Boarding the vessel of Kersa, they began the voyage back to their own waters.
Chapter 5 Mouth of the Winds
The other High Ships began away. Ruir's ship was next to the limping Bovika ship, where the stalwart Tvila dealt with the loss bestowed upon her.
Knasgriff shook his head and said, "I thank you for keeping quiet. There has been much subversion as of late. Whispers of betrayal, of ploys if you will. The assassin from the great hall was not the first nor the last that I expect. The marks on the man's hand hints to me the plot is within the Island Nation, but the source of that deception is still not easily discovered."
"What about Maerin? He seems the most likely to betray you and the others wishing rebellion."
Knasgriff nodded and said, "I agree that it can seem that way, but also it in his exterior he hides. Behind that frowning and shady frame of a man lies someone who just wishes for further preservation of human life. But since you mentioned it, I do admit that his denial of issues is annoying. At one time, he was the only way the city of Kersa could stand against outside threats. When the village of Ukka lashed out in war against the other islands, vying for power, we were outnumbered ten to one. The village of Lunis came to our aid and destroyed much of what made up Ukka. They are still as war hungry as before, but Chieftain Ruir is not like his predecessors. He grew up in war among his neighbors, and now his nation seeks war against only the Grand Protectorate."
"We have something in common then," Slats said.
"I do not feel your trust is well-placed in that man," Berie stated. "He had next to no care to help Tvila."
"Still, elf, I know him. He does not seek to move against us. It is not his nature."
The journey was quick with the strong wind behind them, and they made it back to Kersa just at the start of evening. Disembarking, they began up toward the next level and then Kealin emerged from the upper level, running.
He stopped just short of Knasgriff and took a knee. He was winded, but his eyes held a zealous focus.
"Der is Legion in the village. Best to stay here. Chieftain, dey looking for you."
Knasgriff turned to the others and commanded, "Stay here. I know little of what they want, but it would be better for them not see you."
They nodded, knowing he was right.
Kealin looked to the others. "Der Legion is here in force and with more weapons that normal. They are looking for you four too. Dey spotted your ship on the outer cove of the island. Follow me; I will lead you to a hiding place."
They hurried back down the docks, pass the gate to the city. After a few more yards, Kealin halted and pointed them to a barely visible door built into the center structure of the village. He opened it, pushed them in, before he followed and closed the door behind himself.
Sviska placed his hand on the shoulder of the half-elf, "We did not mean to bring trouble to this place."
"Friend, trouble was here before you, and it will be here after."
Slats pressed his ear against the door and then said, "I can hear talking. It is the chieftain."
The others huddled against the door. It was faint, but Knasgriff’s voice was clear.
"I assure you, had strangers made it this far and came to my city, I would have contacted the Grand Protectorate. We here follow the law and wish no ill will of anyone, especially ourselves."
"Well, then," A gruff voice replied. "We have been here for a while and some spoke of strangers within the last few days."
"Mere envoys from the other islands. We have a bit of a trade dispute over supplies. It seems some nations have had issues with their fishing supplies."
"I know the Legions have taken more than their share as of late. Those Legion Legatus responsible have been relieved; I am now in complete command. I am assigning a cohort of men here to assure peace and to patrol, to augment your guards. If there is issue with them, you will have a report sent to me, Legatus Varac.
“Those we seek should be considered a danger and any assistance to them will be taken as an act against the commanding Legions and the Grand Protectorate. I assume that your confidence in the Grand Protectorate will continue?"
"Of course. Good sir, if the people of Kersa can provide you with anything, please let me know. We are happy to continue to serve the Legions."
"Very well. All seems within order on your docks. We will continue to your hall. I would like a meal."
The steps of Knasgriff and the stranger calling himself Legatus Varac faded away.
"Well, then, Sviska," Kealin said, smiling. "Have you and your friends given thought to traveling north? I'd say you’re welcome here is ruined by our lowly Legion company."
"The chieftains have agreed to follow us, determined by the wisdom we find in the north."
"If there be any," Garoa said. "It’s hard to see how going north into some place called the Glacial Seas will benefit us."
"What is under ice now has not always been," Kealin said. "The far northern places are not even within the reach of the Grand Protectorate, and there are enchantments of the gods that further protect that realm. I have traveled for many years of my life. Much life and death has been had there."
His last few words tailed off, and he fell into a silence.
Berie pressed open the door. A ray of light from the cracked door chased back the darkness as she scanned the docks.
"They are gone. The path is clear."
"Very well," Kealin said.
He jumped to the door, pushing his face against it before drawing his blade and spinning out. He then quick stepped down to the docks.
The others followed cautiously. As confident as Kealin was, any run-in with the Legions would be an ill happening for all of them.
"Give me a moment; I will return," Kealin whispered, sliding his dagger back into its sheath before into the water.
They waited and, in a few moments, the waters bubbled and shifted as a large black boat emerged from the water. It was long and narrow, carved of wood, but shiny.
Sviska reached down. It felt hard, as if it was made of stone. A single rudder and handle built into the stern of the boat seemed to be the only item of sailing. There were no sails, not even paddles. Cylindrical black etchings and runes of unknown origin adorned the hull. Images of fish, crustaceans, and other sea life decorated the wood along the water line.
Kealin emerged at the surface of the water.
"In the boat!" he instructed.
"Perhaps we will fare better in this boat!" Slats said, finding a seat near the center of the vessel.
"Better? As long as a rain shower doesn't come, the storms that night would have tossed this plank right away," Garoa said. "I thought the island nations were great ship builders."
Not much more than a single person could fit on each seat, and after each of them took their place, Kealin climbed in, taking a seat at the rear and grabbing hold of the rudder.
"The Island Nation did not build dis boat!” Kealin said and rubbed a small crystal along the edge of the boat. There was a popping sound and paddles released from barely visible compartments.
“Now you will find paddles at your feet. We will need to paddle out to open sea."
Fumbling about, each found that a tiny hidden compartment had opened to their sides, in which they found paddles. They took the paddles, Sviska and Slats to the left, Garoa and Berie to the right.
"Haven't paddled in a while," Garoa said.
"I have never," Slats squeaked, pushing his oar into the water.
Berie laughed and said, "Neither have I, except for when I was very young, but it is not too hard."
"Very right, elf," Kealin said. "You will find that water is indeed your friend more than the land. It is where I find peace.”
He steered them around the other fishing ships and toward the portcullis of the harbor. Two guards above looked down and with a quick nod and a look around, they pressed a lever and the gate lifted upward.
As the ship went through, Kealin turned and tosse
d the two men each a coin.
"Keeps 'em quiet, and pays them for the risk. Legionnaires are everywhere in the village right now. They risk their necks opening that gate at this hour."
Rowing away from the village, the silhouette of the dark boat would have been difficult to see as the sun sank in the west. With each motion from the paddles, they moved farther away.
Coming to a large rocky outcropping, they took the eastern approach, passing monoliths that rose into the skies.
"Border of the village," Kealin said. "Time now to stop the paddling."
Although they had not paddled very far at all in the grand scheme of a trip, they were tired and relieved when allowed to stop.
Kealin reached into his pockets and rummaged about until he found a silver hammer. He leaned over the edge of the ship and placed the tool in the water. He began to tap the boat underwater at a constant pace before slowing, speeding up, and then returning to the original pace.
"What needs fixing?" Slats asked.
"My dwarvish friend, those of the mountains know not what dwells in the sea of the north. My friend needs no fixing!"
Just then, a large silver spike rose from the depths causing an explosion of water and a loud rushing sound as a white creature broke the surface of the sea.
"This is my friend, Tulasiro! She is a narwhal, and no beast is smarter than her!"
The narwhal rolled on the surface and then circled around the ship. Never had any of the four seen such a creature. Its long body cut through the water with ease, and as the moonbeams began to rain onto the water, the horn of the narwhal speckled.
"And who says no magic is in the world?" Kealin asked.
" ‘From the lights of the moon shall the horn of the unicorn and sea dwellers alike shine!’ " Berie said. "I have for long pondered this verse from the land of my people, but never a creature like this crossed my mind. She is the most beautiful of such watery life forms."
Sviska looked at Berie; her face was beaming as he had not seen since the time in her sanctuary beneath the trees of magic and her fairies. Even Garoa, who had not truly smiled for many days, looked happy.
"Now," stated Kealin, "let us continue on!"
Before he could say a word, Slats picked up his paddle, sighing.
"No, no! Paddling is done. Let Tulasiro take us now!"
Kealin went around them, running along the edge of the ship more nimble than any save Berie had seen a person go. Now at the bow, he reached down and pressed on the front of the ship. Two ropes with a metal clasp fell from another hidden compartment within the boat and began to sink in the water.
The narwhal circled around behind the boat and came up to the rope, biting the metal piece and floating forward, situated now like a horse to a carriage.
"Aye, now you lay back in your seats and secure your feet in the way most appropriate for you. We are heavier than she is use to, but the fishing for her is good where we are going. She will have plenty of stock to replace her energy."
Kealin danced, running along the side of the boat back to his spot.
Sviska slid just behind his seat, to where he was laying down. There were lips off the boat that were appropriate for somewhat solid footing and slight elevation to where his back had support.
"If we are all ready then?" he asked, looking over the somewhat nervous passengers.
Nods and further tucking in of hands and feet preceded a shout from his seat near the back: "To the Mouth of the Northern Winds! On Tulasiro!"
The boat lurched forward, splashing seawater over the bow of the boat. The gleam of the narwhal's horn flashed in front of them as it rose up and then dove into the water. The pounding of the animal's tail beneath the surface of the sea vibrated the deck with each rhythmic wave that propelled them forward.
The twisted clouds above passed faster than even the ship of Meredaas had moved. The wind whistled by, and Sviska turned to see Kealin smiling as the boat hopped just over the surface of the water.
They continued on throughout the night. Other than the wind rushing by and the occasional sound of the narwhal’s blowing of air, the trip was silent. Not that anyone wished to sit up or otherwise try to converse. They struggled to sleep and stay warm. The biting, icy air made even the simplest actions painful.
Behind them, Kealin hummed a tune to himself. Seemingly not tired, his wide-open eyes scanned the horizon, remained alert, attuned to their surroundings as the others drifted off to sleep.
The sun began to warm the sky, casting a deep red and subtle orange over the far eastern horizon. Opening his eyes, Sviska noticed they were moving slower now and sat up.
What had been open sea and endless waves was now monstrous mounds of ice and smaller, broken chunks floating in the water. They had reached the region known as the Glacial Seas.
As soon as Sviska rose up, he bumped the others, who awoke with haste and looked around.
Kealin laughed and said, "Sleepy polar bears, you four are! Wake up now and see the wonder of the glaciers."
Weaving around the icy peaks of the icebergs that dotted the landscape like floating mountains, their ship shattered through smaller ones as the narwhal pushed forward. Its spiraled horn broke the path and pulled them into the further northern regions of the world.
The winds grew stronger, and a whistling sound filled the air. Arches of ice, reaching high in the sky like gateways, formed shapes unlike any other region of the lands.
"Place of honor, this here," Kealin whispered.
"For the gods?" Sviska asked.
"For my kin, my family."
Berie turned to Kealin and asked, "There are others?"
"There were others," he said with a dreary tone. "My two brothers and our sister. Much of a stand we made here against such horrors that you of the south have never dreamed of. We kept the world safe from harm, but now only my friend Tulasiro remembers such things, and even she was not without loss in those days."
He closed his eyes, a deep breath followed, and he opened them again and looked out over the waters.
Slats stared at Kealin, his mind racing at the thought of a new history he had not read. But the half-elf did not speak of it anymore. His lips were tight and his head he struggled to hold high as they passed rocky outcroppings built onto the ice.
Berie turned and looked back out over the water, knowing too much of the pain of losing family. Garoa said nothing at all. His mind was elsewhere and to other subjects that had not left his thoughts since Elinathrond.
"Garoa," Sviska said.
It was clear that Sviska had caught on to the sudden aversion of the Rusis to snide comments and otherwise joking manner.
"Fine, fine. Do not worry of me right now," Garoa said, opening his hands and conjuring an ember of flame between his palms.
"Very nice trick you have," Kealin said, admiring his spell craft.
"I am surprised I could do it. That was more of a habit. Is there magic here?”
“In the ice, forgotten, weak. Not like as you need for a strong spell.”
The sky was the bluest any of them had ever seen, and a strong gust built against them. Through a blanket of rolling fog, two crags jutted up high into sky. A dense bank of clouds were atop it.
Passing under a large cliffside, snowdrifts shook as strong winds tore in all directions from stone passageways above them. There was no source for such power, but a cyclonic ice storm raged above them, the winds fed from a large, open passage that reached up between the two crags drawing closer to them.
Sviska thought of the conversation this morning with the others.
"Kealin, can I ask you something?"
"I have few secrets."
"Do you know of Brethor Srivnann?"
"A friend. He was with you where you came from, yes?"
Sviska nodded and said, "He has fallen in battle."
Kealin seemed unmoved. "I doubt he would fall without my knowing. Enough of your questions, you should all prepare."
The current had quick
ened and the waters crested white. Shards of ice sprayed on them as the narwhal struggled to pull them forward. They had come to the base of the crags, and a dense, rolling fog that seemed to stay within the base of the mountains covered over them.
"Best secure yourselves again," Kealin shouted. "Even I do not like this part."
Dropping low in the ship, they looked around them as the boat began to move faster in the water. The narwhal sung a strange tune as they felt the boat tilt to the right, turn sharply, and begin to circle an invisible force. Faster and with violent shaking they went around and around. The boat snapped to the right, and the entire narwhal became visible, no longer in the water.
Through the howling wind Kealin shouted, "Almost there, Sviska! Your token to the gods I gave you, get it ready!”
Struggling to hold his place in the boat, he felt in his pocket for the shell that Kealin gave him the other night. What purpose he could have for it he did not know, but as the boat banked further to the right, he saw the portal of his offering. A maelstrom of twisting ice and blackish water drew closer like a monstrous pit.
"Give your offering!" he heard behind him.
In a single motion, he tossed the shell into the mouth of the whirlpool. A moment later his head pulled backwards to the bottom of the boat, and his stomach felt as heavy as the mountains that flew downward on either side of him. Above, a bright light and then nothing, a flash of black, and then white again. A sweet smell filled his nostrils.
Chapter 6 Temple of the Sky
He laid back, focusing on a black sky above him dotted with stars. Dizzy, Sviska sat up in the boat, and he looked over the others, who surveyed their surroundings. The sky appeared to go on in all directions. Their were no mountains, no hills, no trees. Snow was everywhere; although, after looking closely, he did not think it was snow. He looked to the side and saw Kealin already out of the boat and standing next to a small lake. Tulasiro swam back and forth.
One by one, they stepped off. There was no crunch of snowflakes, but simply a step into a soft substance that was hazy, like fog around their ankles. As Sviska took a step, he noticed that the haze cleared and polished white stone made their path leading upwards. Looking forward, a gray stone structure stood on a hill in the distance.
Saints of Wura: Winemaker of the North, Arcane Awakening, Reckoning in the Void (Saints of Wura Books 1-3 with bonus content) Page 32
