The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) (28 page)

Brieed held the wand in both hands then raised it above his head as he quietly chanted a short formula.  The wand glowed momentarily, then returned to its previous state – a dark wooden wand with grainy streaks that circled around it.

“This will open the door one time.  Use it only for that,” the wizard handed the tool to Grange, who held it uncertainly.

“How will I make it work?” Grange asked.

“Just point it at the target when you’re ready, then command it to release its power,” Brieed said nonchalantly.

Grange took the wand, and held it in his hands for a moment.  He felt the texture of the wood grain, and he tried to feel the energy, to find heat or vibrancy, or some indication of the power that was stored within.  There was nothing; it was simply a piece of wood, as far as he could tell.

He tucked it into the band of his pants.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I’ll be back.”

“If you want to go find your musician friends, you may do that as well.  I’ll not expect you back here until tonight,” Brieed said.  “But tomorrow, we’ll start your training in earnest, so go enjoy yourself.”

Grange grinned in pleasure.  He was going to have something like freedom, the ability for several precious hours to make his own decisions and control his own movements.  It was something he hadn’t truly had since he’d been apprehended in Fortune; in the months since then, he’d been under the control of the guards at the canal site, or under the disciplined eye of Ariana.

He turned and left the office, went back to his room, and picked up his sword and flute.  Feeling armed and ready, he headed down the hall towards the stairs.

“I need a hand with this.  Come here,” he heard Grace’s voice call out.

“I can’t – I have to run an errand for the wizard,” he replied back over his shoulder, and he hurriedly pressed the stairway door open as he heard an indistinguishable sputtering behind him.  He ran down the stairs and out the door of the building, then stopped and took a deep breath.  He was free – the air even tasted and smelled and felt better!

“Which way to the closest gate out of the palace grounds?” he asked a servant who was carrying a load of linens along the walkway.

“Straight through that way to the red brick smokehouse, then go left,” the man said.

Grange trotted in the direction suggested, eager to avoid any possible recall.  He found the smokehouse – both by sight and aroma – then turned left, and saw that the pathway ahead widened out into a fully paved road beyond the next set of buildings, a promising sight.

He trotted in the direction of the exit, came to the intersection with the road, and proceeded on for a quarter of a mile, where he had to stop.

He had to stop.  The point was an intersection.  The gate was visible just a hundred yards away, but a pair of roads inside the palace grounds came together at that point.  And on one roadway, one that was smoothly paved with closely fitted granite stones, the most smooth and durable road that Grange had ever seen, a grand procession of armed and gorgeously uniformed guards were leading a carriage that followed a solitary rider on a grand white horse.

The front of the procession was just starting to pass Grange, on its way out of the palace grounds, and several servants and others along the road were standing respectfully still, their heads bowed.

“Bow your head – it’s the king,” one of them hissed to Grange.

A pair of the horsemen were giving him a hard, unfriendly stare, he realized, and he belatedly put his head down, observing the passing shadows and listening to the crisp sounds of the shod horses’ hooves clattering across the paving stones.  The wheels of the carriage rattled closer, and he heard a perfunctory cheer rise from those around him as the king’s white stallion rode by, a cheer that he joined in.

“There can’t really be a war; I don’t know why he is taking this so seriously,” one bystander said to another as the sovereign passed and the trailing cavalry riders rode at the end of the procession.  The lead riders were already exiting through the open gates, riding into the city neighborhood beyond the palace wall.

The sounds of the traveling royals faded away, and Grange resumed his journey, passing through the gates, and into the city.  He stopped at a corner shop to ask for directions, then headed across the city towards his former apartment’s location.

A half hour later he was on the walk in front of his apartment, in front of the lady with the sewing store, who greeted him with a smile.  “We haven’t seen you and your lady friend in three days!  Welcome back, young sir,” the woman told him.  “There was talk that you’d be moving out.”

Grange thanked her with a wan smile as he walked by.  He was going to miss the friendliness of the neighborhood, which he was exchanging for the reserved confinement of the palace.  He climbed the stairs, opened his apartment door, and found Deana alone in the apartment.

Grange! Grange,” she said, then flew across the room to squeeze him with a hug.

“We didn’t know what happened to you after that strange concert at the mansion,” she told him.  “We heard the story about the drugged drinks and the robbers, and you going to the hospital.  But you don’t look injured at all.”

He released his hold on her, astonished at the realization that he had miraculously healed overnight.  “I guess it was the wizard,” he said, though his memory grasped for another explanation, something that he thought was sitting just outside of his consciousness.

“Where’s Ariana?  Will she be here soon?” Deana asked.

It was the question that he knew he was going to have to answer.

“She left me,” he said hesitantly.

“What?  That’s not possible!  She was so devoted to you – she had changed from who she was back in the village, become strange – but she absolutely doted on you, always wondering how you were doing and where you were,” Deana said insistently.

“She said we had gone as far as we could together,” Grange replied.  “I miss her,” he added softly.

I miss you too
, he heard the jewel’s voice.

Leave him be; you’re still one of us, still with us, still ready to help him,
another jewel replied.

“That’s unbelievable – and her loss!” Deana said.  “Well, welcome home.  Come in and relax.  I’m so glad you’re back.  Garrel will be delighted.  A person from the palace came by yesterday and tried to tell us that you were leaving, but Garrel kicked him out!” she laughed.

“I am leaving,” he said heavily.  “The wizard has moved me into his part of the palace.  I came by to give you this money, so that you can afford the rent here,” he handed over the leather pouch.

She accepted the money with a dazed look on her face.  “You’re really moving into the palace?  You and Ariana are both leaving us?

“I always thought that you were going to be married someday, just like we were,” Deana’s eyes were filling with tears.  “I’ll be lonely without you here.”

Grange sat down in a chair at the table, as Deana sat down too, and he listened to her talk about the hopes she had for the future of the friends together in the city.

“Will you be able to come visit us?” she asked after her rambling conversation wore down.

“I should be able to.  And I still get to leave the palace to play with Guy’s band, if he’ll still have me,” Grange added.

“Of course he’ll have you; all the girls swooned over you,” Deana smiled at him.  “And your music is wonderful.”

“I’m glad we’ll be able to see you,” she said.

Grange stood up.  “I need to go find Guy to see if I can still play.

“I’ll see you soon, I hope,” he gave the girl from the mountain village a parting hug.  “Tell Garrel I missed seeing him.”

“Someone will come by to gather my things, I imagine,” he added, then left the apartment.

He hoped they would come to see him play with Guy.  Garrel was the closest thing he had to a family member; his friend was the only person who was tied to his old life in Fortune and his new life in Palmland.  Garrel had been the person he had listened to before Ariana had taken over, he realized, and he felt a renewed sense of loneliness from the loss of his ties to both advisors.

He strolled through the town to Guy’s studio, where he was admitted to see the band master as he practiced.

“What did the bird leave on the sill today?” Guy asked.  “Where have you been?”

“I went to the palace, and the wizard asked me to live in his compound,” Grange said.

“You’re the personal musician to the palace wizard?” Guy asked in astonishment.

“I, yes,” Grange decided to accept Guy’s interpretation as the story he would share with the band.  It would be easier to explain than to say he was an apprentice wizard, he decided.

“Are you leaving the band then?” Guy asked.

“I asked the wizard if I could continue to play with your band, and he said I could,” Grange explained.

“When can you join us?  Will you be able to play every night?” Guy asked skeptically.

“I can play again tonight.  I may not play every night, but I will play as many as I’m allowed,” Grange pushed to be accepted back into the band.

“Very well, we’ll see what you can do.  You won’t be paid for days you don’t play, and if you miss too many, I’ll have to let you go.

“We’re playing tonight at the Temple of Acton,” Guy said.

“The god of war?  Is Palmland going to go to war with someone?” Grange asked, remembering the conversation from earlier, at the palace.

“Skote is making belligerent noises, but we’re mostly surrounded by wilderness. The only country we have an actual border with is Reapose, and I don’t think we’ll fight with them,” Guy dismissed the question.  “It’s just the place we’re going to perform.  We’ll play a couple of martial marches at the beginning to satisfy the temple, then we’ll make the crowd happy.

“They’ll be glad to hear your flute again,” he admitted.

Grange thanked him, then left the studio and started walking through the city.  It was only mid-afternoon, and he was completely free from any duties, other than playing music that night.

He felt aimless, he realized.  He wanted to do something productive, something that would satisfy Ariana that he was a responsible person now.

That meant either practicing swimming, or practicing his sword work, he concluded.  And he suddenly felt emboldened to try to practice in the palace armory.  He’d see if there were any repercussions from his scuffle with Cale in the morning, and he’d find out how good he was compared to the standards of the palace forces; he wasn’t going to judge them by Cale’s failure alone.

His pass card from Brieed provided easy and immediate entrance to the palace grounds, and a request for directions sent him to the armory.

The armory was a large, limestone building, with columns and adornments on its exterior that made it look more like a temple than a place of weapon storage and battle practice.  As soon as he walked inside though, Grange smelled the familiar odors of countless hours of men and women working and sweating in endless battle – sweat and blood were the natural elements of the building, he could tell.

Grange saw a man at a desk and walked over, presenting the card from Brieed to demonstrate his right to be in the building.

“I’d like to start practicing here,” he told the man, who looked up wordlessly, expecting some command or request.

The man squinted one eye.

“Practice what?  Magic?” the low-ranking officer asked.

“Sword work,” Grange answered.  He patted the weapon on his hip.

“A wizard?  Swords?  That doesn’t make any sense,” the man objected.

“Here now lieutenant, I’ll handle this,” a voice called from behind Grange.

Both Grange and the officer at the desk turned to see a slightly bow-legged man striding towards them.  The face was familiar, and after a moment’s recollection, Grange gasped.

“This morning,” he snapped his fingers at the man.

“That’s’ right – I saved your backside this morning.  Not that I have any love for you, but I believe in honorable behavior.  I’ll tell you, Cale has been demoted from the cavalry for his tussle with you this morning, and I don’t blame you at all,” the man was garrulous.

He was built relatively short, and slightly stocky, almost pudgy.  There was something about him that Grange sensed he was missing, but the answer remained unknown.

“It’s good to see you in here for practice work.  That impresses me.  Come with me and we’ll give you a few tests to see what we need to work on,” the new arrival said.

“He’s yours to play with Brielle,” the officer at the desk announced.

“Brielle?” Grange repeated.  It was a woman’s name, at least in Fortune it was.

The man bristled instantly.  “That’s my name; want to make something of it?” he asked

“No,” Grange replied hastily.  “I’m just not from around here, so I don’t know the names folks use in Palmland.  I don’t know all the music here either,” he lifted his flute to demonstrate his musical interest.

“I’m not asking you to play music.  Do you want to practice weapons or not?” Brielle asked.

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Grange replied.