The Greater Challenge Beyond (The Southern Continent Series Book 3) (10 page)

“You come back here!” Jenniline’s voice called harshly when he was just more than half way to the gate.

Grange slowed down, despite Jenniline’s insistence that he keep going.

“No man’s going to sneak out of my bed before dawn!” her voice thundered.

She was walking towards him now, stalking him, he saw as he glanced back over his shoulder.

She was virtually naked.  She had shed the robe, and instead wore only a sheer negligee that barely covered her feminine aspects.  And she was coming after him with a sword in her hands.

Grange picked up his pace as he walked towards the gate, and he saw grins on the faces of the guards who were watching him.

“Oh no you don’t!” another voice called out from his left side.

Hope was steaming towards him, covered only slightly more modestly that her sister.

“Is this where you’ve been all night while I’ve been waiting – with that hussy?” Hope shouted.  She veered from her path, turning to intercept Jenniline instead of Grange.

“Stay back or I’ll let you have it!” Jenniline turned to face her sister, brandishing her sword.  “He picked me over you!”

“You give him back to me!” Hope shrieked.

Grange heard the sound of Jenniline rapping the point of her sword sharply on the paving stones.

“Let’s see how well he fancies you after I cut one of your ears off,” the elder princess threatened.

“Guards!” Hope shouted with terror in her voice.  “Protect me!” she motioned to the two guards, as Jenniline appeared to threaten her.

“You better run for your life, old chap,” one of the guards murmured to Grange, as the pair abandoned their post and went to protect Hope from Jenniline’s anger.

“And come back and tell us some stories someday,” the other one added as he passed Grange too.

The gate stood open and unguarded directly in front of him.

Grange heard squeals of anger and fear behind him, but he didn’t turn.  He simply increased his pace and walked through the gate, trembling with excitement.

He spotted a darkness to his right, an absence of anything between two buildings, and he limped rapidly towards the alleyway entrance.  As soon as he entered it he was lost in darkness, but he carefully shuffled forward and bumped into the wooden staircase Jenniline had told him to find.  He trod up the creaking steps as quietly as he could, then opened a door, and found a small room with a bed and a tiny oil lamp burning.  There was a bottle of wine and a glass on a table by the bed.

He sat down, drank a glassful of the wine, then laid back, and tried to convince himself that it was true, that he was actually freed from further torture.

Chapter 10

Grange collapsed on the bed in his new-found cell of freedom in Southgar.  He was only a few yards outside the walls of the palace where he had been held and tortured, but he was breathing free air, thanks to his unexpected rescue, and despite his physical pain, he felt as though he were a hundred miles from the dark cell beneath the palace where he had been mistreated.

There was a small window in the room, Grange discovered, as he uneasily dozed on the bed, and intermittently watched a patch of the wall turn light with the arrival of dawn.  He snuffed out the tiny lantern, then rested easily for hours, until there was a knock on the door, and a man immediately entered.

“How are you?” the man asked.

“I’m better, depending on who you are?” Grange managed to find some humor.  He didn’t know or recognize the man.

“I’m Elred.  I was with Jenniline last night when we brought you out,” the man explained.  He was a young man, though older than Grange, with very light brown hair.

The name was familiar – Grange remembered Jenniline mentioning it.

“Thank you for your help,” he said gratefully.

“What are you doing here?” Grange asked.

“There’s quite a fuss in the palace over your disappearance, and folks apparently have some suspicion about Jenniline and Hope because of their scene this morning at the gate,” the young priest answered.  “They sent a message telling me to move you further from the palace.”

Grange searched the man’s face suspiciously, looking for any evidence of treachery.  There was none in sight.  The priest looked sincerely distressed, and Grange knew that he had few options in any case.  He was relying on the mercy of the small group that had rescued him from the dungeon, and until he felt healthier, recovered from the abuse of the King’s torturer, he had little choice but to follow the guidance of his rescuers.

“Now, in the middle of the morning?” Grange asked.

“I think the sooner, the better,” Elred answered.  “In a few minutes, there’ll be a festival parade passing through the city, right by this gate of the palace.  That’ll be a chance to mix in the crowd and go to the next safe house.”

“What kind of parade?” Grange asked, though he didn’t really care.  He just wanted to seem to be polite.

“It’s a parade of the followers of Ralax, the god of pleasure,” Elred said in a steady voice.  “Here,” he pulled a small pack off his back, and unloaded a costume from it, then threw the items to Grange.  “Put these on.”

There was a blue cape, and a blue, hooded mask, with the semblance of a bird’s beak on the front.  Large, stuffed yellow slippers were made to slip over his shoes, though Grange only had bare feet.

“It’s a bird?” he looked inquiringly at Elred.

“It’s a blue jay.  The bird is sacred to Ralax because of its reputation for playing and never working,” the man explained.

There was a distant blaring of horns, and cymbals clashed as well.

“That’s the approach of the parade already,” Elred sounded the alarm.  “We need to get down there.”

Grange pulled the items into place, then stood up.

“I wonder,” he started to ask a question, then paused.

“What?” Elred looked at him.

“It just seems strange, out of character for the followers of Ralax to have a morning parade, you know?” Grange tried to explain his puzzlement.  “I’d think they would be out partying all night, and then not be able to get up and do something like this in the morning.  Why wouldn’t they hold their parade at midnight, or sunset?” he asked.

“Oh,” Elred gave a half smile, “they do that too; they are much more energetic in their evening parades.  They’re just trying to show off in the mornings and prove they’re relevant, because, you know,” his voice trailed off.

“What?  Why?” Grange asked.

“Well, because we have our god living among us, here in the temple in the city, of course,” Elred was alternately aghast at Grange’s ignorance and proud to tell the tale.  “He came to live among us two months ago, in preparation for a great, cataclysmic battle, he told us,” the priest exclaimed.

“That’s what Jenniline was talking about,” Grange suddenly made sense of the things the princess had told him in the wilderness.

“Undoubtedly,” Elred agreed, still standing at the open door, as the sound of the Ralax parade approached.  “She was one of scores that approached the temple, eager to be chosen to fight with Acton.  She’s one of several that he sent out on a testing quest; she’s one of fewer to come back,” he added.

“But come along; we need to meet the parade,” he waved his hand.  Grange pulled his blue bird-beaked mask down over his face, then peered through the small eye openings, and carefully trod down the stairs behind his guide.  They walked through the alley and reached the thin line of morning spectators who watched the half-hearted parade of revelers and musicians strolling past, clapping hands and throwing occasional small trinkets to interested members of the crowd.   Most of the parade participants wore costumes – some similar to Grange’s.  Others were shepherds or milkmaids or fantastical figures.

“You get in there among them and walk with the parade.  I’ll cut up ahead and pull you out when you’re near the safe house,” he explained.

“Wait! What?” Grange asked in fear.  “You’re going to leave me out here in the parade?  You’re sure you’ll be able to find me?” he asked.

“You’re the only blue jay in the parade,” Elred said soothingly.  “Just stay relaxed, and stay in the front of the parade.  I’ll come pull you out.

“I need to run ahead and make sure the second house is ready,” he said encouragingly.  “You just run along,” were his parting words, as he starting walking briskly up the street ahead of the parade.

“But I can’t run on these legs,” Grange protested softly, as he watched his guide leave.

The front of the parade was drawing even, a row of men marching with horns, and Grange was suddenly reminded of his flute for the first time in many days.  He wondered where the flute was, and tried but failed to remember where he and it had parted ways – probably when he had been kidnapped at Earl Goala’s castle, he decided.  And his sword and knife were probably there too; he momentarily mourned the loss of the weapons, which seemed to have been special items from his past life.

In a pinch though, he told himself, he could probably play one of the horns.  He watched one instrument player’s fingers, then he stepped into the front line of the parade and became a part of the spectacle, just that simply, walking boldly on a path within sight of the palace gates and strolling away from the place of captivity.

As he walked he watched the horn players further, watching how they fingered the valves on their instruments.  It wasn’t as simple as his flute, he concluded, but the act of observing as he walked and limped along took his mind off the danger he was in as a fugitive in Southgar.  Before he realized it, he had already traveled several blocks away from the palace.

“Hey blue jay!” he heard himself addressed for the first time, and saw a band of small boys grouped together along the curb.  “We’re going to pull your feathers!” one of them threatened.

Grange lifted his arms as though they were wings, and took two quick steps towards the boys as he lowered his beak, threatening to spear the boys.

The two steps he took with heavy, speedy thrusts made his legs ache more severely, and he stopped moving forward, to prevent more pain from spreading – he felt his ankle start to buckle.  But the two steps were enough to make the boys squeal with delighted fear, and run off in multiple directions.

“Run before I eat you all!” he squawked.

Grange grinned at his success inside his mask.

There was a blare of horns from the musicians beside him, a fanfare denoting the arrival of a dignitary.

“All hail the mighty blue jay!” one of the musicians shouted out, and all the horn players mockingly circled around him and bowed, then played a discordant, clashing salute to him before they resumed leading the parade onward.

Grange laughed and stood in place, still waiting for his ankle to stop throbbing, before he moved on, walking behind the band at a slower pace, and falling behind.  He felt a sense of double relief when he saw Elred waiting for his arrival minutes later – relief that he would soon be in a safe house, and relief that he would soon be able to rest his injured body.  Elred nodded his head, and Grange nodded back, then dropped out of the parade, and followed Elred into a tavern.

“Sit here,” Elred pointed to a table in the back of the tavern, then he went to the bar and returned with two mugs.  When he sat down he pulled a floppy, non-descript hat off his seat and handed it to Grange.

“Take off your costume, put on this hat, and drink that pint of ale quickly,” he commanded.

“Grange did as ordered without question, making a face at the unwelcome taste of the ale.

“Here, now drink this pint more slowly,” Elred slid the second mug over to Grange, who looked at it with distaste, then took a sip.

“Why am I drinking two mugs of this and you haven’t drunk any?” he asked after his second sip.

“Because you look like you need it more than I do,” Elred grinned.  “We’re only about fifty yards from your new residence, so I figure you can drink a snoot-full then fall asleep for the rest of the day, or a couple of days, for that matter.”

”I’ve had enough,” Grange decided after one more sip.  “We can go now.”

Elred laughed gently.  “Good for you for knowing when to stop.  A lot of folks in places like this don’t know how to do that.” He stood up and led the way out the back of the tavern, into another alley.

They walked through to the other side of the block, then into a store selling bolts of cloth.  In the back, a curtain hid a narrow stairwell.

“Up here we go,” he said, and led the way.

Halfway up the steps Grange suddenly found it necessary to flatten his back against the wall, as a woman came clambering downward.

“A new customer?” she asked inquisitively, as she paused on the same step as Grange, their bodies making contact in the narrow passage, and making Grange squirm.

“No, just a short term neighbor,” Elred answered for Grange.   “But we’d love to see you come by the temple – any temple you want!” he added with another grin.

The man had an unfailingly cheery disposition, Grange was glad to see.

“Maybe we can visit sometime?” the woman said archly, and then she moved downward, on her way out.

“Who was she?” Grange asked Elred as they resumed climbing the stairs.

“Someone who I’m sure you won’t do business with,” the priest said evasively, as they reached a small landing at the top of the stairs, where three doors were crowded together.

Elred opened the door on the right, and led Grange into a single room, with a bed and a table and chairs.  Grange stumped into the room, saw the bed, and rolled into it immediately, worn, in pain, and inebriated.

“I have to go to the temple,” the priest said.  “You just wait here and rest.  Someone will be here after dark.

“Do you think we need to have a doctor come look after your wounds?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.

Grange turned his head and looked away from the man.  A part of him wanted someone to look after him, but his pride didn’t want to admit that he had been crippled by the attacks he had suffered.

“No, I think that if I rest, I’ll be better,” he answered.