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

  My father looked down at me and then to the dwarf. “You can travel with us. We head to the place crafted by your kind high in the mountains of the north. It is there we will be safe.”

  The dwarf’s beard curled around his lips and he smoothed it out with his hand. “That is well. This young one has needed someone to talk to.”

  Nurocas looked towards me and the boy-dwarf looked too. I indeed did not look much older than of youth, but I had thrice the lifetimes on this boy.

  “Traveling with a child is dangerous,” Riseaa pointed out. “Are you his father?”

  “His father and mother both stayed in Harrodarr to give us time to flee. That is all that needs to be spoken of about it.”

  The dwarf raised his brow and looked up toward the sky. I knew at once that this meant the young dwarf’s parents were dead. I felt a sudden sadness for him.

  “But he is able. Trained since he was able to walk in the use of hammers and axes. He wishes to become a Hammersong when he is of age. I told him it isn’t worth it.” Nurocas laughed and then pulled his glove off his hand, revealing that while he had a hand, it was a mixture of flesh and crafted metal that articulated as he moved what fingers he still had.

  The dwarves are crafters of many items, mostly for profit to men, but they take to their sciences almost as much as we do to the spirits of nature. Our cultures fought many times, but never has either side come close to victory. Elvish bows do little in the close confounds of underground passages, and dwarves do no better in the open meadows, where clear arrow shots can be had from the great trees of our lands. I do wonder if our ancestors wasted too much time quarreling with each other. Perhaps the answer is obvious now that we face a mutual enemy.

  We continued up the path for the greater part of the day. Our pace slowed somewhat by our new company. We stopped only once more than I expected, but it was not for pity on the dwarves and their lack of stamina, but a foul smell in the air. The wind twisted around us and then changed. A nervous glance passed between my father and Riseaa. They both ascended into the trees. Namase once again drew his knives, and I noticed Slatnichor held his axe while looking around the underbrush.

  “Dwarf,” I said, “They call you Slatnichor?”

  He looked to me and shook his head.

  “Do you not speak?”

  “I speak. Dwarves must not worry of common talk for most of it is foul and untrue.”

  The Hammersong leaned down to him. “But common talk in uncommon times is valuable for the soul.”

  The dwarf nodded, almost as if now he had permission to talk to me.

  “Yes, I am Slatnichor. I am fifth rank of Stone level students. That means I can mine in the mid-level mines by myself. Harrodarr was my home for the greater part of twenty years. Of winters, I have seen 32. I do know by the age of elves I am very much a child to you.”

  For thirty-two years, I expected a bit larger of a dwarf, but considering what little I knew of them, I could not say much. Most dwarves that you see on the roads are much older, stouter, and meaner. That must be a characteristic of older dwarves or just another misunderstanding, I did not know.

  My father and Riseaa descended down from the trees.

  “We see no ill life in the skies or open places for some distance. We will near nightfall before we can get to the next large road,” my father said.

  Again, we were moving. We kept a hurried pace until, once again, an impromptu stop. My father’s hand pushed me to the ground and I turned my face to breathe. Slatnichor, too, was forced down. He now lay in the bushes off the road; the Hammersong with him brandished both of his axes.

  I scanned above in the boughs of the trees and to all sides of me. Nothing. The earth did not tremble with footsteps nor did I hear rustling in the woods around us. I looked up into the sky and spotted that the clouds moved over us with the speed of a great storm. The winds were increasing and a blackening sky gave way to bolts of lightning that struck the mountaintops of distant peaks.

  My father took a potion from his belt.

  “Riseaa, Namase, here!”

  As the two elves came towards us, we joined Nurocas and Slatnichor.

  Taking the potion, my father cracked the top and poured it in a circle around us. A veil lifted from the earth in a silver shimmering, forming an opaque covering for us.

  “Nurocas, we are safe here from the eyes of the deity.”

  “With them abound, you could tell me the potion would turn me to a toad and I would be well with it.”

  Namase laughed. “You cannot drink as a toad, dwarf.”

  “A funny one here, yes! That would be an ill result!”

  It was nice to see them both laugh. It shrouded the truth that the war god of the north had turned to such malevolent practices. There was talk he created this sickness affecting us all, but his quarry was more for men than us. Men were not harmed by this as we were. Kel did not do this. It was something or someone else. Besides, the war god had been missing for some time. I had heard rumor that the Itsu had killed him. The Itsu was the proper name of the gods of the south. Even writing this though, I wish not to give them validation with a title.

  “Do you think it is Kel?” Namase asked my father.

  “No, I would wish of such, but I do fear the war god has faltered. Wura remains, but he is not as overt as his brother.”

  The clouds above began to return to normal as the billowed shapes torn asunder by sweeping winds left only fragments of gray in a path towards the south. The tops of the mountains smoldered from the lightning strikes, with black smoke twisting into the skies.

  We continued into night and shared meat with the dwarves. I have never really eaten meat due to the beliefs of my people, but the events of late have guided new thoughts on old beliefs. The taste is strange and it reminds me of sea air. A drink of tea would be nice. I understand it is the salt that they use to preserve it so that it can provide subsidence later. It is food and of that, I cannot complain.

  In the darkness of night, I could see growing clouds with periodic flashes of light, telling us that another storm was coming. Thankfully, it was a natural one. Ahead, a fire seemed to be burning. Normally, we would have went away from this, but my father urged us forward.

  “This is not a place for a fire that large,” he said.

  The fire’s size was because it was no simple cooking fire. A house was aflame, and though of little importance to us, two people lay outside of it.

  “Leave them,” Namase urged my father.

  But my father as well as Riseaa went forward into the clearing, grasping the two people under their arms and dragging them back into the cover of the brush.

  “Take off their heads!” said Nurocas. “They will be better without them.”

  Their faces were blackened and bleeding. It was a man and a woman. The man had his fingers removed and his leg had multiple long cuts. Into his chest his attackers, or better worded, torturers inscribed runes forming the word, Deceiver. He was no longer breathing. My father closed his eyes with his hand.

  The woman was still breathing and had very little injuries, but her head was swollen on one side and from her nose came blood.

  Her eyes opened and she smiled, looking at me.

  “The elves have come to take me away,” she said, “You are here because we did not tell them.”

  Her eyes were soft and she forced a cracked smile, coughing.

  My father opened a pouch on his belt and rubbed an herbal mixture over her head. The bleeding ceased. He rested his hand on her head.

  “The injuries are perhaps too severe now,” he said.

  “I am well,” she whimpered, “Thank you, kind elf. Please tell the gods of our deeds. Perhaps they may grant us passages to their halls beyond the polar lights.”

  Her voice was weak and raspy and her eyes were heavy.

  “What happened here?” my father asked.

  “The Legion came. They threatened us, wishing for us to tell them whom we had seen. They belie
ved those of magic were going this way and of course they were right, but we would not tell them. We had seen many going north. I even helped hide some of them for a time a few days ago. They said they were going north to a safe place. Dear elves, please know, even as they tortured my husband, we would not give in. I blacked out before such horror could be done to me. But I have gifts, I could sense their thoughts. They plan to kill many near Taria or perhaps they already have. I am tiring now...”

  “The gods thank you for your loyalty to the ways of magic,” my father told her.

  “Beware, dear elf. I feel that they know what your people do. They will not have mercy on you.”

  Those were the last words the woman said. My father draped a branch over her and the man, and with an incantation over each, he waved the branch. Dirt covered their bodies, and flowers sprung from the ground.

  “This way is now watched,” Namase said, “What good has our path been to avoid the obvious ways if they search for us along the same road we take?”

  “It was watched before. We must only hope the great host is still veiled and has not been attacked.”

  The rain started again. The drops covering the burning house sizzled as we began again into the woods. The morning hour would come before we knew it. And so it was with haste that we went towards the northern road.

  My father and Namase spoke back and forth. I at first was too far back to hear, but I made it within earshot of them and noticed that they spoke in the tongue of the elves.

  “We must find the host,” my father said.

  “You know that is not the plan agreed upon in Narisond. We are to get to the ships awaiting at the coastline. Great struggles were made to provide that way for us to head north.”

  “If the roads are being searched, they will have found that place by now. The veil over the host, if holding, is all that can protect them.”

  “The host marches up the road through Taria itself. It was agreed, Loria! We must follow our orders. You and your daughter were to go this way, and then to the sea. The host is not your concern.”

  “Is it not a concern of yours? Do you not have kin going that way?”

  Namase pointed at him,“I made a commitment to guard you and your daughter. I told her I would not leave your side until you were safely in the city.”

  They both stopped walking as did the others, their conversation now public considering its volume had gained.

  “Tell me of her mother’s wishes,” my father said, “Tell me what I do not have the wisdom to know myself.”

  Namase looked down, “Forgiveness, my friend. I worry greatly in these times. I cannot speak of my own suffering as of late.”

  That he said in the common language.

  “That we all feel, elf,” said Nurocas, “I do not know your words but if there is debate of something, please do not make choices without us dwarves. Our two peoples have spent much time to forge this bond in the past months We must speak only truth and not mislead, whether on purpose or not, in these times.”

  My father spoke without hesitation, “A path was arraigned for us to get to the northern city in advance of a traveling host of elves and dwarves that make their way slowly but under a magical veil that makes them invisible to even the most prying eyes. It is very much like what I summoned for us earlier but actually removes those under it from the reach of this realm to protect them.”

  “If they are not within this realm, I see no worry. They cannot be touched,” Nurocas said.

  “The Itsu may have a way around the veil if they know of its presence. There is much we do not know but they could be journeying into a trap. We may not be able to provide much of a hope, but we know they should be entering Taria before too long. If we can meet them, perhaps we can help them to remain hidden longer. My powers are more for healing, but the more elves under the veil, the stronger it is.

  Nurocas nodded,“ I know of another path. It is a way under the bay to the north and will take us to the city we all seek. It is where Slatnichor and I were headed. Like you, we were traveling separate from that host, but we ended up heading this same way to avoid a run in with the Legions. I have a fear that we are being quarried by untimely events.”

  “Is this path easily taken?”

  “There are many by the bay, hidden by ruins. The paths must be known of to be found, but any person, be you beast, elf, or dwarf, can take them.”

  My father nodded, “So we can take another path that will be safer for all and slip away from the grasp of men and southern gods alike. We must do it.”

  There were confirming nods amongst all present.

  “Then upon reaching the northern road, we will find our host and then turn to you, dwarf. You can direct us to these paths, the tunnels under the bay.”

  It was decided. We were to meet up with the host of our peoples traveling together under the enchanted veil.

  I did not know how we would find them, but my skill is in archery not in alchemy or mage craft as my father. I wondered if my mother would be in this host but I knew better than to hope. She was in Narisond. I feared it would be there she would remain.

  We reached the road just as the rain slowed again and, soaking wet, I stared down a hill that went for a good while before the road snaked to the left in the trees.

  “This is good,” Nurocas said, “We are not too far from one of the tunnels whichever way we go from here.”

  He pointed towards a towering rock formation in the woods. It was triangular and overgrown with brush.

  “When the dwarves first settled this region, that was a tower for watching over across the bay. It is one of many, and between those, you will find our tunnels that lead north.”

  “Why did we not know of the tunnels sooner? Was this place not made for all of us?” Namase questioned.

  “Indeed, the city upon the mountain was. However, the place we travel to was that of my kin for long before this. Within the mountains beneath the city, the Snow Dwarves made homes well before we drew the breath of life.

  “Speak for yourself,” the elf laughed.

  “What must we do to find the host?” asked Riseaa.

  My father looked to the sky. The sun was just starting to creep up, and beneath heavy clouds, a cool wind blew upon us.

  “They must be around a day away. I knew they were set to leave around four days after us. We have journeyed for five and one half days now but their path was more direct. I expect them to pass this way either tonight or early tomorrow.”

  “Or we could go towards them if an attack is expected. Would it not be better to get to them sooner?”

  He nodded, “Is it fine for us to leave this place, Dwarf?”

  Nurocas raised his hand, “If that is what is needed, it is fine. We must only get to the bay. There are many tunnels, and both I and Slatnichor here know of them all,” he patted Slatnichor on the back, “I made him memorize the locations in case we were separated or I fell ill.”

  We began heading south. The path was quicker at times due to the downhill slant, but rolling hills are not easy on legs already weakened, even with the strength of elven blood. I do not know how time passed as fast as it did but nightfall rapidly approached.

  We slowed our travel and took to a spot off the main road. My father stated he needed quietness and mediation to pierce the veil with his mind. I did not understand what he meant but we remained quiet.

  I switched the string from my bow with a fresh one. Twine made from the hair of an elven mare does not easily break but I like to keep the bow well. Riseaa took notice of my actions and sat down next to me.

  “You do well to keep your bow as you do. You will be renowned for your archery someday.”

  I looked to him. “It seems I will not have a chance. We go into hiding now.”

  “Nothing lasts. In my 1854 years, that I do know. I have seen many happenings, many people that I felt would last forever. Like a flower withering are we all in truth. At the height of bloom, magnificent, but no one knows when
poison shall strike your roots.”

  He rubbed his head, “I find it hard to remember many things I once did.”

  “The sickness?”

  “It is early for me. Perhaps, time will be given to me in the city we journey to. I understand a cure of sort is crafted. I hope to make it until then. Namase, though, may not be so lucky.”

  I looked over and noticed how the elf was very unnerved, a quality not elvish at all. He twitched every few moments and seemed very annoyed.

  “He has not accepted his fate and he will not. It is not his personality.”

  “When did he tell you he was ill?”

  “He has not. It was after returning from his journey east looking for our path to take that he has not acted himself. It must be the sickness. But he will not tell me. Of other worries I too have had, I wished to defend the youth, those like you, those that will see the evils of this world defeated. The hiding we go to cannot be the end. The elven and dwarven councils would not have simply surrendered.”

  “Alas, they have not,” Nurocas whispered joining us.

  “There is a plan. One that will save our kind and weaken the gods of the south. It is one unlikely to have been thought a path before, but one that will take all of our kins’ to succeed. I dare not speak of it here though. Just know that those that have remained, have a particular purpose.”

  I immediately thought of my mother. I take after her as it is with my archery, perhaps she is part of this plan.

  “Elf,” I heard from behind me.

  I turned to see Slatnichor nibbling a piece of meat, offering me a piece. I obliged him and took it.

  “I know we do not know one another but this place we go will be a home for all. I am happy we will be safe there.”

  “I feel the same,” I replied.

  He smiled at me and though his scruffy look and unkempt demeanor left much to what I would call civilized, I did not mistaken his kindness.

  “Namase!” my father said.

  The elf turned to him and Riseaa jumped to his feet. My father pointed and walked into the road.

  “Come, now,” Namase said to us. He closed his eyes and I noticed a tear forming in the edge of his eye. It was strange and I didn’t understand