Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  The group passed under a stone arch into a small room. Directly opposite them, Farrell saw a door guarded by two sets of dwarves in different uniforms. The pair on the right had on the livery of Colograd; the others wore black and silver.

  Cres stopped and snapped to attention. “My lords, it has been a singular honor to have forged your armor and escorted you to this historic event. Here is where I must take my leave. Such meetings are not meant for simple craftsmen as I. Accept my best wishes for a long and prosperous reign.” He bowed deeply.

  “Master Cres, you honor us with your skill,” Miceral said. “Coins alone could not repay you for their value. Whenever we wear your armor, we will give thanks to Khron for Master Cres and his amazing skill.”

  Farrell nodded his agreement, and together they bowed in unison. Cres blushed but nodded to acknowledge the tribute.

  “Wear it well, Your Majesties.” He turned and walked off before anyone could reply.

  “Shall we see what this meeting holds?” Miceral asked.

  “Do we have a choice?” Farrell maintained a neutral expression.

  As they approached the door, the four guards rapped the butts of their spears on the ground three times. The loud click of a lock turning answered the act, and the doors cracked open slowly. The dwarves moved forward one deliberate step at a time until they cleared the sweeping reach of the deceptively massive doors. Six dwarves pushed hard from the inside to open the doors. The slabs of stone were wider than an average dwarf, but despite their size, they made no sound as they moved.

  The four guards assumed a position in front of the approaching group. Aswick’s guards positioned themselves two in front and back and two on each side. One of the guards opening the doors looked over and gasped. A stern look from Aswick silenced the dwarf.

  “What was that about?” Miceral asked.

  “Each king is allotted two guards at these meetings. The high king is allowed three. As high priest I may bring two guards as well. I’m sure the guard counted our number and realized what it meant.”

  “If it will make the others feel better, you can dismiss all but your two.” Miceral glanced at Farrell, who nodded his agreement. “I don’t feel as if they are mine to command.”

  “For the moment allow them to remain. They were sent by Thrinton to afford you the proper honor. At a minimum you will have two voices to support your right to bring these guards, his and mine, and the other three know it. That knowledge ought to head off any protest.”

  “How Drendar and Lamenar react will be informative.” Nerti’s voice nearly broke Farrell’s expression.

  They crossed the threshold and into the Chamber of Kings. Inside, the conversations ceased, and all turned toward the newcomers. Their guards led them to a large three-sided table in the center of the room. King Thrinton sat facing the door with Father Wasquar to his left.

  To Thrinton’s right stood a proud, middle-aged dwarf with a massive war hammer strapped on his hip. He wore a gold circlet with many gems, and his black-and-silver hair was pulled back and knotted behind him. King Drendar stood before his chair and had been in a spirited debate with Colograd’s monarch when the party entered.

  Seated to Drendar’s right and closest to the door was another prelate. Lamenar appeared older than his king but younger than Aswick and Wasquar.

  Behind each king stood three guards, two in the king’s uniform, one in the raiment of the temple. Thrinton’s guards ignored the newcomers, but the three from Fracturn followed the procession with keen interest.

  Moving to their right, the guards brought them to Thrinton’s left. Two chairs had been pushed under the table. Farrell separated the pair, closed his eyes, and summoned a third chair. A small flash of light accompanied its arrival and caused everyone to gasp again.

  The soldiers and Drendar reached for their weapons but relaxed when nothing further happened.

  Pulling out the third chair, he glanced over as if nothing unusual had happened. “My apologies, but there were only two chairs for the three of us.” Farrell met Drendar’s reproachful stare with complete calm. “I assume you didn’t intend for one of us to stand.”

  The eight guards stepped back to allow Aswick and the two new kings to sit. Drendar continued to glare at the newcomers before he confronting Thrinton.

  “See?” His loud voice filled the chamber. “No respect for our traditions or the proper rules of etiquette.”

  “What rules would those be, my lord?” Farrell moved to get comfortable. He sat ramrod straight, giving Fracturn’s king a clear view of his armor.

  Drendar sputtered and tried to speak, but Thrinton spoke up first. “Drendar feels this is all improper, and that you both will trample on the careful balance the three kingdoms have maintained since our founding. The tradition our brother speaks of holds you must be invited to sit by the host king.” Thrinton turned to face Drendar. “I suspect Khron failed to give them a lesson on the niceties of our council.”

  Miceral and Farrell stood immediately. Miceral spoke first. “My apologies, Thrinton. We meant no disrespect. We were told the high king chairs the meeting and wrongly assumed you were waiting for our arrival.”

  “None taken,” Thrinton answered, motioning for them to be seated. “In truth, it’s been three thousand years since the last full council meeting. I’m certain we will all forget many of the rules. My father schooled me in the traditions, but without an opportunity to use those skills, I fear I’ve forgotten many of them.”

  “No need to worry, Your Majesty,” Aswick said. “I’ve had almost three hundred years with little to do but read and study. I can cite the rules backward and forward.” This drew a laugh from all but Drendar and Lamenar. The sour looks on their faces threatened to curdle all the milk in Colograd.

  Farrell avoided Drendar’s glare and spoke to Thrinton. “With your leave, Your Majesty, I would like to say something before we start.”

  “Of course, Farrell. As King Miceral correctly stated, you chair this meeting.” His use of the word king drew a loud “humph” from Drendar.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Farrell stood and bowed to Colograd’s king. “First let me say this is an honor I neither expected nor requested. Honorus ordered me to accept the crown or else I would have deferred.”

  “Honorus, eh?” Drendar interrupted. “Are you asking us to believe Honorus appeared and ordered you to accept the crown of Trellham?”

  “Yes!” Aswick stood and slammed both palms onto the top of the table. “That is precisely what happened. I was present when Honorus appeared and told Farrell he could not refuse the crown of Trellham.” Aswick let his gaze bore into Drendar before he continued. “I suggest you learn to accept that Khron and Honorus have made a decision you do not agree with. Khron’s order was clear. If you don’t approve, I’m certain Khron will find someone else to rule Fracturn, someone who will obey His will.”

  “That was subtle,” Miceral said.

  Drendar stood up, and his hand reached for his weapon. Thrinton’s guards grabbed theirs and moved closer to the king. Farrell stood up and walked behind Aswick. The priest showed no hint of backing down. He placed a hand on Aswick’s shoulder, causing him to look up.

  “Thank you, Father, we appreciate your support.” Farrell had hoped Aswick would have been the calming influence, but that hadn’t happened.

  He nodded, and Aswick sat back down. “Drendar, please calm down—”

  “King Drendar to you.”

  “Very well, King Drendar; I had hoped to speak as friends and allies, not in formal diplomatic tones, but I’ll respect your wishes.” Farrell’s shields flickered a pale blue to remind Drendar of his power. “But it’s High King Farrell to you, and you will refrain from interrupting me.”

  Drendar’s body remained tense and his jaw clenched. Farrell knew he was about to attack, but Father Lamenar put a hand on the king’s arm and smothered the hot flame of anger.

  “My lord, High King Farrell is correct. Khron Himself told
us Farrell and Miceral would be the new kings. It is pointless to continue this course of action. Holy Khron does not look kindly on His servants ignoring His expressed will. Given how active the gods have been in this issue, if you persist, it will be as Father Aswick suggested. Khron will remove you from the throne.”

  “There has been no coronation to proclaim them kings.” The fire in Drendar’s words had cooled. “The gods may yet change Their minds.”

  “You grasp at ash,” Aswick said. “The coronation of the kings of Trellham is held before the citizens of Trellham by Khron’s high priest. I am not only the high priest, but I’m also the sole denizen of Trellham. If all you need is for a coronation to take place, I shall do it right here, right now. No matter what you desire, it won’t change that they are the rightful kings of Trellham and all that entails.”

  Drendar sat down without responding.

  “King Drendar.” Miceral stood up, and Farrell returned to his seat. “Aside from the obvious, what other concerns do you have that we might address?”

  Drendar took his time before answering. “The obvious is hard to just set aside, Miceral.”

  Keeping a smile off his face took an effort, but Farrell managed. Drendar’s failure to use Miceral’s title ended the first skirmish. The battle continued, but the opening sortie went to him and Miceral.

  “Agreed.” Miceral nodded. “But Honorus gave us no room to decline this honor. That means, like it or not, we need to find a way to carry out the will of the Six.”

  Drendar sighed. “It is bitter ale to swallow, but one I have no choice but to accept.”

  “How can we make it less difficult?” Farrell asked.

  Drendar met his gaze. “Time. It will take time for me to accept this.”

  “Time is not something we have an abundance of, King Drendar,” Farrell said. “Neldin has chosen a new Champion and seeks to renew the war started three thousand years ago in Trellham. Miceral and I are gathering weapons and allies on behalf of the Six. We can’t—won’t—tarry long in Colograd.”

  “Do not expect me to turn over my army for you to lead them as you will.” Drendar’s conciliatory tone vanished.

  “I believe we have arrived at the true nature of Drendar’s displeasure.” Nerti’s comment reminded Farrell that she was listening in his mind. “However, it is clear to me the Six chose you to be high kings for this very reason. They expect you to unite the dwarf nations.”

  “I’m not sure now is the time to cram it down his throat.” Farrell had seen this posture often enough before. He didn’t need to antagonize his potential ally.

  “Unacceptable!” Father Wasquar’s voice drew all eyes to him. He stood and addressed Drendar. “In times of war, the high king is the commander of all our forces. It was the entire purpose of the arrangement. Neldin’s return puts the will of Khron into perspective. All dwarves will unite behind the high kings.”

  “I must agree with Father Wasquar,” Lamenar said. He drew a stern look from his king, but he shook his head. “Khron would not have made such an unprecedented and controversial move to appoint nondwarves as our high kings unless He felt it necessary. Miceral and Farrell were chosen precisely so they can lead our warriors in this fight. Miceral is a servant of Khron, and Farrell is His Chosen. Farrell is also Chosen of Lenore, Arritisa, and Seritia, as well as the Champion of the Six. That alone commands your allegiance.”

  “King Drendar.” Farrell waited until he had everyone’s attention. “As a ruler, I understand your concern. I would not lightly turn over my troops, men and women I have sworn to protect and lead wisely. Knowing this, you can be assured we would never undertake any action without your express involvement.”

  The silence that followed dragged on for long, tense moments. Finally Thrinton pushed back his chair and stood. “Khron has spoken, and I cannot fail to obey. We live in troubled times not seen since the dark days of Trellham. I, too, share the hesitation of my brother Drendar, but I must trust in Holy Khron to guide me. Farrell, Miceral, Colograd’s resources are at your disposal.” He bowed deeply. “But know this. Should you fail to rule wisely or needlessly endanger my people, I shall oppose you with all I have in me. That is not a threat, only a reminder that I do not abdicate my responsibility to my dwarves who have placed their trust and faith in me and my ancestors for thousands of years.”

  Miceral bowed, and Farrell followed his partner’s lead. Miceral spoke first. “King Thrinton, on behalf of us both, I accept the responsibility you placed on us and acknowledge your warning as fair and proper. I would expect nothing less from you but offer you my word we will not put you in such a position.”

  Thrinton inclined his head slightly. “I expect you will not or else I’d not offer my support.”

  Drendar watched his fellow king with an expression Farrell couldn’t read. He sighed, placed his hands on the table and spoke to Thrinton. “Your fealty places me in an awkward position, brother. Should I fail to do the same, I shall find myself at odds with you and Colograd.”

  “Not to mention Haven, Dumbarten, and Trellham once Farrell frees our brethren,” Aswick added.

  Lamenar gasped softly. “Only the heir of Kel can free the captives of Trellham.”

  “And Kel’s heir I am.” Farrell looked at Aswick for support. “My mother was Queen Zenora of Yar-del.”

  The room erupted in shouts, with only Trellham’s delegation keeping quiet. Finally Drendar pounded the table. “The son of Meglar will never rule my dwarves.”

  “Fool.” Aswick finally spoke. “Khron has chosen him, and he is the Servant of Honorus. He is no more his father’s son then you or I. Fracturn shall serve the will of Khron and the Six with or without you as its current king.”

  Farrell spoke before Drendar could respond. “King Drendar, your fears are well founded. Meglar is my father. He also killed my mother and many others who I held dear. For that alone I intend to kill him or die trying.

  “But I need your help. Not just your army, but your wisdom and counsel. Khron may call me high king, and maybe I can use that title to take command of your people, but without you, they will be poorly led. Miceral and I understand that we cannot lead your people without you, nor do we wish to try.

  “If after careful thought you cannot bring yourself to accept us, we will not force you. You will be free to return to Fracturn without reprisal.” He put a hand on Aswick to stay his words. “Should Khron remove you from the throne, that is His right, but I’ll not pit dwarf against dwarf, nor march troops against you for doing what you believe is in the best interest of your dwarves. I will have no quarrel with you should you find it impossible to trust the son of Meglar to lead your warriors.” He bowed to Drendar and sat down.

  “Well said, Little One,” Nerti said. “He cannot refuse to accept you now.”

  Farrell kept silent. Despite the dwarf’s temper and arrogance, Farrell also saw a king trying to protect his dwarves. He didn’t deserve to be forced into compromising that duty, not even by the gods.

  Drendar blinked, and his expression changed. The doubt remained, but it felt less angry. “Though you meant to be generous, you’ve left me in a more uncomfortable position.”

  “Would it help if we adjourned so you may consider your decision in private?”

  Drendar laughed, and it lacked any humor. “You are generous, Farrell. Were the situation reversed, I would not let you leave without an answer.”

  “Your decision must be freely made. I’ll not let the Six turn me into a hammer to force others to serve me. If the Six do not like your decision, it will fall to Them to tell you.”

  “I accept your offer and will retire now. I’ll give you my answer tomorrow.” Drendar rose and bowed deeply to Farrell and Miceral in a show of respect he’d not previously given them. He motioned for his guards and left the room.

  Lamenar stood up after the king left and smiled. “Wisdom on that scale is something dwarves do not expect from a human, wizard or otherwise. Drendar is a proud dwarf, not a
ccustomed to being told what to do. He also has no choice but to accept you both, and he knows it.

  “More than anything else you could have done, telling him you will not force him to accept you as high kings has won you his respect. Now he can say after careful consideration, he agrees it is best to accept you both as high kings, and none can dispute he had a choice in the matter. That small gesture has not only earned you his respect, but more likely than not, his friendship as well. Nicely done, Your Majesty.” Lamenar bowed deeply and left the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Drendar’s early departure ended the meeting. Without all three kingdoms present, the high council could not conduct any business. Aswick, Lamenar, and Wasquar departed to discuss whatever high priests talked about in private, leaving Thrinton and Trellham’s new kings alone.

  “Not what I expected when I arrived.” Thrinton laughed. “You did well to offer Drendar a choice free of reprisal. As Lamenar said, Drendar has but two options—agree to follow Khron’s will or be removed from the throne. Neither choice is to his liking, but accepting you both as high kings is definitely the lesser evil for him.”

  Farrell laughed. “If given the same choice, I’d refuse just so I’d be removed.”

  Thrinton’s smile faded. “You really don’t want to be king?”

  “No.” There was no sense elaborating. Aswick had already explained why he didn’t have that choice.

  “I’m not sure if I find that comforting or disturbing. A few dwarves who craved power nearly brought ruin to the world three thousand years ago. But a king who doesn’t want to rule might be worse.”

  “I’ll give you the chance to take back your allegiance if you wish.”

  Thrinton shook his head. “It is too late for that. Besides, a war is coming, a war that dwarves brought on the world. We are going to be part of the fight. We need someone to lead us, and Khron has said it will be the kings of Trellham.”

  “You don’t seem bothered by that,” Miceral said.

  “For centuries the kings of Fracturn coveted the title, High King of the Dwarves. Time and again, they’ve proclaimed themselves successors to Trellham’s kings. Colograd never accepted their claim, but neither have we ever asserted a claim of our own. My ancestors have politely pointed out that Trellham would one day be restored and unless the gods announced otherwise, the king of Trellham would be high king again.