Dewberry came over to join the two. “So you will take me back to my room now, and then continue your honeymoon?” Kestrel asked.
“Unless you have a better plan,” Jonson jested He and Dewberry wrapped their arms around Kestrel and initiated their magical travel back to the room at the inn. “Thank you for your gift, my friend,” Jonson said as Dewberry kissed his cheek in the darkness, and then the two of them were gone.
“Is everything okay?” Merilla asked sleepily from the bed. “Are you alright?”
Kestrel sat and removed his boots once again.
“Everything is fine, my friend,” Kestrel told her. He gently lowered the water skins to the floor, then shed his shirt and lay back on the mattress.
“Kestrel, are there others like you? Are you something special?” Merilla asked quietly.
“I thought I was pretty ordinary,” he replied after a long silent pause as he thought. “Then something happened, that led to something else that led to something else that led to me looking like a human and fighting a yeti to save someone else’s life.
“And then I found out how good you are, and that seems pretty special to me,” he rolled toward her as he said the last phrase.
“You are an elf, and yet a part of the human nobility. You kill yeti and you travel with sprites. You speak both human and elven tongues, and you know what is right and wrong, and try so hard to stick to the right. These are special things, Kestrel,” she spoke firmly. She rolled against him and draped her arm over him. “Hold me and let me sleep in your arms tonight, and then tomorrow we can go see my house and you can meet my mother, and then you can go off to do whatever it is you must do.” And so that night they peacefully slept in each other’s arms, knowing that they could expect no more.
Chapter 21 — Merilla’s Home
The next morning Kestrel was back in his ordinary clothes, freed of the bright display he had worn at the palace, and he drew fewer stares as he followed Merilla through crowded city streets towards the neighborhood that was to become her home. He still wore the bandages around his head to cover his ears, and that caused some eyes to track him, but there was nothing out of the ordinary otherwise on their trip.
Their first stop was at the shop that Merilla’s father kept, a tidy store that sold cloth, thread, needles, buttons, and everything else that might possibly be of use for clothing. Merilla’s mother sat in a rocking chair in the corner, sewing a smock when they entered the store.
“Good morning dear,” her mother called cheerily. She placed her sewing on a table and lifted her bulk from her chair, a warm smile on her face. She bent and kissed each of the boys, then stood and faced Kestrel. “So this is you hero, protector, and friend?” she asked, studying him closely, examining him with an attention to detail that Kestrel thought was unnerving.
“This is Kestrel,” she affirmed. “Kestrel, this is my mother, Durille.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of our Merilla and her boys. You must have taken quite a wound to still be bandaged,” she said, looking at his head.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Kestrel answered nervously. “Merilla says she has a home in mind, and I thought I might look at it with her this morning,” he added, nervously hoping to change the topic.
“It’s a nice home, and there’s a wonderful young man who works in the leather goods shop that takes up the street level. He’s a good friend of the family, and has a good, steady income with his shop,” the mother immediately answered. “Perhaps you can meet him when we go over.”
And with that the whole entourage was out of the shop and on its way around the corner. They entered a darker store front, where the sunlight did not penetrate directly, and most of the outside illumination was quickly absorbed by the dark wood paneling and the dark leather goods that hung and were heaped all about the store.
A heavyset young man, one with a chubby baby face, sat at the back of the store working on some intricate piece of leather. He looked up and squinted at the people who entered his store. As they came closer he recognized Merilla, and a genuine smile lit up his face. He put down his tools and wares, rose awkwardly from his stool, and came forward to greet them.
“Hammon, please meet Kestrel,” Merilla introduced. “Kestrel is the man who killed the yeti that attacked Youkal, and then he brought us back here through the wilderness,” she rested her hand on Kestrel’s shoulder as she spoke.
Hammon seemed to deflate at the heroic introduction. “It’s nice to meet you,” Kestrel said, feeling a combination of sympathy for the poor man and jealousy over Durille’s evident intention to force the two together. “You have some nice work in here. Do you do all this yourself?”
“I do, thank you,” Hammon replied, grateful for the kind words. “So you want to go upstairs and see the rooms?”
He provided the keys to them, and they left him in his shop as they went upstairs to tour the rooms. “Wouldn’t this make a great room for Merilla and her husband someday?” her mother asked Kestrel. “The connecting room would make a nursery for their babies, and there is space for Jacob and Marco in the rooms upstairs. And of course, we’re just right around the corner.
“I can’t believe she has so much money, that she can afford to buy a house. She said that selling things from the yeti made all this money,” the mother chatted on as they wandered from room to room. “What will you do with your share?”
Kestrel looked at Merilla momentarily, not sure what her mother knew, or what Merilla had chosen to reveal and to refrain from telling.
“What time do you need to leave?” Merilla suddenly asked, saving Kestrel from making any statement.
“I probably do need to go,” Kestrel agreed. “I wouldn’t want to be late.”
“But you were supposed to tell me all about the palace!” Durille protested.
“I know mother,” Merilla answered for him again, starting to usher the party back down the stairs and towards the door without looking at the rest of the rooms in her haste to prevent further questioning. “Maybe the next time you see him he can talk to you,” she said.
“Do you think I’ll see him again? I imagine you’ll be leaving the city soon, won’t you, to go back out to the wilderness?” Durille queried.
“I suspect I’ll leave someday soon,” Kestrel agreed as they headed downstairs. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” Kestrel said. “Please tell your friend I enjoyed meeting him. I wish we would have saved some yeti hide for him to tan! That would have made quite a vest!” he added, waiting to see Durille’s response, but also thinking that such a vest would be a tremendous protective garment to wear, though he never expected to see or fight another yeti again.
Durille’s face grew grim in response to his comment, but she said nothing, and he walked down the street, wondering how he was going to enjoy his next appointment.
As part of being named a Captain of the Fleet and the People’s Champion, Estonian custom called for Kestrel to receive large colorful tattoos, one for each of his honors. He was on his way to Castona’s shop, and from there he was going to be led to the tattoo shop where his colors would be inscribed upon his chest. In the midst of all the bustle and confusion of the previous night’s activity, not to mention the surprise visit from Dewberry, Kestrel had not told Merilla about the tattoos, or even about the room at the palace he was entitled to, and he smiled as he walked along the street and thought about the surprise she would receive when he revealed his new marks.
As it turned out, he was the one surprised when he reached Castona’s shop. “I will personally lead you to the palace and then the tattoo shop,” the merchant had greeted him. “And we need to go immediately. I want to stop at the auction on the way and introduce you! It will rouse up the bidders!”
“I thought the auction was going to be two days from now!” Kestrel protested.
“We’ve got to strike while the iron’s hot,” Castona answered. “There are a couple of Lakeview traders in port today, and the local folks are all stoked up by your ceremony yesterday. We’ve got things set to begin in about an hour.”
