Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Greetings, brother,” Miceral said, and they both bowed slightly.

  Drendar’s control wavered and he nearly smiled. “You honor me with your respect.”

  “No more than you showed me last night, Drendar.” Farrell smiled at the older dwarf.

  Drendar’s lips finally curled up ever so slightly, and his eyes twinkled. Everyone sat down except Wasquar, who, as eldest priest, gave a short prayer to Khron. When he finished, Farrell stood up.

  “I do not wish to tread on tradition, but I fear Miceral and I need to address the reason we came to Colograd. I used the Eye of Honorus this morning, and it appears Meglar and his vassals are getting ready to march on Agloth. I . . . we . . . need to return as quickly as we can.”

  “How long do we have to get ready?” Drendar asked.

  Farrell stared at him. “My apologies, King Drendar, but I don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “How long do we have before you depart? We need to know how long we have to assemble our troops. Or were you planning to depart without leaving us any instructions on how our armies can join you?”

  Farrell opened and closed his mouth. Miceral was surprised, as well.

  “Do I understand you are offering to accompany us to Agloth?” Miceral asked.

  “No, lad, we’re not offering, we’re telling you that we’re coming.” Drendar’s voice was part gruff, part amused. “Trellham’s army is currently unavailable. It would be a disgrace to all dwarves for our high kings to head into battle without a sea of dwarves behind them.”

  Thrinton nodded his approval. “Drendar and I spoke last night and agreed if you rode off to war, we would join you.”

  “We are humbled by your support, my lords,” Farrell said. “It’s beyond anything I expected.”

  “Ha!” Drendar smacked the table. “Shows you don’t know dwarves all that well.”

  “They may not, but I do,” Aswick said. “I’m quite certain you hadn’t agreed to rally around the new kings when we left this room yesterday.”

  “’Tis true, Father Aswick, I was not happy with Khron’s choice.” Drendar snapped his fingers, and a guard leaned closer. He whispered something Farrell didn’t hear, and the soldier handed him a small piece of paper. He wrote something down and handed it back. The guard read the note, saluted, and left the room.

  “My apologies. I needed to send word to my generals.” Drendar stood and gripped the back of his chair. “My fear was you might be too soft to lead our people. The high king needed to be someone who wouldn’t abandon us if the fight got difficult. Assurances aside, I needed to know, not be told, but to feel it in my heart that you would stay for the end. I’ve no experience with Muchari, but humans have a history of surrendering and allowing themselves to be assimilated into a new kingdom. That’s not an option for dwarves.”

  Drendar tugged at his beard and stared at the table. “Yesterday, after the meeting I heard you two were sparring. That alone got my attention. A human fighting a Muchari? I didn’t know what to expect. I assumed Miceral would go easy on you, or it would be just for show.

  “I arrived full of prejudices against you, Farrell, that I kept waiting for you to fulfill. But you didn’t.” Drendar held up his hand when Farrell tried to speak. “Hear me out—this is hard enough without you arguing with me. You’re a good fighter. Better than I expected from a wizard, but you were no match for Miceral. You gave it a good try, but you never tested his defenses. I watched him penetrate your defenses time and again—bet you have a few bruises to show for it.”

  “A few.” Farrell resisted the urge to rub the worst of them.

  Drendar snorted softly. “I thought so. Yet you never backed down. Every time he knocked you down or scored a hit, you went right back at him. You’ve got grit, Farrell, and you showed me you wouldn’t abandon a fight until it’s over.”

  “Drendar has captured the essence of what I feel as well,” Thrinton said. “While he is more vocal, I, too, harbored many of the same fears he expressed. A dwarf king must be able to stand firm in the face of an overwhelming adversary and make his troops believe they can still win. Although I will follow the commands of my gods, I was looking for a sign you would make good high kings.”

  “Our training session was enough to convince you both?” Farrell asked.

  “Half of those who watched your fight think you’re insane, and the other half think you’re the bravest fool they ever met,” Thrinton answered.

  “Only the foolish or the truly brave would subject themselves to what you did,” Drendar said. “That you are a powerful wizard who has no need to use a sword or other weapon only serves to enhance our notion of what you are really about.”

  Farrell didn’t know if Drendar had insulted him and looked to Father Aswick.

  “Take it as a compliment,” Aswick said as if reading his mind. “Dwarves aren’t the most eloquent of races.”

  Everyone laughed, including Farrell. “Thank you.”

  “Since I know you’re all thinking it, I don’t have a choice. Khron has already decided you’re the new kings.”

  “Yes, but just because you have to accept us doesn’t mean you have to embrace us,” Miceral said. “We recognize the decision you’ve made and thank you for it.”

  “So let’s get on with our real business.” Drendar looked as uncomfortable with praise as Farrell felt. “You were saying you needed to leave soon, but you were telling us why you came to Colograd.”

  “Right.” Farrell let the others sit before he continued. “As you all know, our purpose in coming here was not to be crowned kings of Trellham but rather to locate the Mind of Falcron.” He withdrew the gleaming blue stone. “Using the Eye of Honorus, I believe I know where it is.”

  With the exception of Miceral, everyone in the room leaned closer and stared at the Eye.

  “If you know where it is, why haven’t you retrieved it yet?” Aswick asked.

  “The Eye has shown me where it rests, but I don’t know where that place is other than in Colograd. It’s like saying it’s on the beach on the West Coast of Dumbarten.” Farrell faced Thrinton. “I also would like your permission to take it.”

  “My permission is hardly necessary.” Thrinton rose. “You may commandeer whatever you need to defend the dwarf nations.”

  “Thank you, Thrinton, but unless the need is dire, we won’t claim or take anything from Fracturn or Colograd without asking. If Trellham assumed an air of superiority in the past, those days are over. The dwarf nations shall speak with one voice because there is consensus and agreement, not because the high kings made a decree.”

  “Those are lofty and admirable goals, Farrell.” Drendar stood up as well with a smirk on his lips. “However, with dwarves, it is sometimes necessary to take what you need. Though we usually come to the right decision, sometimes we need a bit of prodding.” The other dwarves laughed and nodded.

  “As my brother Drendar said, we don’t always agree, but it will not take an appearance from Khron for me to aid you in your fight against Neldin’s Servant. If you need the Mind of Falcron, you may have it.”

  “If he can find it,” Drendar said without any malice. “If the Eye can’t direct him, how can we help?”

  “How did it even get here?” Lamenar’s question was met with nodding and small grunts of agreement.

  “I’ve thought long and hard over this very question since Farrell arrived and told me it was here,” Thrinton said. “Father Wasquar and I requested Father Mendox, high priest of Falcron, join us this morning. Hopefully his temple knows the answer.”

  “What of you, Farrell?” Aswick asked. “Did the Eye tell you how it got here?”

  Farrell shook his head. “I didn’t ask that question.”

  “Could it tell you?” Wasquar asked.

  “I don’t know. If Falcron doesn’t want me to know, He could hide that from the Eye. Also, even if I could see who brought it here and in what manner, I won’t know why.”

  “How would be a sta
rt,” Lamenar said.

  Before Farrell responded, someone knocked and the doors slowly opened. A young dwarf, dressed in the blue robes of Falcron, waited patiently until both doors came to a rest. He entered the room with a confident step.

  Thrinton nodded to the priest but didn’t speak until the room had been sealed again. “Greetings, Father Mendox. Thank you for coming.”

  “I could hardly ignore the request of my king, let alone pass up an opportunity to address this historic gathering.” He smiled as he glanced about the room. His gaze lingered longest on Farrell and Miceral, but not long enough to be rude. “How may I serve?”

  Thirteen motioned toward one of his guards, who brought forward a chair and placed it beside Father Wasquar. The king gestured to the chair, and Father Mendox moved to take a seat at the table.

  “What can you tell us about the Mind of Falcron?” Thrinton asked.

  “I know what all in my temple know.” Farrell noted a brief instant of surprise in Mendox’s eyes. “As youngest of the Seven, our wise Father bestowed upon all the people of this world the gift of wisdom. When He presented the Mind to His followers, He said, ‘Wisdom is not knowledge, but knowledge can aid wisdom. Wisdom cannot be taught, but it can be learned. My Gift will aid all who seek wisdom for the right reasons.’ We who serve the Holy Father must learn those words the moment we join the temple.”

  Falcron’s words, recited by His priest, confirmed Farrell’s suspicions from the banquet. The God of Wisdom had made His presence known to Farrell.

  Thrinton nodded. “Do you know who has possession of the Mind right now?”

  The young priest looked around the table. “May I ask why the sudden interest in the Mind of Falcron?”

  “You may, but I will ask that you answer my question before you put any to me.”

  “If I or the temple knew that answer, we would not divulge it to anyone.”

  “Not even to your king?” Thrinton’s voice remained neutral.

  Mendox looked to his fellow prelates for assistance but found no help in their faces. “As Father Wasquar will attest, a priest’s loyalty is first and foremost to his god, as it should be for all dwarves. Where my duties to my temple conflict with the commands of my king, I must decline my king’s request.”

  A raised eyebrow was all the reaction Thrinton gave the answer. “Should I take from your answer that you know where the Mind is but will not tell me?”

  “No, Your Majesty, you should not,” Mendox said calmly. “My response was purely hypothetical.”

  “A thousand crowns he knows where we can find Falcron’s Gift,” Miceral said silently to Farrell.

  Farrell didn’t react to the statement outwardly. “That’s a fool’s bet.”

  “Understood,” Thrinton said after a long pause. “I’ll not ask you to choose today, but can you explain how the Mind of Falcron came to be hidden in Colograd?”

  A slight flush betrayed Mendox. “Here again, if that information was in my custody, I could not answer you.”

  “Nonsense, child,” Wasquar said loudly. “The Mind of Falcron is in Colograd. We do not need you to confirm this; we already know it’s here. What we want to know is how it got in Colograd.”

  Mendox licked his lips and swallowed. “Father Wasquar, any explanation I might give would acknowledge that, in fact, the Mind is in Colograd. I can neither confirm nor deny its location. Furthermore . . .”

  Mendox stopped speaking when Farrell stood up and held up the blue Eye of Honorus.

  “Father Mendox, I’m sure you recognize the Eye of Honorus. You can be certain I know the Mind is here, and I know where to find it. If it would help, I can go retrieve it, and then you can answer King Thrinton.” He hoped Mendox didn’t call his bluff.

  A chorus of affirmative grunts and words emerged from around the table. Drendar’s voice was among the loudest. Mendox found no support in the room. He closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly.

  “Prayer is a good thing for those in doubt,” Aswick said.

  Mendox opened his eyes and sighed. “I have no clear guidance from the Holy Father, so I’m forced to proceed as I deem wisest.”

  Rising to his feet, Mendox only came to Thrinton’s nose and lacked the thickness of the other dwarves in the room. He kept his hair long and pulled back in a braid, but unlike the others in the room, he was clean-shaven. Small wire glasses sat snugly on his long, thin nose. If a bookish and studious dwarf had a look, the high priest was the model.

  “Let me begin by saying I don’t know where the Mind lies hidden. How it came to Colograd, however, is a tale well preserved in my temple.” Mendox removed his glasses before continuing. “The priests of Falcron often travel to other temples to learn new things and, hopefully, wisdom. Shortly after the great shame of our people, a group of priests arrived from the lands around Fracturn. Among their numbers were humans and dwarves—perhaps even a Muchari, but it is difficult to tell your two races apart.”

  Miceral nodded at the mention of his kind. “That is how the Holy Mother intended it, Father Mendox.”

  “Of course.” Mendox returned the nod. “One of the humans, a young priest named Endis, requested a private meeting with the high priest of Colograd to discuss a matter of some importance.”

  Farrell held up a hand. “You said the human priest’s name was Endis?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Mendox smiled. “You recognize the name, no doubt.”

  “Of course. Endis left his temple at the request of his god and joined with a priestess of Seritia and founded the Kingdom of Endor.”

  “The same Endis had joined the main temple to Falcron in Bowient, several hundred miles north of Fracturn. Recorded among the annuals of our temple is the substance of that private meeting.” Mendox withdrew a small leather-bound book from the sleeve of his robe. “This is the personal diary of the high priest of Colograd. Passed down from high priest to high priest, the book contains all the truly important events that occur in the world and in Colograd. It has an explanation of how the Mind came to Colograd.”

  The priest opened the book and scanned several pages silently before he looked over his glasses. “The diary is long and wordy, so allow me to summarize.”

  “Despite his willingness to share, Father Mendox does not want to share everything,” Aswick whispered to Miceral.

  “Endis was a humble priest who did not aspire to the future heights he attained. Falcron appeared to Endis while he was studying in his room. Before he could speak, the high priest burst into Endis’s room and shut and bolted the door. Falcron nodded, and the high priest handed Endis a small maple box. Smooth and highly polished, the box was unadorned and unremarkable.

  “As Endis stared at the box, Falcron spoke.” Mendox turned the page and began to read. “In your hands is My Gift to the world. Many wish to possess it, but few would gain much from its acquisition. Long has it been housed in this temple, but the time has come for it to find a new home. The fight between My Siblings and Our wayward Brother is over for now. But in a distant future, My Brother will return and seek retribution on all who sided against Him. Against that day, My Gift needs to be where My Champion can find it when the time is right.”

  Mendox turned the page and then another before continuing. “Endis told my predecessor he heard the words, but they failed to register at first. Soon he realized Falcron had stopped speaking, and he asked, ‘What has this to do with me, my lord?’

  “Falcron is said to have smiled and said, ‘You must first take My Gift to the dwarf kingdom of Colograd. The dwarves wrongly fault themselves for Neldin’s evil, and I am giving them this task so they can redeem themselves by guarding My Gift.’”

  Mendox closed the book. “The rest I know without reading. An escort of priests from around the world was assembled. In this, Endis was simply one of many priests making the journey, and no undue attention would fall on him. The other priests were not told Endis possessed the Mind, and he was told not to reveal its presence. When Endis arri
ved, he brought his treasure to the temple of Khron.”

  “What?” Wasquar shouted. “Are you suggesting the Mind of Falcron is somewhere in Khron’s temple?”

  “Not suggesting, Wasquar, I’m telling you. Endis gave the Mind of Falcron to the high priest of Khron for Colograd, who hid it in the temple of Khron.”

  “Impossible!” Wasquar shook his head vigorously. “If a priest of Falcron handed over one of the seven most valuable objects in the world to my predecessor, it would have been recorded, just as Endis’s actions were preserved for all time.”

  “Unless someone told him not to write it down,” Miceral said.

  “Exactly so, Your Majesty,” Mendox said. “Our records indicate the high priest of Khron expected Endis’s arrival and understood he was not to leave any record of the visit or where he hid the Mind.”

  Mendox returned the book to his sleeve and sat. “That is how the Mind of Falcron came to be in Colograd. I’m sorry it did not prove more exciting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Once you have the Mind of Falcron, do you intend to leave right away?” Thrinton asked.

  “Not immediately, but I’d prefer not to wait too long.” Farrell glanced at Miceral to be sure he had it right. “Most likely tomorrow.”

  “That’s not much time, but it’s not impossible,” Thrinton said to Drendar.

  Drendar nodded. “It will require we begin moving troops now.”

  “How many soldiers are you talking about?” Miceral asked.

  “I can have fifteen thousand dwarves ready to march by sundown,” Thrinton said.

  “I can have a like number in the same time, but getting them here will take significantly longer.” Drendar’s eyes focused on the table, and his hand moved over an invisible image. “The Door between Fracturn and Colograd is not wide enough to march more than four abreast. Moving that many troops will take the better part of another day.”

  “Nerti? Have you been following this conversation?” After Farrell asked, he realized how stupid he sounded. “Sorry, of course you have.”