“That’s correct,” Kestrel yawned as he answered.
“There’s a bath in through there,” he pointed for Moorin. “Personally, I’m ready to sleep,” he patted the bed. “And there’s enough space on this mattress for the two of us not to bother each other, or if you prefer, we can ask the staff for a different room for you.”
“I’ll stay here,” Moorin said quickly. “I believe you’re gentleman enough I don’t have to worry. But,” she said as she stood up, “a hot bath first sounds even better.”
Kestrel pulled off his boots, as Moorin carried her bag into the bathroom and shut the door, then he lay down on the mattress, and closed his eyes. He never heard Moorin finish her bath or return to the bedroom or lay down on the bed as he quickly fell into a deep sleep, his body recovering from the protracted stress of his injuries and flight from the place.
Early in the evening there was a knock at the door. Kestrel vaguely sensed it, as he began to awaken. Moorin came wide awake in an instant, and found herself pressed up against Kestrel, her body seeking the warmth of his, as well as the comfort of his nearness, and her arms were draped around him. She raised her head to look at the door. “Come in,” she called out in a clear voice.
She watched the door open, and Philip’s smiling face, unknown to her, looked in through the opening. The smile on his face changed to one of confusion as he saw the unknown female elf in bed with his friend. She quietly raised her finger to her lips, and watched Philip pull the door shut. Once the door was closed she rose and dressed in the travel clothes she had brought along, then went to the door.
“Where are you going?” Kestrel asked as he opened his eyes finally.
“I saw a man look in here, and I was going to go tell him you were sleeping after being my hero for the past two days,” Moorin said.
“Wait just a moment and I’ll go with you,” he said as he sat up. He flexed the fingers on his injured hand, satisfied with their substantial improvement. Together, they walked downstairs, causing Kestrel to flash back to memories of happier times in the city, when he had looked forward to seeing Margo and Picco and their brothers, when there had been laughter and a sense of security, and the house had been home to social dinners and parties. It was all in the past, and he regretted that Moorin had not had the opportunity to witness the house in that happier time.
He found Philip in the dining room, eating a cold dinner.
“Kestrel?” Philip asked, rising from his seat, questioning the fully human appearance Kestrel wore with his enchanted ring on his finger, as he saw him in full daylight for the first time.
“Philip, it’s me, a little worse for the wear! I’m so glad you made it out!” Kestrel exclaimed as they hugged.
“It was a near thing,” Philip said. “I suppose you had something to do with turning the tide in our favor in that battle at the gate?”
“I tried to help,” Kestrel agreed. There was a polite throat-clearing noise from behind him.
“This is the countess Lady Moorin, of the elves of the Northern Forest,” Kestrel stepped back to make introduction. “And this is Philip, the Lord of the Northern Marches of Graylee.”
Philip advanced and bowed deeply over Moorin’s hand, taking no note of her elven appearance or title. “It is an honor to meet you, my lady. My friend Kestrel is blessed to have such a lovely companion.”
“The honor is mine to meet you, and the blessing is mine to have been rescued by such a person as Kestrel,” she replied.
“Moorin was being held captive by the prince and Poma, kept in a house on the palace grounds,” Kestrel explained.
“His fiancée probably found that inappropriate; she may be your new best friend,” Philip told Kestrel.
“He is engaged? Oddly, he never mentioned that to me,” Moorin told them.
“He’s never met the girl, but he announced that he is going to marry the daughter of the Duke of Channelport, as a way to tie the two nations together,” Philip explained.
“How is Margo?” Kestrel asked, as a servant quietly entered the room with two more plates of cold foods and placed them on the table.
“From the sporadic notes I receive, she’s doing well,” Philip answered as they all sat and started to eat. “She has her own local militia now that protects the area, and Namber is so busy trying to maintain Channelport and reconquer Hydrotaz he doesn’t have enough soldiers to spare to fight anywhere else.”
“And how are you doing?” Kestrel asked.
“I keep the hopes of the opposition in the city alive,” Philip answered. “The way so many of us escaped from the palace was a real boost to everyone’s hopes! We keep inflicting small pains on the prince, so he knows he faces a challenge here at home.”
“The monster lizards are a key,” Kestrel blurted out. “They can control the minds of people; make them your targets and you’ll really upset the prince’s supporters.”
“Do you still plan to go to Hydrotaz to see Yulia, or will you stay here and help us?” Philip asked.
“I have to go, the sooner the better. The faster I carry out my other missions, the sooner I’ll be able to come back here to help Margo, and all of you,” Kestrel said.
“The sooner we go, you mean, don’t you?” Moorin interjected.
“Yes, exactly,” Kestrel agreed.
“I’ll be bold enough to offer you one of Creata’s horses from the stables. He’d probably appreciate not having the cost to feed it. He’s down at his mother’s estate making sure everything’s okay right now; Picco left Margo and the manor a couple of weeks ago to see her mother as well,” Philip explained. “And there are still some of your gold winnings from last year’s tournament hidden in the basement as well; you ought to take that to help you on your way.
“With the Graylee army between here and Hydrotaz preparing to invade, you’ll have a bit of a tricky journey,” he warned.
“Thank you,” Kestrel said in appreciation for the advice.
“I’m glad to know you’re still alive!” Philip said suddenly. “After you left Graylee we didn’t hear anything about you for months and months. We heard that Yulia had gained control of Hydrotaz, and I figured that was your doing, but nothing else. Where’d you go; back to the mountains to live with the gnomes again?”
Kestrel smiled. “I’ve had some adventures, but I didn’t live in the mountains this winter. I’ll tell you all about it when this is all over and we can spend a relaxing evening at your manor up north.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we better get ready to depart,” he said as he stood.
“Kestrel, when you see Yulia, please tell her I’ve been thinking about her, and I hope to see her again,” Philip said as he stood.
“She’ll appreciate that,” Kestrel instinctively answered. “I know she’d like to see you again too. Her eyes lit up the last time I saw her, when we talked about being together with you someday.”
Philip smiled, and then Kestrel and Moorin went upstairs to get their belongings. “So this Yulia, she is not your beloved?” Moorin asked. “Who is then?” she asked again when he shook his head negatively. “That Margo, or the girl with the sweet name, Picco?”
“I,” Kestrel hesitated just a moment, “there is no particular woman at the moment who would give her heart to me,” he stammered.
“But there is one you would like to, perhaps?” Moorin pressed.
“Perhaps,” Kestrel agreed, “but I have been away from everyone I know for so long these past few months that I can’t speak for how they feel,” he thought of Cheryl, who had married Malsten after Kestrel had left Elmheng. He paused as he thought of Alicia and Lucretia, still in the Eastern Forest, and he wondered about the status of their lives. He would perhaps have an opportunity to see Alicia after he finished his duties in Oaktown and in the Swampy Morass, he speculated.
“We need to go,” he lifted Moorin’s bag, and looked around the room. “I’ve had a lot of memories in this room,” he said softly.
“I hope yo
u can come back and join your friends here and have many more happy memories,” Moorin told him as she joined him at the door.
Minutes later they were in the stable yard as the sun began to set. Philip had saddled a horse for them, and held a leather bag full of gold coins. “You should get a hat to cover Lady Moorin’s ears as well, at least during the daylight,” Philip suggested. He went into the house and came out moments later with a knit white stocking cap. “Margo left this behind; I’m sure she would be happy to lend it to any friend of Kestrel’s,” he said as he handed the hat over.
Kestrel hugged Philip as he said farewell, then climbed on the horse, and lowered his hand to help Moorin mount. To his surprise she climbed up with ease. “Tell them all how much I miss them,” Kestrel told Philip, and then he flicked the reins and the horse left the yard behind the house and started traveling east, out of the city, reminding Kestrel of Chestnut, the horse he had ridden when he had last left the city. Chestnut had carried him all the way to the Eastern Forest, and had been bringing him back to Hydrotaz when he had broken his leg on the untamed prairie in the north of the country. And from there, his whole current set of adventures had ballooned, until the present, when it seemed that a plan might be in place, and his life might settle into an expected course.
“You mounted the horse very well,” Kestrel spoke over his shoulder to Moorin, who rode behind him. “Have you ridden before?”
She gave a low throaty laugh that sounded enchanting. “All my life,” she replied.
“In the Eastern Forest, most elves never ride horses. Most elves have never even seen a horse; there are no stables in the cities,” Kestrel explained. “I didn’t learn how to ride until I was trained to be a human.”
“How odd!” Moorin replied. “We ride horses all the time. It’s remarkable that our two elven nations could be so different.”
Kestrel thought about the unusual difference as well, as they rode through the city.
They left the city boundaries after nightfall, and Kestrel slipped off the horse in the early darkness of the springtime evening. “I’ll run for a while to spare the horse, and we’ll try to reach an inn for dinner tonight,” he told Moorin, thinking of the inn that he and Margo and Picco had spent a night at, where they had sat on the floor on a narrow room and eaten chocolate cake while drinking wine.
The arrived at the inn hours later, and Kestrel secured a room for the night, while Moorin waited outside in the darkness. They hurried up the stairs together to shield her elven features from scrutiny.
“I never knew there was such a need to hide being an elf,” she spoke in exasperation.
“I never doubted it,” Kestrel told her. “Being raised in the Eastern Forest where we’re so isolated from humans, it seems nature to me that we hide our differences. I used to be bullied and worse all the time because I looked part human.”
“In the Northern Forest we get along with our human neighbors so well!” Moorin exclaimed.
“Do you get along well enough to know about chocolate?” Kestrel asked.
“I love it!” Moorin answered enthusiastically.
“I’ll go bring some dinner back to the room, and I’ll see if I can get some chocolate cake,” he promised her, then he was off to the dining room.
Minutes later he returned to the room, where he stood in the doorway and stared at Moorin. She was staring out the window, lost in thought, and there was something in her pensive pose that Kestrel thought made her seem even more beautiful than he had thought before. Her thoughtfulness seemed to enhance her vulnerability, something that she usually hid behind a façade of competence and confidence.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
She slowly turned her face toward him, even as her eyes remained locked in a stare at some invisible point out in the darkness. “Everything is alright now that you’ve brought some chocolate for me,” she nodded towards the large piece of cake on the tray in Kestrel’s hands. “Didn’t you bring any for yourself?” she said with a serious face.
“I thought,” Kestrel started to stutter his expectation that they would share the piece of cake, when he saw Moorin’s lips twitch upward into the hint of a smile, and realized that she was teasing him. “I thought you would want to watch me enjoy eating this.”
She laughed out loud with him, and Kestrel placed the tray on the floor as they sat down opposite one another. “What shall we drink?” Moorin asked. “I don’t mind a glass of wine with dinner,” she hinted.
Kestrel ran downstairs for a bottle and two glasses, and when he returned the cake plate was empty, while there was a smudge of dark chocolate at the corner of her mouth. He looked at Moorin in shock, and she laughed as she pointed to the cake sitting on a napkin on the other side of the bed. After that, they sat and ate the standard tavern food Kestrel had purchased, along with the decidedly non-standard chocolate cake. They drank wine, and they talked, late into the night, about the differences between the eastern and the northern elves.
Moorin spoke passionately about the value of the communications the northern elves shared with the humans in the nations around them. “Few of us move away permanently, but many elves travel in those nations, and none of them are as hostile to elves as Graylee and Hydrotaz,” she mourned.
“We have to train our elves who we send to see the humans, and virtually the only ones we send are spies,” Kestrel told her. “I had to have surgery to cut my ears and eyebrows before I could try to live among the humans,” he explained, as he watched her hands unconsciously rise to protect her own ears from harm.
“But now I have this ring, and I don’t have to see Alicia so often,” he added. “I may not see her again the next time we go through Center Trunk, and once upon a time I would never have believed I could pass the city and not see her.”
“She is the doctor who is married to a leader, but slept with his bodyguard?” Moorin remembered part of Kestrel’s earlier biographical story. “Now that sounds like the type of thing that happens in our royal palace too,” she grinned, but then surprised Kestrel as tears started to brim in her eyes.
“I was engaged to be married to my first love, the prince of the northern elves, a cousin as a matter of fact, but just a few weeks before the wedding I discovered he was having an affair with one of my friends,” she admitted, as the tears started to flow.
“So I went to the ambassador from Seafare and said that I had changed my mind and I would marry Ruelin, his prince, as the ambassador had pleadingly asked, many months before, and just like that I sailed away from my family and friends two weeks later to meet my future husband and become a princess,” Kestrel pushed the tray of empty plates aside, and moved next to Moorin, wrapping an arm around her to comfort her while her tears continued to flow. “And just before we arrived at Seafare’s port, the Graylee ship stopped us and took the cargo, and then they took me and brought me to Graylee. I was only there for a fortnight before you showed up.
“And I still haven’t met my fiancé in Seafare, if he even still wants me as a bride after I’ve been tossed back and forth by every other nobleman in the Inner Seas, it seems,” she cried dramatically, turning her head and sobbing on Kestrel’s shoulder. “You’re not a nobleman, are you Kestrel?”
“Well, I am, but just the Warden of the Marches,” he recited his official title, embarrassed to reveal it at that moment.
“Oh Kestrel!” she laughed. “Trying to keep your noble title a secret? Any other man would have told me he had a title within the first five minutes of meeting to try to impress me,” she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “You are such a dear boy,” she laughed, then leaned back from him and looked up at the ceiling.
“I think I need to go to sleep,” she said in a drowsy voice, and so Kestrel tucked her into the bed, then wrapped himself in a cover and slept on the floor, his mind floating to sleep with thoughts of Moorin’s throaty laugh and the cozy feel of her resting within the crook of his arm.
“You’re a gentleman, are
n’t you?” Moorin spoke into his ear the next morning as they rode atop their horse, headed northeast towards Hydrotaz. “Last night you comforted me and put me to bed and slept on the floor as if you were my brother or my father,” she recounted.
“I treated you the way I’d want any friend of mine to be treated,” he replied, though I thought about you for a long time after, he added to himself.
“Well, I appreciate you calling me ‘friend’ and I hope I will be a good one,” she replied.
They rode on in silence after that, and Kestrel slipped off the horse to lighten the load, as he lopped alongside the animal during the midday. Clouds rolled in and rain started to fall, but Kestrel insisted they keep going for hours more, until the night fell and he slipped in the mud twice. They spent the night in the first small town inn they came to, a dreary building that left Moorin somber and depressed when they awoke to the sound of further rain the following morning.
“I know it’s not fun, but we’ll have better weather soon, and Yulia will welcome us to stay in the palace when we make it to Hydrotaz,” Kestrel promised, hoping that his promises would come true.
Over the next three days his promises did not come true. They rode and ran far to the north, to avoid the Graylee army encamped in preparation for a renewed invasion of Hydrotaz. Every day of the ride was wet and cold, and every night the accommodations grew more rustic and less civil. Moorin rode patiently, but Kestrel sensed a growing sense of moroseness within the girl, as she felt herself taken further and further from her home, with only the recent disappointments of her past to dwell on as she rode. She remained bravely quiet, and complained not a whit, but Kestrel felt obliged to find some way to improve the trip for her.
By midafternoon of the fourth day, Kestrel saw an abandoned farmhouse, and he decided to stop, to explore the potential of the house to provide a decent night’s stay. The barn was sound, and the house was dry, with a roof that kept the rain out. “What are we doing?” Moorin asked as Kestrel circled the farmstead to confirm its availability, then rode their horse into the barn.
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows Page 19