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

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “No, really, with the rain falling, I don’t need to leave,” Hope protested. “But I’m sure you want to go about your duties?”

  “No, I’m not in a hurry,” he answered, and so they remained and chatted for another hour, until the rain shower passed and the sun began to shine through the thinning clouds.

  “I suppose I should go,” she said after a momentary lag in the conversation.

  “You’ve already stayed long enough to move the odds, I’m sure,” Grange grinned.

  “You know about that too?” Hope asked him, looking slyly sideways at him. “It makes me mad. Some of the girls’ feelings really get hurt when the odds move against them.”

  “I haven’t placed any bets personally,” Grange laughed.

  Hope laughed loudly.

  “But if you did, who would you bet on?” she teased.

  “I would still bet on you,” he told her, with a serious expression.

  “Oh Grange, if things were different, if I knew you were going to stay with us,” she began.

  “If things were different, if there were more time, if I wasn’t forced to make a choice that isn’t meant to be forced,” he agreed with her unspoken conclusion.

  “But I appreciate you staying to talk with me this afternoon,” he shifted the focus.

  “Did you have friends in your old life?” Hope asked, as they began to descend the steps.

  “I did,” Grange said, thinking of Garrel and the others he had known in Fortune, as well as the groups of acquaintances he had gathered in Palmland and Kilau.

  “I’m glad,” Hope said. “I wish you had friends here too.”

  “I’ve got a couple,” he smiled.

  “Well, here’s the happy couple,” Jenniline greeted them as they stepped down to her floor.

  “Maybe not a couple,” Grange gently corrected.

  “Well, you need a bride; I thought you said she was the obvious choice; and here the two of you are smiling at one another after the longest interview you gave to any of the princesses,” Jenniline defended her comment. “It seems like she should be your obvious choice.

  “And she seems to like you. You do like him, don’t you Hope? You’re the one who came to me and set up the plan to rescue him from the dungeon,” Jenniline pointed out.

  “Jenniline, it’s not your choice,” Hope said firmly. “Thank you for the visit,” she said with formality to Grange, then she stepped out of his quarters and descended the tower steps.

  Grange gave Jenniline a sour face.

  “She likes you,” his counselor told him.

  “I would be a phony if I took her hand to make her my wife, then abandoned her when all this is over,” he said. “She’s too good for me to want to do that to her.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he practically wailed.

  “Do what you’ve done so far!” Jenniline spoke excitedly, as if she had discovered a great solution.

  “What?” Grange’s eyebrows came together in puzzlement.

  “Just keep stalling; instead of announcing your choice at your presentation to the court, announce it after you return from seeing the Bloomingians,” Jenniline said.

  “That doesn’t solve the problem – it just delays it,” Grange protested.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Jenniline asked in exasperation.

  “Well, no,” Grange said. “I guess it is better than nothing. I’m afraid the court will be upset.”

  “So what?” Jenniline snapped. “You’re the Champion of the gods. What you say will matter, not what they say.”

  Grange stood still and shook his head. “I suppose you’re right,” he concluded.

  “It’s the best we’ve got, as long as you want to be nice. If you were willing to be ruthless and just pick someone, the problem would be solved,” Jenniline reminded him.

  Grange returned to the roof, and looked up at the sky, where the clouds were vanishing to the east. The moon might have risen over there already, he concluded, but until it rose high or the clouds traveled further away, there was no way to communicate with Brieed.

  He picked his wand off his hip and resumed storing power in it absentmindedly, as he sat and thought about Hope.

  She was lovely. He had observed that from the first moment he’d seen her held as a captive. There was no mystery about the motives of the gang of men and boys who were infatuated with her.

  And she was a good person – too good for him to ever let himself hurt her. He wouldn’t choose her. But he couldn’t erase the thought of her from his mind; memories of different expressions, especially her smile, plagued him.

  “Grange, this is Brieed. I hope you can hear me,” the master wizard’s voice spoke to him, coming through the clouds that still hid the rising moon.

  “I have been reading old scrolls while riding in the wagon that is carrying us away from Palmland. There is a mention of the elemental jewels, who ‘can return when called by the great Campeaodeuses’,” Brieed quoted. “I think that you may be the Campeaodeuses, whatever that means.

  “There’s no explanation of how the jewels are called though,” Brieed told Grange.

  “We have recalled Grace from Kilau; they’ve sent a boat to pick her up and carry her directly to the western stronghold we’re headed towards,” Brieed informed him.

  “I’ll keep looking at scrolls; if I find more about the jewels, I’ll send you a message. In the meantime, try not to make any deities mad at you,” the wizard said farewell.

  The moon was rising above the clouds as Brieed’s words ended, and Grange could see that it was very nearly full. That night would not see it be at its fullest, a complete circle of light in the evening sky; but the following night it was sure to be full. That would be the night he would season his wand, make it truly his own, and bring it into its destiny as a storeplace and conveyor of great energy.

  Grange watched and prodded the flow of energy into his wand, until he thought it was full, then he set it aside and began to examine the jewel from his sword hilt, Ariana. He closed his eyes, began to subject the jewel to the energy, and thought about Ariana as he had known her – confident, capable, effective. She had seemed inhuman in that sense, though Grange hadn’t realized it at the time. She had demonstrated a human side too; she had not brooked any romance between the two of them, but she had felt affection for him, he was sure. She had shown weakness – he remembered the times she had asked to have her back massaged, after a grueling work out, among other examples.

  You remember me, a soft voice whispered warmly.

  Grange’s eyes flew open, and he looked around.

  There was no one else present on the roof.

  “Jenniline?” he asked. He stood and walked to the stair case, but saw no one there.

  The sun was setting, and he realized he felt hungry. He went downstairs. “Is Jenniline here?” he asked Listrid.

  “She’s gone to eat her meal,” the servant replied.

  Grange found a large gathering around Jenniline’s seat at the table, but the group rapidly dispersed when he entered the hall. She waved Grange over, and he took a spot at her newly emptied table.

  “You have shaken up the odds on the betting for your bride,” Jenniline grinned. “You spent a long time with Hope, and suddenly everyone is remembering that the two of you were companions when you rescued her from the Bloomingians.

  “The odds are shifting dramatically away from me towards Hope now, and they’re all in a frenzy to know what’s to do,” she explained.

  “Did you tell them the decision is going to be delayed?” Grange asked.

  “Heavens above, no!” Jenniline answered. She grew momentarily silent as a servant brought a plate of food for Grange.

  They ate their meal peacefully after that, until they were ready to leave.

  “I’m going to play music tonight,” Grange told Jenniline. “And tomorrow night will be the full moon. Will you be ready for the ceremony?”

  “Oh, already?” Jennili
ne looked uneasy.

  “If you’d rather not do it, I can request the participation of a different princess, as long as she’s, you know,” Grange’s voice faded away.

  “No, I’ll do it,” Jenniline’s voice recovered its strength. “I was just surprised. I hadn’t thought about it. I’ll be ready. Just give me that list of things we need.”

  Grange agreed, then he was away, leaving to get his flute and then to go out into the city. A flock of courtiers descended upon Jenniline as soon as he left, he observed, making him grin.

  He retrieved his flute, and headed to the portside section of town, to an outdoor festival held in a square, near the docks. It was a reminder of the many outdoor festivals he had played in while in Palmland.

  “We’ve missed you,” Carrel, the mandolin player told him. “With a crowd this size,” he gestured to the people who were milling about the square, “we can’t have enough music to please everyone.”

  “You may have to play a couple of solo numbers while we take breaks, and then you can have your breaks. The folks down here near the docks don’t take kindly to not having continuous music,” Leeds, the singer explained.

  “They threw fish at us the last time we took a break,” Carral explained.

  “We haven’t taken a break since then,” Leeds asserted.

  “No breaks – got it!” Grange affirmed, and then began practicing and tuning before the band began their set.

  The crowd was an energetic one, demanding tunes that were lively and festive. Grange subtly enhanced the reach of the music with his energy to make sure that the back of the crowd could hear clearly, and he watched the men and women dance continually, when they weren’t eating or drinking, or occasionally slipping away into the darkness.

  The crowd was starting to thin out much later in the evening, as Grange was beginning to believe that the band might soon finish their performance for the night, when a new influx of attendees arrived.

  “Here comes your palace crowd,” Carrel said to Grange. Sure enough, Grange recognized a number of the younger members of the court arrive on the dance floor.

  They waved to him and called out to him as they enjoyed themselves late into the night. There were none of the princesses in the group, though Grange recognized Jungar, the frequent companion of Prince Inge, with a large group of women who sat and talked and danced together.

  He walked them back to the palace after the musical set ended at midnight, through streets that were brightly lit by the nearly full moon high overhead.

  “Who will you choose for your queen?” Jungar asked. “You must know by now!” she wheedled him to admit his choice.

  “I’m only thinking through one challenge at a time, and preparing my wand tomorrow night is the next big challenge,” he told her, and all the wide open ears that listened intently. They were going to be startled by his postponement, he was sure.

  He crept up into his tower without awakening anyone, then gladly laid down to sleep upon the roof top, as he always did. His mind thought about the wand, and it thought about Jenniline, and it thought about Ariana, just before he fell asleep on his last day without a wand.

  Chapter 24

  Grange was relieved when he opened his eyes in the morning, and the sky overhead was blue, without clouds. The promise of clear skies in the evening, when he would bring his wand to its maturity, relieved the nagging fear he had felt that clouds would delay the wand ceremony until the following month.

  He sent Geric to pick up breakfast, and settled in to begin to exercise the power, when Brieed’s voice emerged in the air.

  "Grange, you must be ready to treat your wand under the full moon tonight. I wish I was there to lead you, and to congratulate you, but since I’m not, I want to remind you how the ceremony must proceed. You and the woman who participates must be dressed in red and standing together, in the center of a circle of fire.

  “The fire may just be a ring of wood laid in a circle, or a trench filled with oil, or whatever you choose, but the fire should be fueled well enough to last for about 30 minutes, but not fueled so well it bakes you while you stand in the middle!

  “You should have a sprig of evergreen. I prefer juniper, but any will do,” Brieed told him. “When you are ready, you must slice your hand and the girl’s then clasp them together around the wand. Of course you know all of this from your first exercise with Grace, I’m sure.

  “You raise the wand and release the energy within it. Then you and the girl both kiss the evergreen together, while the energy is departing.

  “You must think only of the energy, and what it can do, with a special emphasis on the good things you want to accomplish,” Brieed continued to give the details of the process.

  “When you are finished,” he concluded just a few minutes later, “be sure to send a message to me. I’ll be in the mountains, fifty miles west of Palmland city, in a castle that has walls made of blue sandstone, at the head of a long, wide valley,” Brieed said.

  “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll ask for you in the morning. Good luck and best wishes, my protégé!” Brieed finished his communication.

  Grange was appreciative of the reminder about how the ceremony was supposed to proceed.

  Grange stayed in relative seclusion atop the tower throughout the day, asking Geric to deliver meals to him. He had previously given Jenniline the list of items needed for the wand ceremony, so that when nightfall came, he felt confident that everything was as prepared as possible. He alternately compressed more energy into his wand, focused more into the jewel, and tried to relax as the time seemed to pass slowly.

  Think of me, and me alone, as you heal the stone, a voice whispered.

  Grange was sure it was Ariana’s voice, the voice he knew so well, and had been separated from for so long. He did not see or sense her presence, and there was no answer when he called her name. But he obeyed the command, and he filled his time with memories of the elemental being while his energy filtered into the stone’s infinite empty spaces. It felt subtly different as his thoughts grew more focused and his memories grew clearer.

  Hours later, the time was at hand; he wore his red robe, and spent time rearranging the bundles of loose tinder, kindling, and fire wood that had been laboriously carried to the top of the tower. Within the center of the circle of the firewood he placed a table, and on the table were the evergreen sprig and the wine needed for the wand christening, as well as his knife, and on the floor sat several buckets of water.

  All other furniture had been lofted by Grange’s energy down to the floor below, leaving the wide circular surface of the tower free of all other items except those that were meant for the ceremony.

  Grange waited for Jenniline to arrive, his excitement mounting by the minute. The moon was far above the horizon, losing the reddish hue it had carried aloft, and the sun was just disappearing below the western horizon.

  Jenniline appeared when the stars began to emerge in the overhead sky. She was dressed in a red gown similar to Grange’s, except it was sleeveless, and belted with a sash.

  “I think I’m ready,” she spoke with a touch of nervousness in her voice.

  “Do you want a drink of wine, to relax?” Grange asked, motioning to the chalice of wine and bottle on the table in the center of the rooftop.

  “Yes, please,” Jenniline didn’t hesitate to reply.

  “I don’t know why I’m so nervous; I’ve seen you use this energy of yours many times. This isn’t really any different from that, is it?” she asked, as Grange walked over to the table and filled the chalice, then carried back to her.

  “It is different, in some ways,” Grange answered. “Mostly because there will be more energy used at once, and because you’ll be so close. But I’ll take care of you,” he said, feeling slightly uneasy as he recollected the effect his wand’s energy discharge had upon Shaylee and Grace, during the first ceremony for the wand, back in Kilau.

  Jenniline took a long draught of the wine. “Would you like
some?” she asked, running her fingertips lightly along her upper lip.

  “I’ll wait,” Grange told her, though he wished he could take a drink. He wanted to keep his head clear, in order to make sure that every step was completed correctly.

  “Come over here,” he took her by the hand and they walked to the center of the circular roof, then stood by the table.

  “I wonder how many people are watching the roof top?” Jenniline mused. “Everyone knows you’ve been waiting for this full moon. I’ll bet half the palace is looking out their windows, glancing up here.”

  “Let’s hope they are satisfied with the show,” Grange said weakly. He wasn’t sure what to expect. It was likely to be spectacular, though, he was sure.

  “If you’re ready, I need to cut your hand, so that your blood and mine touch the wand,” he told her.

  “I’ll try not to make it hurt much,” he said.

  “A cut on the hand is the last thing I’d call painful,” she said stoutly. Her eyes had a slightly glassy look, Grange thought.

  He held her hand in his, palm open, then put the knife blade across two inches, letting the flesh turn to a weeping red line. He released her hand, then cut his own, slightly longer, and slightly deeper, determined to show her that he had cut himself more than he had cut her.

  “This is where it begins. If you have any doubts or second thoughts, you can go now, and I’ll understand,” Grange told the princess. His eyes were averted from her as he looked down at the table and picked up the wand.

  Jenniline was silent for a long pause.

  “You won’t be quit of me that easily. I’ve come along with you this far, and it’s been an interesting ride. I think it’ll be worth seeing the journey through together,” she finally said. “Let’s go on.”

  Grange felt a mixture of both pleasure and pride, and regret. He was thankful that Jenniline had decided to carry the ceremony out, but he suspected that there would be some impact, some residue from whatever happened, that might leave Jenniline changed.