Saints of Wura: Winemaker of the North, Arcane Awakening, Reckoning in the Void (Saints of Wura Books 1-3 with bonus content)

by J. T. Williams

  "Your problems of the east do not concern me," he replied.

  "And what does?" Ruir asked. "Perhaps we will burn your village first. Sounds like it would be the start to a well-needed war."

  "Mind yourself, you brute. The only thing you ever wish is war. But your numbers are less than half of mine."

  “I need less than half still to deal with your petty men!”

  Ruir began to stomp toward Maerin. Maerin’s men swarmed around him, and Ruir’s did not halt their advance. Knasgriff stepped between them.

  "And that is why we need to work together. Maerin, your forces more than make up what both Ruir and I can provide. You have been against war, but I understand you, yourself, have dealt with forced conscription into the Legions."

  The two groups of men looked away from one another.

  "Conscription? How do you conscript a 4-year-old child?" Tvila questioned. "Raids in the night have robbed many families of their children. Over the last month I have been a common stop for the Grand Protectorate slave ships."

  "Slaves?" Maerin asked, shaking his head, "Hardly. The life of a legionnaire is peaceful in these times. Those of the cities of the south live in comfort. There are no slaves ships, only trade vessels that get rowdy in their journeys. Perhaps you are too sensitive. The early morning sun makes you first to wake and you feel a bit tired. Take a nap, child, while the elders discuss things further."

  "War is upon us," Knasgriff said, “We are on the brink of loosing more than are meeting place. We have this meeting now because we must. If we are not united in our attack we will not fair well.”

  "There is no war yet, save the war you brew here," Colui said.

  Berie had begun to pace near the rear of the group, and hearing the last had made it impossible for her to hold her tongue any further.

  "Listen!" she shouted.

  Sviska, Garoa, and Slats turned to her. Sviska himself had been at a loss of what to say, if speaking was even appropriate. The chieftains did not expect Berie's sudden interjection. They stared at her, eyes blinking, speechless to her demand to be heard.

  "Debating if war will come is senseless. It is now within you. Chieftain Maerin, war has already come for us. Our home was decimated, with no surrender offered. What little remained of my family is now gone."

  She threw back her hood, showing her ears.

  There was a gasp from some within the group. There was continued silence, each of them staring at her.

  "I am an elf, yes."

  Tvila approached, staring at Berie, and said, "Your kind still exist? I had thought the elves’ fall was long ago.”

  "Aye, the dwarves yet breathe, too!" Slats added.

  "So a dwarf and an elf?" Colui asked.

  "Yes,” Knasgriff said.

  "And what of the other two?" Maerin said, his eyes scanning them.

  Knasgriff motioned for Sviska and Garoa to come forward.

  "Sviska of the south is a companion to the others, and this is Garoa, a Rusis."

  "Rusis?" Tvila asked, "Magic casters?"

  "Conjurer, caster. Keeper of rare animals of most recent," he said. Garoa and Sviska shared a glance and a wry smile.

  Ruir grunted, "Magic is gone. It ended after memory sickness wiped out those of magic. How does this happen? How do you have them with you?"

  "We wrecked," Sviska said. "The storms from a few nights ago sent us into the shores of Kersa."

  "And from where did your ship leave?" Maerin questioned.

  "The shores of the north. We are of the city of Elinathrond."

  "That place is a myth,” Maerin laughed, “Knasgriff you bring people that tell us of made up stories?”

  "No, it is no myth. But it is no more than burning rubble now.," Berie said. “The Grand Protectorate, by the hand of the First Legion, attacked it."

  "My spies have affirmed that the First Legion marched from Lokam headed toward Taria," Knasgriff added.

  "That makes sense. Most of their fleet, if you could call it that, has been watching us. They would have to march over land as opposed to taking to the sea,” Tvila said. "Although, they have been drifting west more of late."

  "No doubt looking for you four." Maerin said, pointing at them. "I do not see why some washed out cultural vomit has anything to do with our affairs."

  "I have no respect for magic,” Ruir said. "A cold, sharp weapon is more reliable."

  "I, for one, disagree,” Garoa said, "but as of now, magic is no more. And for that a good weapon would do us all good."

  Knasgriff stretched out his hands to the others and said, "We know the gods of the sea and air have long blessed us with fish and good winds. May they now bless these with assistance? I affirm that these four shall make the journey north to the Glacial Sea and to the Mouth of the North Winds."

  "Another fable," Maerin squeaked.

  "With the same truth as your last statement of myth," he replied. "We have continued to offer thanks to the gods, even though they have left us. I do not believe it to be an accident that these four have come to us now."

  "Kealin has told me he wishes for us to go there with him," Sviska said.

  "Kealin has returned?" Tvila asked.

  "Yes, he had been with us at the forge," Ruir said. "He found it in the ice, mined it from the glacial prison of time, and lit the fires of dwarven coals. They burn bright now, and weapons are made in the shroud of the foggy seas."

  Knasgriff nodded and said, “Kealin Half-Elf has returned as further proof that it was a curse and an intentional plot by The Order. We believe the Grand Protectorate has weakened. You all know the rumors of what is held at Lokam."

  "The war god is a deity of the land peoples, not of us," Maerin said. “Still, we speak much of fables.”

  "Just because you stay in your boats doesn't mean the Ukka do not regard the blessing of Kel as we jump from ours!" Ruir yelled.

  "The war god being at Lokam, be it true or not, is not the matter as of now. We all swear fealty to the old gods and, thus, should help these four in any way we can. They in turn will help us, is that right?"

  The Chieftains of the Island Nation glared toward Knasgriff and his group of outsiders. Knasgriff had placed the other chieftains in an odd position. The four stared at one another; Garoa placed his hands on his hips, saying nothing. Sviska pondered the best path forward, but felt as lost as did the others. He was wary, but it seemed that such an alliance would be useful for all.

  He nodded his head and said, "Be it the will of the gods, we will help you."

  The others nodded and a silence fell upon all of them. The wind blew through the cove, and the ships in the water rocked with the gusts.

  Ruir pointed at them and said, "We still must prepare for war. Perhaps, they can help?”

  "I agree, but their help to us will not be in the way you think. If they can somehow return magic, I am sure we will have an advantage over any number of the Legions," Tvila said.

  "Four people are not an advantage," Maerin stated.

  "Perhaps not," Colui said, "but they would inspire people. Perhaps the others of the southern lands."

  "It seems the Chieftain of New Srun has made a joke," Tvila said.

  "He has a point," Knasgriff said. "If others see us rebel, it is a way that makes sense. With magic on our side, others will join. We are not the only ones that have suffered at the hand of the Grand Protectorate."

  "Even so," Maerin warned, "I find putting our fate in such peoples distasteful, at the least. None of us deny that the Legion has troubled us, but war, I feel, is still not the answer."

  "We have been an island nation," Knasgriff said, "and with a vote decide things, even with the Grand Protectorate banning are meetings out of fear. Our place of gathering lies abandoned on the mainland, but I hope soon we will return to it, as did our ancestors. If you continue to think as a lone island, we will lack your numbers, but we will not stop, Maerin. The people of Lunis must not all doubt as you do. I bid you see a sight which saved us before and w
ill be wielded in the fight with us. Berie show them."

  She knew what he meant without thinking. Whether the story of the creature emerging from the seas was true or not, the elf drew out the bow of her people.

  There was an odd feeling in the air. An unknown warmness that the gathered chieftains felt that none of the Saints could. The stories of old had told them of the Bow of the Elves, and the protection once given to them returned to their minds. Now to see the bow before them, in the hand of the last elf of the land, there was a renewed vigor and wanting amongst them.

  "The people of Bovika commit in honor of the old ways," Tvila whispered.

  The stout man Ukka drew a small knife and cut his hand, throwing the blood on the ground before the Saints of Wura.

  "I, Ruir of the Ukka, commit to honor the old ways. We are ready to fight regardless of any help, be it magic or not."

  He nodded to Garoa.

  The older man of New Srun stood up slowly, pushing away the assistance of his men. "I, Colui, though I do not seek war, agree on these four as having importance, and thus will follow their lead, even if the path leads to unfriendly happenings.”

  Maerin gave a small laugh, shook his head, and said, "Sure, we will agree. But know we remain in protest of such paths. I do not desire to stop the Legions. They do no wrong to us, and I pray you all will see that a few minor incidents do not force our hands in such a way before our actions go too far."

  Knasgriff looked away from Maerin and then back to the Saints, "Then it is decided. You will go north and seek what wisdom be there. Once you have learned what knowledge is needed we can discuss further steps."

  There was a bow between the Chieftains. It seemed the council ended just as it had begun. A few more laughs and quick words proceeded each farewell before the leaders returned to the ships.

  "Garoa," Tvila called.

  Garoa looked to the woman.

  "Be careful up north. I would hate for some ice to scratch up that face of yours before I get to."

  Sviska raised an eyebrow as the chieftain went to her own ship. Sviska smirked as Garoa approached him.

  "Just met someone and already wooing her?" he asked him.

  Garoa shook his head and said, "It is not so and do not speak of it.” He held a stoic stare and continued, "I do not seek love anymore. I cannot. I was wrong to hint a smile toward her. I have not been without love in my life, but every day I feel that life is further from me, and I hate it. I despise that I was forced away and I do not forgive myself for I should have stayed and risked the curse."

  Sviska followed him onto the ship. It was clear Garoa was not in the mood for conversation of any kind and this was the first Sviska had noticed the Rusis’ disdain for such topics.

  The sails lifted into the air and, one by one, the ships took turn leaving the cove. At last, the ship of Kersa brought up the rear. Making it to the mouth of the firth and open sea, the sails ruffled and pulled the ship forward. The wind caught and blew them into open waters.

  “Our peoples have always been proud,” Knasgriff told Sviska. “A deep pride that has caused us to rally to fight outsiders just as quick as one another. In times before that, the dwarves indeed blessed us with such novelties as the High Ship you stand upon, but we are not the numbers and the terrors upon the Grand Protectorate we once were.”

  “Numbers can be folly when the men are right,” Sviska told him. “The Legions are many, but you cannot think open-field fighting to be your aim.”

  “It is not. But I fear division may strike us down before the blades of our enemies. The unification felt at Srun was but one last hint of what we once were. The great city, long-swept to the sea, the hall and keep with its crumbling walls, reminds each of us of time before. I hope to honor those halls in time, and rebuild Srun to greatness.” Knasgriff looked down, gripped the hilt of his sword, and said, “Of many things we wish in times that come upon us.”

  He looked back Sviska and said, “I have hope for your presence, all of you, though I do not know yet what it means for us.”

  A fog was in the air. The ship of Bovika had turned southeast, and catching a good wind they moved quickly. Sviska watched as the fog billows rolled over the water. He was just about to turn to speak to Berie when he caught view of something moving in the fogs behind the ship of Bovika.

  He stared through the white caps of the surf. He discerned not one, but two shapes moving through the fog.

  "Knasgriff, look toward the Bovika vessel!"

  Knasgriff looked and shook his head. He ran to the left side of ship. A large horn with a silver mouthpiece mounted on the deck of the ship lay waiting for him. With pursed lips, he blew into the horn, an echoing sound causing the other chieftains to take notice, the Ukka and New Srun replying with two short bursts.

  The ship of Bovika had made a single sound but it was hurried and faint. The billowing fog now obscured the vessel.

  "The oars! The oars!" Knasgriff shouted.

  The men on the boat reached into compartments near the ship’s edge, pulling long oars from their storage space. The ship had long not needed to worry of its speed, but today had played out differently.

  “That is no ship of the Islands,” he told them.

  Garoa, Sviska, and Slats also took position at the oars, as Berie stood at the bow of the ship. An arrow waited resting on her bow.

  Across the water, the other ships stroked through the water. Ruir was at the bow of his ship, a large war hammer in hand. He shook it above his head, shouting as he did. Those of New Srun and Lunis were behind, their oars not placed. They were quickly falling behind the ships in pursuit of Bovika.

  They had entered the fog. Shouting and sounds of clanging metal rang across the water. With great momentum, the ship moved blindly into an unknown. The oar men stopped. The ship coasted along, as the sounds grew louder.

  A definite shape emerged from the fog. It was a large ship, and atop it, men threw spears in the opposite direction. Berie drew an arrow to her cheek and caught the first of four men in the chest.

  He fell off the ship and struck the water.

  Another arrow flew to its mark, that one catching the attention of the other two remaining spear tossers. Before a shout could come from either, the elf loosed two more arrows, each silencing its target. They made it around the ship to find the ship of the Bovika swarming with soldiers wearing brown tunics. These were no warriors of the Legions.

  The High Ship of Ukka was just behind that of Kersa. Sviska drew his dagger and leaped onto the Bovika vessel before it was even near enough for another person to follow him aboard.

  He ran forward, slicing two men from behind across the sides of their necks. Blood splashed the well-polished deck.

  A third man caught sight of him. The man lunged and missed Sviska by just an extra hand length. Sviska took advantage of his folly, driving Sishan into his ribs with a cracking song.

  Tvila shouted from behind him, "Sviska, I’m happy you have come to help!"

  The others had arrived now, and in between the shouts of Ukka men and the roar of the chieftain, the arrows of Berie landed surgically between warriors of each nation.

  A loud horn called, and the attackers withdrew, leaping to their ship as they cut away their hold on the Bovika vessel. A cheer erupted amongst the defenders as the ships lurched away, heading into the fogs. Shouting followed the retreat of the enemy.

  "Pursue them!"

  "Let’s show them!”

  "We cannot," Tvila replied. "We lack the force to take on a ship and it is too risky as of now. But do not fear — you will have your fight in time!"

  The ships of New Srun and Lunis had arrived at last. Maerin and Colui both stared at the sight upon the bow of the ship of Bovika.

  Bodies of the attackers, as well as defenders, littered the ship. Those bodies of the Bovika were to be honored, and so were gathered away from their attackers. Those of the enemy were to become food for the sea.

  A slightly out of breath Tvila to
ok her dagger back from the neck that had stolen it for a time and wiped the blood on the shirt of her victim.

  "What Legion is this?" Slats asked.

  The dwarf had noticed a tattoo on the hand of one of the brown robed men. Once again, they spotted the image of the red trident.

  "I know not that mark," Ruir offered. "He is no man of the island regions.”

  Tvila shook her head and said, "Those were no Legion vessels. It had tasteful curvatures, adornments. Although I know no other sea faring people like ourselves, something else is at work here. These men had heart only while they kept their advantage. Their force was small, limited. I think that money was their only inspiration to fight. When the odds shifted, they ran. It makes some sense to me."

  "A theory," Knasgriff said, "but just as well a staged attack from the Legions might look the same. They would dare not fight the Island Nation with ships at the peak of our power; perhaps their fear remains. Perhaps the fogs fooled them to thinking you were a lone ship. We must take further guard upon the seas."

  Sviska and Berie stared at the image on the man's hand. It was the same as the assassin back at Kersa. Knasgriff made eye contact with Sviska and put a finger to his lips. He did not wish for others to know.

  Knasgriff looked up to the tattered sails and spiked lines still laced into the wood of the Bovika ship.

  "Is your ship well enough to get you home?" he asked.

  "I will manage, Knasgriff, Thank you," Tvila said.

  "We will escort her to assure they do not return," Ruir stated. "We will be ready for a fight if they do."

  "Very well," Knasgriff said.

  From his own ship, the chieftain of the Lunis shouted, "If all as well, we will be headed out."

  Knasgriff waved them away, and the ships started away from the others.

  "Their lack of haste is troubling," Sviska said. "Can you trust them?"

  "That is all we have, Sviska." Knasgriff said. "Manpower is needed in war. The cities of Lunis and New Srun are the most populated, each bringing around 600 able bodies to fight."

  "Colui means well, but he is following Maerin too much, I fear," Tvila said, "I feel they will come around."

  He nodded toward her, but the doubt was blatant on his face.