Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “This side of the palace is quiet,” Shaylee advised, as she walked with Grange and Grace along the north side of the palace island.

  “Brieed keeps his quarters away from the main activity of the palace in Palmland,” Grace noted. “I’ll do the same here,” she decided. “Let’s stake a claim to these rooms,” she strolled through a basket-making workshop.

  With that decision quickly made, the three young people toured the palace island, seeing places that Grange and Grace had not seen previously during their constrained visits to the palace. The three had a pleasant morning and lunch, until Shaylee was called away by a group of young courtiers who had planned a day of boating with her.

  Grange and the girl said a friendly farewell, then she strolled off smiling and giggling with the trio of boys who paid close attention to her as they headed towards the docks on the east side of the island.

  “She’s your favorite, isn’t she?” Grace asked as she watched Grange watch Shaylee disappear from view.

  “We were awfully close, and we’re a lot alike,” Grange didn’t want to put into words his agreement that the girl from the small village was someone he especially liked. “I’d like to see her more.”

  “You can come visit me when I’m established in the palace, and you can see her too,” Grace suggested helpfully, and Grange agreed it would be a sound tactic while he remained in Kilau.

  The second notable event was his return, twice in one week, to visit with Carie and practice tossing the javelins and heavier spears the man had at his estate. He enjoyed Carie’s company, and the feeling was mutual. Grange stayed overnight at the country home and practiced his various weapons with Carie for hours.

  The third event happened on the second visit to practice his spear skills with Carie. When his spears began to fly further than he expected as his abilities increased, he had to wander into the fringe of a forest patch to find the wayward weapons. As he bent to pick them up, he noticed several long, thick canes on the grown, deadfall from the thorn bushes he had to evade. They were as thick as tree branches, he thought, as he looked at the slick, shiny exteriors. He saw one length that had no thorns along its length, and he picked it up along with the spears.

  When he returned to the embassy that evening, he carried the light bramble cane up to his room and called the energy forth, telling himself there was no reason to get any more excited about that stick than any other that had failed to provide a good candidate for the wand he wanted to create. Yet his quickening pulse was a silent testament to the fact that he had secret expectations nonetheless.

  When he applied the testing layer of power to the cane, the surface appeared to be flawless, with no visible signs of energy flows anywhere except at the two ends of the cylinder. He rolled the slightly curved stick to the side and saw no problems on the underside either. He grabbed the cane and went plummeting down the stairs excitedly.

  “Grace!” he called as he burst into her room, then stopped in astonishment.

  The girl and Astel were lying on the sofa in her room, their lips pressed together.

  “Grange! Don’t you know to knock?” she called out in exasperation and embarrassment as she lifted her head and looked at him. “Step out and I’ll talk to you in a minute.”

  He hastily backed out into the hall and pulled the door shut, then waited nervously, debating whether to walk away or not.

  After many seconds passed by, Astel came out of the door, a wide grin on his face. “You are blushing so badly your whole face is red,” the page said as he passed Grange and hurried down the hall to the stairwell.

  “What brought you barging in so rudely, like you own the place?” Grace asked from the doorway a moment later.

  “So you and Astel?” Grange let the question hang in the air, still surprised. He had thought Grace had dismissed Astel as a romantic interest. And then she had kissed him on the roof one night, he remembered quite clearly.

  “You’re chasing after that village girl who lives in the palace now, aren’t you?” Grace countered his question with a question. “You’ve got no room to talk. Is that all you came down here to do – to check on me?” she asked indignantly

  Grange suddenly remembered the potential wand in his hand.

  “This,” he held the briar cane out in front of him. “I think it could be an excellent wand. What do you think? Do you want to see it?” he asked.

  Grace gave him a withering look, then looked down at the wand. “This is what you bothered me for?”

  She turned and walked back into her room without a comment to him. She reached her table and sat down, then looked up at him. “Well, are you coming in or not?” she snapped.

  Grange cautiously entered the room, and watched as Grace called the power out of the air, and applied the glowering layer of energy to the exterior of the wand candidate. She studied it intently, then released the energy.

  “You do it,” she said.

  Grange looked down and sought the power, then applied it to the shiny, smooth exterior of the cane, just as Grace had. The layer of power was just as unruffled as it had been the first time he had tried it, like a layer of fresh varnish on the stick.

  “It’s too good to be true – it’s perfect,” Grace told him. “Where did this come from? How did you do this?”

  “It’s from my friend’s country estate,” Grange answered. “I’ve been picking all manner of sticks up to see if they would work, and this one was, well, you saw what I saw,” he answered.

  “Grange, everything falls into place for you. Everything,” she lamented.

  “No, not everything,” he replied. “I haven’t been made a court wizard already, for instance.”

  “Oh stop it,” Grace replied, but the tone was a concession to him that he had scored the debate point.

  “So you have the perfect stick to be a wand. Do you know when the next full moon will be?” she asked.

  “Almost a fortnight away,” he answered.

  “Then for the next two weeks, you need to pump this wand full of power as often as you can, as much as you can,” she told him. “Make the wood grow to remember the feel of power residing inside it, so that when the time comes, we can lock it into position.”

  “So, I’m just going to train the wood to hold power? Does it matter what the power is supposed to do?” Grange asked.

  “Make sure it’s a variety of things – light, noise, heat, movement. Whatever you can think of and do. Don’t let it be just one thing over and over again. And try to use the same end to send the energy in and out through – just one end, not both,” Grace advised. “We’ll go out when there’s a full moon and carry out the first stage of the conversion,” she told him.

  “Now go along and let me have some privacy,” she commanded, and Grange readily left the room.

  Chapter 13

  Grange changed his routine once again, to create more time to spend with the wand he planned to prepare for use. He eventually left Kilau city altogether for a week to stay with Carie out on the estate in the country, where there was more open space and fewer neighbors – ideal for not only throwing a spear, but for exercising his wand as well. He made strange lights, loud booms, rainstorms, windstorms, small earthquakes even. All were efforts to expose the wand to the use of energy – as much as he could pour into the slender vessel, doing as many things as he could think of.

  Casey and Jadie came to the country home as well for a few days. They practiced swords with he and Carie in the morning, then sat and suggested things for Grange to make the wand do in the afternoon. At first the notion was frightening and fascinating, but familiarity soon made it evolve into entertaining, as they took up the challenge of thinking up new activities.

  “We’ll be heading back to the city tomorrow,” Jadie told him one afternoon. “You’ll be coming too, won’t you?”

  “I am going back tomorrow, as a matter of fact,” Grange agreed.

  “So you’re going to join the tournament?” Jadie asked with intere
st.

  “You’re a guaranteed winner,” Carie said languidly.

  “What tournament?” Grange asked. He vaguely recollected earlier talk of a tournament, but his trip to the city was focused on the full moon that was only two nights away, and the chance to advance his wand’s development.

  “We’ve told you before!” Casey said shrilly. “There’s a big tournament. The Harborside armory is the largest in the city, and it’s their open tourney – anyone can participate.

  “You’ll enter, won’t you?” she asked.

  “How long does it take? I’ll enter if I have time,” Grange agreed. “I’ll know more when I get back to the embassy.” He was mindful of not only the steps to finish his wand, but also the pending sailing adventure with Asloe’s trading ship. His departure on that journey was likely only a few days away as well.

  “It’s a two day tourney. Don’t worry; we’ll tell you all about it and get you there on time,” Jadie said easily. “Now, can you levitate that horse?” she changed the subject.

  The next morning the three visitors left Carie, providing the young man with a return to his preferred near-solitude on the farm, as they rode back to the city.

  “We need to go to the registrar at the armory to sign in,” Casey told Grange, as the two women turned their horses to travel through a part of the city Grange had never visited before. They wound up waiting for some time in a long line at a posh-appearing club, and received assignments to appear the following morning at their various sites to begin the competition.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow!” Jadie told Grange when they returned to her home, as he prepared to walk back to the embassy. “You won’t have to use any of your magic to win the tournament, don’t worry, but if you want to use it to help Casey and me, feel free to do so!” she grinned, as Grange walked away.

  Grange reached the embassy at midday, and joined Astel and Bartar, who were sitting down to lunch.

  “It’s good you could come back to join us,” Bartar said in a kindly tone. “I’m beginning to fear that you’ll go native on us and just blend into Kilau society.”

  “He won’t blend in,” Astel said confidently. “He’s too fair-skinned!”

  “I was speaking figuratively,” Bartar grinned.

  “Will Grace be joining us for lunch?” Grange asked.

  “She has moved into the palace,” Bartar said. “We see very little of her these days, as she has settled into her new home.”

  Grange noted the downcast expression on Astel’s face.

  “Of course, if for some reason Wizard Brieed or the king disapprove of the arrangement, we’ll call her back to the embassy with us. That would leave the Queen unhappy about not having a wizard at court of course, and would probably put an end to our hopes for a treaty however,” Bartar went on.

  “Grace could come back with us, and Grange could stay here as the wizard then, perhaps,” Astel suggested hopefully.

  “We’ll just wait to hear back from the court before we worry about that. We should receive a reply within another fortnight,” Bartar answered.

  “I may be gone by then,” Grange pointed out. “Trader Asloe still expects me to join his expedition, which should leave soon.”

  “And by the time you return from that adventure, we will surely have everything wrapped up here,” Bartar said optimistically. “Your agreement to work on his behalf has greatly pleased the queen.”

  “Are you going to go watch the tournament tomorrow?” Astel asked.

  “I’m going to compete in it,” Grange replied, and watched a look of astonishment pass over the page’s face.

  “How can you do that?” Astel asked. “Are you that good?”

  “We’ll find out tomorrow,” Grange replied. He was confident that he would perform well, but knew that in the random assignment of competitors it was possible he would face difficulty in any match.

  “Can we go watch him?” Astel asked Bartar.

  “I would say that we’re obligated to,” the ambassador answered. “Tell us when and where to find you,” he asked Grange.

  After lunch, Grange worked with his wand once again, sitting alone at the table in the garden and testing ways to store more and more power in the wand. Because of the limits of being back in the city, unable to be as imaginative with the wand as he was in the country, he grew bored with the work, and went down to the armory to practice after a couple of hours. He sparred with a number of the members of the club until dinner time, asked and answered many questions about the tournament, and then returned to the embassy.

  He felt restless that night. He went directly up to the roof immediately after dinner, and played his flute when he wasn’t working on the wand.

  “Ariana, are things going the way they’re supposed to?” he suddenly asked out loud. “Am I prepared for the fight with demons? Is there even going to really be a fight with demons?”

  There will be a fight, and you must be ready, the jewel answered. You are doing a credible job of trying to prepare, doing better than most mortals I have hopes..

  “Don’t you know if I’ll be ready?” Grange asked, astonished at the lack of a definitive answer.

  We will not know until the battle is begun, Ariana’s voice answered simply.

  Grange was unsettled by the equivocation, and was afraid to press for any more clarification. He had hoped that the voice of the jewel would offer some peace of mind, but that hadn’t proved to be the case. With a sigh, he gave up on his activities, and simply watched the stars and the waxing moon overhead until he fell asleep.

  Chapter 14

  Grange stayed at the embassy later than usual in the morning. He skipped his regular ritual of going to the armory, and waited until his time was up, then went directly to the site of his first round contest in the tournament. The tournament was a well-known, highly-anticipated, and greatly watched form of public entertainment, he discovered, as he saw large crowds ringing the sites of other opening battles, with vendors selling food and drink, and even some fans waving pennants for competitors they supported.

  He also found out he had quickly earned a nickname for the tournament, one that he picked up in his very first match. His opponent was an older man who fought bravely, but not for long, against Grange in a first round contest that only lasted two minutes.

  The crowd wasn’t large for the early battle; it was much smaller than many Grange had seen as he had walked through the contest fields. But among the crowd was someone who had seen Grange and Grace perform together on the very first night Grange had been at the palace, when he and Shaylee and Layreen had arrived at the end of their journey from the village.

  “I thought the foreigner was a musician, but apparently he’s more than that,” the observer had said, and thereafter, the fans at the tournament named Grange “the Musician”.

  He found that he had to wait for long periods between matches, especially in the early rounds of the tournament, as hundreds of matches were contested around the city to cut the size of the field in half. By the time he began his second match, it was almost noon.

  Bartar and Astel found him several minutes before the second match, and they waited in the moderately-sized crowd that lined his small contest arena.

  Grange had little trouble dispatching the arrogant young swordsman who he faced in the second round. The hotshot had won his first match and seemed to consider himself an inevitable finalist in the tournament’s championship match, until he ran into Grange’s sword. Grange disarmed the man three times in the first minute, and won the match easily, as the crowd cheered for the Musician.

  “You’re the crowd favorite!” Astel told him excitedly when Grange rejoined the others after the match.

  “My next match will be in just an hour, at a different location,” Grange reported. “I better head that way.”

  When the three Palmland visitors reached the site of the third-round match, they discovered that Grange had moved up to a more prominent arena, one that had actual bleachers
for a larger number of fans to sit in.

  In the stands, Grange noted that Shaylee was sitting with a number of young people. She smiled and waved wildly when they made eye contact across the open space, and Grange waved back as he waited for the umpire to call the two contestants onto the mat.

  When the contest began, the opponent was cheered wildly by those sitting in the seats where Shaylee and the other youngsters from the palace sat. Grange didn’t have time to look for Shaylee though, as his opponent charged at him aggressively, got inside Grange’s defenses, and used his greater weight to press Grange backward with a chest bump and a hard knee in Grange’s thigh. Grange wheeled as Shaylee’s father Lastone had taught him in hand-to-hand battle, then Grange assumed a new defensive stance, and waited until the palace champion came at him again.

  Grange watched his adversary more carefully during the second phase of the match, all the lessons Ariana and Brielle had taught him coming to the fore. He feinted with his right foot, then threw his left hand outward, before striking with a hard right-handed thrust of his wooden practice sword that struck his opponent hard enough to knock the man down.

  Grange immediately pounce and pressed his sword point against the man’s throat.

  “Do you surrender?” Grange asked.

  The defeated man looked up at him with angry, blazing eyes. “You cheated,” he accused.

  “No, I just beat you,” Grange answered heatedly. The man had fought dirty, and Grange had been caught off-guard before he had fought back. The match had antagonized Grange, and he was determined to beat this opponent and the next one as well. “I beat you because I was better.”

  He lifted his sword, then turned his back on the downed man and walked away, as the audience began to cheer. Grange reached his designated spot, and was recognized by the umpire as the victor.

  While the man raised Grange’s arm triumphantly in the air, Grange looked over at where the palace contingent sat, and he saw to his relief that Shaylee was standing and applauding him, even though the others in her crowd were clapping politely, at best, if they clapped at all.