Jeffrey Quyle - The Healing Spring

“I want to see the Doge. I am the People’s Champion,” Kestrel said. He saw the boredom on the faces of the guards, and responded by pulling his cape away, then lifting his shirt over his head.

“I want to see the Doge, and I understand he wants to see me,” Kestrel said, as the two guards looked at him closely, then whispered between themselves.

“Step inside the gate here, and we’ll have a guide sent to take you inside,” one of the guards said.

Kestrel entered the gate, then pulled his shirt back on and wrapped his cowl around him. Within minutes, a palace servant in a luxurious uniform arrived, and led Kestrel inside, to a luxurious sitting room. “Moresond will be here in a few minutes to meet with you,” the servant said.

Moresond was the herald of the palace, the man with the deep rich voice who had met Kestrel at the time he had been invested with his titles. It was a check on his authenticity, he realized, one that might not even require him to remove his shirt again to prove his worthiness to be taken before the Doge.

The door handle turned, and a man dressed in black entered the large ornate room where Kestrel sat alone.

“Well, it is our young divinely approved champion, I see,” Moresond spoke as he approached. “We’re delighted at your return. I’ll go immediately to see the Doge and arrange for an audience, and then the two of you can make plans. He’ll be relieved to know that you have returned to protect your people.

“Just as a matter of curiosity, may I see the divine marking on your chest? I recognize you and will vouch for who you are, no matter. This is simply to indulge my own wish to see what the touch of a goddess can do,” he explained.

“Of course,” Kestrel agreed. He again lifted his shirt, realizing that he was likely to repeat the performance again for the Doge and others, and thinking that he needed to wear an easier shirt to remove.

“It is remarkable,” Moresond said. “There’s nothing to let one know it isn’t completely natural.”

“It is natural, now,” Kestrel assured him.

“Of course,” the herald agreed as he straightened up. “I’ll go now, and be back very soon.” He left Kestrel alone in the room as he departed. Only a moment later there was another knock on the door and two maids entered.

“Oh! We didn’t know anyone was in here,” one feigned to be unaware of Kestrel’s presence in the room.

“It’s no problem,” Kestrel assured them as they began to wipe and dust random pieces of furniture around the room, constantly stealing glances at him. Within two minutes, a young servant boy also entered the room.

“I came to see if I could help you with anything,” the boy said, his body pointed towards the maids, but his eyes focused on Kestrel.

He followed one of the two maids around the room, until there were no more obvious excuses to remain any longer. All three of them approached Kestrel to curtsey and bow. “Is there anything further we can do to assist your grace?” one of the maids asked.

“No, nothing at all, but thank you for keeping me company,” Kestrel said politely, as another knock foretold the return of Moresond, who looked at the cleaning staff with raised eyebrows.

“The Doge will see you now,” the herald announced. “He’s just finishing an audience with the new ambassador from Uniontown.”

Kestrel nodded to the trio in the room, then left. In the hall he and Moresond were promptly followed by two ceremonial guards. “It’s a sign of the respect the Doge has for you,” Moresond assured him in a calm voice, and they proceeded through a maze of turns to reach a grand receiving hall, where the Doge received visitors before a large number of members of the court. There was a sinister feel in the room, one unlike anything Kestrel had ever felt before, and he felt an alarming tightness in his chest, but as he stopped momentarily in reaction to it, the feeling dissipated, and the crowd in the room seemed to breathe a similar sigh of collective relief.

A large entourage was leaving the room on the far side, wearing a great deal of deep red, as two members of the group limped in a peculiar manner that seemed oddly familiar to Kestrel. Within moments he gasped audibly, as he realized the limp was the same uncomfortable gait that Hinger and Termine had used before their feet began to heal.

“Were there slaves in that group?” Kestrel abruptly asked Moresond.

The herald looked at him oddly. “Slavery is technically not permitted in the nation of Estone, but occasionally we find a case here or there. The ambassador is new to this post; we’ve never had any embassy from Uniontown before at all, so he may not know our laws and customs yet.

“He’s just been officially recognized, though he’s been here for several days. He and his staff have managed to offend virtually everyone they come in contact with — such arrogant people,” he explained. “Though there are those weak-willed few who seem to crave a bully to make their decisions for them.”

“Here’s the Doge,” he switched topics as they arrived. “You’re not on the published schedule of course, so this will wake up the crowd, which is just what the Doge wants! Now wait right here until I call you forward,” Moresond was being quite talkative, Kestrel thought, compared to their last encounter. He wondered if the herald was nervous, or whether the palace official perhaps actually liked him.

“The Captain of the Fleet and Champion of the People, as designated by the Doge and confirmed by the divine Goddess Kai, Kestrel, seeks audience with the Doge,” Moresound called out loudly from the top step of the platform the Doge sat upon. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then an electric buzz in the air as every observer said something to their neighbor or even to themselves at the surprise arrival of the Champion.

The Doge waved Kestrel towards him, so Kestrel climbed the steps, and stopped just one step below the Doge on his dais. “I have just arrived in town last night, your honor, and wished to present myself to be received by you.”

“Thank you, friend Kestrel,” the Doge answered directly. “Do you have time at the moment for a private audience?”

“Certainly, your honor,” Kestrel replied.

“Good,” the Doge said in a low voice, as he rose from his seat immediately. “I need a happier visit after listening to that odious villain from Uniontown. The man seems to plan to become a force here in Estone; he’s announced plans for a grand party at his estate, and there seem to be a few weak-spined people who want to listen to his claims about new powers rising and a new order in the world,” he harrumphed as he led Kestrel and Moresond and a guard behind the throne and through a discreet door, down a hall, and into a quiet study, where the guard remained outside the door as the others took their seats inside.

“I’d like to see it, of course,” the Doge said immediately, a wish that Kestrel had anticipated. “Do you know, I’m having to arrange to allow pilgrimages into the palace these days so that the people can see the chapel where the goddess stood and touched you?” he added as Kestrel pulled his shirt up over his head and walked over beside the seated leader.

“The architect has elaborate plans for building a pilgrim’s way into the palace, just to the chapel and back out, which will be preposterously expensive, of course,” the Doge muttered lightly as he examined Kestrel’s artwork. “That’s quite a triple-headed title,” he commented softly. “Now turn around and let me see the back,” he commanded. Kestrel turned, and felt the Doge’s hand covering Kai’s handprint. “It’s a delicate feminine hand, isn’t it?” he asked. “Though it obviously can pack quite a powerful strike. You’ve been slapped by larger hands that left less pain, eh Moresond?” he chuckled.