“Yes, Little One, I am informed. Is there something you need?”
“Can you ask Jolella if I’m allowed to open a Door into the center of Agloth?”
“Yes.” She disappeared from his thoughts without another word.
“Even if we get your troops here in a day,” Thrinton said, “the bigger issue is, how do we get them to Agloth in time to be of help in its defense? I don’t want to force march an army to the battle and have them so worn out they are decimated in the fight.”
“I agree.” Drendar tapped the table again. “We could ask the temple of Seritia to let us use their Doors.”
“If I may?” Farrell said. “Let me retrieve the Mind of Falcron, and then I’ll deal with the troop movements. I should have no trouble opening a Door from Fracturn to Colograd that will let you move your troops here in a few hours, not days. And I’ve asked Mother Jolella for permission to open a Door from here to Agloth. If that is approved, you can move all your troops to Agloth in two days or less with no issues of fatigue.”
“Still think wizards are useless?” Aswick asked.
“I never said useless.” Drendar took the ribbing with a smile. “I said I have no use for them—until today.”
The group laughed, and Miceral had a look that alarmed Farrell.
“Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Miceral asked, trying to sound innocent.
“Just don’t say anything, please?”
“Now that that’s settled.” Miceral clapped his hands. “Why don’t we try to find the Mind?”
“As interested as I am in finding it,” Thrinton said, “I will leave that to others while I work on mobilizing Colograd’s forces.”
“Yes.” Drendar patted his war hammer. “I’ve sent the message, but I should make sure things are moving as quickly as I expect.”
“Do you want to go with them?” Farrell asked Miceral.
“Are you sure?”
The way he asked told Farrell his partner would rather go with the other kings. “Go. This won’t be nearly as interesting.”
“If it’s agreeable to you both, I’d like to observe the muster,” Miceral said. “Farrell can give me the details of his excursion later.”
“Of course, Miceral, please join us,” Thrinton said. “I would welcome your input.”
“I doubt I’ll have much to offer, but I’d still like to see an army of dwarves before we get to Agloth.”
The smiles on the faces of Miceral and the dwarf kings reminded Farrell of children going out to play. Seeing his life partner acting as though he’d been asked to join the “big boys” put a smile on his lips.
Wasquar suddenly appeared next to Farrell. “They’re like overgrown children. If we weren’t about to take our people into a war, I’d join them in their excitement.”
“I know they understand the consequences of war and they are not making light of it, but I can’t smile anymore when I organize an army for battle.” Farrell remembered Ostert and before him, Clement. “Every time I do it, I lose someone dear to me. The harsh reality is too brutal.”
“For Thrinton and Drendar, this is the first true war in their lifetime,” Lamenar said. “Colograd has never been attacked, and Fracturn’s last battle was nearly six hundred years ago, well before Drendar’s father’s father’s rule. They understand dwarves will die. Maybe even they will die, but for dwarves, the chance to do something in battle worthy of song is what many live for.”
Farrell didn’t add that many wouldn’t live to hear the song. He noticed Jagwin staring at him and nodded. “Come, let us find the Mind of Falcron.” Wasquar put his hand on Farrell’s arm to stop him from walking off.
“Can you describe the area where it is hidden? I’ve lived there long enough to be able to narrow our search.”
“I can show you.” Farrell recalled the image he’d seen in the Eye and recreated it in the air over the large table. It was as common a wall as any, but Farrell pointed to a blank spot. “Right there. The Mind is in a small vault embedded in that wall.”
“That could be anywhere. I’ve seen walls like that in Trellham,” Aswick said.
Wasquar shook his head. “Even to my eye, it is no different than any bare wall in the temple. Can you provide us a little more information?”
“I believe I can.” Farrell retrieved the Eye and stared into the blue jewel. “Show me the wall where the Mind of Falcron is hidden.”
The image over the table wavered for an instant, then reformed. Farrell willed his view to move back, and it appeared he was watching someone walk backward.
“Father Wasquar.” Farrell spoke slowly so he didn’t lose his focus. “Let me know when you recognize something.”
The corridor in the image was empty and the walls bare. Several more “steps” and they reached a wooden door. Instead of opening it, the image passed through the wood and into a room.
“Great Holy Khron!” Wasquar’s shout nearly broke Farrell’s control. “That’s the hallway behind my bed chamber.”
Farrell blinked, and the scene disappeared. “Then I assume you easily can take us there?” His amusement at the turn of events was hard to hide.
“Jolella informs me that protections exist that bar a wizard from opening a Door inside the walls. However, as Chosen of Seritia, you are permitted to open a Door anywhere in the city.”
“That’s welcome news.” Things were falling into place. “Will you let her know we’re bringing an army of dwarves with us?”
“I already told her when she wanted to know why you made your request.” With that she was gone from his mind again.
“Farrell?” Wasquar said.
“Sorry, Father. Nerti just told me I’m allowed to open a Door directly to Agloth. I must have missed what you said.”
“Quite all right, Your Majesty.” He winked at Farrell. “It may take some getting used to all the different ways you do things, but even an old dwarf like me is willing to try. I asked if you want to go now.”
“Please.” He motioned toward the exit. “Even using a Door, moving thirty thousand dwarves will take time.”
Wasquar led the small group out of the palace and into the open cavern. Until now, Farrell had failed to notice the edifices that circled the city.
“The temples are there to remind the king he serves at the pleasure of the gods,” Wasquar explained when asked.
Similar to Trellham, the temples followed the order of birth. Honorus’s temple sat at the far end of the chamber, facing the entrance Farrell had used when he arrived. To the right were the temples of Khron and Falcron. A blank space occupied the wall between Khron and Honorus’s temples. From the palace, Farrell saw no hint the stone had been altered, but when closer, he saw slight differences in color in the rock face.
Activity to and from the palace had increased noticeably by the time they reached the front of Khron’s temple. Soldiers marched to the palace beside runners going into and out of the residence. The sound of jingling armor echoed about the cavern.
They entered a small, plain door, nothing like a main entrance for a grand temple. It led to a low tunnel, where Farrell needed to duck slightly to avoid scraping his head. Light streamed in from the room beyond. Through the second arch, they entered a long, wide hallway whose ceiling rose sixty feet above the floor. On either side of the corridor, spaced at regular intervals, forty-foot-tall stone dwarves guarded the entrance. Between each pair of statues, Farrell noted a door on the first level, followed by three levels of balconies. At the far end, Farrell saw a door inlaid with gold and jewels.
“This is the king’s entrance to the temple,” Wasquar said. “There are doors on the other three sides of the chapel for the rest of the city.”
Wasquar did not lead them to the fancy door at the end of the hall. Instead, between the third and fourth statue, he turned left and tugged on an ordinary knob.
For an elderly dwarf, the high priest moved surprisingly fast. He led them up a soaring spiral staircase and
down a long corridor lined with the busts of older dwarves.
“These are the faces of my predecessors.” Wasquar pointed to various statues. “You are quite possibly the first human to see this place, Chosen.”
“I’m honored.”
“Bah.” Aswick waved his hand. “He’s also the first Chosen who’s been this way. That’s more impressive.”
None of the dwarves said anything, but Jagwin’s smirk told Farrell his captain of the guard and Trellham’s high priest were going to get along well.
At a door at the end of the hall, they stopped. Wasquar turned the knob and led them into his rooms. His suite consisted of a small anteroom with doors on each of the four walls. He led them to the door directly opposite the entrance and escorted the group into his bedroom.
Farrell recognized the room as the one the Eye had showed him. Without a word, Wasquar walked to the far wall, drew aside a tapestry, and pushed open a hidden door. “I’d forgotten about this passage. I think I’ve opened it less than five times. It leads to an exit on the south side of the mountains. Perhaps it was an escape route built in case of an emergency.”
Wasquar motioned for Farrell to go first, and the four prelates and Jagwin followed him into the dusty corridor. Farrell turned left once inside the tunnel and put his left hand on the wall. He had committed to memory where the vault was located.
Pacing out the distance with his hand extended, he stared at the empty wall. “Dwarf craftsmen built this hiding place so well that even though I know it is here, I still can’t see the seams.”
“If you can’t see anything, how do you know it’s there?” Wasquar asked.
“It’s here.” Farrell pushed forward, using his weight to add force to his efforts. When he felt a click, he released the pressure, and a two-foot by two-foot square appeared and popped open slightly.
Farrell pulled the small door open and reached inside with both hands. He carefully withdrew the small polished box that rested within. Placing the box gently on the ground, he opened the lid and withdrew a small leather-bound book.
“Seems awfully small to contain such great wisdom,” Wasquar said.
“Falcron’s Gift was wisdom, Father, not knowledge.” Farrell carefully turned the cover to the first page. Almost immediately he turned the page and then the next before he grabbed the pages in one hand and quickly flipped through to the end. When he reached the back cover, he laughed. “What is so funny?” Aswick asked.
Instead of voicing an answer, Farrell handed him the book. Aswick and the other high priests of Khron huddled around and mimicked Farrell’s actions with the book.
“The book is blank!” Lamenar said. “It’s a fake!”
All three high priests of Khron turned toward Mendox, who stood silently watching what transpired. He didn’t answer but glanced at Farrell. “Chosen?”
“No, Father, it’s not a fake.” Farrell reached for the book and took it back. “Wisdom cannot be taught, but it can be learned. The Mind doesn’t make me wise any more than the Arm will make me a great warrior. I have to do that on my own, and Falcron’s Gift will help.”
“You know that from looking at a blank book?” Aswick sounded doubtful.
Farrell checked with Father Mendox, but the dwarf kept his expression unreadable. Another reason not to play cards with dwarves. “The pages are blank as a reminder that I have to learn this for myself. If there were words, we would look to them, and we wouldn’t find any wisdom there.”
“How can you be so sure?” Lamenar asked.
“Perhaps I’m wrong, though I don’t think so. On the way here, I wondered how the Mind could suddenly make me wise. Wisdom isn’t like strength or knowledge, things that we build over time. Wisdom is something we apply to every situation, from the first to the last decision we make. Sometimes we’re right; other times we do foolish things.”
“But it could tell you what to do when faced with important decisions,” Lamenar said.
“If the Mind did that, it wouldn’t be giving me wisdom; it would merely tell me what to do, and I don’t think Falcron wanted His followers to be dependent on His Gift to make all their crucial choices.”
“Bah!” Wasquar said. “There has to be some value to the Gift itself, or else why make you chase it down?”
“To be sure, Father, the Gift is valuable. I’ve not figured out how to use it, but it won’t simply bestow upon me great wisdom.” Farrell looked over at Father Mendox again, and this time the priest smiled.
“I refrained from the debate to hear your answers, Chosen.” He held out his hand for the Mind, and Farrell gave it to him. “I don’t have any more knowledge on His Gift than you, but I’ve been a priest in His temple for most of my life. We are taught as novices that no one, not even the Holy Father, can teach you wisdom. It is a process we must develop over time with learning, study, prayer, and action. I’m pleased to hear you’ve learned that lesson. It is curious, however . . .”
Farrell waited for Mendox to complete his thought. Instead the dwarf continued to silently stare at him. “What’s curious, Father?”
Mendox blinked and took a breath. “Sorry, Chosen. I noticed something I hadn’t perceived before. Though you are the Chosen of other Gods and you are Their Champion, Falcron has not chosen you. I see the hand of the other five, but not the Holy Father’s. I find that peculiar. Certainly, it raises more questions than answers.”
“We may have no answers, Mendox,” Aswick said. “But I’m certain your God has a reason.”
“To be sure.” Mendox handed Farrell back the Mind. “It doesn’t matter whether I understand. Falcron’s will is clear. His Gift is yours, Chosen, for as long as He deems necessary. Use it well.”
Mendox bowed deeply, and everyone walked back into Wasquar’s bedroom. Farrell put the Mind in his endless pocket and followed the priests.
Wasquar led them back to the main hallways and stopped.
“What next?” He directed the question to Farrell.
“I need to return to Agloth. First, I’ll work out how to move our troops quickly between places.”
“Then we will leave you to your tasks, Chosen.” Wasquar bowed, and the others followed his example. “Captain Jagwin can guide you back to your rooms.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jagwin led Farrell through a back entrance in the palace. The dwarves who rushed by barely acknowledged their presence. Occasionally a soldier recognized Farrell and snapped to attention. Farrell tried to acknowledge every salute, but his thoughts remained on returning to Agloth as quickly as possible.
“Your Majesty, how soon will you want to leave?” Jagwin’s question jolted Farrell out of his thoughts.
“In truth, I would like to go now, but I still have to create the Doors to move the dwarves to Agloth. That may take a day or two.”
“Then with your permission, I would like to give the guards a chance to say goodbye to their families and get their affairs in order. Some of us will not make it back, and I want to give them as much time as I can to spend with their loved ones.”
The reality of war struck Farrell hard in the gut. More beings he’d come to know were going to die. He told himself he wasn’t to blame, but the argument lacked conviction. Jagwin remained at attention, so Farrell pulled himself from his negative thoughts.
“You may give them until sundown tomorrow. The Door to Agloth will remain open until all our forces are in place. You and the others may spend the time with your families and join us at the end.”
“No, Your Majesty. We will accompany you when you leave.”
Farrell shook his head, eager to end this discussion. “I will be among friends in Agloth. Nothing will touch me in Seritia’s holy city.”
Jagwin stiffened. “The king cannot travel without an escort.”
“Believe me when I say Miceral and I will not be in danger in Agloth. In addition to the Ze’arderian army, Nerti and Klissmor as well my adoptive peregrine brothers are there to make sure we are safe. Few a
re willing to cross an angry peregrine, let alone two.”
“You are the brother to two peregrines?”
Farrell nodded. “Adopted brother to Grohl and Takala.”
A smile curled the ends of the dwarf’s lips. “That sounds like a tale worth hearing.”
“If you insist on guarding me, you’ll have plenty of contact with them. I suggest you ask one of them to tell you the story. They’re better storytellers.” Farrell held up a hand. “But don’t believe everything they say about me. Peregrines have a tendency to embellish a tale to make family members look more impressive than they are.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I meet them.” Jagwin’s grin broadened for a moment before he became serious again. “With your permission, I’ll summon some of Thrinton’s staff to help you pack while I offer the guards a chance to spend time with their families. Some of your guards have few family members and might welcome the chance to escort you to Agloth.”
“Include yourself in the offer to spend time with your family.”
“My wife and two children will appreciate the time, so I shall accept your offer.”
Farrell realized he knew little about Jagwin or the other guards. Until now he hadn’t even considered that his captain of the guard might have a wife and children.
Distracted, he suddenly found himself at their suite. Several guards scurried about collecting and packing his personal items when they arrived. Other than Lisle and Miceral, Farrell disliked anyone else handling his belongings, but he refrained from ordering them to stop.
The guard closest to the door saluted as they entered. “King Miceral directed us to pack up your room while he meets with Kings Drendar and Thrinton. But we couldn’t find your trunks, so I sent a runner to request some from King Thrinton.”
Farrell noted his clothes and spare armor stacked against the wall.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it.”
He summoned their saddlebags from the corner of the room and moved to the nearest pile. Opening the flap, Farrell picked up his clothing.
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 92