Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “In Belsport we are.” His polite tone sounded almost regretful.

  “My brother dislikes formal state dinners.” Alicia shrugged slightly and led them toward the food and drink. “Nothing I said could convince him this would be different. Unfortunately, since our mother died, he’s been withdrawn and doesn’t let anyone get close. Father hoped time would help, but there’s been little change since Mother’s death.”

  Peter glared at her. “Perhaps if you stopped speaking about me as if I weren’t here, I would be a bit more pleasant.”

  “My sympathies, Prince Peter.” Farrell used his title since Peter didn’t say otherwise. “I lost my parents when I was only a bit older than you. I understand that time only helps but so much.”

  “You think your loss makes you an expert on my feelings?” For a moment Farrell thought the teen might cry. “Should I bare my soul to you because you shared your loss with me?”

  For the first time since Farrell met her, Alicia looked angry. Glaring at her brother, she moved to stand in front of him. “If Father heard you speak to our guests like this, you’d be in serious trouble.”

  Rolling his eyes, Peter evaded his sister’s gaze. “What would he do? Banish me from this dinner I don’t want to attend?”

  “Perhaps I might, but it’s what I’d do later that should have you worried.” Wilhelm stood in the doorway, eyes tight and trained on his son.

  Peter dropped his gaze and moved toward Miceral and Farrell. “Please accept my apologies, Lord Farrell. I was inexcusably rude.”

  Holding out his hand, Farrell waited for Peter to look up. “If you get to know me better, you’ll realize I might have said worse if the situation was reversed.”

  Only when Peter tentatively clasped forearms did Farrell give him a conspiratorial wink. The corners of Peter’s mouth flirted with a smile before he suddenly winked back. He cast a tentative glance at his father, who gave him the barest of nods to end the situation.

  STAFF CLEARED away the remains of dinner, while others brought out coffee, liquor, and desserts. The variety of fish dishes brought back memories of Farrell’s youth in Yar-del, but he managed to enjoy all three helpings.

  “Convey my compliments to your chef,” he said. “I don’t recall when I enjoyed a meal that much.”

  “During the meal, I received an urgent plea from my chef to take away your utensils.” Wilhelm shrugged as the others laughed. “He ignored my warnings about your appetite and was in danger of running out of food.”

  Used to being chided for the amount he ate, Farrell laughed as well. “If my chefs at Haven were that good, I’d be in danger of getting fat, wizard or not.”

  Wilhelm stood up and selected a crystal decanter holding an amber liquor. After pouring a generous amount into a short-stemmed snifter, he held the bottle out to the others. “Brandy? It’s quite excellent.” Only Darius accepted, and the prince poured another for his chief advisor. “Please, help yourselves to whatever you desire. I had this coffee specifically selected for you, Farrell. If you like it, I’ll have a wagonload sent to Haven.”

  Shooting Alicia a frown, Farrell moved to where the coffee sat ready. “Alicia told you about my exploits in the market, did she?”

  “In fairness to my daughter, she has the heart of a merchant.”

  “So I learned today.” Farrell’s sour expression turned to a smile when he took a sip. “Then again, if she saved me from buying the other beans so I could get these, I owe her a debt of gratitude.”

  “It pained me to deflate his good mood.” Alicia’s fake sympathy drew another scowl. “But when I learned the terms of his ‘deal,’ I knew I had to step in. The price for what the merchant offered to sell Prince Farrell was nothing short of robbery.”

  “How can you say that?” Miceral joined Farrell, nudging him gently. “It’s not that merchant’s fault Farrell jumped at his first offer.”

  “Are you two finished?” Spinning, Farrell walked away from his partner. “The quality was better than the stuff I get now, and the price was lower. I thought I was getting a great deal. It’s clear I need to speak to my steward and find out why I’m paying so much for something so average.”

  “Perhaps we can work something into a broader trade agreement between our two nations.” Wilhelm’s light tone did nothing to allay Farrell’s suspicions his host had more in mind than just trade. “Were you to import large quantities for sale in Haven, you would add considerably to your treasury.”

  “Careful, Farrell.” Miceral’s voice in his mind nearly caused him to jump. “I’ll bet my sword arm this is the real reason for tonight’s dinner.”

  Smiling over his cup as if Miceral hadn’t spoken to him, Farrell nodded. “I’ll be sure to bring it up with Horgon when we return.”

  “Of course.” Wilhelm returned the nod. “Darius informs me you are close to lands with superior timber and other resources, such as iron and other metals. A steady supply of quality timber would be of great interest to Belsport.”

  “I can see how that would be the case.” Farrell chose his words carefully. “Negotiating a broader trade agreement, however, might prove more difficult than you expect.”

  “Why?” Taking a sip from his glass, Wilhelm reminded Farrell of the old merchants who used to bicker with his mother during court session.

  “To understand why, you need to understand the oddity that is Haven. As a collection of refugees from the conquered kingdoms, there are craftsman and artisans from five different nations. We have five sets of blacksmiths, coopers, cobblers, tanners, tailors, cheesemakers, and every other profession that make goods for sale to a demanding populace. Craftsmen are able to peddle their wares anywhere in Haven. This, of course, played havoc on the merchant and artisan class.”

  Another sip and the prince raised an eyebrow. “Interesting, I hadn’t considered that the once-insular local blacksmith would suddenly have to compete with so many others.”

  Farrell nodded. “You see the problem. The more ambitious and enterprising merchants were able to grow wealthy at the expense of those who clung to the old notion that each village needed its own set of every craftsmen. If I were to import products of superior quality from you, it would only further reduce the lot of those already suffering from the increased competition of so many rival artisans.”

  “It is admirable that you seek to protect your people as you do, but here is the counterargument to that.” Wilhelm smiled, clearly in his element. “Free trade would force those with inferior skills to seek employment elsewhere, either in a new profession or to join the shops of superior tradesmen here at Belsport or beyond. Some could act as your middlemen. Others could find a niche catering to those who cannot afford the higher quality goods we offer. Free trade would enhance more lives than it would damage, as all would have access to superior products.”

  “I told you this would happen,” Miceral said.

  Farrell ignored his partner. “Prince Wilhelm, all you say might be true, but as I warned you, negotiating a trade agreement with Haven means dealing with five different people. Lord Horgon has a keener mind for these issues. He would be the one to handle the details.”

  Smirking, Wilhelm nodded to Darius. “Darius told me you

  wouldn’t negotiate this yourself, but I felt I should try anyway.”

  Wilhelm’s admission reminded Farrell they might be on friendly terms, but Belsport’s prince had no qualms about taking advantage of him if he could.

  “I see my remark troubles you,” Wilhelm said, studying Farrell’s face.

  “Troubles is the wrong word, Prince Wilhelm. It reminds me friendships end where duty begins.” Farrell knew his words bordered on an insult, but he didn’t appreciate the attempt to maneuver him into an unfavorable agreement.

  Wilhelm’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened for a brief moment before a practiced smile crossed the older man’s face. “Well said. My apologies. It is often said merchants can be friends or partners but never both.”

 
“Allies are both,” Miceral added.

  “Agreed, Lord Miceral.” Wilhelm let out his breath louder than normal, and he looked across the table to Darius. From the corner of his eye, Farrell saw the gray-haired wizard nod. The silent signal seemed to be enough for Wilhelm to continue. “Yesterday, you mentioned helping us with shielding and energy collection. Are you still willing to discuss those topics, or did you want them to be part of a broader trade agreement?”

  Never looking over, Farrell reached out mentally to Miceral. “I don’t see any reason not to talk about it, do you? My plan was to give it to them at no cost.”

  “Then their trader mentality is going to net us a tidy sum for your skills.” Miceral’s mental voice held a hint of glee.

  Turning to Darius first, Farrell noted the anxiety in the man’s body language. “I see no harm in discussing the theoretical workings of magic.”

  A soft sigh from Peter drew an angry glare from the prince. “My son’s lack of interest aside, I’m pleased you are so inclined.”

  “Prince Wilhelm,” Miceral said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Should we move beyond a general discussion, this knowledge will not be cheap. Rare objects are always costly.”

  “Perhaps . . .” Wilhelm stared into his snifter before taking a sip. “If you let Farrell explain what he proposes, Darius and I can better value what is offered.”

  “Keep the specifics to a minimum,” Miceral said before Farrell could speak.

  “Darius, could you create an image of the city, including the harbor, on the table?” Farrell asked. After a moment of concentration, Darius transformed the top of the table into a scale model of Belsport, including the moat.

  “Excellent.” Farrell removed a small wand from his pocket and stood. “Typically, shields are limited to individuals given the power needed to maintain them. For larger areas, such as cities, wizards band together to create and maintain the protective wall. Obviously, the larger the area, the greater the power required.” He saw nods of understanding from around the table.

  Waving the slim piece of wood, he created the image of a half globe encasing the city. “A shield is weakened when someone applies force against it. The greater the force used, the greater the drain on the power that created the shield. If enough force is applied, the supply of energy available to maintain the shield cannot be replenished fast enough and the shield collapses.” He projected an attack on the shield, and the shimmering wall disappeared with a flash.

  Peter, despite seeming bored a moment ago, had moved closer to the model and gasped along with his sister when the shield dispersed.

  Farrell’s wink brought a smile to the teen’s face as he moved even closer.

  “Generating a shield by means of some object is called artificial shielding.” Another quick movement and a beam of light erupted from the center of the model, renewing the protective dome. “The drawback to this method is the inability to judge the remaining strength accurately and to shore it up as needed.”

  This time when the shield exploded, Peter grinned at Farrell.

  “It seems you have my son’s undivided attention,” Wilhelm said, smiling at his guest.

  “The first shield I tried at Northhelm, I infused a piece of Cytus wood with enough energy to generate a strong shield.” Tapping the table, he raised a third shield, green this time, to surround the image of the city. “It was able to draw energy from its surroundings, giving it a bit more life. Eventually, Meglar overwhelmed this shield by hurling massive balls of concussive energy across thousands of miles while his wizards attacked from the ground.”

  Two sizzling black balls appeared from his outstretched hand, and the shield shattered a third time.

  “He destroyed that shield all the way from Zargon?” Darius’s wide eyes focused on the “city” before him.

  “No.” Farrell shook his head. “He tried for two days to defeat it from Zargon, without success. Only when he sent some of his more senior wizards to coordinate an attack did the shield finally fail.”

  “Couldn’t you . . . make it stronger?” Peter turned from the model to Farrell.

  “That’s a problem with most artificial shielding. Once it’s in place, you can’t strengthen it without turning it off.” Farrell noted Darius’s questioning stare.

  “Just before the first shield exploded, I erected a second, more powerful one.” This time he didn’t add a new shield to the image.

  “What he’s not telling you, is that if it didn’t work, he’d have died.” Miceral’s tone told everyone how he felt about what Farrell had done.

  “The idea was sound, and the need was great, so I used it. And, as Miceral said, it worked quite well. With a few modifications, that is what I’m offering Belsport.”

  He moved his wand to create numerous dots of light around the city. “The new shield would be created from multiple energy streams around the city. Each spot would have a large stone infused with energy that would generate a stream of power slightly different from the other points.”

  Farrell waved his hand, and all the points erupted into fountains of energy that came together directly above the center of the city. From where the beams met, a dome of multicolored energy cascaded down to enclose Belsport.

  “That’s quite impressive.” Darius sounded skeptical. “But ignoring how strong it would be, the power demands to raise a shield of that size would be prohibitive.”

  Smiling at the older wizard, Farrell turned off the display. “Forget everything you think you know about artificial shield creation. This is different. Once this is properly powered, you would need a Source and at least one grand master wizard working with a cadre of master wizards to even try to breach this shield.”

  Pointing at the city image, Farrell recreated the energy streams, keeping them halfway to their apex. “By modulating the energy in each stone and merging them into one beam, I get a shield that’s not only stronger by several factors, it also regenerates.”

  Darius stood up and walked partway around the table. “In theory, I understand most of what you propose, but that’s very high magic indeed.”

  Farrell nodded. “Very. Each of those beams has to be kept separate until all are melded together at the end. That is the hardest part.”

  “Harder than making sure each beam is slightly different from the next?” Darius asked.

  “Much harder.” He knew Darius wanted to hear more, but even if Farrell obliged, he wasn’t sure the older wizard would understand. “The other difficulty is powering a shield of this magnitude. Even using all the stored power of every wizard in Belsport, that might last you a day, two at most, depending on how determined the attack is.

  “To supply the needed power, I propose capturing as much free power in and around Belsport as you can. Collect it in a central location, and transfer the power in equal amounts to each regenerating point. Slowly, over time, these would amass enough energy that no one would be able to overpower it. At least not using conventional means.” Seated back in his chair, Wilhelm raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you know a way to breach this shielding.”

  “Of course. I would be a poor wizard to create something I couldn’t defeat myself. But for your purposes it matters little. If I create your shield, I’ll always have access to it.”

  “Always?” Wilhelm sat forward as Farrell nodded. “Meaning this shield is practically impervious to everyone except you.”

  “Correct.” Farrell let the shield spring to life again. “It can’t be helped. Ask Darius to explain it when you discuss my proposal.”

  Wilhelm glanced to his wizard, who nodded briefly. “I appreciate the honesty and will raise it later.”

  “Can we go back to how to power the shield?” Darius asked. “You said we should collect all the free energy, but you also said, even if we used everything we have stored right now, it wouldn’t last two days. If I understand you correctly, what you propose would require every wizard in Belsport to spend much of their day collecting and turning over energy.
”

  “No, that’s not what I’m suggesting.” He turned off the shield and expanded the size of the model. “Master Sanduval created a collection spell that can be laid over vast areas. It’s time-consuming and tedious, but in the end, you can capture all the free energy in your city and use it to power the shield.”

  “Impossible!” The older wizard shook his head vigorously. “At best, the spell dissipates when the wizard leaves the area, but unless you’re in an energy-rich area, it takes more energy to cast and maintain the spell than you gain.”

  “Suffice it to say, Master Sanduval and I solved those problems.” Farrell turned his attention back to the model and created a web-like grid on the ground. It stretched beyond the walls and into the water. When he looked up, Darius still stared at him expectantly.

  “Master Darius.” Wilhelm sounded more amused than annoyed. “It’s clear he isn’t including that information in his offer.”

  “No disrespect, my prince, but it’s no laughing matter.” Darius looked almost horrified. “If Grand Master Farrell can do what he said, it will create massive upheaval among wizards and in the world at large.”

  “Which is why I’m not sharing this knowledge.” Farrell turned from Darius to Wilhelm. “What Darius said is correct, and it’s something else for you both to discuss when we’re finished. But it raises another point. The collection spell will only last until your shield is properly powered. After that, the spell will dissolve and you’ll be forced to recharge it the old-fashioned way—wizards will need to feed it energy.”

  “Who decides what’s properly powered?” Wilhelm asked. “That rather vague wording is a merchant’s worst nightmare.”

  Laughing, Farrell poured himself more coffee. “How long it remains on is something we can negotiate. But as Darius will explain, the longer it’s on, the longer your wizards will be unable to gather their own power. They will be dependent on you for their energy. While that might seem ideal from a monarch’s point of view, it’s not optimal for attracting talented wizards.”