The Elemental Jewels (Book 1)

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The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) Page 24

by Jeffrey Quyle


  “This’ll be fine,” Grange decided after seconds of examination.

  “I wasn’t giving you a choice,” Eli said. “Now stay here and enjoy it,” the older apprentice commanded, then turned and left the room.

  Grange stood in the middle of his austere room. The sunlight was streaming in through the windows on the side wall giving the room warmth. There were no curtains, nor anything hanging as decorations on the walls, and the furniture was sparse and simple. He went to the bed, where he laid his sword down on the floor then lowered himself onto the mattress, with a sigh of relief.

  Somehow he had crossed an unexpected border, and gone from his life that now looked idyllic in hindsight, living with Ariana, practicing skills and playing music, to now being caught within the apprenticeship of a palace wizard. There would undoubtedly be wonderful things he would learn, but he wouldn’t be in command of his own life, he was sure.

  And to think that Eli had already spent eleven years as an apprentice! Grange felt certain that he was going to die as an elderly apprentice in the Palmland palace.

  “Can you help me become free?” he asked the jewels softly.

  There was no response.

  “Ariana, can you talk to me?” he asked tremulously.

  The jewels were silent.

  Grange gave a sigh, then felt his eyes moisten at the thought of his abandonment by the jewel he had spent so much intimate time with.

  You are in a safe place. Open your mind and your heart and your soul, and learn these lessons, unsettling though they prove to be, Ariana’s voice spoke. You need this – it is part of the plan.

  He felt better. At least the jewel who had once been a lovely girl had spoken to him.

  He closed his eyes and rested, as the room grew warmer from the northern sunlight streaming steadily into his room, and he dozed into and out of sleep throughout the late morning and into the midday.

  There was a knock at the door, and a young boy entered immediately. Grange raised his head to look over the half wall, and the boy shouted in surprise.

  “I did not know anyone was in here, my lord,” the boy said.

  “Then why are you here?” Grange asked.

  “To tell the housekeeper if anything is needed,” the servant replied.

  “Yes, I need curtains, heavy curtains, to keep the sunlight out,” Grange replied. “And some pillows and sheets for the bed.”

  “Are you going to stay here?” the boy asked in surprise.

  “Yes; why else would I want the pillows and sheets?” Grange asked.

  “Oh, I don’t think people like this room,” the boy shook his head.

  “What’s wrong with it? Does the sunlight make it too warm?” Grange asked the obvious.

  “It’s the noises,” the boy said dismissively. “You’ll just have to see what you think.” He closed the door and left.

  Grange lay back down, and wondered at the statement. What kinds of noises could occur in the room, he wondered. He rose from his bed and walked stiffly to the windows, looking for any clue to possible sources of sounds, but saw nothing more that promised any answers or problems. He did smell the faint aroma of food cooking somewhere, a smell that instantly aroused his appetite.

  He didn’t want to climb down all the stairs to look for food, but he couldn’t think of any other option, so he grabbed his flute on impulse, and put it in the pocket of his hospital robe, then started slowly moving down the hallway to the stairs. He opened the heavy doors easily with the handle that existed on the inside, wondering how easy it would be to open them again when he returned.

  Each step was a long moment of activity by itself, as Grange lowered his good leg, then swung his injured leg around. The descent down the stairs took a handful of minutes, but then he was on the ground floor, and out the door. He took a deep breath, feeling somehow as though it was a breath of free air after serving a sentence in jail, though he’d only been in the wizard’s lair for a few hours.

  He hobbled slowly around, drawing stares as he walked in his white hospital robe, while he ignored the stares and followed the scent of food. He came to a building behind the stables he had seen from his room, and found a small knot of guards and stable workers all eating skewers of meat and vegetables being grilled over a small brazier by a pair of elderly women, who twirled and flipped the food with practiced ease and speed.

  A few of the men looked up as Grange arrived, but most ignored him as they sat and ate their meals, swigging stone bottles that Grange guessed was ale or hard cider – perhaps even cider from some of the very apples he had picked, he thought to himself with a small grin.

  “I don’t have any money,” he told the ladies when he reached the edge of the brazier. “Can I promise to come back and pay you some time?”

  “Where are you from? Don’t you have any clothes?” one of the women asked.

  “I just got out of the wizard’s quarters,” Grange replied. “I don’t have any clothes yet. Just this robe and my flute,” he gave a small smile. “And my sword back in my room.”

  “You’ve been in the wizard’s rooms, and you’ve come out?” one of the guards asked.

  “No one comes from his quarters except him,” a stableman said.

  “That redheaded girl came out a few times, when she was new,” a guard reminded his companions.

  “Yeah, until Cale broke her heart,” someone else laughed, and slapped one of the men on the shoulder.

  “Lucky she didn’t turn you into a head of cabbage,” someone else chimed in.

  “Or a turd of horse manure,” Grace’s voice spoke in an icy tone from behind the group, making all conversations and jokes cease.

  “Grange, come with me. We have work to do,” she said.

  “But I’m hungry,” he protested.

  The cook held a skewer towards him, then silently nodded her head towards Grace.

  “Thank you,” Grange said softly. He took the wooden stick with the food, and carefully maneuvered towards Grace’s location.

  “Here, let me support you, my love,” the girl told him in a surprisingly kind tone. She took the skewer from his hand and draped his arm over her own shoulder, as she wrapped an arm around his waist, then returned the skewer to him. They began to walk away, as Grange took a quick first bite of the food he had been given; it tasted wonderful, savory and moist and tender.

  The pair rounded a corner to leave the line of sight of the small meal, and as soon as they did, Grace unwrapped herself from Grange.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. “I ought to make a ring of flames burn your feet for this stunt.”

  “I was hungry,” Grange said simply.

  “I was hungry; I was hungry,” the redheaded girl mocked him. “We’ll feed you when we’re ready. Now let’s get back to our building.

  “We’re going to miss eating with Master Brieed as it is, because of your hunger,” she chastised him.

  “Where will we eat then?” Grange asked. “And why were you so nice back there? And why did we kiss this afternoon? Who are you trying to trick?”

  Grace paused. “Why are you so full of questions? You’re new here. We’ll tell you what you need to know,” she said emphatically.

  “We’ll go to the palace kitchen to get something to eat,” she decided. She stopped abruptly, then switched the direction she was heading.

  “No,” she stopped again. “First, we’re going to put you in some reasonable clothes, so you don’t look like an idiot, walking around in that robe.” She began walking in the opposite direction she had begun, Grange trailing behind her, trying to keep up despite the injury to his leg. They reached a small set of store fronts inside the palace grounds; wide doors that opened upward to expose the entire width of the shops behind each door. All were closed already, but Grace walked up to one and began to pound loudly on the door.

  “Hakim, open up,” she said as she paused in her pounding. There was no response, leading Grace to reach into the front of her gown a
gain, and pull out her wand. She bit her lip in concentration, then pointed at the ground level latch, and began to mutter soft words. A flash of light shot from the tip of her wand and struck the bottom of the door.

  Satisfied, she placed her wand back in its hiding place. “Lift the door,” she said to Grange.

  “I’ve only got one good arm!” he protested.

  “Try at least, before you make excuses,” Grace said in an exasperated tone.

  Grange squatted down, then tried lifting the wooden door, but his injured shoulder prevented him from making much progress until Grace snorted and bent down to assist him. The door swung up and out, and the pair of them saw a young man standing in the shop behind the door, blinking at the sudden flood of light.

  “Why didn’t you answer, Hakim?” Grace demanded.

  The man inside was perhaps a boy, perhaps a young man. He studied Grace coolly for a moment, but Grange sensed that there was also a whiff of feeling intimidated in his pose. His eyes shifted to Grange for a moment of silent study, then moved back to Grace.

  “I’ve just closed for the evening,” he said.

  “We need some clothes for my friend,” Grace said. “What do you have? Just something simple for a day or two – I’ll put in on the wizard’s bill,” she said, with a slight emphasis on the word ‘wizard’.

  “This’ll be quick, if you do it right,” Grace added.

  Hakim’s eyes narrowed momentarily. “Here,” he walked over to a wall of folded clothing items, and studied Grange. “Try these,” he pulled a pair of blue pants from a cubby, one of an innumerable collection of storage spaces that covered the wall, “and try this,” he added, as he pulled a gray cotton shirt from another cubby, and tossed both items to Grange.

  Grange studied the bundles, then immediately threw the shirt back. “I have to have long sleeves,” he said.

  “Afraid your arms will look too skinny and weak?” Hakim sneered. He looked at the wall, then pulled down a green shirt. “There, that’s your clothing, now let me close up and go; I’ve got dinner plans with a wonderful girl tonight,” he was clearly trying to goad Grace, Grange could see, though Grange had no idea about the root of the pair’s hostility. He could see that the girl had apparently managed to establish antagonistic relationships with a number of people.

  “Thank you,” he said immediately. “We’ll take these and go, won’t we Grace?” he asked the apprentice wizard.

  “We will not go until I say so!” she whirled to face him, her eyes flashing with emotion. She pulled her wand free and pointed it at him.

  Grange took a step back, away from the girl, and held his hand up in protest.

  “Let’s not get excited,” he said.

  As soon as the words left his mouth, a spark of bright energy flew from his palm and struck the wand, blasting it free from Grace’s grip. It twirled upwards in the air, then fell to the floor, bouncing and rolling before it came to rest. Grange was astonished – it was an act by the jewels without a doubt, one that he didn’t think was necessary.

  “It’s good to see someone can control her,” Hakim said.

  Grange turned the palm of his hand around to stare at it, amazed by the unexpected blast, while Grace’s face turned white. She stared at him in disbelief, stooped and picked up her wand, then left the shop, running for all she was worth.

  He had embarrassed her and startled her, and he felt badly. Though she hadn’t treated him with any particular consideration or kindness, she had done more for him than anyone else. He sensed that she felt insecure, especially around men at the palace; he didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to contribute to her pain, especially when he was apparently on course to serve as an apprentice with her in the wizard’s quarters.

  “If I hear anything said about this, or if Grace tells me anything I don’t like to hear about you, I’ll be back, and you won’t be happy,” Grange warned the shop keeper. He raised his palm threateningly, making the man flinch.

  “And thank you for the clothes. Have a good night with your friend,” he added awkwardly, then clutched the clothes tightly to his chest and left the shop.

  “What was that for?” he asked the jewels as soon as he was several steps away from the shop front. The alleyway was empty of anyone else, liberating him to speak freely to the beings that accompanied him. “You embarrassed that girl.” He dropped the shirt, and began to pull the pants up beneath the robe. They were loose around the waist, but he felt immensely more comfortable with the feel of trousers.

  She was threatening to harm you, and so we protected you, a voice, the one he thought was Rigan, replied.

  “She wasn’t really a threat,” Grange protested, certain that Grace would have done him no harm. He looked around, saw no one in sight, then removed the robe. His jeweled arm was exposed, but there was no one present to see it. He hastily picked up his new green shirt, and pulled it over his head. The sleeves were too long, but that was preferable to having them too short. He rolled up cuffs, picked up the discarded robe, and began his slow walk back to the palace wing where Brieed’s hallway awaited.

  The sun was sitting upon the horizon, a large red disk, when Grange got back to the doors of the palace wing. He slowly walked upstairs, then reached the closed doors that barred entry to the wizard’s area.

  “Hello?” he called. He pounded a fist on the door, but the heavy metal absorbed his thrusts with little noise produced. Grange pushed on the doors to try to open them, but they were solidly fixed in place.

  “Hello? Wizard? Eli?” he called.

  “Who calls?” a voice asked from the other side of the doors.

  “It’s me, Grange, the new apprentice,” he replied, filled with relief that someone had come to his rescue.

  “What are you doing out there?” the voice asked.

  “I don’t know how to open the door; I’m waiting for someone to open it. Will you let me in, please?”

  There was a grunt, then one side of the door opened slowly, and Grange slipped though, relieved to be back in his quarters, without any further barrier between him and his bed.

  Standing beside him was the boy who he recognized had checked on his needs for linens earlier in the afternoon.

  “Thank you,” Grange told the boy. “Thanks for your help.”

  “I thought maybe you had run away. What were you doing out there?” he asked.

  “I went out looking for dinner,” Grange explained, but I couldn’t get back in.

  “Not much of a wizard yet, are you?” the boy asked. “I put your curtains and things in your room for you. Good night,” he said, then went on his way.

  Alone, Grange walked down the length of the hall. The door to Brieed’s room was closed, he saw. The door through which he had seen scribes working was closed as well; there were no sounds or indications that anyone else occupied the floor. He’d managed to eat the skewer of food he’d gotten from the old lady – it wasn’t a lot of food, but it would be enough to tide him over, since he was apparently getting no more.

  When he got to his room, he slowly worked at putting the curtains over the windows, then spread the sheets upon the bed. He took off his shirt, and picked up his flute and sword. He laid the sword next to the bed, before he laid back in the darkened room, and began to play a simple tune on his flute, one of the quiet ballads he had learned from the villagers while picking apples on his way to Palmland.

  The music was relaxing, and he needed to relax. He was in a new place, without friends, with injuries that ached and with unknown expectations for what he was going to have to do from now on, as he embarked on his unwanted apprenticeship with a wizard. The jewels seemed to think it was acceptable, but he wasn’t so sure.

  He played another piece of music, one that he had learned while playing with Guy’s band in Palmland. It too was a slower song, one that usually drove young dancers away from the dance floor.

  As he played, he imagined he heard a woman’s voice singing the lyrics, and as he continued to play
he realized that there was indeed a voice, singing the song in a very lovely manner, hitting all the notes just right and matching her tempo perfectly to his. The song finished, and he waited a long pause before starting another melody, also a local song.

  As he had expected and hoped, the voice joined with him after only a couple of bars, and sang the words perfectly. It was a pleasure to listen to the woman sing, so much so that he lost all his worries about the future, ignored all the pains and aches his body experienced, and focused only on playing the music that the woman embellished with her talents.

  He finished, then began a new song, one from the mountain villages once again. The voice was quiet, possibly unfamiliar with the tune, and so he cut the song off early, then switched to another of the local Palmland tunes, a livelier one that he imagined was played in taverns and bars, as well as at dances. The lyrics were mildly bawdy, but humorous enough to always make him smile. As he had hoped, the woman started singing along, and she sang with gusto. He gave her a tempo that allowed her to play with the syllables of the words, and by the second stanza her voice grew momentarily quieter, then began to grow louder.

  Moments later a stream of light entered his room, and the volume of the music increased dramatically. The singer had come to him, he realized! She continued to sing, then closed the door behind herself, restoring the dim level of light to the room, and she walked around the half wall divider, then stopped her song in mid-note, as Grange likewise stopped playing.

  The two looked at one another.

  “You sing songs like that?” Grange asked Grace in astonishment.

  “You can play that well on your instrument?” the girl asked in equal astonishment. “I never would have believed it.”

  “I played music for dances before the wizard found me,” Grange answered. “Where did you learn to be such a good singer?” he asked.

  “I was a tavern singer before Brieed found me and brought me here for training. I wasn’t a prodigy like you who can use his powers before his training even begins,” her voice turned bitter.

  Grange didn’t want to upset the delicate moment of peaceful interaction between the two of them. “What’s another song that you like to sing?” he asked.

 

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