agent of chaos by bringing two suitors together to visit with her sister at the same time.
Malsten scowled deeply as Cheryl popped up from her chair, a look of concern and pleasure on her face. “Oh Kestrel, it’s so good to see you,” she spoke warmly. “Are you going to be okay? What did the doctor say? How were you injured?”
“He fell in the mud,” Crozanna volunteered brightly.
Malsten let out a muffled laugh. “You can go now Crozanna,” Cheryl directed, with a hint of steel in her meaningful glance.
“Please come in and sit down,” Cheryl told Kestrel, who remained standing in the doorway, wishing there was a way to escape from the uncomfortable scene. “Tell us what happened,” she added, as her fingers gently brushed his hand when he passed her to take the proffered seat.
He smiled a warm smile to her, touched by the kind gesture
“What happened yesterday Kestrel?” Cheryl asked again.
“There was a big fire in the forest, but the rains came along and put it out,” the elf guard replied. He was not going to make any mention of the human deities involved, not in front of Malsten.
“Those rains must have been something; we had flooding so bad the water got up into a couple of dozen homes. My dad was selling every mop and bucket he had, plus a whole bunch of other stuff to folks who have to clean up their homes,” Malsten announced, proud of the business success his family had enjoyed as a result of the misfortune of others.
“How is your arm? What did the doctor say?” Cheryl pretended not to hear Malsten.
“It’s broken. He reset the bones last night. Everything should be fine in just a few days,” Kestrel answered. “I reported the fire to your father this morning. He said there’s a patrol looking at the fire location this morning, so there may be more news about it this afternoon,” he told the girl, even though he knew the topic would be of little interest to her. He wanted to talk to her about the human goddess, about Kai, and the direct communication he had with the omnipotent being; he wanted to hear her thoughts, but Malsten’s presence stifled any such conversation.
Just then Cheryl’s mother appeared in the doorway. “Well, hello Kestrel,” she said in a kindly voice. “We’re just about to have lunch. Let me add a plate for you,” she told him.
“No, I can’t stay. I just wanted to stop by to let Cheryl know my arm will be fine. I need to go,” he said as he stood, unwilling to spend time sharing Cheryl’s company with another suitor. “I thought I’d go see if I could help any of the flood victims clean up their homes,” he shot a deadly glance at Malsten as he spoke, but the merchant seemed oblivious to any sense of shame.
“Well, that’s a very nice idea! Don’t strain your arm now. You need to heal,” Cheryl’s mom sounded just like a mom as she counseled him. “Malsten, let me walk you to the meal table, and Cheryl you can see Kestrel to the door,” she directed, giving Kestrel the satisfaction of seeing Malsten shoot a deadly glance back at him.
Cheryl and he walked silently to the door, and stepped out onto the porch. “Mother’s right, you need to be careful with that arm,” Cheryl instructed him as she shut the door behind him. She stood very close, and her hand reached out shyly to hold his. “Malsten just arrived a few minutes before you did,” she apologized. “I didn’t know you were going to come over this morning.”
“It’s not a problem. I just wanted to see you,” he fibbed, “so I got what I wanted. I’ll be around town for a few days while I heal, so I’ll see you soon. I want to talk,” he told her earnestly, squeezing her hand, then releasing it. “Go enjoy your lunch, and maybe Malsten will sell you something for a discount,” he kidded.
“Be nice,” Cheryl chided him, but the sparkle in her eyes was one of laughter, and Kestrel remembered her smile as he turned and walked down the steps to return to the street.
Chapter 6 — Confirmation
Kestrel did go to try to help a family that had been flooded out by his rainstorms, but everyone soon agreed that his one-armed status limited his utility. After a couple of hours carrying small items around as needed, Kestrel left the flood victims, and went back into town to the military base, where he waited for the return of the patrol from the red stag woods sector.
During the mid-afternoon the two elf patrol entered the gates of the base, and Kestrel followed them into the commander’s building and office without interference.
Mastrin had a different aide accompanying him, Kestrel noticed as he entered a small conference room, one that was adjacent to the office he had spoken in earlier in the day. “Welcome back, guardsman,” Mastrin acknowledged him, then turned to the patrol members, two senior and reliable members of the guard based in Elmheng. “Tell us what you found, if anything,” the commander ordered.
“Well, we found quite a mess,” one of the two elves offered. “The rain up there must have been extraordinary, as if we didn’t know that from the way the streams ran. The mud was something to trek through. There was a fire, and it burnt a good size opening in the forest. It must have been pretty hot; even the biggest trees don’t have any standing trunks left except around the edges of the fire. Things must have been burning along pretty dangerously until those rains put the fire out, thanks be to the spirits.”
Mastrin looked at Kestrel, but said nothing.
“Was there any clue as to how it started?” he asked.
The second guard spoke up. “Not direct evidence, maybe, but we found three metal rods, and a large metal kettle, all made from the blood metal, iron. They’d gotten so hot in the fire they were all deformed — bent and curled. That had to be man work,” he asserted.
Mastrin nodded his head. “That seems right.”
“And we saw some movements in the fringe of the woods on the far side when we first stepped into the opening,” the guard added. “It may have been men. We shouldn’t have shown ourselves so openly, I realize, but we just weren’t expecting men to be inside the forest that far.”
Mastrin nodded again, thoughtfully.
Kestrel,” he looked at the young guard, “I’d say your suspicion was right. The battle down south was just a diversion, designed to empty all of our forces out of the northern border so that the humans could sneak in and start the fire. If it hadn’t been for those rains, we might have lost a fairly big chunk of woodlands.
“Alright men, thank you for the report. You’re dismissed. Kestrel, stay for a moment,” the commander set folks in motion, and waited until the door was closed before he spoke again.
“So you called the human goddess to help you foil a plan of the humans; is that how it seems to you?” he asked quizzically, studying Kestrel closely.
The young elf sat silently for several seconds, trying to find some alternative, some explanation that didn’t sound so preposterous. Nothing came to mind.
“Yes sir,” he said reluctantly.
“Whatever that goddess intends to get from you is going to be a memorable repayment for a favor like that. I hope you’re ready when the bill comes,” the commander said softly. “You’re dismissed. Come back and report to me tomorrow after lunch.” He set Kestrel free, and left the room himself, his aide trailing behind him, leaving the small conference room empty in the afternoon sunlight that filtered into the room through the tree leaves outside the window.
Chapter 7 — Ferris’s Report
Ferris was rehearsing the report he was going to deliver to his commander, and focused on steeling himself for the abusive response he was sure to suffer. His squad had done everything perfectly to set fire in the forest; they’d known their assignments, and had carried them out flawlessly, without the loss of or injury to a single man — something he was especially proud of.
They’d exited the forest safely, and marched rapidly away from the woodlands for over an hour; Ferris didn’t feel easy being near the forest, and the presence of the fire only heightened his nagging sense of
