Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) (7 page)

“So, when we get to the court,” she began, and she started to ask her mother questions about the life of the royal family.

“The royal family lives on an island in the harbor, in a large compound around the palace.  We had servants to take care of us,” Layreen gave a description of some of the royal prerogatives she had enjoyed as a child.

“Why doesn’t Kilau trade with other people outside?” Grange asked.  “I didn’t really pay a lot of attention to the talks at Palmland, but I think Ambassador Bartar was trying to sign a treaty so that people in Palmland could buy and sell things with people in Kilau.  Why don’t they just do that already, anyway?”

“The old king, who died when I was just a young girl, did not want outsiders to come to Kilau at all.  He said the gods had put us on these islands to keep us separate from all others, in a special place.  When his daughter became the queen, she just continued his ways.  I don’t think my aunt cared one way or the other, but the people who had advised her father told her it was good for Kilau to remain separate from other people, that there was nothing we needed from other lands.

“Except, of course,” she paused, “some of them did have businesses that bought things from other places, and those were okay, they said.  So there are some ships that sail from Kilau to far places to bring business goods back to the island,” she grimaced as she told her tale.

“But now the queen is talking to Bartar,” Grange commented.  “She seems willing to maybe let Palmland’s traders start buying and selling the goods from Kilau,” he pointed out.

“I hope that is the case, if you think it is a good thing,” Layreen said.

“It won’t make much difference to our village, will it?” Shaylee asked her mother.

“No, not immediately,” Layreen agreed.

“But it will be good for some people in Kilau, and some in Palmland?” the girl asked Grange.

“I am told it will.  The people of Kilau make nice cloth,” he pointed out.  “They’ll get more money by selling it to Palmland.”

“That is the silk.  Silk and lace, made by the people of the mountains in the center of Kilau.  The fabric is wonderfully soft, and beautiful to look at,” Layreen said with a smile.

“Then it should be traded, if there are things we want to have from Palmland.  Is there anything from Palmland we want to have?” Shaylee turned to ask Grange.

“Well,” he said impulsively, “there’s me!” he laughed, and the two women laughed too.

“You’re so right!” Shaylee said.  “Why didn’t I think of that?”

The friendly banter between the two carried on as Layreen watched and smiled and steered the boat, answering their occasional questions to her about the royal court at Kilau.  The sun set, the stars came out and they ate their sparing supplies as the canoe cruised forward relentlessly.

“Grange, I think we’re near the main island,” Layreen stated soon after they ate.  “You should slow the boat down.

“Shaylee, move back to the front of the boat and get the two dresses out for us, so that we can arrive at the palace in the proper attire,” she directed.

The girl reached over and placed her hand on Grange’s thigh to steady herself as she rose and turned, and he yelped in surprise as she squeezed him tightly before releasing him, once she started forward.

“Did it hurt?” she asked archly as she settled into her original perch.

“No,” he answered, “it tickled.”

“Diolch pwerau i chi, efallai y byddwch yn rhoi'r gorau i wthio i ni ymlaen,” he uttered once he collected his breath, and the canoe slowed to a more sedate pace through the sea water.

“Do you see those lights on the horizon?” Layreen asked.  “Those,” she spoke on without waiting for answers, “are the lights of the palace towers.

“We’ll be there in half an hour.  Grange, you keep paddling straight ahead,” she directed.

The canoe gave a pair of wobbles, then Layreen brushed past him and joined her daughter in the front of the small vessel, and Grange could dimly see the two of them shrugging their more extensive clothing over their heads and into place.

Grange continued to paddle, and the canoe continued to make its seemingly slow progress towards the lights, as Layreen trembled the boat again when she returned to her position in the back.

“See those two light houses?” she asked a few minutes later.  “Those are the entrance to the city harbor.  We’ll go between them, and pull up to the island in the harbor.”

“When will we go to the palace – tomorrow?” Grange asked.

“As soon as we land,” Layreen answered.  “The island in the harbor is the palace and the grounds.  The royal family lives on the island.”

The canoe reached the opening between the tall, bright lighthouses, then entered the harbor.  The passengers in the canoe would see the lights of the city along the harbor shore line, while the island appeared in front of them, closer, and lit up just as brightly.

“Let’s steer around to the right, and dock on that side of the island.  That’s the non-public dock,” Layreen instructed as she began to turn the canoe from her seat in the back.

The right side of the island was relatively dark, Grange noted, as a few dim lanterns hung at the ends of wooden docks.

“Hail ship, who arrives?” a voice called from the end of the dock when they approached.

“We’re hardly a ship,” Layreen answered in an amused tone.  “I am Duchess Layreen Kwa’Graccore, arriving from the village of Waters End, with my daughter Shaylee, and a guest,” she announced herself.

“Approach and wait at the dock,” the man’s voice sounded uncertain as he replied.

The canoe glided up to the side of the dock.  Grange reached out and caught a rope as they slowly arrived; he held onto it and brought the canoe to a halt, while a group of lanterns came strolling along the top of the dock towards them.

“Please step up to the dock,” a man’s voice said in a friendly tone seconds later, when the group arrived at the canoe’s location.

“Grange, you’ll hand us up, of course,” Layreen said.  He stood accordingly, and offered his hand to help the mother, then the daughter step up to the dock, and he stepped up immediately afterwards.

“You’ve brought an outsider?” the man asked critically, immediately upon seeing Grange’s odd color in the ruddy light of the lanterns.

“He is a stranger who washed up on our shores several weeks ago.  He was part of a mission of outsiders who tried to sail to Kilau during the monsoon season, but he was washed overboard,” Layreen answered.  “And you shall address me as ‘My Lady’,” she added.

The men in uniform on the dock looked from Grange to her.

“I have heard the story of the runaway Duchess, Layreen Kwa’Graccore,” one of the men spoke up.  “but these others are too young to have heard the story, and none of us can verify your identity of course.  Do you have some way to prove your identity?”

“You could take me to see the Queen, my aunt.  I’m sure that Queen Shajo will remember me.  I have a few stories that she’ll remember,” Layreen smiled.

“The queen is engaged,” the officer spoke.  “We will take you to a waiting room at the palace, and I’ll let the staff at the palace decide what to do about you.

“And this is your daughter?” he asked. 

“She is, though she wishes to deny it sometimes,” Layreen said with a straight face.

“I see the resemblance.  She may wait with you,” the man answered.  “As for the foreigner, we will take him to meet the other foreigners, to find out if he is truly one of theirs, or if he’s someone else we need to deal with.”

“I would prefer to wait with Layreen and Shaylee,” Grange said instinctively.  “We’ve been together for quite a while, and I’d like to stay with them, to keep an eye on them.”

He heard snickers from the squad around the arrivals.

“What exactly would a spindly boy like you do to protect these woman, not that there’s anything to protect them from?” the officer laughed.

“You would do well to honor the boy’s good intentions.  Believe me, there’s more to him that meets the eye,” Layreen spoke up.

“He would astonish you!” Shaylee said emphatically.  “I’d trust my life to him in any situation.”

The officer smirked.  “The three of you may remain together for now,” he conceded.  “Gather your belongings and we’ll escort you to the palace.”

Grange stepped down into the canoe and momentarily handed the small cache of belongings they had brought up to Shaylee.  Then the trio was escorted by the group along the length of the dock, to where it ended at a paved shoreline.  The collection of guards and guests and lanterns turned and strolled through a small boat yard, then entered a gated garden.  The air was fragrant with the smell of the flowers that bloomed.

The air also carried the notes of music, songs that Grange recognized from his hurried tutorial in the music of Waters End.

“There is a dance at the palace,” the officer explained, the notes of music audible to all.

He said no more, and the escort proceeded to a door in a long, high wall, the wooden wall of the palace itself, Grange assumed.  The door opened and the music grew clearer as they walked down a hall to a vestibule, where they came to a stop.

“Please have a seat while I send a messenger for the palace staff, who will decide what to do with you,” their escorting officer directed, with a wave at a set of chairs along one wall.

The three guests took seats, and watched as a messenger was sent out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you were a duchess!” Shaylee said to her mother as they sat side-by-side.

“In the village, I’m not a duchess.  I don’t need to be.  But here in the palace, the title helps people listen to what I have to say,” her mother said placidly.  “Titles make a difference, don’t they captain?” she asked their escorting officer.

“Yes ma’am, titles make a difference,” he agreed.

There were four guards plus the officer in the room.  With ample light provided by the candles in scones on the walls of the chamber, the guards from the docks extinguished their lanterns, and stood calmly around the room, until a pair of men entered.

The two new men were dressed in iridescent shirts, which had low collars opening half way down their chests, and the men wore grass skirts that stretched from their waists to the middle of their calves.  Grange had seen men in Waters End wear grass skirts occasionally, but only for extraordinary events, such as the rash of weddings that his music had helped to facilitate.  The skirts these men wore were much thicker and fuller that the village clothing, and were dyed with streaks of brilliant colors.

“Our apologies,” the escorting officer told the two men when they arrived.  “We’re sorry to call you from the dance, but this lady claims to be Duchess Layreen Kwa’Graccore, and she says the queen can corroborate her claim.”

“They’re obviously imposters,” one of the two newcomers said dismissively.  “What about the foreigner?”

“He says that he was part of the delegation that is visiting the palace, but he was swept off the boat, and washed up on shore,” the officer answered.

“Another ridiculous claim.  Eject them from the island, at once,” the other man said, and the two functionaries turned to leave the room.  “We have duties to perform,” one of them said as they started to walk away just seconds after arriving.

“Go ahead, Grange,” Layreen said softly.

Grange was already trying to formulate the words to use to prevent the men from departing, plus he was annoyed with their manners, and wanted to punish them.  He gave a grin as an idea came to him, and then he stood up, while he began to speak. “Yr wyf yn gofyn, ffrind gwirodydd, yn gwneud y ddau sy'n gadael troi o gwmpas ac yn aros. Os gwelwch yn dda hefyd yn gwneud eu gwallt yn troi yn wyrdd, ac yn gwneud eu sgertiau dal ar dân,” he requested of the spirits.

The moment he asked, he saw a glow in the air around the two officials, as the power chose to obey his request.

The two men stopped, their feet paused in the air unnaturally, frozen in mid-step for a moment, then they lowered their feet and turned around.  At the same time they both shouted in surprise, then raised their hands to their heads, feeling some sensation, as a wave of bright green coloring swept over their scalps, turning their thick black hair a bright shade of green.

And even as the hair color transformation was occurring, flames suddenly broke out at the bottom of their skirts.  Small flames and tendrils of smoke began to rise upward, and the men screamed loudly in fear.

They hooked their thumbs in their waistbands and shoved the skirts down to the floor, then stepped out of them and danced a step away from the burning piles, shocked and fearful.

“Diolch i ffrind pŵer i chi, mae hynny i gyd y tân ei angen arnom,” Grange uttered, and he watched the flames extinguish from the skirts.

“Is there a better way to treat a Duchess?” Grange started to ask, then he swept his sword off his hip and swung it to his left, blocking a spear thrust that had been aimed at his back.

Grange wheeled around, looking at all the other occupants in the room as all but the three visitors stood frozen in disbelief at the events that had happened.

“I told you he would astonish you,” Shaylee said smugly.