Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Explain what you mean.”

  “The instructions say to complete the first step, seal the line, and then begin step two. When I finish step two, I seal that part and move on, and so forth. Why not hold the lines open, complete the other steps, and then tie everything together? That way you don’t need a separate spell to merge them all into one.”

  Kel shifted in his chair and inched forward. “Have you done this before?”

  “Yes.” Farrell nodded. “The best example is Belsport’s shield. The spell wouldn’t work unless I kept all the lines active. Every time I tried to combine them at the end, one spell or another would dissolve.”

  “Can you show me what you mean?”

  “Do you mean generally or with this spell?”

  Kel raised an eyebrow. “If you feel confident, try it with the one from the book.”

  Farrell closed his eyes and began the spell. Instead of locking in the first step, he did as he’d suggested. By the third part, sweat dripped off his face as he struggled to keep everything together. Once he finished the last step, he tied the spells together and released the energy.

  “That wasn’t easier, was it?” Kel said,

  “No.” Farrell shook his head. “But it was quicker and more efficient.”

  “True on both counts, but sometimes easier is better.” Kel sat back “That was rather impressive, all the same. I’m not aware of anyone who’s been able to hold all four spells active to completion as you just did. Most lose their focus by the end of the third step.”

  “Small comfort, given how draining it was.” Farrell summoned a cloth to wipe his face. “I concede the way in the book is better.”

  “Not so. You completed the spell in less than half the time it normally takes and used far less energy.” He picked up a book from the side table and held it out. “Here.”

  “What’s this?” Farrell accepted the offering.

  “A book on combat magic. Magical weapons are interesting, but I think combat magic will serve you better.”

  Farrell flipped through the book, but he was still tired from the spell-casting. “Can I ask you something about the Gifts?”

  “You may ask me anything you like.”

  “Until recently, most people, myself included, felt the Gifts were mere legends. It’s like They—well, the Six at least—gave Them to the world and then told everyone to forget about Them. Has anyone ever used Them?”

  “Other than my use of the Eye and Krendrew’s use of the Hand, I’m not aware of anyone else using Them.”

  “That’s strange. Why give Them to the world if we’re not supposed to use Them?”

  “I can only speculate,” Kel said. “The Gifts are so powerful, the Six don’t want just anyone to use Them.”

  “True, but without some prior use, there are no instructions on how They work. And if I don’t know what They can do, how can I use Them to my advantage?”

  “It’s possible an explanation exists.” Kel shrugged. “I’m just not aware of it.”

  “Do you believe the Six left me some guidance somewhere?”

  “It’s logical that They would. The question is where.”

  “The temples?” Farrell said.

  “Isn’t that where everyone would go if they were seeking information on the Gifts?”

  “You’re right,” Farrell said. “But if we believe the Six wouldn’t put it in the obvious place, we’d look elsewhere. If They wanted to be sneaky, They’d hide it in a temple.”

  Kel laughed. “And if we keep going, we’d talk ourselves into and out of every known place. But I searched many of the temples and found nothing.”

  Farrell nodded. If They made it too easy, people would know the Gifts were real or where to look. “What if They left the information in a temple, but not the one people expect?”

  Kel considered his words and then said, “Misdirection, but still somewhat predictable. Like hiding the Mind of Falcron in the quarters of the high priest of Khron in Colograd. That would make it hard to find.”

  “Exactly,” Farrell said. “And this pattern of misdirection is obvious only to someone who has found the other Gifts.”

  “You have an idea where it might be.”

  “I do.” He reached into his pocket for the Eye. “And I think I have a Gift that will confirm it.”

  Kel held up his hand. “Before you do that, humor me. Where do you think they hid this information?”

  “Trellham.”

  “Hmm.” Kel nodded slowly. “The Six did Their best to relegate Trellham to myth and legend. It would be a perfect hiding place for something else the Six wanted people to forget existed.”

  “That’s my thinking.”

  “Where in Trellham?” Kel asked. “It’s a vast city.”

  Farrell rotated the Eye in his hand dramatically. “I think we can narrow the area down a bit.”

  “Care to make a guess where before you ask for divine help?” The playful lilt to Kel’s voice made the moment less tense.

  “You mean a bet?”

  Kel laughed. “I did not, but it’s a wonderful idea. What should we wager?”

  “An answer.”

  “An answer?” Kel frowned. “You must end this annoying habit of giving cryptic one- or two-word answers.”

  “Whomever loses must answer a question from the winner.” Farrell smiled. “Any question, any topic.”

  Kel raised a bushy eyebrow and paused for a moment. “I underestimated you, child. Your mind is every bit as devious as mine. But I’m loathe to agree to such a wager. There are things I withhold for reasons other than my own. Depending on what you ask, I may not be able to answer your question.”

  “Did the Six tell you what to withhold, or do you hide things because that’s your interpretation of Their wishes?”

  Kel waved his hand petulantly. “You missed your true calling. A wizard-king is too easy a job for one with the mind of a barrister. You are correct; I’ve never gotten a list of topics I cannot discuss with you. They told me to use my judgment.”

  “So you accept?” Farrell asked.

  “Watch what you ask for.” Kel pointed a bony finger at him. “You might not win, and even if you do, you may not want to hear the answer to whatever question you have in mind.”

  “I promise if I win to ask wisely.”

  “If that is your wager, I accept.” Kel’s tone was more serious than Farrell expected.

  “The temple of Seritia,” Farrell said.

  Kel crossed his arms across his chest. “Why there? There’s nothing but rubble.”

  Farrell shrugged. “Call it a hunch. Did I steal your answer?”

  Kel chuckled. “No, my guess is Khron’s temple.”

  “Shall we see if either of us is right?” Farrell held up the blue stone.

  Kel motioned for him to continue.

  Farrell held out a link for his grandfather. Once they connected, he focused on the Eye. “Show me where to find information on how to best use the Gifts.”

  In a whirl of motion, an image formed in his mind. It only took a moment to tell they were in Trellham.

  “Back up,” Farrell told the Eye. After a few moments, it was clear where they were.

  “I believe I won, Grandfather,” Farrell said.

  “So it would seem.” Kel sounded unhappy with the turn of events. “What question do you want answered?”

  Farrell shook his head. “I didn’t expect to ask it right now. Instead, I suggest we go retrieve what’s there.”

  “We?” Kel said. “I’m no longer Champion. Whatever’s there is for you.”

  Farrell put the Eye away, thought for a moment, and shook his head. “Today’s not a good time to go look.”

  “Even for you, this is odd behavior,” Kel said. “Why isn’t now a good time?”

  “If I go to Trellham, it will be an event.” He spread his arms wide for emphasis. “A huge event. I couldn’t go without Jagwin and dozens of guards. Dwarves will swarm us, and I’m certain Father A
swick will insist on going over the coronation ceremony yet again. Going to Seritia’s temple—going anywhere—in Trellham requires thought and planning.”

  “You can’t hide from Father Aswick forever,” Kel said.

  “No, not forever, but I can avoid him for another day.” Farrell picked up the book on combat magic and flipped to the first page.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Jagwin and two score of dwarves marched in formation as Miceral and Farrell exited the temple of Falcron. Farrell left his staff on his back and rested his left hand on the pommel of the sword Jagwin insisted he wear. Miceral scanned the plaza as if he could see the fight that had taken place not long ago.

  The days in Dreth and Haven allowed Hendris to shake some of the effects of his enslavement. Master Heather found he’d sustained no lasting damage, which cleared him to return home. Hendris was a different man than the one Farrell had removed from the Spagrom warship.

  “You say creatures filled this plaza?” Hendris asked.

  Farrell nodded. “It was a short battle. Without their chief wizard or priestess, they lacked purpose, and the temple’s magical defenses killed them in bunches.”

  “One of the temple guards said you killed scores of the creatures by yourself,” Hendris said.

  “The king is an accomplished swordsman,” Jagwin said. “But he is even more deadly when he wields his staff as a weapon.”

  “Explain again why dwarves call you king?” Hendris asked.

  “Honorus and Khron decided Miceral and I needed to be kings of Trellham,” Farrell said.

  Jagwin grunted. “His Majesty is too modest. King Drendar acknowledged King Farrell and King Miceral after just one day.”

  “Explain to me again why the captain of my guard keeps answering for me when I’m quite capable of answering my guest’s questions?” Farrell glared at Jagwin with no effect.

  “Someone needs to make sure you create a proper legacy,” Jagwin said. “If you won’t talk about your accomplishments, I need to ensure Trellham’s honor is upheld.”

  Miceral laughed. “You secretly work for Father Aswick, don’t you?”

  “Your Majesty knows he and King Farrell alone command my loyalties. Much as I respect and admire Father Aswick, we do not answer to him.” There was a hint of indignation in Jagwin’s words.

  “Do your loyalties ever include doing as I request?” Farrell asked.

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Jagwin gave Farrell the barest of a mocking bow. “So long as your requests don’t interfere with my ability to protect you.”

  “Thus far, Captain, have any of my requests not interfered with your duties?”

  “Not yet, Your Majesty. But I promise I’ll let you know should you make such an unusual request.” Jagwin punctuated his reply with a firm nod.

  Hendris laughed. “My lord, you are at a decided disadvantage. Humans never win arguments with a sober dwarf.”

  “So I’ve learned.” Farrell called a halt to their procession when they reached the plaza. Jagwin surveyed the area.

  “Why are you stopping here, Your Majesty?”

  “Father Lingum and his guards are joining us,” Farrell said.

  Jagwin tightened his grip on his war hammer. “I don’t like standing still in the open like this.”

  “We’re quite safe here,” Miceral said.

  “Not long ago, this plaza was a battlefield.” Jagwin continued to search the square. “Nowhere other than the inside of a mountain is ‘quite safe,’ Your Majesty.”

  “Would you like me to place wards around us?” Farrell asked.

  “I’d like to keep moving.”

  “This is Father Lingum’s city.” Farrell gave his guard captain a stern look. “We can’t ignore his request that we wait for him.”

  Jagwin nodded to his second-in-command, and the troops repositioned themselves. Seeing how anxious the waiting made his guards, Farrell prepared to shield the group. He stopped when he heard orders barked from the top of the stairs. Wearing the ceremonial robes of his office, Lingum descended the steps, accompanied by a company of temple guards.

  “My apologies for the wait, Chosen,” Lingum said when he arrived. “The temple is a different place in the short time since your last visit.”

  “How so, Father?” Farrell motioned to Jagwin to proceed.

  “We can’t take our safety for granted anymore,” Lingum said. “I’ve sent instruction to every house to be on alert for danger. Jolella and I sent word to the other high prelates warning them of the same. But what has my particular house on edge is that I’ve ordered every able-bodied brother to take weapons training.”

  “I’m guessing some don’t agree,” Miceral said.

  “That’s being generous.” Lingum shook his head. “Even after the temple agreed to hire additional soldiers, more than a few protested. It was not a pleasant meeting.”

  “Had to invoke the Holy Father to convince them?” Farrell asked.

  Lingum nodded. “Yes. Those opposed fear it will divert our attention from our true mission, attaining wisdom.”

  “It is wise to be able to defend your home,” Jagwin said.

  “Please excuse our captain of the guard, Father Lingum.” Farrell paused, hoping Jagwin would realize he needed to apologize. When he did not, Farrell scowled. “Dwarves, particularly Captain Jagwin, are not shy about sharing their opinions. It’s a blessing and a curse at times.”

  Lingum stared for a moment longer before he let it go. “My lecture to the assembled leaders is what delayed me.”

  The people of Bowient stopped as the formation walked across the square. Some called out their thanks, others sought the high priest’s blessing, while some just stared.

  “I think the crowd has turned out to see the dwarves of Trellham walking the streets for the first time in three thousand years,” Lingum said. “Even before the first war, dwarves were rarely seen in Bowient.”

  “I wager they want to see the new kings of Trellham,” Jagwin said to the loud agreement of his dwarves.

  “Don’t forget the impressive royal guards.” Farrell winked at Miceral.

  “That went without saying, Your Majesty,” Jagwin said without missing a step. “It’s why we are your guards.”

  People gave way when presented with the dour dwarves leading the procession. Farrell noted the absence of beggars as they crossed through a marketplace. Meglar’s failed attempt to destroy the temple had relied heavily on those willing to accept his coins. The city seemed quieter and a bit less lively.

  “I hope you know the way home,” Farrell said to Hendris. “The last time I was there, I flew over the city.”

  Hendris smiled. “Fear not, Your Majesty. I’d find my way home blindfolded.”

  Anoria’s house was farther from the temple than Farrell remembered. Flying always warped his perception of distance. As they moved deeper into the city, a crowd gathered on either side. Jagwin and his dwarves lost all sense of mirth and gripped their weapons tighter. Lingum’s guards also seemed on edge.

  “Easy, Captain,” Miceral said. “They’re not dangerous, merely curious.”

  Jagwin shook his head. “Who can say for certain no one in the crowd harbors ill will toward King Farrell or the holy father? Many lost someone they cared for in the battle.”

  Farrell put a hand on Miceral’s shoulder to prevent an argument. “Let him do his job. We weren’t expecting trouble when we came here last time, but it found us.”

  “When did you become the voice of caution?”

  “I didn’t. I’m just tired of arguing with him about this.”

  Miceral slid his hand around Farrell’s and squeezed. Farrell smiled, doing his best to reassure his guards he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. He’d already shielded the party just in case.

  When the surroundings started to look familiar, Farrell knew they were close to Anoria’s house. At their destination, a tall woman in full armor emerged from the door. Her eyes opened wide, and she hesitated before she d
ucked inside. A moment later she reemerged with an armored male.

  Hendris’s smile was all the confirmation Farrell needed. “That has to be your brother.”

  “That’s Amicilar and his life partner.”

  “Mother, you need to come out here,” Amicilar said.

  “Why?” Anoria said loud enough for Farrell to hear. “What’s all the commotion?”

  Amicilar opened the door. “Just come out here, please.”

  Jagwin brought the company to a halt a few feet from the door. Farrell motioned for Hendris to stand beside him as they waited for Anoria to appear. Farrell placed a hand on Hendris’s shoulder.

  “Easy, she’ll be out soon.”

  “I don’t see why you couldn’t tell me what’s . . .” She paused at the door when she saw the dwarves and Farrell. She smiled, but then Hendris stepped from behind Farrell. She faltered, and Amicilar and his partner steadied her. Before she could move, Jagwin stepped forward.

  “Lady Anoria.” His voice filled the street and then some. “His Royal Majesty, Farrell, King of Trellham and high king of all dwarves, has returned as promised with your son. With him is His Holiness, Father Lingum, high priest of Falcron, and His Majesty, Miceral, King of Trellham and high king of the dwarves.”

  “That was a bit much, Jagwin,” Farrell whispered.

  “An occasion such as this deserves a bit much, Your Majesty,” Jagwin said.

  “Oh great gods, Hendris!” Anoria said before she broke free of Amicilar’s hold and ran toward them.

  The dwarves parted to allow her to reach her son. Farrell used the opening to approach Amicilar and his life partner. Jagwin and two other dwarves glued themselves to Farrell’s side as he walked closer to the armed couple.

  “You’re the Farrell Mother has been talking about since the battle in front of the temple?”

  “What gave it away?” He looked down at Jagwin, but the dwarf’s focus never wavered. Farrell extended his arm in greeting. “You must be Amicilar. This is my life partner, Miceral, and you know Father Lingum.”

  Amicilar exchanged greetings with Miceral and Lingum before turning his attention back to Farrell.

  “Mother told us how you two met,” he said. “And how you claimed you could find out what happened to Hendris. She seemed hopeful despite our efforts to dissuade her.”