Champion of the Gods Box Set

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Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 45

by Andrew Q. Gordon


  He walked into the office and returned with a key. “First meal tomorrow is included in the price. All others come from your purse. Food is available from breakfast ’til midnight or until we run out, whichever comes first.”

  Walking with a slight limp, the man led them toward the staircase. “Top floor, left side, last room at the end of the hall.” He handed Miceral the key but kept his gaze on Farrell. “Still wish I knew how you did that with Thorn. He never took to anyone like that before.”

  “Strange things happen when you deal with wizards, Vernack,” the warrior smoking his pipe said, rising to his feet.

  Farrell tried not to stare at the man, especially now that his suspicions seemed confirmed. Better not to acknowledge the remark and pretend he’d ignored it entirely.

  “This really ain’t any of your business, now is it, Leo?” Vernack snapped, glaring at his guest.

  “Nope, sure isn’t. I was just pointing out the obvious.” He stretched his tall, lanky frame and resumed his seat, puffing away at his long-stemmed pipe.

  Vernack shook his head and turned back toward Miceral and Farrell.

  “Top of the stairs, last room on the left. Number eight.”

  Key in hand, they ascended the switchback stairs toward the fourth floor. Farrell stopped at the landing on the third floor. “Keep going, Ral. Someone is following quietly behind us. I’m going to see who it is.”

  “Be careful and let me know what’s happening.”

  “Of course. I’ll need you to help me question Leo when I catch him in the act.”

  “Leo? How do you know who it is?”

  Farrell moved a few steps into the third-floor hallway and engaged a spell. He magically added the sound of a second set of boots as Miceral continued up the stairs. “Call it a hunch.”

  Moments later, Leo appeared, barely making a sound. Farrell silenced his real footsteps, then fell in behind the man. “It’s Leo. Head to the room, but be ready to come out when I say to.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

  Leo paused and appeared to listen. He gave no indication he sensed Farrell’s presence. Instead, he looked right and then left, glancing directly at Farrell before he walked up the last flight.

  “Positive. The man’s not a wizard.” Farrell heard a door open and shut before he crept up to the fourth-floor landing. Leo stood a few feet ahead of him, peering down the hall at room eight. “He’s standing in the hallway, looking at our door. Let me get behind him, then come out when I tell you.”

  “Agreed. Just be careful.”

  Leo inched closer to their door, listening intently. Farrell stepped into the hallway, closing the distance between him and their stalker.

  “I’m ready.”

  He heard Miceral stomp to the door and turn the knob. As he expected, Leo quickly turned and made for the stairs. Farrell released his spell and created a shield around himself that touched both sides of the hall. With a startled look, Leo reached for his weapon.

  “Any reason you’re spying on us?” Farrell tapped his staff on the floor, and a pale blue nimbus erupted from the tip and outlined his shield.

  “Who’s spying on whom, Master Kelvin? Any reason you silently made your way behind me with your shield raised?”

  “I’m asking the questions.” He let the blue light pulse a bit brighter.

  “You can willingly answer them, or I can make you.”

  Leo stared at him, but Farrell didn’t flinch.

  “It wasn’t wise to follow after us like that, sir.” Miceral stood behind the man, sword in his left hand. “Silently walking up the stairs, listening and looking about as you went, made plain your intentions.”

  Farrell noted a hint of fear as the man tensed. “A Muchari and a wizard are a conspicuous couple. One might wonder if you are really Elgin and Kelvin and not some other famous friends of the prince.”

  While not prepared for Leo to have made the connection, Farrell kept his stoic expression. “One might wonder if we were Khron and Falcron, but it doesn’t answer my question. This is the last time I will ask you to explain yourself.”

  Leo stared hard at him, as if trying to judge his resolve. When his shoulders drooped just a bit, Farrell knew he understood the situation. Leo turned to face Miceral. “One does not forget the face of the greatest warrior our race has produced. Especially not when you were present to see him best someone as renowned as Master Baylec.”

  “Great balls of Neldin.” Miceral slid his sword back into its sheath. “Leothan. It’s been almost fifty years since I’ve seen you.”

  “I’ve been traveling for a bit.” Although he visibly relaxed more, he kept stealing glances at Farrell, who maintained his shield.

  Miceral held out his arm, and the two clasped forearms. Using a hand to turn Leo, Miceral approached Farrell. “Kelvin, this is Leothan. He and I used to spar together under Baylec’s watchful eye. Though it was many years ago.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Kelvin.” Leo bowed politely when Farrell didn’t extend his arm. “Perhaps it would be better if we didn’t speak in the hall?”

  Miceral nodded and led Leo into the room. Following a few steps behind, Farrell remained wary. Despite his partner’s acknowledgment, he didn’t release his spell.

  Their room had windows on two sides, making it well-lit for such a small space. The large bed and small table with two chairs took up most of the floor. Other than a few wall sconces, a mirror, a washbasin, and a pitcher of water, there was little else in the room.

  Miceral closed the shutters, and Farrell cast a spell to keep prying ears away. A soft puff of light exploded above his hand, sending sparks to all points in the room.

  “Now we can speak without others listening to our conversation.”

  Leothan smiled and clapped Miceral on the back. “He’s a handy friend to have about.”

  Miceral laughed. “He’s a great deal more to me than just a friend.”

  “Lenore finally made good on Her promise, did She? I certainly didn’t expect it would be a human, much less a wizard.”

  Glaring at Leo, Farrell walked over to Miceral. “Muchari really think highly of themselves, don’t they? Next he’ll call me a silly, soft human.”

  Leothan raised an eyebrow at Miceral.

  “My father didn’t exactly approve at first of my being paired with a human.” Miceral took Farrell’s hand and kissed it once. “Fortunately, Father has come around.”

  Surprised, Leo looked at Farrell. “You must be quite extraordinary for Horgon to be that accepting.”

  Before he could respond, Miceral wrapped his arms around Farrell’s waist and kissed the top of his head. “He is that and more.”

  Farrell smiled at the show of affection, then scanned Leothan with his wizard’s sight. Finding nothing, he relaxed and wiggled free of Miceral’s grasp. With only two chairs in the room, Farrell lifted his legs and sat hovering next to Miceral.

  “Another handy trick,” Leothan said as he sat down.

  He reaffixed his staff to his back. “It has its uses.” “What brings you to Belsport?” Miceral asked.

  “With Northhelm gone and no way to reach those who fled, this is as good a place as any to make a living.” Leothan shrugged. “They are a rich and prosperous people who appreciate the skills I offer. What about you?

  Are you really mercs hired by the prince?”

  “We are,” Farrell said quickly.

  “That seems out of character for the son of Horgon and Baylec’s prized student.”

  “It’s not for the money.” Miceral glanced at Farrell. “Call it a favor to Wilhelm.”

  “Somehow I didn’t think you needed the money. Care to fill in some details on what you are really up to?”

  “No.” Scowling, Farrell stared at their guest. “Why do you ask?”

  “Easy there, little fellow.” Leothan flinched, sitting back farther in his chair. “No need to get your hackles up. Just a simple question.”

  Farrell locked
his eyes on the man, looking for the source of his unease.

  “Any chance you can call your attack dog off?” Leothan looked at Miceral but kept checking Farrell warily. “He looks like he’s trying to stare a hole in me.”

  “Something wrong?” Miceral asked. “You look angry.”

  “Not sure.” He never took his eyes off Leothan. “I know he’s your friend, but something bothers me about him. I just can’t say what.”

  “Are you sure it’s not that he followed us?”

  “That’s probably a lot of it.” He finally turned his head.

  “I’d tread carefully, old friend. He only looks innocent.” Miceral winked at Farrell. “But I’d also like to know what your interest is in our business.”

  “Are you serious?” Leothan looked surprised. “Northhelm disappears, not conquered or destroyed, but disappears as if it never existed. There’s no word on where our people went, but there are rumors that a group of them, mounted on peregrines and unicorns, arrived suddenly to aid Prince Wilhelm when Meglar attacked, then they disappeared just as fast. The few of us who weren’t at Northhelm when it . . . vanished have had no information on where our people went or even if they’re okay. I think I’m entitled to ask questions, especially from the son of Northhelm’s leader.”

  “What we do has nothing to do with what happened to our people.” Miceral held up a hand. “But I can talk to my father, and he can work with you.”

  “Work with me? What in Neblor does that mean?”

  “It means everyone who enters Haven is tested before they’re admitted.” Farrell eyed the man, waiting for an objection.

  “Tested? Is this a joke?” Leothan turned toward Miceral, who shook his head. “Have our people fallen so low that we no longer trust each other?”

  “Meglar has agents everywhere and among all kingdoms. It’s a small precaution to ensure our safety.”

  “Did you test everyone at Northhelm before you let them enter?”

  “Those at Northhelm when the city was abandoned were approved by Lenore and her priestesses.” Miceral’s discomfort made Farrell want to reach over and hold him. “Leothan, this isn’t personal. Meglar would pay dearly to know where the people of Northhelm fled, for many reasons.”

  “I’m aware of his interest in our kind. You may not have heard, tucked away in your hiding place, but there’s a bounty out for any Muchari who can be captured alive.”

  “Where did you hear that?” The existence of an offer didn’t surprise Farrell; he expected as much from his father. But the fact he’d made it so openly that Muchari knew about it didn’t sound like Meglar.

  “A merc I worked with guarding a merchant convoy had too much to drink and mused about how he wanted to catch a Muchari and cash in on the reward. Evidently Meglar is offering a tidy sum, enough that this man thought he could retire.”

  “Stupid fool,” Miceral said. “Did he have any idea how he’d capture, much less keep in custody, one of our kind?”

  Leothan laughed. “None. But I’ve been careful to limit my skills of late. I’ve heard rumors that some of the faster or stronger mercs have disappeared in the last few months. Doesn’t take a scholar to figure out what’s happening.”

  “Do you know if any actual Muchari have been captured?” Farrell asked, draining the smile from his guest’s lips.

  “Not that I’ve heard, but I’m only in contact with the few who are in and around Belsport.”

  “When Northhelm disappeared, why didn’t you and the others go to Primilian?” Miceral asked.

  “Some did.” Leothan shrugged. “But my family and friends were in Northhelm, and we quickly learned that Northhelm hadn’t evacuated to Primilian. I decided to kick around here, hoping to find out where everyone went.”

  “And now you know.” Miceral smiled.

  Leothan shook his head. “No, I don’t. All I’ve learned is they’re in a place called Haven and that only those who are goddess tested and approved may join them.”

  “Unless you’re hiding something, you’ll be welcome at Haven.” Farrell waited until Leothan looked at him. “What we do is for the safety of your family and friends. There is no intent to keep you away from them.”

  “I understand. It still feels like I’m not trusted, but I understand.”

  “I’m sure you’ll feel differently when you’re reunited with the rest of our people.” Miceral clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Now tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. It’s been too long.”

  “FOURTH HOUR?” Farrell yawned as they walked along the muddy, rut-filled street. “Why didn’t anyone tell me we had to get up that early?”

  Miceral let out a sigh. “Because everyone knew if we told you, we’d hear you grumble all day before and after. This way, only Peter and I have to listen to you whine.”

  Peter snickered, drawing a glare from Farrell. “Given the number of spells that draw energy from me on a constant basis, I, like most reasonably active wizards, need more sleep than everyone else, even warriors. And, since the more powerful the wizard, the greater the demand on us, there is no one in Haven or Belsport who needs as much sleep as I do.”

  “Did he just remind us that he’s the greatest wizard he knows?” Peter spared Farrell a sideward glance before turning to Miceral.

  “Ignore him. He’s always grumpy in the early-morning hours.”

  Farrell declined to engage them and focused on their surroundings. He’d never been to Glaston before, and from what he could see so far, he hadn’t missed much. The largest of the free cities north of Khron’s Spine, Glaston still had the dirty, gritty feel of a minor city-state.

  For centuries Yar-del, with its superior location and powerful navy, had been the destination for merchants on the eastern side of the continent. The prince of Glaston and the sovereigns of the other free cities of the north didn’t help their cause when they opted to spend more on personal consumption than on creating and maintaining a powerful navy.

  “The city seems so . . . so dingy.” Peter’s comment drew Farrell’s attention. “Isn’t Glaston the wealthiest of the Northern Free Cities?”

  “It is, but since Yar-del fell, all the northern cities, except Spagrom, have fallen on hard times.” Farrell stopped to watch a gaunt, dirty child approach a well-dressed merchant. When the man raised his ring-covered hand, Farrell exerted the barest hint of power toward the mud. The man’s feet slid forward, dumping him ass-first in the muck. The impact, and another small use of magic, caused the man’s purse to come loose, landing inches from the child.

  Quicker than the wealthy man could react, the boy scooped up the small leather bag and ran off. Attempting to get to his feet, the man suddenly lurched forward, planting his red face into the soggy dirt.

  “Was that necessary?” Miceral shook his head.

  Farrell shrugged. “I hate bullies.”

  “What happened to not drawing attention to ourselves?” Scanning the area around them, Miceral motioned for them to start walking.

  “No one will be able to trace it to me. I used very little power.”

  “Even so, I’d feel better if you didn’t try to right every wrong you see on the way to the ship.”

  Farrell nodded. He didn’t mean to put Miceral on edge. “Sorry, I just reacted.”

  “I know.” He put a hand on Farrell’s shoulder. “And it’s one of the things I love about you, but we promised Wilhelm we’d watch out for Peter. That’s got to be first in your mind.”

  “Speaking of putting me first, I’m hungry.” Peter patted his stomach.

  “Can we stop and get something to eat?”

  Miceral smiled at Farrell and nodded. “Between you and Peter, I’m not sure we’ll have enough food on board. We may need to hire a second ship to carry provisions.”

  “Is he going to be this bad the whole trip?”

  Farrell put his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Sadly, it’ll probably get worse.”

  THE THREE munched on bread baked w
ith cheese and meat as they walked toward the warehouse district. With the salty air, the sound of the waves, and the call of seagulls, if Farrell closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself back in Yar-del. As a boy he’d begged his master to take him back so he could run into the water and splash around. Who cared if he slept in the servants’ quarters in a tiny room on a pallet? Most days those memories drowned out the ache of the loss of Kel’s gleaming city.

  But today images of his youth fueled his excitement. With Kel’s help, he would reclaim what they’d lost, and he could take Miceral to the spots he had staked out as his own. Kel. Everything depended on finding the great Kel. Today, with the smell of the ocean in his nostrils, they’d begin the journey to find him.

  “Kelvin!” Miceral’s angry voice forced him away from his thoughts. Only now did he realize they’d been calling his “name.”

  Farrell could see the reproach in Miceral’s eyes. He should have been keeping an eye on their surroundings, not dreaming of what only might happen. “Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

  “I knew that.” Miceral’s tone didn’t soften with Farrell’s apology. “Try to remember that even if we aren’t mercenaries, we really are supposed to guard Peter.”

  “You couldn’t have said that privately? It had to be out loud?” Farrell’s face flushed and his ears grew warm. He deserved the reprimand, but he still didn’t like it.

  “Sorry. But I can’t baby you.” Miceral’s tone said more than his words. “You may not be in danger, but Peter is our responsibility. We promised Wilhelm.”

  “Fine.” Farrell tried not to let the rebuke bother him, but it still ruined his mood. Maybe they should have left Peter in Belsport and found a different way to get to Dumbarten. He had no doubts that he’d slip up again. As much as it embarrassed him, Miceral was right. He did need to make sure Peter didn’t come to any harm.

  Mercenaries outnumbered merchants, vendors, and buyers. Every ship had its share of determined-looking men, casting their gaze at the press of people moving past their ships.

  “The docks at Belsport don’t have this many mercs standing guard.” Peter mimicked Miceral and kept his hand resting on his sword.

 

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