Even though it was the last days of summer, midafternoon in Agloth was still hot. Sweat formed on Farrell’s forehead the moment he exited the Door. Though it had been less than a month since his last visit, the changes to Agloth were incredible. The Ze’arderians had cleaned up the decay, revived the energy, and made this city bustle with life.
He and Kel stood beside the temple wall that housed his permanent Door. Several people shouted when they appeared, but they called out friendly greetings. They didn’t wait long before a priestess rounded a corner and walked toward them.
They followed her back the way she had come. A door held open by two temple guards appeared to be their destination. Halfway there, Jolella and several priestesses exited. Farrell smiled when their eyes met, and she returned his grin.
“Holy Mother,” Farrell said as she squeezed his hands in hers. “You didn’t need to personally come for us.”
“Knowing your aversion to the heat, I decided to have pity and meet you at a shortcut.” She released his hands and turned to Kel. “Welcome, Grand Master Kel. It has been some time since last you were here.”
“Indeed, Holy Mother.” He bowed deeply to the high priestess.
“Though we are honored by your visits, what brings you to Agloth?” she asked.
“I seek your counsel and perhaps a favor,” Farrell said.
Jolella nodded and motioned toward one of the priestesses. “Come inside, and you can tell me more.”
The cooler air inside the sprawling complex lifted Farrell’s mood. He scanned the corridors, but nothing looked familiar. The temple was bigger than some towns; he’d barely seen a tenth of it.
Jolella stopped in front of a tall wooden door flanked by two temple guards. “I apologize for using such a formal room with friends, but these are close yet comfortable.”
Ornately carved furniture was arranged over deep plush rugs, surrounded by beautiful tapestries and paintings. Items made of precious metals, many adorned with large jewels, sat on numerous tables and stands.
“This room is one of many filled with gifts bestowed on the temple by wealthy petitioners. Typically we use rooms like this to impress wealthy supplicants with what others have offered in support of their prayers.”
Farrell laughed. “I never knew true love had a price.”
“It does not.” She raised an eyebrow. “But you can’t tell the rich something can’t be bought.”
Farrell walked over to a vase full of brilliant yellow lilies. “These are beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Jolella walked over and sniffed. “My mother knows they are one of my favorites. She and my youngest sister grow them and have the staff place them around the temple.”
“Does anyone recognize the paradox when you bring them here?” Farrell pointed to some of the more lavish gifts. “Do they realize something they purchased in a market won’t suffice?”
“Some, but not many.” Jolella motioned the pair toward chairs in the back. “Those seats are more comfortable. We tell everyone that one’s gift should be a reflection of their commitment, and it’s not the cost but rather its value to them that matters. Despite that, most simply purchase an impressive bauble, thinking it will suffice.”
“Fools.” Kel shook his head. “It is little wonder so few find true love in their life.”
“You are correct, Master Kel.” Jolella took a seat facing them. Servants appeared from a small door to Farrell’s right and placed cool water and sweet bread on a table between them.
Jolella placed a slice of bread on her plate. “How can I help you, Farrell?”
“I would like to speak to Falcron.” He poured three cups of water.
“That’s an interesting request to make of me.” She accepted a cup from him. “Thank you. Perhaps you can tell me how you think I can help you speak to Falcron.”
“To answer that, I need to tell you what has happened to me since we last met.” Farrell drained his water. “As you know, we went to Dumbarten when we left Agloth.”
He started with how he found Kel at his ancestral home, and she didn’t interrupt until he got to the part about his mother and former masters still being alive. After a few questions, she allowed him to continue. Kel filled in some details Farrell omitted. When he got to the part where Arritisa kissed him, she laughed.
“No offense, but your face as you describe it tells me what you thought of the experience.”
“Had I the choice, I’d have found a different way.”
“I’m sure,” Jolella said.
“But that’s why I’m here.” Farrell refilled his cup.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand why it brings you here.”
“I thought perhaps Seritia might have left me the answer somewhere.”
“Left you an answer?” She asked Kel, “Do you understand what he means?”
“At first I did not, but consider that Seritia sent me to get the Hand of Neldin and gave me Her Heart. She also told Farrell he must gather all seven Gifts. Of the Six, She’s the only one to put such emphasis on the Gifts. And when Farrell explained how Seritia left that patch of ground in front of the walls for him to use . . .”
Jolella nodded slowly. “You thought She might have left you a clue on how to answer Arritisa.”
“That was my thinking, at least,” Farrell said.
“It’s not as crazy an idea as it seemed at first, but I highly doubt Seritia would circumvent Her Sister’s will by giving you the answer Arritisa wants you to find on your own.”
Farrell scrunched his face and nodded. “I anticipated that, so I have a second request. Can you introduce me to Falcron’s first prelate?”
“You want to meet Father Lingum?”
Farrell said, “If that’s his name, then yes.”
“Why do I feel this was the real reason we came to Agloth?” Kel asked.
“Ideally, Seritia left me a clue, but if not, I had a backup plan.”
“Why do you need me to help you meet Lingum?” Jolella asked.
“Of the six temple heads, I know four: Aswick, Burcia, Gedrin, and you. Of those four, Father Aswick spent his entire life in Trellham, so I doubt he’d have met Lingum or even know where to find him. Burcia is at the bottom of the ocean and has no contact with the surface world. That leaves you or Gedrin for me to ask. Of the two of you, I get on much better with you.”
Her expression softened and she smiled. “You know how fond I am of you, and I’m happy to take you to Bowient to see Father Lingum, but I don’t know how that is going to help.”
Farrell walked over to the window. The desert was calm, and heat rose from the sand. “I have Falcron’s Gift, but I don’t know how to use it. Who better to ask for help than Falcron Himself?”
“Wait,” Jolella said angrily. “I thought you said you wanted to meet the high priest.”
“I do. So he can help me ask Falcron for help.”
“Farrell.” Kel’s tone made it clear he disapproved. “Had you asked before we came here, I’d have told you that won’t work. One doesn’t walk into Falcron’s temple in Bowient and ask to speak to the God of Wisdom. Even if He grants you an audience, He’s not going to tell you how to use His Gift.”
“Have you tried?”
Kel opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and smirked. “No, child, in all my long life I never tried such a thing.”
“Then you don’t know it won’t work.”
Kel snorted and Jolella laughed.
“It is certainly audacious,” Jolella said. “Perhaps your status as Champion and Giftbearer will afford you a privilege others cannot expect.”
Farrell brightened at the more open attitude the two showed. “And Bowient is home to the largest library on Nendor. If Falcron denies my request, maybe I can find an answer there. Either way, I’d like to go to Bowient next.”
“Whether your need translates into Falcron helping you remains to be determined.” Jolella rang a bell on the table. “I agree, however, it won’t be a waste
d effort going to Bowient.”
Two novices entered and cleared away the cups and plates. When they were gone, Kel flexed his fingers on and off his staff and then tapped the staff once on the floor and nodded.
“I see no harm in trying either. I do not, however, wish to tarry long in Bowient. It’s a chaotic place, and I’m anxious to return to Rastoria. King Clayden should be ready to help us by the time we get back.”
“Help? What else are you planning?” Jolella asked.
“Grandfather wants to visit Yar-del to retrieve some of his things that are still there. He hid a cache of weapons and books in a secret vault inside the city.”
“How do you know they are still there?” Jolella asked. “Meglar has had possession of Yar-del for ten years. Surely he’d have scoured the city for something just like this.”
“It is very well-hidden.” Kel smiled. “But how do you plan to reach this place?” She didn’t sound convinced it was a good idea.
“Without going into too much detail, most of Meglar’s troops are too far away from where we’ll be going to stop us,” Farrell said. “We’ll be coming from the sea—from inside the sea. Meglar won’t expect us to come from there, and he won’t expect an army of Arlefors. By the time they can react, we’ll have reached our goal, gotten Kel’s property, and left.”
“Not having full information, I can’t comment fully on this plan. But remember you are the Champion of the Six. You must not take foolish risks.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
She shifted her attention to Kel. “I’ll trust you know what’s at stake enough as well.”
“I do, Holy Mother,” Kel said. “I do indeed.”
“Very well.” Jolella stood. “It is, however, the middle of the night in Bowient. I’ll need to wait until morning—their morning—to speak to Father Lingum.”
“I assumed as much.” Farrell stood and bowed. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll brave the heat to visit King Randgar.”
“I believe he would enjoy seeing you.” She rang the bell again, and another pair of priestesses appeared. “My acolytes will take you to Randgar.”
Jolella didn’t wait for a response. She turned and exited through a door at the far end of the room.
“If you would follow us, Chosen,” one of the novices said.
Though Jolella said she agreed with them, he wasn’t so sure. Hopefully, he could convince her it was as safe as he and Kel had said.
Chapter Twenty
They followed the priestesses the entire length of the temple and emerged on the far side of Agloth. When the door opened, a blast of hot, dry air struck Farrell. He said a prayer of thanks to Seritia for allowing them to stay inside as long as She had.
When they found Randgar, he and four guards were watching two agitated men yell at each other. Before Farrell could make out the basis of their argument, the pair spotted the newcomers and fell silent.
“It is good you are both wise enough not to air your petty issues before the Chosen of Seritia,” Randgar said as he moved to greet Farrell. “Chosen, it is good to see you again. Hopefully you do not come with dire news.”
“If you insist on calling me Chosen, I shall have to refer to you as Your Majesty.” Farrell held out his arm, which Randgar accepted. “And no, I come with no ill tidings to share. I come as just your friend.”
“Hmph, just my friend. You are not ‘just’ anything, Farrell.” Randgar bowed to Kel. “Grand Master Kel, it is an honor to greet you in Agloth.”
Kel smiled. “It is a joy to see you and your people free at last. The world is a better place for your active participation in our affairs.”
Randgar pointed to the two men he’d been with when Farrell arrived. “Resolve this without coming to blows, or you will both suffer. If you need help, seek out a priestess to provide a compromise.”
The guards moved between the amelt and the noblemen. Farrell couldn’t see them, but his last glimpse told him it wouldn’t end well.
“With your leave?” The novice’s voice drew his attention back to the others.
“Granted.” Randgar gave the pair a brief nod. “Give my regards to the holy mother, please.”
“As you say, Your Majesty.” They turned and returned to the temple.
“Come.” Randgar clapped Farrell on the back. “We can go inside, and you can tell me why you are really here.”
Farrell watched the people move about, oblivious to the heat. Most shouted a greeting to their amelt, a thank you to Farrell, or both. Randgar acknowledged each one with genuine thanks. If any disapproved of him being amelt of Ze’arder, they hid it well.
Randgar stopped in front of a one-story, square, stone building. “Welcome to my home.” Randgar stepped aside to let them enter first.
Farrell waited until they were inside to ask, “Was there no palace for the fabled amelts of Ze’arder?”
“Fabled Ze’arder?” Randgar laughed. “In my time we were nothing more than a beaten people.”
“When an entire nation of people disappears in the blink of an eye, they become the stuff of legend.” Kel’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “Much as old wizards who do likewise.”
The amelt laughed. “Well put. But in Agloth, only the Goddess has a palace.”
On either side of the door, long, curving staircases descended into a large, cavernous atrium that dropped for several stories. It stretched well beyond the confines of the house they’d seen on the street.
Farrell snorted. “Or at least outwardly, only Seritia may have a palace in Agloth.”
“One could argue that the size of the structure isn’t important. Rather it is the perception of the people that matters most.” Randgar led them down the stairway to the left.
As they walked down, people scurried with a purpose across the polished granite floors. Most ignored the amelt and his guests, but a few made eye contact and bowed. Seeing the government workers moving about reminded him why he was glad Horgon handled the administrative work of running Haven.
Silent twelve-foot statutes ringed the ground floor. The muscular stone warriors stood watch, spears at the ready. They continued down a long hall that ended in a pair of tall wooden doors. The guards at the entrance snapped to attention and opened the doors at the amelt’s signal.
When the amelt entered, servants turned a pair of wooden handles in the far-right corner. A series of fans overhead slowly moved the air around them. Farrell immediately felt the difference.
“These are reserved for the amelt and his family,” Randgar said. “In the past my brother did not allow guests here, not even me and my family. He met his guests in the formal rooms in another part of the home. I find these to be more comfortable, and as this is not a state visit, I prefer to relax here.”
He smiled and pointed to a series of small couches under a fan. When they were all seated, servants passed by with trays of seed cakes and juice.
“So.” Randgar slapped both legs with his hands. “Tell me what has brought you to Agloth.”
Farrell stood up and stretched before folding his legs beneath himself. “No disrespect to the comfort of your furniture, but this is more relaxing for me.”
Randgar looked to Kel, who shook his head. “I can’t answer you. It appears far from comfortable to me as well.”
The amelt laughed and held up both hands. “Be comfortable the way you prefer.”
“Thank you.” Farrell summoned his cup and drank deeply.
For the second time that day, he recounted the events between leaving Haven and arriving at Agloth. Randgar listened intently, asking several questions. He was particularly interested in the fight with Meglar’s cousin.
“He sends his family to their deaths with little regard.” Randgar shook his head. “Is this his way of eliminating rivals to his throne?”
“Meglar didn’t knowingly send them to their deaths,” Kel said. “Vedric chose to attack Agloth, against his cousin’s advice. And Carifa would have survived had they encountered
anyone but Farrell and myself. I would think their deaths are a source of worry to Meglar. Particularly his mother’s cousin’s. Meglar attacked us in her defense and was rebuffed.”
Kel’s answer put an end to idle chatter. After a time, Randgar took them on a tour of the northeastern quadrant of the city. Men and women worked to repair old structures that had withered from the centuries of neglect. Farrell spied more than a few dwarves assisting and supervising the stonework. Whenever they noticed Farrell, they came over to pay their respects.
Kel and Randgar spent most of the tour talking together, leaving Farrell to follow in their wake. The amelt led them through the bustling streets and past busy markets. After a time, Farrell heard the telltale steel on steel of weapons practice.
Warriors sweating from their exertions worked in pairs or in threes or fours, attacking imaginary foes represented by large wooden stakes. Each post had a crude image of a Chamdon nailed to it, and soldiers practiced striking certain areas.
“Knowing our foe is unnaturally strong and hard to kill, our weapon masters are practicing new strategies to blunt their advantage.” Randgar pointed to a few spots on the field. “Using long spears, it is possible for one warrior to draw the beast’s attention and keep it at bay long enough for his companions to strike from different directions.”
“Such a strategy only works if you outnumber your opponent,” Kel said. “What happens if they have superior numbers?”
“We must still contend with their superior strength.”
Kel nodded. “True, but you’d be wise to at least plan for such a situation.”
“I will discuss your suggestion with my generals,” Randgar said. “But for the present, the soldiers shall practice this technique.”
They lingered for a bit, watching from a shaded area as the warriors continued their exercises. When the soldiers took a break, Randgar led them off to see more of the city. They stopped in the artisan section next.
“Not much beyond our weapons and the clothes we wore survived our banishment,” Randgar said. “Simple items like cloth, tables, chairs, beds, and linens decayed centuries ago. As such, our craftspeople have been working almost nonstop to replenish the basic needs of my people.”
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