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

  Sviska flipped his dagger into his right hand, passing it in a back and forth motion in front of him. He ran hurriedly to the left and then back to the right. Yul now halted, unsure of Sviska's next move.

  When at last Sviska found the man following him repeatedly, he ran forward, jumping to Yul’s left and sliding Sishan over the side of his neck as he passed. The blade of the Meredaas slid easily through his gluttonous fatty tissue, lacerating the man’s arteries. Sviska landed on his feet and turned to see his victim.

  Yul still looked the other way, but his hand now held his neck, which poured forth a red flow as he slouched down to his knees. Garoa was now conscious and staring at Sviska, who stood from a knell as the large man fell backwards, his last breath of life masked in gargling blood.

  The town guard of Tar Mena arrived and poured in, surveying the scene in quick fashion as they surrounded Sviska. He stood and dropped his dagger.

  "He was attacking my friend and sought to kill him. I only did what I did to stop him."

  One of the guards, who by his age and stature must have been in charge, pointed a finger at him.

  “An admission of guilt. Place your hands, entwining your fingers, behind your head."

  Sviska did so even as Garoa reached out toward them, shaking his head. They bound him by his wrists and began to push him out of the brothel.

  "Who is he?" a guard asked, pointing down at the gasping Rusis.

  "He is no one,” Asnea said. “A victim from my master's attack. It is true what the man you have bound said."

  "Why would I trust someone of your regard?" the guard said. "The Lord shall arrive tomorrow morning, and we will deal with this man we take. I say, you deal with your customer and leave the rest to us."

  The guard scoffed, following the others as more guards arrived.

  Asnea went to Garoa, helping him to his feet. He stumbled, pointed at Sishan, left on the floor and yet unclaimed by the guards. She grabbed it as he fell to the ground, then grasping it by the hilt, hid it in his robes. He tucked his hand to hold.

  She pushed him to the back of the building, out a back door, and down a hill toward a rocky ravine that led near the wall. Running under the wall, a crawl space, no bigger than for one person at a time to pass through, had overgrown weeds partly veiling it.

  Asnea directed him in and pushed him under the wall. The path was out of sight of the guards and was one she had used to leave the brothel many times. Following a pathway of bushes leading away, they came to stop near a dense grouping of trees, out of earshot of any of the guards and safe for the moment.

  "Now, sir. You know my mother and can say much that has me thinking of who you might be, but I have yet to hear a name from you."

  The dizziness from being tossed and knocked out was still heavy on his eyes. He struggled to focus, to string words together, but he understood what was asked to let out a whispered response.

  "Garoa."

  She smiled and said, "Well, Garoa, your friend is in a good deal of trouble. I was not as helpless as you two might have thought, but given the circumstances I believe it worked out for me to act as I did. It was a matter of time before that fat man threatened someone better than him, and he is better now than he has been in all my time of knowing him."

  Looking him over, she felt around the base of the trees until she found a box. She opened it up, revealing several vials. She took one and unscrewed the top, rubbing oil on her hands before spreading it on his forehead.

  "It is not much can help ward off the headache. I keep such items near the city in case I need them, but you can thank my other acquaintances for such items."

  He managed to smile and muttered a hushed acknowledgment.

  "Thank you."

  His daughter was alive and well, and though beaten as he was, he had not been happier in many years as he was now, his life feeling as if finally it had a purpose.

  "We will rest here tonight. It is safe and out of the way of the patrols. Tomorrow, we will get back to the city and check on your friend. The Lord of the Realm will return just after breakfast, if he keeps to his normal routine. He has been out gathering support for his cause of late."

  He nodded, grasping the dagger in his hand.

  She looked down at the golden hilt and silver blade. The jewels and effigies of mermaids surprised her.

  "I believe we have much to talk of, given not only your purpose of being here, but what items you carry."

  He nodded again, trying to stay awake, but felt tiredness overtaking him.

  "Sleep, Garoa. I am capable more than most at watching for trouble in these woods."

  He closed his eyes, uneasy to sleep, but unable to resist. However, he did not yet know that his daughter was much more capable to defending them than he believed.

  Chapter 12 Captured

  With morning, a glint of sunlight cut across Garoa’s face, and he opened his eyes to see his daughter staring out into the woods. She possessed a short bow, and had a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. Swinging on her side hung a curved sword, partially veiled by the brown tunic and cloak over her head.

  Garoa sat up, and his head still ached from the night before, but his vision was now clear. He felt the fight in his arms and legs, but he was uninjured otherwise.

  "We will head down to the city. I know where they will hold your friend."

  Asnea grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He wobbled and found his footing. Looking him over, she pulled his cloak over his head.

  "I have left flowers on the grave of my mother every week since she departed, even when I was too small to go alone. However, the woods now are much more dangerous. Strange for a man of your sort to not carry a weapon."

  "I'm not used to weapons, a bit more about me that you don't know, but it is of no importance now."

  She raised both of her eyebrows, not sure of what to say further and then led him down beside the walls of the city. They walked a fair distance away from where they were and then turned back down a western leading road toward a side gate.

  The guards looked them both up and down. Asnea looked no different from any other traveler coming through, and in such it meant, the town guard would not recognize her.

  They went past the center circle of the city and headed east down a small road.

  Targets for archery and numerous wooden weapons in a rack lay against a far stone wall. To the right there was a rocky outcropping where the brook that ran through the center of the town turned and disappeared under the wall. It was there that tall wooden racks held metal cages swinging in the wind.

  “Not only a place for prisoners,” Asnea said, “but this is also a training ground for the guards and even the militia of the town. There has been talk of rebellion of late.”

  “A common theme in the world it seems,” he told her.

  In the cages above hunched an emancipated older man, his bones showing through skeletal thin skin. Flies buzzed around him, and with the wind gusting around his flesh, a rotting smell infiltrated their senses.

  It was in the cage to the left that they found Sviska.

  Doing much better than his companion, he was alert and staring into the skies. He still wore his robes and clothing, but they knew not his condition.

  "Sviska!" Garoa shouted.

  He looked down at them, his tired eyes opening slowly.

  "Go."

  "Go? What do you mean with ‘go’? We need to get you out."

  Asnea and Garoa looked around the area. There were no ladders, crates, or other climbing implements to reach him. At first glance, it was clear that there was no intent to either hold for a long while and feed the prisoners or otherwise access the cages once they had placed the occupants.

  Garoa then spotted a single chain secured into the top of the grate of the cage. It led down to a locked box that hid the pulley system for the chain itself, and with the thickness of the links there was no way it could be broken open.

  "Can you force open the door?"


  "I tried that last night. After a long beating prior to putting me in here, I have little strength to do much more than what I am. Beware, you are being watched."

  He looked behind them, and Garoa also peered back that way. Two men stood talking to themselves atop a raised platform overlooking the training area. As docile as they acted, this meant not only would escape be improbable, but also that an entire contingent of guards would halt any escape attempt.

  On top of the palisade wall behind them, one of these guards watched them, his bow in hand.

  "It is fine," Asnea said, "as long as we are just talking, they will not bother us."

  "We have to get you out, Sviska."

  “Unless you say words like that,” Asnea commented.

  Garoa glanced up to the guard. He hadn’t seemed to notice.

  "You need to get out of here,” Sviska said. “Get back to Berie and Slats, then find me. The lord is approaching. I can see his banners entering the city. It would be best if he does not know you are associating with me."

  Behind them, the clapping of the approaching horses drew closer. The town guard would report on state of the prisoner immediately upon his return, and as the horses began up the hill, Garoa knew they were running out of time.

  "I cannot leave you here, Sviska. This is my fault. You are here because of me."

  "You are wrong. I am the reason I am here. I killed that man, and when the lord arrives it may not be enough that a beard and my garb differentiates me from the man I was the last time I was here."

  Garoa shook his head and said, "Am I supposed to let them kill you?"

  "Go with your daughter," he commanded.

  Asnea pulled at his arm and said, "We need to go. The lord will come here soon. I have people that can help us, but we need to go now."

  Sviska stared down at them and urged, "Go, both of you."

  Garoa ground his teeth and blew out a frustrated breath.

  "If only I had magic," he told Sviska.

  Asnea looked at him with a confused glare.

  Sviska shook his head. "But you don't,” he said, placing emphasis on the words. “Now go!"

  He could more than take the guards around them and bust the chains holding his friend, but Sviska was right. As a shout came from the far road, he began away from the training area with Asnea, but did so with a growing anger. She pulled him behind a house to a small alley and a short wall. They hopped over the wall and then turned to watch as the lord of the town arrived to deal with their friend.

  Sviska looked down at the assembly below him. There was a man not dressed as the others. From the look of him, he was from the northern Tar region. His dress reminded Sviska of those of Tar Aval. With him were two guards wearing the dark red as accustom to that town. The others were dressed as the Tar Mena guard. Perhaps this man was the Lord of Tar Aval. Sviska did not know.

  The lord of the city was dressed in thick metal armor; an animal skin of light brown covered his chest and fell down his back in a cape. On his right side, his war hammer, the same one that Sviska faced many weeks ago.

  He walked near the cage looking up.

  "It seems you have made a poor choice. I am Lord Utros of Tar Mena. You have disrupted my day with Lord Yuas of Tar Aval. What do you say, prisoner? This accusation of your murder admitted by even yourself, I do not know that much discussion should be had."

  Sviska averted his eyes, trying to avoid the gaze of the Lord Utros. He look down, but the lord already pondered what Sviska feared as he scanned him in disbelief.

  "Lower this cage," he commanded.

  A guard went to the locked box and opened up the chain system with a key from his belt. He pulled free the second lock inside and lowered the cage to the ground.

  "Bring him out."

  Two guards went to the cage and opened the door. Reaching under his arms, they held him with a tightly and dragged him to his feet before the lord.

  Their forceful hands ripped open his flesh where the lash marks on his back ached and stung as his tissue was torn from what healing had been done in the time since he was in the cage.

  Lord Utros stared at him.

  "This is not the first time you have been to this city, man of the darkness. You are of The Order."

  Sviska said nothing. The lord paced and scratched his chin. Sviska sensed further words would do no good.

  "What did you think? The neck of my daughter still pure and you hope to finish your job, but had a bit of yearning first. But you are not use to paying, so you killed the tavern keeper after your deed with his wenches?"

  Sviska remained quiet. The man was angering fast. His brow wet with sweat and his breathing now deep, he stomped toward Sviska, balling his fist. In a sudden motion, he struck Sviska in the stomach.

  "Talk to me, prisoner. My daughter is but a child, but The Order sought her death, and you were their hand!"

  The pain radiated from his stomach toward his lungs and made it hard to breathe. He held out his hand in surrender. He did not want them to strike him again. The culmination of pain from the beatings, and now more abuse, took its toll on him. And given that this was not his first time to be captured said much of his condition.

  "I am that man," he forced from his lips. He gasped his breath, which was hard to draw up, but the pain was receding. "I am he who was in your daughter's room, but I am no longer of The Order, nor did I come to harm anyone in your town."

  "Is that correct? Then why are you here?"

  A guard brought Sviska's belongings to the Lord.

  "It is all he had on him; the scabbard for the dagger was all we could find. The blade itself was gone. There is this book here also, but I cannot open it."

  The lord examined the scabbard. "Mermaids,” he said to himself. “I have not seen such an item in a long time worn by anyone younger than myself. The Grand Protectorate would not allow such a thing, and The Order would not either. And a jeweled book that will not open? What tricks are these?"

  "No tricks, and I am not of The Order any longer. I beg you to hear me out."

  The lord stared at him. The look of his beaten form would not easily chase the image of his daughter's potential murderer with ease. However, he was not a hasty man of things in these matters, and he pondered Sviska's words.

  There was a coldness, a sharp wind that tore through the city; a sudden gloom fell upon those that stood around Sviska. Even Garoa and Asnea looked up, the storm clouds above them rolled in from nowhere.

  A fog also came in, and in the shroud of gray, black forms appeared next to the lord of the city, as well as the one of Tar Aval.

  The twangs of bowstrings filled the air, but their bolts were shredded before reaching their targets. Others drew weapons within the company of men near the lords.

  A center figure of the black ones rose its hand, and those with weapons fell to the ground unconscious. The two lords of the Taria region looked on as the fog cleared, and a man with no face, the one from the cart back in Lokam, lowered his staff, and the fogs receded into the orb atop it. The figure emanated light. He was faceless except for a grey portal of nothingness within his cloak. He held his staff out, the orb atop proving to be the source of the fogs flowing outward and around them all.

  Sviska raised his head. The black forms were no strangers to him. They were the same as in Elinathrond. The same as he, or as he had been. Dark Ones. Kasis was with them.

  Through the clearing fog, a contingent of legionnaires marched down the road at the center of the town. With them came a a passenger cart and a horse cart drawn by four horses. They came to rest at the edge of the roadway, and out stepped a white-robed man — The Order was now in Tar Mena.

  Kasis stepped forward and approached Lord Utros. He said, "Within your city someone used magic, and we have sought them out. I have no quarrel with you, nor anyone else here. Your men are well, I assure you, but we have come for the one of magic."

  "Order scum!" shouted Lord Yuas as his hand went for his sword.

&
nbsp; Before he could draw his blade, the faceless man lifted his staff and unseen hands snagged him. A cracking sound snapped in the air, and his body slumped down with his eyes still open.

  The man of The Order spoke: "I am known as The Order Hand. Although I know you are not an ally, I would hope with our guests here you will be respectful and do as we wish."

  He motioned toward Kasis and the faceless man.

  "Do know that if we meant to usurp you from your place of power we could, but that is not yet our plan."

  Lord Utros looked on his friend, now dead. "I have none of whom you seek, but you must know enough of my dealings with the Grand Protectorate to know I would not give up one of magic, regardless that they are all dead and have been so for some time."

  Kasis nodded and said, "Yes, The Order knows your dealings with the Legions, as well as your rebellion, but it is not of my concern at this time, as he told you." Kasis pointed at the old man. "What faith you have in that bastard child is your own. We do not assail you, for our reasons before were short sighted, and further more we do not care of that. As for magic, you must know enough by now to know magic is not gone."

  "You will not find my daughter,” Lord Utros said. “I have assured her safety. But I know what I know, and I have none of magic. Only a murderer."

  He motioned toward Sviska, but did not mention of his belief of Sviska being of The Order. It seemed that Sviska's word had gave some reason to this, but of that, it was no help to him now.

  Kasis glanced over. His attention had not been on the bleeding man held up by the guards that remained standing, having not drawn their weapons before.

  He laughed and then drew his sword, yelling, "Sviska!"

  The Order Hand pointed, and the legionnaires were upon Sviska, pushing the guards from the town to their backs and dragging the prisoner toward the cart.

  "He is not who we seek, but we will take him, too," the Order Hand said.

  Kasis looked to The Order Hand and said, "Could he be the source?"

  "I do not believe so, but I feel where we find him, the one we seek will be close."