Brethor raised his eyebrow and his hand, “I can answer that, because we are still discussing these plans. When the Priest has the book, he will return to Finar and open the Void of Ages.”
“And then what? What is this Void of Ages?”
“The path from which the Itsu will return to this land. The gods of the south will be one with our realm, and there will be little we can do to stop them once they arrive. Magic has returned but we must move quickly to secure our world. The dabbling of the Order was but a taste of a bitter poison that will run its course if left unchecked. If we can take Finar, we make another stumbling stone for the Itsu Priest, and one that may mean we can stop him.”
Arsus collapsed onto his hands, looking at the map. He then put a finger on Finar near the sea, circled with black ink. “The Cursed Legions are preparing and to what end, I cannot guess, but when the scouts return and give final word of what we face, it seems that no matter the numbers, we must march.”
“Good then,” said Brethor.
Little else was said, for further whispers would cause an increase in doubt and add to the tension now abounding, even though everyone in the room had known the time for celebration was to be short.
Asnea smiled as Tvila stood to the side of her father. Garoa turned to look at her and she smiled, leaving with Sviska and the the others.
“You have done well.”
He looked over his nose to her and then sat down on the stairs of the throne.
“I have done what I needed to protect Asnea.”
She touched his hands, “And others.”
His eyes crossed over her face and she looked at his lips. He looked down and she took the seat next to him, folding her hands together.
“There is much to be happy for even though the events of the Island Nation were just a starting point for the others.”
“I have no doubt in that, but what else to you mean?”
She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and felt a tug in his chest. Sviska took notice that Garoa did not recoil from Tvila and then left the doorway of the room.
“That we are alone for a moment long enough for me to do that.”
He looked up at her, for a moment. Her eyes gazed at him, and he opened his mouth to take in a deep breath.
“I must return to my duties in the city.”
She stood, turning once more to look at him before she left the room. He watched her leave, clutching his staff between both hands. For just a moment, he smiled, thinking of what had just happened.
The city was alive and churning as people worked to bring in extra supplies and to stock the armies for departure. The many refugees were well taken care of outside the city but extra guards had been placed throughout Lokam in case of another attack. There was a growing fear that no one was safe.
Sviska got what rest he could and then had a hurried meal provided by Leurka at the inn. Immediately after, both he and Berie left to speak with Bloodhawk.
Back near the camp of the Falacar, they were greeted as they neared the Chief’s tent. After confirming their purpose, the Falacar men let them in.
“Bloodhawk, it is Sviska and Berie. We have come to speak with you.”
Sitting up from the bed, he looked in the direction of their voices.
“Come in, please, Saints of Wura.”
They approached and found that two pillows on the ground near his bed. A warm broth sat next to him.
“Please sit, and eat. I do not wish to eat alone.”
He held a cup in his hand and took small sips as they sat.
“Did either of you wonder why the Falacar helped you without question?”
Sviska cocked his head, “You had said the Gypsy Mother told you of the need and you mentioned Wura.”
“Indeed that was said, but in further blessings we were given pardon from the horrors of your world. When the elves and dwarves were hunted across the lands, we were safe.”
“Are you really people of magic, though? I see your steeds and your strength as a warring people, but you do not use magic.”
Bloodhawk nodded, “We do use some magic, just not the traditional kind. The gypsies you know did not always call themselves as such and do share lineage with us. They too are from the far east but from a time well before you were born. We offer our bows to your peoples in honor of you, the memories of your people, and in that we were kept well in those times of darkness. I wanted to share those words first. Before I ask something of you.
“I hope you are both prepared for what I ask of you. I charge you with this as Saints of Wura and I have arranged for you to leave immediately. We Falacar have served you without question and now you must do the same for us. If you feel your charge by Wura to be true.”
“Leave?” asked Berie.
“Yes, I ask you two because I dare not send just one but Slats has his place with the army and Garoa will be needed with the War-god’s staff. But you two, Brethor even agreed, can do this.”
“Very well,” said Sviska, “What is it you want us to do?”
He asked because he knew he needed to know but he was unsure he wanted the answer.
As the Chief set his cup down, he stood. Feeling his way to the drawer next to his bed, he retrieved the ax he had used to attack Sediya. Feeling the top of it to be sure, he tore one of the feathers off. It was dark red, tainted with the Iolas’ blood.
“The Galhedriss Arcana was entrusted to you four. I know not what power the enemy has in terms of searching for her, but I have this.”
He reached into a leather pouch near his bed. He pulled a dust from within and sprinkled the ax with the red dust. He then took the feather and rubbed it in the dust before touching it to the head of the ax.
“This ax was used by myself to try to stop her theft. I was unable to kill her but the blood from her body will react to the sand of the steppes and plains from the Far East. The ax is made from trees from the groves of the Falacar, where we also get our arrows. It is said they were blessed by Elves and that, we shall see soon.”
Taking the ax, he placed it in Berie’s hand. A small crystal on the head began to glow the hue of a early sunrise.
“Then it is true.”
“What?” asked Berie.
“The blessing of the trees by the elves. I have blended the Falacar with the Iolas and the blessing of the elves. Though used for many seasons for hunting our prey in the plains, it has served another purpose. My desire was to find her and if I have done it right, you can point in the direction she is and it will glow brighter. I say, try to the southeast and her lands.”
Berie looked to Sviska who looked at the ax. She reached out to the east and then moved it in a southerly direction. The ax began to glow bright. She then brought it back and pointed it north, the staff returned to the color it was before.
“Then it works. I had hoped it would,” he said.
“You want us to go after her?” Sviska asked.
“Yes, and take back the book. As Saints of the god Wura, I believe you can even kill her. Then return to the battle by way of the necklace of Brethor. He said you can think of the home of your childhood, the orphanage, I believe is the words he spoke.”
“It will be done, Bloodhawk.”
“Then that is what I entrust to you. We must try. And there is one more thing.”
They both looked at him, unblinking.
“Sediya said that she could defeat the Itsu Priest. Perhaps, you can learn how to do that, also.”
“What did she say?”
“That is all, but it is worth trying. Now I bid you both go. Your horses are prepared and I send you now. Do not worry of the others, Brethor will speak to them.”
Sviska looked to Berie who smiled faintly.
“We will do this,” Sviska said.
“I wish I could go with you, but perhaps my ax will be used in my place,” Bloodhawk smiled, “Good luck, Saints.”
Exiting the tent, Shadowhawk greeted them, “Good evening an
d may the setting of the sun bless your deeds. You shall find your horses on the east side of the camp. They have been fed and watered and shall need neither food nor drink for some time.”
“Are you going to stay with him?” asked Sviska, looking down at the bedroll under his arm.
He stood up tall, “No chief needs another chief, but you can say that I will take no chance in a harpy coming near to finish him off. I hear we go to war soon, do not take too long in your task.”
Smiling, he nodded slowly to them before saluting them in the fashion of the Falacar with a fist to his chest.
Proceeding between the rows of tents and horses, they found their horses, as promised, ready just at the edge of the camp. The Falacar seated nearby, around a fire, looked on as they mounted.
One of them stood, his hand over his chest. “In honor,” he said to them.
Sviska gave a nod and spurred his horse. Berie, doing the same, came alongside him, holding the ax in her right hand. It glowed steadily as they took the east road towards the mountains. The lights of the Falacar camps and the city of Lokam were fading behind them. As the darkened sky loomed above, Berie took the lead, holding the ax that would lead them to the Galhedriss Arcana.
Slats was eating alone. He wondered when Sviska and Berie would return and jumped to look as Leurka opened the door but saw instead Asnea and Garoa.
“Good to see someone wants to eat with the dwarf.”
“Has Sviska gone to sleep?” Asnea asked.
“No, he went with Berie. Some dealings with the Falacar. Would you like to sit next to me, fine daughter of Garoa?”
Asnea sat down, as did Garoa across from her.
“Battle comes and I, for one, will be with the Island Nation, I think,” Slats told them. “Garoa, will you and your daughter fight with me or perhaps with those of Taria?”
“We will see. I have my own plans for the battle, if they can be done. My daughter will not be on the front.”
Asnea glared at her father, “I may be your daughter but I have survived a long time without you. I will go with the Leechers and with Taria.”
Garoa began to speak, “I do not feel—”
“You have your way of doing things and that is fine. I am happy I have had a chance to meet you but I will stand with my friends. If as much as I hear about this upcoming battle is true, if this is perhaps our last stand as a people, I will fight alongside those I call my brothers and sisters.”
Asnea stood and left the room, walking upstairs.
Slats looked over to Garoa who looked distressed by her words.
“A good warrior, she is. Would have made a proud dwarf wife.”
Garoa buried his head in his hands with a slight smile. “I was upset. But thinking of a tall woman such as her with a dwarf man just dispelled any anger I could have.”
They both laughed and Garoa stood up.
“In truth, I guess I am trying to be that which I never was.”
“There is still time, Garoa, and there will be more time. We will stop these dark happenings and you will see.”
Garoa nodded slowly in agreement.
It was sometime in the early morning. A messenger from Arsus had arrived at the inn, delivering a note to Leurka who took it to Garoa.
Sleepy-eyed, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment:
Request for immediate summons of the Saints of Wura at the East Gate of Lokam by Arsus.
Garoa went to wake both Slats and Asnea. He then went to look for Sviska and Berie. Their rooms were empty. The others followed him with a quickened pace towards the eastern gates. Crossing the southern bridge, the masts of the High Ships of the Island Nation ships were visible near the center island.
The eastern gates were already open and the Falacar were mustering outside their camp.
Arsus stood next to Knasgriff not too far from the gates, his arms crossed as he smoked on his pipe.
“We will have your people form up within the ranks of the Legions so that, in case of a sudden attack, we may form a strong line. At Finar, we will discuss exact battle formations based on the siege,” Arsus said.
Knasgriff nodded, “The Drean have assembled. They rank actually closer to two hundred in number, more than I expected. Though few in comparison to us overall, I feel they may have technology beyond ours. They carry a large crystal device. They claim it will be useful.”
“Very well, as long as they can move with it. We will march at double footstep. We must get to Finar as soon as we can.”
He turned to Garoa, standing with Slats and Asnea behind him.
“The others, where is—”
Brethor joined the conversation, interrupting the General’s question, “They have gone to hunt down the Iolas, per the Falacar. They left in the night. They will return to us at Finar. I will go with the forces of Taria and my wolves. Arsus, Lord Utros did receive your message.”
“Very well then, I feel we are soon ready.”
“It is good to see you all,” said Knasgriff, “But I must get to the warriors and prepare for march. I shall see you all there.”
Knasgriff departed from them.
Arsus shook his head, “If Sviska and Berie are gone, then very well. I have not the time to worry of their deeds. The scouts returned word that not only did the Itsu Priest leave Finar, but so did all but one Legion’s worth of warriors. The Second Legion has been preparing to move into siege and, already, I have sent another Legion, as well as most of the Falacar, though they were a bit hard to convince without you people here.
The forces of Taria are to take a southern route from their lands and will meet up with us, assuming they do not run into any other issues. Brethor, I know you are ready to depart. Blessing to you and your wolves.”
“Thank you. Good luck, Slatnichor, and you, Garoa. I will see you soon.” Brethor began to run , meeting up with his wolves, before moving quickly around the city and out of sight.
A horse was brought to Arsus, he mounted and donned his plumed helmet.
“I hope you are ready. The time for talking is over, we must ride.”
Attendants brought additional horses to them and they mounted.
“I knew we were needed,” said Asnea, “But I did not know we were departing so quickly.”
“We must secure our ground,” said Slats. “Waiting will prove to be folly.”
The passage to the southeast was a greater distance by the way the armies took, but to the Highland road and then back south they marched. Euso and Slats, along with Asnea and Garoa, rode along with the ranks of the Island Nation.
The lines of the nearly eight thousand men marching ahead of them were comforting and yet caused even the most stalwart to worry. The forces of the enemy still outnumbered all the forces between the Island Nation, Taria, and Lokam.
They reached the valley road, also called the South March Road; its western trek went towards the mountains and left the windswept tundra and rocky ground of the north and east for green fields that rolled in the distance. Smaller streams from the northern region ran across their paths many times and, coming across a rather large one with monolithic stones guarding a massive bridge, Garoa looked to Asnea.
“Now at the waters of the Rinnska River, I will depart you. My priors will remain but I have a weapon the enemy does not, some friends I have had for some time and have watched grow.”
“What do you mean, you are departing?” she asked.
He rode away from the others and dismounted his horse, letting it lap up the waters. Those of the armies, including Slats and Euso, continued.
“The priors can shield the armies from harsh magic, but our numbers are too few.”
He took her hands in his.
“Months ago, I thought only of myself and then, with everything that happened, I found my desires in life had changed to finding you. I have not been here for you and this is not my attempt to be a father but to let you be what you wish. I cannot protect you.”
He glanced down to her knife
and to her bow. She now wore armor similar to that of the Legions. Not of her preference but on short notice it was the best she could find.
“I do not feel you need me to. But I do think that if this siege is to go well, we will need my friends.”
“The men wish for you to be here,” she told him, “I did hope you would be here.”
He nodded, “I will return. Join the others and continue. I have found myself unable to call forth my friends as of late and I am worried.”
“Who are they?”
“I want you to wait and see. For it may be when the day has become dark, I will arrive to turn the tide. Keep yourself well until then.”
He leaned forward, kissed her head, and then turned from her, leading his horse away.
She wiped a tear from her eye and remounted. The forces of the Island Nation bringing up the rear of the armies were just passing. She spurred her horse and headed back to Slats and Euso.
Garoa waited for them to be gone and then whistled for his dragons. He had tried sometime before but had not been able to summon them. That was before the second seal of Etha had been released. He told them to keep safe and they were doing that and hiding very well. He questioned what happened to them. He knew the demon had called many creatures and he hope they did not fall into such a trap.
He would increase the call of his whistle with the Staff of Kel, but the spell would take time and would require the waters of the north and the rocks of the south to lend their magic to him. He arranged stones from the river into a circle joining with the large stones already planted. He had seen an inscription of this place in the Galhedriss Arcana and knew it would work as a channeling device for his calling. He began the spell.
As Asnea reached Slats, a rider from the front rode along the lines and passed them, shouting an announcement.
“The siege of Finar has begun! Our catapults smash the walls and the Second Legion has the high ground! Keep up the double march, men! We do as the General of Lokam commands! Forces, the time for battle is nigh.”
The rider continued riding to the rear lines and then came up the other side, his message loud and firm.
Saints of Wura: Winemaker of the North, Arcane Awakening, Reckoning in the Void (Saints of Wura Books 1-3 with bonus content) Page 75
