Read The Guided Journey (Book 6) Online
Authors: Jeffrey Quyle
They sat together, nibbling on acorn bread, a little old and almost stale, but an apparent treat that Lucretia kept secreted away.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked rhetorically.
“I think I may just want the imps to come fetch me back home to the Forest,” he answered.
“I know Yulia would be sorry to miss breakfast with you tomorrow,” Lucretia answered. “She and I spoke after you were carried to the palace, and she was glad to know you had come to visit her,” the ambassador explained.
“That statue was truly beautiful, Kestrel. Frightening as it was to see it move, it is one of the most wonderful things I have ever seen,” she told him.
“You rest now, and we’ll work out something to get you to the palace in the morning,” she assured him. She stood and left the room, while Kestrel lay on his bed and wondered at it all.
Could he truly have powers within him, he asked himself. He tried to search himself, to feel around inside his soul, looking for the inherent energy that Kai had claimed was his own, the sole means he had used to create the statue. He did not feel it, not clearly and directly, but he did not believe Kai had lied to him.
He had used a great deal of energy – apparently for many consecutive hours – so perhaps he had simply drained himself, he decided. He nibbled on more of the food that Lucretia had left behind, and felt better as his stomach started to feel attended to at last.
He woke up with a start the next morning, having apparently fallen asleep and slept through the night. Lucretia was knocking on his door. “Are you going to the palace?” she asked, as she opened the door. “There aren’t any worshippers outside the embassy yet,” she told him.
He freshened up, and found Lucretia waiting for him at the door. “I’ll walk you there,” she announced, and they cautiously strolled by an indirect route, one that avoided going past Kai’s temple, to reach the palace gates, where the two elves were immediately admitted.
Yulia, Greyson, and Ferris were all waiting when they arrived.
“Let’s not talk about the
statue,” Kestrel said when they all sat down. “I don’t have any answers.”
So they talked about everything else. Kestrel learned that Philip was doing well in Graylee, as was Margo, who had given birth to a little girl.
“I’m going to lead a delegation from my court to visit him next month, and then he’s going to bring a delegation back with us so that he can visit us,” the princess said happily. Ferris talked about leading patrols of guards around the country to re-establish control and respect for the law in all parts, then Kestrel talked about his battle with the Viathins, the discovery of elves and gnomes in the south, and his work to establish himself as a responsible leader in Oaktown.
Before they knew it, Yulia had a staff person standing next to her, ready to lead her to the next appointment.
“I’ll give your affection to Philip and Margo for you,” she promised Kestrel.
“Please do,” he answered as they hugged, and then she was gone, off to be a monarch for her people.
Greysen and Ferris escorted Kestrel and Lucretia out a side gate from the palace, and took them to the jewelers’ street.
No jeweler had enough cash to buy all the jewels that Kestrel had b
rought, though he sold a portion of them.
“They’re the finest fresh water pearls I’ve ever seen,” one jeweler declared. “You’ll need to take them to Graylee to get proper value for them,” he advised.
“I may invite myself to go to Graylee with Yulia,” Kestrel told Lucretia after they had a warm and friendly departure from Ferris and his son. “But for now, I think it’s time for me to return to Oaktown, where life is simpler.”
Chapter 10 – Traders From Hydrotaz
Kestrel ran back to the small village where he had met Mitchell the guardsman on his way into Hydrotaz, and he spent a trouble-free night there, then he ran an extra-long day the following day to return to his manor in Oaktown late at night. He had preferred to spend the night at home, and it felt safe and secure.
“These are worth a great deal of money,” he told Whyte the next morning, as he poured out the unsold pearls he had brought back with him. He showed the steward the stack of coins he had received in Hydrotaz from the pearls he had sold there.
“What are we going to do with all of this money?” he asked the steward. “Do we need anything? Do the people in the villages of the Marches need anything?” he asked earnestly.
“I’m told that the humans wear clothes made from materials that we don’t have?” Whyte half asked and half suggested.
Kestrel thought back to the cotton and wool clothes he had worn so frequently among the humans. Since his return to the Eastern Forest he had reverted to wearing the leather, buckskin, and other, heavier materials that were prevalent among the elves; cotton was a rare commodity among the elves. Lighter cloth would be more comfortable, he realized.
“Do you think our folks will change their ways and wear more such things?” Kestrel asked.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Whyte suggested.
“It’s still a few days until the next market with the imps?” Kestrel asked to confirm.
“Yes, my lord,” Whyte confirmed. “Are you thinking of bringing in human goods to trade?” he asked, suspecting that he knew what his master had in mind.
“Not just human goods; human traders to sell their goods,” Kestrel replied. “Up north, around Firheng they trade with humans from Estone. Why can’t we trade with humans from Hydrotaz?”
“Possibly because we were at war with them not too long ago, and we don’t speak their language?” Whyte replied.
“We can get past that,” Kestrel said dismissively. “I’ll work on the idea,” he told Whyte.
There wasn’t much time to carry out the arrangements, he realized. Even using the imps to facilitate travels, it would be a miracle if he could get everything arranged in just the five days available, especially since it was going to involve travelling right back to Hydrotaz city, where he desperately wished not to travel to.
That afternoon he called the imps, and began a series of travels. The imps under Stillwater knew the palace at Hydrotaz. And so they carried him there, where his appearance with imps only added to the extraordinary reputation he was building up in the city. Yulia was startled by his impromptu appearance, but listened to his proposal, which she immediately grasped would offer benefits to her traders, and she sent off orders for a small group of traders to pack mules with cotton, linen and wool, and to hastily send the pack train towards the border with the Eastern Forest.
Kestrel then borrowed a hooded cloak and went to the embassy, where he startled Lucretia with his appearance. “Do you just love being a holy figure so much that you’ve come back for more?” she asked, before he explained his plan.
“It makes sense,” she agreed. “And if you can build the peaceful and profitable ties among our people, so much the better.
“You know Kestrel,” she alerted him. “I’m going to have to report most of what’s happened here to the king. I have to serve him with information on what’s happening here.”
“I understand,” Kestrel answered. He appreciated the warning about something he hadn’t considered.
He called the imps, who carried him back to Oaktown, where he started arranging for a group of elves to travel with him through the forest toward Hydrotaz, by way of a path that would visit new villages on the way towards the humans, so that he and the nurses could visit more of his subjects and treat them while he was on his way to a rendezvous with the human traders.
Despite the rushed nature of his plans, it ended up working as he wished. He and a half dozen elves went to the small village in Hydrotaz where he had met Mitchell. Their exit from the Eastern Forest was a shock to the elven guard who they passed on their way out, but their promise to return with human guests threw the guard for a loss, an unforeseeable incident that made
Kestrel cringe. They joined the mule train that came in from Hydrotaz city, a half dozen placid animals and nervous merchants. Together, the group journeyed back through the Eastern Forest to Oaktown, eliciting astonishment in the villages they passed through, and the humans were guests in Kestrel’s elven manor the night before the market.
Kestrel ended up sending a group of anxious imps to Hydrotaz the next morning, when he realized he was the only translator available, and an astonished Lucretia was whisked to Oaktown to also help. The market was reconfigured to be larger, and one side of the square was given to the small group of humans.
And then the imps were invited to arrive, and the three races engaged in a free-for-all of bargaining and trading for the next two hours, an astonishingly peaceful interaction that left everyone feeling happier and wealthier.
“I think this is a greater miracle than your
statue,” Lucretia told Kestrel when it was all over, as she prepared to travel via imp-passage back to Hydrotaz.
Kestrel had the human merchants describe the needs and functions of a stable to Whyte and other members of the manor staff, so that he could have one built, and the next day he began the journey to accompany them back to human territory. Three days later he was back in Oaktown.
Following the flurry of activity, Kestrel disappeared into the woods for two days. He went into the forest for solitude, and to pray to Kere, and to try to discover the elusive power that apparently resided within him. He found the solitude, and he prayed fervently to Kere. He worried that the goddess might be upset with him, after his statue-building efforts on behalf of Kai, or feel slighted. He sent prayers silently and aloud, assuring the goddess of his love for her.
I know, silly Kestrel,
he heard her voice in a dream that night
. I know of your love and devotion. I know that you, more than most, can love and serve more than one goddess. Even Kai knows this and accepts it, and she is usually a rather jealous goddess
.
There was no breakthrough in his efforts to find divine power within himself. Kere addressed that in his dream as well.
I told you that you could find it within you
, she reminded him.
You are trying too hard dear boy. You are still a baby when it comes to knowing about this. It will come to you in time, and when you do not try so hard. Let it be calm and let it be a natural thing for you to do,
she urged.
Satisfied that his relationship with Kere was still intact, Kestrel journeyed back to Oaktown. He still was confused about the existence of powers within himself, but he was calmer and more relaxed about everything else. The creation of the
statue remained a singular event, but one that was unknown in Oaktown and therefore not an immediate imposition upon his life or reputation at the manor.
He used the services of the imps to set another Hydrotaz trading group in motion, he set about construction of stables at the manor, he took Remy and the imps to the healing spring to thank them for their assistance, he went out on another healing tour of villages, and the next marketplace occurred in Oaktown with increased trade of goods and goodwill. Kestrel felt like everything was going better than possible in his life, other than his quiet memories of Moorin’s beauty and his longing to find a companion or mate, and his questions about the use of energies.
And then he received the summons to appear at the palace in Center Trunk, and the peaceful interlude came to an end.
Chapter 11
– Center Trunk Events
Kestrel and his regular troupe of healers returned to Oaktown late one afternoon after seeing four villages. Kestrel inspected the nearly complete stables, then encountered Whyte. The steward had a strange expression on his face.
“I hope you had a good journey, my lord. There’s a squad of guardsmen from Center Trunk, here to see you,” Whyte informed him. “They’ve been here since yesterday, and seem rather put out that you were not here to receive them immediately.”
Kestrel paused as he considered the unexpected news. He should have made a personal report to the king by now, he admitted to himself. Apparently the king felt the same way, if he was sending guardsmen to deliver messages. “Invite the guards to meet me in my office, and have some refreshments sent,” Kestrel told the steward.
He went to his office, and waited only moments before four elves entered the room.
“My lord Kestrel?” the officer of the group spoke. He was older than Kestrel, a man who reminded Kestrel of Captain Mastrin, his commander when he had been a low-ranked guardsman in Elmheng.
“Yes sir, captain. Please, you and your men should be seated. Refreshments will be here momentarily.”
“We’ve not got a lot of time, my lord,” the officer replied. “We’re under orders to have you back at the palace within three days, now that we’ve wasted a day waiting for your return to the manor.”
A servant arrived just then, carrying a tray of fruit and juices.
Kestrel pondered what he had just heard. Even with the lost day, which wasn’t really his problem, a three day return trip to Center Trunk would have been an exceedingly ambitious schedule for such a journey. It didn’t seem like the kind of expectation imposed upon a member of the nobility.
“What is your name, captain?” Kestrel asked.
“Captain Lim,” he answered shortly.
“He ought to be Major Lim if he can get us back to Center Trunk that fast,” one of the guardsmen whispered to another as they attended to the refreshments.
“Gentlemen,” the captain reprimanded his men.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but we’ll not get back on time no matter what with this delay, and he looks human enough he won’t be able to keep up with us at a guardsman’s pace,” the elf defended his comment.
“We’ll try until we fail,” the captain said shortly, and Kestrel sighed.
“Allow me to go pack a few things,” Kestrel spoke. “I should be ready in just a few minutes.” He decided he would try to be cooperative. If he really wanted to be cooperative, he reminded himself, he would simply ask the imps to transport them all to Center Trunk, but he would reserve judgment on whether the palace’s escort merited such assistance. Without further comment, he departed from the office, and went to fill a pack with items and clothes, then went to see Whyte.
“I’m apparently summoned to visit the palace in Center Trunk,” Kestrel said. “I don’t know how long this trip will last, so I’d like to ask that you provide me with gold, and I want you to pack a large bag supply of acorns, crickets, typical everyday food, and ask the next human merchants to carry it to the elvish embassy in Hydrotaz.”
“Is everything alright, my lord?” the steward asked.
“I think so, Whyte,” Kestrel tried to be reassuring. He felt that everything would turn out satisfactorily in the end, after Kestrel had a chance to visit the palace and tell his story.
“We were growing worried, my lord,” Lim said when Kestrel returned. The tray of food was empty, and the guards were standing idly by.
“I’ve attended to the bare minimum, captain. I’m ready to go,” Kestrel replied. He had a pack on his back and a knife on his belt and his staff in his hand.
The group departed straightaway from the manor, running through Oaktown at a rapid clip, and then out into the forested countryside beyond. The captain set a fast pace for the group, and Kestrel kept up with them, but he knew that it was much faster than he would be able to maintain for any great length of time.
They ran as darkness settled over the forest and passed through a village that Kestrel had visited only the day before, and still they continued to run. Kestrel felt the sweat running down his face and on his back, while his legs began to protest from the punishing pace. He forced himself to keep going, to maintain his position in the middle of the squad despite his growing discomfort. They were running through the deep darkness of the forest on a moonless night, when even elven vision was tested to see the details of the narrow road they ran along.
Kestrel’s breath started to come in deeper and deeper huffing gasps. The captain acted as though he planned to carry on the murderous pace throughout the entire night.
At last Kestrel could endure no more. He wanted to prove that he could keep up; he wanted to prove that he was no impediment, the equal to the full-blooded elves, but he could go no further. He knew that every stride he awkwardly stretched out to take might be the one that would end in a disastrous misstep and a tumble.
“Squad halt,” Lim called, and Kestrel nearly ran into the man in front of him, as he tried to coast to a stop.
He stood with his hands on his knees, breathing hard, while the guards walked around, their hands on their hips, nearly as pleased by the stop as Kestrel was.
“He ran okay for human blood,” one guard said to another.
“He ran okay for a nobleman,” the other responded.
“He’s supposed to be a big shot,” the third said.
“Silence in the ranks,” Lim put a halt to the chatter. “Usual order for the watch. Everyone up in the trees,” he commanded, and the squad settled down immediately for the night. Kestrel settled into his tree, his pack and staff wedged into place beside him.
“Time to wake up, my lord,” a squad member spoke to him as he tapped Kestrel’s shoulder.
Kestrel woke up with a start. It was still dark; the sun had not started to rise.
“We’ll be on our way in just a few minutes,” the guard said.
“Thanks,” Kestrel said, and began to collect his goods. He ate a mouthful of food from his pack, and moments later they were running once again.
Sunrise happened an hour later. Kestrel wasn’t sure where they were, for the route from Oaktown to Center Trunk was unfamiliar to him, but he was sure they were outside of Oaktown’s jurisdiction.
The captain’s pace was less trying than it had been the night before, but it was still at the extreme limit of what Kestrel could endure. By noon he was ready for a break, and he called out to the officer. “May we stop at the next village?”
There was no answer for ten seconds, and then the captain called back. “Brief stop at the next village.”
They continued on for half an hour more, before a prosperous-looking village came into view. The captain headed towards a tavern, where Kestrel ordered a slab of acorn bread and drank a flagon of berry juice, then ordered a loaf of bread that he stuffed in his pack.
“Move out,” the captain called, as Kestrel waited for his loaf to arrive from the kitchen.
“Just a moment,” Kestrel called to the officer at the door, as he saw the serving girl come out of the kitchen with his bread.
“There are no extra moments, my lord,” the captain answered sternly. “We used all those waiting for you in Oaktown.”
Kestrel stepped over and took his loaf, then stuffed it into his pack as he started to walk to the door.
“It’s not my fault you received such tight orders, captain,” Kestrel said as he passed the man at the door.
“It’s my duty to obey,” Lim replied immediately.
They resumed running the moment the officer closed the door. They ran at the same steady, aggressive pace they had held all morning, and after a brief stop for dinner, they accelerated to the ground-eating pace they had used the night before. Kestrel wore down quickly as darkness fell, and the captain pushed them on their way, running nonstop until Kestrel did stumble and almost fall, and a guard behind him who saw the trip called to the captain.
That’s where they spent the night, then they started running again before dawn, as the captain pursued the impossible goal of reaching Center Trunk on time.
“Why in the world are we pushing this so hard?” Kestrel gasped rhetorically when they stopped at midday to eat.
“Because the major doesn’t like the captain, and set him up to fail, which was guaranteed once you went out gallivanting around the forest,” one of the escorting guards answered.
“That’s enough,” Lim snapped sharply.
Kestrel raised his eyebrows, seeing the situation in a new light.
“Do we have any shot of making it?” he asked, thinking that he might call upon the imps after all.
“Our chances are slim and none,” Lim said, and for the first time, Kestrel heard defeat in the elf’s voice. “We’ll keep going until slim isn’t available. We’re supposed to be at the palace gates by sunset.”
“Let’s go then,” Kestrel said, feeling a different sense of motivation now that he realized the tight deadline was aimed at the captain at least as much as it might be aimed at him.
They started running again, and Kestrel moved up in the squad, sending an unspoken message to Lim that he would cooperate with the effort to meet their deadline. The captain responded by increasing his pace just slightly more, and they continued to fly over the miles in their pursuit of reaching the palace.
“We’re getting close, sir,” one guard called, as the sun approached the horizon, and scattered houses began to appear in the forest, a sign that they were approaching Center Trunk.
“Do we all have to report, or just you and me?” Kestrel gasped out his question.
“Just us, practically speaking,” Lim called back.
Kestrel slipped his pack off his shoulders, then handed it and his staff to one of the escorts. “Let’s go,” he suggested.
“Report to quarters,” the captain told the others, and the
n he and Kestrel began to sprint. They reached the denser settlement, and Kestrel recognized estates and mansions he’d seen before, but the sun continued to fall, and his breath began to come in faster and faster gasps.
“There it is!” Lim’s voice conveyed excitement. Kestrel’s eyes were tearing up, so that his vision was blurry, and he silently accepted Lim’s assertion as they pelted madly to the palace gate.
“Captain Lim, reporting the delivery of Lord Kestrel to the palace, as ordered,” Lim began to shout as he slowed down and they approached the gate.
“Take him inside to the command building,” the guard at the gate replied, and the two arrivals passed through the gate and onto the palace grounds.
“Thank you my lord,” Lim said quietly, as Kestrel wheezed alongside him. “You’ve saved my career from a setback, at least over this. I had no hope of actually meeting this deadline,” he said.
Kestrel was too breathless to reply until they reached their destination, an office building that was close to the actual palace itself.
“Lord Kestrel and Captain Lim, reporting to see Major Grenwort,” Lim told an orderly at the front desk, who told them to proceed.
“Captain Lim, reporting as ordered,” he spoke again upstairs in an upper floor hallway, addressing a guard outside a door of imposing appearance.
The guard nodded, then disappeared inside the office, and Kestrel thought of when he had first come to Center Trunk and met Giardell for the first time, outside of Silvan’s office. So much had happened since then, and he had seen so much since then, he thought, lost in a reverie until Lim elbowed him, and he saw that the door was open for their entrance.
Inside the office was an oval table and two officers. Kestrel recognized neither one, but he reminded himself that he’d spent virtually no time in the capital, since Silvan had
sent him for training in far-off Firheng to be a spy.
“Lim, I would have thought you’d be more presentable when bringing a nobleman to meet superior officers,” one of the men who sat at the table said in a cutting tone.
“And I’d think you’d stand in the presence of the Warden of the Marches,” Kestrel snapped, angry at the officer’s attitude, short of temper in his exhausted state.
The man who hadn’t spoken stood immediately. “Begging your pardon, sir,” he addressed Kestrel. “Captain Vene.”
Kestrel nodded slightly at the man, and watched silently as the other stood in a more leisurely manner.
“Major Grenwort,” he introduced himself.
“Where’s Elder Miskel?” Kestrel asked.
Grenwort’s face looked confused by the unexpected question.
“If I’m this close to the palace, I’d like to see the Elder,” Kestrel was bluffing, too tired to think through his actions, as he felt ready to lash out at the officer whose order had precipitated the long, grueling journey to the capital. “Shall we go find him?” Kestrel pressed Grenwort.
“That’s not necessary at this time,” Grenwort tried to regain the upper hand.
“If I say it’s necessary, then it’s necessary,” Kestrel insisted. “Do you have quarters ready for me in the palace?” he asked.