Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Really?” Farrell smirked. “Only one?”

  “Incorrigible.” He rolled his eyes and glanced away to where Peter was talking with Markus and Marisa. “Her brother seems to have found someone as well who is not seeking a favor from the crown.”

  “Wallace is a good man; he even got a nod of approval from Penelope. No small feat, I assure you.” Inadvertently he let his gaze fall on Penelope as he spoke. The princess turned as if she knew they were watching her. Farrell winked at her, and she shook her head and turned away.

  “Shall we resume our meeting?” Wilhelm gestured toward the table. “I think we have waited long enough.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty. It is, after all, your city.” Farrell bowed deeply, doffing an imaginary hat.

  “Child.” He shook his head. “And one who can destroy a city with a thought.”

  “My apologies, Wilhelm. Making light in difficult situations is a bad habit I picked up from Miceral. Before I met him, I was a proper and polite person.”

  “Remind me to thank Miceral for his influence. I’m certain I like the new Farrell better than the old one.” Before Farrell commented, Wilhelm addressed the others. “If you would retake your seats, we should continue.”

  Farrell went over to where Miceral was talking with Kerstand, Christian, and Penelope to refill his cup.

  “An interesting way to deal with the ever-pompous king of Pelipan,” Christian said in a soft voice and grinned.

  “I have a habit of losing my temper when I meet rulers,” Farrell said. “I’m not sure if Miceral told you about my first encounter with his father.”

  “He did, and I must say I find it hard to believe you and Horgon ever had a cross word, the way Kerstand speaks of your relationship with your father-in-law.”

  Miceral grabbed his hand. “The bond between us and my father is something that developed after that incident. Perhaps because of it, even.”

  Farrell prepared for Penelope’s scolding. “My apologies, Princess. I’ve not had a chance to even say hello.”

  “I’m well, thank you.” Her sarcasm warned him even further. “Though I can’t say I like knowing you’re talking about me to Prince Wilhelm.”

  Farrell snickered. “All I said was Wallace had earned your approval.”

  “Why wouldn’t I approve? Despite his inexplicable desire to be friends with you, I like Peter and want him to be happy.”

  Christian raised an eyebrow. “If these are your friends, Farrell, you need not look far for enemies.”

  “I wonder about that myself sometimes.” He smiled at Penelope before returning to his seat beside Wilhelm.

  Farrell had trouble remembering the next two hours. They discussed—numerous times—why no one would help Pelipan and Honal. After the third time Heminaltose had explained they could not reveal themselves, Bendict and Darg joined Heldin and Christian in questioning the lack of help they had received. Rehashing the same information over and over frayed Farrell’s nerves.

  “Why not let Grand Master Kel confront Meglar?” Jursten asked. “Even Meglar would be no match for him.”

  Kel shook his head. “Because I’m a pale shadow of my former self.” He walked over to stand behind Farrell. “After three millennia and more, I have reached the limit of how long I can live. My purpose now is to train my replacement.”

  Silence followed the announcement and most of the assembled group avoided looking at him “Not a ringing endorsement of confidence in my abilities,” Farrell said

  “That is because they were not there at Trellham when you did what I could not.” Kel put a hand on Farrell’s shoulder. “Rest assured, friends, the Six selected the right Champion to take up the mantle. Farrell is beyond even me.”

  “And me,” Heminaltose added.

  “Me, too,” Sanduval said.

  Farrell wasn’t sure the praise was accurate. In the silence that followed, he struggled with how much to tell them about Meglar; specifically that he and Farrell were related.

  “I understand the why, but what if you can’t divert Meglar to Haven?” Christian asked. “What then?”

  “You’d better prepare to evacuate your lands.” Zenora scanned the room. “Honorus was absolutely clear. The final battle between Champions must take place before the gates of Haven for Farrell to have any chance of winning.”

  Farrell watched the interchange and felt a twinge of guilt. Arritisa had demanded full disclosure before there could be an alliance with Her people. She also made it impossible for Wilhelm to reveal what he’d learned. Christian, Heldin, and the other monarchs were under no such prohibitions. Farrell felt he could trust Christian and Darg wouldn’t do anything to anger Nerti. Bendict would likely keep the information a secret, but Heldin concerned him. If ever he needed an avatar to make an appearance—

  “Farrell?” Nerti’s voice startled him.

  “Yes, my queen?” He realized she and his father had remained quiet during the entire meeting. “Have I offended you or Father?”

  He heard her chuckle. “You would not have to ask if you had.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I have a message from Lenore.”

  The conversations he’d been listening to faded into the background. “Lenore?”

  “Yes, you remember Her.” That Nerti could joke with him didn’t help.

  At the edge of his thoughts, he heard someone say his name, but he ignored it. “Is this for my ears only?”

  “The others may hear, but it is for your benefit.”

  “Nerti has a message from Lenore,” Farrell said, cutting off Wilhelm midsentence. “My apologies for interrupting, and for ignoring you all, but Nerti alerted me that Lenore has a message for the group.”

  “Lenore commands that Darius fetch a book from his personal library. This book was written by the wizard Beatrice. The Holy Mother said it is on the third shelf from the library door, four rows up from the floor, and it is the fifth book from the left on that shelf.”

  Everyone in the group looked at the visibly surprised Darius. “I . . . She wants me to get what?”

  “Once you get the book, you are to give it to Farrell, who is to read page 137 to himself.” Nerti moved closer to Farrell. “After he reads that page, I shall provide further direction.”

  “Nerti?” Heminaltose asked. “What’s on the page?”

  “Wizard, every word Lenore intended for you, I have repeated. When Her will is done, I will say more.”

  “What page is he to read?” Darius asked. “I know that tome by heart. I can end this quicker by telling him what’s it says.”

  “Page 137.”

  Darius opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His brow furrowed and he shook his head. “Astounding. I can recite verbatim the page before and after. I can’t tell you one word from the page you are directed to. How is that possible?”

  Glendora sat up a bit taller in her chair and rested one hand over the other. “If the Blessed Mother wanted Her words told to the group as a whole, she would not have said for him to read it silently to himself.”

  “Wizard Darius, would you please fetch the book?” Nerti’s words were polite but didn’t mask her impatience.

  Darius closed his eyes, held out his hand, and whispered a single word. The large, thick book appeared in his hand, and he opened his eyes. The leather was black with age but otherwise unblemished. Darius turned the book sideways and considered opening it. Instead, he walked around Wilhelm and held it out to Farrell.

  Farrell reached out with his senses and was certain the other wizards in the room did likewise. There was magic in the book, but he couldn’t detect a cloaking spell. Then again, this was Beatrice, and even Kel respected her skills. He examined the book from all angles before he set it down.

  Carefully he opened the book and flipped to the page in question. A full page of writing in long, flowing script greeted him. He glanced at Miceral, who shook his head.

  “I see nothing on the page,” Wilhelm added.

/>   “I see an entire page of writing.” He adjusted his seat and began reading to himself.

  Greetings, Chosen of Lenore. I write this in the presence of the white avatar of Lenore who instructs me to send you Her blessings. She apologizes for having to aid you in this manner, but it is necessary to avoid Neldin’s detecting Her assistance.

  If you read this, events have come to pass where Neldin seeks once more to conquer His siblings’ followers. Honorus chose Kel and his heirs to be His servants to stand firm in opposing Neldin. It is said Neldin chose the House of Vedri to be His new servants. They are a minor house in this age, and we have no confirmation of this rumor.

  Farrell paused for a moment. More than two thousand years ago, people knew, or strongly suspected, that the House of Vedri served Neldin. If this information had been given to Kel’s heirs, his grandfather would never have allowed Zenora to marry Meglar. Farrell wouldn’t be alive, either, but his father’s madness could have been blunted, if not prevented. He squashed the emotions bubbling up from that line of thought and continued reading.

  To ensure a secret is not revealed, willingly or unwillingly, takes but three simple steps: the consent of those whom you seek to bind to silence; the spell I will teach you; and the presence of a priestess of Lenore. Once you have the consent of your subject, recite the spell while the cleric invokes Lenore’s will. None but the Goddess Herself will be able to pry your secret loose, even unto death.

  But be warned, full disclosure must be made before obtaining consent or the binding will not hold. Only a God or Goddess may force the unwilling to maintain silence.

  Below the warning was a variation of a simple spell Farrell already knew. It prevented anyone under its power from revealing whatever the caster did not want told. The binding was only as effective as the person who cast it, and even then, a decent wizard could pry loose the hidden words with enough effort.

  Below the spell was a large and elaborate B.

  Farrell read the words again and looked up.

  “Is anything wrong?” Miceral asked.

  Farrell waved him off as he considered his words. “Lenore sent me a message through Grand Master Beatrice—two thousand years ago. It has to do with revealing secrets that need to be told and making sure no one can repeat what they hear.”

  More than one person around the table looked confused. “Lenore is telling me I need to reveal things I and a few others have guarded closely against revealing.”

  “So you’ve been keeping secrets from us?” Bendict asked.

  “We . . . I have, yes.” He waited to see if any challenged him further, but no one spoke. Behind him he heard movement, and his father’s familiar scent announced Rothdin’s presence. “Though I take no pride in keeping things from even my closest friends, I also feel no remorse. This is war, and we all have to make difficult choices. Losing this fight is too horrible to consider. I’ve protected all who came to Haven seeking refuge. More than that was not offered.

  “But with today’s events and Lenore’s message, it is clear the time for secrets is over. Our goal tonight is to draw together all who stand in Meglar’s path and unite them in one effort. To do that, you deserve the truth.” He allowed his words to sink in. “But as with all things, everything has a price.”

  “You want us to give you something in return for this knowledge?” Bendict asked. Farrell heard the hint of outrage and saw the attitude mirrored by at least two others.

  “Nothing you cannot afford to give.” Farrell held up his hand. “Before you react in anger, hear what I have to say. It may answer some of your concerns.”

  Kel shifted beside him. Farrell made eye contact with him and shook his head. This was something Farrell needed to do on his own. To lead the fight, he couldn’t rely on others. Kel nodded and returned to his seat. Nerti and Rothdin also drew back.

  “In war, as with commerce, knowledge has value.” His eyes moved around the table. “Meglar would pay a king’s ransom to know where we are, when we plan to strike, what our troop strength is, and many other details. But that information is nothing compared to what I am about to reveal. Dramatic? Yes, but still true. Meglar cannot learn this information, no matter what it costs.”

  “What fool would reveal to Meglar our plans for defeating him?” Darg let his gaze drift toward Heldin. Pelipan’s king bristled as others followed the clan chief’s eyes.

  “No one,” Kel said, drawing the attention to himself. “Every person in this room has too much to lose. And since it has been insinuated that perhaps Heldin is untrustworthy, I believe everyone in this room can be trusted to keep silent. Everyone.”

  Heldin relaxed, and Farrell resumed. “It isn’t what someone would willingly reveal that is at issue. Rather it is what could be ripped from your mind by our enemy.”

  “Should Meglar capture any of us, with the possible exception of Nerti, Klissmor, Rothdin, and Hesnera, he could almost surely get whatever information he wanted from our minds,” Kel added.

  “Lenore’s message provides a binding that none save She could undo.” Farrell waited as recognition passed through his guests. “Any who want to hear what I have to say must be willing to swear an unbreakable oath of silence.”

  Farrell let people mutter among each other. He knew those he could count on and who might have reservations. He walked over to Glendora and handed her the open book. “To accomplish Lenore’s directions, I require your aid, Holy Mother.”

  Glendora accepted the tome and read Beatrice’s message. When she finished, she turned the book around and handed it back to Farrell.

  “I understand,” she said. “I can do what is needed.”

  He laid the book on the table and addressed the group. “As I’ve said, if you want to hear any more, you need to agree to this binding. But before you agree, understand that once the spell is cast, nothing can break it. The prohibition is so absolute that no one can force it from you or rip it from your mind. You should all consider if you want to commit to that before we begin.”

  Farrell went to get a new drink. A platter of sweets had been set out earlier, and he selected a chocolate cookie, a small fruit tart, and some coffee as he tried to ignore the others talking among themselves.

  “They will all agree.” Kel placed a hand on Farrell’s neck and rubbed gently. “They have no choice.”

  He remembered Beatrice’s warning. “I hope it’s clear what they’re agreeing to.”

  “It is,” Wilhelm said, walking up behind them. “And a small price to ask in return for what you shall reveal.”

  “I never doubted you’d accept.” Farrell smirked. “You already know everything.”

  “And I’m already bound by a divine oath as well.”

  “Your guests are ready,” Rothdin said.

  “Thank you, Father.” The trio walked back to the center of the table.

  “Are there any questions before we begin?” Farrell asked.

  Darg stood up. “What does this binding entail?”

  “It’s a very simple process.” Farrell expected this question and had a ready answer. “Everyone agrees to be bound, I recite the spell, and Glendora invokes Lenore’s will. When it is over, you will not be able to speak of what you learn to anyone other than those in this room. Not spouses, fellow clan chiefs, ministers, vassals, or anyone else.”

  “And should I decline to agree?” Darg asked.

  “You’ll be sent home, and no one will think less of you for your decision.” Farrell tried to sound as neutral as possible. “But as you can understand, you’ll be excluded from all future planning sessions.”

  “Any more questions?” Kel asked, though it was clear he wasn’t interested in any more inquiries. “If anyone wants to leave, do so now.”

  Despite Kel’s impatience, Farrell waited a few moments to allow anyone else to pose questions. Hearing none, he motioned to Glendora. The priestess pushed her chair back and stood.

  “You must affirm your desire to be bound or else you will be aske
d to leave.” She turned to Farrell. “Allow me to pose the question to each person individually. Then we can cast the binding.”

  Farrell nodded. “Very well. You can start with me.”

  “No,” Kel said. “You are exempt, as are Nerti and Rothdin.”

  “Why are they exempt?” Christian asked.

  “Some must be free to reveal the things we are going to discuss or else we won’t be able to gather new allies,” Kel said. “If Farrell is captured, that in itself will require we change our plans, so it won’t matter. As for Rothdin and Nerti, none but a god possesses the ability to take from their minds what they do not freely offer.”

  Before anyone could answer, Glendora said, “Kel, do you agree to be bound?”

  “I do.” His eyes twinkled, and he said, “Do you agree to be bound, Glendora?”

  She chuckled softly. “I do.”

  Glendora went through the room’s occupants, beginning with Wilhelm. To each she posed the same question. None refused the price to remain. After she queried the last person, she nodded to Farrell.

  Farrell recited the spell as Glendora invoked Lenore’s will. He didn’t feel anything happen, but Glendora scanned the room and smiled.

  “The hand of Lenore has touched you all,” she said before sitting. “Our efforts were successful.”

  When the priestess sat, Farrell stood alone. Having paid their “fee,” the group regarded him with rapt attention. Knowing where to begin was also difficult. Lacking anything better, he walked over to Zenora and stood beside her.

  “Perhaps the easiest way to begin is with the hardest bit.” He held out his hand, and his mother allowed him to help her to her feet. She must have suspected what he was about to do because she gave him a small nod of encouragement. “Everyone, allow me to introduce you to my mother, Zenora. My true name is Halloran. I am the son of Zenora and Meglar.”

  Farrell had never been to Neblor, but he was certain it looked a lot like what unfolded when he mentioned his father’s name.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Farrell let the chaos play out. He hadn’t expected them to compliment him for overcoming such a bad start in life. Those who hadn’t known were shouting and gesturing so much, he couldn’t focus on any one verbal attack.