The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 01 - The Healing Spring

by Jeffrey Quyle

  With the staff securely held in both hands, Kestrel went on the attack, using both ends to land blows on the big man, while blocking every swing of the sword with ease, his staff becoming nicked and hacked but remaining sturdy. Kestrel whacked the wooden staff hard on the other man’s knee, striking a nerve that made him involuntarily bow, and bringing his temple into range of a telling blow that knocked the man dizzy. Kestrel followed with a blow to the top of the head, a stiff prod to the midsection, and then a strike to the throat that left the man on the ground.

  Kestrel stood wearily, looking about. The woman was the only one standing, watching him warily from behind a tree. “Are we done here?” Kestrel shouted at her.

  She ducked behind the tree. “Go on,” she shouted. “Go on and leave us be.”

  Kestrel sheathed his sword, then strapped his staff to his pack again, and swung the pack over his shoulder. He picked up his bow, and placed it over his left shoulder, where the goddess’s hand print had healed after days of treatment with the water from the healing spring. Satisfied that he had all his belongings, but shaken by the suddenness and pointlessness of the fruitless violence, he returned to the road and began raising a dusty cloud as he hurried south, seeking to put space between himself and the scene of the deadly encounter.

  It was probably the next day that he crossed the unmarked border between the humans of Estone and the elves of the Eastern Forest. He slept in trees in the elven manner for the next two nights, and around noon, on the fifth day of his journey from Estone, he re-entered the gates of Firheng.

  Chapter 24 – Return to Firheng

  Belinda was not behind her desk when Kestrel walked into her office. “Gion, is the commander in?” Kestrel stuck his head out into the hall to ask the guard on duty.

  “He’s down at the armory,” Gion answered. “Go on down and give him a challenge, why don’t you?” the guard grinned. “Welcome back, yeti-killer.”

  “I’m going to leave my things here,” Kestrel replied, piling his goods in a corner.

  “What, don’t you think you want to stay with us a while? Go ahead up to your room and put your things away,” Gion replied.

  “I’m pretty sure they’re going to send me back to Center Trunk. I just don’t know if it will be immediately or delayed,” Kestrel protested. “If I get to stay here, I’ll go to my room.”

  With that he wandered back to the armory where Arlen and Casimo were both engaged in matches, along with a half dozen others. Kestrel stood in the doorway and watched the activity as guards practiced swords along with as staffs and hand-to-hand techniques as well. He hoped he’d have a chance to stay at Firheng for a few days and practice his skills, living simply for the engagements without worries about surgeries or assignments or loyalties or deities.

  “All welcome the great combatant!” Arlen shouted, and heads turned to look at Kestrel. Both Arlen and Casimo dismissed their opponents, and walked over to shake his hand and heartily welcome him back to Firheng.

  “You took your time returning, it seems,” Casimo commented. “Did anything interesting happen?”

  “He had a long journey from where we were all the way to Estone city, especially considering he had to play papa to a widow and at least a couple of babies,” Arlen spoke up defensively. “Did everything go well? Did you find Castona? Was he a help?”

  “I did find Castona, and he was a big help. There were complications at times, but Castona knew how to deal with everything,” Kestrel answered. “I owe him thanks for his help.”

  “And did you get the widow settled in? Were the kids a handful?” Arlen asked.

  “They’re great kids. They handled the journey well; they handled the city pretty well. Merilla’s from Estone, she has returned to her parents, and with the money Castona got for the yeti items, I think she’ll be set,” Kestrel sighed.

  “How did you feel in the city, around all those humans? How was your accent?” Casimo jumped in. “Your ears look like they never were treated? What did you do to them?”

  “I think my accent is fine; Castona said I sounded like I came from some of the southern cities. He said I wouldn’t have any problems, and no one else said anything at all,” Kestrel answered. He paused, as he wondered how much more to say about all that had taken place, the things that were unbelievable and the things that were intensely personal.

  “On the way back to Firheng I was ambushed by thieves; at least I assume they meant to be thieves. I used my bow, my sword, and my staff to escape,” he began with the easiest matter.

  “Good for you! How many were there?” Arlen asked.

  “I hit two with arrows, beat three with the sword, and one with the staff. He was the biggest one,” Kestrel answered. Arlen and Casimo exchanged a look.

  “You beat six thieves?” Arlen asked.

  “They tried to ambush me, and they were split up, so I never fought more than three at a time,” Kestrel explained.

  “They probably saw a solitary elf on the road and assumed you were just a merchant who couldn’t fight, who was returned from trading goods in Estone and would have money they could steal,” Casimo hypothesized.

  “They didn’t know or care if I could fight,” Kestrel blurted out. “Their first shot was meant to kill me.” He thought of the arrow that had bounced off his chest.

  “Sure,” Arlen agreed casually. “They’re not known as kind and gentle people.”

  “I was lauded as a yeti-killer,” Kestrel began to approach his story. “When I took the goods to Castona to sell, he thought he could make the most money through an auction, so he spread the story about fighting the yeti to give the auction more publicity. So I got some recognition.” He wasn’t sure what else to say that wouldn’t sound completely unbelievable, although he knew he had the proof he needed for his story.

  “Did the sale go well?” Arlen asked.

  “Castona raised,” Kestrel added the amounts together, “one hundred and twenty golds. He kept fifty for himself, and Merilla got the rest.”

  “She got seventy golds! How much did you get?” Casimo exclaimed, his voice rising.

  “I didn’t get anything from the yeti sales,” Kestrel answered. “I told Merilla she could have everything. She has the boys after all.”

  “So why are your ears back to normal?” Casimo repeated his earlier question.

  “When we fought the yeti, we were all injured, so I used some of the healing water. I didn’t think about it healing my ears so completely back to their usual shape. And then on the trip to the city, one of the boys got hurt, and I rubbed more of the water into his scalp wound a couple of times,” Kestrel explained. “By the time we went to the palace to meet the Doge my ears already grew out enough that Castona had my head wrapped to hide them.”

  “You met the Doge at the palace?” Arlen asked in surprise.

  He had said a little too much, Kestrel realized, and he had taken a step closer to revealing the frightening part of what he had experienced.

  “That was part of the plan for promoting the auction,” he replied.

  “What’s the rest of this story?” the commander asked. “I sense you’re not telling us everything.”

  Kestrel took another deep breath, then sighed. He wasn’t good at lying, and he was speaking to a commanding officer to boot.

  “The Doge gave me titles; he named me as a Captain of the Fleet, and he named me as Champion of the People. Then the goddess Kai came to earth and named me her champion of the people too,” he spoke hurriedly, his words running together.

  Casimo sat back. “Okay, now tell me what really happened.”

  In response, Kestrel stood up. He untucked his shirt, then pulled it up over his head, revealing the new marks that had been added to his torso. “This is the one the Doge ordered for me,” he pointed, “and this is the one the goddess created,” his finger crossed his chest, then he twisted his back into their view and pointed over his shoulder. “This is the mark she left behind.”

  Both the
other elves at the table stood as well, looking at Kestrel, then at one another, then at Kestrel again.

  “Put your shirt on,” Casimo snapped. “We’re going to my office right now.” He immediately left the armory, as others looked at the trio, examining Kestrel from a distance.

  Arlen grabbed Kestrel’s arm. “What is this?” he asked.

  Kestrel wretched his arm free. “Kai told me before that I would owe her a favor, because she had done something I asked her to. I just never knew it would be anything like this.

  “Let’s go,” he said, heading to the door.

  Arlen followed. “That mark on your back looks like it must have been painful.”

  “It was,” Kestrel confirmed. “But the mark saved my life. The arrow the thieves shot at me? It hit me square on the mark and bounced off. A sword stabbed me there, but couldn’t penetrate it.”

  They walked the short distance across the base to Casimo’s office, where Belinda had returned.

  “Kestrel!” she said fondly. “It’s so good to see you, even with elven ears. Your healing water worked miracles for Ranor; I applied all of it to him, and so much is improving. His ears and his eyes have grown back!”

  Kestrel walked to the corner and picked up another bag of healing water. “Here, take this one then and put it to use,” he handed it to her.

  She hugged him tightly, and when they broke apart, there were tears in her eyes. “Kestrel, I dream that I’ll have the old Ranor back someday. Do you think I will?”

  “The water does great things, Belinda. Just say your prayers and hope for the best,” he answered with a smile.

  He left her as he started to walk towards Casimo’s office with Arlen. “He just went in there in quite a mood. You might want to come back later,” she advised.

  “I’m the reason he’s in that mood,” Kestrel said bleakly, his hand on the door, and then it pushed it open and entered.

  “Kestrel, take off your shirt again. Belinda, come in here,” Casimo called out loudly before Kestrel and Arlen had even entered his office.

  Belinda followed the other two into the office, and pushed the door closed behind her.

  “Both of you take a look at this and tell me what it means,” Casimo ordered Arlen and Belinda.

  They both circled Kestrel as he stood self-consciously.

  “Belinda, what do these things mean?” Casimo asked his assistant.

  “I don’t know, but the crest is beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a work of art. What do the words at the bottom mean?” she asked.

  “What words?” Kestrel questioned. He had never had a mirror with which to study the marks on his chest closely, and the details were a mystery.

  Belinda leaned in close to his body. “Kai’s champion, Estone’s Champion, Humanity’s Champion,” she read.

  “So you’re humanity’s champion now?” Casimo asked.

  “So the goddess named me,” Kestrel replied. Belinda gasped audibly.

  “Have you renounced your allegiance to the elven nation?” he asked.

  “No,” Kestrel answered instantly, while thinking about the constant desire he felt to go back to Merilla and live with her in Estone.

  “Arlen, what do you think of this?” the commander asked.

  “I think I am a simple master-at-arms, and these are matters far beyond my knowledge. I know Kestrel is an elf, and I know he killed a yeti, and I know he would not betray our people,” the warrior replied.

  Casimo sat silently for over a minute, as everyone else stood awkwardly. “Put your shirt on Kestrel,” he said at last. “Then go get whatever you want to take with you. I’m going to send you on your way to Center Trunk this afternoon; this is too deep for me.

  Come back in an hour; I’m going to write a report for you to take to Silvan, explaining the situation as I understand it,” he decided out loud. “All of you are dismissed. Belinda, get a message tube prepared.

  “No, wait,” he called as they headed to the door. “Kestrel, you might as well spend the night here after traveling all day to get here; get a little rest. You’re off duty, and I’ll have a message for you in the morning,” he changed his mind.

  Kestrel gathered his pack and weapons, and started down the hall. “Kestrel,” Arlen called, “do you want to grab dinner?” he asked.

  “That sounds good,” Kestrel replied with a grin, the first time he felt comfortable since beginning to tell his tale. “I’ll meet you at the dining hall in a couple of hours.” He left the offices to return to his old rooms for the first time since he had left on the yeti-hunting training mission.

  “Belinda,” Casimo called as soon as Kestrel was gone. “Get the fastest messenger you can. I want to send a tube this afternoon with a message, and then I’ll send another tomorrow with Kestrel,” he ordered, then shut his door and began to write out his urgent report.

  Chapter 25 – Hydrotaz Betrayal

  Ferris was released from the prison the same day Kestrel arrived in Firheng. He had spent days crammed with two dozen other Hydrotaz officers in a small dungeon cell, next to other cells that likewise inhumanely held officers and noblemen who had been swept up by the forces of Graylee.

  The joy Ferris had felt during the great victory over the elves had been a short-lived burst of satisfaction. He had felt uneasy before the battle, concerned about the presence of the Graylee forces and equipment on Hydrotaz soil. He had been confused by the sudden departure from the battlefield after the easy victory, and he felt uneasy when they had triumphantly marched back westward with their war machines and strings of captured elves who were destined to be enslaved.

  And then horror had come. Officers of the Hydrotaz forces had been pulled aside for a series of briefings over the course of the journey, and had been chained up and bundled away from their forces. Then the siege weapons had been reassembled, and used to pummel the capital city, Hydrotaz, into surrender to the surrounding Graylee forces. The leaders of Hydrotaz’s own forces had been penned away, and only now were being released, now that their wives and children were being held as hostages, shipped to the distant city of Graylee to be held at a palace there, or to be punished there if the Hydrotaz officers objected to the conquest of their nation.

  Ferris had stood for days in the crowded dungeon cell, a filthy cesspit that could not hold half as many prisoners in humane conditions. When his name had been called on the day of his release he had pressed and worked his way through the crowd to the dim light of a lantern that showed where the doorway was. His legs were like those of all the other prisoners, weak from the lack of exercise and movement, and when he left the cell and affirmed his identity, he was dragged by two Graylee guards out into the sunlight. He shaded his eyes and stumbled, blinded by the light, as he slowly followed his captors to a courtroom.

  “Captain Ferris?” a military judge of Graylee had asked as he sat up at the bench looking down upon Ferris. Other men in tattered clothes were awaiting their turns for similar hearings.

  “That’s me,” Ferris confirmed.

  “Husband of Joane, father of Graysen?” the judge asked.

  “I am,” Ferris answered.

  “Resident of the blue brick manor on green water pond, and descendant of the Mylinde clan?” he was further asked to affirm his identity.

  “Those things are all true,” he could only agree. There was no value in foolish opposition at this point, not when these men could easily reach out and harm his family.

  “You are hereby freed upon parole, and released to live in society once again. You are hereby offered the opportunity to serve your nation as an officer in the infantry,” the judge read emotionlessly from a sheet of paper. “You are hereby notified that your wife and son have taken transport aboard the Graylee royal yacht Last Lake to take up residence at the Yellow Palace at Graylee, as a token of your commitment to obey the laws, rules, and regulations of the Graylee suzerainty now established in the lands formerly known as Hydrotaz.

  “Do you accep
t the terms of your freedom and responsibility?” the judge asked, then stopped reading without bothering to look up from his paper to observe Ferris.

  Ferris paused long enough that some of the bustle around the edges of the courtroom slowed as people paused to see if he would speak the wrong words.

  “I accept the terms,” he mumbled at last.

  “Take this loyal subject of Graylee to the quartermaster for uniform, supplies, and a copy of the rules of the Graylee army. Process all such paperwork as is necessary for him to assume his duties,” the judge said in a bored tone. He hammered on the podium. “Next case,” he called out, and Ferris was escorted away.

  He learned later that day that he would be assigned as captain of a company of mixed Graylee and Hydrotaz membership, to be assigned to spend the upcoming winter out on the Eastern Forest frontier, near where the Battle of the Fire had been held, and then would be thrown into battle in the spring.

  Chapter 26 – The Return to Center Trunk

  Kestrel awoke in the morning, feeling more comfortable with his circumstances than he had at any time since killing the yeti. He and Arlen had eaten dinner, then drank ales, then returned to Kestrel’s apartment and continued to talk deep into the night. Kestrel had told Arlen the whole story of his doomed infatuation with Merilla, and the painful decision he had made to walk away from the human woman. He had confessed his self-doubt about his identity, whether he was elf or human.

  Arlen had tapped Kestrel’s breast as he prepared to leave when the red stars rose above the horizon. “You may have a human badge and a human obligation here on your skin, but underneath it, you have an elven heart,” Arlen had told him. “You’ve got a good heart, and I know you will always chose to do the right thing.

  “Let me know when you come back, and let me know if you need someone to go yeti hunting with you, now that I know how profitable it is!” he laughed, and descended the stairs into the darkness.