The Guided Journey (Book 6) (18 page)

Chapter
17 – In the Mountains

The first five days of the trip out of Firheng was a simple matter of jogging over the gently rolling terrain that led southwest from the city, to the frontier of the Eastern Forest, and then into the foothills of the Water Mountains south of Greenwater.  Kestrel had idly considered a side trip to the city to overwhelm Hampus with exposure to the vile, corrupt culture of the loosely governed city, but he took pity on Hampus, sure that the elf would have fallen victim to shock and despair, if not outright physical attack.

They began to climb mountains, and Hampus began to complain.  Every new ridge the
y crested was higher than the one they had climbed before, and Hampus’s litany of injuries, aches, wounds, and malaise grew more vociferous.

They were in a vast stretch of wilderness that was claimed by no nation.  The mountains grew increasingly treacherous, and Kestrel found Hampus’s growing
list of complaints to be more and more annoying.

“We are not going to go back to Firheng and run to Estone,” Kestrel said forcefully after they crested a stony crest and faced the prospect of crossing the series of ridges that were visible in the direction they intended to travel.

“You’re a heroic mountain-climber, I’m told, so you’re going to go climb some mountains on the way to Kirevee and your triumphant diplomatic duties,” he said forcefully.

“But once I’m a hero already, and betrothed to the princess, I should be able to rest on my laurels,” Hampus protested.

“If we were allowed to rest on our laurels, I wouldn’t be out here with you,” Kestrel answered snidely.

Hampus looked at him in surprise.  “But won’t you get honor and glory in the court for being my guide?  I’m sure the courtiers will be jealous of your time with me.”

“Not if they know you,” Kestrel muttered under his breath.

“Hmm?” Hampus asked.

“Have you been at court for very long?” Kestrel asked.

“Several weeks,” Hampus answered.

“And you’ve never seen me at court, and you probably haven’t heard a single courtier mention me, have you?” Kestrel asked.

“Well, no,” Hampus considered.  “All the more reason to gain some prestige at court.  The only ones who do ever mention you are the guard officers, and they aren’t very popular.  They never go to the balls.”

“The point is that I don’t want to be popular at court,” Kestrel said, silencing Hampus into astonishment.

They started weaving down the western slope of the ridge.

“And you shouldn’t care either,” Kestrel found himself adding.  “Popularity at court isn’t important.  Serving the forest and the people is important,” he said.

“And pleasing the princess,” Hampus added.

Kestrel sighed and gave up.

That night they were both tired from the day’s rigorous journey.  They climbed into adjoining trees and fell quickly asleep in their perches among the high branches.

As soon as Kestrel fell asleep, he seemed to begin to dream.

Kai came to him.  “Kestrel, you are my most fervent worshipper, and I think your statue in Hydrotaz is a lovely work,” the goddess told Kestrel, speaking in a tone that seemed less warm than her usual voice; Kestrel had always felt her love expressed in her words, but now she seemed distant, he thought.

“There are the other gods as well, though,” she mentioned.  “It seems to me that you should turn your talents to creating suitable works for them as well, so that their worshippers will have the opportunity to give them the love that they deserve as well.”

“You want me to make
statues for the temples of the other gods?” Kestrel asked in confusion.  Growelf had been helpful, but in a gruff manner; Kestrel could hardly draw any inspiration for a great creation in a temple.

“Yes, Krusima, god of earth deserves a great temple, one even more beautiful than mine,” the goddess said intently.

“I don’t know Krusima,” Kestrel replied.  “He has not saved my life, or been my protector, or given me his trust, my goddess.  I do not love him like I love you.”

“You do not love Krusima, you fear him!” the goddess erupted with unexpected anger.  “His power is beyond your ability to comprehend or judge!”

And that was when Kestrel awoke, as the tree rattled vigorously.  He grabbed hold of the branches before he fell, and he heard Hampus give a shout of wild surprise as he awoke as well.

“Was that an earthquake?” Hampus asked in astonishment.  “Are the mountains collapsing?”

Kestrel looked around wildly, searching for a sign of some attack or wind storm or any explanation.  There was nothing to see.

“I think it was an earthquake,” he agreed.  They sat in their trees for minutes, waiting for aftershocks, then slowly drifted into uneasy sleep once again, through the short hours before the sun rose.

The next day they continued to struggle over the difficult terrain.  Their best progress was in the late afternoon, when they found a relatively smooth stretch of a small mountain stream and were able to run atop the water and the rocks for a fair distance in a westerly course.  But then the stream bent north, and they had to leave it to resume climbing to the west.

They spent the night in mountain trees again, and again Kestrel was engaged in a dream conversation with Kai.  He felt his sleep interrupted by the dream, which seemed to thrust itself into his consciousness.

The landscape was a vague re-creation of the interior of Kai’s Hydrotaz temple.  There were perhaps worshipers present near the statue that Kestrel sensed was nearby, though it was surprisingly not featured.

“My son, my favorite son,” Kai’s voice spoke.  “This is the place you have made for me.  You have shown my worshippers my beauty, and you’ve made them love me.

“I thank you greatly, but I urge you to let Krusima’s followers also have a wonderful place to worship him.  He does not need it of course, for he is already worthy of all the fear and love his followers can muster.  But it is fitting,” Kai said, and she appeared for the first time in his dream, “that they have something as great as their love should be.”

“What are his strengths?  Why do people love him?” Kestrel asked.  “I just don’t know him like I know you.  Tell me what is best about him, what is loveable, and I’ll try to find the inspiration,” he said doubtfully.

“Don’t you know?  Isn’t it obvious?  He provides the jewels and the metals of the earth; he is strong; he’s a god!  What more is there?” Kai’s voice was both puzzled and annoyed.  “We don’t need to talk about this any longer; simply tell me that you will do this job.”

Her insistence was unlike any attitude that Kestrel had ever experienced, and then he felt pressure growing, an all-encompassing blanket of strength that compressed upon him from every angle.

“My lady?  My goddess?” Kestrel called in his dream.  He felt discomfort, growing into pain, and he could not take a breath, as his chest felt a heavy weight pressing inward.

Not knowing how or why, but feeling panic starting to rise, Kestrel initiated his own powers, puny as they had to be comparatively, and he pressed outward. Kestrel’s energy took the goddess by surprise, and he felt a small, open envelope develop around himself, allowing his chest to expand and contract.

“What is this?” the goddess roared.  “Where does this come from?  What abominable creature are you?”

Kestrel sensed that he was about to be punished for his act of self-protection, and he steeled his will, trying to strengthen the narrow shell that kept Kai’s energy from crushing against him.  He was confused and fearful at the overbearing attitude the goddess was directing towards him.

He could see her clearly suddenly, standing in front of him with an angry scowl on her face.  “Your blasphemy must be punished!” she spoke in a low growl, then pointed her finger at the ground beneath his feet.

The earth began to buck and tremble, and stones and dirt came flying in upon him from all angles.  The shell of energy he had built around himself collapsed under the pressure of the all the debris and force that was pelting against it.

Instinct alone made his dream hand go to his hip and grab the hilt of Lucretia, which he weakly flipped forward as the first rock crashed through his dream shield and struck him in the thigh.  He couldn’t believe that he was actually fighting to protect his life from an assault by the powerful goddess who he prayed to and worshipped.

Actions seemed to happen in slow motion, as though it were a dream – which it was, some part of him seemed to know.  He watched the knife flip over and over in a forward roll as it tumbled in the air in a useless gesture against a goddess.  Kestrel tried to will it forward, tried to imagine it striking the goddess – even though she was the goddess he had loved and trusted so much.

The hilt of the knife struck Kai in the middle of her chest, between her breasts, and an enormous flare of light expanded outward.  The goddess screamed, and her face contorted and withered in a horrific manner, as blood spurted outward from the wound.  In just a split second’s time, before the bright light blinded him, he saw that Kai was evolving into a male figure, one that clutched at the knife in its chest, as the amount of dirt and stone that flew at him became a cascade that started to bury him and pile up around him, before he passed out in pain.

Chapter
18 – Nightmares from Gods

“Wake up, dear,” a voice spoke melodically to him, soothing and low in its tone.

“Kestrel dear, can you awaken?” the voice repeated moments later, a note of anxiousness almost evident below the surface.

Kestrel inhaled deeply.  He was lying on his back on a soft surface.  His muscles felt stiff.

“That’s it Kestrel, dear.  Come gently,” the voice suggested.

Kestrel was listening to Kai’s voice, he realized.

He opened his eyes, and saw that they were in a place of total darkness, except for the light that seemed to shine from Kai herself.  He took in a deep breath, then spoke.  “My goddess, what have I done?  Where are we?”

“We’re in the world of sleep, Kestrel, where I need to keep you for a little while so that you can recover,” the goddess told him.

“What did I do?  Why did you attack me?  Was that you?” he asked, suddenly remembering portions of the last moments of his dream.

“No, poor elven demi-god, it wasn’t me who attacked you in your dream, as you suspected.  It was Krusima, who has become insanely jealous of the pilgrims who are flocking to Hydrotaz to see the statue in the temple there,” Kai told him.  Her fingers gently massaged his temples and stroked his scalp in a relaxing fashion.

“From what I gathered and from the things you’ve mumbled, he apparently disguised himself as me, and tried to trick you into wanting to make a temple adornment for him that would be as extraordinary as the
statue you made in Hydrotaz for me,” the goddess answered.

“When his foolish trickery didn’t work, he grew frustrated and you suffered the results, until you shocked him by fighting back,” she continued.  “He certainly didn’t know that you are a demi-god, and he didn’t know that you had created your own artifact of energy.”

“I just felt like I was fighting for my life,” Kestrel interrupted.  “I didn’t want to hurt you, my goddess.”

“I’m sure you didn’t Kestrel.  Don’t worry, my feelings aren’t hurt; I’m sure the situation seemed dire.  He doesn’t handle relations with his worshippers very well,” she assured him.  “But Krusima’s pride is going to be bruised from the harm your fight caused him.

“You’ll need to be careful.  I’ll speak to the others, and we’ll discipline him for having tampered with one of my adherents in such an underhanded way, but he’ll look for a time and a place where he can have revenge on you,” the goddess warned.

“I’ll be careful,” Kestrel promised.  He meant it; an angry god was a dangerous obstacle to face.

“I’ll release you back to the dimension of dreams now Kestrel,” Kai told him.  “And then you can awaken back in your world, and go on with your journey.  I hope you enjoy the surprises in store,” she gave a lopsided smile, and then Kestrel felt his body give a start, and he awoke to find himself in the tree branches where he had spent the night.  The sun was well above the horizon, and Hampus was sitting on the ground below.

Kestrel took a deep breath and collected his wits as he tried to understand the situation, as he felt himself being dizzily flung from the world of his terrible dream to the unknown dimension of his conversation with the goddess, to his return to the mundane reality of the forested mountainside in the Water Mountains.

He slid down from the tree to the leaf-littered ground below, where Hampus rose to his feet.  “Are you finally awake?  I couldn’t get you to wake up for anything,” the elf commented.  “Are you feeling okay?”

“I just,” Kestrel paused a moment, then decided not to try to explain.  “I just had a bad dream, and it wore me out.”

“I hope I never have dreams like that!  You were shouting, I couldn’t wake you for anything, and then you slept for a day and a half,” Hampus said in amazement.  “I’ve just been eating and waiting for you to wake up.  I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d died.”

“A day and a half!” Kestrel said in amazement, wondering where the time had gone.

He stood and digested the reality of his long somnolence.  “Well,” he finally said, “we’ll have to make up for lost time.  Let’s get going,” he grabbed some food out of his pack, and started eating it as he walked along.

He wasn’t really worried about the time that had been lost.  There was no deadline facing them, no need to arrive in Kirevee by a date certain. 

He was worried about the fact that a god was angry with him.  Krusima astonished Kestrel in being so immature as to be jealous of Kai’s statue, but, Kestrel reflected, the strength of the gods and goddesses was largely derived from the number and fervor of their followers, so perhaps Krusima’s clumsy efforts to fool him were understandable.  Krusima wanted his temple to grow as popular as he perceived Kai’s temple to be.

Whether Krusima’s efforts were justified or not, he was apparently going to seek out Kestrel for revenge or further cajoling.  And it would do no good, not because Kestrel necessarily had any dislike of the god, but simply because Kestrel had no relationship with the divinity.  He could not call upon any personal knowledge of Krusima to allow him to shape a suitable temple adornment.

There were no further dreams from Krusima however, and then one day Kestrel felt an uncanny certainty that the god would trouble him no more.  A feeling of being watched, one that he hadn’t realized he felt gnawing at him, suddenly seemed to disappear, and his heart felt lighter as they continued their challenging journey.

Several days later, as they passed not far from where the gnomes lived in the Water Mountains, Kestrel and Hampus emerged at the top of a valley and found themselves on a small plateau, one that was surrounded on three sides by mountains.  As they first stepped onto its surface, Kestrel thought with relief that they would have a break from the arduous work of climbing, because the plateau appeared level, and he knew he desired a respite from hard work as much as Hampus did.  But the appearance of ease proved deceitful; the top of the plateau was riddled with a series of small chasms that were too wide to jump and too deep to climb through, so that they had to weave back and forth, looking for a path to reach the western side of the area.

By late afternoon, Kestrel was growing tired, while Hampus was actively lobbying for a stop to rest.  And that’s when Kestrel heard the scream of a yeti.  He felt terrified, as the monster’s scream came from someplace very near, far too near.

He looked around, and saw the creature rise up from a crouch at a location just to the left of the two elves.

“Hampus, start running!” Kestrel called, as he swiveled to push his companion away from the yeti.

“What is that?” Hampus asked, standing transfixed, not moving as he studied the approaching monster.

“It’s a yeti.  It’ll kill us both in ten seconds if we don’t try to run,” Kestrel said, starting to run, and reaching out to pull Hampus along with him.  The elf started to run, finally, but the yeti was close behind them, and Kestrel heard it getting closer.

Hampus gave a scream from his position slightly behind Kestrel, who turned to see that the yeti’s long arm had brought Hampus down.  Kestrel slid to a stop, turned, and swung his staff viciously at the yeti, distracting the monster as the metal blades at the end of the staff slid harmlessly off the thick hide of the yeti’s arm.

Kestrel jabbed the staff at the monster, and pulled his sword free, then started to back up as it left off its attack on its downed victim and moved forward to rid itself of Kestrel’s pesky attacks. 

Kestrel drew his sword to try to protect himself, holding the blade in one hand while holding the staff in the other, and he surrendered territory in a quick, backward, step-by-step retreat.  The yeti advanced, leaving Hampus behind, and Kestrel saw the wounded elf rise to his feet after a long moment.

Kestrel’s next step back found the edge of one of the plateau’s chasms, and he was forced to halt his retreat as the yeti pinned him in place, and began to step forward through Kestrel’s largely ineffectual sword and staff blows.

Hampus was standing nearby, watching the attack.  Kestrel saw that the other elf was making no move to come to his assistance.

“Hampus!  Distract it!” Kestrel shouted, just as he was struck by the yeti and thrown backwards into the crevasse.  His sword and staff both went flying from his hands, and his pack flew off his back.  He heard the wood of his bow crack as it struck the bottom of the canyon while he fell through the air, and he landed heavily on his back after a fall of several feet.   He lay on the ground, dazed, looking up at the monster’s head peering down at him, feeling terrible pain in his ribcage.

He tried to rise to his knees, every motion filled with pain.  Kestrel was in dire circumstances, and he knew it – there was no hope of outside help arriving, and little hope that Hampus would assist him.   As he realized his predicament, he saw the yeti reach down into the pit.

The long arms of the monster grabbed his shoulder, then lifted him and flung him several feet away, so that he landed hard again, and felt more pain, sure that he had cracked several ribs.  He had no weapon, and the yeti was turning to face him, to approach him, to kill him.

He needed a miracle; he desperately wished he had his beloved, enchanted throwing knife, Lucretia, the only weapon he could think of to help him defeat th
e yeti.  The knife had been the deadliest weapon he had ever used, its enchanted accuracy and ability to return were valuable gifts bestowed by Kai.

There was a sudden sizzling sound. 
Kestrel felt a surging power in his soul, and he felt a weight in his hand.  He saw the yeti approaching him, and he threw what he held, confident that it was Lucretia, or another weapon just like Lucretia – one miraculously endowed with his own powers at that very second.

He saw the blur of motion in the air, and then there was a knife hilt in the chest of the yeti, a dark splash against the lig
ht brown fur of the monster.  The creature let out a terrible scream of anguish, and tried to pull the knife free, then it dropped it its knees as it withdrew the knife with the last savage motion it was to make.

The yeti yelled ferociously, then flung the knife to the side, before it abruptly fell into a prone position, dead.

Kestrel cried in relief, astonished at the fact that he was still alive.

“Kai, was that your gift to me again?” he asked aloud.

“We did it!” Hampus shouted excitedly from someplace overhead.

There was no response from the human goddess.

“A yeti!  That’s really a yeti?  We killed a yeti!  What an astounding thing!” Hampus spoke.  He was out of Kestrel’s field of vision, but he was closer. Kestrel could tell from his voice.

“Stillwater, Stillwater, Stillwater,” Kestrel muttered the words.  He hadn’t wanted to reveal the imps to Hampus, let alone reveal the fact that the imps could carry him far afield.  Hampus – even Hampus – would realize that the whole journey through the mountains was a farce, that they could have made the trip to Kirevee through a momentary embrace by the imps.  But his heavily wounded condition after the battle was such that he had no alternative.

The blue imp appeared overhead.  “Kestrel-friend,” Stillwater began, only to be interrupted by another piercing screech from Hampus.

“Another monster!” the elf shouted.

“Quiet!” Kestrel shouted in response, then gasped in pain, as he hugged his ribs.

“Stillwater, I need to go to the healing spring,” he said hoarsely, and moments later Mulberry and Acanthus appeared.

“What a monster!” Acanthus exclaimed, looking at the yeti carcass.

“Kestrel!  What’s happening?” Hampus asked.

“The imps are going to take me someplace; I’ll be back in ten minutes,” Kestrel replied.

There was one last thing to do.

“Lucretia, return,” he felt his lips curve into a smile at the comforting familiarity of the phrase which he had not used in many months.  He saw the knife release itself from the yeti, and then sluggishly fly back towards him.

The imps closed in around him, and the knife handle plunked against the palm of his hand, and then he was gone.

The imps hovered directly above the water of the pool as they arrived at the spring, and they released him from a height of inches above the surface of the water, so that Kestrel splashed down onto the sandy bar where he usually let the imps sleep.

“We saw the monster that you battled, and we see that you are injured, so we judged it was best to put you into the miraculous waters immediately,” Mulberry explained.  “You do not have to let us enjoy the bliss of the water, this time.”

“You can owe us another visit later,” Acanthus clarified.

“Thank you friends,” Kestrel replied.  “This is most helpful,” he grunted.  He swore he felt relief begin to instantly flow into his body as he lay in the water.  He held up his newly acquired knife overhead, studying it closely.  It appeared to be an exact duplicate of the knife that Kere had given him during his first battle in Estone, when he had fought the agents of Uniontown directly inside the palace of the Doge.

“We have missed you, friend Kestrel,” Stillwater told him.  “You are in an unusual place, here in these mountains.  No one remembers ever coming to you here before.”