Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Someone is trying to scan us, or at least me. I’m letting them know I find it rude.”

  “And you call me prickly.”

  There were no more probes, and Farrell used the rest of the walk to study his hosts. They were both wizards, but Ervend was only a low-level master. Pertrice was on the cusp, either a powerful master wizard or a low-level grand master. Given the attempts to gauge his powers, Farrell assumed she couldn’t see his true power. He decided to keep them wondering why he was Kel’s heir.

  When they were almost to the queen and king, a new group emerged from behind. Most appeared to be counselors and advisors, but two in the back wore crowns. They were partially hidden by the crowd, so only the tops of their heads were visible. He was about to turn away from the group when he caught a glimpse at those at the rear.

  “Samruel?” he whispered to himself and strained to get a better look. His movement attracted everyone’s attention, but he ignored them. His efforts paid off. “Samruel!”

  Everyone stared at him calling out like a commoner, but he didn’t care. Heminaltose had told him Samruel had died. The queen and king glanced backward and all eyes followed them.

  “Farrell!” Samruel pushed his way forward. “I can’t believe it!”

  Farrell started to move forward, but Kel’s staff blocked his way. “Manners. We greet the queen and king first.”

  He looked up, and the king held back Samruel. “Understood.”

  Despite the outburst, Tharles attempted to maintain the decorum afforded visiting heads of state. He introduced Nerti and Flemin first. Everyone paid close attention as the queen of unicorns and her son greeted their hosts.

  Farrell wanted to go last, but as high king of the dwarves, propriety dictated he go second. He struggled to get through the required niceties and kept glancing at his old friend. Finally, he stepped back, not sure if he’d been polite or had started an incident that would have the dwarves arming for war.

  He used Kel’s introduction to study his old friend. Memories of his childhood flooded his thoughts. Samruel had left when Farrell was thirteen. Back then, his friend was more than a head taller. Now Farrell had a few finger’s widths on him.

  While at Heminaltose’s school, Samruel had been a good wizard who squeezed the most out of his talent. What he lacked in raw power, he made up for with training and skill. Farrell had never bested his friend but suspected that had also changed.

  Finally, Tharles finished presenting Rojas. Farrell and Samruel returned to the center of attention.

  “It is clear you know our youngest son,” Pertrice said with a barely controlled smirk. “We are all wondering how this can be. I’m sure he never mentioned meeting the human high king of the dwarves.”

  “This is Farrell, the wizard I trained with while at Heminaltose’s school,” Samruel said. “My master said he was the child of poor merchants in Yar-del City who were happy to send him off for training. I didn’t realize Heminaltose considered the house of Kel to be a poor merchant family.”

  “He doesn’t look like the prodigy you’ve described,” Ervend said. “I dare say his aura is not as bright as yours.”

  “Looks can trick the eye,” Kel said. “If you would like more of an explanation, I suggest we go continue our talk in a more private place.”

  The queen nodded and led them into the palace. Samruel made a poor effort at pretending to let his parents go first and smiled as he waited for Farrell.

  “It appears neither of us was forthcoming with each other,” he said as he held out his arm.

  Farrell gripped his friend’s forearm. “I told you the truth as I knew it. No one told me until after you’d left that I was part of the house of Kel.”

  “Gertaf’s message said you are Kel’s grandson and heir?”

  “Not his heir, his successor as Champion of the Six.”

  Samruel chuckled. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “No. Hereditary determines his heir. The Six decided his successor.”

  “Ah,” Samruel said with a nod. “That will make my parents happy. They weren’t sure what to make of Kel turning up after all these centuries with his heir in tow.”

  “Why would it matter? He was never king of Tilerstig.”

  “No, but neither were Lionia and Mekeral before he arrived.”

  “True, but the throne was empty when he and Beatrice installed them as the new queen and king.”

  “Kel taught you well.”

  Farrell wasn’t sure how true that was, but he nodded. “We’ve been traveling together for a while.”

  They walked in silence, but when the others turned a corner, Farrell stopped walking. The guards trailing them nearly bowled into him as Samruel turned around.

  “I thought you died.” Despite the return of so many people he’d thought dead, it wasn’t any easier this time. “Everyone did.”

  “I’m sorry, Farrell.” The pained expression on his face reminded Farrell why he’d idolized Samruel as a child. “The war provided an easy means of returning to Tilerstig without anyone asking questions. I wish I could’ve said goodbye.”

  “I understand the need for secrecy. It was just . . . It’s fine.” He waved it off, but he didn’t convince himself.

  “No, it’s not fine.” Samruel moved closer and seemed unsure what to do. “I knew my leaving would affect you. I could tell you . . .”

  “Idolized you?” Farrell closed one eye and smirked. “You can say it. I’ll be the first to admit it.”

  “I was going to say looked up to me, but I can handle being your idol.”

  Farrell laughed. “You always worried I had a crush on you once you found out I preferred men, didn’t you?”

  Samruel blushed, and it stood out on his pale skin. “Not always, but yes, I did worry about it sometimes. Every so often I’d catch you looking at me and I felt bad. I knew I’d never be able to return the feelings.”

  Now Farrell turned red. “It wasn’t like that. I wished you were my brother, not my lover. You were the only one who was nice to me. Not that the others were bad to me—other than Quonus, that is.”

  “Oh yeah, Quonus.” Samruel made a sour face. “I haven’t thought about him in years. What happened to him?”

  “He’s dead. I killed him.”

  “Really?” Samruel raised an eyebrow, and Farrell felt a shadow of darkness creep over him.

  “He joined Meglar’s side.” Farrell shrugged. “I won’t say it wasn’t personal, but he was the enemy of the Six.”

  “Whatever you two are doing, you need to stop and catch up,” Nerti said. “The queen and Kel are both annoyed.”

  “Sorry, we’re coming,” Farrell said. Samruel had his mouth open and his eyes darted around. “That was Nerti. We should talk as we walk.”

  “Good idea.” Samruel led the way. “I’m sorry about Quonus. I mean, that he was such a horned-bull’s ass.”

  “I think you just insulted horned bulls, but you don’t have anything to be sorry about. You were the one who protected me.”

  “Not that you needed me. Even at twelve you were a better wizard than Quonus or me.”

  “No.” Farrell shook his head. “I had more power, maybe, but you were a better wizard than either of us. I never told you how much I appreciated you, especially when Quonus was older. He could’ve hurt you and yet you always stood up for me.”

  “You were a kid and he was a bully. What else should I have done?”

  Farrell laughed. “You could have sided with him. Then I’d have been in real trouble.”

  “Did you worry I’d do that?”

  Farrell remembered those days well. Before he understood what it meant, he’d had a crush on Samruel. Even after he settled on an older-brother or best-friend relationship, there was a part of him that still wished for more. He’d been extra careful not to let on how he felt to avoid scaring Samruel off.

  “Sometimes I did. Not that you ever suggested you would, but I was just some kid with no family or importan
ce. I worried you’d get tired of always watching out for me.”

  “Right.” Samruel looked over and stared at Farrell. “Turns out you are important and so is your family. Or should I say, our family.”

  “Not that I knew it at the time.”

  “Which of Kel’s sons are you descended from?” Samruel had that “gotcha” look in his eyes.

  “Did I tell you that I’m joined and have two children?”

  “I thought . . .”

  “Miceral is a man, Muchari actually.”

  “You joined with a Muchari?” He shook his head. “Wait. What does that have to do with my question? Are you trying to change the subject?”

  “No. I’m trying to answer what you really want to know.” Farrell held up his hand.

  “What does having children with a Muchari . . .? How did you and he have children?”

  Farrell laughed. “We didn’t have them ourselves; Kel gave them to us. Well, not Kel. Honorus directed Kel to give them to us.”

  “I’m confused. What does this have to do with which son of Kel you’re descended from?”

  “My daughter is five years old and my son is two and they were born almost thirteen centuries ago.”

  Samruel’s surprise turned to irritation. “You’re making no sense.”

  “Almost there,” Farrell said with a smirk. “After the first war, the Six and Neldin each picked a house from which to draw Their Champion from. The Six chose Kel and his house. Neldin chose the house of Vedri. They became Zargon’s royal family. Since he chose Vedri, Neldin has had his servants track down and kill Kel’s descendants. Kel spent much of his time finding, protecting, and hiding his family. He saved Geena and Bren, my children, from the ambush that killed their parents. Then he used a status spell to preserve their lives. Every fifty years or so he’d wake them for a day. When they woke, they only aged one night. Their bodies are only five and two, but they’re also over thirteen hundred years old.”

  “And that completes my confusion.”

  “You were suggesting I’m Zenora’s son.” Farrell raised an eyebrow, daring Samruel to deny it. “I’m pointing out that how old I appeared when you met me means nothing, so don’t assume anything. To finally answer your question, I trace my line to Kelmis, just like Geena and Bren.”

  “How many of you did Kel save?”

  Farrell shrugged. “He doesn’t share such things with me. Yesterday was the first time he told me he hid some of his descendants here.”

  “We wouldn’t be a hidden kingdom if he told people.”

  “True, and he did tell me there were others if something happened to me. Still, I’m not big on people keeping things from me.”

  “Says the wizard who keeps secrets from his friends.”

  “I never kept anything from you; I didn’t know. You, however, did know and kept secrets from me.”

  “I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk back so much,” Samruel said with a laugh, “especially since you always have a good answer.”

  Farrell stole a glance and turned away. He’d always thought Samruel handsome. In the intervening years he’d filled out some and lost the boyish face. As a preteen Farrell had spent a lot of time thinking about his friend. Even then he knew it was foolish; Samruel wasn’t interested in men. Which was now a blessing. Without thinking he snorted.

  “What’s so funny?”

  His daydream having drawn unwanted scrutiny, Farrell did his best to ignore how hot his face felt. “I was saying a pray of thanks to the Six that you were interested in women. Otherwise things might be awkward now that we’ve found out we’re cousins.”

  “Farrell!” Samruel scowled at him. “Nothing would have happened even if I preferred men. You were thirteen when I left.”

  “Trust me, being thirteen didn’t stop me.” His cheeks burned hotter. “I shouldn’t have shared that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. But be assured, I would have never done anything even if you were my type. You were way too young.”

  Farrell arched a brow. “Was I? My daughter is thirteen hundred years older than you. You don’t know how old I am.”

  “That’s different. It’s not the year you were born that matters, it’s how many days your body has aged.”

  He’d never seen Samruel so flustered. A part of him wanted to keep his friend back on his heels, but it served no good purpose. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to share any details or argue with you that you’re wrong. Geena is five, not thirteen hundred and five. But even by that measure, my life partner is almost a hundred years older than me. Age isn’t that important.”

  “It is when you’re nineteen and the kid who has a crush on you is thirteen.”

  Not responding would be a tacit admission he’d had a crush on Samruel. “Given my preference for much older men, I wouldn’t know.”

  “I definitely liked you better when you were younger.” Samruel feigned anger, and Farrell let it go with a laugh.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Queen Pertrice sat in the chair at the head of the table. Everyone else, including King Ervend, remained standing. A chair slid back, and the sound of it scraping the floor echoed in the large room. Several soft gasps interrupted the silence, followed by a chorus of truncated questions.

  Kel barely acknowledged the noise and sat facing the queen. It was a testament to Pertrice’s will that she maintained her stoic expression. Kel scanned the room and shook his head.

  “Did you think the prohibition against the use of magic in this room applied to me?” The question wasn’t directed at any one person.

  “We are well aware that you created the spells that guard our kingdom, Grand Master Kel,” Ervend said. “But one doesn’t sit in the queen’s presence until given permission.”

  This time Farrell admired Kel’s control. He might wave off any suggestion he was still king, but he expected people to let him brush it off before they forgot. Keeping his gaze on the queen, Kel let the silence drag on. They engaged in a test of wills, and Farrell wasn’t sure who would prevail. Finally, Kel leaned his staff forward and sat back.

  “Choose carefully who you seek to set yourself above.” His focus never left her. “If you wish me to stand until you give permission to sit, I will get up. Then I will leave before you can say a single word and take every scrap of magic Beatrice and I left behind with me.”

  The king clenched the back of the chair and Samruel tensed beside Farrell. Kel skipped firing a warning shot. Instead he threatened the foundation of Stigerian society. Farrell’s skin prickled as every wizard in the room gathered energy.

  This time Kel didn’t seem likely to break the standoff. He’d handed the choice to Pertrice and he’d wait for her decision. Farrell knew better than to interfere, but the stalemate might not end well for anyone.

  Pertrice blinked and inhaled. “My apologies, grandsire. It is rare we receive guests and certainly no one of your status. The rules that apply to others do not apply to you.”

  Around the room people exhaled and wizards let go of their spells. The energy level diminished, but Ervend remained tense. Farrell kept alert and poised to act.

  “Accepted,” Kel said. “I’m sure you have many questions for us. If you’d like, we can answer them now.”

  “Why are you here?” Ervend asked.

  Kel motioned to a servant standing nearby with a tray of drinks. He selected a goblet and took a sip.

  “Excellent flavor,” he said as he set the cup down. “Who do you trade with to get citrus this far north?”

  “What’s he doing?” Farrell asked Nerti.

  “Watch and find out.”

  “I am watching, and he appears to be antagonizing the people we came to for help.”

  Ervend slapped his palms onto the table. “I asked you a question!”

  “Yes, I heard.” Kel moved his gaze from the queen to her husband. “But as you pointed out, the queen rules here, not you.”

  “Don’t play with me, old man.” Ervend
walked around the queen’s chair. “I’m still the king, and I have a right to answers.”

  As he approached Kel, the queen’s right arm shot out and stopped him.

  “Stay yourself!” Pertrice said. She raised an eyebrow at Kel and then looked toward Farrell and Samruel. “My husband speaks for the crown in matters such as this. Why are you here?”

  “To gather the armies loyal to the Six to defend our world from Neldin and His Champion.”

  “I knew it!” Ervend said. “I told you he came to drag us into their affairs.”

  “What do you know of my affairs?” Kel asked.

  Ervend laughed. Humorless and dry, it oozed contempt. “Just because we keep to ourselves doesn’t mean we have no contact with the world. The merchants talk of nothing else except the war Zargon unleashed on Ardus. It does not concern us.”

  “You ought to be very troubled by what Meglar does,” Farrell said. “Remote as your kingdom may be, once he has conquered the rest of the world, he’ll find a way to reach you.”

  “So Kel’s trained pet has a voice but no opinion of his own,” Ervend said with a sneer. “Keep quiet and let your betters speak.”

  “Excuse me?” Farrell lurched forward, and Samruel grabbed his arm. He shrugged and freed himself. “In case you missed the introduction, I am the king of Trellham and high king of all dwarves. That alone makes me your better. I’m also heir to the spells that protect you. Speak to me like that again and I’ll turn them off and march my army down your throat.”

  “Now who’s making it worse?” Rojas asked.

  “Silence, panther,” Flemin said. “This is how a dwarf king responds to insults.”

  Ervend glared at Farrell. “How dare you!”

  Releasing the dampeners on his aura, Farrell marched up to the opposite end of the table. “I did not strike the first blow, but I’ll not take the next one without a fight. You can take that as a standing challenge. Insult me again and you will learn the meaning of dwarfish justice.”

  “This is absurd!” Ervend threw his hands in the air. “A human—a human wizard—expects us to believe he is high king of all dwarves.”

  “Though his word ought to be enough, let me add mine.” Nerti’s hooves clacked on the stone floor as she moved next to Farrell. “Farrell is the king of Trellham and high king of the dwarves. Khron Himself appeared at the coronation. And since I know you don’t think you’re my better, I assume that puts this issue to rest.”