Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “I’ve been saying that for a while and no one listened.” He pushed up and this time Miceral let go. “Being right doesn’t make me happy. Luckily, we have a few unexpected resources that will even the sides.”

  “Pertrice and Tharles?”

  Farrell shook his head. “Them too, but I meant the Bendari shamans. Meglar’s army doesn’t know the Bendari follow them. I don’t understand how their chanting works, but it does. And there are a lot of shamans. They’re like Belsport’s wizard constables, only many times more numerous and more powerful.”

  Farrell stretched and held out his hand. Miceral looked at it for a moment. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re having a family dinner tonight. Neblor will break loose tomorrow and everyone will be too busy preparing for battle.”

  “Here?”

  Farrell laughed. “No, not here. It’s more of a community family dinner. All the rulers in exile, their families, our family, and close friends are coming. I had staff set up the Great Hall for a banquet.”

  “You?” Miceral didn’t have to try hard to look shocked. “Mr. ‘I hate formal state dinners’ planned a big formal dinner?”

  “Yes.” He gave Miceral a fake smile. “Someone had to. I know you’ll think I’m being negative, but some of us won’t be coming back. I’m not saying you or me, but it would be naïve to think everyone will survive. I want one last time together with our family and friends before that happens. No speeches, no ceremony, just a celebration.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Miceral pulled him closer and kissed him. “Let’s go get ready.”

  Farrell watched Miceral sleep. He’d snatched bits of rest, but he had too much on his mind to sleep soundly.

  The night had been wonderful. Everyone pretended they were just having dinner. No one said goodbye, but the sadness below the smiles spoke louder than words. No one knew who wouldn’t be here after the battle, but everyone knew the same group would never meet again.

  When the children got tired, Urana took them home. Master Jina had attended to make sure Geena didn’t feel everyone’s hidden emotions. When her charge went to bed, she perked up some but still looked tired.

  The hardest part of the evening was seeing how others acted around him. He had the brightest target on his back. People didn’t say it, but they must have felt his odds were the lowest in the room. In truth, his chances were better than most, because he knew what he was facing and had prepared. Most of them were going into the unknown.

  Detection spells went off well into the night. Everyone agreed Meglar would be at Gharaha not the morning after the party but the next one. All the more reason he should have slept more.

  “You’re up early, Little One,” Nerti said. Her cheerful tone helped improve his mood.

  “I had planned to sleep later, but I’ve too many things weighing on me.” He paused to let her speak, but when she didn’t, he pressed on. “Since you’re awake, can you help me with something?”

  “Why do I feel suspicious when you ask like that?”

  “Because you’re wise and you know me.” He smiled at their bond. “Who is Lenore’s first priestess?”

  Farrell wondered if he’d insulted her. “That is not the question I expected from you.”

  “I thought I’d meet with all six before tomorrow.” It sounded silly telling someone. “The Six might have left something helpful with them.”

  “Your idea is well reasoned,” she said.

  Relieved, he pressed on. “I know the other five, but I’ve never met Lenore’s first priestess.”

  “Yes, you have,” she said in an amused voice. “I’m surprised you never realized it.”

  “Glendora? She told me she wasn’t the high priestess.”

  “Because she is not.” Nerti let him twist for a moment. “Grenda is Lenore’s High Priestess.”

  “Grenda? But she . . . how come . . .? She let Penelope ride her.”

  “Silly human, we all serve the Blessed Mother how we can. Grenda did whatever she needed, including helping someone else do Holy Lenore’s will.”

  “Grenda?”

  “I am glad to hear your surprise stemmed from that and not her being a unicorn.”

  “Of course not.” Had she not couched it in those terms, he’d have been offended.

  “We do not have temples and we do not need to gather in one place for our priestess to do Her work.”

  To him a service needed to be in a temple or at worst a makeshift one presided over by the prelate. “In this I do still think like a human.”

  “There is nothing wrong with that, Little One. Is there a message you would like me to convey?”

  “To her?”

  “To all six.”

  He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I would like to meet with them each. As a group or privately, whatever they feel best.”

  “I will speak to my sister-in-law for input on what to say to the others.”

  “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and prayed for a little more sleep before the others woke.

  The private dining room in Khron’s temple was full. Father Aswick agreed to host the meeting. When Farrell apologized for the short notice, the old dwarf brushed it off. Then he thanked Farrell for remembering he was Trellham’s king.

  They held a private service with each prelate, taking a turn invoking the blessing of their god. Hearing the passion and joy each brought to the task inspired Farrell in a way he hadn’t expected.

  “This was an excellent idea,” Father Gedrin said as he refilled his wineglass. “It was good of you to think of it, Mother Grenda.”

  “In this I was only the messenger,” Grenda said. “The Champion asked for this meeting.”

  “More wisdom from Falcron’s Chosen.” Father Lingum raised his cup and smiled. “Though I tease you, I second my brother’s comment; this was a good idea.”

  Farrell ran his finger over the rim of his water goblet. “I wish I could say I had pious intentions, but that isn’t true. My hope had been the Six passed down a message telling me how to use the Gifts. But as we’ve discussed, that isn’t the case.”

  “Are you still going to take the Gifts with you?” Gedrin barely concealed his desire for the Eye.

  “Leave him be, Brother,” Aswick said with a small laugh. “You know it is the will of the Six he have them with him tomorrow.”

  “But if he doesn’t know how to use them, why risk losing them?”

  His implied defeat notwithstanding, the question picked at an open wound for Farrell. “Are we back to this again?”

  Farrell’s glare dared Gedrin to get upset. The priest didn’t completely ignore it. “The Six never meant for one person to keep the Gifts; they are for all Their people.”

  Farrell snorted and shook his head. He couldn’t decide it if was stupidity or greed that drove the man’s insistence on being given the Eye.

  “That, Gedrin, is what happens when you substitute opinion for fact,” Lingum said. “They did intend for one person to possess them all. We know this because Honorus gave Velchuck the message he left for Farrell.”

  “The Gifts are where they are meant to be, Brother,” Burcia said. “The Blood was inaccessible to all but Her Chosen and only with the help of Seritia’s high priestess.”

  “Instead of this discussion,” Jolella said, “our time would be better used if we helped the Champion determine how best to use his one wish.”

  Gedrin remained defiant for another few seconds, and then he exhaled. “Agreed, with all of you.”

  Farrell tried to let the tension drain from him, but he couldn’t release it all. Gedrin would never be satisfied until Honorus’s high priest possessed the Eye. That wasn’t going to happen, but he could deal with it after the fight with Meglar.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Farrell woke when Miceral left their bed. Knowing what the day would bring, they’d held each other all night. They’d said all the words, and repeating them only renewed emotions better left dormant. T
hey agreed to follow their daily routine as much as possible. Not only did it ground them, they didn’t want to upset the children. Farrell bathed and checked the emergency supplies by the Permanent Door. Satisfied the children would be safe, he placed a spell on his endless pocket to send it to Jolella if he died. Finally, he picked out his most comfortable clothing.

  Lisle, Urana, and Teless were noticeably on edge. Miceral dismissed them while the four ate. Farrell made sure to keep tight wards around everyone to avoid triggering Geena’s empathy. Even with all the precautions, Geena noticed something was wrong. Farrell tickled her and tried to eat her food to get her to smile. When they’d finished, he gave them both an extra-long hug and passed them to their nannies.

  Trellham had five exits in the west. The northernmost was nearly parallel to Haven’s gate and led into a densely wooded area of the Hamble Forest. It was perfect for fleeing if the city had been overrun.

  Between it and the main gate, a small gate emptied onto a well-disguised road. A large open space just inside had been designed to marshal an army.

  The doors to the south were similar. The southernmost was ideal for evacuation and the one in between to release army units. Since most of Haven and Trellham would be involved in the battle in some fashion, Farrell said his goodbye near the main gates.

  He started with his mentors. Sanduval had made a surprising recovery. The healers used as much energy as they could to help him heal faster. The gruff, irreverent teacher persona was gone when they met. Instead, he and Heminaltose spoke of their pride at having been part of his training. Neither lingered over their words and passed him to his waiting adoptive family.

  The four peregrines spread their wings around him and bent their heads inward. They spoke of family, pride, and love. Before they broke, Rothdin invoked Honorus’s blessing on them all for their safe return.

  Horgon hugged him tight and whispered his own words of hope and love. They’d come full circle from their first meeting. That neither mentioned it felt right to Farrell.

  His mother waited for him with a smile that held back her tears. In lieu of words, he opened his arms and held her against his armored chest. He allowed her time to compose herself before he stepped back.

  “I owe him for every evil deed,” he said. “No matter what, he will not leave Gharaha alive. I promise.”

  “I know, dear.” She reached up and put her hand on his cheek. “Now promise me you will walk off and come back to us.”

  The promise died on his lips as he choked up. He swallowed and shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered. “But I promise to try.”

  He moved to Nerti and put their heads together. They’d spoken before he’d gone to bed. He’d expected a fight when he told her she couldn’t come with him. Instead, she’d accepted that she wasn’t allowed. She’d also promised to keep Zenora safe during the battle.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

  “As I said last night, that is premature. You will have much to thank me for in the future.” Her attempt at humor didn’t work this time.

  “As you say, my queen.” He kissed her once before moving on to the hardest goodbye of all.

  Miceral had watched him as he spoke to each of those closest to him. They’d agreed not to say goodbye. Farrell planned to honor that, but he couldn’t completely contain his emotions.

  “Be safe, Ral.”

  “Says the man about to face Neldin’s Champion.” Miceral held out his hands and Farrell accepted.

  “I know what I’m facing,” Farrell said. “Nothing is ever as it seems with Meglar. There is probably something in that army we haven’t accounted for, so be careful.”

  “I will.” He pulled them into a hug. “I’m not saying goodbye, but I want you to know how special you’ve made my life. I look forward to growing old together.”

  Farrell snorted through his tears. “That’s a long way off. Are you sure you’re committed to that much time together?”

  “Yes.” He kissed Farrell. “Make sure you’re there to hold me to it.”

  “I love you, Miceral.” Farrell could barely get the words out mentally. “Never forget that.”

  “I love you, too, Farrell, and I always will.”

  The kiss ended, and Miceral winked and walked off. Farrell watched for a second and then turned away. They’d said everything that needed to be said, and they both needed to keep a clear head.

  Vregar, newly promoted to second-in-command, stood with a company of guards. They snapped to attention as he approached.

  “Thank you all for your service,” he said. “You are relieved of duty. Go join the others who protect Miceral.”

  “My apologies, Your Majesty.” Vregar bowed deeply. “Our orders are to stay with you until you leave the mountain. After that we will join Captain Jagwin and the other guards.”

  Farrell laughed and shook his head. “He won’t give an inch up to the final blow.”

  “You’ve known the captain long enough to realize he won’t change.”

  “Indeed.” He stepped around them and stopped so they could assume their formation. “Since you dwarves fancy a walk across Haven and back, we should get started. I can’t have you too tired to protect the king.”

  The distraction was just enough to break through the sadness of leaving Miceral. He would manipulate the Doors along the way to shorten their trip, but it would still take some time. Vregar gave a command, and the company sang as they marched. The king of Trellham was walking through the city. If it was to be his last time, his guards wanted everyone to see him go.

  Miceral saw Farrell laugh at something the guard said before they walked off. It had been a close call not to beg Farrell to stay. He wasn’t prone to premonitions, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they’d said their final goodbye.

  Asking him not to go would only make it worse. Farrell had to go no matter what Miceral wanted. He was torn between wanting Farrell to look back, yet hoping he didn’t. Finally Farrell and his guards rounded a corner, and he turned his head a fraction of an inch right before he disappeared.

  Miceral smiled. He caught himself before he walked after them. Tearing his attention from the empty end of the hall, he concentrated on his part. Klissmor stood apart with Horgon, and he went to join them.

  Halfway across the room, a Muchari soldier ran up to Horgon. His father’s odd expression hastened Miceral’s pace. Horgon nodded and the solider ran off.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “We received a request from a mercenary company to join our army. I thought you might want to speak to their captain.” There was a hint of humor in Horgon’s tone that confused Miceral.

  “Why? What’s this about?”

  “Leothan assembled a company and signed on with Wilhelm before the battle of Pelth. He sent a message asking for you and permission to join us.”

  “Leothan said he’d been making his way as a mercenary,” Miceral said. “He’s a good fighter. If his company is a reflection of him, it would be an asset.”

  “I agree we could use every soldier we can find,” Horgon said. “I’m happy to offer him what we pay our soldiers.”

  “I’ll let him know. Where is his company?”

  “I don’t know. He’s outside, but his troops didn’t come with him.” Horgon pointed toward the main gate.

  Miceral nodded and went off in search of his old friend. Ten steps into his walk, Jagwin and twenty dwarves fell into formation around him. The friendly banter between the guards had dried up since Greigel’s death. Even the familiar small talk Jagwin usually had with Miceral disappeared. He didn’t blame them for their new dour attitude, but he missed the casual interaction they’d had before.

  The sun hadn’t risen high enough to clear the mountains, and the ground was still wet with dew. Leothan stood next to his horse surrounded by five Muchari soldiers. To others his expression might appear dispassionate, but Miceral saw his irritation. What had he expected?

  “Leo!�
�� Miceral couldn’t reach his friend because his guards closed ranks around him. “Captain, this is an old friend. We trained together as boys.”

  “As you say, King Miceral.” Jagwin motioned and the guards parted.

  “Another new aspect of your life?” Leothan smiled, and the two hugged. “Where’s that wizard lover of yours?”

  Miceral’s smile drained from his face. He could feel the guards tense behind him. “Your wit has always been a detriment.”

  “What did I say?” He held up his hands. “Last time we met you were just off your union ceremony and were going somewhere mysterious. Now you’re surrounded by dwarves who refer to you as king. Help me out here.”

  “His Majesty is the king of Trellham and high king of the dwarves.” Jagwin took a step forward. “Friend or not, one doesn’t address him in such a familiar manner.”

  “It’s fine, Captain.” Miceral put his hand out to prevent Jagwin from coming closer. “As he said, Farrell and I are the kings of Trellham. And my life partner just left to fight Meglar.”

  Leothan opened his eyes wider. “You weren’t kidding when you said he was important.”

  Miceral nodded but didn’t want to engage anyone in a conversation about Farrell. “I see you finally had enough of following others and created your own company.”

  “That’s not exactly how it happened.” He twisted a signet ring on his finger. “The old captain died in a skirmish, and the others asked me to take command. I’d gained something of a reputation for my fighting skills during my time in the company.”

  “We both know one of the reasons you left Northhelm was you didn’t like to follow orders.” Miceral smiled. “Now you get the fun of trying to get others to follow yours.”

  “I’m not entirely sure why I agreed.” He spun the ring around his finger again.

  Miceral pointed to the gold band on his friend’s hand. “When did you start to wear rings?”

  “What? Oh, this? It’s a symbol of command.” He shrugged. “It’s the least of the bothersome things about being in charge. Speaking of that, I sent word I wanted to add my company to our people’s.”