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

  “A full Legion,” he replied, “General Arsus has instructed us to set up a fort in this region. Rumor has it we will march south from here. A spear point in a coming battle against Finar.”

  “Mind your rumors,” said Brethor. “We do not want the enemy knowing of such.”

  “Where do you head now?”

  “To Lokam.”

  The evening sun was setting even as they parted from the horsemen and began north. The path ascending the lands back towards Lokam took longer and was more strenuous, even with the horses, due to the darkness above them. It was with a careful relaxation they did not mind taking more time, but in Lokam, trouble was coming.

  The walls of Lokam were silent. The hour was one past the midnight moon’s trek when a rustling of wings awoke Bloodhawk. The Falacar chieftain was attuned to the sounds of birds but those he was not keen of had taken flight. His bow in hand, he emerged from his tent and smelled the air. Looking up, he spotted the wings of the Iolas above flying towards the city.

  “Come with me,” he said to two other Falacar who had been standing near his tent.

  The Falacar encampment was to the east of the city, and taking to horses, they sped towards the gates leading into the eastern section of Lokam. He had placed guards to watch for dangers but he sensed something was happening.

  Reaching the gates, the two legionnaires held up their hands. “What is it this night that stirs you?” the guard asked.

  “Above, the Iolas, they are about for no reason.”

  The guard stepped forward and away from the gate. He looked up, seeing nothing.

  “I will inform the watch officer of such.”

  “You must do so now. You are not to trust these cursed birds.”

  A horn then called across the city.

  “What is that sounding?” Bloodhawk shouted.

  “An alarm for the city.”

  “Open the gates! Let us in!”

  The one guard looked to the other, who then blew into his hand, whistling. The gate began to open and the Falacar rode in.

  The tower of Kel immediately caught the eye of Bloodhawk. Though he did not understand or know the specific power held within, the glow from atop it showed the Iolas flocking above.

  “Sediya.”

  The Falacar rode towards the center Island, seeing Evurius looking towards the tower.

  “What are they doing up there?”

  “I do not know what games you believed they were playing, but now is not time to think they are of goodwill. Send for the Saints, with haste.”

  Evurius looked to his closest man and gave him orders to head south in search of the Saints. The Falacar rode up the bridge towards the tower but found its great doors shut. From within the sounds of searing meat and flapping wings drowned out the shouts and screams on the other side.

  Guards from all over the city were converging on the causeway.

  “The keys! Where are the keys?” shouted Bloodhawk.

  “It is sealed from within,” Evurius told him.

  The host of men began pounding on the door. Bloodhawk did not expect it to work but, with a firm knock, he then shouted, “Men of Kel, throw open these doors. Let us assist you!”

  It was then a clank and a creak followed, with the door opening just a crack. They pushed it open and noticed a bloodied prior slumped against it. Two other priors lay dead on the ground floor. Bloodhawk looked up, spotting Sediya holding the remaining prior high in the air. He used his last bit of strength seeking to stop the Iolas. He drew a dagger but faltered in his thrust, missing.

  Sediya looked down at the Falacar and smiled.

  Bloodhawk spurred his horse up the stairwells, ascending as fast as his horse would move. He made it to the furthest level just as Sediya dropped the prior. He screamed as he fell, striking the lowest level as more men poured in.

  “What treachery is this, Sediya? Long have our peoples been at odds but can you not see the greater deeds to be done in the coming days?”

  The Iolas flapped her wings with strong and steady waves. In her hand, she clutched the Galhedriss Arcana.

  “I alone killed the god in the old times, I know the secrets of this Itsu Priest. With the Galhedriss Arcana, I will become all-powerful upon the earth. It is I who deserves command over the lands. I protected your lands, horse rider, and for all of that you ride in haste to prevent my reward? I care little of these Saints of Wura, or people of these lands. I will ascend, as the gods of old fade. Let the Itsu Priest come for me, he will find his undoing at my hand!”

  “This book was not meant for you, and I cannot have you take it, as you do now.”

  The Falacar Chief drew an arrow and pulled hard on the string of his bow.

  “I do not fear your arrows!” Sediya shrilled.

  She raised her hands and her body became a radiant light. Other Iolas flew around her and the Chieftain fired his bow; the arrow burned before falling like ash.

  The Priestess began to float out to the open sky and Bloodhawk spurred his horse, following out atop the tower as the other Iolas split away from their master. The Priestess made a call like an eagle, the sound piercing the ears of everyone within Lokam. She turned and began flying away from the tower.

  As other harpies began falling prey to the arrows and spears of those that had come to help the Falacar. The Chieftain stood upon his horse that galloped at full speed towards the edge of the tower.

  “Thank you, my friend,” Bloodhawk said to his horse.

  There was a moment where the horse turned his head, his eyes locked with the Falacar and then its feet left the tower. The chieftain leaped from its back, his ax in hand. He flew through the air, grabbing the foot of the Iolas Priestess.

  She immediately fell downward, before spreading her wings and flapping hard to stay afloat. She glanced down at the Chieftain who, holding her foot with his left hand, raised his ax with his right. She bent forward, diving just over the walls, trying to detach her attacker but he held firm.

  They flew east and low to the ground. Bloodhawk struggled to hold his grip and had twice now managed to save his ax from falling. A hill approached and he sensed the Iolas would try another dive to detach him. As she flew upwards and prepared to dive back down, he waited for the moment and then let go just as she began to dive. Her body flew in front of him as he flew still upward and with a single swing, he struck her wing.

  Moments later, he hit the ground and rolled. Pushing himself up, he looked around not seeing his ax. Sediya was panting. She still held the book of magic, but alone in the field with the Falacar, she threw it to the ground. As she stretched out her hands towards him and began to run, he felt about himself for another weapon and found a bony club. It was too late though, she was upon him and with a single hand, she grabbed his neck, pressing him down to the ground. He attempted to swing at her but her other hand grabbed his wrist, squeezing it until it cracked.

  “The claws of the Iolas take your ability to harm others. Now, I will take what you need to see us. Do not worry; I am sure the screams of others will be with you when the end comes for the Falacar. Just try to imagine the horror your brothers shall feel!”

  Without further waiting, she clawed at Bloodhawk’s face, tearing into his eyes before slamming his skull into the ground. She released him and then went to pick the book back up. He couldn’t move and lying in the field alone he was powerless to stop her escape. A rush of wind and the stench of a bloody Iolas told the Chief that he had failed. The Galhedriss Arcana was gone.

  Sviska was tired. The day’s events still on his mind, the sight of Lokam nearing was a welcome one. A hazy fog obscured the city and only the faint glow of torchlight could make it stand out in the bleak region.

  The sounds of hooves approaching, stirred those in the group to form outward. Brethor and the wolves moved forward and ahead of the rest, finding the errant rider from Lokam.

  “Saints of Wura, you must return with haste!” he said.

  “What is it?” asked
Berie.

  “I know not. My master sent me to get you. There was trouble in the city and I did not stop to ask clarification.”

  The lowly trot of the horses turned to a rapid one, as they ascended the hilly path and rode up into the woods to the west of the city, the fogs split behind the trails of horses that rode past the gypsy carts and to the north gate. It took a few moments, but the sealed gate was opened, and the host headed to the southern bridge towards the East side of the city and then to the island fort.

  Tvila spotted them and ran to Garoa, “The tower was attacked.”

  “The Priors and the books?” he questioned.

  “One of the two important ones remains but the other, the magic one, was taken by the bird woman. Bloodhawk went with her, jumping from the tower and grabbing her leg, but he has not returned. The Falacar scour the fields to the south and east.”

  Garoa stabbed his staff into the ground; a ripple of air split from his feet and turned up the debris on the floor.

  “I will go help,” said Brethor. Rincew went with him, as did the wolves; their noses would work well to find any trace of either the Iolas or Bloodhawk.

  “What of my priors?” Garoa asked Tvila.

  “They were killed.”

  Garoa lowered his head and began towards the causeway.

  “Everyone get some rest,” he said, “I will deal with those of the tower.”

  Sviska began to step forward and Garoa stopped, “Please, give me this time. We will need to take our book back and you will need rest.”

  He then continued on, trailed only by the other Priors.

  “He takes the loss personally,” said Slats. “The Iolas obtaining the book is not something I expected.”

  “I did not feel well of them to begin with but they respected and helped us,” said Berie, “I heard the warnings from the Falacar although I had hope that all of magic would work together.”

  “We were warned,” Sviska said, shaking his head. “The Falacar did try to tell us.”

  Leaving Garoa to the tower and those that were lost, the others went back to the inn. Slats cut a hurried attempt at sleep short, awakening to banging on the inn door.

  He went downstairs, ax in hand, but was relieved to find Nupp with a fresh layer of mud caked on his boots. Leurka stood nearby; he too was awakened by the banging.

  “Good morning to you!” Nupp said. “Quite a gathering near the horse camp and I was told to get y’all.”

  “I will wake the others,” said Slats. “Perusing the nearby woods, Nupp?”

  “Perusing? Nah, I just found a group of refugees. Many more comin’ from the south. Dark happenings. Now, get ‘em up. That wolf fellow was a bit scary telling me to come get you.”

  Slats went and awoke both Berie and Sviska.

  Sviska trudged in his boots, half-awake, and followed Berie who stood in the doorway of the inn waiting for him.

  The sun had just risen completely and it was clear they had not slept long. Sviska drew in the morning air and stretched before jogging to catch up to the others headed towards the east side and the gate to the Falacar camp. A large host of Falacar were about, along with the Wolves of Taria, at this early hour. Upon seeing the Saints, one of the Falacar pointed towards a large tent near the center of their camp.

  Coming to the entrance, they saw Shadowhawk. His arms were crossed and he looked down on them as they approached.

  “I have not met you with my own words,” he said.

  “Your vow,” said Slats.

  “Yes, and it seems now it is best to break it, for Bloodhawk is no longer as he was. We will have need to work together again soon. For now, go to him.”

  He stepped aside and opened the covering to the tent. Faces turned and gazed at them as they entered.

  Chapter 16 Roads From Lokam

  Sviska stepped into the tent ahead of the rest. Around him were dark linens. Deep purples and red of a sheer material he had only seen in the deserts to the west. Candles and incense burned in different spots. In the corner, a man with a small drum beat a repeating rhythm as he chanted in a whisper. The healers of the Falacar, as well as Euso and Brethor, were around the Chief’s bed. Euso had just finished wrapping Bloodhawk’s head and stood as he finished.

  “I take my leave now; there are others that need my hands.”

  Brethor looked to them with a saddened glare.

  Bloodhawk lay on a makeshift bed just off the ground. He turned his head toward them.

  “I failed you all.”

  Sviska went to him and knelt, “You did what you could and were injured, but you will heal.”

  He seemed to smile just a small smile, “My heart will heal, yes, but my eyes are no more.”

  Sviska felt a hole in his stomach at Bloodhawk’s words.

  “The beast cut out his eyes,” said Brethor.

  “I am sorry is what I wish to say, but no apology or act from myself can change this.”

  Behind him, both Slats and Berie lowered their heads and did not speak.

  “I wish to rest, Sviska,” he said. “There will, no doubt, be council and I wish you to go there but you and the elf, come back to me. I wish to speak with you in private.”

  “We will,” Sviska patted his shoulder and stood.

  Brethor and the others followed him out.

  “Have you seen Garoa?” Sviska asked Brethor.

  “Not as of yet, but we are to meet in the room behind the falls to discuss further plans. There was an influx of people from the south. People are fleeing towards us with word that the city of Finar is becoming host to many creatures and items of war. The Cursed Legions are amassing. We have also heard that the prisoners of the Island Nation, among other prisoners, are there. Furthermore, the forward Legion scouted to the west. The Demon had massed many creatures outside of the valley. Though he is destroyed, another creature will surely lead them.”

  “Then we will soon be engaged with the enemy again?”

  “If the Galhedriss Arcana has fallen into the hands of the Iolas, the Itsu Priest may send all of the forces to obtain it. With that book and magic now returned to the lands, he would not need to wait for the moon as before.”

  “When is the council to take place?” asked Berie.

  “Now.”

  They bid Bloodhawk farewell. Brethor led them back into Lokam and to the southern bridge. Following the stairwell down, they passed into the underground region of the city and to the main auditorium.

  Arsus was there and was in full armor; others around him stared at a map on the table as Evurius and the Poluti talked with Tvila.

  “Already we have sent for those of Taria and the Island Nation,” said Arsus, “The Drean, too, have been willing to help and will send one hundred men, though my fear is they are of more use on the high seas.”

  He looked up to Sviska and the others, “Friends, you have arrived. I will make my wishes short and direct. We have sent for deep scouting of Finar and if we find we can assail Finar, we will. I spoke with Brethor earlier and he explained that this Itsu Priest may not give us the time we had.”

  “That is correct,” said Brethor, “In these lands, Finar sits upon the grounds of an old temple of the Itsu. It is there we must move to halt his intentions. The incantation needed to free the staff required the dark moon to be filled with the blood of sacrifices. I do fear with the Galhedriss Arcana in hand, and the massed bloodshed of the Cursed Legions in the battle for Lokam, that he might have gathered enough in terms of residual magic to open the Void of Ages. But now magic has returned to the land. Not attacking Finar would mean death without questions for our captured brethren. Many lives hang on the circumstances of the Priest’s intent. We may play into the plan of the Priest but I, for one, say we should attack.”

  “Then I will tell you the Poluti have already given their blessing and the Legions of Lokam are preparing to march south. I have sent instruction to begin building machines of war among the Second Legion. Our Third Legion arrived in the
afternoon hours. They have told us that all remaining Legions are under the control of the Itsu Priest, and are indeed cursed as we feared. Finar is a ghost town, in terms of people not related to the war effort; the people of the city have fled and more than one foul creature is afoot in the lands. Even with the many that have come to Lokam, we are outnumbered.”

  “Outnumbered is relative to power and ability,” a voice announced behind them.

  Garoa entered the room with Asnea and approached Arsus.

  “And though I do no longer have the book, I still hold the staff. Magic has returned and I have released the Priors from their tie to my power and this staff. Each is a formidable mage, capable of many offensive and defensive spells and they will march to the front with your Legions.”

  “I do not know how the men will feel with those of magic integrated; the Legion is a machine of organization and tactics.”

  “And who wouldn’t like a mage with them?” Tvila joked, “The Island Nation would be honored to have a mage.”

  Evurius went to the table, also, “I see we will not be sitting to discuss this further, so I ask one thing. Taking Finar does save those of the surrounding regions from whatever end it is they are to have. But what of the Man of Fog, the Itsu Priest? If we can take the city and defeat the Cursed Legions, how will we deal with the Man of Fog? Can he be destroyed?”

  There was a deep silence in the room. Garoa looked to Brethor and Sviska and then sighed.

  “I do not know. What information we know of him tells us nothing. Sacrifices were only required before magic was returned to the world and now with the Galhedriss Arcana possibly in his hand—”

  “You are saying, he may not even need the sacrifice at all?” Arsus asked.

  “Correct, but he could still kill those gathered as an offering.”

  Evurius raised his hands, “Offering or not, it seems this book is the key. Would it be better to pursue the Iolas and Sediya?”

  Arsus shook his head, disagreeing, “If we do that, we risk losing the chance to attack with combined force on a ground of our choosing. How do we know the priest does not have the book now?”