First Love (Champion of the Gods)

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  First Love

  THE KISS sent a tingle coursing through Farrell’s body. He bent his head slightly and let Cameron’s tongue part his lips. Even standing in the side hallway of the palace, he ignored the possibility they could be discovered and enjoyed the moment.

  They pulled back and caught their breath. When their eyes met, Cameron smiled. “Happy birthday, a day late.”

  “How…?” Farrell stared, his mouth slightly open. They’d exchanged glances two days before but hadn’t spoken. And his party had been just his mother, his teacher Grand Master Heminaltose, Grand Master Sanduval, and two other wizards he’d never met before. Aside from him and his mother, there hadn’t been anyone under two hundred years old to celebrate his age of majority birthday.

  “Just because I’m not a child prodigy wizard like you, doesn’t mean I can’t find out things.”

  Being called a child anything stung. At sixteen—seventeen now—he’d done things well beyond his years. And Cameron was only four years older. Despite wanting Cameron to like him, he couldn’t stop from sniping back. “You mean by spying on me?”

  “Ouch.” Cameron put his hand over his heart. “You wound me, Farrell. I’m a lieutenant in the queen’s guard. Spying is beneath my dignity.”

  When Cameron smiled, Farrell forgot about any perceived slight and returned the grin. “True, you are the son of a baron. Spying wouldn’t be a respectable career choice.”

  “No, it wouldn’t be at all.” Cameron pushed a lock of blond hair behind his ear and inched nearer. He brought his lips closer until they almost touched Farrell’s. “The guard was told the queen and Grand Master Heminaltose were going to throw you a surprise birthday party. I tried to get assigned, but the queen told the captain who to select.”

  Closing the last bit of distance, he captured Farrell’s top lip between his and sucked gently. The effect went straight to Farrell’s groin. And from what he could feel, Cameron was equally aroused.

  “You asked to be assigned?” It was all Farrell could think to say. Cameron’s interest surprised him. Where Cameron was athletic and handsome, Farrell was skinny and plain. Despite his mother’s protests, Heminaltose allowed—nay, encouraged to the point of required—Farrell to use a high degree of magic at a far younger age than was typically allowed. Too much magic during adolescence made it impossible for him to bulk up, even a little. And though he was wiry and strong, he’d much prefer to be referred to as “‘athletic” than “whipcord tight,” as one bedroom partner had said.

  Living inside the mountain that housed Heminaltose’s school also left Farrell socially awkward. He saw few people other than wizards, who had little interest in socializing with a teenager—even one as talented as Farrell.

  Cameron laughed softly and took a half step back. “Why are you so surprised? I sought you out today, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but….” The thought that Cameron had discovered his infatuation left Farrell unable to form a proper sentence.

  “I thought I saw something in the way you looked at me when we both had to sit through that meeting with Pelipan’s ambassador. What better way to find out than to be around you more?”

  “You mean like you did this morning?” Farrell smiled, remembering how Cameron had volunteered to be his guard today.

  A hint of red appeared on Cameron’s cheeks as he shrugged and looked away for a moment. “It was clear the queen and your master weren’t keen on the idea of you going into the city on your own. I thought it would give me a chance to find out if what I thought I saw was real. Happily, I was right.”

  “Yeah.”

  Cameron leaned closer and kissed him again. “I have to go. My tour starts soon and I don’t want to be late.”

  “I know.” Farrell hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt.

  “I don’t want to go, but I can’t shirk my duty.”

  “I understand duty. I have my own to attend to.” Heminaltose had stressed that concept since their first lesson together. “My master requires my presence tonight when he dines with the queen.”

  “At least you get to be around the queen. Most people in the palace would gladly trade places for a chance to impress her.”

  “It sounds more grandiose than it is.” Farrell shrugged and stuck to the story he and his master agreed he should give if asked. “I’m just Heminaltose’s assistant. The queen doesn’t ask my opinion.”

  “Still, it beats mucking out the stables.” Cameron winked and Farrell smiled. He took Farrell’s hand and rubbed gently. “That’s better.”

  “Can I see you again?” A hint of desperation crept into his voice despite his best effort to keep it out.

  “Actually”—a glint of something twinkled in Cameron’s eyes—“I was hoping you might be free around tenth hour tonight.”

  “Really?” Farrell caught himself and nodded. “I mean, sure, I’m free.”

  “Good. I can give you a real birthday gift tonight.”

  They kissed again, a lingering one that made Farrell’s body tingle. The world around him faded away. He closed his eyes and all that registered were the lips touching his, the body pressed against him, and the way Cameron’s tongue explored his mouth.

  Their moment ended before Farrell was ready. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at Cameron’s smiling face. Without breaking eye contact, Cameron backed away, holding on to Farrell’s hand as long as he could. Finally the distance forced him to release his grip, and Farrell felt as if a part of him left with Cameron’s hand.

  “I’ll meet you here at a little past tenth hour?” A hint of anxious uncertainty punctuated Cameron’s question.

  When his vocal chords refused to work, Farrell nodded. Cameron winked again and turned on his heel.

  Farrell’s stare could have burned a hole in Cameron’s back as he marched off. With every step his heels clicked on the stone floor of the corridor. At the intersection of the next hallway, he turned; then he smiled and nodded before walking out of sight.

  When he noticed he’d raised his hand to wave good-bye, Farrell quickly dropped it and scanned the area to see if they’d been observed. Not that it mattered if anyone had seen them, but he still preferred his privacy, especially here in the royal palace. Seeing no one, he relaxed and let out his breath.

  Tenth hour would take an eternity to arrive, but they both had to attend to their duties. Although Cameron seemed suitably impressed by his appointment, it didn’t improve Farrell’s mood.

  He stopped himself as he started to think of ways to get out of dinner. Not going wasn’t an option. More importantly, Heminaltose only allowed Farrell brief visits to Yar-del City to see his mother. Skipping dinner meant one less chance to spend time with her. And he’d see Cameron at tenth hour.

  “Boy.” The deep voice behind Farrell made him freeze.

  He turned slowly but already knew who he’d find. “Master Heminaltose.”

  Dressed in his formal blue-gray robe, he leaned on his white wooden staff and tilted his head to the left. “What brings you to this out-of-the-way place? And why are you just standing there?”

  Farrell had been in trouble often enough to know his master suspected him of something. When he tried to answer, his mouth went dry and his tongue turned to stone.

  “Well?” The older man raised his bushy white eyebrows and peered down his nose at his student. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

  His euphoric mood dashed, Farrell knew better than to lie. “I came here to meet someone.”

  “Someone?”

  “Yes, Master, someone.” This approach never worked, but he’d been too embarrassed to answer directly.

  “Don’t treat me like a fool.” />
  Despite being at least an inch taller than his teacher, Farrell felt like Heminaltose towered over him.

  “I’m not, Master. I… I just….” His cheeks flushed and he started to sweat. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s private.”

  “Private? You mean…?” Heminaltose jerked his head back and his eyes opened wider. “By the Six! Now? Your hormones have decided to kick in now?”

  His embarrassment complete, Farrell turned away to hide his anger. Most days Heminaltose didn’t even remember Farrell existed, and he had to pick now to come looking for him.

  “Just leave me alone.” The words came out before he could stop them. Trouble didn’t wait long to find him.

  “Boy! You do not address me like that.”

  “Why not?” Hurt, embarrassed, and angry, he spun with the fires of Neblor in his eyes. “We both know who I really am. I’ve reached my majority. I have the right to speak how I like.”

  Heminaltose’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak. A muscle twitched in his cheek, and he flexed his fingers around his staff. The silence dragged on until he nodded slowly. “I wondered how long it would take you to assert your position. You wasted no time, did you?”

  The cold, measured response scared Farrell more than the scathing rebuke he expected. His master was slow to anger, but unlike most men, Heminaltose rarely lashed out blindly. The hotter his fury, the more deliberate his reply.

  Having crossed the line, Farrell let his good sense take its leave. “Why do you care who I met? You barely know I’m alive unless you want something. Did you know I lost my virginity? Of course not. Because when I tried to talk to you about it, you didn’t care enough to speak to me. Told me you were too busy for a child’s idle chatter. Do you remember that, Master?”

  Farrell paused to take a breath. Had he used the moment to reflect on his actions, he would have stopped. But he’d let his anger seize control, so he pressed on. “But when it’s obvious I don’t want to talk about something personal, you press me for an answer. You’re just trying to embarrass me. So, yes, I am going to assert my position.”

  The fire of his resentment cooled, and Farrell shook as he waited for a response. Heminaltose’s gaze never wavered, but the tick in his master’s left eye told Farrell he’d gone too far.

  Braced for a reaction, Farrell flinched when Heminaltose tapped his staff once on the stone and nodded. “Your mother asked that I let you know she will be late for dinner. She asked that we join her at seventh hour. Since I will be out on the queen’s business and otherwise engaged, I sought you out to let your highness know he could have the rest of the day to himself. I will advise your mother of our conversation, and you can explain it to her, as I’m certain she will want to know the details.” He gave his student a mocking bow and turned on his heel.

  Watching the older man walk away, Farrell realized the full impact of his actions. Not only would he have to tell his mother who he’d met, but she’d find out his secret as well.

  His magical day, the one nothing could ruin, was gone. Worse, his temper made sure he’d have to tell the queen that her son, her only child, wasn’t going to produce an heir. With a war pending, she didn’t need to be concerned about the future of the kingdom.

  Unfortunately, mouthing off to his master meant nothing he said now would stop Heminaltose from reporting his conduct to his mother. Heminaltose would tell the queen to give Farrell a demonstration of his position in the scheme of things. Farrell might really be Prince Halloran of Yar-del, but Grand Master Heminaltose was a legend who transcended political boundaries. He was also Yar-del’s most powerful ally in a time of war. That, more than anything, set him above Farrell.

  “Neldin’s balls, what did I do?” he whispered as much to keep the tears away as to curse his stupidity.

  FARRELL LISTENED to the rhythmic pounding of the waves far below the cliffs upon which Yar-del City had been built. He sat with his feet dangling over the thirty-foot-high outer walls and stared at the white caps moving under the nearly full moon. He often came to this spot to be alone with his thoughts and to wonder what his life would have been like had he been allowed to live in Kel’s gleaming city.

  Grand Master Heminaltose, would have said “What-ifs are a fool’s exercise” and chastised Farrell for wasting valuable time. But it was his free time, and Farrell used it as he pleased.

  Movement to his right reminded him that tonight he hadn’t come alone. In fact, he hadn’t come of his own volition. Queen Zenora had ordered him to come with her to the top of the walls, and she was not only his queen but his mother.

  “I’m not angry, Farrell.” Her voice broke the tranquil moment like steel on stone. It was a lie. She only brought him to the ocean’s edge when she was upset.

  “If you say so.” His sullen mood had not improved in the hours since he’d disrespected his master.

  The summons to attend the queen had come well before seventh hour. He understood the importance of what happened. Even if the world didn’t know who he was, he was still the heir to Yar-del—Zargon too, technically. Any trysts he had, especially those that could produce an heir, were of concern to the crown.

  “It just took me by surprise.”

  That was an understatement. His only consolation was the angry glare his mother gave Heminaltose for being totally oblivious to Farrell’s preference for men. Seeing his master flustered almost made it worth the embarrassment of telling his mother—almost.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I never wanted to give you something else to worry about.” Though she didn’t react as he’d feared she might, he’d hope for something better. “I’ll join with whomever you ask me to.”

  The thought of joining with a woman didn’t appeal to him, but he knew he had an obligation—or rather he would once his mother publicly acknowledged his true name and heritage. It was a child’s dream to believe he could fall in love with whomever he wanted.

  “Ha—Farrell.” Her almost use of his birth name reminded him she still thought of him as the baby she’d sent away. “I don’t want you to join with a woman if your heart says to join with a man. And I’m not disappointed. Well, that’s not true. I am disappointed, but not with you. Not in the slightest.”

  “If not with me, then who?” He appreciated the attempt, but her reaction said all he needed to know.

  She inched closer and put her arm around his shoulder. Despite the mood, he leaned closer and let her wrap him in a hug. They had too few private moments like this for him to waste.

  “Me, dear. I’m disappointed in myself.”

  “You? Why?”

  “I’m your mother, even if I’m not allowed to acknowledge it in public. A good mother would have known well before you told her. Instead, the news struck me like ocean water on a winter’s day. Any anger you saw was at myself for failing to know my own son.”

  Some of the anger was probably directed at Heminaltose, but he knew she’d not say that out loud to him. Her attempt to make him feel better, however, had the opposite effect. Now he felt worse for burdening her.

  “You have more important things to worry about than me or who I’m attracted to.” Even he wouldn’t have been convinced by his words. “There aren’t enough hours in a day as it is.”

  “Oh, sweetie, you can be upset with me.” She pulled him tighter and kissed the top of his head. “Time is preciously short, but if that’s true in general, it’s even more true in relation to you. It feels like yesterday you were a little baby. I missed so much, and this is another time where I was too busy being queen to be your mother.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” In this, at least, he truly did. His throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. The tingling in his nose started an instant before tears leaked out the sides of his eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Zenora’s body went stiff, and she pushed back with a jerk. “No, Farrell, it’s not okay. I promised myself I’d never be too busy for you during
the short time you visit. I wanted to do and be so much more, but the war happened sooner than we expected. It’s not okay that I couldn’t help you through this time. It hasn’t been so long ago that I've forgotten what it is like to be a teenager, seeking to understand yourself and your position, and trying to… well, I won’t embarrass you by talking about that.”

  Under cover of darkness, Farrell’s face turned red. He thanked the Six she didn’t try to talk to him about sex.

  “So, yes, I am going to worry about you. You’re my son, even if I can’t tell everyone. And I am proud of you and who you are.”

  “But if I don’t join with a woman, there won’t be anyone to take my place.”

  Zenora laughed and ruffled his hair. “There is always someone to take your place, dear.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, but you miss my point.” The lighthearted moment passed, and he noted her sad expression returned. “There is nothing that says the house of Kel—or any house—must rule. That is a concept the nobility has perpetuated for their benefit. They have a vested interest in succession being hereditary. It is not. When Honorus was unhappy with Vadra, He deposed him and put Hevnor on the throne of Kentar. If you die without an heir, Honorus will find someone else to rule in your stead. Of that I’m certain.”

  She paused and looked at him. Tilting her head to the side, she raised her eyebrows and smiled. “So you see, succession won’t be an issue. In fact, it’s far less of a problem than Heminaltose suggested.”

  “Less? How so?”

  “Um… well….” Zenora chuckled and stared out to sea. “You told him you’d lost your virginity. He assumed… let’s just say he was worried you might have sired a child no one knew about. That would have created serious issues for the crown.”

  “Nothing to worry about there,” he said softly.

  Zenora reached over and pulled him closer again. “Farrell, I’m sorry. No, hear me, please. There is so much that has been out of my control. Sending you away was not my choice. Though my heart will never agree, in my mind I knew it was necessary. If Meglar knew you lived, he’d have stopped at nothing to find you. I see him in your face, but you are nothing like him. Sadly, keeping you safe came at a terrible price to you.