He saw her move - or maybe he didn't - and he suddenly found himself lying on his back on the sand once again, aware of making jarring contact. The girl was standing over him, a hand extended down towards him, offering assistance for him to rise.
"I'm sorry," she said in an apologetic tone. "I reacted reflexively. I hope I didn't hurt you?"
Grange grunted as their hands clasped each other, and she helped him regain his feet.
He stood, still dazed by the inexplicable occurrence, as the girl began to circle him, brushing sand off his back, legs, and in between.
"I saw no ship, and the black fish was the only other thing I saw in the water," she told him as she finished grooming him.
"I was on a ship, and there was a storm," he told her.
"Aah," she said knowingly. "The storm passed last night. We only caught the edge of it; it was a big one."
"I was washed overboard, I think," Grange told her.
"Perhaps your friends sailed on. You're lucky to be alive after being in the water in a storm like that," the girl seemed to want to console him.
"Let’s walk to my village, shall we?" she suggested. "It's a few minutes this way," without waiting she began to slowly walk along the beach.
Grange stared at her figure as the muscles of her legs shifted with each step, then he felt his cheeks grow warm and he knew he was blushing once again. He raised his view and began to walk after her.
Twenty yards down the beach she stopped and picked up a pile of cloth, which she stepped into and shrugged up over her hips, then turned to look at him. She still wore nothing above her waist.
"What about?" Grange was unsure what to say. "Do you have a shirt somewhere?" he asked.
"It's too hot," she answered casually. "We need to go faster; I wasn't really supposed to leave the village this early, and I'd like to get back." She started walking again, and Grange hurried to catch up to her.
"I thought the storm surge might wash some interesting debris up into the lagoon," she told him, turning to share her brilliant smile. "I didn't expect anything as interesting as you though!" she laughed.
"Where are you from? What's your name? My name's Shaylee," she told him.
"My name is Grange," he could answer that question easily enough, as he tried to collect his wits.
"I was on a ship from Palmland, on its way to Kilau," he explained.
"Are you a gift for the queen? A boy without color? I do like the look of your hair though," she said.
Grange looked at her with a perplexed expressed.
"You're so unusual," Shaylee told him. "You must be the only boy like you in the world," she clarified. "The queen would be amazed to see such a sight."
"There are others like me, many others, I think," he said indignantly.
"Ah," his assertion seemed of little importance to the girl. "Listen," she turned to him and looked earnestly into his eyes. Hers were a hazel color he noted with surprise, as attention-grabbing as her smile. "Tell people that I just rescued you two minutes ago, right here on this beach. Don't mention that we were all the way down by the lagoon. I really wasn't supposed to be there. Will you help me?" there was a charming appeal to her tone.
"Yes, of course," he immediately answered, more than happy to do a favor for the girl who had saved him.
"Thank you Grange!" she kissed him on the cheek.
Their path along the beach rounded a point, and Grange saw a collection of wooden homes built in a clearing in the jungle, on a rise above the beach.
"Dad! Dad! Look what I found! A boy with no color!" Shaylee shouted, then grabbed his hand unexpectedly and started running towards the village, dragging him along by her side.
They approached the village and a man appeared around a corner of a building, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked at Shaylee, then saw Grange, and his expression changed to one of surprise.
"Shaylee, be careful!" the man shouted. He started running towards the approaching pair. As he did, Grange saw a group of onlookers appear around the corner of the village as well, gawking to see what the shouting was about. None of the women wore blouses, Grange noted faintly.
Shaylee's father suddenly drew a knife from his waist band, and Grange had a premonition that trouble was about to occur. To make matters worse, a pair of men suddenly burst out of the jungle, armed with spears.
Grange recollected the protective dome Grace had created at the festival in Palmland that had turned into an unruly mob. He planted his feet in the sand and anchored himself as Shaylee's grip on his hand broke while she ran on. He needed to protect himself immediately he saw, as the two hunters with spears abruptly cocked their arms to hurl their weapons at him.
"Grange? Come on," Shaylee skidded to a stop, then turned to look back at him. “Come meet everyone.”
At that moment the two men released their weapons and sent them flying, as Shaylee began to step back towards Grange.
Grange saw with horror that the girl had unknowingly entered the path of the flying spears as she turned to drag him forward, and there wasn't time to use the incantation for the dome.
Use me, Ariana's voice was a ghost in his consciousness.
He pulled his sword off his hip with his right hand, and grabbed Shaylee with his left. "Trust me," he told her, then jerked her down to the ground as he flung his sword blade outward, just in time for the blade of the weapon to strike both of the two spears and knock them up in the air, away from Shaylee and himself.
The trio of men was running at him, and Shaylee's father still carried his knife.
The airborne sword circled around, then returned from its flight, and Grange grabbed its hilt. Without a pause, he recited his incantation to call upon the power, speaking low and urgently as Shaylee rose to her feet behind him. "wnewch ffrind pŵer, yn gwneud cromen i amddiffyn y ferch ac yr wyf yn."
"Please," he added in the common tongue.
The angry men arrived as Shaylee stepped forward to place herself in front of Grange. And then his protective shield blossomed into existence.
Chapter 6
"Gods above and below!" Shaylee's father swore. Others from the village were running to the scene as well, and the two sprinting men who earlier had thrown their spears crashed into the dome before they could stop their momentum. They smacked with audible thuds and a brief sizzling noise upon contact, then fell to the ground.
"Let her go!" the father demanded.
"He's not holding me!" Shaylee said heartedly. "And I can defend myself against him; I threw him to the ground once already, didn't I Grange?" she asked.
He grinned at her in spite of the tension. "Yes you did," he agreed.
"Evil magician, if she is harmed, I and every man in this village will fight to the death to avenge her," Shaylee's father shouted.
"It looks to me like the magician is doing more to protect the girl from your spears and knives than harming her," a woman spoke as she reached the confrontation. "She'd be dead if he hadn't knocked those spears away. Now put your knife away," she said sternly. The knife-wielding man looked as if he wanted to protest, but after seconds of hesitation, he complied with the command.
"Mother, thank you," Shaylee spoke. "How are you doing this?" she turned and asked Grange in a quiet voice. Her eyes looked at him with clouds of distrust faintly visible.
"I can call upon powers," he answered just as softly.
Shaylee's father tucked his weapon back in his waistband, looking sheepish after the fact.
"Now, release my daughter," the mother said.
"Everyone step back! Give him room," Shaylee unexpectedly demanded.
Grange watched as the crowd, now numbering around twenty, edged back.
"Don't anyone think they can harm him. I found him; he's mine," Shaylee asserted, bringing the ghost of a smile to both her mother and Grange. The two of them locked eyes, looked at one another for a long pair of seconds, and then the woman nodded.
"Diolch i chi egni, eich gwaith yn cael ei
wneud," Grange said. There was a soft, virtually inaudible sighing sound, then the yellow dome seemed to momentarily tremble, before it disappeared.
Everyone stood in place, looking across the suddenly unhindered open space between them.
"Shaylee, come here," her father ordered.
"And don't anyone else move," her mother instantly added.
"Go on," Grange urged Shaylee.
"Thank you Grange," she replied. "This will all turn out alright in just a little bit." She leaned in and kissed his cheek again, then left him to head to her parents, as someone in the crowd made a sound of disgust at the sight of the kiss.
"So what happens now?" one of the men who had tried to spear Grange asked.
"I have seen this stranger do nothing wrong," the mother said. Everyone was listening to her, Grange could see. Her words apparently carried weight among the villagers.
"I say we try to pretend this embarrassment never happened, and we welcome him to our village as we would any other visitor," she continued. "Shaylee, would you like to introduce your guest?" she asked mildly.
"This is Grange," the girl immediately spoke with aplomb. She confidently stepped away from her mother to turn and address the assemblage. "His ship was sailing to Kilau and got caught in the storm. He washed up on the beach," she explained. "The close beach, the one right around the point," she added hastily.
"Who in their right mind tries to sail to Kilau during the stormy season?" someone in the crowd asked.
"Let us show him the hospitality of our village," the voice of Shaylee's mother boomed. "Everyone head that way now," she insisted.
The crowd began to turn and walk back, as Grange stood his ground, watching the immediate danger diminish. Shaylee started to return to Grange, but her mother hooked her with a long arm. "You go back to the village, and start preparing an aloe and willow bark poultice," the mother said. "I'll walk with your friend and talk to him."
"What is the poultice for? Do you have a sore?" Shaylee asked.
"No, but our visitor is going to need it. His white skin wasn't made to live in the sun the way our skin can. See, he's turning pink already, and it's going to be sore. Now run along and get to work, and make a great deal," the mother commanded.
Shaylee waved at Grange before she went loping towards the village, and only Grange and the mother remaining.
"Let’s move up into the shade," she proposed. "And tell me what's happening here."
"My lady," Grange began. "Thank you for your help just now," he said.
"My opinion is that I probably saved them more than I saved you. You could have used your power against them, couldn't you?" she asked, but seemed certain of the answer.
Grange had a fleeting recollection of the short-lived battle at the Spring Ball in the Palmland palace. He had used his ability against more than a score of armed men, throwing them up to the ceiling and trapping them there.
"You don't need to answer, I know that you're a wizard or a sorcerer. I've heard of such things," she said calmly. “The question is, what are you doing here in our remote little settlement?" she asked.
"Shaylee told you the truth; I was washed overboard from a Palmland ship that was caught in a storm. We were sailing towards Kilau," he explained.
"Why didn't you just use your power to protect the ship?" the woman asked.
"I didn't know we were in such danger," Grange said sheepishly. "And I don’t know if I could have saved an entire ship anyway," he added.
"Now I don't know what to do," he said, suddenly picturing Bartar and his Page Astel, in his mind. It was terrible to think that they and the ship's crew could have died in the storm. It was ironic too, considering that he had survived when they didn’t, despite being the foolhardy one who had been on deck when he should have been safely below.
"You'll stay here with us, of course," the woman answered. "And when the monsoon season is past, we'll send you to Kilau so you can finish whatever important mission you were on. And who knows, perhaps your friends arrived there safely and will be delighted and amazed at the appearance of their lost sorcerer.
"Unless, of course, you find that the charms of our quiet village prove so tempting that you decide to stay here," she showed him a knowing grin that made him feel an inexplicable uncertainty. “We’re a small village on a small island, a long way from everyone else. We don’t see other people at all during the storm season, and we only go out among the others once in a while to trade or celebrate even when there are no storms; we’re a peaceful people in a peaceful place.
"Now, let's get you under a proper roof and put some salve on that burn," she told him. He watched as she extended a finger and pressed it lightly against his shoulder. He felt pain, and the skin that he thought was white was suddenly revealed to be bright red, as a patch of true white appeared momentarily where her finger had rested.
“See that,” she spoke.
“The sun does that, that fast?” he asked, recollecting his relatively mild swimming sunburn in Palmland. He flexed his arm to look at the skin more closely, only to lightly brush against the woman’s chest, making him blush deeply once again.
“The sun, and other causes,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Let’s go, and I’ll calm the village down. You, in the meantime, stay calm, and do nothing to upset them or make them fear you more than they already do.”
“Fear me? You heard Shaylee say she threw me to the ground before I even knew she had touched me,” Grange protested.
“That’s because she understands how a small thing can move a large thing. You could learn that too; but no one in this village, on the other hand, is going to learn to be a sorcerer,” she told him.
“I’m not a sorcerer, my lady, just an apprentice wizard,” Grange corrected her.
“And I’m not ‘my lady’, I’m Layreen. My husband is Lastone,” she answered. “Now, do we understand each other?”
“Yes,” Grange agreed mildly. “I will not use the power.”
“And you’ll not take advantage of my daughter,” Layreen added forcefully. “The girl is fascinated with your exotic looks; I can see that. I’ll make all the people in the village, Waters End, as it’s known, come to see you for who you are, but I expect that in the meantime you’ll show the character that I think I see in you.”
“I won’t do anything like that,” Grange readily agreed. “She saved my life. I won’t hurt her.”
“Good – I’m glad that’s settled,” Layreen said. She turned and led Grange towards the village, strolling in the shaded fringe of the jungle until they reached the outskirts of the collection of wooden homes that were scattered without pattern or organization, other than leaving a central circular open space where a large animal’s carcass was roasting over a bed of burning coals.
People stood in doorways of several homes, staring at the arrival of Layreen and Grange.
“He is simply a person who washed up from a ship wreck,” she said loudly as she came to a stop in the center of the open area. “His skin color is different, but he’s the same as us, except he’s a wizard. So now he is going to be here among us for a little while, and we will treat him as a guest.”
“How long is he going to be here?” someone asked.
“We will open our village to him for as long as he wants to stay,” Layreen answered. Grange saw several heads shaking in disagreement.
“But he wants to go to Kilau, so once the season of storms is over, we will help him make the journey there,” Layreen added.
“Is he healthy? Is it an illness?” a woman asked as she protectively held onto a pair of children.
Grange started to step forward to answer, but Layreen extended an arm to hold him back.
“You go into the cabin where Shaylee is standing, and tell her to place poultice on all of your exposed skin – face, neck, back, even the tops of your feet,” she directed. “And don’t forget our little conversation,” she added meaningfully.
“Yes, he’s as healthy as
someone can be who had to float in the sea all night long,” Layreen turned to answer the question with a voice meant to project throughout the village. “Consider that – he was swept out of a ship in a storm, and is still alive the next day.”
“Does he get his powers from Shaina – is he sent here to hurt us?” another questioner asked as Grange walked away.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’ve done anything that the goddess of punishment is very concerned about. What have you been doing?” she asked theatrically, drawing a round of light chuckles, as Grange reached the doorway of the hut where Shaylee stood.
“Come in,” the girl greeted Grange. “I’ve prepared the poultice mother wanted for you. Where do you need it?” she asked.
Grange stood in the shade, and felt an immediate relief from the absence of the heat of the sun; he realized that he hadn’t appreciated the amount of pain his skin was radiating as it tightened up under the blazing tropic sun overhead. He looked around the interior of the hut – it was a large room with a pair of doors leading presumably to smaller rooms along the back wall. There was a collection of cooking utensils in one corner of the large room, clothing and material piled in another, and – with a start – Grange realized that Shaylee’s father Lastone was sitting and silently glowering at him from a third corner of the room, as he appeared to use a scraper to treat a piece of leather or hide.
“Your mother said I should have the poultice on all the exposed skin that the sun is burning,” Grange answered. “I’ll put it on my chest,” he glanced over at Lastone, “if you’ll put it on my back where I can’t reach.” Without waiting for an answer, he took the small pot of goo out of her hands.
He pulled his knife and sword off their scabbards on his hips, to increase his flexibility, and happened to discover that his flute had somehow, incredibly, managed to stay intact as it had traveled with him in his pocket on his inexplicable journey from Bartar’s ship to his location in the small village, Waters End. He set them all down, knelt down next to the small pile of his belongings, and set the pot of ointment on the sandy floor of the home, then dipped his fingers into the cool contents, and gingerly drew the first swipe of poultice across his chest.
Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) Page 4