“There’s no escaping the masters,” one of the guards said insistently. “Let’s capture him and be done with this.” The guards had continued to approach Kestrel and were close enough to offer a difficult battle if he chose to stand up to them.
“This is your last chance; come with me – we can escape in the darkness and they’ll never have you again,” Kestrel said, beginning to edge back, and angling towards the edge of the road. He was ready to lead them away from his friends if necessary.
“It was your last chance,” the skeptical guard spoke up as he closed on Kestrel with his pike leveled.
Kestrel threw his knife while the guard was still three steps away, then danced aside as the momentum of the dead guard’s body carried it through the spot where Kestrel had stood.
“What about the rest of you?” Kestrel asked. “Will you throw away slavery and become free again?”
“Will you become our new master?” one of the guards asked.
There was a noise behind them, and they all turned and looked in fear, but found no approaching threats. “The bodies,” Kestrel urged them. “Drag all the bodies out here and hide them,” he indicated a small grove of bushes.
“We will do as you say,” one of them accepted Kestrel’s offer.
The Parstoles all dropped their pikes and ran to start hiding bodies. When they came to the body of the Viathin, they grew skittish, until Kestrel urged them on. They dragged the heavy body and left it atop the others, then turned to Kestrel after they picked up their pikes.
“What now, Master?” one asked.
“I’m not your master; I’m your companion,” Kestrel replied. There was another roar from inside the arena.
“Why are they cheering?” Kestrel asked.
“That’s the end of the sacrifices. They’ll say the prayer, and then come out,” a different Parstole answered.
“Let’s get going then,” Kestrel said cautiously. He wanted to trust these new allies, but wasn’t completely able to. He resolved to lead them in the direction of his other friends, and evaluate their behavior before he revealed the others to the new group of followers.
Kestrel walked along the edge of the road as they strode west, and he often dodged behind trees or dropped into ditches when others passed them along the way, but none of the Parstoles with him revealed his presence, he was pleased to see. And they passed out of the city and into the countryside.
A few hours later they reached the edge of the woods close to where Kestrel expected his friends to be waiting. “I have others who should be waiting for me here in these woods,” he explained to the new recruits, and persuaded them to wait for him while he went in search of his friends.
He had a happy reunion with all of the members of the group, Tableg was perhaps happiest to see him, since Kestrel was the only traveler who shared a language with the gnome. After a few minutes of greetings, he explained that he had more Parstoles, then took Gainue with him to meet the additional recruits.
Chapter 10 – From Albanu to Parstole
Two days later the enlarged group was surreptitiously traveling among the trees at the edge of the forest that had so effectively covered their passage through Albanu. They had entered the increasingly rougher terrain of the mountains, always aiming for the huge mountain that was to the north, a mountain that was snow-capped over a greater expanse of its surface than the total amount of surface of many of the surrounding mountains held. Already they had climbed to a noticeably higher altitude, where the temperatures were chillier and the air was thinner.
As night fell, they chose a camping place behind a boulder that was as large as a house. Kestrel set up a watch rotation for the evening, trying to match up those who could understand each other’s languages, and then he directed Allgain and the sprites to go around and collect sticks and kindling that they could carry with them. They were not far from the tree line and Kestrel wanted to carry enough tinder with them to provide for at least one fire if needed. They ate meager portions of the purloined supplies they carried, and everyone looked forward eagerly to sleeping through the night.
There had been no visible traffic on the mountain road for the past day. Kestrel drew comfort from that fact, as the group faced increasingly rugged countryside in the mountains that was likely to drive them to have to resort to walking on the road soon. Given the lack of trees and cover ahead, Kestrel saw little advantage to be gained by staying away from the road.
Two days after that night, they were on the shoulders of the great mountain, Stonehead, Allgain named it. Gainue knew the way to the cave where the portal existed, and judged that another day and a half would take them to the location they longed to see. Even though the Parstoles in the group were from two different tribes, their mutual desire to return to their homeland bonded them together, and Gainue led them as a single squad that operated according to Kestrel’s commands.
The only problem they encountered was a single outpost high on the mountain, where Parstoles were assigned to prevent any trouble from emerging out of the portal and bringing problems for the Viathins into Albanu, the land of Allgain and his people. After a short battle, two survivors of the guard post were taken captive. Although their experience was an alert to the Viathin that controlled them, the distance up in the mountains secured Kestrel and his friends from meaningful pursuit.
“Here, this is the cave,” Gainue said excitedly at the last sunset of their journey. All the members of the group huddled together quickly within the cave entrance, almost as eager for protection from the shrill winds and the frigid temperatures as they were to reach their goal at the other end of the cave.
With the remaining amounts of kindling they carried, Kestrel fashioned small torches, which they lit and used to illuminate their path into the cave. The journey through the passage was uneventful, except for a space that unnervingly felt again as though the sprites were carrying Kestrel from place to place. They moved on without comment until they saw light ahead, the sign that they had reached the other land, the home of the Parstoles. Fasmet took the lead from Kestrel, as the pace picked up to a rapid trot by the eager, homebound Parstoles, leaving the members of the smaller races running fast as their shorter legs struggled to keep up with the eager Parstoles.
“This is it, Kestrel! Welcome to our home! Welcome to freedom!” Fasmet called out gleefully as he emerged from the cave into the bottom of a wide, shallow ravine that was overhung with tree limbs and vines. Kestrel heard the joy in Fasmet’s voice, the exuberant celebration for having returned home to freedom that he had never expected to enjoy again. The voice was only a backdrop to Kestrel’s celebration of the clear sunlight that fell in dappled patches on the ground. There was no longer any ominous tint of red blanketing the world; this light was of a spectrum very similar to the light in Kestrel’s own world. There was perhaps a range of violet-blue that seemed more intense in this world than in his own, as he glimpsed a small flower that seemed to virtually glow.
And then an arrow struck Fasmet squarely in the chest; the triumphant smile on his face remained fixed, even as his body collapsed. A moment later a second arrow struck Kestrel, and bounced off the divine tattoo that covered his left side. Kestrel was knocked to the ground in shock. He sat up and looked around, then spotted the archer who held a bow; Kestrel threw his knife hastily as he called out an unnecessary warning to those behind him, who had seen the ambush unfold.
“Get back!” he shouted. “Lucretia, return,” he added.
With eyes raised to look at the edges of the gully above him, he caught his knife, then grabbed Fasmet’s arm and dragged the Parstole with him back into the protection of the cave mouth.
“Who could be guarding the cave?” Kestrel asked Gainue as the two of them bent over Fasmet. Kestrel reached for his remaining supply of healing water, but then put it away when Gainue shook his head sadly.
“He came all this way to be free, and he died here,” Gainue said sadly.
“Perhaps there are guards to
keep the Viathins from returning,” the Parstole suggested.
“What is the symbol for peace? What can we show to demonstrate our peaceful intentions?” Kestrel asked.
“Blue. Someone dressed in blue is an ambassador,” Gainue answered.
“We don’t have any blue clothing – we don’t have anything but shades of brown and dirt among us,” Kestrel replied.
“What about one of us, friend-Kestrel?” Jonson spoke up from behind Kestrel’s shoulder. “We are blue.”
“Could a blue sprite go forth safely?” Kestrel asked.
“I think so, but I don’t know for sure; if it were me up there, the blue skin would stop my bow from firing,” Gainue answered. “He certainly would get their attention.”
“I’ll do it, Kestrel,” Jonson said resolutely. He removed his shirt to present more of his blue skin.
“I’ll try to stay closely behind you,” Kestrel assured him, “and I’ll translate for you.”
“You won’t let anything happen to my groom, will you Kestrel-beloved?” Dewberry asked.
“I’ll do everything possible to protect him, just to keep you happy,” Kestrel assured her.
“I would hope to hear that you might keep me alive for some qualities of my own,” Jonson said drily.
Kestrel grinned, and the two of them cautiously approached the cave entrance. Jonson turned to look at Kestrel. “Take care of her if this doesn’t work,” he said seriously.
“If this doesn’t work, she’ll lose both of us,” Kestrel tried to reassure the imp.
Jonson took a step into the open, then paused. He took two more steps out and paused again. No arrows were fired, and no words were spoken.
Kestrel stepped out then, and stepped forward to stand beside Jonson.
“We come with peaceful intentions,” Kestrel held his earlobe as he shouted. “We have brought Parstoles who are former slaves of the Viathins,” he announced. “Their minds are free, and they long to come home.”
“Come no closer,” a voice called out. “You have killed one of our guards. For that you must be punished.”
“You have killed one of our companions, a Parstole, who came here only to be free. If that isn’t also a crime, what is?” Kestrel angrily asked. He took a deep breath, then bit his tongue to prevent himself from further outbursts.
“Bring your Parstoles out, one at a time,” the voice called.
“Gainue, do as he says,” Kestrel called back. “Send out one of your squad.”
When one of the newer Parstoles came hesitantly out of the cave, the voice called out. “Come forward,” and remained silent until the Parstole was several steps in front of where Jonson and Kestrel stood.
“Cease,” the voice called. A foursome of Parstoles appeared over the lip of the gully, and slid down the stony embankment. When they reached the floor of the ravine, they hoisted their weapons, and cautiously approached the arrivals from the cave.
“Who are you, and where are you from?” they asked the returnee.
“I am Tajar, from the Dishe tribe,” Kestrel’s returning Parstole answered.
“And how did you come to be here?” one of them stepped forward and asked.
“The pale one, Kestrel,” Tajar motioned towards Kestrel, “set me and the others free when he killed the Viathin that controlled us.”
“Why was the pale one not controlled by the Viathin?” the soldier asked.
There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, one that felt inspiring and frightening, and Kestrel looked around wildly. The sky and the valley and the trees were all unchanged, but a sense of vibrant energy seemed to permeate all. The Parstoles who were present, Tajar with Kestrel and Jonson, as well as all four of the guards who were interrogating Tajar, immediately fell to a kneeling position.
It was a feeling of divinity. Kestrel felt the same ominous and overwhelming, loving and incomprehensible, sense of presence he felt when the divinities in his own land revealed themselves. There was a divinity of this land arriving, making itself known and coming to reveal itself to the tableau at the gate.
One large tree that stood at the far side of the top of the ravine slowly began to bend, in a way that was impossible for a tree to do. The tree and all the space between its branches were filled with a green glow. As the tree continued to bend, Kestrel saw that there was a face upon the trunk that was approaching him. He too fell to his knees, his hand on Jonson’s shoulder pulling the imp down with him.
“There is a touch of god energy in this pale one,” the tree spoke to the assembled group. “He is beyond the influence of the Viathins, the ravaging exiled invaders, because he has the power of protection upon him. He is mine to judge not yours, and I will decide whether he should be allowed to enter our land.”
“Great lord Decimindion, your words are our command,” the leader of the Parstole guards spoke. “Tell us the word, and we will send him back to the other places.”
“He is mine to judge. I detect no ill-intent in his heart, or dangerous contamination in his body. Bring him and all his companions to me at the Grove of Elecifithion, so that I may resolve the questions and desires that he brings,” the tree said. With that, it slowly began to bend upward again; as it reached its original, straightened posture, the green glow faded, and the sense of powerful divinity disappeared.
“Frashing reins!” one of the Parstoles swore. “The great god was right here! With us! He spoke to you.”
“That was not the great god in truth, only his spirit. He was too wounded by the damage the Viathins inflicted to be able to travel from Electifithion,” the leader replied.
“Gather up all your people, we’re going on a journey,” he ordered.
Kestrel returned to the cave and used his finger on his earlobe to explain all that had taken place.
“Will it be safe to go with these people to visit their god?” Tableg asked.
“Since they followed their god’s orders by escorting us, I do not believe that any harm will be done to us,” Kestrel answered. “And this will give us time to explain our mission, so that we can learn how they have dispelled the Viathins from their world.”
“Will they provide us with food and supplies?” Allgain asked.
“You’ve asked a good question,” Kestrel answered. “We’ll ask, since we know our own supplies have gotten low.”
Within minutes the Parstole guards at the cave entrance were startled to see the assorted group come out of the passage way. “We’ve never seen some of these races, such as your own,” exclaimed Ducet, the leader of the guards.
Their departure was slowed by the joyful celebration of the returned Parstoles who climbed up the side of the gully, then knelt with tears of happiness as they realized they had truly returned to their homeland as free individuals. “You’ve done this thing for all of us that we never ever expected to achieve. Even when we were with you on the adventure in Albanu, I never really thought we’d live to see this day,” Gainue told Kestrel as he embraced him with gratitude.
“How can we ever repay you?” the red-skinned creature asked.
“Help me, and help your other companions. Our worlds still need your world’s means of defeating the Viathins. Please help us learn the secret, and then you may be able to help all the other Parstole slaves return home as well,” Kestrel pleaded.
Gainue looked around at the other Parstoles who had returned from Albanu, and watched them nod as they each made eye contact. “We will help you,” he agreed. “We will be your servants in this land, because we want to, not because you force us to.”
“I accept your help,” Kestrel said gravely, knowing that there was value in ceremonially accepting their pledge. “I will value each of you as my friend and assistant. And the first thing we need to do is make sure we have supplies so that all our companions can be fed as we travel.
“How far will we have to travel, by the way?” he asked.
“Two or three weeks,” came an answer.
“That long? Is there no
quicker way?” Kestrel asked, thinking about the length of time he had already been gone from the battles back in his own world.
“That’s the fastest likely journey,” another of his Parstole companions agreed.
Shortly thereafter, they took the first steps of their journey. The smaller members of the group, Allgain and the sprites, rode on the backs of the Parstoles, while Tableg hurried along, too tall and proud to accept a ride, though he lacked the height or stride of Kestrel or the Parstoles. There were food supplies gathered and provided, and they spent each of the first three nights of the journey sleeping in barracks or nondescript inns.
On their fourth day of travel through the land of the Parstoles, they reached a city, and Kestrel was impressed by the grandeur of the lofty buildings. The appearance was very similar to the looks of a human city back in Estone or Graylee, with one important exception, and Kestrel felt a longing to be back home among his friends, helping them with their struggles.
The difference was the absence of horses, and the absence of stables as well as droppings that fouled the streets. There were no beasts of burden anywhere that Kestrel looked during their journey.
“You make others carry your goods for you?” one of the Parstoles had asked in astonishment when Kestrel had mentioned the matter during their first day of journeying. Each member of the group had been given a pack filled with the supplies allocated to them. Kestrel had sought to take pity on the poor members of the smaller races in their group, the sprites and imps and Allgain, and had asked about having an animal to carry the supplies.
“We commonly use animals to carry goods,” Kestrel replied, referring to the human society, shying away from his elven heritage for the purposes of the conversation. The elves shared the Parstoles’ taboo against using animals, at least when it came to horses.
“Do you control them with your minds?” the Parstole asked, “like the Viathins?”
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows Page 12