Sviska took the shell and placed it in his pocket. Kealin knew more than Knasgriff and yet had been around them less time.
The half-elf turned toward the east and said, "Night is coming and I must converse with the sea once again. I bid you well."
As he began to walk away, Sviska felt his robes. The Galhedriss Arcana was safe, and the half-elf knew of the supposed secret he and his companions hid. He hoped no one else knew of its existence.
Kealin stopped and turned to him,answering Sviska’s unspoken thoughts, "If you wonder of whom else knows, trust only that I know of your treasures in this region. But others will and do seek you." He turned and vanished out of sight as he leapt from the path toward the waters below.
Sviska leaned over the edge of the long house, but the waters of the sea roiled, and any sight of Kealin vanished.
He walked down to the lower level and back into the Great Hall, where the Chieftain, Garoa, Slats, and Berie were sitting around the table beginning to eat.
"We saved you a seat," Garoa said.
Sviska took the open spot near Slats and set down to a bowl of fish stew and baked bread.
"I just got the mill working again and after getting some smashed wheat, I had the baker make up a fresh loaf for us tonight!" Knasgriff exclaimed.
He smiled as he chomped down on a piece, dunking the remainders in the stew before swallowing them down. With a mouth full of food he looked up and asked Sviska, "I believe you were talking to Kealin, am I correct?"
"He had asked me to step out with him. Seems he had to go suddenly, seeing that he leapt from atop the hall into the water."
"Yes, yes," Knasgriff replied. "He does things of that nature. He pushes himself harder than others do. I do not know if it is the elven blood or his will alone that does it. There are many stories of his origins, but in truth, none know where he comes from. He supposedly can calm the maelstroms of the Glacier Seas with a single command. I have, however, never attempted to find that out for myself. We here call him friend, and as of late, he has been here more."
"He is half-elf, but what of his other half and of his speech?" Berie asked.
"I do not know of his other half. I do not ask such questions to a man such as him. Of his speech, he may talk at times as a drunkard or one without knowledge, but it is a secret he keeps to himself and I dare not question him. Do not be distracted by it and do not try to hide something from Kealin. The power of his mind is useful both in dagger work and conversation alike."
"What was going on earlier? He brought a bag in and, well, you were a bit secretive," Garoa said.
"I feel I can trust you, given the events thus far. You know the state of things as we have presented them. If an attack was to come from the Legion, there is reasons to believe we would be first. Thus, we have worked on weapons for our defense. In the far north a forge has been found."
Knasgriff stood, walked to the doorway, and lowered the latch. Outside ears now could not hear into the hall.
"Kealin found it. He spends time searching for relics of old and upon finding this, he deciphered that the runes were of dwarvish design. Little by little, we were able to sneak supplies to the island and began firing it up on foggy nights. Ore has been an issue and having enough for the refining process has been thus far difficult. Yet, the Island nation has worked to scour the region searching for materials. Kealin found shells of particular hardness and thus had created spears and even an ax. By using what stone and shell we have, a number of weapons have been manufactured and hidden."
"But the Legion is more than a few soldiers,” Garoa said, crossing his arms. “A single Legion is around 5,000 men. If only one was to attack the village, it would do very little good to have mere spears to throw at them."
"We are not mere land fighters, as other people may be,” Knasgriff advised. “The Island Nation is more adept at fighting from ships than we are group formations. What we lack, however, is a fleet. The Legion patrols have made such things difficult for us to hide, but still not impossible. But the time is not right; the other Chieftains do not wish for war, as do those of us along the outer islands."
"Makes sense," Slats said. "You will be taken first, like the edge of a cake put in front of me."
There was a quieted laugh amongst the group. The chieftain paced beside the fire.
"I shall go tomorrow to meet with the others and I bid you all to come with me. Perhaps you were to come here to assist us," he said.
Berie tapped her fingers on the table and then sighed, "We have more to do besides prevent a war that was brooding before we were here. It seems, Chieftain, that you are preparing for something greater than even you understand."
"Are we not also?" Sviska asked.
"We need to be careful of all. A war will not serve us well."
"The elf has a point," Garoa said. "The elves and dwarves fought longer and harder than any of the world of men, and even the Rusis went into hiding. Men did nothing for those like us."
Knasgriff grimaced. Garoa’s words angered him. He shook his head as he stomped toward them.
"And the Island Nation was the first to respond for the call for help when the dwarves of the southern mountains went into open war! It was not Lokam, or the Taria Region, it was the ships of Kersa, of Lunis, of Ukka. Our people died with the elves and the dwarves. When word was received that a trap had been set for the great host heading north through Taria, we sailed south and assaulted the Legions chasing after those moving in the shroud. If it was not for our blood, they would have all been massacred."
"That was you?" asked Berie, her eyes filled with tears at his words.
"That was the Island Nation. You say we are preparing for something we do not understand. We understand war. If it were not for us, you would not even be here to discuss it. Do you think your bow has only ever protected elven lands? That bow is a legend amongst us! It is said a beast arose from the sea, as it reached onto the land the Bow of the Elves was drawn from atop the very temple we gather in upon the mainland. The creature was struck back to the sea before its horror could be unleashed upon our people!"
Knasgriff then became quiet, turning his back to the others. In a low voice, almost as if a depressed man, he began again.
"I have seen the people dragged from their homes. At first only men, but now children. We have lost our zeal for war and maybe we are not strong enough to face the Grand Protectorate, but I will continue to ride into the night to try to stop any more of my people being snatched up like wild animals. For what purpose the enemy has, I cannot see, but I need you four. I need you to inspire the others."
Berie stared toward the man, his form sunken and his shadow from the fire dripping tears. The children of the Estate in Elinathrond returned to her mind, and in the faces of the memory in her mind, she felt sorrow.
The elf knelt before Knasgriff and said, "I have been wrong in words, Chieftain. It is true: had those of the Island Nation not come, many more of our people would have died.”
Slats came alongside Berie. “I was there, too,” he said, “and though I try not to remember some of it, I do remember the ships that night. It was the last we saw of the lands outside of Elinathrond. I will accompany you as you wish."
"Thank you," he said to them, reaching down, "but do not kneel. Enough have been brought to their knees as of late."
She stood and Knasgriff looked to Sviska. "You two will join me in the morning. Garoa and Slats, you may come also if you wish, but do not feel obligated."
"Slats and I will join," Garoa said, speaking for the both of them.
Slats scrunched his shoulders and said, "It works for me."
Knasgriff nodded. "Very well. At first light we will go. I bid you goodnight."
He left without another word, opening the latch of the hall before he disappeared to his sleeping quarters.
"It is what we need to do,” Sviska said. “Kealin spoke with me of traveling to the far north, a place of the gods.”
“Then the ha
lf-elf must know more than he speaks?” Berie asked.
“I see no other to trust in such paths,” Sviska replied.
"I know it just seems strange. Are we sure it is what we are to do?"
"With no magic and no other direction from the gods? Seems good enough," Garoa said. "What else are we to do, eat fish stew and be done with it?"
"Bluckers not!" Slats moaned.
The night was peaking quickly at the hour Slats and Sviska laid down to sleep. Berie and Garoa stepped outside and began to walk from the hall. Down the plank walkway and to the ramp leading to the second level, the followed it on, coming at last to the third level and the docks under the city.
Salty air and the smell of fish permeated their noses. The waves smacked the docks and both of them stared at the dark waters. The metal gateway shut tight along the edge of the wall did not keep a certain person from swimming through it. Garoa nearly fell off the other side of the dock in surprise as Kealin pulled himself up onto the dock.
"Hello, my friends," said Kealin. "A nice night dat youse want to be by the waters."
"Are you half elf or mermaid?" Garoa asked, still catching his breath.
"No mermaid! I am not mer nor a maid, however tricky beasts they are now. Been near them in the past 100 years, quite voracious as of late, or so the fish say!"
"Thank you for earlier," Berie told him.
"What? For not slicing your pretty hair with my daggers? I would not dare! I do not draw blood from such creatures so rare. Rusis, perhaps you can leave me and my half kin alone for a while?"
Garoa shook his head. "Well, um?" He looked to Berie.
"Go on," she said, squinting her eyes at him. "Besides, I will cut off his hair if he tries anything."
Kealin rubbed his twisted seashell-encrusted hair. "Perhaps I would rather talk to you," he joked, looking at Garoa.
"Well friend, you have fun!"
Garoa left them and walked back toward the great hall.
Berie stared in the water and asked, "You are half elf?"
"Not so loud now my dear. Cannot have the peoples hearing such things. But yes, but to my question to you, how is it you escaped The Order's wrath?"
"Why do you ask me such things?" she asked.
"It is a curiosity. The curse is gone and it has been for some time at least in some places. I have wondered long of others of magic, and rumors of that city have been in existence many years. I had a friend once that went there. Besides, I seek the path to magic in the world and have so far been without."
"Why do you need magic? It seems you have what you need in the sea."
He scratched his chin, "Well yes, I do. But I will find more when magical seals are broken. I explore old things and seek out the lost. I could travel south, but I must leave my beloved water to do so. Not an easy choice."
"I do not know of magic or how to obtain it. I believe magic is all gone."
"I do not think so," Kealin said, "Der has to be some somewhere."
Berie was tiring of the conversation and noticed an odd gleam in Kealin's eye. She could not tell, but his speech changed and a strange cloudiness came into the white of his eyes. She questioned what power he had and what Knasgriff had spoken of earlier.
"I am tired and need rest," she told him.
"Very well, go sleep and do well with your journey tomorrow." His eyes were again clear.
She stood and began back up the ramps, wondering how Kealin knew of the journey. The hall was sealed when they spoke of it.
It was at that moment she remembered Elinathrond and the words Brethor had spoken to The Order in his final moments. Brethor had known of Kealin. Perhaps the Lord of the Estate was the friend Kealin mentioned.
Chapter 4 Many Chieftains
The morning came fast and the assembly of the four, beside the embers of the dying fire, smiled to one another as the servant brought in fresh wood, placing log after log on the embers. Flames birthed around the dry wood with a crackling sound.
"I wanted to mention,” Sviska began, “that the name Kealin is what we heard Brethor speak of the last night in Elinathrond.”
"Are you sure?" Garoa asked.
"I had thought I had heard his name. It was of whom he spoke to The Order," Berie said, “He spoke to me before sleep of a friend who went to Elinathrond.”
Sviska nodded. “Last night he told me he knew of what we carried, the Galhedriss Arcana. He didn’t say the name, but he knew enough.”
"Do you think Brethor knew he was alive?" Garoa asked.
Berie shrugged and sighed, then said, "I do not know, but if he is friend of Brethor, we can trust him more than I feel anyone else."
"I can agree with that," Slats said.
Sviska thumbed the shell given to him by Kealin and said, “I believe our path will take us with him.”
Knasgriff emerged from his quarters just as the fire caught the new logs in earnest. He spoke nothing, other than a faint grunt, and hurried them outside. The Chieftain of Kersa was not keen on early mornings.
Proceeding down to the dock level in a single line behind him, they followed twisting wooden platforms until at last they ran into a passage of stone before the entering another area of the dock level. A large ship, much larger than any fishing boat, enamored with yellow flags and the emblem of the bear awaited them. The sails were up and deckhands stood tall as they boarded.
In mere moments after boarding, the ship lurched forward. The large gates of the city docks opened before them, and they made way. The flagship of the village of Kersa was only a glimpse of what used to make up the fleets of the Island Nation.
"Upon a time, it was not uncommon to see ships of this size, and by our devices we hope to procure more before war." Knasgriff said. "We were allowed to keep the Chieftain vessels at the surrender of the Island Nation, a small show of confidence, or to more easily note us if they sought our death. I will let you four decide which one you think is more likely."
"So you surrendered?" Slats asked.
"In more words than that, yes. We disbanded our armies and sunk our ships in exchange for us to retain fealty to ourselves. There have been struggles between the the islands of the Island Nation since, and we have fought ourselves, but it is unity the Grand Protec . . . or Order, as you know it, of course, fears."
“So there are only five other ships?” Slats asked.
“Yes, other than fishing vessels, but none of those compare to the these ships. We call them the High Ships. At the pinnacle of power for our islands there were many. Most of the inner workings were fashioned by dwarves. I am surprised you have not heard of them, dear dwarf.”
“Many dwarves in the world, sir, or at least there were.”
Sailing for over an hour, the sun shined above them and the white capped waters were not as angry as two nights ago. They passed many fair-sized islands, but a smaller one was now the focus of their course.
"Although five ruling heads make up our peoples, we are all somewhat similar. Many islands make up this region, but most are inhabited by only a few families, with the exception of our chief villages."
"What will be their opinion of us, do you think?" Garoa asked.
"We will see,” Knasgriff replied.
The ship turned into a narrow firth. The clear waters parted as slender-hulled vessel broke water upon the shorelines. Along a barren bank flanked with bluffs on all sides, there was a sandy beach. Other ships, similar to the ship they were on, lined the shore. The helmsman turned them toward land, and they made up the fifth vessel to come to rest along the shore.
Disembarking, they walked together up to an assembled group of people on the shoreline. A female with a banner flying above her with an orange flag with a red half circle at the bottom of the flag met them. She was younger than the chieftain with blond hair that hung down near her waist. Leather stitching went up her legs and a large knife was at her hip. A black coat hid her chest, with belts across her stomach and another three knives tucked into the belts.
> "Knasgriff, we have been waiting for you. We had thought that perhaps our message was lost to you," she said, and embraced him.
He gave a large smile and said, "Tvila! Good to see you! And how is it upon the shores of Bovika?"
The other chieftains formed a half moon around them. It was clear to Sviska that their presence was not only unexpected, but concerning to their onlookers.
"Knasgriff, it seems your normal accompaniment of guards is different this time."
The man was tall and girded in red, which matched his flag. An emblem of a seabird was on the ring on his left hand.
"Why yes, Maerin, I bring news from the west," he told him, "News that should be of importance to us."
Tvila nodded and said, "As well do I. My shipwrights have finished eight new vessels, and they have remained hidden and safe."
"We also have news," said a taller man. He had a deep black mustache and a partial beard that was half the length of Slats’s beard. His arms bulged from his black tunic. Above him, a black flag with a bloody ax furled in the wind. The others with him were also large, more so than anyone else standing on the shore.
"The People of Ukka have continued working with those of Kersa. The dwarvish forge has produced for us many weapons. The shell-based weapons are lighter, but just as strong as iron-based. We near capacity to arm our warriors."
"Very good, Ruir," Knasgriff said and smiled. "We now wait for your people, Maerin, as well as those of New Srun."
A grey-haired man, who was sitting on a stool, struggled to his feet. His attendants assisted him.
Knasgriff said, "Colui, your city was once the strongest in the entire island nation. Have you prepared for the war?"
The older chieftain closed his eyes and rubbed his hands together. "I wish not for more war in my time."
"And well he shouldn't," Maerin said. "War brings more suffering and loss."
"You talk of loss?" Tvila countered. "Loss? My people have been asked to provide three times the fish as before to the Grand Protectorate."
Saints of Wura: Winemaker of the North, Arcane Awakening, Reckoning in the Void (Saints of Wura Books 1-3 with bonus content) Page 30
