Miceral stared at him for several seconds. “You swear that’s all these are capable of? Just letting us speak to each other?”
“Capable of? No, they’re capable of being used to do a lot more. But it won’t give me any powers I don’t already have. In fact, it’ll give you power over me that you don’t have now.”
Miceral raised an eyebrow but kept quiet. Farrell took this as an invitation to keep going.
“With this you’ll be able to enter my mind, and if your will is strong enough, you’d be able to control me. It would require significant amounts of training to do that, but it’s possible. So I’m really the one who’s giving up something. Of course it’ll only work on me, but then, who else would you want to try to seduce with it?”
Miceral smiled, letting Farrell relax a bit. When Miceral turned toward Klissmor, Farrell felt Nerti’s touch in his mind.
“Klissmor seeks to sway him to accept your gift.” Nerti’s words helped calm him. “It’s a good idea. Miceral will come to understand that.”
When Miceral turned toward the water, Farrell assumed his conversation with Klissmor had ended.
“Miceral?” He waited for Miceral to turn his way. “You know that I would never violate your privacy?”
Miceral reached over for his hand. Running his thumb gently over Farrell’s fingers, he flashed one of his most disarming smiles. “Trusting you is easy. I don’t even have to think about it. I see the benefits in your gift as well as the trust you have in me. I’m sorry if I overreacted. It must seem like I’m questioning your motives, and that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”
Farrell quickly shook his head. “I never thought that, Ral. To nonwizards, magic can be daunting. Meglar’s living proof of what can happen when a wizard misuses his power. All I wanted was for you to hear me out, which you did. Whatever you decide, I’m already happy.”
Glancing at the two very interested unicorns, Miceral reached out for the amulet. “Magic unnerves me, but not when the wizard is you. Every day I see how much you love me. It just took me a moment to realize this was another example of that love.”
Farrell fixed his gaze on the gift. “There’s another benefit to wearing this. It will block anyone else from entering your mind. But . . .” He held it up and away from Miceral’s hand. “Before I give it to you, there is something you have to know. Once we link them, neither of us will be able to remove ours without the other’s consent. This protects us both. Even unconscious I could find you through our link. We both must agree or neither can come off. The only exception is if one of us dies. Then the link is severed.”
Bending his head closer to Farrell, Miceral smiled. “I already know I’m going to spend my life with you. This is not a hard decision. Besides, Klissmor told me this is a good thing, and I know better than to argue with him.”
Klissmor nudged Miceral with a hoof, but both unicorns appeared amused. Farrell slipped the amulet over Miceral’s head and brushed aside the hair to make sure it rested on his neck. Before Miceral could tuck it inside his tunic, Farrell pulled the mate from his chest and touched the two together. A spark flared from the pair, followed by a constant glow.
“This is the fun part.” Farrell smirked, getting a laugh from Miceral. “You need to kiss me while they are touching to link them.”
Miceral rolled his eyes but maintained his smile. “There’s no way to link them other than a kiss?”
“Of course there are, but those we need to do in private.” They both laughed, careful not to separate their necklaces. Miceral bent forward and gently pressed his lips to Farrell’s. The faint glow grew brighter, pulsed twice, and winked out. Their kiss lasted well after the light disappeared.
Turning the ivory circle over in his hand, Miceral carefully tucked it inside his tunic. “Can I speak to you mind to mind now?”
“You’ll need to learn how to make it work. I made sure it wasn’t an open link. Otherwise I’d hear every thought you have until you learn to control it. Much as there are times I would like to know what you’re thinking, only a fool would consider that’s a good thing.”
Nerti and Klissmor nodded their agreement, getting a laugh from the pair. “So how do I make it work?”
“Like I said, it’s the same as talking to Klissmor. Just think of me and send me your thoughts.”
“That’s it?” Miceral said.
“Ask me without saying it.” Farrell watched Miceral’s eyes grow wider. “My voice sounds different when I speak into your mind.”
“Very!”
“That’s normal.” Farrell gave him a wink to let Miceral know he’d been successful. “But try not to yell. Just do it in a normal voice.”
“What’s— ?” Miceral’s hand flew to his mouth. “What’s a normal voice?”
“What you did just now.” Farrell stood up and offered his hand to Miceral. “Let’s gather our things and head back. The Six only know what Erstad and Wesfazial are doing in my absence.”
They collected the remains of their meal and began the ride back to Haven. As they rode home, Farrell and the unicorns worked with Miceral on speaking with his mind. Miceral quickly mastered the technique of slipping from spoken to mental speech, speaking to Farrell as easily as Farrell spoke to Nerti.
“However,” Farrell said, “I prefer we speak out loud unless we need to be silent. I like hearing you with my ears.”
“Glad to hear you appreciate my fine voice.”
“I do, except when you sing,” he said with a smirk. “You have many gifts, but singing is definitely not one of them.”
“Hey!” Miceral puffed out his chest. He paused a moment, his face letting Farrell know Klissmor was speaking to him. “I have a fine singing voice, despite what you and this pointy-nosed horse say.”
Klissmor nearly tossed Miceral from his seat.
“Fine, I’ll prove it.” He launched into a song so off-key Farrell cringed.
After a few bars, he knew Miceral intentionally sang terribly. Not to be outdone, Farrell joined him, doing his best to be equally off-key. As they approached the pass, singing badly and laughing at each other, the guard at the northeast corner came to attention with a sour look on his face. They laughed harder, each accusing the other’s voice of causing the soldier’s pained expression.
When they rounded the pass onto the plains, Farrell instantly went rigid in his seat, his good mood gone. Ahead of them, a column of horses rode hard, kicking up a cloud of dust. Detection spells told him what his eyes could see; someone had found Haven. And they rode straight for the eastern gate.
Chapter Fourteen
NERTI DIDN’T need to be asked to go faster. Klissmor matched her burst as they raced in tandem to catch up to the newcomers. Scanning the riders with his wizard’s sight, Farrell detected no wizards. How had they gotten here without one?
“Ral, I’m going to magically enhance my sight. Do you want me to include you?”
“Yes!” Miceral shouted into his mind.
Ignoring the pain, he included his partner in his spell. Approximately thirty horsemen galloped hard for the eastern gate. Beyond them, a large contingent of soldiers from Haven waited in front of the now-closed gate. At the center of Haven’s forces, Wesfazial looked serious but not worried.
“Nerti, can you tell Wesfazial where we are and find out what’s happening?”
She didn’t respond, nor did she ease back from her blistering pace. A burn in his lungs told him he was holding his breath. Letting it out, he concentrated on the riders slowly coming closer.
“Wesfazial said they are messengers from Honal. Now that we’ve returned, he asks that we join him with all possible speed.”
“Can we overtake them?” Miceral’s voice carried to him over their link.
“We will not reach Wesfazial before they arrive. Their lead is too great.” For all that he ran, Klissmor’s voice remained measured and calm. “But it will be close.”
“I can fix that.” Farrell got a mental lock on Klissm
or. “Angle to their left. I don’t want to be attacked when I pull us closer to the gate.” Waiting until they changed course, Farrell pulled them halfway across the plains in the blink of an eye. Riding as if nothing had happened, the group trailed the fast-tiring horses by only a hundred yards.
Nerti kept to her pace, quickly drawing even with their guests. She led them north, heading directly for Wesfazial and the others. Safely ahead of the Honalese cavalry, Farrell leaned forward, enjoying the feel of the air whipping around him. Glancing left, he flashed Miceral a playful grin, then urged Nerti faster. He felt a mental laugh just before she lurched ahead of her mate.
Over his shoulder, he saw Klissmor’s head bob as he sought to match her speed. Their race brought them to the gate well ahead of the Honalese riders.
“Nice entrance, lad.” Wesfazial smirked. “We had the unicorns and peregrines remain inside to keep them secret, but there’s no helping them seeing you four.”
“What in Honorus’s name are they doing here?” Farrell made to dismount, but Nerti stopped him.
“As Prince of Haven, you must meet them mounted.”
He looked over to Miceral, who nodded his agreement.
“Not really sure.” Wesfazial’s voice drew his attention. “We received a message from Cylinda that King Christian wanted to send a delegation to speak with you. We came out to greet them. Erstad is in the hills above us monitoring things, just to be sure everything is as it appears.”
“We passed nothing on our way home.” With Cylinda involved, Farrell didn’t suspect treachery. Still, it never hurt to be cautious.
Straightening his tunic, he turned his attention back to the Honalese. “They’ll be here soon enough. We’ll get our answers then.”
Nerti turned to face the approaching riders with Klissmor a pace behind her to the right. Wesfazial seemed content to stand with the soldiers. Farrell drew his staff and laid it across his lap.
“Show-off,” he heard the elder wizard mumble.
“Never hurts to let them know who and what I am,” Farrell said without looking back. To Miceral, he sent, “Move up beside me.”
“No, you rule here, not I. Your position must be clear.” Before he broke the link, he added, “I love you, my little wizard prince.”
It took all his will not to turn to Miceral and almost as much to keep a big grin from splitting his face. Maintaining his stoic appearance, Farrell readied a defensive spell despite Erstad’s presence above.
The riders slowed and came to a stop a few paces from Farrell. Nerti moved two steps closer.
“Greetings, riders of Honal. What brings you to Haven?” Farrell scanned the group and locked on a dark-haired man in the center. The air of authority and the way the others looked to him told Farrell this one led the delegation. When the man nudged his tired mount closer, Farrell smiled.
“On behalf of King Christian of Honal, I bring greetings to the people of Haven.” He bowed his head just enough to show respect but not enough to indicate that he thought Farrell outranked him. “I am Baron Glaus, and I bear a message for the Wizard Prince Farrell.”
“I am Grand Master Farrell.” Farrell kept his gaze locked on Glaus, daring the man to challenge him.
Glaus looked puzzled, glancing at Wesfazial before he bowed a second time, much lower. “Hail, Lord Farrell of Haven. Forgive me. I didn’t expect you would arrive from behind us.”
Farrell laughed. That might be one reason for Glaus’s confusion, but he knew the real one. “And you were expecting someone older, like my mentor Master Wesfazial.”
Glaus gave him a small smile but otherwise kept his composure. “That too, m’lord.”
Acknowledging the concession, Farrell nodded slightly. “This is no place to greet guests or discuss matters of importance.” He looked back to Wesfazial, who stepped forward. “Master Wesfazial will escort you into Haven. But before we part, allow me to introduce Queen Nerti and Klissmor, her mate.”
Nerti and Klissmor bowed their heads to the baron. His eyes widened as he realized the implications of what he heard. Bowing deeply, he held it long enough to satisfy protocol.
“Your Majesty, it is an honor beyond words.”
“We are pleased to meet you, Baron.” Nerti nodded again, clearly dismissing the man. Though she rarely invoked her title, when she did, Farrell felt small and inadequate by comparison.
“Fret not, little one. I’ve had millennia to perfect my appearance.”
“With that, Baron we must make ourselves ready for your visit.” Farrell bowed politely.
Wesfazial and the soldiers stepped forward before Glaus could answer. Nerti moved left, and, once clear of the crowd, Farrell opened a Door. The flash of light brought a gasp from several of the Honalese soldiers.
“Showing off?” Miceral sounded amused.
“Glaus questioned my authority, even if unintentionally. That small display should show I am what I say.”
On the way to their rooms, Farrell managed to tell a soldier to send a page to their apartment immediately. He filled the tub as he undressed, hoping Wesfazial would allow Glaus a moment to clean up and rest before bringing him to Farrell’s rooms. After washing quickly, he was pulling on suitable pants when he heard a knock on the door.
“Miceral?” He finished buttoning his pants and passed the bath chamber on his way to the door. “The page is here. Anything special I should ask for?”
“Nothing beyond the usual.”
Running his hand through his still-wet hair, he opened the door and froze. Horgon stood with Wesfazial, Erstad, Glaus, and someone Farrell didn’t recognize. Horgon threw him a sympathetic look while his mentors glared at him. Silently, he stepped back, allowing his guests to enter.
Horgon nodded for him to go, taking charge of things. “Wesfazial, didn’t I tell you they weren’t expecting us to come directly to their chambers? I believe you owe me a bottle of wine.”
“Figured the boy would have more sense than to come half-naked to the door,” the wizard grumbled.
“Go finish getting cleaned up.” Horgon nudged him toward the bedroom. “I’ll take our guests to the sitting room.”
Farrell took two steps and then spun around. “Horgon.” When he turned, Farrell motioned him closer. “I never got to order food and drink.”
“Ah, sorry.” Horgon cringed. “I intercepted the page and sent him back with orders for what to bring.”
Nodding, Farrell shut the door behind him. He scowled when he saw Miceral wrapped in a towel, smiling.
“Not the page, was it?” Miceral laughed.
“Be quiet or I’ll remove your clothes as soon as you enter the sitting room.” Staring, Farrell couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Or at least I’d think of doing it.”
“Sorry, but look at the goblet as half full—you weren’t still in a towel.” Miceral yanked his off for emphasis, nearly ripping it in the process. Laughing, Farrell pulled on a light tan silk tunic before searching for his boots.
“Staff or no staff?”
Miceral emerged from his closet holding a pale blue shirt. “Did Erstad or Wesfazial have one?”
“I think Wesfazial did, but he had his out front.” Turning the black staff over in his hand, he shrugged. “No staff. It might seem like I’m compensating for my embarrassing entrance.”
Miceral walked over, tunic still in hand. The amulet stuck to his skin at an odd angle. “Be yourself. You don’t need to impress anyone.” He kissed Farrell on the cheek and pulled his shirt over his head. “Let me get my boots and we can go.”
Miceral insisted Farrell lead the way, refusing to even hold his hand. Everyone sat as two pages set out food and drink. Farrell stood in the doorway and used the moment to look at the man seated next to Baron Glaus. Dressed in the scarlet livery of Honal, he appeared about Farrell’s age. Although Glaus did the talking, he deferred to the younger man. A moment later, the man nudged the baron and pointed toward Farrell and Miceral.
“Baron Glaus, sorry t
o keep you waiting.” Farrell moved into the room, heading for the couch across from their guests. “My apologies for greeting you as I did. You were . . . unexpectedly quick.”
“There was a lively debate among your advisors whether we should wait or not.” Glaus smiled, looking toward Horgon. “It appears your first minister was correct.”
Farrell laughed. “My first minister is Miceral’s father.” He then realized they didn’t know who Miceral was. Feeling the blood rush to his face, he glanced at Miceral, who didn’t seem upset. “My apologies again. I didn’t get a chance to introduce Miceral.” He didn’t know how to announce him, since the issue had never come up before. “My life-partner-to-be.”
The baron bowed politely. From the corner of his eye, he saw Horgon raise an eyebrow.
“Prince Farrell.” Glaus stood and turned to his companion. “May I present my cousin, Prince Kerstand of Honal.”
The younger man stood, his expression hard to read. To Farrell the prince seemed anxious and unhappy. Glaus whispered something from the side of his mouth, and Kerstand bowed respectfully.
“Prince Kerstand.” Farrell inclined his head. “An honor to meet you.”
“Thank you, Lord Farrell. The honor is mine. Cylinda spoke much of you.” A mischievous grin played on his face for a brief instant. “Like my cousin, I expected you to be much older.”
Farrell decided he liked Kerstand. He lacked the stiff demeanor of so many nobles. “Looks can be deceptive, Prince Kerstand. Miceral is more than a hundred years older than I. I’ll leave it for you to guess his true age.”
The small frown left Glaus’s face when Farrell winked at the prince. A page brought out a tray of drinks and served their guests first. When everyone had settled, he nodded for the two servants to leave.
“So, Baron, what brings you to Haven?” Farrell peered over his cup. Horgon would not have brought them directly from the gate unless the baron had asked. He saw no reason for small talk.
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 18