Champion of the Gods, Books 1-2 Read online

  3rd Edition

  In a war that shook the earth, the six gods of Nendor defeated their brother Neldin, god of evil. For three thousand years, Nendor and the Seven Kingdoms have known peace and prosperity and Neldin's evil was nearly forgotten.

  But then Meglar, wizard king of Zargon, unleashes the dark magic of the underworld and creates an army of creatures to carry out his master's will. One by one, the sovereign realms fall as a new war between the gods threatens to engulf Nendor.

  Leading the opposition to Meglar is Grand Master Farrell. Young and untried, Farrell carries a secret that could hold the key to defeating Meglar—or it could destroy the world.

  Farrell is joined by Nerti, queen of the unicorns and Miceral, an immortal muchari warrior the Six have chosen as Farrell's mate. As Farrell and his new allies make plans to counter Neldin's evil, Meglar forces their hand when he invades a neighboring kingdom. Rushing to help their ally, Farrell and Miceral find themselves in the middle of the battle. Cut off from help, Farrell attempts an untried spell that will either turn the tide or cost he and Miceral their lives.

  1st Edition published by Dreamspinner Press, February 2013.

  2nd Edition published by DSP Publications, February 2015.

  After defeating Meglar at Belsport, Farrell returns to Haven to recover from his injuries, but Khron, the god of war, has other ideas. He gives Farrell a new mission: free the survivors of the ancient dwarf realm of Trellham from their three-thousand-year banishment. To fulfill Khron's near impossible task, Farrell will need the help of his distance ancestor, the legendary wizard Kel. But Kel has been dead for a thousand years.

  Farrell finds information hinting that Kel is alive, so he moves his search to Dumbarten, Kel's birthplace. To reach Dumbarten unannounced, Farrell and Miceral disguise themselves as mercenaries on board a merchant vessel. Their journey is disrupted when pirates attack their ship. While attempting to subdue the attack, Farrell is struck down by one of Meglar’s minions.

  Unconscious and trapped in his own mind, Farrell's only chance for survival rests with Miceral and the peregrine king Rothdin entering his thoughts and helping him sort fact from illusion. To reach Farrell, they will need to rely on an untested spell from one of Kel's spellbooks. If they succeed, Miceral can guide Farrell home safely. If not, Farrell will destroy not only himself, but Miceral, Rothdin, and everyone around him.

  To Michael,

  for twenty years and counting

  and for encouraging me to write;

  and to Isobel,

  because you steal my heart every day.

  There are several people without whose help this never would have been published. E.J. at Gay Authors for taking a chance on me when no one else had. Cia for helping me get this down to size. Amber, for being the best damn beta reader on the planet. Lorraine, for teaching me how to write better and for the “family discount.” Elizabeth and everyone at Dreamspinner for taking a chance on me. And Michael for pushing me to write again and for putting up with me every day for the past eighteen years. A very special thank-you to Augusta Li for the map. Despite a short deadline, low-quality rough draft, and some unclear directions from me, you did an amazing job.

  This story was originally titled Chosen of Honorus and commissioned by the Gay Authors website for their premium content section.

  PRINCE FARRELL of Haven sat cross-legged, hovering three feet above the ground, dwarfed by the stone pillars on either side of him. A gentle spring breeze swept softly over his skin and lifted his long brown hair as he faced the mountains. The morning sun had just crept over the horizon to begin its westward journey.

  Stifling a yawn, he shook his head, remembering how his mentors had talked him into getting up this early. Next time they offered to make him dinner, he needed to find an excuse to eat elsewhere.

  He closed his eyes and felt the area around him, from the dips and curves in the land forming a shallow bowl before him to the hoof-hardened Plains of Gharaha at his back.

  The nape of his neck tickled as a droplet of sweat ran down, but he tuned it out, feeling instead for flaws in the rock in front of him. He needed the dimensions to be perfect. Anything less threatened his chances of defeating Meglar, the greatest and darkest wizard of their time.

  Balance and symmetry, that’s how this weapon would work. He blinked, satisfied. The twin stone monoliths were six hundred feet apart and fifty feet tall. A section of the mountains had been smoothed and polished to a height of exactly three hundred feet. From tip to tip, his work extended one mile on either side of the gates directly in front of him. When closed, the gates would be entirely undetectable. Even by a great wizard. Even by the greatest wizard.

  Yes, the left side felt perfect; now for the right.

  As he closed his eyes and refocused on the right side, an eagle screeched in the distance. Another screech cut through the air, and with it came a tingle. No matter how he tried to ignore the piercing sound, he couldn’t. No ordinary bird called to him.

  Reaching out with his senses, he tried and failed to locate what his ears told him he should find. Startled and annoyed, he roused himself and looked up. A pair of brilliant blue eyes, mere inches from his face, greeted him.

  Discipline and training couldn’t stop him from pulling back. Mouth agape, he stared at the enormous white eagle hanging motionless before him. An avatar.

  “Most Holy Sky Father,” Farrell said, slowly lowering one leg and then the other to kneel before the image of Honorus, first of the gods. “How may I serve you?”

  “Rise, favored son. Your labors in My service have earned you the right to stand tall before Me.”

  Farrell stood and took a quick breath. The force of an avatar’s voice in his mind always unnerved him. He sought some measure of calm in the pale blue eyes of his god.

  “My Sister, Lenore, has need of you. She will send Her servant, who will explain what is required. Her need is great, and, loath though I am to ask you to suspend your work here, I believe this will ultimately aid you in the fight with Meglar. I ask that you accompany Her servant and render such aid as you may.”

  Farrell bowed his head once in acknowledgment. “Master, whatever assistance I may give, I shall. Can I know the nature of the aid they require? And how will I know Her messenger?”

  Did he see amusement in the avatar’s eyes? Could an avatar even be amused? “You will be told of your task by Her servant, and you will know Her servant on sight.”

  “I hear Your words, Lord, and will serve Your Sister to the best of my abilities.”

  “I expect no less of you, my son.” The white eagle began to fade, adding, “Know this, Farrell. On this quest you will find your mate among those who serve Lenore. Be not afraid to embrace love even in these trying times. Strength can be found in the love of another. Do not maintain the walls you built to shelter yourself from hurt. The union between you and My Sister’s servant will grant you strength in the difficult tasks that await you both. Consider it My gift for your unswerving devotion to Me and the arduous path I set you on. My blessings on you and your labors.” With that, Honorus vanished, leaving Farrell to mull His words.

  Before he could digest what had happened, detection spells warned him that someone approached. Thoughts of avatars and a life partner vanished as years of training spurred him to action. Peering across the almost-empty prairie, Farrell instinctively gathered power.

  Still some distance away, a mount galloped hard toward his position. Flat, treeless, and magically kept free of tall grass and scrub, Gharaha offered little cover for any who made their way through the hidden, guarded pass. Yet the rider had made it more than halfway across the plains already. Why hadn’t the spells worked properl
y?

  Farrell scanned the prairie, using magic to be sure only one horse rode toward him. He focused on the solitary figure. Closer—impossibly closer, he realized.

  “Could it be?” he whispered to the cold stones beside him. Enhancing his sight again, he confirmed his suspicions—no rider. A smile stretched his cheeks. Beyond any doubt, Lenore’s messenger had arrived.

  Having fought Meglar his whole adult life, he readied a defensive spell out of habit. Exhaling, he let the power drain away. One did not greet Lenore’s messenger with aggression unless he fancied the wrath of the goddess. He shook his head. Not particularly. And Honorus had been clear: Lenore wanted—no, required—his help to fight Meglar.

  Ignoring how naked he felt, he breathed deeply, noting how fast the mount closed the still-considerable distance between them. Surely he had time to go inside to alert his staff?

  Checking again, he decided he might not. No, better to wait.

  A unicorn. He studied it as it galloped toward him. Brilliant green eyes and pink, flaring nostrils with a pure white coat shining softly, as if the unicorn had just completed a light morning run. How incredible.

  He lost track of how long he stared, but when he blinked the messenger had nearly reached him. Definitely a good thing I stayed, he decided.

  With a grace belying its speed, the unicorn charged up to him. For a moment he wondered if it would race past him in a whizzing blur, but it halted an arm’s length from him.

  “Wizard.” The voice in his mind was definitely feminine and less overpowering than the avatar’s. “Blessings from Her holiness, Lenore. The Blessed Mother sends Her regards to the Prince of Haven and seeks your assistance.”

  He almost laughed. Who in the Eight Gates of Neblor dared speak for the Goddess of the Earth? But he caught himself in time; Lenore had a special bond with unicorns.

  “Honorus’s blessings to you as well, Unicorn.” Not knowing her name, he addressed her in the same way she greeted him. “Welcome to Haven. Honorus told me to aid you and your mistress, though I don’t know what assistance you require.”

  She pawed the ground and tossed her head slightly, reminding him of a petulant child. Farrell bit down on his tongue to suppress a chuckle.

  “I already stated that Lenore requires your assistance. I have been sent to bear you to where you are needed.”

  He jerked back at her curt tone and searched for the proper response. Of course he’d go with Lenore’s messenger, but did she expect him to simply hop on her back and be off? Beyond needing to be prepared for a fight, arrangements needed to be made for governing Haven in his absence. His mind raced through the myriad of things he needed to handle before he could leave.

  “Forgive me if I offend you,” he said carefully and he hoped with the right amount of politeness, “but I’m at a disadvantage on many levels. To start, you know who I am, but I don’t know your name.”

  “My name is Nerti, Wizard.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Nerti. Can you tell me anything more than Lenore has summoned me? I’m certain if She took the time to send one so noble as you to fetch me, Her need must be great. I hope I’m sufficient to Her task.”

  “Meglar has attacked us. My sisters and brothers have sought aid from all we can trust and have assembled at the mountain fortress that is my home. Unfortunately, there are no great wizards among our ranks. Nor do our allies, the Muchari, produce wizards among their kind with any regularity. Thus we are forced to seek your assistance.”

  “Muchari? If I were not speaking with a unicorn, I would say they’re nothing more than legends.”

  “Wizard, there is no time for idle banter. Meglar has assembled an army, and though Muchari are indeed formidable warriors, we are hopelessly outnumbered. What wizards we have are mostly old humans who sought out the Muchari to spend their last days in peace. They will not be able to withstand all that Meglar’s army throws at them in their attempt to capture our home. We require your skill.”

  “I understand,” Farrell said absently. A dozen thoughts sought attention at once as he tried to digest all the information thrown at him. Nerti clearly wanted to leave immediately, but he needed some time. Better to delay a few minutes than race off unprepared. “Actually, I don’t understand. I have no army ready to march from Haven and liberate your people. If, as you say, you are hopelessly outnumbered, I won’t tilt the scales in your favor.”

  “We do not hope to defeat Meglar’s army, only survive long enough to escape to another safe home. As I said, Muchari count few wizards amongst their number, and those who have the gift are rarely above the lowest grades. My sisters and brothers have no ability to manipulate magic, though we are made of it. We need your help moving everyone to a safer place. The wizards who reside with us are too few to protect the city for long and open our passage.”

  That clarified things. Honorus didn’t need him to fight an entire army, just protect the city long enough for everyone to escape. Right, so much easier.

  “Very well, now I understand. Unfortunately, I can’t open a Door to a place I’ve never been. We’re going to have to ride there, unless you’re able to supply me with a clear image of your home.”

  “Wizard, it isn’t that easy,” Nerti said. “Northhelm is not accessible via magic Doors unless—and here I rely on the wizards’ words to explain it to you—unless you have been granted permission to bypass the city’s protections. I was told you would understand.”

  “Unfortunately, it means we must ride to Northhelm,” Farrell said. “Had Lenore sent someone attuned to your city’s protections, I could open a Door from here to there. Wizards are taught that no one, no matter how strong, can override a sealing spell once engaged. I disagree but haven’t tested my theory yet. If I’m wrong, I’ll end up stuck between this moment and the next.”

  “Wizard!” Her mental yell snapped his head around. The piercing green eyes that looked so ancient and wise suddenly seemed closer together and less friendly. “We have no time for you to daydream!”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “How exactly do we get into your city if it’s already besieged by Meglar? Do you know of another connected Door somewhere?”

  She dashed his slim hope of good news when she shook her head.

  “The only way to reach the city is to fight our way in. Your skill and my speed will have to suffice to gain us entrance. The Blessed Mother said you were equal to the task.”

  “Somehow I had a feeling you’d say that.” He tried to formulate a plan, but he had more questions than answers: the size of Meglar’s army, the distance to the fortress, the number of weapons he’d need, Nerti’s speed and stamina. He shook his head to clear his mind. “I need to collect some things before we set off. If we’re to fight our way in, I need to be prepared.”

  Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on her to stare at the hidden gates that marked the entrance to Haven. A frown wrinkled his face.

  “Nerti, we need to use a Door to reach my workroom. Going through the front gate, we’ll draw too much attention. But using a Door will cause my mentors, Masters Erstad and Wesfazial, to investigate what’s happening. I’m certain they’ll attempt to convince me not to ride off alone.”

  “You will not be alone, Wizard.” Her casual tone almost brought a smile to his face. Clearly, she did not lack for confidence.

  “That said, are you able to use a Door?”

  “I neither affect a Door nor am I affected by one, if that is what you ask.”

  “It is.” Satisfied, he reached out his left hand. A long black staff, capped on both ends in platinum and cuffed with several silver bands, flew from its perch against the monolith to the left. Farrell always carried this staff into a fight. The sound of wood on flesh broke the silence of the plains.

  Speaking softly, he touched one end to the ground and moved it upward. A pale blue-green trail of light remained where the black wood passed. When it reached seven feet above the ground, he paused for a heartbeat. Four feet to t
he right, another pause. Finally he brought the staff down, holding it in place on the dusty plains.

  Once he drew the outline, he stretched his right hand into the space between the lines and pushed forward with his will. A burst of light filled the area he’d just marked off. When the flash dissipated, a room lined with shelves and tables replaced the view of grass and mountains. Without a word, he stepped forward, followed closely by Nerti. When both cleared the threshold of the Door, Farrell waved his hand absently behind him. The light seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving the pair alone in the semidark room.

  Another distracted wave and light slowly filled the workspace.

  “I suspect we’ll have company in a few moments,” he said.

  Nerti remained nearly motionless in the small, crowded room. Moving with a purpose, Farrell began to collect things he might need for the trip: a half dozen silver bracelets filled with energy; a bow and quiver of enchanted arrows; wands in different shapes and sizes; a long stake with a large mushroom-shaped head; a belt with throwing knives, each worked with a spell to ensure accuracy; and a dozen small stones that expanded when thrown at an enemy formation.

  After walking across to the far side of the room, he opened a metal cabinet, only to have numerous items tumble out. As he collected a set of six smooth two-foot staves from the floor, the door to the room swung open, nearly hitting him in the head.

  As he expected, his mentors entered his workroom. The anticipated barrage of questions, however, never materialized. Standing up, he noted the two older wizards staring at Nerti.

  “Blessings of Lenore,” the leaner of the two said. To Farrell’s eye, the older man appeared stunned. “White Lady, how do I address you?”

  “Her name is Nerti, Erstad.”

  Turning his head as if he only just noticed Farrell, Erstad appeared unsure whom to address.

  “It appears Honorus has loaned my services to Lenore,” Farrell said, using their silence to his advantage. “Nerti has been sent to bear me where I’m needed.”