Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) (3 page)

"You haven't been able to do anything with the power!" Eli exclaimed with disbelief as Grange escaped the older apprentice’s spell.

"Watch this," Grange shouted, and he began to declaim in the ancient language of power, feeling an uncanny confidence that he had never known before.

"Cymerwch pawb ar y llwyfan gyda drwg yn eu calon,  ac yn erbyn y nenfwd,  os gwelwch yn dda, fy ffrindiau," he carefully implored the power while pandemonium erupted on the stage.

As he watched, the energy that glowed around him suddenly swirled like a miniature cyclone, then flew away in dozens of thin streams of power that targeted the red-banded mercenaries on the stage, as well as the prince and Eli.   The power lifted them all and threw them all upwards against the ceiling, causing them to strike the frescoes overhead forcefully.

Brielle looked at him and laughed.  "At last! You've done it.  You've broken through, and you're ready for the next stage."

The people in the audience were shrieking with fear and astonishment at the sudden displays of violence and power, so far removed from the festive event they had expected to enjoy.

"This has been quite an experience, but my time in this guise has come to an end," Brielle said.   "And though you haven't used our practiced skills, you're going to be able to rely on using your weapons in the battles ahead.   I'll give you another gift," she told him.

"What are you saying?" Grange asked, his pulse still racing, his heart pounding from the energy and the power.  He couldn’t follow her comments.

"I'm not saying - I'm doing," Brielle answered.   She gave him a grin, then reached out her hand in the air and wiggled her fingers.   The knife that had killed Maurin shivered free from his inert body and flew through the air to her, its blade red with blood.

The handle of the knife barely touched her fingertips before it angled away and flew towards Grange.   But in the fraction of a second that it contacted Brielle, a bright red light flashed where she stood, and she was gone.  The crowd screamed again, and Grange grasped the knife handle as it reached him.

I am here for you
, he heard Brielle's voice.  It came from the knife.

And a shining, faceted red jewel was embedded in the knife handle.

Grange stood motionless on the stage, staring at the knife in one hand and the sword in the other.  They were the jewels, serving him - and perhaps serving themselves - ready for battle, the great battle that they were grooming him for.  He was lost in thought and wonder, until a motion in the periphery of his vision caught his attention.

It was Becca, who had crossed through the turmoil in the banquet hall to reach him.  She stood down on the floor below the stage, looking up at him with wonder in her eyes.

You are not meant for her
, the jewels intoned.

"Are you alright?" she asked.   "What did you do?  Will they ever come down?" she glanced up at the traitors who were still plastered against the ceiling.

"Is Grace okay, my lord?" Becca asked without waiting for an answer.

"I, let me check," he was surrounded by tied up, trussed up captives on the stage.   He needed to release them all, he realized.  He walked over to where Grace laid on the wooden floor.  He slid the sword back into its scabbard as he knelt and lifted the blindfold from the wide-eyed girl, and he used the bloody red knife to cut the bonds on her hands and feet, then pulled the gag from her mouth.

"You're covered in the power!" she exclaimed.   "What did you do? I heard you delivering an incantation - it must have worked."  She glanced up and saw the men overhead, then gave a small shriek.   "Look at that!  Are they alive?"

"They are for now," Grange said grimly.   "Help me to set the others free," he told her, and together they quickly released the rest of the captives on the stage.

Chapter 3

"It's been a terrible day," Lord Bartar said to Princess Aubrey a month later as the two of them ate dinner alone with her father in a small, dining room in the private royal quarters of the palace.

The three of them, and other members of the court had gathered to witness the official execution of Prince Grael, who had been hung on a special scaffolding erected in a walled enclosure on the palace grounds.   They were eating in isolation as they suffered from the melancholy that watching the event had induced.

"It might have been better if the wizard had simply killed Grael at the Ball," the princess reflected, "instead of leaving him alive and forcing us all to go through this."

"No, the court has now seen that we will enforce the laws against anyone, even a member of our own family," the king answered.  He had been held captive by Grael's forces for less than an hour on the night of the Spring Ball, confined in his own quarters as Grael had planned to depose him and seize the throne.   "That message will be remembered for a long time."

The two listeners sat in gloomy agreement, and there was a long pause of silence until the King spoke again.

“I fear war is coming.  Lord God Acton’s red star has been brighter in the morning sky than I’ve ever seen it in my life,” he said.

“Neither of you are as concerned about Skote’s saber-rattling as I am at the moment?  You don’t think this was some plot of King Ober to upset our land?” the king asked, referring to the sovereign  of a nation on the east coast of the continent.

“Ober is letting that sorcerer of his push him too far, but I hardly think he’d really go to war with us just because he has a brash young sorcerer.  The magician will be burnt out and taken away by the demons within two or three years, and where will Ober be then, without his sorcerer?  He’d be the target of every other kingdom on the continent,” Bartar opined.  “Besides, I don’t know how Ober could have reached Grael and planted the idea of a coup with him.”

“I’ll keep some patrols out on watch along the borders anyway,” the king agreed.  “But I agree it doesn’t seem likely that Ober could bring enough forces across the wilderness – or the sea – to be a threat.”

“Don’t let a red spot of light in the sky fill your soul with superstitious worries, father,” Aubrey said affectionately.

"So you'll return to Kilau soon to resume treaty negotiations?" the king asked Bartar next, after eating a piece of pastry.

"Within the next fortnight I'll board a ship to return to the island for the next stage of negotiations," the ambassador confirmed.  "We had originally planned for Aubrey to join me on this trip, but with the circumstances here, that is impossible now," he noted.

"I'm hopeful that we can complete the negotiations quickly, within a month or two.   We’re well into spring now, and I'm told that the summer season on the island is unbearably hot and sticky, not to mention the monsoons," Bartar said.  "And of course you'll be heading to the summer palace in the mountains yourself to miss the rainy season here."

"Have you talked to the wizard about your scheme?" Aubrey asked Bartar.

"What are you hatching, Bartar?" King Leonide asked.  "Why would you talk to Brieed?"

"I've got an idea that taking one of those young apprentice heroes of his would allow us to put on an impressive display for the Kilau court, maybe improve our status.  They don't have anything like a wizard at court," Bartar explained.

"But some places have sorcerers," the. King pointed out.  "The kingdom of Skote has a sorcerer; we've only got wizards," he pointed out.  "I hate to give one of our wizards up."

"You didn't even know Brieed had those apprentices until the drama at the Ball," his daughter pointed out.  "You won't miss what you didn't know you had."

"But we lost one already," Leonide pointed out, referencing Eli, who had been executed by Brieed for his involvement in the coup attempt.

"You'll still have Brieed and the pretty girl wizard," Aubrey said consolingly.

"Oh, you don't want to take her?" the king perked up.

"No, I think there's something about the boy, the hero at the Ball.  And with his pale looks, he'll stand out that much more at the Kilau court," Bartar answered.

"Then I'll leave it to you to work out with Brieed.   Just make sure you leave the girl, and tell Brieed I'd like to see her at court more often," Leonide took a satisfied drink of wine.

"I'll mention it," Bartar agreed.  "I've broached the idea with Brieed and he seems strangely receptive to letting the boy go.   He muttered something about the boy having a long, strange road ahead of him."

They all sat in silence for several moments, contemplating the words of Brieed and the new future they faced.

"I'll talk to Brieed about the boy again tomorrow, to see if he's willing to go," Bartar said.

Chapter 4

Grange stood at the railing of the ship, watching the clouds and the waves.  He'd heard the crew of the ship discussing the weather with concern, as the vessel's crude barometer had measured the changing conditions in advance of the arrival of a storm that was now bearing down on the small ship in the open sea.

Two days previously he had thought the worst of the journey had ended, when he had finally overcome the effects of seasickness.  He had looked forward to feeling well again, eating food again, and enjoying the experience of sailing upon the vast sea of water, his first venture ever away from land.  It seemed as though only good times were ahead.  But now he knew he had been overly optimistic.

For the first day and a half of the voyage Grange had only done two things - retched over the side of the ship, or laid in his hammock and moaned.  He hadn't known it was possible to feel so bad for so long.  He'd tried to strike bargains with the jewels, asking them to cure him of his malady, but they had refused.   He'd tried to call forth the energy of the world, but he couldn't remember any incantations that suited his need, and he hadn't recited any others with the authority to persuade the power to aid him.

Then his body had adjusted, he'd felt better...and talk of the approaching storm had begun.  Grange knew nothing about ships and sailing on the ocean; as a boy raised in a city in a mountainous kingdom - a landlocked kingdom - he was totally ignorant about the matters of importance for a sailing ship.  The idea of a storm being capable of wrecking the vessel and drowning every man aboard hadn't occurred to him prior to boarding.

And, he grumbled to himself, the only reason he was receiving this education about the hazards of life at sea was because Master Brieed and Lord Bartar had come to him the previous week and wrenched him away from his blossoming life in the Palmland palace.

Since he had tapped into the extraordinary energies of the unseen world of power, and overcome Prince Grael’s coup attempt in front of the collected nobility of Palmland, Grange had become a celebrity in the palace and the city.  He'd been sought after as a visitor to every noble house in the city, and his appearances with Guy's band had drawn crowds larger than most parties and festivals were prepared to handle.

He'd enjoyed spending as much time as he could with Becca and Tatiana, the girls he had met at the palace Ball, and he and Grace had mostly made a better peace with one another.  The king had formally recognized him (again) and thanked him in a special ceremony at the court.  Life had been as good as it could get, until Brieed had cracked down on his extracurricular activities.

"You demonstrated marvelous abilities with incantations," the wizard had told him after calling him into his office one morning.   "But there is a great deal more that you need to learn.   You still know next to nothing about how to create and use amulets, for instance, nor have you made any potions, powders, or inhalables.

"You should spend more time with your studies of wizardry and less time with your studies of pretty girls," the Master wizard had said with a twinkle in his eye.

Grange had understood, accepted, and even mostly agreed with the advice.   He did have more time available,  since Brielle no longer existed as his hard-driving instructor in weapons and combat;  he did have unstructured time every afternoon that he could devote a portion of it to his studies.  But he had only begun such arrangements for a few days when he had received a note written on heavy, sealed parchment, asking him to meet with Princess Aubrey and sundry others.

An official summons from a member of the royal family was the likes of which he’d never dreamed of.  And the Princess was an attractive woman to boot, with light-colored, almond-shaped eyes that stood out in her dark bronze face.

When he’d readily gone the next day to the small, simple sitting room, he'd found the princess, along with Lord Bartar and Brieed, all sitting and awaiting him, which immediately made him feel intrigued and concerned.

"Thank you for attending us, friend Grange," the princess had greeted him as he had awkwardly bowed.  “I owe you my personal thanks for your heroism at the Ball.   You saved not only the Kingdom, but you saved my life and the life of my fiancé as well.

"We have a favor to ask of you," she flattered him by saying.  She and Brieed could order him to do their bidding, he knew.   He also knew that he might not choose to follow their commands.  He could escape the city and run away; he felt no overwhelming loyalty to the crown of Palmland, though his months of living in the city had been extraordinarily rewarding.

“What do you wish, my lady?" he asked.   He looked from Aubrey to Brieed for an explanation.

"Actually, I'm the one asking the favor," Bartar spoke up.

"I'm going to embark soon on a return visit to the island nation of Kilau, to negotiate a treaty with their queen, to open up trade between our nations.  I'd like for you to sail with me to visit their court for this trip," Bartar said.

"I don't know anything about Kilau, or trading, or treaties," Grange stammered.  "I wouldn't do any good on a trip like that."

"On the contrary, I think you would be a great asset," Bartar asserted.   "There are no wizards at the queen's court.  A demonstration of your abilities would be very impressive, and would enhance Palmland’s reputation.  You could easily help the negotiations."

"Grange, I think you would benefit from the experience in another court." Brieed spoke for the first time.  "From what I know of your future, the more you see and know about the wide world, the better you will be served."

Grange looked from one of the great leaders to another.  There was no evidence of coercion.  He saw only kindness and interest in their faces. 

At the time, Grange had been honored and intimidated by the request from the mighty leaders, and he had agreed to the proposal to travel.

"I should have said 'no'," he told himself days later, on the day the horizon was filled with dark clouds and the sea waves grew in size, while they sprayed their foam upon the deck of the ship.  His mind returned from wool-gathering to refocus on the uncertain present aboard the ship.

He watched as the members of the crew climbed the masts and adjusted the sails while the officers bawled orders.

"You ought to go down to the cabins," an officer spared a moment to advise Grange.

"Soon," Grange agreed.  He wanted to stay out of the shared cabin as long as possible, while Astel, Bartar's page, suffered from a new bout of seasickness brought on by the looming storm's turbulence.

Lightning soon began to cross the sky, and the day seemed as dark as nightfall.  The ship's motions grew more severe, warm waves of sea water drenched him in moisture,  and at last he concluded he needed to go below the deck.

He turned and lurched from the railing to the closest ladder to climb down, when the sound of a tremendous explosion filled his ears and a blinding flash of light enveloped him.  He felt his body collapse as all his muscles were overcome by the effects of the bolt of lightning that had struck the ship.

There was a plucking pain in his arm, then his head struck the deck, and he lost consciousness just before a large wave swept across the surface of the deck and carried him away to sea.