The Guided Journey (Book 6) (7 page)

“Let me take your boys in the water.  They’ll enjoy it,” Kestrel urged the woman.  “You’d like it too if you’d just relax and soak in the spring.  He climbed up, and the woman quickly turned her head.

“Here,” Kestrel helped one of the boys stand.  Their clothes were only simple smocks, he realized, and he lifted the cover off the first boy.  “We’re going in the water, just trust me,” he told the boy and he guided him forward and then splashed into the pool with him.

“This is fantastic!” the boy squealed with delight.  “Come in Gallie!” he called to his brother.

Kestrel guided him through the water to where the other two boys sat, and they settled him into a safe niche, as his mother watched from across the pool.  Kestrel returned and helped the second boy enjoy the spring as well.

“Are you going to come in?” Kestrel asked from halfway across the water, speaking to the mother.

“Why?   What do you think will happen to me?” she asked in a distrustful tone.

“You’ll enjoy the water,” Kestrel said simply.

She stepped over to the edge of the pool, sat at the edge and dipped her feet in the water, then sat there slowly paddling them back and forth for a long, silent minute.  “Don’t any of you look,” she said, as though the darkness weren’t providing significant privacy, even given the keen eyesight of elves. 

Kestrel paddled backwards to the site where the boys were all seated, and saw the dim, slim lithe figure of the woman slip into the water. 

“Where can I sit?” she asked.

“There are other stones over there, but the water is warmer,” Kestrel pointed.

He watched the woman’s head seem to float above the water’s surface as she moved across the pool, and became a lighter shade among the far rocks.

She remained in place, then came back.  “It’s too hot,” she said.

“There’s cooler water down that way, but no rocks to lie on,” Kestrel indicated, and watched her move down the pool.  She took her time exploring, but then settled into a spot not far from where the imps were resting.  She was probably on an extension of the sand bar that Kestrel relied on to hold the imps.

She was leaning back, prone so that most of her body was below the surface of the spring.  “Come here and talk to me,” she commanded.

“You stay here,” Kestrel said to the boys who were there, then he launched himself into the pool and languidly swam towards her.

He stopped when he was close, and sat down where the sand began to incline downwards.  He could see the rippled water’s distorted exposure of the woman’s long, lean elven figure, and he felt an awareness of her, a fleeting reminder of the fact that he had no lover, no woman he could be intimate with in any way – that Moorin was gone and settled far, far away.

“I met a sprite at this spring the first time I came here,” he tried to open the conversation.

“This is all crazy.  What are we doing here?  Is this some kind of
impossible dream?” the woman asked.

“What’s your name?” Kestrel asked.

“Amjay,” she answered.

“Amjay,” Kestrel spoke softly.  “We met a man who said he was your husband on the street.”

“Was he drunk?” she asked.

“Yes,” Kestrel said only the one word.

“That was probably my husband,” she stoically affirmed.

“He said that when you heard about the spring water and the healing we offered to the village, that you would demand we work on your boys.  They sounded like a great challenge, and a chance for us to make a real difference, so we came to your house.

“I’m sorry I was so abrupt in bringing your family here,” he apologized.  “I just knew that the spring water would heal them.”

“That’s impossible!” Amjay said loudly.  “That’s impossible,” she repeated in a softer voice.  She sat up, and when Kestrel’s head involuntarily tilted to momentarily examine her slim elven chest, she dropped back into the water.

“Just wait,” Kestrel said.  “Soaking in all this water will be good for them.  I’ll leave a skin full of water for you, and if you just dabble a little on their eyes and shoulders every day, I think you’ll start to notice changes.  Just give this a chance,” he almost pleaded.

“I want to help the folks of Little Wheel – all the folks.  You, your boys, and everyone,” he babbled a little as he tried to explain his action.  “There’s no real point to ruling a manor unless I try to rise to be as good as I can and help as many people as I can.”  It was inelegantly stated, but it was perhaps as close as anything he had ever verbalized that captured his feelings about the obligations of being in power.

“There are two nurses with us as well who came from Oaktown, and tomorrow we’ll do as much as we can for the people of the village.”

“And then what?” she asked.

“Then we’ll go to the next village,” he answered simply.

“What did you say your name was?” Amjay asked.  There was less hostility in her voice, more curiosity.

“I’m Kestrel,” he answered.

“This water feels good.  I can almost believe it does something magical,” she conceded.

“It feels even better down where the water is warmer.  I don’t think it’s any more magical; it just feels good,” he agreed.

“You go on back over there with the boys and leave me alone now,” she told him, and he complied, hopeful that her calmer demeanor meant he had allayed her fears.

They all relaxed in the water for the next several minutes, until Remy and Pont started swimming in the deeper water, splashing one another and frolicking so much that Amjay left her spot to skirt around them and move into the warmer, deeper water closer to Kestrel.  Moments later she rose out of the water and rubbed her hands down her torso to scrape the water off her body, then she got dressed and sat on the lawn.

Her boys had received
enough water for a first thorough soaking, Kestrel decided.  It was time to go rouse the imps and return to the village.  He called Remy and Pont back to stay with the blind twins, then went across the pool to the imps, and started pulling the large body of blue beings out of the spring’s delightful water, laying them upon the ground.

“What have you done to them?” Amjay asked from across the water.

“It’s not ‘to’ them; it’s ‘for’ them,” Kestrel answered.  “One of their greatest joys is visiting this spring and falling asleep and dreaming in the waters of the pool.  I put them in, and then I pull them out after a while.  They’ll wake up in a bit, and then take us all back to your village.

“We might as well get your sons out of the water too,” he added, as he lifted the last imp, then turned and started to cross back to where the boys sat on the rocks.

He guided the two boys one at a time to the bank where their mother waited, and lifted them up to her, so that she could pull their clothes over them, while Kestrel tried to discreetly climb out nearby, and pull his own pants on hurriedly, while he faintly saw the imps starting to awaken and get dressed.

There was a massive migration of imps across the water minutes later, as Remy and Pont were called out of the spring.

“Shall we return you to your elf village, Kestrel-dream-giver?” Mulberry asked, as she reached Kestrel first.  “That was so refreshing!”

“Yes, please take the lady elf first, then the young elves, and I’ll go last,” Kestrel instructed.

“I can travel alone this time?” Amjay asked after she had started to edge towards Kestrel.  “I thought there was some reason I had to travel with you.”

Kestrel grinned.  “
We can be together again if you like; the pleasure would be all mine.”

She arched an eyebrow, then motioned for the imps to take her home, which they promptly did.

“Why don’t we just sleep here, with this family?” Remy asked when they all returned to the small house on the edge of the village.

Kestrel glanced at Amjay for just a second, as he considered the suggestion.  She had not issued the invitation; the house was too small, they were strangers and had no right to impose, he told himself.  “We’ll have a good time out in the forest,” he responded, just as he saw the woman start to speak.  “You boys need to practice being elves; when I was in the guard I slept in trees all the time.”

“Are you sure?” Amjay asked hesitantly.

Kestrel looked at her again, directly, and he too hesitated.  “Yes, I’ll take the boys out.

“Here’s a water skin for you,” he added, pulling one of the straps off his shoulder and handed it to her.  “We’ll be back tomorrow morning in the village square.  Come see us,” he told her.

“We liked the spring!” one of her boys said.

“It felt nice,” the other agreed.

And with that Kestrel and his two young companions were out of the house, and trott
ed along the road that quickly became a narrow trail in the woods as it left the village and entered the surrounding forest.  They didn’t go far before Kestrel brought them to a stop and sent the boys up separate trees, as he picked one for himself, and they settled in to a sound night’s sleep.

Chapter 5 – Mushroom Market

Kestrel and the boys awoke after sunrise, on an overcast day that promised to release spring showers at some point.  They trouped into town, and went to the tavern, where they ate breakfast and waited for the nurses to arrive.  Shortly after they received their toasted acorns and forest greens, the nurses came down the stairs, each carrying a large bag of the medical supplies that they had made Remy and Pont carry for them.

“What’s the point of coming here to treat this village if all you’re going to do is sit in the tavern and drink?” Parisse asked as the two set their bags down by the door.

“She’s asked a sensible question, you know,” Jacquie added with pursed lips as the two sisters looked at the trio in disapproval.

“Let’s move a couple of tables out into the square,” Kestrel suggested to the boys.  “Remy, you hold the door open.  Pont grab that end of the table,” he directed, and within five minutes they had two stout tables from the inn spaced apart on the grass and dirt square.

The males went back inside to finish their cooled meal, while the two nurses scrupulously set out their supplies and established their individual versions of orderliness. 

Minutes later Kestrel and the two boys stepped out of the inn, their food consumed, and found two short lines of village residents forming by each nurse, as the residents curiously offered themselves up for treatment of their various ills and ailments.  Kestrel and the boys drifted back and forth between the two tables, listening and watching as the women proved to be surprisingly gentle and calm as they spoke to their patients, and offered a variety of treatments.

There was a slight murmur in the crowd, and Kestrel turned to see that Amjay was walking slowly towards the tables, one hand on the shoulder of each of her sons.

“She never brings them out,” Kestrel heard more than one observer murmur, and he hurried over to intercept her.

“It’s good to see you,” Kestrel told her as he placed a hand on the shoulder of one of the boys, and slowed down to the same shuffling pace the family used.   “I hope the nurses don’t find any problems to make you think I’m a liar,” he said as they reached one of the tables.  “After spending so much time soaking in the spring water last night, there shouldn’t be any little aches or pains.”

“I wanted the nurses to examine them,” she motioned to her sons, after she seated them at a table.  “I swear it feels this morning like there’s a bit of a bump coming out of their shoulders,” she cupped her hands where their arms should have protruded.

“There is something there,” Jacquie agreed as she examined them as well.

“See mom, I told you it felt different,” one of her boys exclaimed.

“Bring the imps back! I want to tell them,” the other boy said.

“They’ve been begging for the imps all morning,” Amjay said apologetically.

“Dewberry,” Kestrel called.  “I’ll invite the queen of the imps for you,” he told the boys.  “Dewberry, Dewberry.”

After a two second pause, his friend appeared, and the small crowd in the village square squealed in unison.

“What makes you call me now, Kestrel-traitor, when you did not invite me to the party at the spring last night?  That was our place, I thought, where you first saw and fell madly in love with me!

“What is that?” she interrupted herself and darted over to the table of the other nurse, Parisse, where she grabbed a mushroom cap that the nurse had been placing atop a small skin rash.

“This is what you called me for?  You are the greatest of friends!  I will let you kiss me once again, my great Kestrel-gourmet friend!” the sprite was flying around in agitated circles, her eyes focused only on the mushroom cap, a creamy gray piece of soft fungus flesh, that she held up in her hands like a trophy.

“This is the great one – the gray plate!  You’ve found the greatest delicacy in the imp culinary arts!  Wait until Jonson finds out that you’ve located one,” she rejoiced.

“Can I have that back to finish my treatment?” Parisse asked in a disapproving tone.

“Treatment?  You have healing water from the spring?” Dewberry indicated the water skins that were strewn about the scene, “You need nothing else for healing.  And this is too valuable for anything except the king’s own feast anyway!”

“That old thing?” Jacquie asked scornfully.  “I could pick two dozen of those a day from the patch near our house.  We use them all the time for skin ailments.”

“Dozens?” Dewberry hung motionless in the air, and seemed to visibly quiver.

“Kestrel-friend dearest,” she flew over and hovered directly in front of him, one small hand stroking his cheek.  “What must we do to import these items of great value from your domain?  Shall we declare war and invade, or shall  we sign a trade treaty between the imps of the swampy morass and the lord of the manor of Oaktown?”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Kestrel said mildly.

Dewberry surprised him be kissing him soundly on the lips, and the crowd that had gathered around them cheered.

“We will be in touch with you soon.  I will show this to Jonson, and his minister will draft a treaty with you,” Dewberry promised, and then she was gone.

“Did you see that?  Did you hear?  Our lord is the friend of the imps!” someone exclaimed in the crowd.

“My goodness my lord!” Jacquie exclaimed.  “What will our mushrooms do?”

“They’ll give you new friends and a lot of money, I would venture!” Kestrel said dryly.

“Let’s finish healing the folks we have here, and then we need to move on to the next village,” Kestrel told the nurses.

“Line up my friends; line up to be treated by the nurses, so they can give everyone some better health,” he told the crowd of villagers who had gathered.

“Are you the lord of the imps and elves?” someone shouted.

“I’m just the lord of the manor,” Kestrel tried to dampen the excitement.  “I’m a friend of the imps, that’s all.”

“There’s never been an elf like that before,” someone said.  “And he gets along with humans too, I hear.  He’s here taking care of us – he’s the best lord Oaktown’s ever had!”

There was a rousing cheer, then folks grew orderly and began to line up as Amjay stepped over towards him.  “I’m sorry I doubted you last night.  I didn’t realize how great you are.”

“I’m not great really,” Kestrel protested.  “I’m lucky.  And I’m glad I’m able to help.  Just remember to keep putting a little of the water on the boys every day,” he urged her.

The nurses worked with the crowds until noon, when the clouds finally released a downpour.  Everything was hurriedly moved back into the tavern room of the inn, but there were few left to treat after all the nurses had already done, so the small group stayed inside until the rain passed over, then they departed from Little Wheel, a successful first visit under their belts.

“My lord,” Jacquie spoke up.  “We can find lots of the gray cap mushrooms.  They’re a common thing in our woods, and we use them all the time.”

“Well, then, you’re going to make the imps very happy,” Kestrel grinned.

“What shall we get from the imps in return for the mushrooms?” Parisse asked.

Kestrel paused.  “I don’t know.  We’ll just let people trade them to the imps.

“We can set up a marketplace where elves and imps can trade with each other.  Does that make sense?” he asked.

“You’re the lord of the manor.  Shouldn’t they have to pay you?” Jacquie asked.

“I can charge the vendors to set up at the market, I guess,” Kestrel said dubiously.  The topic of making revenue was something he hadn’t considered.  “I’ll ask my steward for advice,” he concluded.

They walked on through the damp forest, and reached the next village, Big Bend, two hours later.  It was a smaller village, a settlement along a small river, but the tavern and inn did have two rooms available for the visitors to use.

The arrival of the lord of Oaktown was received with the same looks of confusion as Little Wheel had shown, but the next morning the visitors happily treated the pleasantly surprised inhabitants, then walked through the light rain to the third village of Kestrel’s itinerary, and treated the people there that afternoon.

Two days later they all returned to Oaktown after visiting the five villages on the course of their journey.

“Thank you, ladies,” Kestrel told Parisse and Jacquie.  They had proven to not be as quarrelsome as he had feared, and they had been good nurses besides.  “Would you take me out and show me where I can pick a basket of mushrooms for the imps?  I’d like to offer them a gift,” he asked.

Remy and Pont were thanked and dismissed, then Kestrel carried bags for the nurses back to their home and left them there as the three of them went a short distance into a swampy area and selected a dozen large mushrooms that were easily visible among the decaying limbs and tree trunks  that were scattered across the forest floor.

“Whyte,” Kestrel called when he returned to the manor.

“Yes my lord?” his steward asked.

“How much are those worth?” Kestrel asked him, pointing to the basket of mushrooms.

“If they were growing in your gardens, you’d probably have to give your gardener an extra copper to get rid of them all.  They’re a dreadful nuisance every spring once they are established,” the steward said thoughtfully, his fingers absent-mindedly pulling at the tips of his ears as he talked.

“It turns out that my friends the imps really like these.  They think they’re a delicacy.  They’ll pay to buy them,” Kestrel told his companion.  He saw the man’s eyes widen, then immediately narrow.

“I thought we might set up a market, and let the imps come to buy them from our people,” Kestrel said.  “That would make the imps happy, and let our folks earn some money, or encourage them to trade with the imps.  At least they’d get to know the imps and I think we’d all be better off to be on friendly terms with our neighbors.”

“The manor could make a lot of money from this venture,” Whyte ventured after considering the issue.

“I don’t want to take more than a fair share,” Kestrel said.

“I’ll handle this, my lord, if you like,” Whyte told him.

“Can it be done quickly?  Will you have a market ready to set up soon?” Kestrel asked.  “Within a few days?”

“Give me three days and all will be ready,” the steward said.  “Do you remember the market at Center Trunk, where you were such an outstanding competitor in the archery competition?”

Kestrel was startled, and thought back, to the days when he hadn’t even really realized that he was embarking on such an extraordinary series of adventures, when he and Vinetia and Lucretia had met for the first time – when Dewberry had stolen an arrow to give to him as a way to offer her apologies.

“How did you know about that competition?” Kestrel asked in astonishment.

“I have my ways,” Whyte said smugly.  “Once I heard you were the lord of the manor I asked questions and learned information.”

Kestrel looked at his steward appraisingly.

“Well,” he decided he didn’t want to know any more, “shall I inform the king of the imps that the mushrooms shall be available in three days?”

“Certainly, my lord,” Whyte answered.

“Jonson, Dewberry, Jonson,” Kestrel called the royal couple, who appeared instantaneously, much faster than Kestrel had expected.

“Kestrel-sneak, wherever have you been?  You have been moving about for two days and I have not been able to find you until you called us just…,” Dewberry began scolding him, then stopped, as she saw the basket of mushrooms in his hands.

“Look, my king!  The elf who loves me has the mushrooms we crave!” her voice rose to a squeal of delight.

“I’ll trade you Dewberry for the gray plate mushrooms, Kestrel-friend-ally-friend,” Jonson said excitedly, his eyes momentarily rising from the mushrooms to offer a friendly glance and a grin to Kestrel, before he looked back down.

“You think I am worth that much in mushrooms?” Dewberry asked.

“I present this basket to you, friend Jonson, as a token of friendship between neighbors,” Kestrel spoke in a stately manner, and held the basket forward in a formal manner of exchange, “without requiring the sacrifice of your lovely and enchanting wife”.

Dewberry swooped and grabbed the basket, although it was nearly as large as her torso.  “I have it!  I have them!” she gleefully shouted.

“And I have an announcement to make,” Kestrel added, making the two small blue beings study him intently.

“In three days’ time, we will open a market here in the square of Oaktown, where all elves will be free to bring mushrooms to sell, and all imps will be free to come and shop and buy,” he told the royal couple.

“A market?” Jonson spoke in disbelief.  “You really claim there is enough of the food of the gods to occupy a market place?  Unbelievable!”

“In three days’ time we will find out,” Kestrel answered.

“What must we do?” Dewberry asked intently.

“You must bring my lord twenty virgins,” Whyte spoke up for the first time.