The Greater Challenge Beyond (The Southern Continent Series Book 3) (38 page)

“Inge?  What are you doing here?” the young princess was surprised to see her brother on the tower roof with Grange.

“Just chatting, sister,” Inge replied, and he passed her as he went down the stairs.

“And what are you doing here, sister?” Jenniline asked as she came up the stairs a moment later.

“I’m not poaching on your hunting range,” Acco said, her chin held high.  “I came to see the Champion.

“I hope you’re well,” she spoke to Grange.  “You did the bravest thing I’ve ever seen before.  I’ve never even seen a god before, and then to see Shaine – it was shocking, frightful!  I hope she never comes to punish me!

“But you stood up to her!  You’re the greatest hero in the kingdom,” the princess said.  She leaned forward towards Grange as she spoke with eagerness, and the angle of her posture thrust her bosom prominently into Grange’s view.

“So you came to bump into the Champion?” Jenniline tartly asked.

“No,” Acco snapped, as she straightened her posture.  “I came to tell him that I had a vision last night, a vision that I would ride through the wilderness with him.  I believe the gods want me to go into the wilderness as his companion.”

“You had that dream?” Grange asked, astonished to have two people receive the same vision on the same night.

“I did.  And it came once before, less urgently, the night after I saw you; I’m sure that I must go with you,” Acco insisted.

Grange glanced at Jenniline, who had edged behind Acco, and was vehemently shaking her head negatively, trying to put the kibosh on the notion of Acco accompanying him.

“I’d like to think about it,” Grange said.  “It may be dangerous, after all.”

“What is danger to a man who can stand up to a goddess?” Acco laughed.  “There can be no danger from the Bloomingians that you won’t overcome.”

“I’ll consider it,” Grange repeated firmly.  “Now you go off and get a good breakfast,” he urged.  “You’ll find it’s much easier going down than it was coming up.”

Acco gave him a sweet smile and a curtsey, then she glanced at Jenniline, and disappeared down the stairs.

“She gave you fair warning,” Jenniline said.

“Who?  Acco?” Grange asked.

“No, Shaine; she warned she was going to punish you.  See how she’s doing it – she’s sending Acco to be your shadow,” Jenniline replied.

“My lord, two more visitors,” Geric came to announce, and for the rest of the morning, a steady stream of members of the young guard of the palace nobility came to see him in ones and two, all telling the story of a vision or dream of being with him in the wilderness – some riding, some fleeing horror, some tending to wounded companions they did not know.

Grange was convinced that a message had been sent – sent to all those who came with sincere beliefs that they were destined to travel with him.   But he had received no message himself, no command to take all the claimants with him.

“You were pretty exhausted last night,” Jenniline said.  “Maybe you slept through it,” she suggested cavalierly.

“Or maybe you just figured I’d be able to take care of them all while we go south,” Jenniline said with studied casualness.

“You never have asked me to go with you,” she said after a moment of silence.

Grange tried to maintain a serious demeanor, but then broke into a grin.  “I just assumed you’d be with me.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Jenniline seemed satisfied by the tacit invitation.

“We better go eat some of the last of the breakfast food, before the hall closes until lunch time,” she advised.

They were halfway down the steps in the tower when they ran into Prince Halsten, who was on his way up, not having visited Grange earlier.

“You’ll save me the journey to the top?  You’re an even greater hero than the whole city thinks,” Halsten told Grange.

“We’re going to breakfast,” Jenniline told her brother.  “Will you join us?”

She seemed at ease with most of her siblings, Grange thought.  In the days he’d been at the palace, he’d seen her converse in a friendly tone with most of them, while he’d been expecting her to be more of an outcast, from the stories she had told him during their days in the wilderness at Yellow Spring and Hot Springs.  Serving as his counselor seemed to have given her confidence in her role and comfort in dealing with others.

When they sat at the breakfast table, they received their meals, and a swarm of visitors, as Halsten told the familiar tale of being in the wilderness with Grange.

“I have to think about this, about supplies and traveling,” Grange said.  “But I think I’m supposed to take a great crowd with me – a dozen or more it seems.”

“Father will still want to hear from you, although we’ll do it in a much more private setting, with a smaller audience, if you don’t mind missing more drama,” Halsten told Grange.

“I’d be very happy not to face any more drama,” Grange ran his fingers through his hair, showing off the colored streaks.  He grinned.

“Shall we say tomorrow?” Grange suggested.

“Just before lunch,” Halsten agreed, then left the table.

Chapter 28

That evening, Grange pulled a hood over his head and left the palace, seeking to spend a night playing music anonymously, if possible.  He wore a tight, thin cap over his hair, in addition to the hood, and he was able to walk through the streets of the city without drawing a second glance.

He’d not had any such luck within the palace grounds, where he’d been recognized and approached, or pointed at, or whispered about by everyone who saw him.  Even in the armory, where he was in the least intrusive environment – where a meritocracy of skills was the guide to how contestants related to one another – he had been patted on the back many times.

He felt better by the middle of the day, the last of the effects of the terror of facing Shaine having disappeared.  But he still longed for the freedom of an environment where his confrontation with the goddess would not be the sole thing that was remarked on.  And he held onto faint hopes that he could find such surroundings by unobtrusively playing music in a tavern.

He hurried through the streets to arrive at the dance hall that Leeds had told him to visit for the evening session.  Inside he continued to wear his tight cap to hide his distinctively-marked hair, and he tuned his flute in a corner of the stage with his back turned to the audience, until Carrel, the mandolin player came over to him.

“Are you ready to start?” Carrel asked.

“As good as new,” Grange said pleasantly.

“You know, I had a strange compelling dream last night,” Carrel told Grange.  “I dreamed that you and I were with other people traveling through the wilderness, on some very important mission.  When I woke up, I just knew that I had to be with you, and join you on a trip.

“Are you going on a trip to the wilderness soon?” he asked Grange.

The man’s share of the visionary dream startled Grange.  “I do have a plan,” he said hesitantly.  “What did your dream say about the journey?”

“There would be danger, but there would also be friends along as well,” Carrel said.

“When I am ready to go, I’ll let you know, and you can decide if you want to join me or not,” Grange told him.  “And it’s likely to be soon.”

And with that, they turned to the crowd and began to play their music, providing accompaniment for Leeds as he sang an opening series of rowdy drinking songs suitable to the venue they were in, before switching to the dancing tunes that satisfied the crowd.  Their assignment lasted for three hours, well into the evening after nightfall, and Grange was gratified that no one in the audience caught on to who he was; the lack of his public persona allowed him to simply enjoy the pleasure of making music and harmonizing with the other members of the group.  As they ended the night, Grange announced that it was his last show as part of the trio.

“I have to leave on a journey soon,” he said to the other two, not looking at Carrel.

“I may have to do some traveling soon as well,” the mandolin player immediately added.

“That’s funny, and it makes me feel better,” Leeds told them.  “I’ve been asked if I’d sing in a larger group that pays much better, but I didn’t want to leave the two of you out in the cold.  If you’re sure you’ve got other things to do, I’ll take the offer.”

Both the others warmly encouraged him to do so, and exchanged contact information so that they could stay in touch, then departed from the dance hall.

He made his way immediately to Huem’s temple.  It was ironic that he did so, he thought.  He should look upon Acton as his partner and companion, as the god he would seek advice and information from.  But Huem’s temple, and his own particular priest there, seemed to provide the ear to listen and the advice to follow, whereas Hockis unfortunately threw up a roadblock to communication at Acton’s temple.

As seemed to always happen, Grange sat down and found his priestly conversationalist sitting near him within minutes.

“How do you do that?  How do you always seem to be here?” Grange couldn’t help but ask, as he removed his cap from his head to show proper deference to the god of the temple.

“I live here, you know,” the priest replied.  “And when I see someone come in with hair like yours,” he waved his hand to indicate the crossing lines of color in Grange’s white hair, “I feel compelled to enjoy what will inevitably be an interesting conversation.”  He smiled to show his genuine pleasure in conversing with Grange.

“These dreams, do you know about them?” Grange asked.

“Tell me what you mean,” the priest answered.

“All day today, people have been coming up to me,” he paused, then decided he needed to explain more.  “Did you hear about Shaine appearing at the palace yesterday?”

“I heard a little about her; I heard a lot more about you,” the priest said.  “You’re a hero to the whole city.  No one can imagine a boy standing up against a god, especially – especially,” he emphasized the word, “Shaine.

“I’m not sure it’s a sign of high intelligence, but it certainly shows bravery,” the priest opined.

“She was being so unnecessarily cruel to Baron Holmgren,” Grange answered.  “I may not like the man, but I wouldn’t set him on fire.”

“Well, since you know about that,” Grange returned to his intended topic, “last night, several people dreamed that they would go with me on my trip to the wilderness, to go see the Bloomingians in exile, and invite them to return to Southgar, the way Acton instructed me to.

“I don’t know who sent them all the dream.  I didn’t.  I don’t know why I’d want to take them all – they’ll just make the trip more complicated, if anything,” he groused.

“Who could have had the ability to send such a message to so many people?” the priest asked.

“Only a god,” Grange stated the obvious.

“Do you think it was Shaine?” the priest asked.

“It might seem like punishment to make me take that many people with me,” Grange chuckled momentarily, remembering Jenniline’s jibe, “but I think she would have done something more direct.  This doesn’t seem to be her style.”

“So which other gods could have sent the dreams?” the priest tried to apply logic to the case.

‘Only Acton and Miriam have been involved, so it must be one of them,” Grange reasoned.

“And do you have any reason to doubt the motives of either of them?” his companion asked.

“No, of course not,” Grange instantly replied.

“Then should you have any worries?” Huem’s temple resident asked.  “It doesn’t matter which of them did it, or why, if you trust them.”

“I guess not,” Grange gave a small shrug.  It wasn’t the clean answer he wanted, but he couldn’t fault it.

“You didn’t have the dream, did you?” Grange asked with a grin.  “You seem like someone who would be handy to have on the journey.”

“I have not had that dream,” the priest smiled back.

Grange stood up.  “Thank you for your time and your answers.”

“I didn’t really give the answers; I just let you discover them for yourself,” the man said as they walked towards the door.

“Good luck on your journey, young Grange.   You’ve done so much already, but I expect there is even more good yet to come from your efforts,” the priest said as they reached the front of the temple.  “I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said as they shook hands.

Grange walked back to the palace, feeling a sense of peace and serenity as a result of the visit at the temple.

Chapter 29

The next morning, Grange ate breakfast, then spent time on the tower roof, filling his wand with power, as he waited for the start of the appointment to meet with the king once again, in a hopefully less flamboyant meeting.

Jenniline accompanied him through the back passages of the palace that she knew so well, and shortly before lunch time they arrived at the door to a small audience chamber.  When admitted by a page, they found all the other members of the royal family present, as well as a handful of the senior nobles of the court, including Baron Holmgren.

The room was smaller than their previous audience setting, though still larger than the dance hall Grange had played in the night before.  The king and his two sons sat alone at one end, while the others sat or stood along the side walls.  There were no guards, Grange noticed, and he commented upon it to Jenniline as they entered the room, just before she left him so that she could take her place sitting with her sisters.

“Welcome to our second attempt to greet you and welcome you, to hear your plans for carrying out your mission that Acton, the god of war, has given you on behalf of Southgar,” the king himself greeted Grange.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Grange said, as he reached the spot on the floor from which he expected to tell his story.

“Father,” Jenniline spoke up unexpectedly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room because of her unscripted voice.  “Grange commented upon the fact that there are no guards evident in the room,” she said.