized.

  “I don’t want to be a spy,” Kestrel tried to protest. “Why Firheng?”

  “I am just using you as a courier at this point. No one has decided that you have to be a spy, and no one will force you against your will to carry out any spy activities,” Silvan answered. “Is there anything else?”

  There was. There was so much more Kestrel wanted to know, and so much he wanted to protest, but he couldn’t put it all into words. He was frustrated by the way such a glorious day had been ripped from the calendar of his life before it had even finished, and been made into a distant and pointless memory.

  He was standing and saluting, he realized. “I’ll see you again, Kestrel, and you’ll understand more next time,” the colonel was saying. “And we will have a discussion.”

  “Thank you sir,” he said, still not able to verbalize, or even understand, all that he felt. He left the room in a daze, then paused in the hallway as he tried to get his bearings.

  “Do you want these?” Giardell asked after a moment of observing the immobilized, uncomprehending look on Kestrel’s face as he struggled to cope with the unseen wall his life had been dashed against. Giardell hold up the knapsack of supplies and materials that were prepared for Kestrel.

  “Thank you,” Kestrel said automatically as he stepped over and accepted the offered items. He placed the straps over his shoulder, then went down the hall and out the door without a backwards glance.

  Silvan’s door opened, and he came out into the hallway to stand by his guard. “I didn’t expect to have to set him in motion so quickly; I had thought we’d have a little more time to prepare him,” the officer said.

  “His actions didn’t leave you any choice sir, not that the lad had any ill-intent,” Giardell replied. “If he had simply gone about the festival listening to the minstrels or playing the games or chasing the doxies, none of this would have happened.”

  “He’s going to need time to forgive us for what we’re doing to him,” Silvan mused.

  “Maybe you could send his girlfriend, Lucretia, up to see him at Firheng?” Giardell suggested.

  “That might be worth thinking about in a month or so, although I’d prefer that he make a clean break with everyone in Center Trunk besides us,” Silvan nodded. “We’ll see how his evaluations come in from Cosima, and then decide.” Silvan left the guard and returned to his room, as he pondered the plot he was setting in motion.

  Chapter 11 – Fight Like a Human

  Kestrel awoke just after sunrise, already late for his departure to Firheng. He had slept poorly throughout the evening, and he awoke without energy or enthusiasm. He stood by the window of his room and opened the bag that Giardell had given him the night before. The knapsack provided two changes of shirts, roughly five days’ worth of food, a knife, and a sturdy coil of rope, plus a small leather bag that contained a generous cache of small coins, enough to take him through a few situations.

  His attention to the contents of his luggage was distracted by a movement out the window. He glanced and saw Vinetia and Lucretia talking intently as they walked along the boulevard of the military camp. He hurriedly stuffed his assigned materials into the bag, pulled the bag, his bow and his arrows over his shoulder, and rushed out the door of his room. He went down the ha
ll and exited on the wrong side of his dormitory, then raced around the length of the building to see the two elven maids sauntering away from him.

  He stopped and thought about Colonel Silvan’s comments the night before. Lucretia knew that she was not going to see him again, which was probably what she was telling Vinetia as they walked. For Kestrel, the obvious proper choice was to let the two of them walk away from him, unaware of his proximity. But the thought of doing that left him feeling sorely pained. With a rash decision, he began to run down the lane after them.

  “Wait up!” he called when he had closed more than half the distance.

  Both girls turned in response to the call, and he saw the surprise on Lucretia’s face, and the puzzled look on Vinetia’s face as she looked at him and then at her companion. “I thought you told me we weren’t going to see him today!” she cried.

  “I can’t compete today,” Kestrel said breathlessly as he joined them. They had stopped walking, and the three of them stood together in the middle of the empty lane on the quiet military base, where only a few scattered noises indicated that some others were awake on the second morning of the festival. “I’m late getting started on my mission,” he held up the tube with the blue ribbon. “And I saw you walking by.”

  He looked back and forth from one to the other. “I’m sorry I can’t stay today. I didn’t know they’d have an assignment for me so soon,” he explained.

  “Are you a spy?” Lucretia asked.

  “I’ve only carried a message here, and now I’m taking one away. I don’t think that makes me a spy,” he answered.

  “Well, whatever it makes you, it makes me mad! I was counting on seeing you win the championship today,” Vinetia told him, with a rough thump on his arm.

  “You’ll have to go out and win it instead,” Kestrel said affectionately.

  “When will you be back?” Lucretia asked.