Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2

by Andrew Q. Gordon

Peter’s face turned white, and he swayed on his feet. “Pervis came to the Citadel?”

  “I know about your… ah… interest in Pervis.” Wilhelm looked uneasy discussing the topic. “Don’t worry. I’m not upset with you. But you’ll need to select better friends in the future. Pervis and his father informed me several days ago that unless I gave their family exclusive trading rights to several lucrative luxury goods, they’d let all of Belsport know you and he were… ‘lovers,’ I believe he said.”

  Peter shook and his face turned red. “How could he? We agreed to keep it to ourselves.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s often how it works for people like you and me, Peter,” Farrell said. “The first person I fell in love with was an officer in the Yar-del palace guard. He was the younger son of a minor noble and very handsome. Turned out all he wanted was for me to ask Heminaltose to speak to Queen Zenora about a promotion. When I refused, he dumped me.”

  “What did you tell him, Father?” Peter’s voice cracked from the attempt to control his anger.

  “I told him it was a mistake to blackmail a prince of Belsport and had them both arrested for attempted extortion.” Despite a hint of satisfaction, Wilhelm seemed unhappy telling his son what had happened. “We can talk more tomorrow, but I wanted to be the one to tell you what happened.”

  “Thank you, Father, and thank you for… for being… for not being mad.” Peter gave his father a thin smile.

  “You’re welcome.” Wilhelm hugged his son again, then turned him toward the door. “Go get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  “Good night, Father.” Peter turned to Farrell and extended his right arm. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”

  Farrell clasped his hand to the younger man’s forearm and bowed slightly. “You’re welcome.”

  When Peter left, Wilhelm stared hard at his guest. He picked up a bottle of port, poured two glasses, and handed one to Farrell. “It’s one of the best vintages I’ve found in years.”

  They sipped their wine quietly before Wilhelm broke the silence. “You’re an intriguing person, Prince Farrell. In the span of a few days, you’ve upset our sedate lives and pushed us all in ways we hadn’t intended.” Looking over the rim of his glass, he kept his gaze on Farrell. “I’m not sure what to make of you, but my children trust you implicitly, my wizard fawns over you like you were Heminaltose reborn, and I find myself unable to dislike you, even though you’re forcing change on me at a pace unheard of in Belsport’s history.”

  Unsure what Wilhelm wanted, Farrell let his host control the conversation.

  “Things are happening in the world that will affect everyone. Somehow, you’re tied to this change. I just don’t know how. As I see it, you’re either Belsport’s greatest friend or its worst enemy. Deciding which will determine the fate of my people and our city.”

  “I have no ill intentions toward you or your city, Wilhelm.” Farrell wanted to say more but held back. “I’m not sure how I can convince you otherwise.”

  “No.” Wilhelm shook his head. “Enemy is the wrong word. You will either lift us all up, or you will bring ruin upon all you touch.”

  “Meglar is the destroyer of nations, not I.” He took a small sip to cover his annoyance at the statement.

  “He will be the instrument of our destruction, but your fight with him has a personal feel to it.” The prince refilled his half-empty glass. “Those you befriend become a target for his wrath.”

  Farrell’s body tingled, and he raised his shields around them both. Ignoring the glare from his host, he searched the room for the cause.

  “What in Arritisa’s name are you…?” Wilhelm’s protest died as Farrell lowered his shields.

  A large milky-white manta ray fluttered soundlessly over the balcony. Silently, it floated into the room and stopped just before the pair. Farrell dropped to his knees and bowed his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Wilhelm do the same.

  “Greetings, Farrell, Servant of Honorus and Lenore.” Arritisa’s voice appeared inside his head. “And to you, Wilhelm, favored among my followers.”

  “Holy Arritisa, You honor us with Your presence.” Farrell kept his head down, waiting to be granted permission to look upon the goddess.

  “Holy Mother of the Sea.” Wilhelm’s voice came out low and halting. “How may I serve You?”

  “Meglar is a threat to all nations, Belsport included. As My Chosen, Farrell leads the efforts of all who oppose Our Brother Neldin’s Servant. You will give what aid you can to Farrell and his efforts to carry out My will.”

  Arritisa turned her gaze to Farrell. “Chosen, you must reveal to My follower that which you keep secret. Though I do not counsel you make public this knowledge, My follower must know for reasons I shall not share.”

  When did he become Her Chosen? “I understand and will do as instructed,” Farrell replied. Though he was uncomfortable with the idea, it would be unthinkable to ignore Her direct command.

  She returned her attention to Wilhelm. “Prince of Belsport, on you I lay a prohibition. What you learn today you may not share with anyone who does not already know the secret. Willingly, I know you would not do so, but there are others who can compel your words against your will. Against that threat, My will shall prevent you from breaking this confidence, even unto death.”

  She extended a fin, compelling each to rise. “Go forth and honor Me, Wilhelm of Belsport and Halloran of Yar-del.”

  Before Farrell could register his shock at Her words, Arritisa disappeared.

  FARRELL LAY with his head on Miceral’s chest, enjoying his partner gently massaging his neck.

  “Can it really be a bad thing to be the Chosen of Arritisa?” Miceral ran his hand through Farrell’s hair.

  “Who can tell? I just don’t want more demands on me. Honorus’s task is more than enough already.” Half-asleep, he barely heard Miceral laugh. Yawning again, he exhaled and pulled Miceral closer. “Tomorrow I’ll ask Erstad and Wesfazial if they know what it means.”

  When Miceral attempted to get up, Farrell reached for his hand, almost getting dragged off the bed in the process. Seeing his surprise mirrored on Miceral’s face, Farrell laughed. “Where are you running off to?”

  “Running off? I’m trying to get undressed.” Leering at Farrell, Miceral started to unbutton his tunic.

  Moving back against the pillows, Farrell put his hands behind his head to watch. “Don’t let me stop you; get to undressing.”

  Miceral’s hand dropped to his waist, and he returned to the bed. “I think it might be more fun to do it together.”

  FARRELL WOKE wrapped in Miceral’s arms, feeling his partner’s arousal behind him. How easy it would have been to renew last night’s activities if only they didn’t have a full schedule today. Still, he couldn’t resist snuggling back a bit.

  “Someone’s awake.” From the tone of his partner’s voice, Farrell felt certain if he turned around, Miceral would be grinning ear to ear.

  “So is someone else.” Farrell wiggled around for emphasis. “Too bad we have to do our morning exercises, or we’d have time to enjoy it.”

  Rolling to his right, Miceral pulled the sheets with him as he got off the bed. “We’ll have time for that again tonight. Now, it’s time to get up.”

  Farrell turned on his stomach, hiding his excited state. “Seeing you naked makes me think of a different morning exercise we could do.”

  When he turned to see Miceral’s reaction, the sheets hit him in the face. “Save it for later. Right now, get dressed.”

  Miceral was stretching when Farrell found him. Joining him on the mat, Farrell stole a glance as he leaned forward to stretch his hamstrings. The big grin on Miceral’s face made it hard to keep his focus.

  “What’s gotten into you this morning?” Miceral asked.

  “Can’t I wake up in the mood? This is our postunion vacation. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” Adjusting the front of his
trousers, Farrell realized he had to stop thinking about it or he’d never get through the day.

  Miceral laughed, causing him to break his stretch. “Yes, we are, but it’s not the only thing we’re supposed to do.”

  For the first thirty minutes, Miceral stuck to conditioning exercises. Hands on knees, Farrell paused to catch his breath before they progressed to combat moves. “I can’t believe I lost that much over just a week.”

  Farrell gratefully accepted a cup of water, downing it in one long drink. “You didn’t lose anything.” Miceral refilled his cup. “I pushed you much harder than normal to see if you had. I guess all that nighttime exercise does help.”

  Water flew everywhere as Farrell erupted in a fit of coughing. “I’ll get you for that.”

  The spell on the front door announced they had a visitor. Still trying to catch his breath, Farrell didn’t object when Miceral left to answer see who was there. He’d just started stretching again when his partner returned, Prince Peter in tow.

  “I came by to thank you again for yesterday.” Peter seemed more relaxed, and Farrell noticed a spark in his eyes not there the day before. “Father explained many things over breakfast this morning.”

  Farrell gave him a smile but kept to his routine. “I’m glad it turned out well. Having been in your position, I could relate to what you were going through.”

  Nodding, Peter looked around the room and at both of them. “Is this the training Alicia said she interrupted you doing?”

  “Yes.” Miceral tossed Farrell a towel and put away the water and cups. “We still have a bit left before we’re done.”

  “Do you mind if I watch?”

  “So long as you stay against the wall.” Miceral pointed to the spot farthest from where they practiced. “I don’t want to explain to your father how you got hurt if I accidentally toss Farrell into you and you break a bone.”

  Farrell glared at him but got back into position. After another thirty minutes, and numerous red marks on Farrell’s torso, Miceral ended their session.

  “Much better than last time.” Miceral smiled, holding out a clean towel. “It has to be all—”

  “Don’t say it!” Farrell turned red.

  Despite not knowing the joke, Peter laughed. “You do this every day?”

  “Just about.” Trying to hide his embarrassment, Farrell focused on healing the more obvious or painful bruises. “What brings you to see us this early?”

  “Father asked me to inquire when you wanted to start work on the new shields.” If being a messenger for his father upset the younger prince, he didn’t show it. “He said he wants to be certain everything you need is ready.”

  After pulling on a loose-fitting beige tunic, Farrell poured himself some more water. “I do, but I did want to go over things with him and Darius first.”

  Peter nodded. “Father assumed that would be the case if you wanted to start today. I’ll let him know.”

  After walking Peter to the door, Farrell noticed food had been brought in while they exercised. Peeling a boiled egg, he felt Nerti’s touch on his mind as he took a bite. “Erstad wishes you to open a Door from his room to where you are now.”

  “Would you tell him I’ll open it in his study?” Shoving the rest of the egg in his mouth, he reached for another.

  “It shall be done.” Rather than leave his mind, Farrell felt her continued presence. “When will you be back, Wizard? I miss our rides. Klissmor is equally restless. The clerics see to our needs, but we prefer to run, and without you, it’s hard to get anyone to let us onto Gharaha to exercise.”

  Though necessary, given their unique nature, leaving Nerti and Klissmor behind now made Farrell feel guilty. Not that he’d forgotten her during his stay in Belsport, but he hadn’t been mindful of her needs. “I don’t know when we’ll be done in Belsport, but Miceral and I can come back to go riding with you if we’re not finished here today.”

  “That would be appreciated, little one.” Thinking about how to make it up to Nerti, Farrell almost forgot to open the Door for his mentors. Knowing what lay ahead for the rest of his day, he took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “Right, no more daydreaming.”

  FARRELL GLANCED around Belsport’s audience hall as he entered with Miceral and the three Haven wizards. The similarities to the palace in Yar-del put a damper on his eagerness to begin this project.

  Light poured into the room through large windows on either side, adding a degree of warmth for entrants on their way to the throne. Scenes of Belsport’s nautical history inlaid on the tile floor in bright, vivid colors drew the eye down to admire the work.

  Their footsteps echoed in the massive room, dancing among the four rows of thick gold-trimmed columns. In front of them, the ornately carved, jewel-encrusted throne sat empty, as did the two smaller seats on either side.

  Darius entered from a side door, accompanied by two younger men in constable garb. The epaulettes on their uniforms spoke to their high rank. Farrell noted the one to the right was a master wizard of some power.

  Nodding to his guests, Darius motioned for the officers to step forward.

  “Prince Farrell, allow me to introduce Captain Aderic of the wizard constables and Captain Reinhard, who commands the bulk of the city guard as well as sees to the training of our militia.”

  Bowing just the right amount, as he’d been trained, Farrell did his best not to appear dismissive. Unable to suppress his excitement, he smiled as he turned to Darius.

  “Did you find enough rocks in the size we need?”

  Eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement, Darius nodded. “I believe we have suitable stones for your needs. When Prince Wilhelm arrives, I’ll take you there so you can inspect them yourself.”

  Moments later Wilhelm, Peter, and a company of soldiers arrived. Glancing over, Peter gave Farrell a smile. Darius quickly opened a Door into a dark, long warehouse. Six globes of wizard’s light appeared, providing ample illumination.

  Arranged in rows of ten, dozens of rocks, all about the same size, beckoned to Farrell to come inspect them. For the moment, he focused on the one noticeably larger in the front.

  “As you instructed,” Aderic announced. “Dense granite, not lime or soapstone.”

  Farrell barely heard the man, having moved to the stones. He laid his hands on the large one first, then pulled the black staff from his back and tapped the platinum tip against the rock. Using his free hand and the staff, he searched the stone for imperfections.

  Longer than Farrell was tall, the stone sat chest high and about the same across. A few spots troubled him, but he expected this. He grasped his staff by the end, extended his arm fully, and circled the boulder slowly. A dull brownish glow stretched from the staff, encasing the stone as he moved. When he had come full circle, the brown cocoon pulsed once before the energy seemed to absorb into the rock.

  “I found a few faults that could’ve fractured the stone if it were stressed too much. They’ve been corrected, and this should be perfect for the job.” A mischievous grin crossed his face when he turned to Wilhelm. “The combined weight of these stones is quite high. I hope I’ll not drain your treasury too much when Haven collects its payment.”

  Wilhelm feigned a pained expression. “This is indeed a prince’s ransom, but if it works as you say, I’ll have paid a fraction of what it’s really worth.”

  Moving behind the large stone, Farrell surveyed the rows before him.

  “One hundred and twenty, nonporous stones. Each about two hundred pounds.” Darius appeared at his side, pointing to the neatly arranged rocks. “They are roughly the same size and shape and came from the same quarry.”

  Holding his staff out, Farrell slowly passed through the ranks. A tendril of brown energy enveloped almost every rock. Twice, he stopped and ran his hands over a stone, and cast it aside both times. After the last inspection, Farrell looked up, smiling.

  “I’ll have more than I need if my calculations on the distance around Belsport are co
rrect. Have you selected a location for the central stone?

  Darius nodded. “A basement room in the Citadel has been cleared for our use.” Motioning to Aderic, he changed the terminus for the still-open Door.

  Aderic moved the large stone and set it in the middle of the room before anyone could enter. Following Aderic, Farrell did a quick survey of the windowless room. It measured about ten by twelve feet in area, with a door at either end. With the stone in place, the others almost didn’t fit into the chamber. Extending his senses, Farrell checked their location in relation to where the shield would be created. Satisfied with the placement, he focused on the next step.

  He asked everyone to stand against the wall to give him space to move if needed. Lifting his legs, he floated over the stone and shielded the room to hide his work from whomever Meglar had left in the city. Confident he could complete the complex spell, he began.

  Weaving the collection, storage, and transfer spells into the stone, he completed the stable portion of the process fairly quickly. Focusing on the rest of the spell, he kept his mind on the work. Spells only did what the caster told them to do. But for this project, he needed to account for things as they changed. Even grand master wizards rarely attempted dynamic magic this difficult. And for good reason. Too many controls and the spell failed; too few and it ended up unfocused and ineffective. Either could cause the spell to reflect back on the wizard casting it, often with dire results.

  For this, he decided to use a few dedicated parameters and shunt control from the spell to the wizards keyed to it.

  Unlike a Source, this stone could not store great amounts of energy or the spells would deteriorate. To prevent such a breakdown, the prime directive for the stone needed to be to push the collected power evenly to each of the active receptors. He planned to use two types of recipients: the stones, and wizards approved by Prince Wilhelm. Unlike the stones, however, the wizards couldn’t be passive recipients. Left unchecked, the stone could feed a wizard too much energy while they slept. By making the stones passive receptors and the default for all energy distributed, he avoided harming any unsuspecting wizard.