Face contorted in pain, he clutched his injured shoulder. “Yup, should have listened to the healer. Magic equals bad right about now.” Having gained their attention, he rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
As a group, they avoided his gaze. When they came closer, he raised a hand and let Miceral help him to his feet. “First, don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I was stabbed in the shoulder, not the ears or brain. Second, why are you yelling at them? It was my lack of skill and stamina that got me hurt.”
Scanning their faces, he shook his head. “Finally, there’ll be no repercussions. None. I’m still Lord of Haven, not any of you. No one is pulling rank here except me. And I’m going to take a nap. When I wake up, everything better be just like it is now.”
The four wizards stared at him but were now calmer. With
Miceral’s help, he collected his things. When he glanced up again, Erstad looked pleased, Wesfazial grumpy, Glendora still mad at Miceral, and Cylinda nowhere in sight.
Erstad almost clapped him on the shoulder, stopping himself just in time. “Lord of Haven?” He raised a bushy eyebrow.
“I . . . um . . . well . . .”
The elder wizard gave him a broad smile. “That was a good thing you did for Master Thomas. He’s always been fiercely loyal to you and your house. I’m proud of you for standing by him. But perhaps we ought to rethink further weapons training.”
“Or perhaps I ought to recognize I need more practice and work harder.” He glared at Erstad, daring him to say something different. “Today was actually fun. Miceral helped me see what Master Thomas has been trying to teach me but I’ve been too stupid to recognize. Now that I see things clearer, I realize I need to work harder. Miceral can help me train. He’s amazing. Think you can add a practice area to our quarters?”
“Our quarters?” Wesfazial growled. “Known each other what, four days now, and you’ve moved in together? Moving a bit fast, wouldn’t you say?”
Farrell did something he couldn’t remember doing before. He snapped at his former teacher. “No, we’re not moving too fast, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pry into my private life.”
Erstad’s eyes shot daggers at his colleague. “We can talk about that request later, but if you don’t mind the suggestion, it would be better if you continued your practice here.” He held up his hand to silence any protest. “Miceral is on a level you’re not accustomed to facing. Sort of like you and an entry-level wizard. You can learn enormously from him, but if he loses his concentration, he can easily hurt you like he did today. There is always a healer on duty here in case that happens.”
Farrell looked to Miceral before he answered. “Agreed. Can we use your Door to go back to our room? That little voice spell hurt almost as much as getting stabbed.”
“Of course.” Erstad nodded his agreement. “Let me change the location to your workroom.”
Farrell reached for his vest, only to have Miceral push his hand away. “I’ll get it. You just worry about yourself.”
“I’m not broken, and you’re not to blame.” Farrell almost used a spell to snatch it from Miceral but settled for glaring at him instead.
Miceral nodded but quickly turned away. Rather than press the issue, Farrell leaned over and kissed his cheek.
The area between the lines shimmered as Erstad opened a Door into Farrell’s workroom. The lights came on, and Farrell groaned before he could stop himself. Miceral nearly dropped his things, but Farrell held up a hand.
“I’m fine. The lights tried to draw energy from me, that’s all.”
The trio walked carefully, stepping around the mess. Books and scrolls lay open on workbenches, debris from various tasks lay on the floor, jars sat open, and staves lay scattered about the floor.
“We really need to work on this room. It’s a hazard to anyone who enters.” Erstad’s scowl grew as he looked around. “I’m assigning you an assistant to help with this. ‘Lord of Haven’ or not, this has to be better kept.”
“Yes, sir.” He wanted to keep it in better order, but with all the demands of running Haven, cleaning his workroom remained a low priority. As they exited his workspace, Farrell had an inspiration.
“Miceral, do you think Horgon would be willing to act as first minister of Haven?”
“You want him to be what?”
“Part of the reason my workroom is so messy is I don’t have time anymore.” He waited for Erstad to make a comment. Instead, the older man shook his head and looked down. “King Clement of Endor served that function after Sanduval was killed. Clement died at Respital, and none of the other monarchs in exile are suitable for the position.”
Erstad snorted. “That didn’t stop them from offering their services.”
“True.” Farrell pushed aside the unpleasant memories of telling each of them, “No, thank you.”
“But back to Horgon. If he accepts and it works out, it would free me up to do things I really need to do, instead of deciding who gets what new space or who has rights to the cheese trade.”
Miceral blinked as if being pulled from a deep thought. “Father and I aren’t exactly close, but I’ll ask him. If nothing else, I think he’ll be pleased you asked.”
Hopefully, Horgon would agree. “So, Master Erstad, did you get my note?”
“I did, and though Wesfazial is a bit too blunt sometimes, I agree with him. Aren’t you moving a bit too fast? Adding rooms to your apartment for someone you met a few days ago? That’s not like you. No offense, Miceral, you’re a fine lad and a worthy mate, but four days is not a commitment ceremony in the making.”
Erstad looked ready for an attack, but Farrell felt calmer in his own quarters. “You raise a point we discussed already. Honorus told me I’d meet Miceral. He didn’t say by name, but He meant Miceral. He told me the one I met would be the one who would end my solitude and loneliness.”
Nodding at his side, Miceral spoke before Erstad could reply. “Lenore told me the same, only with more details. She told me I would know him because Nerti would choose him to be her rider. A bit more specific than what Honorus told Farrell.”
“Well, She is the mother of us all.” Erstad laughed.
“But besides those rather obvious signs, this feels right.” Farrell wanted to grab Miceral’s hand, but Miceral still carried his things. Just the idea he could hold his hand made him smile.
Miceral nodded before heading to his bags. Farrell took back his sword as Miceral put his away. Before Miceral could protest, he slid the sword back into his endless pocket. Noting the blood on his pants, he shrugged.
“Guess I’d better bathe before going to bed.” He was moving to fill the tub when Erstad’s voice called out.
“Farrell!” Farrell turned to find his mentor scowling at him. “No magic! I’ll take care of the bath. You go change.”
Miceral picked up the damaged leather shirt, but Erstad held out his hand.
“I’ll take that. If you two are going to spar, I’m going to add a few magical protections to this after it’s repaired so we don’t have a repeat of today’s episode or worse.” He smiled and gave Farrell a nod. “Go bathe while I look over your expansion plans.”
Farrell heard the water running, and he quickly undressed. The healer had cleaned up most of the blood on his torso, but he had blood everywhere below the waist. Noting the look of pain on Miceral’s face, he made directly for the bathing chamber.
He slipped into the hot water and sank to his neck, letting the heat soothe his muscles. In the background, he could hear Miceral and Erstad talking. When the tone turned angry, he used a whiff of magic to enhance his hearing. Even that small spell sent a jolt of pain through his damaged shoulder.
“I helped raise that boy, and if there were any other option, I would move the ends of the earth to find it. So don’t you dare come here and think you can judge me and the others just because you two shared a night of passion.”
“I am one hundred and twenty-nine, so yo
u may as well stop calling me ‘lad’ and realize I only look young. Say what you like, but most of what I said is true. You admitted as much yourself. Some of your concern is that you need him to be okay so he can face Meglar. It’s ghoulish and you know it. The sad part is, he knows it, too. It’s why he doesn’t want to commit to anyone. He’s afraid he won’t survive and he’ll end up hurting someone else like he’s been hurt. But I plan to make sure he knows I’m not going anywhere. I’ll risk getting hurt if it means I get to spend my time with him now. Call me selfish, but I hope he never has to face Meglar. But I won’t tell him that, nor will I try to talk him out of it. He’s accepted his responsibility, and I’m going to support him any way I can.”
Farrell cut the spell, wishing he’d never used it. Leaning back, he closed his eyes. He knew he should push Miceral away, but he couldn’t. He’d waited for Miceral his whole life.
“Honorus.” He whispered his prayer so the others didn’t hear him. “You sent him to me; now help me find a way to win this war.”
Farrell stood and almost used magic to dispel the water from his body. Grumbling, he left a trail of water behind him as he walked over to the shelf with the towels. Once dry, he wrapped the soft cotton around his waist and went in search of Miceral and Erstad. Following their voices, he found them in the study, looking over a set of plans.
Unlike the workroom, he let Lisle kept the study neat and orderly. Books lined three sides of the space. Erstad laid a drawing on top of the large oak desk that took up most of the fourth wall.
“This is nice, Farrell.” Miceral motioned around the room. “When I get a chance to unpack, I’ll add my books to your collection.”
Erstad looked a bit miffed, but Farrell took comfort in the fact they had worked together on the plans.
“If I understood you correctly, you want to add a couple of small rooms. Putting aside the request for a place to practice, you want a closet and storage room for his weapons and armor.”
“That’s part of what I want, but my other thought is for something like the sitting room, only not so stuffy or proper.” He stared at the plans, trying to envision how to explain what he wanted. “Can’t we add something off the music room, just for us to enjoy? Or maybe add to the music room so there’s more room to just relax?”
Shaking his head, Erstad pointed to the sketch. “A master musician designed your music room to perfect the acoustics. Adding to the room or building off of it will upset that balance. Your choices are to add the room off the formal sitting area or here, in the right corner of your bedroom. It depends on how private you want it to be.”
Farrell looked at Miceral for guidance. “Not sure how much help I can be since I haven’t seen the formal room yet.”
“What have you two been doing that you couldn’t show him the few rooms of your apartment?” Erstad asked, then held up both
hands. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.”
“No worries, Master Erstad. We weren’t going to tell you,” Miceral said. “Getting back to the task at hand, of the two, my suggestion is to add it off our room, not the formal sitting area. Placing it in the common area would allow someone to wander into our space if left unattended.”
Farrell nodded. “I agree. Will that work okay?”
“It should work fine.” Erstad shrugged. “Though we may need to widen your bedroom a bit to accommodate a hall and a closet if you insist on keeping that monstrosity of a bed you have.”
Farrell waved his hand quickly over the drawing. “Oh no, don’t even think about messing with my bed. I might need to get a bigger one now that I’m sharing it.”
Erstad looked toward Miceral, who shook his head. “The bed doesn’t need changing.”
Rolling his eyes, Erstad feigned a frown. After Farrell shrugged, Erstad turned his attention back to the desk. He passed his right hand over the drawings, and the lines came to life. Soon he produced a miniature model of the apartment on top of the paper. Using a small wand he pulled from his pocket, the elder wizard pointed at and prodded his model.
When he finished the diagram, it showed the bedroom expanded by six feet to the right, and a door appeared to the right of the bed with a closet carved out behind the wall. “I think it’s best to put your storage room in the rear of the closet. Better use of space and not as visible.”
Miceral nodded, then asked, “Are there other rooms adjacent to ours?”
“Nothing even close.” Erstad laughed. “Farrell selected a remote area of Haven for his rooms. Makes it harder for folks to just ‘drop by,’ and he said he wanted room to expand, if needed.” They both cast Farrell a quizzical look.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He raised his left index finger. “First, I knew my workspace would need to be expanded. And it has been, I might point out. Then there was the issue of how many times I would need to entertain people. And yes, finally, even then I dreamed of finding someone special to share my space with. Is that so terrible?”
“No, not in the least.” Erstad gently messed up Farrell’s hair. “It’s just you already have the biggest apartment in Haven, and we’re adding to it. You can take the prince out of the castle, but you can’t take the need for a castle out of the prince.”
Farrell sneered at this, causing both men to laugh. “Ha-ha-ha, laugh away. So glad everyone finds it so easy to make a joke at my expense.”
“Mmm.” Erstad pointed at the model. “Back to the expansion of Castle Farrell.”
Miceral snickered, drawing a glare from Farrell. Erstad focused on the drawing. “Do you want the room set back off a hallway or just a door leading to the room?”
They looked at each other, shrugged, and answered at the same time.
“Hallway.”
“Just a door.”
Farrell and Miceral immediately switched positions to agree with the other.
“Children,” Erstad said with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll decide. Just a door to the room. No hallway.” He moved the wand about, and the model shifted to show a fair-sized room appear. As wide as the length of their bedroom, it stretched back to run parallel to the sitting room and music room. “That ought to satisfy you, oh Prince of the Bigger Space.”
“How long will it take to complete?” Miceral asked.
Focused on the model, Farrell didn’t acknowledge the question. He linked with Erstad and began the spell to create the new rooms. When he opened his eyes, Farrell winced in pain and grabbed his shoulder. The model sank back into the drawings, and Erstad frowned.
“Boy, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I knew better than to let you work magic right after being healed.” He looked at
Miceral and said, “Take him inside and see that he lies down.”
Farrell’s shoulder throbbed and he felt dizzy. Miceral put an arm around his waist, and he let himself be guided back to the bedroom. Miceral gently swept him off his feet and set him down on the mattress.
“One benefit of having a Muchari for a lover. You sure are strong,” he whispered, and fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the mattress.
After a restless sleep, his throbbing shoulder woke him. A quick scan of the apartment identified the source of his pain.
He pushed back the covers, grabbed his staff, and set off to find Miceral. The lights in the wall sconces flickered for an instant as he passed, causing brief twinges of pain as he denied the attempts to draw energy from his body. Instead, he touched the sconces with his staff, fueling the lights with power from the black wood rather than himself.
Tucked in the far-left corner of the formal sitting room, a short hallway led to the music room. He found Miceral sitting on a bench next to a window pouring sunlight into the room.
“Like the view, handsome?”
Miceral jerked, nearly dropping the tankard and his sandwich. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Miceral tried to help him to a seat, but Farrell waved him off. “I’m fine.”
“You look pale, and your wound look
s redder than when you went to sleep.” The concern on his face made Farrell lean over and kiss him.
“That’s because I used magic in my sleep.”
“What?”
Farrell put a finger to Miceral’s lips.
“I didn’t mean to, but it is the nature of my . . . our apartment. Everything requires magic. The tap in the bathroom and the lights in these rooms require energy. If no other wizard is around, they’re keyed to me. Powering the spells is what caused the pain that woke me up. Don’t worry. You couldn’t have known.”
Miceral let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I guess I need to be more careful around you. I had no idea— ”
“I know.” He gave Miceral a quick kiss. “How could you have known? I’ll make sure to figure out a different system now that you’re living here.”
“Let me get you a sandwich and some juice.” Miceral didn’t wait for an answer. He returned with a tray of food and another tankard.
Farrell grabbed a sandwich, even though he didn’t feel hungry. He ate anyway, to keep up his energy to speed along the healing process.
“I’m really sorry about your shoulder.” Miceral frowned and turned away. “I was so focused on the exercise, I failed to notice how tired you were. Good thing it wasn’t serious.”
Farrell took another bite, followed by a sip of apple juice. Given how upset Miceral was, Farrell was glad his injury wasn’t serious.
“I know you blame yourself, but don’t. You couldn’t know how tired I was. Had I said something, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Why is everything your fault to you? Wasn’t there enough blame to go around for us all?” Miceral asked quietly.
“I suppose you’re right.” He didn’t want to argue about it. When he saw Miceral look out the window again, he decided to change topics.
“It’s not real, you know.” He nodded toward the window. “It’s an illusion of sorts. One day, I climbed the western slopes of these mountains and cut a window into the rock. Then I exchanged views. When you look out this window, you see what you would see as if you were standing on the mountain. Of course, if someone stood on the mountain and looked into the window, they’d see us.”
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 13