Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  The trapped warriors redoubled their efforts and pressed forward. In a whirl of motion he’d never thought possible, they set upon the remaining Chamdon. In their center, a tall warrior leaped from the back of his unicorn and landed amongst the startled enemy. Blond hair swirled about him as his silvery chain mail spun almost too fast to follow. He easily dispatched any Chamdon within his reach.

  Amazing. Farrell caught himself staring.

  “Indeed. Miceral is our greatest warrior. He is eager to meet you.”

  Eager to meet him? Huh? He shook off the confusion—and embarrassment at being caught gawking—and lashed out at one of the few remaining Chamdon. From Nerti’s back, he plucked the short staff, and their escorts disappeared. Leaping down, he put the dowel in his belt and turned back the way they’d come.

  Enemy soldiers started pouring through the open space where he had fired the arrows. Farrell raised his hands and the white walls moved toward him, growing in density. He connected the ends when they passed the charging enemy, creating a solid wall that blocked any further progress. Then he raised the top until it closed over them, forming a semicircle of protection.

  True to their nature, the Chamdon beat against the wall, howling in their attempt to carry out their orders. Shaking his head, he turned away. Senseless.

  “That will hold them until….” He paused as he found himself face to face with the blond warrior who’d captured his attention. Staring into the piercing blue eyes, he almost forgot to finish his thought. “Um, it will hold. My apologies. I didn’t mean to stare.”

  The warrior laughed. “Of course you did.” His deep voice sent a shiver through his body. When the man smiled, Farrell extended a hand to hide his embarrassment.

  “I am Farrell. That was amazing, watching you and the others fight.”

  “Not so impressive as what you did to reach us. We would not have survived had you not come.” He grasped Farrell’s hand and pulled him into an embrace. “I am Miceral, and you have my eternal thanks.”

  That’s not all I’d like from you. His thought almost left him with an embarrassing condition, so he broke the hug and moved toward the fallen peregrine. Others attempted to treat a deep gash in the raptor’s side. Blood covered much of the peregrine’s body, and he saw off-white bone through the rent flesh. Field medicine wouldn’t save him, and it appeared none of those helping possessed a healer’s gift.

  “Let me through, please.” He used his staff to gently but firmly move others aside. The pain in the peregrine’s eyes made him wince. Big as a horse for certain. Kneeling beside the stricken raptor, he reached out mentally. “Peregrine, I am also a servant of Honorus. Your wound is grievous, and although I’m not a trained healer, I possess enough of a healer’s gift that I believe I can patch you up until a true healer can tend to you. Though I make no promises as to my skill, I seek your permission to try.”

  “Waste not your talents on me. Nothing you do will enable me to travel fast enough to make it back to the gate. You, who are Lenore’s Chosen, must save the others so my death is not in vain.”

  He frowned his annoyance. “Stupid warriors. I didn’t risk my life and Nerti’s to leave you behind. We will all make it out safely. That I promise you.”

  Without waiting for permission, he held his hands, now engulfed in a deep green glow, over the bloody gash. Working as his mother had taught him, he began with the deepest wounds. First the damage to organs disappeared, followed by the torn flesh. Though featherless and covered in blood, the rent closed and the bleeding stopped.

  “Your wound is healed sufficiently that you may be moved. You are correct. You cannot travel on your own, but I would be a poor wizard if I could not overcome that obstacle.” Standing, he stamped the end of the staff on the ground next to his right foot. Underneath the massive peregrine, a cushion of rose-colored energy gently lifted him off the ground.

  Farrell turned to address the crowd behind him. “One of the company will need to pull your wounded friend. His weight will not burden you much, but there will be some extra effort needed.”

  A peregrine head appeared just to the left of his ear, the beak of the eight-foot raptor mere inches from his face. The black-mottled feathers tickled his skin.

  “Chosen of Lenore, I am Grohl. Before you lies my brother, Takala. I will bear him wherever he needs to go. Know this,” he said, turning Farrell around with his beak. Everyone else, including Nerti, stood behind Grohl. “From this day forward, you will forever be a brother of mine. You are part of my family until the line of Rothdin, my sire, ceases to be.” He bowed his head.

  “Mighty Grohl. It was a simple task, not worthy of the honor you do me. Still, I will do all I can to be worthy to be called your brother.” Farrell bowed to Grohl.

  By now, the bodies of their enemy covered every inch of the barrier. Chamdon continued to hack in futility at the white energy.

  Miceral walked over and pointed to the barrier. “How long will that hold?”

  “As long as I want it to. But as long as it remains, we’re stuck here.” He mulled how best to proceed. “So far, they’ve not brought any wizards, but I suspect several lurk at the edge of these beasts. They’re in no rush to attack, given that I’ve killed five of their number. Likely they’re gathering as many wizards as they can before they make a move.”

  Miceral smiled at him, twisting Farrell’s stomach and his tongue in knots. Turning to cover his embarrassment, he focused on how many allies he needed to shepherd to the gate. Ten unicorns, including Nerti, nine Muchari, and six peregrines. Takala would obviously be pulled along, but what about the others?

  “Forgive my ignorance.” He turned back toward Miceral. “But how fast can a peregrine run? Can they keep up with Nerti?”

  “No one can keep up with Nerti, Prince Farrell.” This came from a unicorn standing next to Nerti. “But our feathered friends are quite fleet of foot when the need arises.”

  That helped. “Here is what I propose. I need the unicorns to assemble in a wedge on either side of Nerti. She’ll take point with four of you on each side. Peregrines in the center. Grohl, you stay directly behind Nerti. The rest of you cover our rear.” He pointed to the uninjured peregrines.

  Hearing no objections, he took the staff from his belt and found two more in his pocket. “I need nine unicorns to pull the energy shield. The tenth has to keep out of formation.”

  “Why is one unicorn not involved?” Miceral asked.

  “Because once we get moving, someone needs to take me to the back so I can protect our rear.” He gave Miceral a nervous smile. “That, and ten is the wrong number for creating a wedge.”

  “Klissmor and I will take you.”

  Despite himself, he blushed. “That will be great… er… acceptable.” He nodded slightly toward the still-smiling warrior. Please, Honorus, let him be the one.

  Shaking off his desires, he turned to address the others. “I assume you are all attuned to the shield so you can pass through?”

  Several unicorns and soldiers nodded. “That is what we were told,” Miceral said.

  “Good. Then we don’t need to do anything fancy. Once we start, just stay in formation behind Nerti and make for the gate. As long as we’re surrounded by the escort, nothing short of a powerful wizard can reach us.

  “I’m going to use the barrier as a weapon to clear a path. Nerti, follow behind it, grinding anything in your way. I’ll watch for and deal with their wizards. Questions?” Hearing none, he walked toward Nerti.

  Before mounting, he stopped to look into her green eyes. “How are you? You’ve handled quite a bit. Do you need more time to recover?”

  Nerti looked hard at him, and he felt as if she searched his mind. He relaxed when her expression softened. “Your concern for me is appreciated, but I might ask you the same.” Before he could protest, she added, “I am up to the task Lenore gave me, just as you are for yours. But before we go, I must thank you. Klissmor is my mate. He and I have been companions since the time
Lenore set us here to protect Her creatures. I have no words to thank you properly, nor can I repay your gift. But from now forth, I shall bear you wherever you need to go.”

  “You honor me, Nerti, but in this I am not worthy. You are Lenore’s to command, as I am the servant of Honorus. I cannot accept your offer, though I’m honored beyond words that you would consider me worthy to bear.”

  “The choice is not yours, nor is it mine. Centuries ago, it was told to me by my Lady whom Klissmor and I would be bound to. Klissmor found Miceral long ago. In you, I am certain I have found my rider. Like it or not, we are bound together.” She moved around so he could mount. Before he could get settled, she added, “Miceral asked that I tell you: he is glad I am bound to you as well. He is quite taken with you, Farrell, as much as you are with him.”

  He tried to hide his surprise, but without thinking, he turned toward Miceral. The handsome Muchari grinned happily at him. Embarrassed, he gave Miceral a smile and a small wave.

  Focus, you fool. It took him a moment to force all thoughts of Miceral, Nerti, and Klissmor from his mind. There would be time for that later.

  Passing a short staff to the Muchari on either side of him, he took a deep breath and removed two more silver bracelets from his pocket. The old ones merged into the new ones, thickening and widening.

  “Ready?”

  He received a chorus of “aye,” “yes,” and “let’s do this” in response.

  Touching the three staffs with his mind, he said a silent prayer to Honorus for strength. “Wait for the shield to lead the way, and then take off. The escort will appear after the first step. Stick to the path and maintain formation.”

  He took another breath, peeked back at Miceral, who gave him a salute with two fingers, and looked forward. Let’s do this.

  With a quick flick, he pulled his staff from his back. The ends of the staff matched the color of the shield he extended in front of him. Turning the staff slowly side to side, Farrell watched the intensity of the shield flicker at the edges. Pulling the staff toward him, he moved it faster, and the wall started to buckle inward. He stopped moving the staff, and energy began to drain into the center. When the ends looked thin and flimsy, he sucked the remaining power into the middle and thrust his arm and the staff forward.

  “Now!”

  Instantly, the group jumped toward the bright center. As if pushed by Nerti, the energy shot forward, cutting a deep swath through their enemy. Shaken by the assault, those left standing gave way before the charging mass of red energy unicorns.

  Klissmor ran just behind Nerti as the wedge tore through the few standing Chamdon in their way.

  “Nerti, tell Klissmor I need to get to the back of the formation.”

  Floating over her, he slowly drifted back until he felt Miceral grab his shirt. “Straight to the gate, Nerti. I’ll be just a moment.”

  Miceral hoisted him onto Klissmor, facing forward.

  “I need to be sitting with my back to yours to work my magic.” He maintained the levitation spell until he faced the rear of the group.

  Klissmor slowed his pace, causing them to drift behind the swift-moving peregrine. Farrell pulled a two-foot-long ivory staff from his pocket. With a few words, it flared to life. Before he could deploy it, Nerti’s voice appeared in his mind.

  “Farrell, wizards have erected a powerful barrier.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Holding the glowing rod at arm’s length in front of him, he opened his hand. The staff kept its elevation but drifted away several feet. Staring at the staff, he completed the spell. A blaze of fire eight feet high and twenty feet wide erupted from the ivory. It maintained its distance as the company charged toward Northhelm.

  “I’m done here. Take me back to Nerti.”

  Klissmor increased speed, moving just behind his mate. Levitating off Klissmor, Farrell reached out for Nerti. Instead of sitting, he folded his legs under him and magically linked himself to the unicorn. He looked back at Miceral, giving him a wink and a smile before facing forward.

  His wizard sight immediately found the threat. About seven hundred yards ahead, a score of wizards banded together, ten yards in front of a shield wall that radiated from inside the mountain. They had created a new barrier that would keep Nerti from reaching the gate. After a quick assessment of the shield’s strength, he decided on a plan using what weapons he had left.

  Pointing his staff at the spot in the wall he estimated they would cross, he fired a stream of blue wizard’s fire at the barrier. Nine more lines joined his. All ten streams joined just before striking the wall. Farrell locked the energy copies into maintaining the assault, then stowed his staff.

  When the enemy returned fire as he had hoped, he smiled. Focusing power from his right hand into his left, he created a multicolored sphere of swirling energy. He raised his left hand into the air, moving the sphere above and to the left of his head. Casting a second spell, he diverted the enemy attacks into the swirling globe in his left hand. He removed his hand, leaving the ball suspended directly above him. As more energy struck the ball, it expanded, getting brighter in the process.

  Placing his hands in front of him, shoulder-width apart, he created a second multicolored sphere. He kept it hovering between his hands, siphoning energy from the globe overhead into it. Despite the influx of power, he refused to let the new globe expand. The pressure of containing that much force in a small space caused his hands and arms to shake. As he struggled to keep control, the energy whirled violently inside the globe.

  Eventually, the enemy stopped firing. Too late they recognized their mistake.

  “Farrell, we draw near.” Nerti’s voice held a note of urgency. “If we collide with that wall, I am not sure we will penetrate it.”

  “I’m working on it, Nerti,” he said tersely. “I’m working on it.”

  Draining the first globe, he added more power from his own stores. By now, the energy raged inside its container, pulsing brighter and brighter. His entire body shook as he fought to maintain control. He never looked away from the ball, not even to check on the target.

  Finally, he let the pressure force his hands apart. The sphere, now glowing white, skipped along the streams of energy from the escorts. As he had hoped, the enemy wizards appeared too absorbed defending against the steady attack to notice what he had been doing.

  The globe covered the few remaining yards in a split second. When it struck, the ball detonated on contact, shattering the barrier in a brilliant burst of light. Force met force in a violent explosion, creating a shock wave in all directions.

  Riding directly into the maelstrom, the wave struck the energy escorts protecting the small company. The images shielding the group shimmered twice, then disappeared with a flash of light. A grunt escaped Farrell’s lips when his spell dissolved.

  The impact and explosion seared everything unshielded in its path, leaving only the charred remains of their enemy. A few wizards survived the shield being blown apart, but they died when the shock wave ricocheted off the shield defending Northhelm.

  Left unprotected, Nerti increased their pace. Farrell dropped his legs to resume his seat on her back, but, still disoriented, he misjudged the distance between the two. He slid down but a powerful hand grabbed him before he hit the ground.

  Gathered in a pair of arms, he heard Miceral say, “Relax, Farrell, I have you.”

  He managed a wan smile. “Thanks.”

  The strong arms continued to encircle him as they galloped toward their destination. Even through his grogginess, he felt a tingle of excitement from the contact.

  “Feeling better, little wizard?” He could almost hear the smile on Miceral’s face.

  “The sudden rush of energy in and out of me caused me some disorientation.” He stammered to cover his embarrassment. “The shock wave was unexpectedly strong, and when it cancelled the spells that created our escort, that power snapped back into me, giving me quite a jolt.” Squirming, he felt Miceral tighten his grip. Rat
her than resist, he settled back against the armored chest. “I suppose this makes us square. I saved you from the horde of Chamdon; you saved me from being trampled to death. I ought not overestimate my strengths again.”

  “From my perspective, you can overestimate whenever you like, so long as I can be there to catch you.”

  Unsure how to react to this blatant flirtation, he sought refuge in the familiar. “I’d better shield us before we’re attacked again.”

  “No need,” Miceral said. “That little explosion of yours caused devastation on a massive scale. There isn’t an enemy soldier standing within five hundred yards of us. We are just about to….” Miceral paused, and Farrell felt the tingle of passing through a friendly shield. “…enter into our own protective area.”

  “Stop!” Farrell shouted. “Let me off!”

  KLISSMOR STOPPED suddenly and Nerti did too. Everyone behind them swerved to keep their distance. Farrell gave no explanation. He leapt down and turned back the way they’d come.

  He raised both hands, and an enormous energy bowl formed over his head. A sudden blast of sickly black-and-red energy ripped through Northhelm’s shield, striking the protective dome and forcing him to his knees. A grunt slipped out of his mouth at the same time Miceral jumped off Klissmor.

  “Farrell!”

  Raising a hand, Farrell pointed at Miceral. “No! Stay back.” He needed to complete this. He’d been fortunate that the hastily wrought shield held the last attack.

  When Miceral continued to close in, Farrell muttered under his breath and threw a barrier between them. He’d apologize later. Right now he needed to focus on defending everyone—including himself.

  Another attack ripped through the sky. He struggled to keep on his feet as he hurried to close the circle of energy. Once the ends merged, he launched the new weapon back along the path Meglar’s assault had traveled. Forming a second shield, he anxiously peered skyward. A flash of light on the far horizon brought the hint of a smile to his face. It didn’t answer their problems, but it helped. Without releasing his shield, he engaged his wizard’s sight, looking in the direction where the attacks originated. Seeing nothing, he relaxed.