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

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Now leave my temple! Go pursue the duties you are charged with, and do not fail!” the goddess roared. She stooped and grabbed the front of his shirt with the slender fingers of one hand, and casually tossed him bodily towards the door, inflicting more pain upon him as he bounced along the stone floor.

  The goddess turned and walked back to the stone block from the ceiling, stood upon it, and was enveloped by another column of glowing fog and light. When the column lifted back up to the ceiling, Shaine was gone, and the sanctuary broke out into a welter of screams and shouts. Priests and acolytes went running towards the ceiling block and bowed on their knees around it, touching it as if it were a holy relic.

  Grange grunted as he rose, neglected by the other attendees at the temple, and he slowly hobbled back out into the street, completely disoriented by the displeasure the goddess had showered upon him. He had not anticipated that Shaine would favor his petition just because he was Acton’s Champion, but he had never expected there to be any particular recognition or consequences for his prayer, certainly none like what he had received.

  He dusted himself off, then began to slowly walk down the street, back towards the main square of the city. When he reached the busy open space he stepped over to the side and observed the people bustling among the merchants and the activities, engaging in their everyday lives. Acton’s temple was visible, just across the way, but Grange felt unwilling to go there – both his reception at Shaine’s temple and his previous experience with Hockis at Acton’s temple left him skeptical that he would find any satisfaction at that temple, even though he was supposed to be particularly and personally alled with the god.

  Ralax’s temple was visible on a corner, but Grange could not imagine any value in visiting the god of pleasure. Zephr’s temple was next to Ralax’s, but Grange found that his eyes turned towards Huem’s temple as the only other place he would choose to go to.

  He walked across the square and entered the building, where a sense of calmness and serenity pervaded the quiet antechamber. Inside the sanctuary Grange glanced around. When he had visited the temple the one time before, at night, he had seen little of the interior, but now, in daylight, he could see that it was clean, with straight simple lines of pews and columns and other evidence of an orderly plan. There were neat, small chapels symmetrically lining each side of the main hall, and Grange headed towards one of the openings to try to order his emotions and place his prayerful request.

  He sat down in the front row of the tiny chapel, and closed his eyes. At first, he simply relaxed; the temple of Huem seemed to invite serenity and calm, which seemed appropriate for the god of reason. He let his breathing slow down to a steady rhythm, then began to form his prayer for the protection of Palmland.

  “What troubles you, friend?” a voice asked from across the aisle in the tiny chapel, and Grange looked, then recognized the same priest he had spoken to on his previous visit to the temple.

  “My friends in Palmland are in some danger, I fear,” Grange answered. “They say that war is coming to Palmland, and I want my friends to be safe.”

  “And you cannot go there personally to help them, so you feel guilty?” the priest asked.

  “That’s true,” Grange acknowledged.

  “You are Acton’s champion,” the priest said. “I recognize you, not just from your visit the other night, but from seeing the great event on the stairs of the temple, when the god himself acknowledged you. That was a day to remember.

  “And so you feel compelled to remain here and carry out the duties Acton has given you, instead of going to aid your friends?”

  “I do; I must. It is so important, for everyone,” Grange admitted. “But the people in Palmland are going to suffer, and I could help them, especially my own friends there, like Garrel and Deana,” he mentioned the names of the young friends he had shared an apartment with in Palmland, while he also thought of Brieed, Bartar, Aubrey, even Lord Selebe and the nobleman’s sister Selene.

  “If you fight the battle you’re destined to fight with Acton, you will be fighting for them, won’t you?” the priest asked. “And,” he said, as Grange nodded, “once you win that battle, you’ll be able to return to Palmland to protect your friends?”

  “I don’t know,” Grange said doubtfully. “Acton has placed these conditions on me, about assuming the throne here, and reuniting the nation. It sounds like I may never be able to leave Southgar,” he moaned.

  “I have a vision that you are going to win the great battle, and you are going to fulfill Acton’s command without being captive to Southgar,” the priest said. “There is a way, and you will walk the path that leads you there. Do not worry.

  “And think about your friends, consider their needs, and look for the ways that you may send them assistance without being personally present. I believe you will find the way to do something for them, something that will feel like your own personal ability, even from here,” the words of the priest were calm and gentle, soothing.

  “You truly think these things?” Grange turned to look at the priest.

  “I have a gift of foresight,” the man said. “I am convinced that there are answers that will solve your problems,” he said.

  “Now, you need to move along. You are an important and busy young man, with many responsibilities,” the priest rose from his seat. “Please always come to visit our humble temple when you are troubled. We welcome all souls at all times,” he said.

  Grange stood up too, and followed the priest out of the alcove.

  “What is your name, father?” Grange asked. “I appreciate your guidance.”

  “We do not have personal names here in the temple,” the priest smiled. “We search for reason and solution, and do not attach personal identities to the answers we find.” He patted Grange’s arm, then walked towards the front of the sanctuary.

  Grange turned and walked out of the building, back into the bustle of traffic in the public square, jarred by his departure from the serenity of Huem’s temple.

  He felt hungry, ready for lunch, and so he decided to go to the tavern, and at least eat a meal if he could not find out about the location of the musicians he sought. He walked through the city and arrived at the tavern within five minutes.

  The interior was bustling with patrons, but to his delight, Grange heard the sound of the mandolin, and saw the same pair of musicians performing who he had watched the night before. He could find no open seat in the room where the entertainment was underway, so he stood in the back of the room and leaned against the wall, listening to the music, until there was time for a break.

  The singer had seen him, and nodded as the pair left the stage.

  “Are you back already? The food isn’t that good here,” the man squinted at him.

  “I brought my flute,” Grange replied, pulling the instrument out of his pocket.

  “Alright, come up and give us a sample,” the mandolin player said, turning around to return to the stage. “Can you play the song you picked out on my instrument last night?”

  Grange nodded his head, and the three of them stepped up onto the stage, then took positions. The mandolin started, and Grange began to play, melding his notes into the melody as the singer began to croon the lyrics. The lunch audience continued to eat, and come and go, as the song went on, but a smattering of applause was released when the song ended, and the trio left the stage again.

  “It was a nice sound,” the mandolin player told him.

  “It was,” the singer agreed. “I wouldn’t mind trying it again. Would you want to play with us of an evening? We wouldn’t pay much, but we’d enjoy the fellowship, and having a nobleman would be a different type of group – maybe the crowds wouldn’t throw so many rotten fruits at us, eh?” the man joked.

  Grange agreed to join them the following night, pending the schedule Jenniline had worked out for him, then walked back to the palace. He was still hungry when he arrived, not having eaten at the tavern, so he went to the dining hal
l and sat down alone at one end of a table. He only sat for a pair of minutes before Hope and her sister Paile, accompanied by a pair of suitors, Kiergar and Remar, came and joined him.

  “Jenniline is making appointments for you to interview princesses!” Hope exclaimed as she took the seat beside him.

  “Why are you even wasting everyone’s time with that?” Paile asked. “You’re going to marry her, aren’t you? The two of you are living together already, up in your tower.”

  “Can you imagine me married to Jenniline?” Grange laughed. “It’ll take someone better than me to match up to what she’s looking for, I’m sure.”

  “But Acton said that you would be the king someday!” Kiergar exclaimed. “What more is there?”

  “That’s for others to decide,” Grange answered. “I’m just going to do what Jenniline tells me to.” He started eating.

  “What did you do to Brady today?” Remar asked. “Everybody says things, but they all have the story mixed up: some say you fought him with swords, some say you used magic on him, some say you used magic on yourself!”

  “I did some of all three,” Grange answered. “Probably fighting swords was the least we did.”

  “And was Halsten really there to watch it?” Hope asked.

  “He was there,” Grange agreed.

  “He doesn’t let folks get away with fighting in the meal hall. He says it’s the one place we’ve got to be able to feel safe,” Remar pointed out.

  “We didn’t fight for very long,” Grange replied. “Halsten did tell us to stop.”

  “There you are,” Jenniline’s voice carried across the hall. “We need to go to practice at the armory, if you’ll all excuse us,” she walked up to the table and stood over Grange’ shoulder.

  “What did you do this morning?” she asked.

  “I got yelled at by Shaine,” Grange said with a straight face.

  “What do you mean?” Hope asked.

  “I mean,” Grange stood up, “I went to her temple to pray, and she didn’t like my prayer, so she came into the temple and slapped me. Left my ribs feeling a little sore,” he added, realizing that he could heal himself through the energy, to reduce the dull ache in his ribcage.

  Paile turned a paler shade at the story. “Is that true – a goddess punished you?”

  “It’s true,” Grange assured the princess. “I gave her the chance to do what she does so well.

  “Thank you for sitting with me,” he told the group. “Lead me to my appointment,” he said to Jenniline.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Paile said in a small voice.

  Grange smiled at her uncertainly, as he followed Jenniline away.

  “She is your princess appointment tomorrow,” Jenniline said. “I’m going to set up one every other day or so, to draw them out and use as much time as we can, since that seems to be your preference.”

  Grange nodded his head in agreement.

  “So you met a goddess, in real life?” she asked.

  Grange nodded his head, not eager to talk further about the encounter. “I also told the musicians at the tavern that I’d play music with them tomorrow night. Does that fit your schedule?” he asked.

  She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s true. I’d enjoy it,” he assured her, pleading perhaps.

  “And I think you ought to have a servant sleep in our tower quarters as well,” he added.

  Her shoulders shrugged as she looked at him.

  “I think we maybe need a chaperone or something,” Grange explained. “For both our sakes.”

  “I doubt I can get a sober servant to agree to stay in that den of magical horrors,” she protested.

  Grange stopped, and muttered his request to the energy to heal his ribcage. He saw the subtle glow of the energy flash through his tunic, and he immediately felt better. He also felt inspired.

  “Are there any servants who are injured or crippled or ill? If I could heal them, would they be willing to stay with us in return?” he asked.

  “There must be some like that,” Jenniline answered. “But I don’t know if they’re crazy enough to stay in the tower once they’re healthy enough to leave the place.”

  “Here we are,” she stopped at the entrance to the armory. “You’re going to go in there and practice until you can’t do any more,” she told him. She opened the door and held it for him.

  “Are you coming in?” he asked.

  “No,” she said tartly. “I’m apparently going to go get a chaperone from his or her death bed. I’ll be back when that’s done. You just keep practicing.”

  Grange went in intent on practicing staff work instead of swords, and found that moments after he went to the practice staves, he faced a number of prospective challengers. He won every match, surprising himself with the quickness of his reactions, until he started facing two opponents at the same time, and the victory streak ended. No one taunted him about being a Bloomingian or thief, he noted with satisfaction.

  Jenniline came to join in the practices after two hours, spending time working on her sword work before she joined a partner to battle Grange to a draw with the staves.

  “I’ve got a pair of servants waiting for you to heal them,” she told him as they both stood on the practice pad, breathing heavily.

  “Let’s go take care of them, after we clean up,” Grange suggested.

  Several minutes later they were in an infirmary, and Grange thought about the hospitals he had visited with Grace in Palmland and Kilau, when they had healed the sick and infirm with their musical talent. The lines of beds in the ward were the same, and the sense of pain and suffering was similar.

  “Energy, I ask you to please come and descend upon all the people here, to heal them of their wounds and pain,” he asked as he stood at the entry to the ward. Grange immediately felt the power comply, and he felt it test his control with the volume of energy that began to flow.

  He watched as the energy that he alone could see began to gather around the patients in their beds, sometime settling upon a person’s entire body, other times only surrounding a particular limb. Some of the treatments glowed with great brightness, while others were gentler, and some were simple, quick flashes, while others were lingering glows that pulsed and seemed to move about on the patients’ bodies. Calling upon so much of the energy at one time felt taxing

  The room filled with startled cries, and whoops of joy, as well as shouted prayers of thanks.

  “Did you heal everyone?” Jenniline asked in astonishment. People were sitting up, or rising from their beds.

  “I did,” Grange answered. “It seemed like the easiest thing to do.”

  “When we were in the wilderness, on our way back from Yellow Springs, when the demons made Burr and Athel go mad, could you have used your powers to save Trensen’s life?” she asked him, looking at him intently.

  “I don’t know,” he faltered, as healthy patients began to approach him, patting his shoulder and shaking his hand while he talked to the princess. “I think so,” he equivocated, thinking of how he had healed Jadie in the Kilau Melee, though he had had the jewels with him at that time to help suggest the action.

  “I wasn’t as strong in the power then as I am now, since Acton healed me,” he tried to ease the pain he saw in her eyes as she remembered her lost guard. “And I didn’t know; I just didn’t know who I was or what I could do,” he pointed out.

  “I know,” she sighed sorrowfully. She shook her head to dismiss the memories of the guard she had lost. “Let’s find a more cheerful topic to discuss; let’s go meet our new companions.”

  Chapter 18

  Jenniline and Grange walked halfway down the aisle between the rows of beds, and stopped next to a bed where an elderly woman was sitting up, bright-eyed.

  “I don’t know how you did that, but you made me feel twenty years younger!” she laughed. “When the princess offered healing for service, I thought it was surely some type of joke.”

&nb
sp; “This is Listrid,” Jenniline introduced. “And this is Grange,” she also introduced. “You’ll be serving in his household.”

  “We need to go meet the other member of our staff,” she stepped down the aisle and indicated that the others should follow her.

  They stopped in front of another bed, where a burly man with a bright pink path of skin on his arm was gently prodding it with a finger. “Just like that, the burns are gone and there’s new skin,” he said in wonder. “I never saw the like of it.

  “You did this?” he looked at Grange as he asked.

  “I did,” Grange agreed. “You look very,” he paused, searching for a word, “muscular.”

  “I worked in a blacksmith’s shop for ten years,” the man answered. “Until a red hot horse shoe slipped from the tongs and landed on my arm while I was holding the bellows.

  “My flesh was blackened to the bone, and I thought it was going to have to come off; I never thought I’d be able to use the limb again.

  I answered the pretty young princess politely when she asked if I’d serve the man who could heal me, but I never expected anyone would really heal me,” the smith admitted.

  “I’ll follow you anywhere and do anything you ask,” the man pledged, his eyes shining with gratitude.

  “Will you hold Jenniline back when she’s mad at me, so she doesn’t punish me?” Grange asked impishly.

  “Ouch!” he exclaimed a moment later as the princess obligingly punched his shoulder.

  “I won’t do stupid things, however,” the man admitted.

  “Such a smart man, our Geric. Maybe with three of us with common sense, we can keep you out of trouble. Especially if you stop provoking the gods,” Jenniline told Grange. “And everyone else,” she added.

  “I didn’t make Inge mad last night,” Grange protested.

  “Do either of you have any belongings we can carry for you?” he asked the two new members of his household.

  When they both shook their heads, Jenniline led the way out of the now-deserted ward, and they walked back towards the tower where the two were about to take up residence.