With the staff securely held in both hands, Kestrel went on the attack, using both ends to land blows on the big man, while blocking every swing of the sword with ease, his staff becoming nicked and hacked but remaining sturdy. Kestrel whacked the wooden staff hard on the other man’s knee, striking a nerve that made him involuntarily bow, and bringing his temple into range of a telling blow that knocked the man dizzy. Kestrel followed with a blow to the top of the head, a stiff prod to the midsection, and then a strike to the throat that left the man on the ground.
Kestrel stood wearily, looking about. The woman was the only one standing, watching him warily from behind a tree. “Are we done here?” Kestrel shouted at her.
She ducked behind the tree. “Go on,” she shouted. “Go on and leave us be.”
Kestrel sheathed his sword, then strapped his staff to his pack again, and swung the pack over his shoulder. He picked up his bow, and placed it over his left shoulder, where the goddess’s hand print had healed after days of treatment with the water from the healing spring. Satisfied that he had all his belongings, but shaken by the suddenness and pointlessness of the fruitless violence, he returned to the road and began raising a dusty cloud as he hurried south, seeking to put space between himself and the scene of the deadly encounter.
It was probably the next day that he crossed the unmarked border between the humans of Estone and the elves of the Eastern Forest. He slept in trees in the elven manner for the next two nights, and around noon, on the fifth day of his journey from Estone, he re-entered the gates of Firheng.
Chapter 24 — Return to Firheng
Belinda was not behind her desk when Kestrel walked into her office. “Gion, is the commander in?” Kestrel stuck his head out into the hall to ask the guard on duty.
“He’s down at the armory,” Gion answered. “Go on down and give him a challenge, why don’t you?” the guard grinned. “Welcome back, yeti-killer.”
“I’m going to leave my things here,” Kestrel replied, piling his goods in a corner.
“What, don’t you think you want to stay with us a while? Go ahead up to your room and put your things away,” Gion replied.
“I’m pretty sure they’re going to send me back to Center Trunk. I just don’t know if it will be immediately or delayed,” Kestrel protested. “If I get to stay here, I’ll go to my room.”
With that he wandered back to the armory where Arlen and Casimo were both engaged in matches, along with a half dozen others. Kestrel stood in the doorway and watched the activity as guards practiced swords along with as staffs and hand-to-hand techniques as well. He hoped he’d have a chance to stay at Firheng for a few days and practice his skills, living simply for the engagements without worries about surgeries or assignments or loyalties or deities.
“All welcome the great combatant!” Arlen shouted, and heads turned to look at Kestrel. Both Arlen and Casimo dismissed their opponents, and walked over to shake his hand and heartily welcome him back to Firheng.
“You took your time returning, it seems,” Casimo commented. “Did anything interesting happen?”
“He had a long journey from where we were all the way to Estone city, especially considering he had to play papa to a widow and at least a couple of babies,” Arlen spoke up defensively. “Did everything go well? Did you find Castona? Was he a help?”
“I did find Castona, and he was a big help. There were complications at times, but Castona knew how to deal with everything,” Kestrel answered. “I owe him thanks for his help.”
“And did you get the widow settled in? Were the kids a handful?” Arlen asked.
“They’re great kids. They handled the journey well; they handled the city pretty well. Merilla’s from Estone, she has returned to her parents, and with the money Castona got for the yeti items, I think she’ll be set,” Kestrel sighed.
“How did you feel in the city, around all those humans? How was your accent?” Casimo jumped in. “Your ears look like they never were treated? What did you do to them?”
“I think my accent is fine; Castona said I sounded like I came from some of the southern cities. He said I wouldn’t have any problems, and no one else said anything at all,” Kestrel answered. He paused, as he wondered how much more to say about all that had taken place, the things that were unbelievable and the things that were intensely personal.
“On the way back to Firheng I was ambushed by thieves; at least I assume they meant to be thieves. I used my bow, my sword, and my staff to escape,” he began with the easiest matter.
“Good for you! How many were there?” Arlen asked.
“I hit two with arrows, beat three with the sword, and one with the staff. He was the biggest one,” Kestrel answered. Arlen and Casimo exchanged a look.
“You beat six thieves?” Arlen asked.
“They tried to ambush me, and they were split up, so I never fought more than three at a time,” Kestrel explained.
“They probably saw a solitary elf on the road and assumed you were just a merchant who couldn’t fight, who was returned from trading goods in Estone and would have money they could steal,” Casimo hypothesized.
“They didn’t know or care if I could fight,” Kestrel blurted out. “Their first shot was meant to kill me.” He thought of the arrow that had bounced off his chest.
“Sure,” Arlen agreed casually. “They’re not known as kind and gentle people.”
“I was lauded as a yeti-killer,” Kestrel began to approach his story. “When I took the goods to Castona to sell, he thought he could make the most money through an auction, so he spread the story about fighting the yeti to give the auction more publicity. So I got some recognition.” He wasn’t sure what else to say that wouldn’t sound completely unbelievable, although he knew he had the proof he needed for his story.
“Did the sale go well?” Arlen asked.
“Castona raised,” Kestrel added the amounts together, “one hundred and twenty golds. He kept fifty for himself, and Merilla got the rest.”
“She got seventy golds! How much did you get?” Casimo exclaimed, his voice rising.
“I didn’t get anything from the yeti sales,” Kestrel answered. “I told Merilla she could have everything. She has the boys after all.”
“So why are your ears back to normal?” Casimo repeated his earlier question.
“When we fought the yeti, we were all injured, so I used some of the healing water. I didn’t think about it healing my ears so completely back to their usual shape. And then on the trip to the city, one of the boys got hurt, and I rubbed more of the water into his scalp wound a couple of times,” Kestrel explained. “By the time we went to the palace to meet the Doge my ears already grew out enough that Castona had my head wrapped to hide them.”
“You met the Doge at the palace?” Arlen asked in surprise.
He had said a little too much, Kestrel realized, and he had taken a step closer to revealing the frightening part of what he had experienced.
“That was part of the plan for promoting the auction,” he replied.
“What’s the rest of this story?” the commander asked. “I sense you’re not telling us everything.”
Kestrel took another deep breath, then sighed. He wasn’t good at lying, and he was speaking to a commanding officer to boot.
“The Doge gave me titles; he named me as a Captain of the Fleet, and he named me as Champion of the People. Then the goddess Kai came to earth and named me her champion of the people too,” he spoke hurriedly, his words running together.
Casimo sat back. “Okay, now tell me what really happened.”
In response, Kestrel stood up. He untucked his shirt, then pulled it up over his head, revealing the new marks that had been added to his torso. “This is the one the Doge ordered for me,” he pointed, “and this is the one the goddess created,” his finger crossed his chest, then he twisted his back into their view and pointed over his shoulder. “This is the mark she left behind.”