The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 01 - The Healing Spring

by Jeffrey Quyle

  He strolled through the city, as he went directly to Daley’s millinery shop, where he banged the door shut upon his arrival, startling Daley, Merilla’s father, who was cutting a delicate piece of fabric that needed delivery to a customer. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking up from his work and looking over the top of the glasses he wore for examining delicate items up close.

  “My name is Kestrel, and I am a friend of Merilla’s,” Kestrel introduced himself. “We’ve met before, back when Merilla first returned.”

  “Of course! Of course!” Daley replied. “You’re the one who rescued her and brought her back, then disappeared for – how long has it been? – over a month now. Would you like to see her? She and the boys happen to be here this morning. Stay right there and I’ll go upstairs and get her.”

  The man sprung up from his chair and out the back door, leaving Kestrel to fidget nervously as he awaited the man’s return. Only a few minutes passed before the door opened, and Merilla stepped into the shop. Her eyes swept the room, then came to rest on Kestrel, and widened dramatically. “Oh Kestrel,” she practically moaned the words as she came rushing around the counter and into his arms.

  Kestrel smiled broadly as they embraced. “I’m so glad to see you again,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re as lovely as ever.”

  “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” she replied. She looked up at him and he kissed her, then they stepped apart.

  “I’m just passing through the city for a day or two, and I had to visit,” he told her, and saw a look of concern momentarily race across her features.

  “Your timing is extraordinary,” she paused. “I’m supposed to announce my engagement to Hammon the day after tomorrow,” she replied.

  It was his turn to suffer momentary shock. He looked down at her, not knowing what to say. “The mothers have arranged it. The wedding won’t occur until after my mourning period is over, probably long after, if I can manage,” she explained. “Hammon won’t object to the delay, if I ask him, poor, sweet thing – he’s being manipulated into this almost as much as I am.”

  Kestrel blanched at the thought of Merilla married to another man, but could imagine no realistic way he could intervene, unless he turned his back on all that he knew he had to do, and all that depended on him.

  “But for the next two nights you’re not yet engaged?” he asked.

  “In the eyes of the city, no. In the eyes of my mother, I already am,” Merilla answered.

  “And what do your eyes see?” Kestrel asked. “Could you go to the palace with me tomorrow night as my guest at a reception?”

  She stepped backwards a few inches, to better scrutinize his face. “What do you mean?”

  “The Doge is going to hold a reception for the court tomorrow, to introduce the Champion to them all publically. I hoped you would be my escort,” he explained.

  She stood silent for several seconds as she weighed the consequences of her decision; “Yes, I’ll be your escort,” she accepted the offer.

  “Merilla? Are you still down here?” Kestrel heard Durille, her mother call, just moments before she came through the door into the shop. She paused upon entry and examined Kestrel for a long minute. “So you’ve returned, I see,” she said in a flat voice as she recognized him.

  “Has Merilla told you her happy news?” Durille asked him.

  “Kestrel just asked me if I’d go to a reception at the Doge’s court with him tomorrow evening, as his guest,” Merilla spoke up before Kestrel answered. “He didn’t know about my upcoming betrothal of course. I’ve agreed to go with him,” she said calmly, “since I will only still be a widow in mourning tomorrow, you know. He has to leave again in a day or two.”

  Durille’s face was a mask as she listened and considered the implications of Merilla’s declaration, made in a determined voice. There was little likelihood of undoing this complication, she concluded, and then this bane of her plan to settle Merilla down would be gone again, and Merilla would be suitably engaged.

  “That sounds like a wonderful plan, and your friend is fortunate to be invited to such a prestigious event,” she replied, wondering if he really was even invited to such an activity at the palace, never having learned of the honors he received. “What do you plan to wear?”

  “I’ll make something. We’ve got all this fabric I can borrow,” she replied.

  “Well, I better go back upstairs to watch your boys,” Durille said. “You’ll need to get back to them soon as well.”

  “I will mother, I will,” Merilla said. “I’ll be up in a couple of minutes.”

  With a last suspicious look, the mother left the shop, and Merilla gave a sigh of relief. “What should I wear?” she asked Kestrel rhetorically, as she looked around the shop at the bolts of cloth. “I’ll bet you’d like to see me wear this, wouldn’t you?” she asked as she stepped to the far wall and pulled a white bundle of fabric out of its slot. She pulled the cloth away from the bolt and held it in front of her face, a sheer fabric that Kestrel could easily see through. He imagined momentarily what she would look like dressed in such a design, her body visible beneath the covering.

  “Merilla! Can you make a shirt for me using that fabric?” he asked, his mind jumping from her clothing question to his own.

  “Really? That’s how enticing I am to you?” she replied in exasperation. “Just good old Merilla! Maybe she’ll be my seamstress. No excitement there; going to marry the leathermonger, ho hum?”

  “No, no, that’s not it,” Kestrel replied. “I did think about you in a dress of your see-through fabric; I imagined being able to see that freckle on your lower back, just below your waist, or those curves you have that are so inviting, or the mole just above your navel, or,” he was ready to name something else when she cut him off.

  “That’s enough, Kestrel. My mother may be listening, you know,” she blushed as she lowered the cloth.

  “But the Doge said that everyone at court will want to see the mark the goddess implanted on my chest; I’ve already taken my shirt off three times this morning,” he explained.

  “So if you wore a transparent shirt at the reception,” Merilla followed his logic, “everyone could see the mark and you wouldn’t have to do anything to show it.

  “Alright, I’ll make a shirt for you, my Champion!” she laughed.

  “Now, I have to go upstairs,” she placed the cloth back in its spot on the wall and rejoined Kestrel. I’ll be at my house tonight, if you have time to come visit,” she added, as Kestrel placed an arm around her waist.

  “I can’t help myself; I’ve thought about you so much, lately,” he told her as he kissed her.

  “Can you stay; can you settle down here, Kestrel? I can tell Hammon and my mother ‘no’ if you tell me you’ll come back,” she answered.

  He shook his head. “I’ll be gone a long time this time, I’m afraid,” he told her as he released her.

  Her hopeful smile turned downward. “Go on now,” she responded. “I’ll see you tonight.” And then she was through the shop door and gone from view, giving Kestrel a reason to leave the shop and return to Castona’s trading place.

  He felt remorseful as he walked through the streets to Castona’s shop. He shouldn’t have reinserted himself back into Merilla’s life, he knew, especially as she was settling into a life that would be fixed and solid and reliable here in her home city. But he also knew that he would go to see her that evening, after dark, after the leather shop was closed and after her boys were asleep.

  When he reached the trader’s shop Castona wasn’t present, but the assistant at the counter told him to go wait in any of the rooms in the back, knowing as they did of Kestrel’s close relationship to Castona and his special status. Kestrel sat in the room for an hour, glad for the warmth inside, and thought about his visit to the palace earlier in the morning. He had questions for Castona, he knew.

  “Well, you’re back sooner than I expected. I thought you might spend all day at the
palace,” the merchant said as he returned and entered the office.

  “I was taken in to see the Doge right away,” Kestrel replied. “And there will be a reception tomorrow evening at the palace.”

  “I knew there would be!” Castona replied.

  “When I entered the court, the ambassador from Uniontown was leaving,” Kestrel said, and he watched Castona make an unpleasant face. “What can you tell me about him?”

  “He seems evil,” Castona said, making one of the rare statements Kestrel could remember from him that judged the values of someone or something. Castona usually weighed things in his merchant’s manner and delivered an evaluation, but this ambassador drove the trader to a simpler, more direct conclusion.

  “He arrived on one of their ships a couple of weeks ago, and acquired one of the largest estates in the city, one that I didn’t even know was available to be had. He and his group have remained largely within it, coming out rarely, except when they tell the gullible people how strong and wonderful their new gods are. He’s gotten some locals to listen to him already!”

  “They say, and I know such rumors are the food of fools,” he commented, “but I almost believe this – they say there are strange lights at night, and screams that are terrible.”

  “Where is Uniontown?” Kestrel asked. “I thought I had learned the cities of the north and the Inner Seas, but I never heard of it.”

  “It’s not properly a part of the Inner Seas Kingdoms,” Castona answered. “It’s much further south, along the Gamble River, near the Western Mountains. It’s grown in profile in the past few years, starting to sell more goods along the Inner Seas and sending ambassadors to some of the kingdoms there.

  “Why they have an ambassador here is beyond me. There’s no trade between the two nations at all,” Castona mused. “But they’ve gone to court and presented their credentials, you say? Then they’re here, for whatever reason, and the Doge can’t have been happy to have to recognize someone who is stirring sedition among the lower classes.”

  “That’s not the topic I thought we’d talk about though,” Castona moved on. “I’ve found a berth for you on a ship. There’s a naval cutter that’s headed to North Harbor in two days, and as a Captain of the Fleet you’re entitled to a berth onboard. It won’t be comfortable, but it will be fast; with the right winds you could be in North Harbor in just five days sailing time.”

  “What would I do from North Harbor?” Kestrel asked.

  “It’s an open port,” Castona answered, meaning that it wouldn’t freeze shut the way Estone would in the winter time, “so you’ll be able to purchase a ride aboard a merchantman from there to take you south, at least to Seafare, and from there you’ll be able to find your way anywhere in the Inner Seas.”

  “You’ll be a bit of a curiosity aboard the cutter, The Seagull,” Castona told Kestrel. “This honor of being a Captain of the Fleet is usually given to retired naval officers of distinction. The use of its privileges is very rare, unknown for a landsman.”

  “Well, this is probably my one and only time to use the honor, so they shouldn’t worry about abuse,” Kestrel laughed.

  He parted soon after, and returned to his room at his inn, where he restlessly waited the remainder of the afternoon, until the early nightfall of the season. Kestrel ate a simple meal at the tavern next to his inn, and waited impatiently for time to pass, until he judged that Merilla would be alone in her home, and he started through the streets to visit her.

  There was a cold wind blowing from the North Sea, sweeping debris along the city ways, and it caught Kestrel full in the face from time to time, making him wince as he pulled his hood tight and bent forward. The walk seemed to take forever, but in time he reached the corner he had visited the night before. In Merilla’s house there was only one window lit, and a figure stood at the window looking out, serving as a confirmation that Kestrel was welcome to come in out of the cold.

  He opened the door and climbed the stairs, then knocked softly and pushed the door open. He saw Merilla walking towards him, carrying a candle that lit the front of her in a warm glow. She was wearing black underclothes, small scraps of cloth that served mostly to accentuate her curves rather than hide them, and that drew more attention to her flesh by its stark contrast with her pale skin. Kestrel could see such details clearly, even in the dim light, because she wore a diaphanous wrap of material around her body, the sheer white material they had looked at in the shop.

  “Let’s go someplace warm,” he said huskily, as she came to him and kissed him, a light cloud of a delicate fragrance enveloping him as she arrived, an expensive perfume, he was sure.

  “Wait,” she said, and unwrapped her wispy covering. “No reason to take this in,” she told him, as he pulled off his hood and cape, and set his staff aside. They went into the bedroom and Kestrel removed his boots as Merilla pushed the door closed, and then they laid down together and started to kiss, when a shrill voice cried out.

  “Kestrel! Human-friend! I need you! Jonson is hurt, badly, and I’m afraid he will die! Please come take him to the healing spring!” Dewberry was in the air above them, hovering and darting wildly in the dim light of the candle, and Kestrel could see tears rolling down her cheeks, glistening like blue crystals.

  Merilla stifled a shriek, as Kestrel looked up at Dewberry’s heart-wrenching distress, then looked down at Merilla’s expression of disbelief beneath him.

  “I have to try to help,” he told Merilla, then looked up. “Dewberry get the help you need to carry me.”

  Dewberry disappeared without response, as Kestrel sat up. “I’m sorry, my love.”

  “We are truly forbidden to be together, aren’t we?” Merilla asked in an emotionless voice. “The gods do not want us to couple.”

  “It seems like it, for now,” Kestrel answered as he pulled his pants back on and stuffed his feet into his boots. He went back out to the front room, where he was surrounded by Dewberry and three other sprites.

  “We’re going,” Dewberry shouted, as Kestrel reached for his staff, and felt his fingers clasp the wooden shaft a fraction of a second before he left Merilla’s dark apartment and entered the momentary, disquieting transition of chill and darkness that the sprites’ translocation created, then re-materialized in a dark, cool swamp. There was fetid water up to his knees, spilling over the tops of his boots to fill them inside.

  “Where are we? Where’s Jonson?” Kestrel asked. He could see virtually nothing in the blackness.

  “Reasion,” Dewberry called, “go home and get a lantern. Jonson’s must have burned out.”

  Seconds later, a light appeared, and Kestrel instantly saw a horrific sight; Jonson floated atop the scummy water of the swamp, his legs gone, a dark stain spreading out around him. Next to his body floated a huge, toothy lizard-like monster, twice as long as Kestrel was tall. It was dead, a shaft driven through its skull.

  Kestrel picked up Jonson’s body. “Take us to the spring!” he cried out, and multiple small bodies embraced him, then deposited him on the lawn next to the spring, where the warm water of the pool was covered in mists. Kestrel plunged Jonson’s body down into the water, laying him on the sandy shelf that was the usual place he rested the sprites.

  “Now, Dewberry, take me to Alicia, the elf-woman who came here with us before! Hurry!” Kestrel called. “We may need her to save him!”

  The bodies surrounded Kestrel again, and suddenly they were all in a room, where Alicia slept alone in a narrow bed. The lantern in Reasion’s hand illuminated the scene, as Kestrel knelt next to the bed and shook Alicia’s shoulder. “Alicia! Wake up. We need a doctor,” Kestrel said loudly.

  The woman’s eyes sprang open, and she looked at Kestrel without comprehension for only a half second, then sat up and looked around the room at the floating crowd of blue bodies. “Gods above! Kestrel, what are you doing here?” she pulled her sheet up over her torso.

  “We need you. Our friend, Jonson, the water imp, he had his legs bit off b
y a monster creature. He’s at the healing spring now. Please come look at him,” Kestrel said, shaking his head slightly as he tried to remove the untimely comparison his mind was making even now between Alicia’s sleek elven body and Merilla’s soft and shapely human one.

  “I need, I need my tools,” Alicia replied, climbing out of bed and hurriedly wrapping a robe around her body. “Let’s go,” she darted out a doorway and down the hall. They were in the very building where she had operated on him, Kestrel realized, and he wondered where Silvan was sleeping.

  “Take her first, and take the light,” Kestrel instructed Dewberry, “explain to her what has happened, then come back and get me.”

  “Kestrel?” Alicia asked, looking at him as small blue bodies wrapped around her, just before she disappeared.

  Kestrel left the room and left the building, then went trotting down the dark, deserted road of the base towards the supply building. There was no one present, and he threw his shoulder against the door, crashing it open. Someone was sure to hear and come investigate, but he hoped to be gone before they found him.

  Inside the dark front room Kestrel fumbled with objects on the counter until he felt the lantern that he thought he remembered. “Friend Kestrel?” Dewberry’s voice called him. “Why are you here?”

  “Dewberry, I’ve got a lantern. Take it and light it, then bring it back here,” Kestrel instructed.

  “I will,” she replied. He couldn’t see her, but he felt the lantern disappear from his hands, and within thirty seconds Dewberry and the other sprites were with her, the lantern providing illumination.

  “Good, let’s go get some water skins, so that you can use them for Jonson,” he said, grabbing the lantern and walking into the warehouse in the back of the building. Weapons were to the left, food in the center, clothing on the right. Kestrel guessed that the water skins would be with the clothing, and went down that aisle. He walked its full length and halfway back up the next aisle before he saw the supply of empty skins, piled in a large wooden crate.