Except a father. The same thought might have crossed Lillian’s mind when Farrell didn’t speak right away. He wanted to say so much but decided to wait. Her grief was too new, raw.
“I’ll see that he didn’t die in vain,” Farrell whispered, not planning to give voice to the thought. “I swear it.”
“Ostert died fighting to make the world a safer place for me and our son.” She sat a bit straighter, a look of pride on her face. “He wanted our son to live in a world free of Meglar and his evil.”
He smiled briefly, seeing Ostert in his mind saying those words. “Your husband saw the world so differently from me. He kept everything simple. ‘Do what you know is right and ignore the rest as worthless noise.’”
Lillian looked up at him, smiling happily. “I see you knew the real Ostert. He was a good man.”
“He was.” He knelt, looking Lillian in the eye. “Everything is simple. Meglar must be defeated so your son can grow up without knowing such evil. I’ll see that he can.”
He kissed her hand and let himself out. Pulling the door shut, he closed his eyes and saw Ostert smiling at him outside Northhelm.
“Even if I have to die to make it happen.”
To my husband Michael, who encouraged me
to write and for making it possible.
SPECIAL THANKS to Lily Velden for the editing and to Chris T. Kat and Julie Lynn Hayes for the comments along the way.
IT TOOK the Seven to make the world. Each agreed to only hold sway over Their own domain. Until One wanted to rule it all.
The Great War of ancient times began when Neldin sought to rule the world. Using others as pawns, He sought to overthrow His brother, Honorus, as Lord of the Gods and to subject the other gods to His will. When that failed, Neldin sought to turn the world into an extension of Neblor by flooding the world with his dark creatures. He almost succeeded, but Kel, the Champion of the Six, thwarted him. Grand Master Kel destroyed Neldin’s bridge into the world, closed the Eight Gates of Neblor, and ended the war.
After His defeat, Neldin returned to Neblor. Followers of the Six destroyed His temples, and His followers abandoned Him or hid their devotion. Three thousand years passed, and the world forgot His evil and believed He’d been defeated for good.
Time, however, has no meaning to a god. While the world believed Him gone forever, Neldin spent the years plotting His next move. His followers worked in secret to set in motion His plans and to be ready to act when called upon.
Following the war, Kel founded Yar-del on the largely unsettled continent of Ardus. A few years later, rivals from Kel’s home of Kentar founded the kingdom of Zargon to the south of Yar-del. In time, other kingdoms sprang up to occupy the rest of the unclaimed land of Ardus.
Zargon and Yar-del developed a rivalry that often led to war. To aid his kingdom and his descendants, Kel created a Source, a near limitless storage vessel for magical energy. Kel and his heirs used the power advantage of their Source to defeat Zargon’s ambitions time and again.
In an attempt to end three millennia of hostilities, King Falon of Zargon proposed that his son Prince Meglar would join with Princess Zenora of Yar-del. King Bren of Yar-del allowed Meglar to court his daughter, and in time the two joined. Soon thereafter, they had a son, Halloran.
Unknown to Zenora or King Bren, Meglar secretly worshipped Neldin. Meglar’s true intention in marrying Zenora had been to obtain Kel’s Source. He planned to use it to not only conquer Yar-del, but Ardus and the rest of Nendor as well.
Just before Halloran’s second birthday, Meglar attempted to wrest the Source for himself. With the aid of Grand Master Heminaltose, Bren and Zenora succeeded in driving Meglar from Yar-del, but not before he’d managed to steal almost all the energy in the Source. During the fight, Meglar’s face was scarred, and he swore revenge on his former wife and her ally.
With his newfound power, Meglar returned to Zargon, killed his father, and assumed the throne. Worship to Neldin returned openly for the first time in three thousand years, and Meglar began to implement his master’s plans. Neldin gave Meglar an evil spell to warp human subjects into mindless creatures that could be easily controlled. By accelerating the aging process, the victims gained increased strength and stamina. These soldiers were called Chamdon and formed the core of Meglar’s army.
Heminaltose and Bren determined that Halloran could not be allowed to join his father and sent the toddler to Haven, Heminaltose’s hidden school for wizards. Word spread that Bren, fearful of what Halloran might become if Meglar captured his son, had ordered the child killed.
Once at Haven, Halloran’s name was changed to Farrell, and he was not told of his true birthright until after his thirteenth birthday. Heminaltose undertook the job of training Farrell while keeping an eye out for signs he might follow in his father’s footsteps. In the years after the theft of Yar-del’s Source, Heminaltose led a small army of wizards and clerics in converting Haven from a minor school into a vast hidden sanctuary for refugees against the day Meglar launched his attack.
A few months after Halloran’s seventeenth birthday, Meglar began his war to conquer the world. Despite the efforts of Zenora, Heminaltose, and all of Yar-del’s allies, Meglar laid siege to Yar-del City. Zenora, now queen following the untimely death of her father, along with Heminaltose, put up a vigorous defense. During the fight, Farrell tried to slip away and kill Meglar but failed in his attempt.
When it was clear they could not defeat Meglar, Heminaltose and Zenora gathered all their energy and as much of their Source’s power as they could contain and launched a final spell. The enchantment blinded Meglar and decimated his army. When Meglar could see again, Zenora, Heminaltose, the remains of the Yar-del Source, and everyone left in Yar-del City had disappeared. By removing all the survivors to a hidden location, Zenora denied Meglar a source of human hosts to create a new army of Chamdon.
Not privy to what his mother and former master had planned, Farrell found himself sent to Haven with the rest of the survivors. Grand Master Sanduval spread the word that Farrell was a distant relative of the House of Hevnor, Kel’s brother, and would henceforth be the prince of Haven. Masters Erstad, Wesfazial, and later Cylinda continued Farrell’s magical training.
After rebuilding his armies, Meglar resumed his attacks against the kingdoms of Ardus. First Endor, then Arvendia and Respital fell, leaving Farrell the last grand master other than Meglar. Despite the losses, Honorus refused to let Farrell engage his father, commanding he wait until Meglar came to Haven.
Sometime after the fall of Respital, while Farrell worked on the weapon he planned to use against Meglar, Honorus instructed Farrell to meet a messenger from Lenore and render what aid he could to His sister’s servants. Honorus also told Farrell that on this mission, he would meet his mate.
Nerti, queen of the unicorns and Lenore’s messenger, brought Farrell to Northhelm, already besieged by Meglar’s army. During the battle, Farrell met Miceral, a Muchari fighter. The attraction between the two was immediate, but time was short as Farrell deflected a direct attack from Meglar and erected a shield to protect Northhelm long enough to evacuate its populace. In the process he saved Takala, an injured peregrine, leading Grohl, Takala’s brother, to name Farrell their brother.
Safely at Haven, Farrell’s bond with Miceral grew stronger. Six months later, a delegation from Honal arrived at Haven, seeking aid in the coming war. During the meeting with Prince Kerstand of Honal and his cousin, Baron Glaus, Farrell inadvertently proposed to Miceral. Miceral accepted and their union ceremony was set for the Winter Festival.
Despite wanting a small private affair, Miceral’s father Horgon prevailed on Farrell to accept that as Prince of Haven, his union ceremony needed to be public. At the ceremony, the avatars of Honorus and Lenore appeared and blessed the union.
The next day, Farrell surprised Miceral by taking him to Belsport for the traditional postunion trip. While they stayed at an Inn under false names, two of Meglar’s wizards accoste
d them. The fight drew the attention of Belsport’s chief wizard, who recognized Farrell and arranged a meeting with Prince Wilhelm, the ruler of Belsport.
As part of negotiating an alliance, Farrell offered to create a protective shield around Belsport, using skills he’d developed working on Haven’s defenses. No sooner was the shield in place than Meglar, alerted by the death of his wizard spies, attacked. After fierce fighting, Farrell was able to repulse Meglar but was injured and rescued by his peregrine brothers. Farrell returned to Haven to recover, vowing that those lost opposing Meglar would not have died in vain.
“WHY DON’T you go find Kerstand and go for a ride?” Miceral pulled a dark blue tunic over his head.
Farrell liked the color, but the shirt prevented him from watching the muscles on Miceral’s torso ripple as he moved. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I’m trying to help you find your way back to your old self.” Moving closer, he massaged the top of Farrell’s shoulders. “Ever since we returned from Belsport, you’ve been sullen and you keep to our apartment. Three weeks is long enough.”
“I’m not sullen.” He needed time to go over all the decisions that had led up to his failure. Meglar shouldn’t have been allowed to get inside Belsport, and Farrell should have stopped him.
“You don’t get to decide that.” Miceral scooped him off the end of the bed. “I’m the only objective party here, and I say it’s time to break out of your funk.”
Farrell’s bare feet touched the cool stone. “How can I take Kerstand riding with me? His horse can’t keep up with Nerti.”
“Nordric has agreed to bear the Prince of Honal,” Nerti said.
His eyes narrowed as he realized what happened. “You enlisted Nerti in your scheme?”
Miceral’s face lost its playful twinkle. “I’m worried. You took Ostert’s death very hard. We all mourn his loss, but it’s an unavoidable aspect of war.”
“I know what happens in war.” Hearing the unwanted snarl in his voice, he let out a loud breath. “Ral, I’m sorry. Each time I lose someone close, it reinforces the magnitude of my failure to kill Meglar.”
He laid a hand on Farrell’s cheek, rubbing gently with his callused thumb. “We’ve talked about this before—you’re not to blame.”
“No and yes.” Placing his hand over his partner’s, Farrell closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The hint of chamomile soap mixed with Miceral’s scent always calmed him. “I understand I wasn’t ready, but it will always haunt me. Every death, especially someone I’m close to, makes me wonder if I could’ve done something more.”
“Even if you could, it wouldn’t have changed anything.” Miceral pulled them closer together and kissed Farrell softly. “Learn from the past, but don’t dwell on it.”
Farrell leaned in for another kiss. When he pulled back, Miceral spun him around and swatted him on the butt. “Now go collect Kerstand and go for a run.”
“Yes, m’lord.” He did his best to give a foppish bow. “Anything to please the royal concubine.”
Miceral raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Anything?”
“Um….” His heart rate jumped as he stopped midturn. “Don’t you have to meet Horgon for the morning ‘complaint’ session?”
“Well….” Miceral glanced at the clock and then smirked. “Father can wait a bit. I don’t want to be accused of failing in my duties as husband to the prince.”
“THAT WAS the most amazing thing!” Prince Kerstand of Honal’s windblown hair and red face did nothing to diminish his enthusiasm. “I felt more secure than if I had been in my saddle on an easy ride.”
“It’s a feeling I never tire of, no matter how often I ride with Nerti.” They stopped at the foothills of the mountains that formed the southern boundary of the Plains of Gharaha. Scanning the area, Farrell felt a bit of his improved mood evaporate under the press of responsibility. “You three may keep running if you like. I need to check on something here.”
Kerstand turned his gaze north and toward the vast expanse of open ground. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t be much of a companion if I leave you alone.”
“Prince of Honal.” Nerti’s testy voice made Farrell swallow a laugh. “Do you not see me here?”
“Um… well, yes, but….” The younger prince shot Farrell a pleading glance.
“Since you see me, you must be implying I do not count or else you would not have suggested that without your presence, Prince Farrell would be alone.” The unicorn queen inched forward, her horn aimed at Kerstand’s groin.
“No!” Kerstand’s hands searched Nordric’s neck. He looked down, then back at Nerti, before trying to move the stationary unicorn beneath him. “Your Majesty, I would never…. I mean, I never meant to suggest you were nobody. Never. What I meant to imply was Farrell….”
Laughing now, Farrell gently rubbed Nerti’s neck, keeping his eyes on his friend. “Do you really want to debate this, or do you want to ask Nordric to start running? He can’t outrun Nerti, but I’ll do my best to keep her with me if you go now.”
“Run off,” Farrell told Nordric, hoping to spare his friend more discomfort. As the pair raced away, he chuckled again. “Do you realize how intimidating you are when you’re displeased?”
“Of course, child.” He heard the hint of laughter in her tone. “Nordric has already explained to him I am not really upset. He has taken far too much pleasure in teasing you when Miceral is around. Now he knows you are never alone, even when I’m not physically there.”
She did that for him? Not that he needed help, but she’d certainly put Kers back on his heels.
“Did I do something to upset you?” Nerti’s question broke his introspection.
“Upset me? Why would you ask that?”
“You never responded after you learned what I did.”
Farrell leaned forward to hug her neck. “No, my queen, I’m not upset, just surprised. You are usually so serious with others. Who knew you had such a playful side.”
“There are many things about me you do not know.”
“No truer words have I heard than those.” She couldn’t see the playful grin on his face. “But I’m happy for the company.”
Farrell turned his focus to the spells he and others had laid onto Gharaha. Here at the edges, farthest from the Sources, the spells would degrade first. He dismounted and placed his left hand on the ground. Power tickled his palm as he touched the different magics that protected Haven.
Nowhere in Heminaltose’s vast library had he found any evidence of this much high magic in one place. The concealment spells gave him the most concern. He pushed past them to check the integrity of the other spells vital to Haven’s survival. Covering one spell with another frequently caused interference to such a degree that the underlying magic failed entirely. If that happened, he’d need to find a solution—fast.
He poked and prodded at his work, looking for any sign of deterioration, any hint of discord among the various magics just below the surface. Finally, he stood up.
“I told them it would work.”
“Do you address me?” Nerti’s voice reminded him he was not alone. “If so, I do not understand the context of your statement.”
“My apologies, Nerti. I’ve developed the bad habit of talking to myself while I’ve been out here working. Erstad and Wesfazial argued that a cloaking spell of this magnitude would degrade the spells it was meant to conceal. I tried to tell them I figured out a way, but they didn’t believe me. Now I can show them that I was right.”
“Perhaps if you showed a bit more humility when you are right, they might accept it better.”
Farrell laughed as he mounted. “I’ll try, but I fear I have been in your presence too long, my queen.”
“If that were true, you would be far more modest than you are today.”
Nerti’s playful banter and the condition of the spells left him buoyant on the brisk midwinter day. Feeling more like himself, he knew he needed to make things up to Micer
al. Looking for Kerstand, he spotted Nordric at the far end of the plains, running as if he sought to outpace the cold wind whipping around the valley. Hopefully his friend wouldn’t mind going back.
“No matter how long you allow him to ride, it won’t be enough.” Nerti started to walk slowly toward the still-open Door.
Remembering the times he’d ridden Nerti when they ran for the sake of running, Farrell smiled as he watched Kerstand. “I understand the feeling.”
“I shall tell Nordric to meet us by the Door.”
A few moments later, Nordric executed a gradual looping turn to reverse direction and raced toward his mother. Despite how fast Nordric ran, Nerti would still be there first.
Farrell used the ride back to continue his examination of Haven’s defenses. He’d started to follow a line of energy back to the Source when his mind brushed against something that felt… it felt wrong. An instant later, it disappeared. After several attempts turned up nothing, he let it go.
“Is something wrong?”
Nerti’s question forced him to put what he felt into words. “I don’t really know. For an instant I thought I felt something wrong, but it vanished before I could isolate it. Perhaps I just imagined it.”
Nerti stopped walking but didn’t answer. Farrell used the silence to try again, with no better success.
“I sense nothing.” She started to run again. “But as you said, it vanished when you searched closer. Keep alert should you feel it again.”
Had he imagined it? Possibly, but it felt real enough. Then again, if Nerti didn’t sense anything, it might have been just an echo of something from somewhere else. He let it go when he saw Nordric running hard for them.
“Gods of Nendor, that is amazing.” Kerstand’s smile proved infectious. “Riding that fast and without a saddle.”
“Sorry it wasn’t a good outing, I’ll try to do better next time.”
Kerstand shook his head. “We all had such hopes that spending time with Miceral would improve your sense of humor.”
Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2 Page 38
