Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  The guard who was thrusting the spear followed his weapon’s momentum in shock as it slid along the wall, moving away from his target. Grange gasped for breath in response to the blow as he heard Shaylee scream his name again, then he pressed the butt end of his own spear into the stomach of his attacker, causing the man to fold up as he collapsed to the floor.

  Grange stood with his back against the wall, one guard on the floor, another knocked to the side, and a third recovering from his injuries.

  “Grange!” Shaylee looked at her from her spot next to the fourth guard, several feet away. “What are you doing?”

  “I came to find you,” Grange said.

  Layreen came through the door at that moment. “Shaylee, what is all the commotion out here?” she asked, then stopped and stared at Grange and the other fighters, as the guards picked themselves up and pointed their weapons at him once again.

  “This foreigner attacked me,” Grange’s first opponent said while wiping blood from his chin.

  “I did not; he attacked me,” Grange responded instantly.

  “Stop it, both of you. Grange, why are you here?” Layreen asked.

  “I saw Shaylee leave the hall, and I was on my way to find her. This guard wouldn’t tell me if she had come this way,” Grange answered.

  “Well, you’ve found her,” Layreen replied. “She is fine. We’re both tired, after our long journey today and then this dance, as I’m sure you’re tired too.” She spoke in a kindly voice. “These guards are going to escort us to the rooms that have been prepared for us in the palace.

  “Why don’t you go peacefully back to where the other foreigners are staying, and we will certainly expect to see you back here in the palace soon,” the newly-recognized duchess seemed to wrap up the night’s events.

  Grange felt his anger and concerns drain away. He dropped the spear he held, and listened to it clatter to the floor.

  “I’m glad to know you’re okay,” he said. “Thank you for bringing me to Kilau. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure. Good night everyone,” he ended his comments abruptly, then turned and started walking away, back down the hallway away from the doors. He turned a corner, and continued to walk away in silence until he returned to the doorway back into the ballroom. He leaned his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes to hold back tears at the thought of the gap that had suddenly opened up between the two women and him.

  After spending a minute to regain his composure, he opened the door and went back to Bartar’s table.

  “There you are!” the ambassador said. “We were afraid that we had lost you.”

  “I just went out for some fresh air,” Grange answered. He took a seat next to Astel. “Will we be here much longer?” he asked.

  “You’ve had a long day of travels, I imagine,” Bartar said. “Astel, take our intrepid traveler back to the mainland to our lodgings. Grace and I and the others,” he referred to a pair of silent servants, “will be on our way after a bit more time here.”

  Astel stood to go.

  “Thank you my lord,” Grange said, standing up as well.

  The pair of them left the table, and Astel led the way to a large pair of doors nearby. The page seemed to know his way around the palace and grounds, for they were soon at a set of docks that were much more ornate and attended by many more ships and guards than the docks that Grange and the others had canoed into.

  Astel hailed a water taxi, which took them across the smooth waters of the harbor towards the mainland of the city.

  “You must be excited to back with the rest of us from Palmland,” Astel said as they sat in the boat and a pair of rowers began to man their oars.

  Grange sat in silence, not sure how to answer.

  “We’ve got a cook who’s trained to cook foods the way we like,” Astel added, not aware of the meaning of Grange’s silence.

  “There are a couple of extra rooms on the second floor,” Astel told him. “You can have either one.”

  “How many floors are there?” Grange asked.

  “Four,” Astel replied. “The servants are on the third floor, we’re on the second, and the working rooms are on the first.”

  “Who’s on the fourth?” Grange asked.

  “No one – it’s too hot up there. It’s pretty warm on the third floor where the servants are, as it is. Stones, it’s hot everywhere, what am I saying?” Astel slapped his forehead and grinned, making Grange grin in return, putting a hole in his fog of self-pity.

  The rowers steered them into the docks along the mainland, and Astel handed them coins, then led Grange into the city, away from the smell of the rotting fish and garbage that collected along the wharves in the harbor. The pair walked straight into the city, along a street that rose steadily, then leveled off at a large, open square.

  “This way,” Astel led Grange along a dim side street with only a few lanterns lit, and they turned into the drive of a large white house. The front door opened as they approached, and a local butler welcomed Astel into the house.

  “This is our new member, Grange, the other wizard; he’s just appeared,” Astel introduced Grange. “This is Gats, who runs the household,” the boy turned to the other side of the introduction.

  “Thank you, young Astel,” Gats said. He held a candle high to illuminate the hallway. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Grange, and to know that you’re alive. The others have told a great many stories about the things you have done. I look forward to serving you.”

  “Thank you Gats,” Grange said. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

  “Will your luggage arrive tonight?” the man asked.

  “I may have a small bag delivered tomorrow, if I go back to the palace to get it,” Grange indicated.

  “I’m sure you’ll go back to the palace tomorrow or someday soon,” Astel said cheerfully.

  “Shall I show you the rooms available, or would you like to visit the kitchen for something to eat?” Gats inquired.

  “We just ate everything we wanted at the palace,” Grange answered.

  “I’m still a little hungry,” Astel countered. “I’ll go to the kitchen,” and he headed down the hall.

  “He’s still a growing boy,” Gats smiled, with a shake of his head. “Come with me, my lord,” he said to Grange, still holding the candle high, and he led the way up a broad set of stairs.

  “This is the second floor.” He said at the landing at the top. “We’ve got an empty room at the east end, and a nice room with a balcony at the west end,” he explained.

  “Let’s go look at the fourth floor,” Grange answered.

  Gats looked at him. “It’s empty and lonely and warm up there,” he warned.

  “I’d like to see it anyway,” Grange pressed.

  “As you wish,” Gats complied, and they climbed the next flight of stairs, a smaller, less formal structure, then paused as Gats collected his breath, before going up one more narrow flight of steep stairs up to a dusty hallway at the top of the building.

  The air was warm and stale at the top, and the walls were simple, whitewashed spaces interrupted by plain brown doors.

  "As you can see my lord, there's little to recommend this area," Gats said casually.

  "Let's just look," Grange resisted the implied invitation to return down the stairs. After his long hiatus at Waters Edge, he felt distant from the Palmland group, and he wanted to give himself some isolation if possible. "What does the east end offer?" he asked, and started in that direction, ahead of the candle.

  Gats followed as Grange walked the hall and opened a door to look in the room. The ceiling slanted under the rooflines on either side, and two sets of windows faced the east, towards the sunrise and the harbor. There was a hatch in the ceiling.

  "What's that?" Grange asked.

  "A roof access, my lord?" Gats guessed.

  There were only a pair of chairs and a table in one corner of the room, and a layer of dust everywhere.

  "Have y
ou seen enough, my lord?" Gats asked patiently.

  "Yes, Gats, this will do perfectly. Thank you, you're dismissed," Grange said.

  "My lord?" Gats asked in confusion, at a loss to comprehend what Grange was saying.

  "There's everything here I need. I'll spend the night here. Will breakfast be ready early, or later? Is there anything I can do to help in the morning?" Grange asked.

  "Help what, my lord?" Gats felt even more bewildered by the strange turn in the conversation.

  "The staff - if I can help the staff with anything in the morning, you'll let me know?" Grange clarified.

  "Well, yes, certainly my lord," Gats said. He stood in confusion momentarily. "l'll be going now, my lord," he concluded there was nothing else to say under the circumstances.

  "Thank you Gats, and good night," Grange watched the servant leave, pulling the door closed behind himself as he departed.

  Once the man was gone, Grange went to the windows and opened them, pulling the sashes up and inserting the pins into the frames to hold them open. The air outside was cooler, but barely entering the room. Grange thought speculatively, then walked over to the door, opened it, and strode down to the far end of the corridor. He opened the door to the empty room at the western end of the building, entered the room, then opened the windows that corresponded to his own, facing out the opposite end of the building.

  Within five seconds he felt a breeze begin to blow through the top floor, carrying the warm, stale interior air out the western windows, until the door to the west room slammed shut in the breeze.

  After he propped the door open with a wedge of wood from a decayed and abandoned desk in the room, Grange returned to his room, with the newly provided fourth floor breeze blowing gently in his face the entire length of the hallway. After he was in his room, he checked the sturdiness of the table. He pushed it, sat on it, and then moved it to the center of the room. Once he had it in place, he climbed up and stood upon it, then reached up and pressed the hatch to the roof upward.

  The hatch creaked open, and a new flow of air immediately rose through the opening, further cooling the room that Grange had chosen.

  Grange gripped the sides of the hatch and pulled himself upward, then swung his torso over, and climbed onto the roof. The air was cool, and a breeze blew nicely across the flat surface of the roof. Brilliant stars overhead drew his attention momentarily, and then he took a glance around the roof. Only a large water tank, presumably to supply the baths below, stood atop the flat surface.

  He began to stroll along the perimeter of the roof to the west end, glancing out across the landscape of neighboring buildings that surrounded the embassy structure. None were as tall as the roof where Grange stood, and he was able to see through the darkness to the blocks of buildings that extended in each direction.

  A few windows glowed with light, where some person kept a candle or lamp lit in a room, and even a moving shadow was occasionally visible as Grange’s eyes surveyed the night time city.

  He felt alone, and he felt some comfort at last, a sense of removal from the troubles of the day, his unease over the sudden transition from village life to Palmland wizard once again. The night time darkness was like a blanket spread over him, sheltering him from the emotions and troubles, and especially from the unhappy parting from Shaylee.

  Grange returned to the center of the roof, then undressed and lay down upon his clothing, with his arms crossed under his head. He stared up at the stars, and thought about Shaylee, and Grace, wondering why life had thrown so many complications at him.

  Just as his eyes began to grow heavy and close, he heard a faint noise rise through the roof hatch.

  “Grange?” he heard Grace’s voice call softly. “Are you up here Grange?” she asked, evidently standing in his eastern room below, causing her voice to reach him clearly.

  He lay still, holding his breath, and waited for the silence to stretch and grow. After five minutes without further evidence of the girl’s voice, he gave a deep sigh, and finally drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Grange woke up with a coating of dew upon him, the sun rising above the horizon, and a half dozen birds perched along the ridge of the hatch, chirping with one another as they looked down into the empty room below. Grange sat up and stretched; he looked around at the empty roof as the birds flew away. He pulled his damp clothes on, then climbed down into the fourth floor bedroom he had declared his own.

  He stood on the table and restored the ceiling hatch to its place, then climbed down and went to the windows in the room. The stuffiness and heat were gone from the top floor space, so the apprentice wizard closed the windows, left the room to go to the far end of the hall, and closed those windows as well.

  Downstairs he found that none of the Palmland party members were arisen, and the servants were taken aback by his appearance so early in the day.

  “My lord,” spoke the scullery maid he first stumbled upon as he left the large rooms in the front of the building and wandered into the working precincts in the back of the embassy building. “Is there a problem my lord? Can’t you sleep?”

  “Not when the sun’s rising in the sky like it is,” Grange grinned. “I’m awake and wondering what’s to do. Can I help you with anything?” he asked the woman.

  She looked at him with real concern in her eyes. She was just as confused as Gats was by the idea, he told himself. Grange had been expected to do his work while at Waters End village the previous several weeks, and had been expected to perform the early chores himself while an apprentice in Brieed’s quarters, and had certainly worked all his life before that. The notion of not having productive work to do was alien to him, in contrast to what the household staff of the embassy expected of him.

  “I think I’ll go take a walk around the neighborhood. Is there an armory nearby where I can practice using my sword, or other weapons, or fighting?” Grange decided to temporarily give up on pursuing domestic activity, and asked the woman about other opportunities he might consider for how he could occupy himself in the morning.

  “I don’t know of such things, I’m sure, my lord,” the woman apologized, and even bobbed her head.

  “Well, thank you then, and have a good morning,” Grange gave up, and left the woman. He exited the embassy and began to stroll in search of some time-consuming activity. A short walk down the street he came back to the square he and Astel had passed the night before. A small number of vendors were present with wagons and tables, selling basic foodstuffs for the local residents.

  “Good gods, you’re a pale one, aren’t you?” said the first vendor he walked past.

  Grange stopped to talk to the man, who was selling freshly caught fish on the table in front of his stool.

  “I heard the foreigners were fair-skinned, but I hadn’t imagined anyone as light as you,” the man said conversationally. “Is your skin thinner than ours?”

  “My skin’s lighter than all the others foreigners,” Grange answered. “The others from Palmland have a skin color closer to the people of Kilau. I come from a different place than they do.

  “How was the fishing today? Is this a good catch?” he asked.

  “This is good. Look at these ale fish here,” he pointed to an untidy row of portly-looking carcasses that were on the front of the table. “These’ll serve as a nice supper for someone. The moon was dark and the fish were biting this morning, sure enough.”

  “The moon was dark, wasn’t it?” Grange agreed. “I looked up at the stars last night, and there wasn’t any moonlight to interfere at all.

  “Do you know if there’s an armory in the area, a place I could practice sword play, or archery, or do other work with weapons?” Grange asked the man.

  “There’s a boxing ring down the street,” the man said in a lowered, confidential voice. “You can see some good fights there after sundown, if the police aren’t on patrol,” he hinted at the dubious legality of the site. “They’ll take your bets, and the fights seem t
o be on the up-and-up,” he advised.

  Grange thanked the man and moved on down the row of vendors who sold a variety of goods, talking to several, answering repeated questions about his unusual appearance, and finally learning of a place where local people practiced sports and weaponry. He returned to the embassy two hours later, as the sun was gaining elevation and the temperatures were starting to rise.

  Breakfast foods were being placed on the table, though the staff of the house was still surprised by Grange’s re-appearance.

  “There was a man at the marketplace this morning who had ale fish this morning,” Grange said conversationally as he sat down and dipped his bread in honey to begin eating breakfast.

  “Were they good looking, fresh fish?” asked one of the kitchen workers who was placing a rasher of bacon in front of him.

  “He said they were,” Grange answered. He thought about the fish he had seen caught and eaten daily at his previous home in Waters Edge; these had appeared comparable to those tasty catches. “They looked good to me.”

  “Does he still have any?” the woman asked.

  “It’s hard to say. Business was picking up,” Grange estimated. “I’d guess he sold out.”

  “That’s too bad. We should have snapped up some of those,” the woman said, then left the dining room to return to the kitchen.

  Grange finished his meal as he heard the sounds of stirring overhead. “You’ll have some company down here soon,” a man mentioned as he passed through while carrying pails of milk into the embassy. “It’s about time for the rest of your lot to put in an appearance.”

  Grange stood up, then left the embassy. He felt a curious desire to remain apart from the others, particularly Grace, and so he went in pursuit of the armory he had learned of in the marketplace earlier.

  The armory was a small one, used by local residents of the low nobility and the middle classes. Grange’s appearance was an astonishing event for the few local men and handful of women who were engaged in desultory efforts as they practiced jousting with spears or fencing with swords. Grange watched the work in the armory take place as a man approached hm.