“Here are your two slaves,” the manager said, taking the end of the chain, and passing it to Kestrel. “And here,” he reached onto the table and pulled two golds, “are your two golds.
“Now please, I’d like for you to leave us,” he told Kestrel.
The two slaves were looking at Kestrel with just a flicker of curiosity in their otherwise downtrodden faces.
“Do they speak the human language?” he asked.
“A few words. They understand the whip very well,” the manager answered.
Kestrel felt his anger start to erupt, but then forced himself to stay calm. “Come with me,” he tugged on the chain, and walked away from the table, heading straight towards the doors, as conversations exploded among the witnesses to the extraordinary events he had created. He went straight out the door, stopped at the locker and retrieved his weapons, then turned to his left and started walking back towards the blacksmith shop.
The elves were behind him, alert now to something unusual, but unsure of what it was. They drew attention of passersby as they hobbled along on their severed feet — they were rarely seen, conquered examples of the distant, legendary elven race. Kestrel trudged on, and urged the elves on by gently tugging their chain from time- to-time, eager to get them out of the city and back to the blacksmith shop.
“Master,” one of them called, but Kestrel paid no attention, not realizing at first that the title was meant for him.
“Master, drink,” the other elf spoke, and Kestrel understood finally that he was being called master by the two elves, men who had been proud fighters in the elven guard until they were caught and broken by the humans.
They were past the busiest part of the city, and Kestrel stopped. He pulled the water skin off his hip, unstopped it, and handed it to the first elf, who looked at him in surprise that the new human master would share his own water supply. Kestrel stepped in close to the two, and spoke in a low voice, one that no one else would hear, as he spoke in the Elvish language.
“I am your friend and will take you to freedom. Remain calm, and do not act surprised until we are away from the city,” he said. “Stay silent until I tell you otherwise,” he added, then stepped back.
Both heads jerked up and both sets of eyes stared at him in astonishment and concern, a spark of alert awareness suddenly apparent. Kestrel placed his finger to his mouth, then started walking again, leading them on the way out of bondage.
The pace was slow, but by late afternoon the blacksmith shop was in sight, and Kestrel led his two slaves into the yard. The stable boy took one look at the two elves, then dropped his bucket of water and went dashing into the shop. Moments later the blacksmith came out of his shop with a grim look on his face.
“What’s this about?” he asked, as the two elves stood off to Kestrel’s side and watch the faces of the two humans.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t believe in slavery. I found these two were slaves at a gambling house, so I bought them, and now I’m going to take them to their own land and set them free,” Kestrel answered. “I need your help; I’d like for you to take the shackles off them.”
The blacksmith looked at the elves, then looked at Kestrel. “They’re elves, you know,” he finally said.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Kestrel said. “All I know is that they walk and breath and talk and think, and the gods didn’t intend for them to be slaves.”
“I’ll do it, but it will cost you,” the blacksmith agreed.
Kestrel pulled out the two golds the gambling hall manager had given him. “Here. I assume that’s enough?” he tossed them.
The blacksmith caught the coins, looked at them sitting in his palm, then looked up at Kestrel. “You’re different from folks around here, aren’t you?” he said.
“You have no idea,” Kestrel said with a smile. He turned to the elves and spoke to them in their own language. “This smith will break the chains and bonds. When that is done, we will leave this place and go to Firheng. Stay calm, and when we are away from all this, I will explain.”
The two elves gaped at him, then one replied. “We will do as you ask, Master.”
“You speak their language, do you?” the smith asked.
“Enough to be understood,” Kestrel agreed. “Set them free, and here’s your staff back, by the way,” he turned over the lent staff he had carried into the town.
“I’ll have them free in an hour. You’re overpaying five times the cost for this, you know,” the smith reached for and took the chain, so that he could lead the elves to his tools.
“Then feed them and give them decent clothes too, if you have any,” Kestrel said. “I’m going to run an errand. I’ll be back in an hour for my staff, my horse, and my elves.
“I’ll be back soon. Go with the smith,” he added in Elvish to the slaves, then walked towards the city and out of sight of the observers in the yard.
“Dewberry, Dewberry, Dewberry,” he called three time, reaching out with voice, heart and mind to summon his sprite friend, as he hid behind a small barn.
“Kestrel-elf, what place have you called me to in such chilly weather?” Dewberry appeared and asked.
“This is the land of the humans, a place called Green Water,” Kestrel answered. “I have a favor to ask.”
“You have two formal favors left to request; this shall be one of them,” Dewberry told him. “What would you have me do?”
“I have found two elves here, who have been held as slaves by humans, badly hurt and mistreated. I ask that this evening either you carry all three of us to the healing spring so that they may be made better, or that you bring some of the water of that spring back to me,” Kestrel answered.
“It would take many sprites to carry three elves, and that would take much effort. But you know I cannot touch the water myself to fill a bucket or skin to bring it back to you,” she said. “I’ll fall asleep. Is there something else we can do?”
Kestrel thought through the problems. “What if you just held the strap of a water skin and dipped it in the water, so that you never touched the water or the skin, but just the strap?” he suggested.
“That should work; you are such a bright boy! Do you have a water skin for me?” she asked, satisfied with Kestrel’s solution.
“I didn’t bring one with me, but come to me when the moon rises tonight, and I’ll have a skin or two ready,” he assured her.
“Where is Jonson?” he asked the small blue figure.
“Busy,” Dewberry said petulantly. “Ever since the honeymoon ended, he’s always busy. I get so bored sometimes.”
“Where is your human lover, or your elf lover?” she asked in return.
“I have no lover that I can call my own,” Kestrel replied, “not yet.
“Or wait!” he exclaimed. “Do you remember the elf woman we took to the spring with us? Alicia?”
“The one you undressed and laid with in the pool? I don’t know what the two of you did while we slept the wonderful sleep in the water,” she added.
“We didn’t do anything improper,” Kestrel insisted. “But that’s not the point,” he tried to redirect the conversation. “And besides, she’s married to an officer, and she betrayed me,” he re-interrupted himself.
“Do you love her?” Dewberry asked, reclining in the air and resting her head on her fists in a pose that Kestrel found fetching.
“How could Jonson stay away from anyone who looks as endearing as you do right now?” he asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said emphatically. “I wish you would ask him that!
“But you haven’t answered my question,” she said.
“We are on friendly terms, but I do not love her,” Kestrel said.
“But the point is, she has several skins of water from the healing spring. If you can go to her right now and tell her that I have two injured elves who need the water, she could give you a skin, nice and dried and sealed, that you could bring to me right now,” he directed. “Her name is Alicia,” he reminded her.
“You want me to expose myself to this elf woman for you?” Dewberry asked.
“She’s already seen you,” Kestrel pointed out. “She’s seen you without clothes; you’ve seen her without
