Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “I have known many of those who held the title Shaman,” Kel said. “I am not certain I’ve met the current one. The last time I was in Bendari, the Shaman was a young man new to his position.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Before I retrieved the Hand from Dragash.” Kel’s answer was terse. Before Farrell could follow up, Kel added, “There is nothing to be gained from this conversation. They will assess you by whatever standard they use. Rather than dwell on what we can’t change, let’s discuss the shields you are going to use to protect yourself on Gharaha.”

  Farrell groaned and felt a sudden hitch in Nerti’s step. This was why they left Haven, but Kel didn’t have to dispel his hopes for a relaxing ride so soon.

  The fourteenth day from Haven began much as the other thirteen: get up, eat, break camp, ride south. Every day Kel taught him at least one new bit of magic. After that, he reviewed things Farrell thought himself well versed in. Despite what Kel kept telling people, Farrell was not in the same class as his legendary ancestor.

  Snow on the ground first appeared two days prior. Spotty at first, it quickly encompassed their entire world. Though their route lay buried beneath the blanket of white, Nerti and Flemin kept to a path only they could see.

  Gray clouds gathered as the day wore on. As far south as they’d traveled, daylight failed before the end of fifth hour. If Kel held to his practice, they’d stop just before the sun set. Each day that moment arrived a bit sooner, but he seemed in no hurry, so it didn’t matter.

  Farrell studied the sky and wondered if they were in for a snowstorm. Lost in these thoughts, he nearly fell from Nerti’s back when she abruptly stopped.

  “What?” He looked up and Kel glared at him.

  “You should be more alert to your surroundings instead of daydreaming. There are Chamdon in the area. Flemin can smell their presence.”

  Farrell reached into his pocket and called up the Eye of Honorus. When he pulled it out, Kel nodded.

  “Good. Don’t use magic unless absolutely necessary.” Kel pulled his white cloak tighter and faded into the snowy background. “We’re not as shielded as I’d like, and I fear magic will leak out from our protections. I’d rather your—Meglar’s wizards not find us right now.”

  Farrell ordered the blue gem to show him the nearest group of Chamdon. The vision in his head whirled across the white landscape. The image slammed to a halt when it came upon a swarm of mindless brutes.

  He scouted their numbers, gauged their speed, and oriented himself to their location. Before he pulled back, he expanded the search area to be sure there were no other raiding parties.

  “A large pack of Chamdon run south about two miles ahead of us. They are chasing a small clan who seem unaware of their danger.” He put the Gift away. “I asked to see any other Chamdon south of Trellham, and this was the only group I found.”

  Kel nodded, but Farrell shook his head.

  “There’s more. I didn’t see a handler guiding this pack.”

  “I see.” Kel’s lips pinched at the corners as his eyes narrowed.

  “That means something to you?” Farrell asked.

  “The obvious that I’m sure you know: this is a trap. Meglar is trying to draw someone out so he can crush them from a distance.”

  “The Shaman?” Farrell asked.

  “Or She Who Guides,” Nerti said.

  “We must go.” Kel didn’t wait for him to answer before Flemin took off. Nerti leapt after her son.

  “I found a detection spell surrounding the creatures,” Kel said. “Try not to use magic unless we must. If you have no other way to save the Bendari, use magic, but be on guard for an attack.”

  “Can’t you counter Meglar’s spell?” Two against two hundred were impossible odds if he couldn’t use magic.

  “I am working on it,” Kel said. “I’ll let you know when I succeed.”

  Farrell noted he’d said “when” and left his grandfather to work. Nerti pulled ahead of her son and assumed the lead. Without thinking, Farrell almost cast the spell to improve his vision. He stopped himself at the last moment and reached out to Nerti instead.

  “Can you see them yet?”

  Nerti pushed her thoughts into his mind as an answer. The pack still moved as he’d seen them. The knee-deep snow slowed their run, but they muscled their way forward. When they reached the trench the Chamdon had cut in the snow, Nerti swung them into the ruts and increased speed. From the corner of his eye, he was glad to see Flemin and Kel had dropped back.

  “Swing left,” Farrell said. “The Bendari are that way.”

  She veered out of the path carved by their enemy, and Farrell saw the warriors had separated from the rest of the clan. Barely thirty fighters turned to meet six times their number.

  “They’ll be slaughtered.” There was no way he could save them without using magic. He held off contacting Kel in the hopes his grandfather could counter the spell before the two sides met. “Can you get us there before the Chamdon attack?”

  “It will be a near thing.”

  “Alert the Bendari we’re coming to help. I’d rather not get attacked by them as well as the Chamdon.”

  He retrieved a dozen smooth metal javelins from his endless pocket. It wouldn’t do much to even the odds, but it was a start.

  “Aim for the ones in front,” Nerti suggested. “You might disrupt their progress.”

  “That’s as good as any plan.”

  Using the training he and Baylec worked on, he focused his thoughts on the coming battle. When the horde slowed to a crawl, Farrell hurled the first spear. Only the unnatural adhesion to Nerti kept him from falling over.

  The missile sliced its way through the air with all the speed his enhanced strength could muster. The steel shaft threaded the ranks and hit the lead Chamdon in the skull. An explosion of red marked the creature’s death. The disruption he’d hope for was minimal at first. His second kill dropped the beast at an odd angle and two others tripped. That caused a tiny ripple effect and resulted in a small cluster getting trampled by those behind.

  Launching another missile, he shook his head. “I don’t have enough spears or time to make a real difference.”

  “Keep trying. The disruption will help the Bendari get a little farther ahead. That will buy Kel more time to finish.”

  His sixth throw was his last. The two sides were too close to risk another. Although he’d dropped close to twenty Chamdon, it did little to even the odds. Worse, no matter how brave or capable they were, the fighters would not be enough to save their families. More than a few Chamdon would get by and pursue the others with single-minded determination.

  “Continue toward the nonwarriors and urge them to hurry.” He readied himself to jump from her back and said a prayer to the Six that Kel finished quickly.

  Nerti bucked as he leapt, adding needed distance to his flight. Her aim was as unerring as everything she did. Flipping over, Farrell landed a dozen yards in front of the Chamdon. He reached into his pocket for a sword, and the image of the Arm of Khron flooded his thoughts. Without thinking, he called for the Gift. When it cleared his pocket, the smooth staff rearranged itself into a long sword. Silver flames danced along the edges.

  The snarl of the nearest Chamdon returned him to the present. He drew his staff from his back and focused to slow down time. Wielding the fiery blade and his battle-hardened staff, Farrell stood as a breakwater against the sea of beasts. He killed every creature within his reach, but dozens ran past on either side.

  When the tide of creatures flowed past him, he turned and attacked from the rear. The Bendari fought with a savage fury as they tried to save their families. Farrell spared a glance beyond the fight and his spirit flailed. As he feared, some of the enemy had slipped around the defenders and headed for the children and old.

  With the bulk of the remaining Chamdon between him and the others, he had no way to reach the fleeing Bendari. His anger powered his arm and he sent the nearest Chamdon f
lying, its chest crushed by the end of his staff.

  “We’re out of time, Grandfather. I can’t save them without—”

  The roar of an unknown animal pierced the battlefield. Dozens more answered the first and flashes of white exploded from the snow. Through a gap in the enemy ranks, Farrell saw the blur of white belonged to a giant white feline. Paws the size of his head dripped red as it cast about for another invader to savage.

  Scores of Bendari appeared as if born out of the snow and reinforced their beleaguered brethren. The giant cats positioned themselves between the Chamdon and the defenseless families.

  “You may use magic now—” Kel said more but Farrell didn’t wait to listen.

  Farrell released the spell he’d kept ready and red dots exploded from this staff. They grew and swarmed the Chamdon from behind. Wrapped tight, the beasts were quickly dispatched.

  Pulling the Arm from the last opponent, Farrell scanned the snow for any remaining Chamdon. Instead of mindless creatures, Bendari warriors and more of the giant cats surrounded him. Other clansmen gave aid to the fallen warriors who first engaged the enemy. Barely a dozen could stand and of those, none looked unscathed.

  Farrell moved to help but stopped when those in front of him pointed their weapons at him. One cat snarled and pawed the snow. Projecting a calm facade, Farrell raised his shields and prepared a spell to clear a path. Carefully he stowed his staff on his back but kept the still-flaming Arm of Khron out and ready.

  “Who are you? Why do you travel the snow of Bendar without our leave?”

  The crowd parted enough for a tall brown-haired man. A few years older than Farrell, the man walked past the ring of warriors. Dressed in leather pants and fur-lined boots like the others, he wore silver armbands and a silver pendant that set him apart. The sword at his side didn’t look used and he shimmered with residual magical energy.

  Farrell seethed and sent a pulse through his shields that brought the Bendari to a halt. “After what I did to help, you treat me like an enemy?”

  “Only friends of the Bendari may walk in our snow.”

  “Surely my grandson is welcome as a friend in Bendar,” Kel said from behind Farrell.

  Farrell turned as a space opened in the Bendari line for Kel and Flemin.

  “Move aside,” Nerti said as she pushed her way forward from the south. She stopped just outside his shield. “Get on.”

  “Is that the Arm?” Kel asked as Farrell leapt onto Nerti’s back.

  “How did you know?” He said a prayer to Khron to turn off the flames. A moment later it returned to the smooth cylinder he had expected.

  “It was rumored to do that.”

  “Ancient One. You honor us with your presence.” The tall spokesman touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead and bowed deeply. “We did not know he was your grandson.”

  “My presence should have been enough for you to know he was a friend of the Bendari,” Nerti said. Farrell felt her anger.

  “Eternal Queen, accept our apologies, but these are troubling times.” He bowed again before Nerti. “Blessed be the Six for sending us your wisdom in our time of need. She Who Guides will be glad for your counsel.”

  After greeting Nerti, the man locked eyes with Farrell. “Would you honor me by standing with me in the snow?”

  Climbing down, Farrell stood before the Bendari leader and lowered his shields.

  “Leave the talking to Nerti and me,” Kel said. “The practices of the Bendari are complex and we don’t need you to cause an incident.”

  Giving no warning, the man put his hands on either side of Farrell’s face. Resisting the urge to strike his host, Farrell let the event unfold.

  The Bendari closed his eyes and began to chant. Clearly the man was a shaman, but was he the Shaman? And if so, what did he want?

  He let go and with no explanation, he moved past Farrell and stood before Kel and Flemin. “You have named your heir.”

  “I have,” Kel said.

  “The time of the test is truly upon us.”

  Kel shook his head. “You did not need to meet my heir to confirm the gods make war again.”

  Returning to Farrell, the man smiled for the first time. “You have more titles than any here, yet you flaunt none of them. I am Esward, grandson of Basje, who is Shaman of the clans of Bendar. How are you called?”

  “Farrell.”

  “Forgive our harsh welcome.” Esward made a terse movement with his left hand and the Bendari relaxed. “Though we appreciate your aid, the Deceiver has sacrificed his beasts before hoping to gain our trust.”

  “There is nothing to forgive.” He forgot his grandfather’s admonishment. “The Deceiver makes all wary of whom we can trust.”

  “Indeed,” Esward agreed. “Let us talk more as we see to the wounded, then we can find suitable shelter for the night.”

  Chapter Six

  The Bendari who had not fought the Chamdon were busy setting up field hospitals by the time Farrell left the battleground. One treated the human casualties and the other tended the giant white cats. Esward named the felines “snow panthers” and left Nerti and Flemin to help with their injuries.

  The Bendari healers had the infirmary in order when Esward and Farrell arrived. An older woman with a small patch of green on her fur coat ran the operation. She directed them to an even older man who supervised a section of the treatment.

  Everyone in camp was in motion. The youngest Bendari ran errands for the oldest, who supervised everything. After carrying the injured to the healers, the adults erected a defensive perimeter, put up tents, and set up camp. The people moved with purpose and no one seemed to be in charge.

  “How are your clans organized internally?” Only after he spoke did he remember Kel’s caution about the Bendari and their ways. “If I am permitted to ask.”

  “Traveling the Endless Snows is both a blessing and a struggle,” Esward said. “Each contributes according to their strengths. Some hunt, some cook, some fight, and some care for the very young or very old.”

  “Who decides one’s role?”

  “Few have but one task. From a young age, Bendari learn many skills.” He pointed to the group creating the interior of camp. The men and women working had not fought the Chamdon. “These few agreed to carry the young and old. Though they are not our best warriors, they are skilled fighters. Those who defended the clan are not the best cooks, but they could take over ably if needed.”

  “To each according to their ability.” This earned him a glance from his host.

  “Yes.”

  When they found the man in charge, he smiled at Esward and bowed. A half second later, he assigned them to the farthest reach of the infirmary. Esward inclined his head and led them to their spot.

  The first patient Farrell examined didn’t need his help. Someone had healed the wound and the man needed nothing a nonhealer couldn’t provide. Farrell stood, took a step back, and looked around.

  “Are you well, Favored One?” Esward asked.

  “I’m fine, but this man doesn’t require my help.” He spotted the man in charge of their section and pointed. “I need to speak to him. He can assign a nonhealer to tend to these men.”

  The lack of response caused Farrell to turn back toward Esward. His guide stared at him. Maybe Kel had been right. He should have stayed with Nerti. Finally he couldn’t take the silence. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I . . . We did not realize you have the talent.” He stood and waved the supervisor over. “I’ll have him assign you to those who need your help.”

  “Talent? Do you mean a healer’s gift?” When Esward nodded, Farrell did as well. “I’ve not had formal training, but I can handle everything except serious wounds.”

  “My apologies if I seemed annoyed at first. I thought you were unhappy with the menial tasks you received.” Esward smiled. “At every turn you aid us where we need it most. Even one more healer could mean the difference between life and death for another of my peop
le. Blessed be the Six for Their wisdom.”

  The supervisor arrived before Farrell could respond. “How may I assist you, Revered One?”

  “The Favored One has the talent. He is better used healing wounds than dressing them.”

  The man’s eyes lit up. “This is good news. If you will follow me, Favored One.”

  “I’ll join you as soon as I finish cleaning this warrior’s arm,” Esward said.

  “As you say, but don’t rush. I’ll be fine.”

  Esward chuckled. “Agreed, but you will need an assistant. Much as I hold you in great esteem, I am far less likely to be in awe of your presence.”

  Farrell stood and stretched. The need to stay still and focus while healing left him stiff, far more than using magic. His body creaked as he twisted around to work out the kinks.

  “Do you require the services of a healer?” Esward smiled to convey he wasn’t serious.

  “Though it would certainly help, I think their talents are better spent on the truly hurt.” He stretched his arm and summoned his staff. A tiny tug on the energy gave him enough to dispel the tightness he’d developed. “And unlike most healers, I can replenish my lost energy.”

  Esward stood with a serious expression. “On behalf of the Bendari, I offer our deepest gratitude. You stood in the path of the Deceiver’s creatures and blunted their attack long enough for more fighters to arrive. For that you have earned the gratitude of the Bendari.”

  He bowed deeply. Behind him, several cats and every standing Bendari did the same. They held the bow long enough for Farrell to look around. The entire camp emulated Esward.

  “Thank him,” Nerti said. “And be humble.”

  He swallowed his irritation at the insinuation. “We all do as we are able. The Six gave me Gifts to use on behalf of Their people. Without them, I’d be no one. It is to Them you should give thanks.”

  “That is not what I meant, but that was well said.”

  Esward straightened and squinted. But for Nerti’s comment, Farrell would have thought he’d insulted the Bendari. Finally he nodded. “You are wise beyond your years, Favored One. You are correct, you are Their servant. Blessed be the Six for sending us aid in our time of need.