Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “I’m sure.” Another sigh followed his answer.

  “Can I ask how you know for sure?” Sensing Peter might not answer, he quickly added, “Is there someone you’ve been with or you’re seeing now?”

  Even in the dim light, Farrell could see Peter blush. “There’s this son of a wealthy merchant, Pervis. He’s almost eighteen. We’ve been together a couple of times.”

  “Okay,” Farrell mumbled, lost suddenly in a memory.

  “That’s it?” Peter moved his head back. “Just ‘okay,’ nothing else?”

  “Sorry.” He tried to shake the memory, but it stayed fresh in his mind. “Your biggest fear is your father’s reaction.”

  “Of course.” Peter tensed again. “He’s going to banish me, send me to a temple, or disown me and marry again, hoping to produce a proper heir. My life is ruined. Why did this happen to me?”

  “I think you misjudge your father.” Maybe because his mother had reacted so well, Farrell expected the same from Wilhelm, but he didn’t believe Wilhelm would disown his son. “Admittedly, I’ve known him a very short time, but last night, you might have missed it, but I could see how proud he was of you and your ability to understand what we talked about. That wasn’t the reaction of a ruler first, father second. So I think he’ll understand enough to work through this with you.”

  “Right.” Sarcasm dripped from the word even as Peter frowned. “He’ll just accept that I’m not going to produce an heir.”

  “There are ways around succession issues, and your father is smart enough to know how to deal with this.” Farrell noticed the barest reflection of light from Peter’s cheek. Using his free hand, he wiped the tears from his friend’s face. “Peter, I know what this feels like, you know I do, or else you wouldn’t have sought me out. It’ll be okay.”

  Peter sniffed and wiped his face with his sleeve. “No, it won’t. I’m not a grand master wizard who’ll live forever. Father can’t take the risk, so he’ll find a new heir.”

  “If you don’t get to be Prince of Belsport, so what?” Noting the shocked look on Peter’s face, he smiled. “Even if he won’t let you be prince, your father won’t leave you penniless. You’re smart and capable. I’ve no doubt you’d end up a very wealthy merchant at a minimum. And with me as your friend, you’ll always have a home, no matter who you join with.”

  “I wish I could believe my father will accept me.” Through their joined hands, Farrell felt Peter trembling. “But he’s prince first and father second. As prince, this won’t be acceptable.”

  “We could speculate until a storm blows over us, but we won’t know until you speak to him.” Farrell knew Peter would resist, but he had to tell Wilhelm.

  “Are you mad?” This far out to sea, Peter’s voice carried a long way. “Weren’t you listening? I’m not going to tell him.”

  “You need to tell him, Peter. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to deal with.” He debated not telling the young prince what he really thought but decided Peter needed to hear it. “Given your father understands the value of information, do you really think you can keep this from him forever? I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew.”

  For the first time, Farrell saw terror in Peter’s face. “Do you really think he knows? We were careful! Very careful!” Peter’s voice got higher as his fear increased.

  “I can’t say, but it would be prudent to expect he does.” Had Peter been thinking more clearly, Farrell knew he’d agree. “How much that goes on in Belsport slips past your father and his informants?”

  “Great Arritisa, how can this be happening?” Peter almost tore his hand free, forcing Farrell to tighten his grip to keep the prince from falling into the water. “Can you take me to Haven? If he knows, I can’t go back.”

  “Before you decide to move to Haven, wouldn’t it make sense to find out if you even need to?” Farrell tried to keep his tone light, hoping Peter would calm down. “How awful would it be to flee Belsport only to learn later that your father wasn’t upset?”

  “I can’t tell him.” He shook his head fast.

  “Avoiding this only makes it worse. Your father’s reaction will be the same no matter when he finds out, but how he learns it might make a difference. Trusting him is the first step toward gaining his acceptance.”

  “What if I go to Haven while you tell him?” Peter’s eyes pleaded with Farrell.

  “It’s not my place to tell him.” He pulled Peter into a hug. “You know it has to come from you.”

  “You’re right, but I’m scared.” Head against Farrell’s chest, Peter began to sob. Farrell gently rubbed his back, waiting for Peter to stop. When the tears ceased, Peter sniffed before he pulled back. “I told my mother before she died. She told me to tell him, that he loved me more than I knew.” Tears started to roll down his cheeks again. “I miss her, Farrell.”

  Farrell’s stomach twisted, and his chest felt heavy. Forcing down the bile that crept up his throat, he tried to speak. Unsure his voice would hold, Farrell whispered, “I understand what that feels like, too.”

  Staring at the half moon reflecting off the water, he realized how much he had in common with Peter. “When I told my mother, she took me to the water’s edge, because that’s where she found peace when she was upset.”

  Closing his eyes, Farrell took a deep breath. “There is a serenity out here that puts all things in perspective. Before us, the ocean was; after us, it will still be. The sea doesn’t care who we love or even that we love. It’s not concerned with princes or wizards or the insignificant wars of humans. When placed in context of the boundless life that exists in total ignorance of us, our small problems are meaningless. Whatever happens will happen. You will never be able to move on while you struggle to find a way to address your problem. Think on it, and if you like, we can speak to your father before I leave.”

  Peter turned his head in all directions before settling on Belsport. “Tonight I feel strong enough to tell him. If you would be there for me, I would appreciate it.”

  “Of course.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, Farrell forced himself to smile. “I’ll ask Miceral to let your father know you want to speak to him in private.”

  Farrell went slower on the way back to give Peter time to compose himself. As they crossed the entrance to the port, he spotted Prince Wilhelm standing on the balcony they had left from.

  “An interesting way for my son to speak with you in private.” Wilhelm turned and walked back inside. Peter glanced over and stood taller as he followed his father.

  “I asked everyone to excuse us since you asked to speak to me alone.” Wilhelm’s voice held only concern. “I assume you asked Farrell to remain or else his upbringing would have compelled him to leave.”

  “Yes, Father, I asked him to stay.” Peter moved closer to Wilhelm. “He’s the one who convinced me to speak to you.”

  Wilhelm stepped closer and put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “I know I’ve not been the most approachable since your mother died. Part of that is because I miss her, too. Whatever you tell me won’t change how I feel about you. You’ll always be my son, and I will always love you.”

  Peter’s face wavered between a smile and tears. Farrell heard him swallow, then exhale. “I . . . I don’t want to join with a woman, Father. I prefer men.”

  Wilhelm cocked his head to the right, staring at his son. Finally, a smile crossed his lips. “I already knew that, son.”

  “You . . . you knew?

  “Yes.” Wilhelm looked relieved. “Your mother told me before she died. She made me promise not to talk to you about it until you were ready to tell me, to allow you time to tell me when it was right for you.”

  “She promised she wouldn’t tell you—”

  Wilhelm put his hand up. “She loved you very much, Peter, and wanted to make sure I wouldn’t get mad when you told me. I’m not sure why everyone thinks I’d be angry with you. I understand this is nothing you chose, but it’s who you are. I might not be
pleased about it and might wish it weren’t the case, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  Farrell watched as Peter’s expression went from terror to shock to a smile that threatened to split his face in two.

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m ashamed at what I thought would happen when I told you.” Peter hung his head, no longer looking at his father.

  Wilhelm placed a finger under his son’s chin and tilted it up. “I’m not so old that I forget how hard it was being your age. Losing your mother has been hard for all of us, but I hope you know now that you can tell me anything.”

  Instead of answering, Peter lurched forward to his father. Wilhelm returned the embrace, kissing the top of his son’s head.

  “That was all you wanted to tell me?” Wilhelm asked when Peter stepped back.

  “Yes, Father.”

  Wilhelm’s smile disappeared, and he nodded slowly. “I’m glad we had this chat tonight, because if we hadn’t, tomorrow I would’ve had to confront you on this issue.”

  “Wh-why?”

  “Yesterday, when I returned from Haven, I had a meeting with Master Kaleb and his son, Pervis.”

  Peter’s face turned white, and he swayed on his feet. “Pervis came to the Citadel?”

  “I know about your . . . ah . . . interest in Pervis.” Wilhelm looked uneasy discussing the topic. “Don’t worry. I’m not upset with you. But you’ll need to select better friends in the future. Pervis and his father informed me several days ago that unless I gave their family exclusive trading rights to several lucrative luxury goods, they’d let all of Belsport know you and he were . . . ‘lovers,’ I believe he said.”

  Peter shook and his face turned red. “How could he? We agreed to keep it to ourselves.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s often how it works for people like you and me, Peter,” Farrell said. “The first person I fell in love with was an officer in the Yar-del palace guard. He was the younger son of a minor noble and very handsome. Turned out all he wanted was for me to ask Heminaltose to speak to Queen Zenora about a promotion. When I refused, he dumped me.”

  “What did you tell him, Father?” Peter’s voice cracked from the attempt to control his anger.

  “I told him it was a mistake to blackmail a prince of Belsport and had them both arrested for attempted extortion.” Despite a hint of satisfaction, Wilhelm seemed unhappy telling his son what had happened. “We can talk more tomorrow, but I wanted to be the one to tell you what happened.”

  “Thank you, Father, and thank you for . . . for being . . . for not being mad.” Peter gave his father a thin smile.

  “You’re welcome.” Wilhelm hugged his son again, then turned him toward the door. “Go get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  “Good night, Father.” Peter turned to Farrell and extended his right arm. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”

  Farrell clasped his hand to the younger man’s forearm and bowed slightly. “You’re welcome.”

  When Peter left, Wilhelm stared hard at his guest. He picked up a bottle of port, poured two glasses, and handed one to Farrell. “It’s one of the best vintages I’ve found in years.”

  They sipped their wine quietly before Wilhelm broke the silence. “You’re an intriguing person, Prince Farrell. In the span of a few days, you’ve upset our sedate lives and pushed us all in ways we hadn’t intended.” Looking over the rim of his glass, he kept his gaze on Farrell. “I’m not sure what to make of you, but my children trust you implicitly, my wizard fawns over you like you were Heminaltose reborn, and I find myself unable to dislike you, even though you’re forcing change on me at a pace unheard of in Belsport’s history.”

  Unsure what Wilhelm wanted, Farrell let his host control the conversation.

  “Things are happening in the world that will affect everyone. Somehow, you’re tied to this change. I just don’t know how. As I see it, you’re either Belsport’s greatest friend or its worst enemy. Deciding which will determine the fate of my people and our city.”

  “I have no ill intentions toward you or your city, Wilhelm.” Farrell wanted to say more but held back. “I’m not sure how I can convince you otherwise.”

  “No.” Wilhelm shook his head. “Enemy is the wrong word. You will either lift us all up, or you will bring ruin upon all you touch.”

  “Meglar is the destroyer of nations, not I.” He took a small sip to cover his annoyance at the statement.

  “He will be the instrument of our destruction, but your fight with him has a personal feel to it.” The prince refilled his half-empty glass. “Those you befriend become a target for his wrath.”

  Farrell’s body tingled, and he raised his shields around them both. Ignoring the glare from his host, he searched the room for the cause.

  “What in Arritisa’s name are you . . .?” Wilhelm’s protest died as Farrell lowered his shields.

  A large milky-white manta ray fluttered soundlessly over the balcony. Silently, it floated into the room and stopped just before the pair. Farrell dropped to his knees and bowed his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Wilhelm do the same.

  “Greetings, Farrell, Servant of Honorus and Lenore.” Arritisa’s voice appeared inside his head. “And to you, Wilhelm, favored among my followers.”

  “Holy Arritisa, You honor us with Your presence.” Farrell kept his head down, waiting to be granted permission to look upon the goddess.

  “Holy Mother of the Sea.” Wilhelm’s voice came out low and halting. “How may I serve You?”

  “Meglar is a threat to all nations, Belsport included. As My Chosen, Farrell leads the efforts of all who oppose Our Brother Neldin’s Servant. You will give what aid you can to Farrell and his efforts to carry out My will.”

  Arritisa turned her gaze to Farrell. “Chosen, you must reveal to My follower that which you keep secret. Though I do not counsel you make public this knowledge, My follower must know for reasons I shall not share.”

  When did he become Her Chosen? “I understand and will do as instructed,” Farrell replied. Though he was uncomfortable with the idea, it would be unthinkable to ignore Her direct command.

  She returned her attention to Wilhelm. “Prince of Belsport, on you I lay a prohibition. What you learn today you may not share with anyone who does not already know the secret. Willingly, I know you would not do so, but there are others who can compel your words against your will. Against that threat, My will shall prevent you from breaking this confidence, even unto death.”

  She extended a fin, compelling each to rise. “Go forth and honor Me, Wilhelm of Belsport and Halloran of Yar-del.”

  Before Farrell could register his shock at Her words, Arritisa disappeared.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  FARRELL LAY with his head on Miceral’s chest, enjoying his partner gently massaging his neck.

  “Can it really be a bad thing to be the Chosen of Arritisa?” Miceral ran his hand through Farrell’s hair.

  “Who can tell? I just don’t want more demands on me. Honorus’s task is more than enough already.” Half-asleep, he barely heard Miceral laugh. Yawning again, he exhaled and pulled Miceral closer. “Tomorrow I’ll ask Erstad and Wesfazial if they know what it means.”

  When Miceral attempted to get up, Farrell reached for his hand, almost getting dragged off the bed in the process. Seeing his surprise mirrored on Miceral’s face, Farrell laughed. “Where are you running off to?”

  “Running off? I’m trying to get undressed.” Leering at Farrell, Miceral started to unbutton his tunic.

  Moving back against the pillows, Farrell put his hands behind his head to watch. “Don’t let me stop you; get to undressing.”

  Miceral’s hand dropped to his waist, and he returned to the bed. “I think it might be more fun to do it together.”

  FARRELL WOKE wrapped in Miceral’s arms, feeling his partner’s arousal behind him. How easy it would have been to renew last night’s activities
if only they didn’t have a full schedule today. Still, he couldn’t resist snuggling back a bit.

  “Someone’s awake.” From the tone of his partner’s voice, Farrell felt certain if he turned around, Miceral would be grinning ear to ear. “So is someone else.” Farrell wiggled around for emphasis. “Too bad we have to do our morning exercises, or we’d have time to enjoy it.”

  Rolling to his right, Miceral pulled the sheets with him as he got off the bed. “We’ll have time for that again tonight. Now, it’s time to get up.”

  Farrell turned on his stomach, hiding his excited state. “Seeing you naked makes me think of a different morning exercise we could do.”

  When he turned to see Miceral’s reaction, the sheets hit him in the face. “Save it for later. Right now, get dressed.”

  Miceral was stretching when Farrell found him. Joining him on the mat, Farrell stole a glance as he leaned forward to stretch his hamstrings. The big grin on Miceral’s face made it hard to keep his focus.

  “What’s gotten into you this morning?” Miceral asked.

  “Can’t I wake up in the mood? This is our post-union vacation. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” Adjusting the front of his trousers, Farrell realized he had to stop thinking about it or he’d never get through the day.

  Miceral laughed, causing him to break his stretch. “Yes, we are, but it’s not the only thing we’re supposed to do.”

  For the first thirty minutes, Miceral stuck to conditioning exercises. Hands on knees, Farrell paused to catch his breath before they progressed to combat moves. “I can’t believe I lost that much over just a week.”

  Farrell gratefully accepted a cup of water, downing it in one long drink. “You didn’t lose anything.” Miceral refilled his cup. “I pushed you much harder than normal to see if you had. I guess all that nighttime exercise does help.”

  Water flew everywhere as Farrell erupted in a fit of coughing. “I’ll get you for that.”