Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2

by Andrew Q. Gordon

FARRELL SLEPT until he heard someone shuffling about the room. Rolling over, he tried to ignore Lisle, but Miceral sat straight up.

  “My, aren’t you a jumpy thing. Not at all like your friend there.” Lisle’s voice took on an acerbic tone. “I had your things moved to these rooms. A rather persistent unicorn kept insisting the temple send clerics to my room with instructions to move your bags here.” She continued to move about the room, gathering dirty clothes, unfazed by Miceral’s presence.

  “Thank you,” Miceral said. “I wouldn’t have known where to find my room. We came here first, and Farrell fell asleep before he found someone to show me to my quarters.”

  Farrell pushed his head farther into his pillow.

  “Hmm, is that right?”

  He heard Lisle leave and groaned into his pillow, knowing where she was headed next.

  “When his royal messiness wakes up,” she called from the adjoining room, “remind him to drain the tub.”

  “Um, sure,” Miceral answered as Farrell poked his head up.

  Rolling his eyes, he mouthed the word Lisle before planting a soft kiss on Miceral’s neck. “Good morning, Lisle.” He leaned over and brushed his lips across Miceral’s cheek.

  Lisle stomped back into the room. “Well, well, my messy little wizard prince has decided to grace us with his magnificent presence.” Farrell rolled onto his stomach, pulling the ends of the pillow up around his head.

  Miceral snickered before rubbing his back.

  “Now, none of that, lad. It’s long past time for you to be up. I can’t clean until you get your lazy, naked bottom out of bed. No offense to you, Master…?”

  “Miceral.”

  Farrell steeled himself for her response.

  “Nice to meet you, Miceral, even if Farrell is too ill-mannered to have introduced us properly.” She paused long enough for Farrell to shake his head into the pillow. “If it isn’t too inconvenient, would you please empty that oversized tub of yours?”

  Turning again, he noticed Miceral, red-faced, clearly uncomfortable with Lisle standing in the doorway.

  “Yes, Lisle, my apologies for being rude and not introducing you to Miceral and for forgetting yet again to drain the tub. I’m an awful person. I don’t deserve you in the least.”

  “You’re right, you don’t deserve me, but I’ll keep trying to make you presentable all the same. There’s food on the table. Hurry up and eat; then get out. Show your friend around or something. Here’s an idea. Show him his room so he isn’t stuck here with you forever.” With an exaggerated turn, she left.

  He mumbled a spell, rolling his eyes. “The tub is drained, Lisle. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Yes,” she called from somewhere else in the apartment. “Get up and get out!”

  He snapped his hand at the door and it swung shut. “Remind me to make sure to change the spell on that door. When we’re in here, I don’t want anyone, not even Lisle, to have access.” He sighed heavily, then pushed the covers off.

  “Lenore’s bright eyes, that is a sassy woman.” Despite his obvious embarrassment earlier, Miceral smiled broadly now. “Where did you find her?”

  “She’s been at Haven since before I was born. When my former master died, she adopted me as her mission in life. Given how inept I am at housekeeping, I quickly became her full-time assignment. I pay her enough to cover her loss of other paying clients, and she seems content to make sure I stay in line.” Farrell climbed out of bed. He walked over to his closet, pulled out a pair of baggy linen pants, and stepped into them.

  Still in bed, Miceral scanned the room.

  Farrell noticed Miceral’s search and held up a finger. “Hold on. I’ll find your things.” Opening the door, he went into the main room. Back against the far wall, someone had stacked several canvas bags neatly in a row. He ignored the long, narrow bag, assuming it contained weapons. The first two he hefted felt far too heavy to contain clothing. The last two felt lighter, so he decided to take them both rather than check the contents.

  One in each hand, he marched back to his room and kicked the door closed when he passed. “Hopefully, these have what you need.”

  Miceral threw the covers back, causing Farrell to stare. Smiling, he met Miceral’s gaze and received a wink in return. Miceral grabbed both bags and tossed them on the bed.

  “These are most of my clothes. Were there others, or is this it?” Miceral never turned around, so Farrell kept his eyes fixed on his flawless ass. Miceral rummaged through the closest pack and pulled out a tunic and pants before facing Farrell. “Were there others?”

  Caught staring, Farrell blushed furiously. “Um… there were several others, but these seemed to have clothing in them.”

  Farrell noticed the food Lisle had delivered. He motioned for Miceral to sit as he took the nearest chair.

  “Um….” Miceral stared at the hallway leading to the vestibule. “I can check to see they’re all there later.”

  In addition to Farrell’s favorite cheese, Lisle had the kitchen send up four others, along with bread and butter, a half dozen boiled eggs, water, and coffee.

  “By the Six! Do you eat like this every day?” Miceral joined him at the small table.

  “Well, no, this was clearly meant to be special. Despite her sharp tongue, Lisle really does look out for me. She’s been like my mother since… since I got here.”

  Farrell stared at the food, his chest suddenly tight. After a few moments, Farrell realized Miceral had stopped eating. Drawing his attention from the food, he saw Miceral staring at him, peeled egg in hand.

  “What’s wrong?” He put his food down and reached across the small stone table.

  Farrell swallowed hard. “My mother stood beside Heminaltose, defending Yar-del the day Meglar captured the city. They died to make sure I survived and had time to bring the remains of Yar-del’s Source safely to Haven.”

  He reached for an egg to cover his sadness. “It’s really not something I wish to discuss today, if that’s okay. But before you hear it from someone else, on that day I had a chance to kill Meglar and prevent all the misery he has brought to the world. Obviously, I failed. The sacking of the other three kingdoms, the loss of your home, the untold number of lives he warped and twisted to create his army of Chamdon—none of that would’ve occurred if I hadn’t failed that day.”

  Staring at the food, he almost put it down. Miceral ran his thumb across the back of Farrell’s hand.

  “How about we have that discussion another time? It’s clear it upsets you.” Miceral waited for Farrell to calm before continuing. “I won’t judge you, Farrell. We’ve all failed before.”

  Farrell shook his head. “I doubt anyone else can say, ‘Because I failed, four kingdoms fell and tens of thousands of lives were destroyed.’”

  “It was ten years ago. You were young and had not come fully into your power. Others far more powerful and experienced than you also failed that day. So the blame is hardly yours.” He bent across the small table and kissed Farrell lightly on the lips. “We’ll talk about this another day. Perhaps when we know each other better and you won’t worry I’ll leave.”

  Farrell took small bites of food before he felt he could speak without his voice cracking. “Thank you.”

  Miceral nodded but remained quiet. Once Farrell started eating, he realized the lunch the day before had been his last meal. He managed to devour more than half the food and reached for more when Miceral pushed back from the table, shaking his head.

  “Will there be food enough for my people when you’re finished?”

  Farrell shrugged, popping the last of the cheese into his mouth. “High magic is very taxing.” Full, he stood up to check on the bath chamber. Finding it clean and Lisle gone, he returned to his room and a smiling Miceral.

  Part of him felt bad he hadn’t given Miceral the option of leaving. But he also didn’t want Miceral to leave—ever.

  “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t plan to trap you here. After some q
uiet time alone, I really did plan to take you to your room. I left you no choice but to stay with me, and that was wrong. I’ll see to it that your things are moved to your quarters, and I’ll take you there when we leave.”

  Miceral’s unfocused eyes remained fixed on a blank wall. Nodding slowly, he finally met Farrell’s gaze. “Does it seem to you we’ve moved too fast, too soon? I mean, I’ve known you less than four days, and already I’m ready to move in and spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Farrell sat back down, hoping to find the right words. “I’ve given great thought to that same question. In some ways I’d say, yes, we’re going too fast. Then again, Honorus and Lenore made it clear we’re meant to be together. Perhaps that’s reduced any apprehension on our parts?”

  Miceral shook his head twice. “I’m not sure I agree. My desire to be with you isn’t because Lenore said so. As I said before, I feel complete. I knew when I met you that you were the one.”

  Farrell’s face split into a huge grin. “Did I tell you that as soon as I met you, I said a prayer to Honorus, begging that you be the one He meant?”

  Miceral laughed. “No, you didn’t mention that.”

  Farrell gave him a smile and a shrug but didn’t know what else to say.

  “Should we take a step back?” Miceral finally broke the silence. “Or keep going and see what happens?”

  Farrell stared into Miceral’s deep blue eyes and made a decision not to shy away. “I have no idea if I’m crazy or right, but I’m certain you’re the one I want to spend my life with. Silly, foolish, impulsive, whatever, I don’t care. So I’m not sure if I answered your question, but yes, we are moving at breakneck speed, but no, I don’t care because I don’t think it’s wrong.”

  Miceral smiled, putting his hand out. When Farrell placed his over Miceral’s, the warrior visibly relaxed. “That’s how I feel but was afraid to scare you off. Sometimes I can be a bit much, and you seemed a bit unsure. I didn’t want my thinking to sway your actions.”

  “So….” Farrell paused, then decided to just say what he wanted. “Should I cancel your quarters?”

  “That’s what prompted my question. I was going to suggest it but needed to be sure you’re comfortable charging headlong into whatever it is we’re doing. It’s the first time Lenore picked someone for me.”

  Farrell squeezed Miceral’s hands, hoping it would calm his racing heart. “First time Honorus acknowledged I have a personal life.”

  Laughing together, he noted the sparkle in Miceral’s eyes. There’d been attraction before, but this felt different. This made his heart lurch. Standing, he drew Miceral with him. “Well, that’s settled. Check to see if all your things are here. I’m going to wash up before we set out into the depths of Haven.”

  Moving with a bounce in his step, Farrell walked to the bath chamber, and hummed as the washbasin filled.

  “Don’t you mess it up in there. I just finished cleaning, you silly child,” Lisle called from another room.

  Shaking his head, he smiled at her way of showing affection. If only she didn’t…. He stopped himself. She didn’t need to change at all.

  He dried off, brushed his teeth, and went to tell Miceral he could have the bathing chamber. Not finding him in their room—he smiled at the idea that he already thought of it as “their” room—he moved toward the main entrance. He heard voices before he reached the doorway.

  “But listen here,” he heard Lisle say. “I’ve been with Farrell for a great many years. I’ve watched with a heavy heart at all the pain he’s shouldered without one word of complaint. I was there when they died: Zenora, Heminaltose, and Sanduval. I saw all the heartache of failed relationships, the few he’s attempted. He’s had more sadness in his young life than anyone ought to have.”

  Standing to the side, he couldn’t see them, but he knew they stood near the door. He felt a little guilty hiding but didn’t reveal himself.

  “Don’t let his pain be an impediment. It might take a bit of work, but I can tell you, he’s worth it.”

  “Lisle, I’ve known him all of a few days, and already I’m prepared to spend the rest of our considerably long lives together. I only hope he feels the same.”

  “I do.” Farrell spoke louder than he meant to. They both turned, making him blush furiously. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in, but I was coming to see what happened to you.”

  The awkward silence made him more embarrassed, so he reached for one of Miceral’s bags. “Let’s find a place for your things. Then I can show you around Haven.”

  He grabbed the first bag he came to, and every muscle in his torso strained with the effort. “Um, how many swords do you need? This feels like a dozen or more.”

  “If they packed everything, there are ten in that bag, along with a few other things. Isn’t there a better place than the bedroom?”

  “Yes indeed, boy, that stuff has no place in your bedroom.” Shaking her head in mock disbelief, Lisle pointed to the floor. “Leave them right where they are.”

  Farrell considered putting them in his workroom but decided against exposing Miceral to the dangers inside. Setting the bag down, he asked, “Won’t it be in your way here until we find a permanent home?”

  “No, I already cleaned in here. It’ll be fine for the time being. Speaking of swords, don’t you have practice about now?”

  “Drat. I’d hoped to skip that.” Farrell never felt in the mood for Master Thomas, let alone today.

  “No!” Lisle and Miceral said together. Farrell turned from one to the other, trying to figure out their motives. Lisle just shook her head. He knew why she wanted him to go—he’d be out of her way—but Miceral’s insistence stymied him. Farrell had thought they’d spend the day together.

  “I want to go with you,” Miceral said in response to Farrell’s questioning stare. “I didn’t know you trained with regular weapons.”

  Farrell picked up a different bag and moved toward the bedroom. “My mother and Master Heminaltose insisted I learn. Magic might be a devastating weapon, but it has its drawbacks. Other wizards can sense when you use it, and it is draining, as you’ve seen.”

  “True, but you can’t take down a shield with just a sword.”

  Smirking, he gave Miceral a wink. “Depends on the sword and who created the shield.”

  “I’ll defer to your wisdom, oh mighty wizard.” Bowing playfully, Miceral darted back just before Farrell could swat him. “So can I come with you?”

  “You had to ask?” Anywhere not dangerous, Miceral could go with him. “Just don’t make fun of me, please. I’m so far below your level.”

  “I might give you some pointers, but otherwise I’ll be good.” He opened the long, heavy bag and removed three swords. “Ready when you are.”

  Miceral coming to practice almost made Farrell eager to go. He started changing into suitable clothing when Lisle walked into the room. Her proclivity for going anywhere, anytime without asking or knocking might be an issue now that Miceral lived here too. He’d have to speak to her about it.

  “Maybe you should skip this room until I can add another to store Miceral’s things.” He looked pointedly at her, hoping she’d take a hint and leave. “I’ll speak to Erstad after class about creating more space.”

  “Gracious me, boy, you’re always trying to live in a pigsty.” Clearly, the subtle approach failed. “There’s no way I’m going to let it go, so don’t think that having a guest lets you go back to being messy. Humph.”

  As Lisle cleared the breakfast dishes, Farrell noticed she smiled more than usual today. Half-dressed when she returned, he started to blush.

  “Child, you act like I haven’t seen you all undressed any number of times. Just do what you always do. Pretend I’m not here.” She plucked his leather jerkin from the bed and held it out. “This does not go on the bed. Ever!”

  Taking the well-used vest, he acknowledged his mistake with a nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It was bad enough when it was ju
st you, but do you really think your guest wants that smelly thing where he needs to sleep?”

  “No,” he said, keeping his eyes down. “It won’t happen again.”

  He quickly left and put the leather shirt by the front door. Slipping into his study, he dashed off a note for Erstad, explaining he wanted to expand his rooms—again. As he exited his study, Lisle left the bedroom and walked toward him.

  “While I’m gone, would you see that someone takes this to Erstad? I doubt he’ll need me, but if he does, he knows where I am.”

  “He’ll not need you, but you best hurry along or Master Thomas really will beat you for being late.” She mussed up his hair slightly.

  Holding his swords, Miceral waited in the foyer. Farrell grabbed his vest and ran his hand through his still-damp hair. “He’ll need to go through Miceral if wants to beat me now.” He stuck his tongue out at her before opening the door.

  “Children.” Lisle turned and headed back toward the bedroom.

  Farrell pulled the door shut and nodded to the left. “This way.”

  “If Master Thomas wants to give you a thrashing because you’re late, don’t look to me for help. I’m not to interfere, remember?” Miceral snickered when Farrell scowled at him. “Where’s your sword?”

  Farrell pulled a three-foot sword from his right pocket. When he saw the look on Miceral’s face, he said, “Endless pocket. Wesfazial put them on most of my pants. I can carry around as much stuff as I need, and it doesn’t weigh an ounce.”

  “Bet that’s useful.”

  “Very.” He realized Miceral watched him more than their route. “Are you paying attention? Because if you let Master Thomas abuse me, I’m going to make you walk back to our rooms alone.”

  Farrell hastened their pace, hoping to be on time. Several levels down, they entered a large open space. An older man in a worn but well-kept leather jerkin stood slashing back and forth with a plain sword. He wore his steel-gray hair pulled back in a short ponytail, banded with several small cords. Metal greaves on his forearms did nothing to hide the scars that spoke of a lifetime of swordplay.

  Master Thomas stared at Miceral before bowing his head an inch.