in the kingdom!” Arlen had said as he greeted Kestrel with a warm hug, and then immediate resumption of training.
“So, did you use any of your training on your little pleasure trip” Arlen asked him as they fenced with one another.
“A time or two,” Kestrel said, then briefly explained using a broom stick as a fighting staff to save a woman under attack.
“A pretty woman?” Arlen asked with gleaming eyes.
“Yes, she is,” Kestrel immediately answered.
“Was she thankful for your great service? Did she succumb to your charms and reward you with her virtue?” Arlen pressed him.
“No. She was married,” Kestrel replied.
“And she didn’t even have a sister to introduce you to? What a tragic waste of valor! You’ll have to achieve better results next time!” Arlen told him, and asked no more questions, as their sparring activity increased in intensity.
His weaponry skills improved to the point of drawing praise from Arlen, and they moved on to more difficult tasks, such as the use of weapons from atop the back of a horse. In the meantime, Kestrel’s language skills continued to improve, but not to the degree that his physical abilities did. His instructor even began to sleep in Kestrel’s quarters with him as the intensity of his training mounted, and Kestrel found that the expectations for him were highly discussed among the staff of the training facility.
“You’ll be going out on an assignment, a test run, next week,” Casimo announced a month after his return. “We’ll see how you put everything together.”
“Where will I go? How long? Will anyone else go with me?” he bombarded the commander with questions.
“All in good time, Kestrel. Just keep practicing,” Casimo replied.
The next night his language instructor was ill, and didn’t come to Kestrel’s quarters after dinner. Kestrel sat on his small porch, resting, relieved to have the unexpected window of a few hours of relief from the constant training, when he heard a noise within his room. He stepped inside to investigate.
Inside his room, sitting on his bed, were Dewberry and Jonson. “You are never alone!” Dewberry scolded him, as Jonson inspected him closely.
“You look just like a human!” Jonson pronounced.
“I’m supposed to look like a human. And they never leave me alone because they’re trying to train me to be able to go spy on the humans,” Kestrel explained. He sat down on the thin mattress with his two blue guests.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”
“We will be getting married the day after tomorrow,” Dewberry announced.
“Congratulations!” Kestrel spoke sincerely, while wondering what relevance that could have to him.
“And we want to go back to the healing spring and soak in the water again one more time before our wedding. Would you come be our assistant and protector?” Dewberry asked with such a pleading tone and posture that Kestrel knew she was hamming it up.
“I will,” Kestrel immediately agreed. “On one condition.”
“A condition? How preposterous! Don’t you know that it’s the female’s duty to set conditions!” Dewberry grew suddenly mock combative, striking a fighting pose and beginning to swing punches at Kestrel, causing both he and Jonson to laugh.
“What condition did you have in mind?” Jonson asked, as he rose and grabbed his betrothed around the waist.
“I want to take a couple of skins with me so that I can fill them with the water from the spring and bring it back here,” Kestrel replied.
“See! I told you women set better conditions! That’s no challenge at all!” Dewberry answered. “Go get your skins and let’s get going!”
Kestrel rose and searched in his closet until he found three empty skins, whose straps he draped over his shoulder, then stood and waited as Dewberry and Jonson hugged him tightly.
“I am pretty sure that just two of us can move you,” Jonson said, giving Kestrel a moment of doubt just as he felt the same sensations he had experienced before, the blackness and the queasiness, and then everything was alright as they stood on the bank of the spring waters. Kestrel undressed and got in the water, then received each of the sprites as they too entered the water, and he laid them down on the sandy shelf, where they quietly lay in their state of refreshing repose, while Kestrel carefully filled each of his water skins. He laid the stoppered skins down on his pile of clothes, then lay down in the water next to the sprites, and watched the sunset create a changing tableau of colors in the sky.
He thought about his month of looking like a human. He had grown to accept it, but still regret it. The emphasis at his training base was all directed towards the value he would give to the elven leaders, and the ability he would have to learn about the human plans to attack the elves; through the constant reinforcement of the message that he could singularly aid his people, he now accepted the duty he needed to fulfill. But he still mourned the loss of his elven appearance, and the deception Alicia had used to trick him into the operation still rankled. He had enjoyed her company for those few hours together, and the betrayal that he felt from learning her truth was still a cold ember in his heart.
When the last of the colors were gone and stars twinkled brightly overhead, Kestrel lifted the sprite and the imp from the water, and laid them on the ground, then gave their bodies a few minutes to adjust before he shook them awake.
“Gads! How long did we soak?” Dewberry asked, sitting up.
Minutes later they all were dressed, and the two blue beings took Kestrel back to his dark room.
“Good night friend Kestrel,” Jonson told him.
“Kestrel, after our wedding we’ll be on our honeymoon for two weeks,” Dewberry explained.
“Don’t think she’s going to come see you then!” Jonson laughed raucously.
“Best wishes, Dewberry. I know you two will make each other happy,” Kestrel told the small blue body, giving her a gentle hug and a delicate kiss.
And then the two were gone, and Kestrel thought he was alone.
“Kestrel? How did you get in there?” he heard Belinda’s voice call from his porch.
“Belinda? What are you doing here?” Kestrel asked.
“I’m going to be your language tutor tonight,” she spoke in the human language as she stepped into the room. “I’ve been waiting here for hours, and I just gave up. I was starting to go down the steps when there were suddenly voices in your empty room.” She looked around in the darkness.
Kestrel put his water bags down, then fumbled at his bedside table to strike a spark and light a candle. He quickly got the wick glowing, then placed the glass cylinder around the flame and looked at Belinda.
She was sitting in a chair in the corner, near where the instructor’s cot was set up, and she was staring at him intently.
“Well? How did you do it? How did you suddenly appear in your room?” she continued to ask in human. She placed a large bag on the table beside her.
“I would rather not say,” Kestrel replied, after several seconds in which he failed to come up with any better answer.
“In the human tongue, please,” Belinda corrected him.
“Why won’t you tell me?” she asked.
“Please, Belinda, ask me no more questions about this. I cannot answer,” Kestrel responded in the human tongue. He looked at her in the candlelight; she had removed her light overcoat, and beneath it wore a revealing nightgown.
“You can put the light out if you don’t need it,” she told him, realizing that she was the subject of his intense gaze. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have worn this.”
“How do you speak human?” Kestrel asked as he blew out the candle, but continued to sit on the bed, befuddled by the unexpected circumstances.
“I’m one of the best human speakers in Firheng,” she answered. “My husband was a human. Is a human,” she corrected herself. “You didn’t know that?” she asked.
