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

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Saints of Wura: Winemaker of the North, Arcane Awakening, Reckoning in the Void (Saints of Wura Books 1-3 with bonus content) Page 68

by J. T. Williams


  “It does not.”

  The other dragon rubbed its snout against his shoulder. He turned to it.

  “Stay well, my friends. You must guard yourselves.”

  The dragons stepped back, standing on their hind legs, their wings flapping as they made a hissing sound, pulling air into their bodies. As they slammed their front feet back to the ground, fire spewed into the sky, molten pieces falling beneath them in drops. For a few moments, the fires lit up the top of the tower. When at last the fire subsided, Garoa was clapping.

  “Very good, my young ones.”

  He gripped his staff, pointing it towards them. The end began to glow a green color and the dragons lowered themselves to the ground. The spikes on their backs began to flicker and grow turning icy and then hard.

  “What is that?”

  “I have learned a spell to enhance their armor. Now they will resist fire, as well as other elements, much more readily. Go now, my friends. Keep a watch in the skies above.”

  Garoa went back inside the tower, motioning for Sviska to follow him.

  “I have much reading to do this night. You should sleep, Sviska. I understand the others are staying in the inn still .”

  Sviska nodded, “They are and I agree. Is there anything I can help you with here?”

  “Unless you can read these inscriptions, I am afraid not.”

  He bowed to him and headed to the inn. Garoa had saved his daughter and his goals seemed set, but Sviska wondered of the power he now had. The simple hand magic that he had done at Elinathrond was mere child’s play to him now. Down the tower and the causeway, over the harbor where not too long ago they had all been locked in a battle for the city, he looked as the moon glistened on the ripples of water. Change was upon the lands and he was a part of it.

  Making it back to the inn, he found everyone else had likely gone to sleep. He went to his own room, eager to get to his bed. He took off his coat and then sat down on his bed.

  The wind blew through his window and he could feel another person was near. He gripped Sishan and, in a single motion, turned drawing the blade. A figure stood in the open doorway of the balcony. It was hooded and had tattered leather armor visible just under a furling cape. In the figure’s right hand was a blade. Sviska thought of alerting the others but before he could, the figure tossed the blade onto the ground before dropping his hood.

  It was a man, scarred and around Sviska’s age.

  “I am a Keeper of what was the Order—”

  Sviska ran towards him, putting a foot on his surrendered blade and holding out Sishan.

  “Then I should not continue this conversation.”

  “You are Sviska, then, the one who did not kill the child? The one they wanted dead? I deserve death, but know that other Keepers did not go with the Man of Fog and Shadows. Not all became as Dark Ones.”

  Sviska kept his blade up but relaxed his stance.

  “I am Sviska and your time breathing will be determined by your words. What is your name?”

  “I am Dran, Keeper like you.”

  “I am no Keeper, but I was. Why did you come here? Why have you come to me?”

  Dran turned towards the city but then turned back.

  “We were hunted. After being called to the city of Lokam to become as Dark Ones, some of us had second thoughts, as you did. We have all traveled much and seen strange things but something was not right. We would not swear fealty to some god-priest and so we fled. Many of us were killed in our flight but still others remained sane and with our own power.

  “Many weeks passed and we hid in the mountains and saw many strange movements in the lands. Then came the grand attack on Lokam. While your forces prepared, the Man of Fog and The Order began to fight. I do not know why, but many of The Order called out to us and we returned to help them. There was a large battle in the palace of Lokam. They seemed desperate to escape one of the gods. Some of the Order left but I cannot say where they went.”

  “An admirable story but I care little for their safety. The Order Hand and I have not the best of relationships. Now, why are you here?”

  “Sviska, we are all without family. We are your brothers and sisters. We Keepers swear not loyalty to this new land or the old but we wish to help you in your deeds. You know such a claim is rare within our ranks.”

  Sviska lowered his dagger and knelt down to pick up Dran’s.

  “You are a man as I, you have chosen your path and while I cannot say I trust you, I will say anyone that stands against the Itsu may very well be friend.”

  Dran took his blade back and slid it into his sheath.

  “But Dran, though I may understand this, your dealings with the Order and such would mark you as an enemy to most everyone here.”

  Dran nodded and threw his hood back over his head.

  “That is why we will watch and wait. Our allegiance is our own. I am a simple man of the blade but some of our once-called brothers have fallen into evil and when you must face them, we Keepers will stand beside you.”

  Dran turned from Sviska and leapt from the balcony. Sviska was again, alone. He shook his head and sat down on the bed. He would not tell the others.

  The next morning he awoke, finding Slats above him.

  “What are you doing?” Sviska asked, staring at the two round eyes that still did not move back from him.

  “They wish to meet early, even before breakfast, I am afraid.”

  Sviska rubbed his face, barely feeling as he had slept. He pulled his boots on and gathered his things before joining Brethor and Berie in the hall downstairs.

  “Sleep well?” asked Berie.

  He was still rubbing his eyes.

  “Look your best,” said Brethor, “The Poluti sought an early meeting, it seems. The others have already arrived, including Garoa, but I do not think the Rusis even slept.”

  They exited the inn, Leurka holding the door as they were met with the winds of dawn and the chirp of morning birds. Brethor in his fully-covered cloak walked ahead of them. The sun had yet to fully rise and a red and orange light was in the clouds above. Walking the streets, the few that were out gave careful looks as they passed.

  “Well, they aren’t grabbing broomsticks to attack us,” said Slats, “They must be somewhat content with our presence.”

  “Would you attack someone that threw down your city defenders?” asked Berie.

  “Yes.”

  “Never mind that thought,” she told him, “These people are not like the elven and dwarven people, they are men, normal and simple men.”

  “Normal men are not as weak as you may say,” added Brethor, “It is normal men that helped you, Slats, on the field of battle and those of Taria and the Island Nation were the strong arm of the army attacking Lokam. We must learn our place in their world. Though it is as rightfully ours as it is theirs, we must not show the face of those that have mastered others. They have seen enough of that.”

  Sviska looked at Berie; she glanced at Slats who shrugged. Sviska tried to compare himself against their many years of life . He had been an orphan but that is what he knew. Aside from lifetimes of life, both had lost many they loved. He had been fortunate in that regard. He knew not any to love. It was difficult for him to understand the true weight of the events on their minds.

  They approached the bridge and found those of the Island Nations sitting against the railings. The Lord of Tar Mena was with them. Some of the Poluti had gathered and a messenger was sent below to summon the remaining as they spotted the approach of the others.

  “An early rise for all of us,” said Knasgriff, “Garoa said further waiting was folly.”

  Sviska greeted Knasgriff, “I thought the Poluti sought this early meeting, did something change?”

  “It was both, but he seems to be quite zealous of this meeting.”

  Before they could talk anymore, Garoa emerged from the lower level with other Poluti. He was in deep discussion with one of them as they made it to the bridge. He l
ooked at Sviska as he passed. The Poluti he spoke to nodded along and then began to speak.

  “Thank you, People of the North, for meeting this early hour. I was awoken ahead of when I wished but dealings such as this must not be ignored. I thank you for coming.”

  He took the sash over his shoulder and threw it on the ground. Those of the Poluti around gasped in sudden horror, mumbling to one another.

  “I am a simple man and that sash now on the ground is a symbol but not one that my fellow Poluti will get beyond the defiance it represents.

  “I say to you all, we Poluti have guarded our people as much as we could possibly strive to but times are beyond us. As a simple man, I offer this greeting to those that chased the Itsu Priest from our city. I am Evurius of Lokam, but of older, of the Children of Lokam. I knew this man,” he said pointing to Garoa, “well before even some of Elinathrond. As young men, I, with others, terrorized the Legions in a way of child’s play. But that time has passed. I am of the people, and I speak in their favor, but we, Poluti, must not look at our attackers as conquerors of our fair city. We have indeed been rescued from the grip of fate.

  “Many nights we spoke of rebellion but had not the strength. Legatus Arsus took that step and I feel more will do so. If they are not cursed by the Itsu gods. The so named ‘Blessed Legions’ are not to be referred to as such. They are cursed, doomed to die by blades that ring for Lokam and the North but I do get off subject. I seek not my own power in these dealings. I say to you, what question was the most common, what request did those people of your districts ask you?”

  There was a silence before any answer. It seemed some did not wish to speak, while others felt a rhetorical question had been asked.

  “Anyone?”

  Sevus, the man from before that had surrendered to Garoa, spoke, “They wished for answers. Answers to the coldness they had felt from the Grand Protectorate. They wondered why some had disappeared as of late and the hosts of people brought in shackles from beyond our land.”

  “I had some that have relatives that lived to the far west. They spoke of the villages raided and many taken,” another one said, “They question how such a thing could happen and why.”

  “These troubles are not isolated incidents,” Evurius explained, “Even before those of magic returned, the Island Nation dealt with this to a degree unlike what we had dealt with here. Their people kidnapped in the night, children dragged away from their mothers while they nursed. Their people were literally stacked in carts or bound in chains and marched. Elderly, unable to keep up with prisoner lines, were killed with malice to not slow down the harvesting of life. I have spoken of horrid happenings in secret but even within Lokam, there has not been perfect peace. Our people saw the power of the war god, Kel. They saw the return of magic people not disease-ridden but in power. They seek unity and we must give it to them.”

  “But what of us?” one of the Poluti asked.

  “I do not seek for you to give up your position. I wish to know the state of the people,” Garoa said.

  Evurius patted him on the back, “Garoa is not a king or ruler, and he wishes to be a rallying light. A beacon against the evil of the Itsu. The Man of Fog, the Itsu Priest seeks something of old to bring back its masters to this world. We must take the city of Finar to prevent this.”

  “So easy a task?” asked one of the Poluti.

  “No,” said Garoa, “But one we must do. That city is an old Temple of the Itsu.”

  “It does not matter the cost,” Evurius said, “Garoa sought council for a vote for changes within Lokam due to his own learnings of the current world beyond our sight. He did not seek any office within the city but to prevent further evil from coming upon us all.

  “The people know us as we are but those of magic are beyond us so I recommend this: as a man, as one of the Children of Lokam believing us independent of the Grand Protectorate, I make Garoa the speaker for those of magic and the one in the coming days that the people look to. I request that Brethor remain here as a representative of those of Taria, as well as Tvila to be left here for those of the Island Nation. The horsemen will remain with those here, too, and will protect the city but we will work to reinforce the walls, watch for the enemy and Legatus Arsus shall be raised to the esteemed rank of Commanding General of Lokam, a title not held since well before the takeover of the Grand Protectorate. I ask, does any person here refuse such appointments?”

  “There is no complaint from Tar Mena,” said Lord Utros.

  Those of the Island Nation spoke among themselves, even out of hearing for Sviska who stood next to them. Their talking then stopped and Tvila stepped forward,

  “The Island Nation will watch the waters nearby as well as support with five hundred of our forces to help to assure the security the city,” she paused, looking to Garoa, “We also support that Garoa be speaker of those of magic but retain Berie and Slats as those we will follow, as well. Sviska, too, we hold as such a leader.”

  The Poluti were looked at next. Among themselves they spoke, some finger pointing and jerking eye movements between some halted as one by one they pulled their sashes and threw them to the ground.

  “We accept and denounce the Grand Protectorate. Lokam is free. Its legions uncursed, shall be the army of Lokam once again.”

  “Then it is so,” said Evurius, “Those of Lokam are now for Lokam and the north alone. The Grand Protectorate has fallen but we as men, and of magic, will work as one to secure livelihoods for all.”

  Garoa smiled and then lifted his staff. It began to glow white and shone over all along the bridge. The statues that stood around them began to shake and crack, those near them jumping away just as they crumbled and rolled from the bridge, vanishing down the falls.

  “The age of the Grand Protectorate in Lokam has passed,” Evurius announced, “May their symbols of power fall and those in remembrance of the atrocities they oversaw be erected! Also, we will have a feast. Our supplies are not the greatest but I say that the city of Lokam has suffered much tyranny in the months before. I will see personally that food is brought from the woods and plains and for the people and those that have relieved us of the Grand Protectorate be honored. In two weeks’ time we shall eat here in formal fashion. Adequate time for the people to rest and prepare for the days to come.”

  “Thank you, Evurius of Lokam,” said Knasgriff.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Lord Utros. “I will see also that patrols watch the western roads and I will work with those of the Leechers as well.”

  Master Nusian smiled. “Our bows will work with you, as we have in secret for many years now.”

  Those that had convened began to disperse. Master Nusian, Garoa, and Evurius stood together. Sviska joined them.

  “More of the Children of Lokam?” he asked.

  Nusian and Evurius looked to Garoa.

  “He met father Elum before we first came to Lokam,” Garoa explained. “We should send for him, meet up at the old inn. A few drinks would do us well.”

  “Thank you for coming for me and assisting my friend here.”

  “You are welcome and I could not turn down Garoa. However, it is most ironic that dear Asnea would end up coming my way, given that I know her father here. How is she now? I have not seen her.”

  “She is better,” Garoa said, “I did not go last night to watch her as usual but I did check in. She is gaining strength.”

  “I feared the worst once we did not meet up again after the wolves in Taria. The worst for all three of you.”

  “We are well and so is she. Things are as they should be for now.”

  “I must depart,” stated Evurius, “Business with the citizens. I will meet up with you all soon.”

  He went back towards his house on the east side as the rest of them began towards the western side. Berie and Slats remained on the bridge speaking with Brethor and Knasgriff but soon they also followed.

  With the noon sun overhead, further work went on about the city as the shi
ps in the waterway began to row out back to sea. Many of the Island Nation set sail for home although injured from the tundra were still arriving and were cared for in rows of tents set up along the north side of the city.

  Euso and Slats were there most of the day as were many of the Priors. Within Lokam, a large storefront had been converted to a storehouse for herbs. Stones were stacked, making a fence around a large patch of grass where already healing plants were sowed.

  Sviska and Brethor worked with others in the city to begin deconstruction of the center tower that had housed Kel. A mostly stone enclosure around an earthen mound, the two greater sides of the tower were actually independent and deemed safe by the masons of the city.

  During their work, they found a stairwell and passage that went further into the ground. Brethor and Sviska decided to get some fresh air, taking the passage to a door that led outside. They found a stone pathway that had been rarely traveled even by the Order it seemed. The path was built into the mountain itself, curving under the falls emptying from the city above as it began its descent towards the open valley and the southern lands. They came to a set of carved railings. Looking up from there the walls of Lokam stood high above them, the crevice that dropped down towards the plains to the further south was evident as massive cliffs mirrored one another that an observer looking from the north would have no hint existed.

  “This place is old,” said Brethor, “and hearing Evurius make mention of olden times made me only wish for those times again.”

  “Times before the Order, I am surprised you know of it. Are you truly that old?”

  Brethor laughed, “No, not that old, but, yes, I have read of it. You know I did have quite a library at one time! I mean more so back when we didn’t know of the Order. In some ways we knew something was at work but it was easier to accept then. It hadn’t affected the world like now.”

  “Garoa seems to be doing well. Finding his daughter seemed to change him.”

  “A good thing. He turns his desire to protect her into a drive to do more. But this also leads to a weakness in the Rusis. Something our enemy could use against us. The Itsu Priest is weakened. Though the new moon approaches, he does not have the staff nor the Galhedriss Arcana. I am surprised a counter-attack has not been launched. We all must remember that Finar is the second goal. The other seal on magic must be released.”

 

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