Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “They won’t hurt anyone.” Farrell winked at Cendreth. “Much.”

  “Snatching the arrow out of the air was impressive, even for you.”

  “A talent I didn’t know I possessed, but I am pleased I do.” He reinforced their shields and turned around.

  Farrell repressed the urge to set Arnolt on fire and allowed Cendreth to deal with the still-dazed man. Cendreth tried to hoist him up by the front of his shirt, but the fabric tore when he yanked. Not to be denied, he placed his hands on Arnolt’s shoulders and pulled him to his feet.

  Once he had Arnolt standing, Cendreth wrapped his left hand around the man’s neck. Barely containing his rage, he asked, “Why were you really chasing that child?”

  “She stole food from me.” Arnolt’s eyes darted around looking for his friends.

  “Who is she to you?”

  “Bee’s an orphan. Her mother was a whore who died giving birth to another child. I claimed her.”

  “Claimed her?” Farrell spat out the words. “Was she something offered for sale?”

  He licked his lips. “Noble sirs, ours is a hard life, but we treasure our children. I cared for her and kept her safe.”

  Cendreth swallowed and exhaled. “Dressing her in rags, starving her, and sending her into the streets to beg is your definition of care?”

  “We’re poor, but make do with what we have.” He tugged at his tattered shirt. “With me she’s safe and has a home.”

  Arnolt shifted his eyes from Farrell to Cendreth. When neither spoke, he added, “It’s better than she could’ve gotten.”

  “Better than what?” Cendreth demanded.

  “Others wanted to put her to work in a brothel.”

  Cendreth’s hand clenched, causing Arnolt to gag. His eyes bulged, and he struggled to pry the fingers off his neck.

  “She’s a child!”

  “Easy, my prince.” Farrell put his hand on Cendreth’s arm.

  Arnolt breathed deeply. “I saved her from that life. I swear.” He kept trying to escape from the hold. “I truly did, sir! Please don’t kill me.”

  “Let him go, Cendreth.” Farrell dropped the pretense he was the prince’s guard. “Wretched as his life is, we have no right to take it.”

  Slowly, Cendreth released his hold. Arnolt rubbed his neck vigorously with his filthy hands.

  “Thank you, my lord. Thank you.” He reached toward Farrell, but he snatched his hand away.

  “Go away, Arnolt. I spared you because I’m not lord of this city.” He used the tip of his staff to raise the man’s head so their eyes met. “But you and I both know if that little girl was older and did not tug at the hearts of others, you’d have sold her to a brothel or pimped her yourself.”

  Arnolt’s attempt to speak was truncated by Farrell increasing the pressure on his chin. “Be silent. There is naught you can say to change my belief. Mother Jolella is going to take Bee away from this place and offer her a new chance at life, just as I’m giving you back your life.”

  “But my lord,” he pleaded, “I’m her only family. You can’t take her from me.”

  “Find a way to fatten your belly without exploiting an innocent little child,” Cendreth said. “Perhaps you’d do well to be starving all the time.”

  Arnolt glared at Cendreth with obvious contempt. Farrell questioned his decision to let the man go when he heard the sound of boots quick-marching their way.

  Lingum led his guards, followed by a company of well-armed female soldiers in Seritia’s colors. Farrell waited for the group to get closer before he spoke.

  “Father, you didn’t need to come here personally. I told you we could handle this.”

  “Actually I came because whatever you did has the belcin’s soldiers up in arms, literally.” Lingum looked around the area.

  “Belcin?” Farrell looked at Cendreth, who shook his head.

  “That’s the title given to the secular ruler of Bowient,” Lingum said. “Stupid name for a stupid man, but his guards are angry with you.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean. No one’s been harmed.” Farrell glanced back at the body with an arrow in his chest. “Other than him, and he fired on Cendreth first. I merely sent the arrow back to its owner. I can’t be held accountable just because he couldn’t catch it.”

  “This isn’t funny.” Lingum’s serious tone wiped away Farrell’s smirk. “There’s a complaint of a wizard attacking people with magic.”

  “I was defending Prince Cendreth. The belcin ought to thank me. Had they killed Cendreth, King Randgar would have razed the city.”

  “Agreed. But since no one told the belcin the crown prince of Ze’arder was paying a visit to the city, he has no way of knowing that.” He stared at Arnolt. “This one’s friends are spreading the word the temple is behind the attack.”

  “Holy Father, we didn’t—” Cendreth started, but Lingum cut him off.

  “Don’t apologize. You did the right thing, but because Jolella and I were involved, it’s easy to blame the temples.”

  “Do we need to fight our way back to the temple?” Farrell asked.

  Lingum shook his head. “I doubt even the belcin would attack the guards from two different temples.”

  He didn’t know the belcin, but Farrell wasn’t inclined to trust that he had the sense not to pick a fight with Falcron and Seritia’s temples. The sound of boots moving fast stopped him from voicing his concern. Seconds later, soldiers in Falcron’s colors marched into the open space.

  “I suggest you return to Seritia’s temple and go back to Agloth,” Lingum said.

  “Let me finish this first.” He pointed the tip of one end of his staff at Arnolt. “Leave now and be glad I don’t kill you.”

  Arnolt dusted off his backside. “Where’s Bee?”

  “Are you that stupid—?” Farrell stopped speaking to put a hand up to stop Cendreth from charging the man. “She’s the price of your freedom; she gets hers, too.”

  “But . . .” Arnolt’s eyes grew wider, and he focused on something behind Cendreth.

  Farrell didn’t need to see behind him to know his energy jackals were running toward him. “Go now or they’ll do more than scare you.”

  At first he thought Arnolt would call his bluff, but one of the constructs growled and Arnolt fled. He ran faster than Farrell expected.

  “Is this what you set on the others?” Lingum studied the creatures as they sat at Farrell’s feet.

  “Yes. It was the first snarling animal that came to mind.” He passed his staff over the magical creations and the trio disappeared.

  “They worked.” Lingum motioned for Seritia’s guards to come closer. “Follow the sisters and go back to Agloth. I’ll deal with the belcin.”

  “What are you going to tell him?” Farrell asked.

  “That you’re under Falcron’s protection and that I sent you away.”

  “Won’t that make you the belcin’s enemy?” Cendreth asked.

  “Unlikely.” Lingum repositioned his guards. Satisfied with the new setup, he turned back to Farrell. “Centuries ago, a fight broke out between temple and city officials. The high priest summoned every temple guard from around Nendor to descend on Bowient. He also called in favors among the rulers known to favor Falcron. It was a very short disagreement. Outnumbered and without allies, the belcin surrendered after a small skirmish.

  “Were this current donkey’s backside to object, I’d remind him how many troops I can summon before he could wipe his ass in the morning. Even if he won’t admit it, he knows he rules by my leave.”

  Unconvinced the belcin would go down quietly, Farrell retrieved the Eye from his pocket and stared into the blue facets. “Show me their troops.”

  He stared into the blue crystal. After thirty seconds, he put it away. “You need to get back to the temple, Holy Father.”

  “What?”

  Farrell moved his staff in a circle in front of himself and Cendreth. The air around them swirled. The blurring winds only lasted
a few seconds, and when they passed, he and Cendreth wore the blue uniform of Falcron’s guards.

  “This position and the temple are being surrounded.” He put the Eye back in his pocket. “It’s not the belcin I’m worried about. Those few dozen citizens who told the guards what had happened have swelled to many hundreds. I don’t trust them to care that you command ten thousand soldiers if needed.”

  “Farrell.” Lingum held up a hand and clenched his fingers tightly. “Let me handle this my way. I don’t want a pitched battle on the streets of Bowient.”

  “I’ve no intention of blasting the lot into cinders, but we need to be mindful of the danger.” Farrell held out his hand and focused on what he wanted. Extending his will, he summoned his sword and belt.

  “Can you use that?” Lingum asked.

  “Better than you’d expect. My life partner is a weapons master who insisted I train with him.” He drew his sword and held it down.

  “Can you make it back to Seritia’s temple?” Lingum examined their surroundings.

  “It will be easier for us to go back with you.” He gestured toward the way they came. “I can open a Door to Agloth and return the sisters to their home from there.”

  A commotion behind Farrell caused them to turn.

  “They were right there with the priests.” Arnolt stood in front of a large crowd of angry men, pointing at Farrell with a new club.

  “It’s up to you, Father.” Farrell raised a shield around everyone. “But if we stay, it’s going to come to blows.”

  “Farrell.” Kel’s sudden appearance in his mind caused him to flinch. “What trouble have you caused now?”

  “It appears they really want the child back.”

  “That will be difficult,” Kel said. “The sisters have already decided she’s been abused. They’ll never return her to that man.”

  “Is Jolella aware Arnolt—the man who chased Bee—and his friends are arming themselves?” Farrell didn’t like how the situation had descended into chaos. “They also lodged a complaint with the city guards, and they’re arming themselves as well.”

  “Can you stall them a moment?” Farrell asked Lingum. “I’m speaking to Kel.”

  Lingum didn’t seem fazed by the statement and moved around Farrell.

  “Jolella just finished speaking with the head of this temple.” Kel’s mental sigh told Farrell more than his words. “She just gave the word to call for troops from Agloth.”

  “This is out of control!” Farrell said out loud.

  “What is?” Cendreth asked.

  “Jolella is asking Amelt Randgar for troops to defend the temple in Bowient. She’s preparing for a siege.”

  “In the name of Holy Falcron, I order you disperse and go home!” Lingum held out his arm and tapped his staff on the street.

  A rock flew from the middle of the crowd. Without thinking, Farrell flicked his right hand and sent it back at the one who threw it. A hail of objects answered his action.

  Farrell cast his arms wide and suspended the projectiles in midair. He waited to see if anything else was coming their way, but the crowd just watched their attack hovering a few feet from their targets. Farrell pushed his arms forward and sent everything back at the crowd. Sticks, stones, bits of metal, and everything sent his way pelted the stunned mob.

  Farrell was about to suggest they leave when he felt something that shouldn’t be there. He scanned the faces, searching for the source of his discomfort.

  “Father Lingum.” He kept his gaze on the crowd. “Take your troops back to your temple and prepare for attack.”

  “What do you see?” Lingum asked.

  “Someone who does not belong in Bowient.” He finally turned away. “I’ll stay with the rear guard and protect your flank.”

  “What’s going on?” Lingum asked.

  “I’ll explain when we get to the temple, but I think Meglar has operatives riling up the people.” He held up a finger. “A moment, please. Let me tell Kel what’s happening.”

  “Go.”

  “Grandfather, Meglar’s wizards are behind this.” He cast his senses to search for the man but found nothing.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, I felt one of his wizards in the crowd.”

  “Where are you? I will join you,” Kel said.

  “No. Wait!”

  “Why?”

  Farrell heard the irritation in his grandfather’s voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to order you, but someone needs to protect Seritia’s temple. Rescuing Bee is a perfect excuse to attack them.”

  “That would be prudent.” Kel still sounded irked. “Remain with Lingum. I don’t like that Meglar is stirring up trouble in Bowient so soon after trying to conquer Agloth.”

  “Neither do I.” Farrell hadn’t made that connection. “I’ll make sure they get back safely, but then you and I ought to neutralize Meglar’s wizard.”

  “Agreed. Just be certain you don’t go without me.” Kel severed their link before Farrell could answer.

  Father Lingum stepped in front of Farrell. “I’m assigning these men to your command.”

  It took Farrell a moment to process what he’d heard. When it registered, he nodded. “We’ll remain close behind you unless something arises that demands our attention.”

  Lingum and his guards left, and he signaled to Cendreth to take the lead. Everything felt too convenient. Had they not rescued Bee, they wouldn’t have exposed themselves to Meglar’s wizard. Yet had they not revealed their presence, Farrell wouldn’t have noticed that Meglar had operatives in Bowient.

  And why had Meglar sent someone to Bowient anyway? Was he trying to destroy the main temples of Neldin’s Siblings? And if so, why? Temples were merely symbols; they had no inherent power. He needed to ask Jolella or Lingum or Father Aswick about that later. Now, he needed to concentrate on covering Lingum’s retreat.

  Extending his senses as far as he could, he heard Cendreth order a quickstep march after the high priest. The chaotic activity he observed on the way to Falcron’s temple had disappeared. Shops closed, merchants rushed to gather their wares, and everyone Farrell came upon wore a wary expression as they hurried along.

  At every corner, he and his small band of troops turned around to check on the mob before they raced to the end of the next block. In this halted manner, they made their way almost to edge of the plaza surrounding the temple without incident.

  Suddenly he felt dark magic being worked close by. “By the Six! This way!”

  Cendreth didn’t hesitate before he ordered everyone to follow Farrell down the last block. Rounding another corner, Farrell heard the sound of sword fighting. A voice barked orders and then came the noise of dark magic that nearly froze him in place.

  “Grandfather, did you feel that?”

  “Yes, Meglar’s wizards are taking an active hand.” Kel’s answer came in a terse voice. “How close are you to the source?”

  “Very.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Near the edge of the plaza in front of Falcron’s temple. Lingum is ahead with the main body of his guards.” He saw his guards surge forward. “Wait!”

  His command froze them just before the first Chamdon came into view. It had its back to them and swung its sword at a soldier who deflected the blow and danced aside. Amid the screams of shock, Farrell pushed his way forward. He felt more than saw Cendreth at his heels.

  “How in the—?” He almost swore by Neblor but remembered his grandfather’s dislike of that place. “In the name of the Six, how did one of his followers create Chamdon? I thought he kept that secret to himself.”

  “A question for another time, child. Focus on your situation.”

  Farrell accepted the advice and addressed the men with him. “What you see defies explanation. Stick together, stay in groups of four. The creatures are unnaturally strong and focused on a single task: killing you. They’re hard to kill, so keep together at all costs.”

  Anxious faces nodded as
the guards grouped themselves into teams. Satisfied he’d done as much as he could for them, he led them forward. Two of Seritia’s guards broke away and ran in a panic toward him. A pair of Chamdon chased the young women, snarling as they ran.

  “Sisters!” He yelled to be heard. “This way!”

  His last word got their attention. True to their nature, the Chamdon did not acknowledge the newcomers. Instead they remained focused on their targets.

  Farrell drew his staff and dashed forward. As the young woman closest to Farrell ran past him, time slowed just as it had when the arrow headed for Cendreth. He planted his feet, twisted left, and then swung his staff with as much force as he could generate.

  The metal cuff struck the beast just below its raised right arm and caved in the side of the creature’s makeshift armor. The dazed Chamdon flew thirty feet across the plaza. When it landed, it didn’t stir.

  Ahead of him, Lingum struggled to organize his troops against a dozen creatures confronting them. His guards remained steady, but Farrell imagined them breaking any moment.

  The second Chamdon plowed into his guards, and Cendreth drew its attention. It swatted away one man with a backstroke, and he crashed onto the hard ground. Cendreth staggered under a blow but managed to turn the strike enough that it pushed the beast off balance. Farrell rushed over just as the brute raised his sword at Cendreth again.

  Farrell brought his sword down on the upraised arm and sliced just below the elbow. The hand still clutching the blade fell lifeless to the ground. He used his staff to sweep the legs out from under his wounded foe. The upswing brought his staff in perfect position to smash down on the dazed creature’s head.

  Three soldiers darted forward and stabbed at the first Chamdon Farrell had sent flying. Across the square, Lingum and his troops struggled to retreat in an organized manner. Four guards, three in the blue of Falcron, the other in Seritia’s colors, lay prone along the path the retreating soldiers had taken.

  “Form up,” he barked at the remaining guards.

  Before the guards could organize, he felt a surge of magic he recognized. Seconds later, a swarm of darts sent by Kel flew over his head. The barbs struck only the Chamdon with eerie accuracy. Once they struck, they exploded in a loud pop and a flash of blue energy. The beasts staggered and then fell to ground.