The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 03 - Road of Shadows

by Jeffrey Quyle

“Kestrel dearest, forgive me. This is Mrs. Divers, my chamberlain. I’m so sorry I didn’t mention her name,” Dewberry suddenly interrupted.

  Kestrel stepped forward, then bowed low over Mrs. Divers’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Divers,” he said.

  “I’m a widow, actually,” she spoke up.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Kestrel replied.

  “It was many years ago, but thank you for your kind words. Now,” the chamberlain looked about, “we need to get you into the palace and cleaned up, and make an appointment to allow you to be presented to the king, so that we can make an appointment for you to talk to him.”

  “Could I just do both things in one appointment?” Kestrel asked.

  “No – heavens no!” Mrs. Divers replied. “You can’t come as a stranger to ask for favors. First you must be introduced, so that you’re not a stranger any longer. Then you may do your diplomatic duty. The wait between meetings won’t be long, only a few days – certainly less than a week.”

  Kestrel started to protest, then stopped himself. He had planned to spend less than a week among the imps, and he still might, but he had to make peace with the king, and a couple of extra days were not an unbearable cost.

  “Let’s be on our way then, shall we?” Kestrel suggested.

  “You can go along, princess, and I’ll escort our guest to his quarters in the palace. Shouldn’t you be at a recital today anyway?” Divers asked.

  “I’ll go right along,” Dewberry agreed. “Call me later Kestrel, so that Jonson and I can come see you,” she said, and then she was gone.

  “She is such a sweet spirit, so good for the palace with her laughter and energy,” Divers told Kestrel as soon as Dewberry disappeared. “She’s not always the steadiest person to rely on to get things done though.

  “Now, come along and follow me,” the chamberlain urged Kestrel as she started to float gently towards the city of the imps. He gathered up his things and jogged along behind her as she approached and then entered the city.

  The entry into the capital of the imps was unlike any city arrival he had ever known. There was virtually no travel or activity at ground level in Blackfriars – no vendors, no shops, no horses or pedestrians or traffic. Instead there were seemingly randomly spaced bases for the tall towers, from which Kestrel could hear voices and sounds wafting downward indistinctly towards the ground. Many of the buildings seemed to have no doors or windows at all at the ground level.

  Kestrel looked upward and saw the frequent passage of imps and sprites floating through the air from space to space in the upper reaches of the buildings.

  “Here, this is the best building for you,” Kestrel lowered his gaze and saw the chamberlain floating in the air next to a stairwell that was built on the exterior of a round tower. Kestrel obediently went over and started climbing up the stairs, the seemingly endless stairs that even Kestrel’s elven leg muscles began to protest against when he was only three quarters of the way up. When he at last reached the top of the stairs, where they led to a door that entered the tower just below the height at where it widened out into a blossom of extraordinary architecture, he pushed the door open then stepped inside and leaned heavily back against the interior wall and rested, breathing heavily.

  “You’re going to need to bathe, I can see,” Mrs. Divers commented. “Fortunately, there is a guest room in this tower with a bathing suite. Just follow me a little further,” she directed. Kestrel obediently pressed himself away from the wall and followed her through hallways and up three more sets of stairways to reach a wide indoor atrium with skylights, and numerous imps present.

  Blue heads turned, and conversations stopped at the sight of the terrestrial being walking through the imp’s space, and Kestrel wasn’t sure if the astonishment the imps felt was positive or negative, until he heard a single voice break the silence. “That’s the elf that saved Jonson in the other world!” and then boisterous conversation commenced at once, and sporadic applause erupted.

  “We’re almost there!” Divers told Kestrel as she approached a doorway. “You’re quite the well-known hero, aren’t you? I had no idea,” she commented as they entered a quiet lobby, and then she led Kestrel to a doorway that opened upon his very own guest room.

  “Your bath is right through this door,” the chamberlain obligingly showed him the way to the bath.

  Kestrel dropped all his belongings on the floor in the center of his room, then went to the bath and pulled off his shirt again without thinking, glad to be free of the damp cloth. He turned on the spigot to begin running a bath, then pulled off his boots. He was just preparing to unbuckle his belt when he realized that Mrs. Divers was still in the bathroom with him, watching him undress.

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” he apologized for his unseemly actions.

  “No apology required this time,” she said as she cleared her throat. “Do you need anything? Do you have any questions I can answer for you at the moment?”

  “No, I’ll just clean up and rest a bit, then come out into the public space. Shall I call you or will you call me next?” he asked.

  “I’ll call upon you this evening,” Mrs. Divers answered, and then she was gone.

  Late that afternoon, after his bath and a nap, Kestrel ventured out of his room, back into the large public space where imps were gathered and socializing with energy. His appearance again caused the crowd to grow profoundly quiet, and Kestrel noticed that a few even disappeared, wafting themselves away from the plaza.

  “Has anyone seen Dewberry or Jonson?” he asked aloud, before he called for them.

  “I’ll go get them for you,” a voice cried out, while new conversations began to twitter aloud.

  Moments later, Jonson appeared. “Kestrel! You’re here! This is a great honor, to have the paramount warrior of the free world here among our people,” the broad-shouldered blue imp announced as he hugged Kestrel. “Would you like to go to court now and meet father?”

  “For my introduction?” Kestrel asked. “Mrs. Divers said I’d have to meet the king for an introduction, then come back to ask a favor, but she didn’t make it sound like I’d meet your father so quickly.”

  “Two meetings? That seems odd, although I’m sure she knows what she’s about,” Jonson dismissed the chamberlain’s etiquette suggestion. “However, since I’m the crown prince, we can perhaps cut through some protocol and just go to the court.

  “Wait here just a minute,” he called before he disappeared. Moments later he returned with two other imps. “These are my brother and sister; you may remember meeting them at the healing spring once upon a time, the first time we met as a matter of fact, when we helped you transport your injured woman friend to the spring.”

  Jonson and the others led Kestrel to a window, as the other imps in the room resumed their conversations. “Could you jump to that building?” Jonson asked, pointing to the tower next door.

  “Yes,” Kestrel answered with a puzzled tone.

  “That’s where father is holding court tonight; it’s his favorite chamber. None of the rest of us like it, but he switched his preferences and decided this was the one for him,” Jonson answered. “If you could jump from here to there so that we don’t have to give you a lift, he can’t get upset at us, and he’ll have to be pleased with you for having traveled so far completely on your own.”

  “Could I go to an upper floor to jump across, to have a little extra distance?” Kestrel asked, and the imps led him up to a nice balcony and hallway he used for his sprint and leap far out into the open, sailing above the open air that descended several stories down to the ground below. He landed lightly on his feet on a wide plaza balcony that was his target.

  “Excellently done!” Jonson’s brother cried.

  “Let’s go meet papa,” the princess imp suggested, “he’ll be in a good mood knowing that dinner is only a few minutes away.”

  Just then Dewberry and Mrs. Divers arrived. “What are you doing?” the chamberlain
asked.

  “We decided to bring Kestrel over to meet father before dinner,” Jonson said. “Would you like to join us?” he asked in a tone that made it clear they would not be diverted.

  “Certainly, your highness,” Mrs. Divers answered deferentially, and she fell in line behind the other blue bodies that floated just above the floor as they surrounded Kestrel and shepherded him along a corridor. They reached a large pair of doors outside of which a pair of guards stood at rigid attention, the most disciplined appearance Kestrel had seen among anyone in the capital of the imps.

  “We’re bringing an ambassador to see his highness,” Jonson told the guards as he pulled one of the doors open and allowed everyone to enter.

  Inside Kestrel discovered a large hearing room, in which a cluster of imps with musical instruments stood at one end, chatting until they fell silent upon Kestrel’s entry, while at the other end the imp who was clearly king floated above an ornate dais, surrounded by four guards and a trio of other imps who were apparent royal advisors, while a few others floated between the ends.

  The room instantly fell into silence as all eyes spotted Kestrel.

  “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” asked one of the advisors.

  “It would be considered unseemly in polite company for a son’s visit to his father to be called an intrusion,” Jonson said coolly.

  “My apologies,” the imp answered without contrition.

  “Welcome, my son, and all. Please come introduce your surprising guest,” the king spoke up.

  “Father,” Jonson said as he approached the dais, “please allow me to introduce an emissary who comes from the elven kingdom. This is Kestrel, now the lord of the elven lands that border upon your kingdom, the Warden, as the elves style the position, and more importantly, the great friend of Dewberry, myself, and all the imps who were rescued from captivity in the other lands. Kestrel is the elf warrior who has battled ceaselessly against these monster lizards, the Viathins, that endanger our lands.”

  The king and his advisors grew visibly tense at the introduction of Kestrel, and even the body guards changed their posture, Kestrel noted with surprise.

  “Your majesty, I was surprised when the elven king named me as the Warden of the Marches last fall. I apologize that I have not been a good neighbor and paid a visit to you sooner. I have known your heir from the time before I ever imagined that I would be in this position, and I hope that I can have a friendship between your people and lands and my people and lands, a friendship that will be as strong as my friendship with your son,” Kestrel made his speech, hoping that he was patching up the perceived slight he had created by not coming to speak to the king sooner. He didn’t see any way that he could have come to see the king any sooner, but there was no point in quibbling over the points of his activities since his appointment to the nobility.

  “What can I do to demonstrate my sincere desire for friendship between our peoples?” he asked.

  Jonson nodded encouragingly to Kestrel, as one of the advisors to the king floated over and whispered in the monarch’s ear. “Neighbor,” the king spoke aloud to Kestrel, “is it true that even though you are an elf, you were named by a human goddess to be the champion of that race?”

  “Yes, your majesty, that is true,” Kestrel answered, surprised by the question.

  “And did the goddess bestow her favor upon you by placing a protective marking over your chest, making you impervious to arrows and attacks? May we see that legendary marking?” the king asked.

  “The mark is gone, your highness,” Kestrel answered. “The goddess did give me her protection, but I had to surrender it, when I was with Jonson and Dewberry and the others.”

  “So you have no such protection any longer?” the king repeated.

  “No my lord,” Kestrel confirmed, confused by the line of questioning.

  The king turned to the advisor who had spoken to him. “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Shoot him!” the advisor turned to the guards surrounding the king. “All of you shoot him dead! He is an enemy of our greater goals!”

  Three of the guards pulled bows off their backs to the astonishment of Kestrel, and hastily took aim at him, while the fourth guard disappeared. Kestrel stared in horror at Jonson for a moment, then dove to the ground and rolled away as the fourth guard reappeared behind where Kestrel had stood, his knife poised to strike a blow, and three arrows were launched at the same location.

  The translocated guard was pierced by all the arrows with Kestrel’s quick dive out of the way and fell to the ground, as the room erupted in screams and shouts. Dewberry disappeared, Kestrel saw, as he rolled back behind the body of the dead guard, pulled a knife from out of his belt and hastily hurled it at one of the arrow-shooting guards.

  A second flurry of arrows flew at Kestrel, and one sank into his left shoulder. At the same time, the knife Kestrel had thrown pierced the chest of its targeted guard, dropping him to the ground.

  “Father! Father, what madness is this?” Jonson cried.

  “Shoot them!” Dewberry cried, as she returned to the room, and a pair of sprite archers with her shot at the guards, hitting them both.

  Suddenly bereft of their arms men, the king and his counselors looked at one another, then the counselors surrounded the king and they disappeared from the room.

  “Kestrel beloved, are you alright?” Dewberry asked as she whizzed through the chamber to settle in beside him as he lay on the floor gasping in pain and shock.

  “I think so,” he answered. “What happened? Will they come back?”

  “Jonson, will the criminals return to commit more crime?” Dewberry called loudly.

  “I do not know. I cannot comprehend what has happened here,” Jonson answered in shock.

  And at that moment a squad of armed imp guards appeared near the ceiling of the room, and plunged downward, knives held in front of them.

  “Jonson! Help me!” Dewberry screamed as the warriors approached.

  Jonson appeared next to Dewberry and Kestrel. “Just we two!” he shouted, and as the tips of the attacking knives appeared ready to skewer the two young lovers and Kestrel, the three of them translocated away from the bloody throne room. Kestrel tried to focus his attention on what was happening – he was still stunned by the unexpected attack, and he slowly realized as they left the throne room that they seemed to be hanging in the dark, airless void for longer than usual without arriving at a new location. Just as he wondered how he could manage to ask a question of his two friends to find out what their situation was, they suddenly were back in a world of breathable air, bright sunshine, and the calming sounds of water running through a forest.

  Kestrel gasped loudly, inhaling air in great gulps, then he turned, and saw another horrific sight – both Dewberry and Jonson had knives protruding from their stomachs, and neither was conscious. “Dear goddess!” Kestrel gasped, and he rolled over, despite the pain of the arrow in his shoulder to stare at the deadly injuries more closely. At that moment the rest of his environment came into focus, and he realized he was lying on the grassy bank of the healing spring in the Eastern Forest.

  He struggled up and grabbed Dewberry with his good hand, and pulled her over to the water, where he plunged her into the water, then did the same with Jonson. Kestrel eased himself into the water beside them, to first splash some of the healing liquid upon his shoulder, a handful at a time, and then to examine his two rescuers closely. They were both alive, he saw with relief, and they were unconscious, deeply unconscious now that they were plunged into the waters of the spring, he knew.

  Kestrel looked at the knives that protruded in ghastly fashion from the two torsos. Cautiously, he pinched two fingers on the small knife that had been carried to the spring by Dewberry’s body, and he gently extracted it from his friend, then threw the knife up onto the bank. Satisfied that there was no reaction from the sprite, and seeing no gush of blood from the wound, as the flowing magical water steadily washed its healing powe
rs over the injury, Kestrel reached across Dewberry, and silently did the same for her husband. Then he tried to use the imp-sized knife to help him remove the arrow from his own flesh, but gave up at the impossibility of carrying out the painful procedure with only one hand.

  After that, he just sat and stared at the forest, and tried to decipher what had happened at the court of the imp king. How and why had Jonson’s father acted so treacherously? Jonson and all the other sprites appeared to have been as completely shocked as Kestrel had been by the ambush that had taken place.

  The minds of imps and the sprites weren’t supposed to be able to be controlled by the Viathins. Kestrel couldn’t understand how the imp king could have ordered such a terrible attack without being under the influence of the Viathins, and he couldn’t figure out how the Viathins could have exercised their powers over the king. It was a conundrum that had no answer.

  Kestrel was also curious about the way the king had departed; he had appeared to rely on his advisors to carry him away, just as Kestrel had to rely on sprites and imps to carry him about. Could there be some peculiar illness that both deprived imps of their powers to travel and also caused temporary insanity, he wondered?

  He would have to wait for Dewberry and Jonson to heal and revive, he told himself, and he would have to thank them for having saved his life.

  When the sun had crept far across the afternoon sky, he judged that the two small blue beings had soaked in the healing water long enough to carry their bodies back towards health. He still carried the shaft of the small arrow in his own shoulder, which slowed his work as he lifted each of his friends from the water, then laid them on the grassy bank by the spring-fed pool of water.

  He poked Dewberry gently, until he saw her face twitch finally, and he knew he was rousing her from the extraordinary dreams that the spring water induced. “Kestrel dearest,” she smiled at him after her eyes opened. “I had such lovely dreams.

  “Where are we? Your arm? The palace?” the disturbing reality of her situation flew at her, and her hand felt the spot in her stomach where she had been injured; her fingers played in the wet cloth material, poking through the hole where the knife that had stabbed her had sliced through her clothes.