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

  Grange let his fingers touch the spot on his cheek where her lips had touched him, and he smiled.

  Later that day Masky was back to see him. “There were four princesses here! You should have seen them! And one of them disappeared for a while. No one knows where she went.”

  “Did you have to kiss their feet?” Grange asked innocently.

  “No!” the boy said indignantly. “Cook was making that story up!”

  Grange stayed in his small room, and healed further. Two days later, he began to covertly leave the room, awakening in the early morning, and walking through the garden to re-accustom his legs to carrying him about. Two days after that, he had another visitor.

  There was a knock on the door in the middle of the day. Grange was bored with his confinement, as he grew healthier and able to think about his predicament, so that the thought of a visitor was a welcome event.

  “Come in,” he said, rising to his feet, anticipating that Hope had finally come back.

  A man with a hood over his face stepped into the room, then lowered his hood to reveal Elred, the priest from the temple of Acton.

  “The God Acton’s First Acolyte has spoken to me, and told me to bring in the Chosen One, who will be recognized as the God’s partner in the battle to come,” Elred said. His face was paler than usual, and his voice was strained.

  “Is everything alright?” Grange asked.

  “The Acolyte came and spoke directly to me; he said that I had kept a secret from him, and that I should repent from my mistake and bring him the champion immediately,” Elred answered.

  “There’s a First Acolyte?” Grange asked. “I thought the god himself spoke to people. I thought that was why he came to Earth.”

  “He did speak to us and walk among us and even make merry with some worshippers when he first arrived, but since the arrival of the First Acolyte, Lord Acton has taken refuge in the hallowed precincts of the temple, where none of us can see him. The Acolyte tells us what the God wants,” Elred explained.

  “Here, I’ve brought you this cape and hood. We should go immediately,” the priest told Grange.

  “I’d be glad to get out of here,” Grange agreed. “I’ve been in here a long time; I’m ready to get out.

  “Will it be safe?” he asked as he wrapped the cape around his back and lifted the hood.

  “The patrols won’t expect you to be out in the middle of the city in the middle of the day. They’ve grown skeptical of the search for you after so many days,” Elred explained.

  Grange said farewell to Masky on his way out, then walked cautiously beside his guide as they stuck to a route through side streets and alleys, until they reached a large square in the middle of the city.

  “The Temple is where the large spire rises just on the other side of the square,” Elred announced with relief.

  “We’re almost there.”

  They crossed the square among the traffic and bustle of the people of the city, then climbed the short flight of steps that ran across the front of the temple. The temple’s own guards were posted at the entrances, and they nodded to the returning priest as he strode up to the door.

  “Stop right there!” a dramatic voice boomed from a small balcony on the front of the temple, beneath the portico roof, between the columns, and looking down on the stairs from the square.

  Elred and Grange stopped in their tracks.

  “It’s the Acolyte,” Elred explained in a low voice.

  “I’m coming down to see you, and to herald the arrival of the new champion of humanity,” the man on the balcony said. He stepped inside, and a minute later he came out of the building directly in front of them.

  “Send messengers to the king and all the great nobles of the city, to tell them that our great champion is to be revealed today, and the nation will prepare to respond,” the man announced. Grange was astonished by his appearance; the man was not in any way a typical native of Southgar. He had dark hair, and skin that was almost swarthy. He was heavyset and shorter than anyone else on the steps.

  “Elred, you are to be commended. Lord Acton has told me that you and others found our champion, and have protected him here in our city, waiting for the day he would be revealed. He will become the partner of our lord in the battle against the evil that is coming,” the man spoke in solemn tones.

  “Now, our champion shall be turned over to me for instruction and guidance,” he explained. “And when the time comes, and our great god of war commands, the champion shall be turned over to Acton for their partnership in battle.”

  The doors behind the Acolyte suddenly began to glow, and expanded in size. It was an extraordinary sight that mesmerized Grange as he watched from within the folds of his hood, only a few yards away from the inexplicable physical phenomena.

  The enlarged doors opened majestically, and a figure twice the size of any mortal man strode forth, dressed in leather and linen, armed with an arsenal of every weapon conceivable strapped or hanging from his person, and a grim smile on his face.

  “Behold, his lordship, the great God Acton,” Elred proclaimed in awe, and he fell to his knees on the steps.

  Chapter 12

  Grange watched as all the people around him also fell to their knees in the presence of the god, and prostrated themselves with their faces nearly on the ground. He awkwardly fell to his own knees, observing that even the people in the city square were acknowledging the presence of the god by kneeling to him.

  “Come, my champion,” Acton spoke to Grange. “You are my partner-to-be; you shall not have to kneel. Come stand beside me and let us acknowledge the beginning of our partnership.” He stretched an arm out to Grange, who obediently rose back to his feet and climbed the steps up the temple to stand a step below the god, looking up at him in astonishment.

  “This is my Champion, Grange,” Acton pronounced loudly. A startled grunt escaped from the throat of the Acolyte.

  “He and my Acolyte shall serve me, my followers, my temple, and ultimately all of you and all of humanity, in the contest that is to come. The grea war will begin here, and will be decided here, I believe,” he pronounced.

  “Hockis,’ he turned slightly to the Acolyte, who stood on his right, “introduce yourself to Grange, the Champion,” he commanded. “He shall work with you to make sure that the temple and the palace and the citizens of the nation are all united in their common commitment to our goal of victory.”

  Hockis turned towards Grange, and stuck his hand out. “I am ready to be your partner, as the great god has commanded,” he said reverently.

  Grange extended his right hand and clasped Hockis’s, while pulling down his hood with his left hand. He no longer needed to hide within the shadows of the hood; he had been unexpectedly raised to a new status, one that presumably conferred safety and freedom for him within the city henceforth.

  “I am Grange,” he pronounced.

  Hockis watched as the hood was lowered, and Grange felt the man’s hand tremble with fear.

  “Oh my God, protect me!” he wailed, as he wrenched his hand out of Grange’s grasp and slid up and over so that he could interpose the massive presence of the god between himself and Grange.

  Grange looked at the man, baffled by the strange action.

  “Hockis, my servant, what jest is this?” Acton asked.

  “Grange bears me great ill will, and I fear he will slay me,” Hockis answered in a trembling voice.

  “My Champion, is this true?” Acton turned his scrutiny towards Grange.

  “I do not know this man, my lord,” Grange spoke, looking up at the god. “I do not wish to hurt him.”

  “Will you swear to me that you will honor me and bear him no ill will for any past transgressions?” Acton asked, his brilliant green eyes boring into Grange’s soul.

  “I will not, of course, my lord,” Grange answered.

  “That is as I would wish,” Acton was satisfied. “Hockis came to my temple and has made the worship run smoothly, so that my
message may spread among all the people of Southgar, and allow me to indulge in other activities,” he smiled fondly down at Hockis.

  “His governance is important, while your powers in battle shall be important in their time. I need you both,” the god explained.

  “It shall be as you wish, my lord,” Grange spoke earnestly.

  “Hockis, you have heard my Champion’s pledge. Are you satisfied that he will not harm you?” Acton turned to speak to the man who still cowered behind him.

  There was a disturbance in the square, and the eyes of the people on the temple steps turned to observe the cause. A string of royal carriages were rolling into the square, heralded by horns blaring regal blasts. The carriages rolled to a stop near the temple, and the footmen riding upon them immediately opened their doors and placed stools in front of the doors, so that the occupants could disembark.

  The King emerged from the door of the front carriage, and once his foot descended to the ground, a host of others emptied out of the other carriages.

  “My lord,” the king ascended the steps, his eyes fixed upon the astonishing figure that stood in front of the temple.

  “We heard that you had emerged from your seclusion, and we came to pledge our support,” the king said.

  Grange watched King Magnus speak, then looked past him at the others who also approached the temple. He saw Jenniline on one side, striding by herself, her eyes taking in Grange and widening; not far away, in the center of the group, directly behind her father, he saw Hope, with a group of girls who looked so similar to her that Grange assumed they had to be her sisters. Hope saw Grange as well, as her eyes took in the tableau, and she gave him the ghost of a smile.

  “Good King Magnus, your arrival is timely,” Acton said. He lowered his hand and placed it on the king’s shoulder, drawing a few muffled gasps from the crowd at the sign of the holy touch.

  “Here I have my acolyte, who you have met before,” the god indicated Hockis, drawing a guarded look from Magnus. “Here now, finally arrived, is my Champion, Grange, who shall be my partner in the battle against the demons that are planning to come through Southgar on their way to overrun the world.”

  Magnus turned to look at Grange, and his face turned bright red.

  “My lord, this is an impostor!” Magnus exploded.

  “Are you suggesting that I cannot see as clearly as you?” the god rumbled ominously. He removed his hand from Magnus, and placed it upon Grange’s shoulder.

  The touch was extraordinary. Grange felt vitality course through his flesh from the connection to the power being.

  “No, my lord,” Magnus immediately said. He dropped to his knees, and all the members of his party behind dropped as well.

  “You are wise to rethink your words,” Acton told Magnus.

  “This is the time for changes to take place in Southgar. The nation must be ready for battle. The people must be united. There must be harmony among all the residents of the nation, and old divisions must be overcome,” Acton began his speech.

  “Grange has been tested. He has faced demons before. He has learned the ways of wizardry,” the god pronounced as he removed his hand from Grange. “He has learned to fight as well as any mortal. He has the special ability to see demons, and he was chosen by the Elementals to fight with them.

  “What’s more, he has an undisclosed claim upon the throne of Southgar,” the god paused, and the silence was filled by gasps and murmurs, especially among the members of Magnus’s party.

  “Grange is the direct descendant of Ragnar, the previous king of Southgar, born months after his father’s death, hidden in a foreign land,” Acton said.

  Grange was stunned, and felt his knees turn weak. It was his worst nightmare – to have Magnus’s wild, paranoid fears publically confirmed by a god. It was unthinkable, unbelievable.

  “To unify the nation of Southgar, it is my command that the line of the Bloomingians be returned to the palace,” as Acton gave his edict, Grange saw Magnus’s face grow red once again.

  “You shall give him a suite of rooms in the palace, and you shall give this Bloomingian heir the hand of one of your daughters for marriage, so that their offspring shall be the heirs to the throne, and their line – your line and the Bloomingian line – shall be united, as the nation shall be re-united,” Acton dictated.

  “And you shall send the young couple down to the outcasts as emissaries, bearing the offer of restoration to all who chose to return to Southgar,” he added.

  “Grange, here is my first boon for you; you shall have a royal wife,” the god spoke. He gave a wink and a leer that caught Grange off-guard as the deity looked down at his Champion. “It’s your choice, and a pleasant time you’ll have making the choice, I’m sure.

  “And here is my second boon to you; you shall have the complete restoration of your health and your memories, so that you understand all that has happened, and anticipate what is to come,” Acton said.

  There was a blinding flash of light, or at least Grange perceived one. He covered his eyes with his hands, and felt his head seemingly twist on his neck. Thoughts and concepts and memories were pouring in and rising up, back into his consciousness. Grange’s legs grew weak, even as he felt them – and all his body –become strong and whole. He fell to his knees, while he felt his life grow complicated, far more complicated than he had ever guessed when he had wandered in the wilderness.

  “Hockis!” he pulled his hands from his eyes and looked over at the criminal who had betrayed him to a fate that should have been death in the labor camp.

  “Remember your pledge to God Acton!” Hockis squealed.

  “He will remember,” Acton quietly affirmed.

  “Ariana!” Grange spoke – the memory of the girl, the spirit, the jewel, returning – and then the memory of her destruction at the hands of the demon who had commandeered Grange’s own wand.

  “Miriam!” Grange recollected the sword that had been empowered by the goddess in the temple in Palmland, as the barrier in his memory that had been created by the Yellow Spring waters was dissolved.

  He recollected the long lessons and the great powers from Brieed’s apprenticeship, and he remembered the idyllic days among the islands of Kilau. Then the memories of the terrible battle at the mine in the wilderness filled him with sadness. His life was astonishing, he realized. And now here he was, called upon by a god to serve as a champion for humanity, to face the daunting task of defeating an invasion of demons.

  “You remember,” Acton said. “Hold on,” he said in a low voice to Grange. “Hold on to your sanity, and your humanity.”

  “And here is your third – and for now, final, boon; I grant to you a restoration and fuller realization of your powers,” the god told Grange.

  There was a glow in the air, and a swirling vortex of energy, visible to Grange, and visible to all, which circled and slowly closed in upon him, and then was absorbed into Grange.

  “Is he a god now?” Elred asked, shaken by the extraordinary display that had been witnessed by the hundreds of people from the temple and the square and the palace, all gathered together.

  “He is the champion of all the gods, but not a god himself,” Acton boomed. “Treat him well.

  “Take him back to the palace, make him feel at home. Let him select a bride, and then let the couple be the embassy to reunite the nation,” Acton seemed to diminish slightly.

  “And when the time comes, rely upon him to fight with me to defeat the demons.

  “And now, I leave you for the time being. I shall return to my inner sanctum, and Hockis shall communicate my wishes to you,” the god spoke to all. He turned and walked abruptly back into the temple. Once he was through the doors, they shrank down from their enlarged size to their previous dimensions, still large and imposing, but no longer as oversized as a god needed.

  Grange stared at the doors, and boggled at the appearance, the speech, and the disappearance of the god. He was overwhelmed, unable to incorporate and synthes
ize the vast quantity of information and change that had descended upon.

  His gaze swung around from the temple doors to look around. Standing before him he saw that Hope and Jenniline had stepped up to take positions on either side of their father, who stood looking at Grange with profound hatred. On one side of Jenniline Grange saw Elred, looking at him with adoration, while near Hope he saw Hockis, examining him with a contemplative, scheming expression on his face.

  “What do you wish to do now, my lord?” Elred spoke.

  Grange stood, paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do. The vast number of revelations he had been subjected to were too much to grasp. The idea of being an heir of a deposed king was fantastical, impossible. The pain of the memories of lost Ariana and the other jewels, through the power of his own wand, was heartbreaking. The recollections of Shaylee, and even of Grace, were warm. The thought of having to fit into the society of Southgar, to reconcile the divided nation, to battle demons – they were all a vast weight of responsibility he could not withstand.

  “Perhaps the Champion should come into the temple and allow me to counsel him,” Hockis spoke up, seeming to regain his confidence as he saw Grange fail to respond.

  Grange looked at Hockis, sure that he didn’t want to spend any time with the man. He looked around, desperately wishing that some sign would appear to tell him what to say and do. His eyes caught Jenniline’s; she gave a slight shake of her head, almost indistinguishable.

  It was a sign. It told him something, and he grasped the knowledge. The outcast princess undoubtedly meant to tell him less than he interpreted from that slight motion, but he needed a life line to cling to as he tried to digest and adjust.

  “I believe I will go to the palace first,” he spoke.

  Elred nodded, while Magnus looked angry.

  “And I choose Jenniline,” he began to say.

  “What?” the princess responded in a loud, shrill tone. “Are you crazy? This is not possible.”

  Grange stopped, interrupted, and surprised. He let his eyes flicker over to Hope, and thought he saw a look of pain on her face.