Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Unlikely. Not for the fee you paid us.” Farrell raised an eyebrow, daring them to challenge him. Hearing nothing, he said, “Despite our obvious shortcomings, we are returning a more worldly and confident prince than you entrusted to our care. You will be pleased by how he’s handled himself.”

  “I’m not surprised. He is my son, after all. I never doubted he’d impress you.”

  Peter shifted his weight and peered down at his boot. “Father, did you really come all this way just to trade barbs with the hired help?”

  Darius and Miceral joined Wilhelm in laughing, while Farrell tried to glare at his friend. His look had no effect on Peter.

  Wilhelm rubbed his son’s head. “No, son, I did not. First, I want to let you know how proud I was to hear of your actions on the Seafoam Rose. No father could ask for a finer son.”

  Under his father’s praise, Peter started to blush. Wilhelm’s eyes looked moist, but his expression turned more serious. “Sadly, my real purpose is to share some disturbing news. As you suspected, Farrell, Meglar enlisted the services of one of my neighboring princes. That dung-for-brains Garreth has visions of ruling all the free cities of the west.”

  Farrell frowned. “No doubt those dreams were provided by Meglar and his wizards.”

  “No, I suspect he and the other princes all harbor such dreams. Meglar merely gave him the means to act on his desire.”

  Wilhelm explained how two days ago, Prince Garreth of Vilencia launched a surprise attack on his southern neighbor, Therssen. None of Meglar’s mindless Chamdon were spotted among Garreth’s forces, but he had powerful magic no one expected. The swiftness and ferocity of the attack completely overwhelmed Therssen in a single day. Prince Erick managed to escape Therssen along with some of his navy and sent warnings up and down the coast.

  “Our aid won’t reach Dagur before Garreth’s army.” Wilhelm’s voice held more defeat than his words. “Prince Saulmen is readying for an attack, but if Garreth hits him with the same force as he used in Therssen, Dagur won’t survive long enough for our reinforcements to arrive.”

  “If Dagur falls, what will you do?” Miceral asked.

  “We’re going to make a stand at Hamble.” Darius looked at Wilhelm, who nodded. “Our greatest need is wizards. We have no idea what Garreth is doing, but Prince Erick said his wizards were swept aside.”

  Farrell understood why Wilhelm needed to speak with him immediately. “You want my help.”

  “In a word, yes,” Wilhelm said.

  His first instinct was to agree, but he held back. “I… I can’t abandon what I’m doing. It’s too important—more so now than ever.”

  Wilhelm gave him a confused look. “Now? What happened since you left Belsport?”

  The idea of explaining his utter defeat at Meglar’s hands stole Farrell’s voice. He gave Miceral a pleading look.

  “Meglar found a way to incapacitate Farrell using one of Kel’s spells. Now Farrell needs to find Kel to learn what else he can expect.”

  Darius sat up in his chair, his eye wide. “You fought Meglar? When?”

  “No, not Meglar.” Farrell breathed out loudly. “Meglar gave a pirate—a nonwizard pirate—a weapon. Without going into too much detail, it was targeted for me. According to Father Gedrin, who got his information from Cylinda, Kel devised a spell that uses a wizard’s energy to penetrate their shields. He piggybacked onto that spell another one that traps the wizard in his own mind. If help hadn’t arrived, I’d have died for sure.”

  “Help? Who else was on the Rose?” Wilhelm searched from Miceral to Farrell to Peter. “I thought you were the only wizard on board.”

  “Wilhelm….” Farrell had to force himself to calm down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just I’d rather not talk about that right now.”

  “It’s not a good topic.” Miceral put a hand gently on Farrell’s back. “We can talk about what happened another time.”

  Darius and Wilhelm exchanged glances but neither protested.

  “Besides….” Farrell tried to sound more in control. “We need to get to Haven so we can send you some assistance.”

  “Wait.” Wilhelm held out his hand when Farrell started to walk toward the Door. “There’s more. The attack on Therssen isn’t why I requested to speak with you. I could easily have sent that in a message. This isn’t widely known, but last night someone attempted to assassinate Alicia and myself. Fortunately, we were on alert following Garreth’s attack. If we hadn’t been, Darius isn’t sure he and the wizard constable would have spotted it in time.”

  “So either Garreth moved too soon or the assassin waited too long,” Miceral said.

  “Probably the latter, if I had to guess.” Darius sounded as tired as he looked.

  Farrell saw the fear in Peter’s face and remembered the day his mother and Heminaltose set out to confront Meglar. “You want Peter close so you can guard him, I assume.”

  “No.” Wilhelm moved behind his son and grabbed his shoulders. “I want him to stay with you and Miceral until we figure out who is behind this. Naturally, we assume Meglar is ultimately the puppet master, but we don’t know who is doing the dirty work. Keeping Peter far from Belsport makes sense while we ferret out the bastard.”

  Farrell mulled his friend’s words before answering. “You do realize what I’m about to do may be even more hazardous to Peter than returning to Belsport or better still, residing at Haven.”

  “Yes, I understand. I want to send Alicia to live at Haven. Under different circumstances that would have delighted both her and her would-be suitor, Prince Jursten, beyond words, but she doesn’t want to leave me.”

  “She’ll be safe there.” Farrell left out At least until Meglar shows up.

  “I know. But her living at Haven means I want Peter somewhere else. When I sent him off, I felt he was safer with you two than with anyone else. I still feel that way. And he looks up to and respects you both. I’m confident he would rather stay with you two than go anywhere else if he can’t come home.”

  Peter twisted until he could face his father. His look of fear had grown the more his father spoke. “Father, I’m ashamed to say I spent the last ten minutes before you arrived trying to convince Farrell to ask you to let me stay with them. I never thought to ask if I was needed back home.”

  “Peter.” Wilhelm tilted his chin up. “This was supposed to be your coming-of-age trip. Your last big adventure before your duty to Belsport forced you to be responsible instead of carefree. I sent you with Farrell and Miceral for many reasons. Your safety was but one of them. They are excellent role models for you, and they are true friends. I wanted you to learn from them and forge friendships to last a lifetime. Had you asked and had they agreed, I’d have let you stay with them as long as they felt safe.

  “Now I must ask you to stay with them, not only for your safety, but for the good of Belsport. Separated as we are, you, your sister, and I will ensure our city will not be leaderless even if one of us should fall. It’s a lot to ask of you, but I know you are strong and understand your duty. I said before, I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried. You will be a great ruler, but even more, you will be a good man.”

  Farrell watched them hug and let them have their moment. When they moved apart, he cleared his throat. “We will of course let Peter stay with us during this crisis, but Miceral and I reserve the right to send Peter to Haven if we think things become too dangerous.”

  “Thank you. It is a comfort to know he is with you two if people are trying to kill my family and me.” Wilhelm turned back to Peter. “Son, I apologize for not consulting you first, but I truly believe you are safer with Farrell and Miceral than back at Belsport. Hopefully this won’t be for very long.”

  Peter gave his father a quick but forceful nod of understanding. “Make sure you keep safe, Father.”

  “I will.”

  “Let me take you and Darius to Haven.” Farrell motioned toward Peter’s room, where his Door remained active.
“I want to speak to Erstad and Cylinda to arrange what assistance we can provide.”

  “Don’t be long, Farrell. We’re supposed to meet with Markus and Penelope before dinner.” Miceral kissed Farrell quickly before he let him leave.

  “No promises. I might need to locate a few weapons I want to give Darius and the others before I come back. That might take a bit of time.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Farrell redirected the Door to Haven. He knew it wouldn’t take long to arrange things, but he had plans to speak to Cylinda before he came back to Dumbarten. That might take a bit longer.

  FARRELL RETURNED to find Miceral pacing their suite.

  “What happened? You were gone almost an hour.”

  “Cylinda left Haven, and no one could tell me when or to where.” He still didn’t like the lack of information. “But Erstad promised to get word to her—how, he wouldn’t say. After that… discussion, I stopped by my workroom so I could find a few weapons to send back with Darius.”

  “You look tired.” Miceral slipped behind him and began to knead Farrell’s shoulders. “Should we cancel dinner?”

  “No, I don’t think we can without offending the king.”

  “Markus doesn’t seem the type to find slights where none were intended.”

  Farrell let Miceral continue for a few more seconds before he turned around to give his partner a kiss. “This isn’t about a slight. He’s going to be eager to hear more about what I found in Kel’s room.”

  “But you don’t know any more.”

  “True, but that won’t matter to them.” He grabbed Miceral’s hand and led him back to their room. “Let me find suitable clothing for dinner.”

  The knock on the door stopped them a few feet from their room. “I forgot, Penelope sent word she and Marisa would stop by to take us to the king. That must be them.”

  “Stall for a minute. I just need a clean tunic.” He left Miceral to greet their guests.

  Footsteps behind him caused him to turn around. Peter stood at the foot of the bed. “Welcome back.”

  “Thanks, I think. You sound disappointed.” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. With a thought, he sent it into his saddlebag with a flash.

  “Nice trick.” Peter sat in a plush blue velvet-upholstered chair. “I’m not disappointed, just confused. I wanted to stay, but now that I am, I want to be back in Belsport with my father.”

  “Totally understandable that you want to be there to help.” Farrell pulled out two shirts, a blue and a tan one, and held them up. “Which one?”

  “Are you joking?” Peter closed one eye and tilted his head. “I have no fashion sense at all. A fact my sister gets endless leagues of enjoyment from.”

  “Blue,” Miceral said from the doorway. “It gives you more color.”

  Holding the blue shirt to his chest first, then the tan, Farrell showed them to Peter, who shrugged. “They both look fine to me.”

  “Well, then, blue it is.” He sent the unused shirt floating back to the small chest he and Miceral shared.

  “Don’t you ever do things the normal way?” Miceral walked over and shut the chest.

  “That is how I normally do things.” He winked at Peter and put on the shirt. “Do you really want me to change?”

  “Not a single thing.” He wrapped his arms around Farrell’s waist and pulled him closer. “I love you just as you are.”

  “Time for me to leave before I get sick.” Peter hopped off the bed.

  “Did you tell them about Dagur and the attempt on Wilhelm’s life?” Reaching into his endless pocket, Farrell retrieved the simple gold crown he wore as Haven’s prince.

  “No. I thought we’d do it when we met for dinner.”

  Farrell fought the frown he felt forming on his lips. “This is going to be a cheery and uplifting dinner.”

  “I’d be surprised if members didn’t send word back to the Order about Dagur, but I doubt they know about the attack on Wilhelm. We need to tell Markus to be sure.”

  “True.” Farrell sighed and stared at the crown. “I thought about wearing the Yar-del crown, but there are too many servants to be sure no one will talk.”

  “No need to justify it to me.” Miceral gently turned him around and took a step back. Farrell handed him the crown and let Miceral adjust the gold circlet. “You look handsome either way.”

  “Somehow I don’t think anyone cares if I’m handsome.”

  Miceral leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “Maybe not, but I do.”

  Before Farrell could feel self-conscious, Miceral grabbed his hand. “C’mon, they’re waiting for us.”

  FARRELL WRAPPED both arms around the thick down pillow and pushed his head deeper. He reached out for Miceral and found only an empty bed. Cracking open an eye, he found himself alone in their room. He debated returning to sleep but decided it must be late or else Miceral wouldn’t have left the bed.

  “Miceral?” Farrell threw back the sheet and swung his legs off the bed.

  “In the sitting room.”

  Extending his arm, Farrell summoned his pants. As he stepped into them, he remembered Miceral’s comment from the night before. Rather than fetch his shirt, he walked over to where it had been left. Once he slipped it over his head, he left their room to find his partner.

  He wanted to say he felt more “normal” having not used magic to call for his shirt, but he didn’t. The added time, however, made him feel inefficient.

  Before he left the room, he pulled back the blinds. From the position of the sun, he determined ninth hour had passed already. Even he never slept past eighth hour.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You’re still recovering. I figured your body would let you know when it was time to get up.”

  The answer shouldn’t have bothered him any more than being allowed to sleep late, but both events left him mildly irritated. He almost said something, but he knew concern motivated Miceral’s actions. That thought made him smile as he walked to find Miceral.

  “I woke up alone while I was in the infirmary. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

  “Does it help I held you all night?”

  Farrell reached the sitting room and found Miceral staring out the window. “Yes.”

  Miceral turned, a smile on his face, and moved toward him. “Good, because I plan to hold you every night from now on.”

  “Every night?” He tried to sound upset, but his smile ruined the effort.

  “Yup.” Miceral wrapped his arms around Farrell’s waist. “And no using magic to keep me away.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He might use it to make Miceral hold him but not to push him away. Farrell stole a quick kiss and twisted so his back was to Miceral’s chest. Pressed against his partner, he always felt safe and happy.

  A knock on the door intruded into his moment. Farrell wanted to ignore it, but they were guests in Markus’s house. “I’ll get it.”

  Not happy for the interruption, he tried not to show his irritation as he opened the door. “Princess Penelope, Lady Marisa, what brings you to our quarters?” Farrell bowed politely and motioned for them to come inside.

  “I hope we are not disturbing you,” Penelope said.

  “Not at all.” The words rolled off his tongue smoothly, and even he almost believed his lie. They swept their gazes up and down his hastily thrown-on clothing.

  “Are you sure?” Marisa’s tone suggested she thought something very different from the truth.

  He blushed, which only reinforced what they thought. “No, you’re not. I just woke up. Miceral let me sleep late.” Marisa raised an eyebrow, making his face burn hotter. “He thought I needed to sleep more to recover my strength.”

  Penelope laughed, making his embarrassment complete. “Oh stop, Prince Farrell.” She touched him lightly on the arm. “We know what you mean, but it was funny how the more you tried to explain, the deeper you dug.”

  “He’s quite good at that,” Miceral
said from behind them.

  “Thanks for the help.”

  “You were doing fine.” Miceral moved closer and bowed. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  “Farrell requested my help.” She turned toward Farrell. “Or did I misunderstand?”

  “No, I asked, but I thought you’d give me some time to read Kel’s books first.”

  The princess rolled her eyes and licked her lips. “You’ve had all morning to read those books. Why do you think we waited this long before we knocked?”

  “All morning? Are you joking?” He turned from her to Miceral to Marisa and back. “It’s barely past ninth hour!”

  “Exactly. There are less than three hours left before noon. Had you risen at dawn as I do, you’d have had over four hours to cull his books for information.”

  Miceral’s soft chuckle grew until the sound of his laughter drew all eyes to him. He took a deep breath to collect himself and said, “Forgive me, Princess, but even in the best of times, dawn is not something Farrell is apt to see. Right now, however, Farrell is under healer’s orders to get as much rest as he can.”

  “Whatever the reason, dear, Farrell doesn’t rise at the same time as you.” Marisa gave Farrell a wink. “And no amount of complaining will change the fact that he hasn’t read the book yet.”

  “I was not complaining.” Penelope looked at the others in the room. Finding no support, she sighed. “Okay, I was, but it’s a valid one.”

  “Why don’t I take Miceral and Peter and show them around Dreth.” Marisa kissed Penelope on the cheek. “That will give you two time to read Kel’s books.”

  The thought of spending hours alone with the princess didn’t sit well with Farrell. She reminded him of some of the fussy old professors he’d had while at Heminaltose’s school. Unfortunately, it made sense to work with her, and she had the ability to get him easy access to the royal library if needed.

  He noticed Penelope staring, almost glaring, at him. “Despite my dislike of sunrises, I assure you I’m not lazy or a procrastinator.”