“How will they know we are not their enemies?” Miceral asked.
“Unicorns and dwarves have always enjoyed a close relationship,” Nerti answered. “Provided we give them the chance to recognize we are not horses, we will have no problems entering Colograd.”
Farrell perked up when he noted something odd about the landscape. “Those stones have been altered.” He pointed toward a group of rocks that appeared to be randomly placed. “Follow the line out, and you will discern a pattern.”
Miceral looked where Farrell suggested. He stared hard at them for a moment, then turned toward the mountains, and then back to the stones. “It is an outline of the mountain range.”
Nerti bobbed her head without missing a beat. “It marks the edge of the lands Colograd lays claim to.”
The north-south road turned west, running parallel to the towering mountains to the south. At a small stream that Farrell heard before he saw, Nerti turned left, and they left the main road. It took a few paces for him to realize the open ground they’d turned onto was really a cleverly disguised road that followed the winding stream.
They stayed with the path for an hour before they came to an abrupt halt.
“A company of dwarves approaches,” Klissmor said. “Be ready to greet them properly.”
Sitting quietly, Farrell heard the distant jingle of weapons and armor. The sound quickly drew closer, and it wasn’t long before the dwarves rounded a corner. Walking three across, the heavily armed soldiers marched toward them.
“Do they know we’re here?” Miceral asked Farrell. “I mean, are you still maintaining the invisibility spell?”
“Before we set off today, I modified our spells at Nerti’s request to allow the dwarves to see us.”
“Be silent, both of you.” Nerti’s chastising tone let him know she was angry. “It is considered a terrible insult to speak to your hosts before they have the chance to welcome you. Of course they see us; they are here to welcome us. Do you expect them to hurl greetings from down the road like a bunch of rowdy sailors?”
“Dwarves follow a strict code of personal conduct that is both formal and bothersome,” Klissmor added. “It might be best to speak little unless you are answering a question or you have been invited to speak. Remember to acknowledge all words of welcome and to return those greetings simply and without flowery words.”
“Understood.” Farrell dismounted and stowed his staff on his back. Leaving one hand on Nerti’s back, he stood to her right between her and the river.
“What are you doing?” Miceral asked.
“I thought it might seem less threatening if I’m not mounted.”
Miceral nodded and hopped onto the ground. He took a position to the left of Klissmor. Together they watched the company march up the path until they were about ten yards away. Two figures toward the rear of the column walked around the left side of the soldiers. Leading the pair was an older dwarf with a long, white beard gathered at the end by a jewel-encrusted gold ring. He had a war hammer in his right hand and a shield strapped to his back. The second dwarf wore the gray robe of a priest of Khron and carried a four-foot wooden staff topped with a silver ball. With each step he tapped the end onto the stones with a click. He watched Farrell as he walked.
The pair stopped in front of the soldiers. Farrell fought the urge to greet them as the silence dragged on. Finally, the priest took a step forward, bowed for a heartbeat, and then stared at Farrell.
“Hail, Chosen of Khron and His Siblings. You honor us with your visit.” The priest’s voice echoed off the rocks.
Almost as one, the company of dwarves dropped to one knee.
“Now you may answer,” Klissmor said.
Trying to remember not to be too flowery, Farrell bowed an appropriate amount. “My lords, you honor us with your greeting. Thank you for the welcome.”
The priest smiled as the officer straightened his belt and snapped to attention.
“On behalf of my liege, King Thrinton, I welcome you all to Colograd. I am General Kwend of the royal army. The king is anxious to greet such noble visitors. Allow us to escort you to his majesty.”
Nerti nudged Farrell forward so he stood in front of Miceral. The soldiers quickly formed ranks, creating an open space around the visitors. Once set, an officer gave a signal, and the column marched back the way they had come. With their first step, the company burst into song.
“It is a song of welcome reserved for the most important guests,” Nerti said before Farrell could ask.
The pace set by their guards surprised him. Although he didn’t struggle to keep up, Farrell had to lengthen his stride to avoid lagging behind the dwarves in front of him. Worn out from the journey, he regretted dismounting after just a few minutes.
The company rounded a large rock formation and moved away from the river. They kept to the road for another ten minutes, then stopped before the middle of an empty wall. Kwend walked forward and pressed a spot that looked like ordinary rock. The outline of a door appeared in the rock face, and he stepped back. Similar to the ones at Haven, the doors could not be detected when closed. Given the entrance was smaller than Haven’s gates, Farrell surmised this to be a side entrance.
Slowly the door swung outward, and the soldiers resumed their march. Farrell followed their escort into a tunnel that reminded him of the seldom-used corridors that led to Trellham. Once inside the mountain, Farrell dropped the protective spells he’d maintained all day. Exhaustion swept to every part of his body, and only his hand on Nerti’s side prevented him from staggering. A tiny burst of energy flowed from their connection, giving him enough strength to steady himself.
“Are you well, Chosen?” The priest stared at him.
“I’m fine, Father, just tired. It’s been a long three days.”
The priest arched a brow. “Surely you rode the entire trip.”
Anger at the implied insult provided Farrell with an adrenaline-fueled jolt of strength. “Father—”
“Surely you have better manners than to insult Khron’s Chosen, Priest.” Nerti turned her gaze on the surprised dwarf. The priest’s flare of anger disappeared instantly when he realized who had spoken. “A wizard may ride all day and use more energy protecting his company with magic than if he used his own feet to run. The Chosen maintained several spells so difficult anyone would have taxed the strength of all but the most accomplished wizard. To have successfully maintained so many deserves praise, not foolish questions about his fitness.”
The company stopped walking, and the mood tensed. If it came to a fight, Farrell didn’t like their chances. “A powerful wizard is interested in our travels. To prevent him from learning we came to visit your king, I had to make absolutely certain we traveled undetected. The effort proved more taxing then I expected.”
“Modesty is a fine trait, Chosen.” General Kwend crossed in front of Nerti, paying close attention to her horn. “Father Aresham meant no insult, but our familiarity with high magic and riding unicorns is limited. He only asked after your health to be certain you were well.”
Kwend glanced at the priest and held the older dwarf’s gaze.
“Yes. Of course, Chosen. I meant no insult to your abilities. My only concern was to be sure you are not injured.”
“My thanks, Father.” Farrell nodded to the elderly dwarf. “I assure you, I’m well enough to make the trip.”
Father Aresham reached up and clasped Farrell’s bicep with his thick, powerful hand. The “gentle shake” felt more like a test than a friendly gesture, but Farrell pretended not to notice.
“Excellent.” When Aresham released his grip, he quickly walked to the head of the column.
Nerti snorted softly. “Well played, Little One.”
“Did you intentionally insult him?”
“Yes.” She twisted slightly until their eyes met. “He challenged you in the way dwarves do. I could not be certain your reply would be appropriate, so I stepped in.”
“Insulting him is
an appropriate response?”
“Not if you did it.” She winked and faced forward.
He stifled a laugh. Chuckling to oneself for no apparent reason probably violated some dwarf custom, but it did lift his spirits.
Colograd’s tunnels had three thousand years of extra use and wear than Trellham. The constant grind of untold thousands of heavy-shod feet had worn faint grooves in the stone floor. Dozens of gold and silver statues lined the walls. Some stood in private recessed areas carved into the stone passages, while others had been set in the corridor. Mosaics made from precious and semiprecious stones and flakes depicted epic battles and important times in the history of the dwarves. A recurring feature in many of the statues and artwork they passed was a pair of silver war hammers. Nerti informed him they were part of the coat of arms for the royal house.
After another few minutes of marching, the corridor widened and the light increased. New hallways appeared at odd intervals, where an occasional dwarf stopped in the intersection to allow the company to pass.
Farrell kept his hand on Nerti’s shoulder, drawing strength when he felt unsteady. “What would I do without you, my queen?”
“Fall on your face, no doubt.” Her voice had a playful note that had been absent the last two days.
“No doubt, indeed.”
The party marched through Colograd, passing corridors into open spaces, then back into long hallways. Some of the chambers they walked through extended hundreds of feet up, others only a few dozen. Each contained buildings both unique and magnificent. Marble walls adorned with gold, silver, and precious gems were commonplace. Wood, however, was scarce, appearing only on the biggest, most impressive buildings.
Twenty minutes after they’d entered Colograd, Kwend halted in front of two large stone doors inlaid with a wooden coat of arms. Four soldiers guarded the doors. Each held a long spear in the hand away from the center of the entrance. They showed no sign that they noticed the group.
Their escort broke to either side until Farrell and Nerti stood behind Kwend and Aresham. The entire company stopped, stomped one foot, then the other, and stood at attention. Without warning, the soldiers shouted words in a language Farrell didn’t understand.
“They honor you and Miceral as the Chosen and Servant of Khron. It is the ritual blessing of the dwarves,” Nerti said. “Their words translate to: ‘Hail and well met, honored servants of our Father Khron.’”
Miceral and Klissmor moved up so the four were side by side. As a group, they bowed to the general and priest.
“Faithful servants of most holy Khron, we thank you for your welcome.” Miceral’s choice of words told Farrell Klissmor had coached him on what to say. “The honor is ours.”
The four guards at the doors stomped the metal butts of their spears on the stone floor and repeated the words of welcome. Silently the doors swung outward. When they had opened enough to see inside, four more guards pushing on the massively thick doors. Farrell peered into the room beyond the entrance and groaned silently.
The chamber on the other side was a cavernous hall. The large palace in the center with its four tall spires made the citadel in Belsport look like a minor lord’s home. Though hard to determine its exact size from where he stood, the space appeared big enough to house the entire palace grounds of Dreth.
Thirty-foot-high walls protected the fortress, and a water-filled moat surrounded the fortress. Light flickered off water cascading down the wall in the far, right corner of the chamber. After circling the palace, the water disappeared into the rock face on the left side of the room.
“Amazing.”
Chapter Fourteen
Farrell didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until Kwend smiled.
“Ages ago, the inhabitants of Colograd debated building a city in this space in imitation of Trellham. After much deliberation and prayer, the dwarves reserved this for our monarch. It is a source of great pride that guests marvel at the strength and beauty of our home when they first arrive. This fortress also serves as the place we will make our last stand in the unlikely event our outer defenses are ever breached.”
Farrell scanned the area for signs of magical defenses. The fact he hadn’t done the same when they entered irked him. At first he saw nothing, but as he released his wizard’s sight, he caught a glimpse of . . . something. Reengaging his sight, he checked again. A faint, almost invisible, aura surrounded the doors.
“Not magic,” he whispered and moved closer.
Two spears immediately crossed in front of him, and he stepped back.
“Chosen?” Father Aresham stared at the guards before turning back to Farrell. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He shook his head. Nothing apart from nearly being skewered by the guards. “There is some power that protects the doors. I wanted a closer look.”
Aresham’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me what you see.”
Staring at the rock again, he ignored the way the priest commanded him. “It’s faint, or at least faint to me. It mimics how a magical spell would work, but it is not magic. I’ve not seen its like before.”
He looked into the hard stare of the priest. Refusing to back down, Farrell returned the glare. At first he thought the shadowy aura had come from the surrounding doors, but it hadn’t. He opened his eyes wider.
“It’s some kind of temple magic?”
Farrell knew certain nonwizard clerics could open Doors, and dozens had helped carve out the insides of Haven, but he’d never heard of anything like defensive spells. He’d been in enough temples and holy places that he’d have noticed.
“I . . . you must ask Father Wasquar that question. I am not able to answer you.”
“Father Wasquar? Should I know him?”
Aresham shook his head. “Doubtful, Chosen. He is Khron’s high priest in Colograd.”
“That’s helpful,” Miceral said.
“Actually it’s quite clear. I’m right, but I’ve never seen, or even heard of anything like this before.” He’d need to wait to speak to the high priest to confirm his hypothesis, but the evidence was there.
As Kwend led them through the gates, an officer shouted a command, and their escort marched off. The four guards inside the palace grounds took positions around the guests.
Light poured into the cavern from an enormous crystal embedded in the ceiling. Here Farrell saw magic, but unlike the crystal in Trellham, this one bathed the chamber in actual sunlight. The effect was stunning. Farrell had never seen the outside simulated as nearly perfect as it was here.
The sound of the front gate opening interrupted Farrell’s attention from the light source. He’d been so engrossed in his examination, he didn’t realize they’d crossed almost half the distance to the palace. As he watched the entrance, a column of soldiers exited at a jog toward them.
“The king honors you with an escort.” Kwend sounded surprised. “He dispatched his personal guards to bear you into his home.”
“I take it he doesn’t do this often?” Miceral asked.
“Often isn’t the correct word.” Kwend watched the approaching soldiers. “It is customary to send the royal guards to escort visiting heads of state, but we don’t see many of those in Colograd.”
Farrell counted ten rows of four as the sound of armored dwarves filled the cavern. In the front row, a dwarf carried a pennant bearing the twin silver hammers of Colograd. Kwend’s pace increased slightly, and Farrell had to push himself to keep up.
A few minutes after the company emerged from the palace, the two groups met up. From the ranks of the new company, a young dwarf strode forward.
“King Thrinton?” Kwend and the guards sank to their knees.
Thrinton was slightly taller than most of his guards. His simple armor matched that of his soldiers, lacking any extra adornment to set him apart. The king carried a sword instead of a spear and wore a thin circlet of platinum on his head.
Farrell and Miceral bowed politely while Nerti and Klissmor remained still.
Thrinton bowed to the unicorns, drawing a few gasps from those around him. The unicorns returned the king’s act of respect with a nod.
“Noble Nerti, eldest of all monarchs and beloved of Lenore, you honor Colograd with your presence. Welcome and find comfort in my kingdom.”
“Ever have the dwarves of Colograd been gracious and generous hosts.” Nerti bowed her head a second time. “It pleases Klissmor and I to greet you as king. Though we regret the passing of your sire, Colograd is fortunate to be ruled by so wise a dwarf.”
“You honor me beyond my worth, Queen Nerti.”
“Nay, in my long life, that is something I’ve never done.”
“Tis true, King Thrinton. My queen is not one to heap false praise on anyone.” Klissmor’s agreement drew a laugh from the king.
Thrinton moved onto the other guests and inclined his head slightly. “It is my honor to welcome a Servant and the Chosen of Khron to Colograd.”
Farrell bowed more deeply this time, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Miceral do the same.
Miceral responded for them. “The honor is ours, Your Majesty. Colograd is a wondrous place, even from the little we’ve seen.”
“King Thrinton,” Nerti said. “Though I am loath to breach proper etiquette, Khron’s Chosen has exerted great effort to bring us here unnoticed. He requires food and rest. It would be better for us to continue this discussion once we reach the palace.”
Thrinton’s eyes opened wider as he turned toward Farrell. “I can summon a cart if you require assistance, Chosen.”
“No, that isn’t necessary. I’m tired, not on the verge of exhaustion. Nothing a good night’s rest won’t cure.”
“And food,” Nerti added.
“Of course.” Thrinton pointed to a pair of guards near the rear. They saluted the king and ran off. “I’ve already had rooms prepared, and I’ll have food sent to them.”
Thrinton walked with his guests, asking politely about the affairs of the world and their journey. When asked questions about Colograd, the king deftly gave short, vague answers that told them little. After the third nonanswer, Farrell stopped asking, and they soon reached the entrance.
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 84