The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows

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The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows Page 22

by Jeffrey Quyle


  “I don’t have any choice,” he answered. “I have to see them to get into the palace to see Yulia; it’s a drop of her blood I need to complete the powers of this water that can ward away the influence of the Viathins,” he answered. “And it sounds like the Viathins still have those in the city they can cast their influence over.”

  “Will you be safe?” Moorin asked. “Can I do anything to help you? I’m good with a bow,” she reminded Kestrel of her efforts in the brief barnyard battle at the abandoned farmhouse.

  “Your room is ready and the tub has been filled,” a servant came from the front desk to inform them.

  They walked upstairs together. “I will try to go on my own today, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll both go tomorrow,” he answered after pondering what to do. “In the meantime,” he said as they opened their room door and felt the steamy moisture rising from the bath tub to fill the air in their room, “I think I know what you might want to do instead.”

  Moorin pulled the hat off her head at last, then threw it on their bed and ran her fingers through her hair as she massaged her scalp. “How I dislike wearing that!” she exclaimed. “I’ll be so glad when we get someplace I don’t have to hide who I am any longer!”

  She pulled her blouse up over her head, and gave a sigh of relief, then looked back at Kestrel as she prepared to toss it to the floor, and her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking; I’ve grown so used to being with you I didn’t mean to do that,” she said as she stood in the thin half shirt she wore underneath.

  Kestrel stared at her figure for a moment longer, then tore his eyes away, and looked around the room. They’d been carefully proper throughout their journey, perhaps even more so since their words of engagement, but Kestrel had felt her body pressed against his back as they had ridden their horse across the wide plains, and he was acutely aware of the enticing contours of her body.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stared,” he replied. He walked to the door and pulled it open. “I’ll just go to the palace now and try my luck,” he told her, then pulled the door closed behind himself and quickly padded down the stairs, carrying his staff, with his knife on his hip, as he prepared to begin to adjust to being around a hostile human population again.

  He took a deep breath before he opened the door of the inn and stepped out into the street. He needed to think like a spy again, at least in part, to make sure he kept himself safe, and kept Moorin safe in the hostile city. He needed to act and look as innocuously human as possible. He followed the directions from the desk and crossed the square to follow a wide boulevard towards the waterfront. Hydrotaz was a smaller city than Graylee, and less luxurious, with more buildings constructed of brick or stucco, and few made of marble. Some buildings were randomly demolished, hit by some catastrophe that had left them as shattered hulks or mounds of rubble.

  He paused just as the palace gates came into sight, and then stopped. He was standing in front of a large building that had formerly been one of the few built of marble; a once imposing edifice was half knocked apart, standing in front of rubble that had fallen to the ground inside a large, hollow interior space. From the defaced statute that stood at the entrance, Kestrel could tell that the forlorn structure had once been the temple to Kai.

  “If you stand here looking too long, someone will pay attention,” a voice spoke anonymously behind him. Kestrel looked to see who had given him the advice to move along, but no one stood out in the moving stream of passersby. Kestrel turned in the other direction, and started walking again, heading towards the palace, as he thought about the ruined temple, and the weakness that Kai suffered from. He had pondered whether he could try to return her energy to her, and had hoped to find a priest from her temple he could talk to; but clearly there was no opportunity for such a conversation.

  As he approached the front of the palace, Kestrel could see unusually heavy numbers of guards assigned to the gate, and apparent gangs of idle men who stood closely clustered together at various locations around the plaza that faced the gate. Kestrel suspected they were not friendly groups, and he gathered an impression of a palace under siege inside its own capital.

  He paused in the middle of the plaza, as he deliberated whether it was wise to go up to the gate or to try to find some other way to seek out his acquaintances. There was no other way that he knew of; even back in his spy training days, when Silvan had required him to learn so much, when he had learned of Castona in Estone as a safe contact in that human city, there was no such safe contact for an elf in Hydrotaz; the city and the nation were too violently opposed to the elven race for the elves to find human friends there.

  As such, he reasoned, he would have to risk the gate, so he strode forth and addressed the guards who watched him approach. “I would request an audience with Ferris or Greysen, if they serve here at the palace in the service of the Princess,” he stated.

  “The father and son?” one guard asked after looking Kestrel up and down. “For what purpose?”

  “Just to say hello and renew the acquaintance,” Kestrel answered.

  “You’ve got an accent; where are you from? How’d you meet them?” another guard wanted to know.

  “I’m from Estone, and I met them up in northern Hydrotaz last fall, when the princess had just returned,” Kestrel answered carefully, trying to make sure his answers were suitable. “I’m a trader from Estone,” he added.

  “A trader from Estone?” a third guard repeated in wonder. “I’ve never met anyone from Estone.”

  “Well, since it’s such a new experience for you, why don’t you go to the royal guard’s armory and see if Ferris or Greysen are there,” the first guard directed the third. “What name should he say is here?”

  “Kestrel – tell them Kestrel has returned,” he answered.

  “You stand right over there, where I can see you,” the guard said, pointing towards the outside of the wall to his right. Kestrel obligingly walked over and leaned against an unclaimed portion of the palace wall, where he settled in to wait patiently, keeping his eyes and ears open as he closely scrutinized everything he could in the vicinity. The tense atmosphere worried him, as the various elements on the square indicated a dangerous situation that could turn violent at any moment, and he began to wonder if he should simply give up on doing anything in Hydrotaz. His simplest goal was to find a drop of blood from a royal female, and he could go to Center Trunk for that if he had to. He wouldn’t achieve as much in the immediate, wider fight against the influence of the Viathins if he settled for security in the Eastern Forest instead of Hydrotaz, but he and Moorin would be safer.

  “Kestrel?” he heard his name called, as one of the guards at the gate looked at him. He walked over to the guard expectantly.

  “You’ve been summoned by Greysen to enter the palace and meet him. This is your escort,” the guard pointed to a pair of guards in a different uniform, a dark gray outfit with blue striping, who waited inside the palace grounds. Kestrel bumped past the security in the crowded gateway to reach his escort, who promptly turned and entered a doorway in a building behind them.

  “Who are we going to see?” Kestrel asked. “Greysen or Ferris?”

  “Greysen sent us to bring you in,” one of the guards replied. Kestrel realized that both the guards were young, not much older than Greysen himself was. They passed through a slightly shabby palace structure that clearly had suffered from a lack of upkeep, as Kestrel observed that the formerly regal building that had been misused – there were marks on the walls, empty candle scones, places where large swathes of gold leaf had been pulled off the beams in the ceiling.

  The two silent guards exited the building and crossed a yard, then came to a plain brick building with large windows, through which Kestrel saw several men practicing their sword work and weapons. “Greysen is in charge of the armory,” one of the guards told him as they entered. “His office is back there,” he pointed to the end of the building, where Kestrel saw a figure w
aving from a doorway.

  Kestrel walked down a passage between the practice pads, and immediately recognized Greysen, grown more muscular and angular since they had last met. “Kestrel!” the boy shouted as they got close, and then they hugged in a happy reunion. Greysen held him at arm’s length and looked closely at him. “I recognize you, but it’s a little different this time,” he said. “Come in,” he motioned to the office door behind him, and shut the door when they were inside.

  “Kestrel! It’s so good to see you! Where have you been? Is everything okay?” the boy asked as they sat down.

  “I have been in many places,” Kestrel answered. “I just came from Graylee.”

  “Graylee? How did you get here from there? I hear the armies are building up on the border,” Greysen interrupted.

  “It took a detour pretty far north to find a way around trouble,” Kestrel told him. “I saw Philip; he’s still in the city fighting against the prince.”

  “Princess Yulia would be glad to hear that,” Greysen told him. “Although she’s so hard to predict these past few weeks, I’m sure any word of Philip would please her.”

  “Is she having problems?” Kestrel asked.

  “She changed a few weeks ago, at the same time my father did, and now they both seem unpredictable and angry all the time. I don’t see much of either one of them,” he said.

  “I need to see her,” Kestrel replied. “I’ve learned a lot about the problems from Uniontown, and how to fight them.”

  “You know, I think she likes Uniontown now, but she still wants to go to war with Uniontown’s ally, Graylee,” Greysen told him. “I don’t know why she’d like Uniontown for that matter!”

  Kestrel felt a chill come over him, a premonition of trouble. “Are there any of the monster lizards here in the city?” he asked.

  “Yes. The palace has a swimming pool that is kept warm all winter, and when we took over the palace, we found some of those monsters in there. We just let them stay there as something to look at,” Greysen answered, confirming Kestrel’s fear.

  “Greysen, those monster have the ability to control people; they can make them do evil things. That’s how Uniontown spreads its power is through the lizards, the Viathins they’re called,” he explained. “We need to go kill the monsters.”

  “They control people?” Greysen asked skeptically.

  “I don’t understand how they do it, but they can make people obey their wishes,” Kestrel reiterated. “We need to kill them, and any others that might be in the city, for one thing, and then we need to give everyone something to make them immune to the influence of the Viathins,” Kestrel told his young friend.

  “I can show you where the monster lizards in the palace are, and I don’t care if you kill them, but this seems hard to believe,” Greysen said.

  “Did it seem hard to believe that I was an elf coming to rescue you from the yellow palace? Did it seem hard to believe that we could turn invisible? Did it seem hard to believe that a drink of special water could heal wounds?” Kestrel asked rhetorically. “These are strange times, Greysen, and many strange things are happening around us.”

  The boy considered Kestrel’s points. “You’re right – it all seems like something that can’t happen. But a couple of years ago I wouldn’t have thought that my country would face an invasion, then a rebellion, and now another invasion,” he decided. “I will trust you Kestrel. Let’s go see where the lizards are,” he stood up, and led Kestrel out of the office and armory.

  “The pool is next to the garden,” Greysen explained as he led Kestrel through the main palace building to a garden on the other side. “There,” he pointed to a building with many windows along the walls, and a small brick chamber on one end that had a tall chimney from which a steady plume of smoke gently rose.

  As they approached the building, a pair of guards suddenly stepped forward. “The pool is closed,” one of them spoke, as the other placed his hand in his sword.

  “Thank you,” Kestrel responded, as he grabbed Greysen’s shoulder.

  “We were just passing through,” Greysen agreed, and they turned to quickly leave the garden.

  “That’s the first time that’s ever happened,” Greysen said. Kestrel said nothing, but worried about the coincidence of the Viathins being protected just when he arrived, just after Yulia had possibly been placed under their influence.

  “I’ll leave you now,” Kestrel told Greysen. “But I’ll come back tomorrow. In the meantime, could you test your father for me, and Yulia too if you see her? Ask them if they’d like to see me again; I’d like to know their reaction. Don’t tell them you’ve seen me; just check on whether I’d be welcome.”

  “Surely the princess would remember that you saved her life, and that you went away to make life easier for her. I’m sure she’ll say she misses you,” Greysen said in a tone that reflected some uncertainty about his assertion.

  “I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” Kestrel said as they walked towards the gate. They shook hands and then he was out of the palace, and on his way back to the inn. As he entered the main square, he noticed a surly-looking knot of men standing not too far from The Golden Seat, watching the inn as they spoke among themselves. Their appearance triggered a sense of concern in Kestrel, and he altered his course to circle around the plaza and walk closely past them, listening to the words that passed among the members.

  “You’re sure there’s an elf in there?” he heard one man ask another, and he felt his heart skip a beat as he kept on walking by.

  As soon as he was inside the door of the inn he climbed the stairs two at a time and burst through the door of the room he had planned to share with Moorin, then stopped. She stood next to the bath tub, a towel wrapped around her hair, as she reached for another towel, not another stitch of covering on her body. Kestrel swallowed hard, his mission and anxiety not forgotten, but suddenly in conflict with his reaction to seeing Moorin unclothed, her body shimmering with moisture.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Moorin, wrapped the towel she sought around her torso. “Well, Kestrel?” she asked.

  “Moorin – Moorin!” Kestrel shut the door behind him. “I think we need to sneak out of here; there were men in the square talking about an elf staying in the inn. Get dressed quickly,” he told her as he went to the window and opened the curtains.

  “Oh, Kestrel,” she wept the words. “Why are they so hateful?”

  “It’s both the Viathins and the way of the country and how they see elves – we’re the enemy,” he said. He averted his eyes as he saw her drop the towel and start to pull on clothes. “You get dressed, and I’ll go get our horse from the stables. I’ll ride beneath the window, and you can jump out. We’ll leave the city immediately,” he assured her.

  He walked back to the door, lingering for a moment more as Moorin pulled on her clothes, then he opened the door and started towards the stables. As he reached the top of the staircase there was a sudden increase in noise from downstairs, and he saw the members of the mob starting to enter the lobby, heading towards the registration table. With a swift turn, Kestrel headed back to the room, where Moorin was pushing their belongings together into their pack.

  “They’re inside already. Let’s go,” Kestrel said tersely, running to the window and lifting the sash. “I’ll go first,” he told her as he crouched on the window sill. They heard the sound of boots on the staircase, and looked at each other, then Moorin rushed over to the window.

  Kestrel leapt, and landed solidly. He turned and looked up where he saw Moorin with one leg already out the window as he heard the sound of crashing timber, and then she was falling towards him. He caught her in his arms, and fell to the ground, cushioning her relatively light, partially-elven frame from impact with the alley paving stones. Hand in hand, they sprang up together and started running, followed by shouts from the angry men who hung out of the window.

  Kestrel bolted down the alley with Moorin just a half step behind him, following his
lead, then swerved out into the square. They were both running with the speed of their elven heritage, buzzing past startled groups of bystanders in the late afternoon as they sought to distance themselves from the angry men who chased them. Once across the square they turned and fled along a road lined with shops, then cut through another alley, then entered a dim interior courtyard of a shabby housing tenement, where Kestrel led them into a basement stairwell. They crouched down and panted heavily to catch their breath, momentarily free of pursuit.

  “We’re safe,” Kestrel said, as he failed to hear any sound from followers.

  “For the moment,” Moorin said, looking at him. “How do we get out of here, and where do we go?”

  “Moorin, my lady, I am so sorry for getting you into this mess,” Kestrel said, staring intently into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought you here; I should have thought about how dangerous this might be. We are going to have to do something differently now.

  “My first goal is to keep you safe,” he told her, taking both her hands in his. “We’ll leave Hydrotaz as quickly as possible, and we’ll run to the Eastern Forest, where I can take you to my home,” he thought about the manor house in Oaktown. It was technically his home, a gift from the king, thought Kestrel could hardly bring himself to call it home when he’d only spent a few brief nights there as a visitor. Nonetheless, it would be something closer to the type of lodging that Moorin was due, and it would be in a much friendlier environment.

  “Do you feel ready to stretch out your legs?” he asked.

  “What about the horse?” Moorin said.

  “I’d like to take him, but we can’t go back to that inn,” Kestrel said decisively. “We’ve got elven legs, don’t we?”

  “I assume you do, and you certainly had a chance to see my legs to judge for yourself,” Moorin answered with a smile, the first sign Kestrel had seen that she was recovering from the shock of their hasty retreat. “Did they look like elven legs to you?”

 

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