Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  Peter hesitated and then shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

  He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and forced the teen to look at him.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. Tell me why you came to that conclusion.”

  “Geometry and ship construction.” He pointed toward the vessel. “If a corsair can see a ship, it’s close enough to run down most merchant vessels in half a day, given favorable winds. We’re moving fast enough that these conditions favor them.”

  “But the Rose is a first-rate ship.” Miceral based his opinion on what Farrell had said after inspecting the vessel. “Maybe she can outrun the pirates?”

  “That might add a few hours to the chase, but we’ve got almost an entire day of light left. My teachers always told me, if pirates catch you in their sights before lunch, start praying to Arritisa for help.”

  Miceral started to respond when Klissmor returned. “We were unsuccessful in reaching Farrell. It is possible the water prevents our thoughts from reaching him.”

  “Please keep trying. I know he is alive. Otherwise”—he attempted to remove the chain, but he couldn’t get it over his head—“I could remove my amulet.”

  “Nerti and I will continue, but I fear he is too deep in Arritisa’s realm for our message to reach him.”

  Miceral thought he saw something break the surface of the water. For a moment he thought the dolphins had returned with . . . “Arritisa’s messengers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s how to reach Farrell.” Miceral stared at the water as if he could will a dolphin to appear. “Ask Lenore to relay a message to one of Arritisa’s messengers. They can get it to Farrell.”

  Klissmor didn’t answer immediately, and Miceral held his breath waiting for him to say it worked. “Nerti asked the Blessed Mother for help. She is sending a message through Her Sister. We will keep you apprised if we learn more.”

  “Klissmor is trying to get Kelvin a message.” He watched Peter nod gravely. “We’ve done all we can to reach him. Come on, I need to get my armor.”

  Miceral did his best to appear calm as they went back to their cabin. Tense sailors, constantly glancing aft, moved with a sense of urgency to carry out orders. The normal banter among the crew disappeared as fear focused their attention on one goal, and one goal only—speed.

  Closing the cabin door, Miceral pulled the bag Wesfazial had enchanted with an endless pocket. He motioned for Peter to keep watch on the door, then began unpacking.

  A small pile of weapons sat next to his armor on the deck when he slid the bag back under his cot. “I think that’s everything.”

  “That looks like enough for three warriors.” Peter’s armor jingled as he walked closer. “Do you plan to carry it all?”

  Miceral nodded, slipping the chainmail over his head. “I’m stronger than three men, so it’s only fair.”

  With Peter’s help he adjusted the rest of his armor. He strapped two swords on his back and then slid a mace into a hook on the left side of his belt. A small battle-axe found a home in a hook on the right, and he stuffed several heavy knives into sheaths on the leather sword sashes that crossed his torso. Finally, he grabbed an oversized leather quiver and tucked it under his left arm.

  “What’s in there?”

  “A nasty surprise for the pirates Farrell made for this trip.” He lifted the flap to reveal a dozen heavy metal javelins. “Hopefully these will instill a dose of fear among the enemy before they close on us.”

  Dressed and armed, the pair made their way aft. The corsair seemed to have closed the gap some since last he’d looked. Miceral had begun unpacking his javelins when he heard someone approach.

  “Hope you’re able to hoist those,” Emerson said, pointing to the heavy spears in Miceral’s hand. “Doubt any man on this ship could toss one of those stem to stern.”

  Placing the bundle against the gunwale, Miceral shrugged. “It won’t be a problem. I’m hopeful I can punch a few holes in their sails when they get closer.”

  The first officer raised an eyebrow. “That would be a throw worthy of the legends, Master Elgin.”

  “Bards have a way of leaving out important facts when creating sagas, Mr. Emerson.” Miceral winked at the officer.

  “My best efforts notwithstanding, you may get a chance to debunk a few myths.” Emerson’s smirk lasted less than a heartbeat. “Our pursuers gain on us despite all we do to increase our speed.”

  “Did you really think we could outrun them to Dumbarten?”

  The sailor shook his head and looked toward the barely visible ship on the horizon. “Just until nightfall. If we can keep away from them until then, I plan to alter course in the dark. At the rate they’re gaining on us, however, they’ll overtake us by midafternoon if not sooner. Captain said they broke out oars shortly after they spotted us. No way this vessel can outrun a sleek corsair sail on sail. Toss in slave-powered oars, and we won’t make it the day before we’re forced to fight. Sure wish we had that friend of yours to help. Never watched wizards fight at sea, though I heard tell that Yar-del was famous for assigning one to every ship in its navy.”

  “Don’t give up hope. Kelvin may yet make it back in time to aid us.” Miceral tried to sound hopeful. Emerson looked like he wanted to ask something but shook his head instead and walked off.

  “Do you think Kelvin will make it back in time?” Peter asked.

  Although he wanted to calm Peter’s fear, Miceral knew better than to minimize their plight. “It’s possible Lenore will get a message to him soon, but he may be a great distance away. Even if he gets the message, he might not be able to reach us in time.”

  Peter swallowed and nodded. “So we need to be prepared to rely only on ourselves.”

  “Exactly.”

  They stood by the rail in silence, watching the enemy ship relentlessly inch closer. Despite his words, Miceral didn’t expect Farrell to make it in time. Given the position of the pirate vessel, he knew they’d need help to make it to dark without being attacked.

  Lenore, we really need Your help. He didn’t know what She could do, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

  FARRELL SPENT a couple of hours listening to Teberus explain how magic worked in Rastoria. As they expected, he quickly grasped the basics, allowing the elder wizard to teach him the finer points novices normally waited years to learn.

  Essentially, Arlefor wizards pulled vast amounts of energy into themselves and used overwhelming power to accomplish what they wished. The technique turned out to be only a minor variation from how Farrell had learned to power spells, but that small difference proved life-changing. Mastering what Teberus taught him would allow him to wield power at a level previously thought to be impossible.

  “It’s so simple.” Farrell watched the power flow into his body, then let it drain away a heartbeat later. “How could we have not discovered this before?”

  Shaking his head slowly, Teberus leaned forward in his seat. “My opinion would be it lies in the amount of power available. Wizards of your world learned to use power sparingly because it is scarce—scarce relative to my world. The focus of learning would be on maximizing results using as little power as possible. Few, if any, would get acclaim for learning how to use more power than necessary just to prove they could.”

  Farrell found Teberus’s logic compelling. His ability to see to the heart of a problem brought a smile to Farrell’s face. “Your use of deductive reasoning reminds me of my late master. You two would no doubt have been good friends had you the opportunity to sit and talk for even a few minutes.”

  “His student honors him with his talents.”

  Teberus continued to lecture him on every trick and tactic he knew. Deep in conversation, Teberus suddenly stopped midsentence and turned toward the door Farrell had used to enter the room. Two temple guards swam quickly to where Burcia stood in conference with some of her advisors. Burcia nodded and the two soldiers swam off, but not before one cast a worried look at Farrell.
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  The high priestess’s face told Farrell something was afoot. She watched him for a moment before she went to a small door in the back of the room.

  “Has something happened that concerns me?” he asked Teberus.

  “That is not clear to me, but the fact my niece sent for her brother means it is a matter of high importance.”

  Before Farrell could suggest Teberus go deal with whatever problem had arisen, Clayden burst into the room, his sister a step behind.

  “Chosen, my apologies for interrupting.” Clayden’s grave tone caused Farrell to tense. “A message has been received in a roundabout manner from a servant of Lenore named Nerti. Is that name familiar to you?”

  “She is a good friend and advisor.”

  “I see.” He turned to his sister, who nodded. “She asked that Lenore speak to Arritisa, who then made a dolphin available to receive the message.”

  Burcia elbowed her brother in the ribs. “Give him the message, brother.”

  “Yes, the message.” Clayden nodded quickly, not bothering to spar with his sister. “The ship you came from is under threat of attack by a hostile vessel called Pirates, I believe they said.”

  Farrell’s body tensed. “Miceral!”

  He concentrated on his link to Miceral and focused his thoughts on their shared amulet. “Miceral!”

  Clayden set a large hand on Farrell’s shoulder. “My apologies, Chosen, but we don’t understand what you are saying.”

  Farrell listened for any hint of a response through his link, but he heard nothing. “I’m sorry. I was calling Miceral, my life partner. He and my friend are still on that ship. I must get to them immediately.” Farrell started toward the door, but a firm grip stopped him.

  “A moment, friend Farrell.” Rayden held tight to his weight belt. “Argus is preparing a force to accompany you to the surface and aid your friends. It will take only a few minutes.”

  “Minutes they may not have.” Farrell lost his focus and unconsciously started to draw power into himself. A dozen ideas on how to reach Miceral drifted in and out of his thoughts.

  “Stay calm.” Teberus placed a gnarled but powerful hand on Farrell’s arm. “The few seconds it will take to reach the correct decision will not be the difference between life and death.”

  “Why can’t I reach them?”

  Teberus ignored the question and turned to his nephew. “Prepare your troops, but we must send Farrell to his friends now. We can follow after him.”

  Clayden nodded as the wizard turned to his niece. “How quickly can you summon assistance to bear our friend to his vessel without delay?”

  “I alerted several dolphin pods to attend me the moment I heard the message.” Burcia looked to her guard, who gave her a quick nod. “I expect them any time.”

  “Excellent. Have them meet us at the entrance to the temple.” Teberus didn’t wait for an answer before speaking to Farrell. “Chosen, I do not know for sure why you can’t speak to your mate. Were I to hazard a guess, it has to do with Arritisa. Our people were meant to remain a secret. If your people could hear our voices, we would be discovered. But that is only a guess.”

  The answer, while sensible, frustrated him. Why would Arritisa send him to a place where he couldn’t reach any of his friends? No, wait. “That can’t be right. When I was testing the spell last night, I was able to speak to Miceral.”

  Was Arritisa deliberately blocking him?

  “There could be many reasons why it worked while you were in close proximity to your mate and why it won’t work now. Maybe it is the city, the amount of water between you two, or the materials we use to build our city. Maybe Arritisa has prevented your thoughts from leaving our city. But finding an answer will only delay your reaching your friends.”

  The urge to argue each point had to be tamped down. Teberus was right. He needed to reach the Seafoam Rose as soon as possible. The mystery could wait for another time.

  “Agreed. We can revisit the why another day.”

  “Correct.” Teberus brought a webbed hand to his lips. “I know your thoughts are with your mate and friend, but I have one last gift to give you. Perhaps the most important yet. This is our most powerful spell, and only someone capable of controlling enormous amounts of power can hope to cast it. Done right, the entire power and fury of the ocean are yours to command. But it requires your full concentration.”

  Farrell took a moment to comprehend what he’d heard. “Is there time?”

  “If you trust me, there is. Let us join minds so I can teach you instantly.”

  Perhaps if the danger to Miceral and Peter hadn’t been so imminent, Farrell might have taken more time to consider the request. Instead, he reached out a link for the other wizard to take. With their minds joined, Farrell “watched” as Teberus executed the spell twice. Teberus let go of the link, and Farrell left his mind.

  Farrell blinked as he assimilated the new knowledge. “A gift whose worth is beyond my ability to return.”

  “Not so. As Chosen of our Blessed Mother, you fight for us all. Consider it part of Rastoria’s contribution to your cause.” Teberus bowed and stepped back.

  “Come with me, Chosen. I shall personally swim you to your escorts.” Clayden reached out and removed the heavy belt from Farrell’s waist. “Argus and his force will follow as soon as they can.”

  “My thanks to you all.” He bowed first to Teberus, then turned toward Burcia. “High Priestess, please convey my gratitude to Arritisa for Her gifts. One day I hope to have the privilege of hosting you in my kingdom. I fear, however, it will appear dull and ugly compared to your home, but nevertheless it would be my privilege to be your host.”

  Farrell grabbed Clayden’s shoulder just before the king pushed off with a powerful surge. With nothing else to occupy his thoughts, his worst fears returned.

  “Hold on, Miceral. I’m on my way.” Even if Miceral couldn’t hear him, he needed to say it.

  Chapter Twelve

  WHEN THE sun reached midday, Klissmor touched Miceral’s mind. “A message was relayed to Farrell. He is racing to reach you, but he is a great distance away.”

  “That’s good news.” Kind of good, at least. “Can you speak to him?”

  “No. The Holy Mother advised us that Arritisa prevents communication with those under the waves. Your mate was told to make for the surface so he can contact you. This, too, will take some time. I wish my message brought you better news.”

  “Knowing he’s on the way gives us hope. We just need to stay alive until he reaches us. Thank you, old friend.” Klissmor withdrew, leaving Miceral to wonder if he’d ever speak to the unicorn again.

  “Peter, go tell the—” He stopped when he realized a merc would not give orders to a prince. “Captain Nathan!” Miceral shouted above the wind. When the older man turned, he said, “I’ve made contact with Kelvin. He’s trying to get back as quickly as he can. He’s a great distance away, however, so we need to keep ahead of them until he gets here.”

  Nathan scowled, tossing a hand in the air. “Perhaps you can get out and ask them to kindly slow down and give us time for our wizard to get here and blast them to tiny bits.”

  “I could, but that would require you stop the vessel. I’m no sailor, but that seems counterproductive to my request.” He flashed a big grin, which was returned by the captain.

  “Aye, lad, that it would.” The captain stared up at the sails. “I’ll keep the Rose running downwind to Neblor with direction. But I’ve got this lady running as fast as she’s ever gone, and they’re still gaining on us. Let’s hope Master Kelvin gets here in time.”

  Miceral nodded. Like everyone else on board, he kept one eye on the sun and the other on the pursuing vessel. The sun moved too slowly and the distance between the ships closed too rapidly.

  As the pirate vessel drew nearer, Miceral saw a hint of something on the other ship. Turning to Peter, he said, “Stay here. I need to find Emerson.”

  The first mate stood under the main
sail, barking orders to the crew.

  “Mr. Emerson.”

  “What do you need, Elgin?”

  “I think the enemy might have a ballista or catapult on deck.” That got the officer’s attention. “I mean, most pirate ships carry them now. If they have one and they disable our sails, we’ll for sure not elude them.”

  Emerson followed Miceral back to where Peter stood. Scanning the distant ship with a brass spyglass, Emerson stood silent for several moments. “It is hard for me to tell. We’re still too far away.”

  “May I?” Miceral held out his hand.

  Emerson handed him the instrument. “Not that it will do you any good. I have darn near perfect sight, and I can’t tell.”

  Miceral tuned out the man’s voice and turned the glass on the approaching vessel. His inspection provided no new insights, but just before he gave up, he spotted a man walking to the bow.

  “Take a look now.” He handed the small telescope back to the first mate. “I thought I saw them bring a spear to the bow that could only be fired from a ballista.”

  Emerson stood quietly, his eye trained where Miceral directed. Finally, he collapsed the spyglass and shook his head. “I can’t tell what it was, but it doesn’t look like anything a man could throw. Either way, I think you’re correct. They have something in the bow they mean to turn on us.”

  After staring at their enemy a bit longer, Emerson handed Miceral the brass tube. “Keep a watch on them while I see if we can’t coax a bit more speed from the Rose.”

  Over the next hour, little changed except tensions mounted as the pirate vessel crept ever nearer. Miceral did his best to maintain a close watch, looking for any sign of increased activity. Keeping his focus proved difficult when nothing happened.

  “Miceral?” Farrell’s voice in his mind caused Miceral to jump.

  “Farrell!” He noted Peter’s stare and mouthed his partner’s name. “Where in Neblor are you?”

  “As best I can tell, north and west of you. What’s your situation?” Farrell’s voice held the same angst Miceral observed on the faces around him.