Warlord: The Rise, Tales of Nevaeh, Vol. VII, Journal 2: Tales Of Nevaeh

By David Wind

The Post Apocalyptical epic Sci-Fi Fantasy of Earth's future, continues in WARLORD: The Rise, Tales of Nevaeh, Volume 7, Journal 2... as Solomon Roth rises within the ranks of the Nevaen hierarchy to forge an alliance between the ten dominions of Nevaeh in preparation of the coming attacks by the Dark Sorceress as she and the Dark Masters prepare to conquer the ten Nevaen Domains

—Roth and Enaid are the only people who may be able to bring together the Nevaens, stop the dark forces from overrunning their world, and bring peace to all the people, if they survive the hidden forces of the Dark Masters

—WARLORD: Rise, Tales of Nevaeh, Vol. VII, Journal 2, continues Solomon Roth's return to a vastly different earth three thousand years after he and two-hundred other men and women were sent to save humanity. The second book of the series will follow Roth's rise on his new home, as one of the most powerful warriors in Nevaeh.

--ales of Nevaeh, WARLORD: The Rise, is both science fiction and fantasy. Reviewers have called it a mixture of Shannara, The Hundred, with a dash of GoT thrown in as well, and reminiscent of Andre Norton. WARLORD: The Rise, combines futuristic Post-Apocalyptic societies ruled by scientific magic, metaphysical powers, and strong men and women. The series follows Roth as he brings the dominions of Nevaeh together to fight the Dark Masters and their armies of slaves.

Reviews from The Journals of Solomon Roth, Journal 1:

"What a great ride! All in all, a very good book and I look forward to the next one." —Julie Howard, BookBub 

" ...an epic, incredible read....At times, the likelihood that these books are our exact future seems eerie" —Pelican Freak, BookBub

• Language: English
• Publisher: ColSaw Publications
• Release date: Feb 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781735524627

David Wind

International award-winning author and double B.R.A.G. Honoree, David Wind, has published forty-three novels including Science Fiction, Mystery, and suspense thrillers. David is a Past-President of the Florida Chapter of the Mystery Writers of America. A Hybrid (Traditional and Independent) Author, David first Indie novel, Angels in Mourning, was a 'homage' to the old-time private detective's of the 50's and the 60's. (He used to sneak them from his parents' night tables and read them as a young boy.) Angels is a contemporary take on the old-style noir detective and won the Amazon.com Book of the Month Reader's Choice Award. David's Contemporary Fiction novel, published in December of 2017, and based on the Harry Chapin Song, A Better Place To Be, received the Bronze Award for Literary Excellence, from Ireland's prestigious DD International Awards; A Better Place To Be was named a B.R.A.G. Medallion Honoree, signifying a book of the highest literary quality and written by Independent writers. The first book of David's Epic Sci-Fi Fantasy Series, Tales Of Nevaeh. Born To Magic, is an international Amazon genre Best Seller, a Kindle Review of Books finalist for Fantasy Book of the year, and winner of the Silver Award from Ireland's Drunken Druid International Awards for Literary excellence. Over 80,000 copies of Tales of Nevaeh have been download. His mystery, suspense, Police procedurals, and thrillers are The Hyte Maneuver, (a Literary guild alternate selection); The Sokova Convention, The Morrisy Manifest, Out of the Shadows, and, Desperately Killing Suzanne. He wrote the Medical Thriller, The Whistleblower's Daughter, with Terese Ramin. The idea for this Medical Legal Thriller came shortly after the death of a close friend. David said, "I couldn't help but wonder about the medication...." David's his first nonfiction book, The Indie Writer's Handbook, is a guide to help authors who have completed their manuscripts to publish Independently. The Handbook was David's second book to be awarded the B.R.A.G. Medallion for literary excellence..   David’s Links --Visit David's Website at http://www.davidwind.com  

Book preview

Tales of Nevaeh, Volume VII, Journal 2

THE JOURNALS OF SOLOMON ROTH

JOURNAL 2

WARLORD

The Rise

––––––––

A Post-Apocalyptic Epic Sci-Fi Fantasy of Earth’s Future

By:

DAVID WIND

From the Author

The Journals of Solomon Roth is new a series based on the time Solomon Roth returned to Earth to discover a new Earth so changed it bore no resemblance to the planet of his birth.

David Wind 

***

WARLORD: The Rise

A Tales of Nevaeh Series.

ISBN:  978-1-7355246-2-7

Copyright © February 2021 David Wind.

ColSaw Publications / DMW

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

Cover by Steven Novak

Editorial, L.J. Redding, Pelican Proofing.

For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact David Wind at [e-mail]

DEDICATION

To the Doctors, the Nurses, the First

Responders, the Teachers and the

essential workers who are today’s warriors and

magicians fighting the virus on the front lines

so we can have a future.

***

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

LACIE REDDING

TERRY DAVIS

Tales of Nevaeh, Volume VII, Journal 2

THE JOURNALS OF SOLOMON ROTH

JOURNAL 2

WARLORD:

The Rise

Book I

—The Early Years—

––––––––

Full Size Map

A NOTE FROM SOLOMON ROTH:

This the second of my Journals, and continues my story of my arrival in Nevaeh, and the continuing efforts to unite the discordant domains into one cohesive country. It tells of how I use my knowledge of the history Nevaeh knows nothing of, to help guide the people to safety and freedom.

S

CHAPTER 1

SHE was two-thirds of the way through the forest when the sun disappeared, replaced by a darkness far deeper than night should ever be. No eclipse was this; rather, a veil of darkness meant to block her way.

Knowing she had no choice; she slowed her mount to navigate between the dense trees of the forest separating Kashold from Lokinhold.

Imaj, show me the way. Her psychic connection with the ret nestled between her thighs and the saddle horn was crystal clear as she looked through her aoutem’s eyes, for the ret had the near-perfect vision of a night hunter.

The rider pushed her kraal faster, her aoutem’s eyesight allowing her to weave between the trees with increasing speed. From close behind came the rustling and snapping of tree branches. The dark shapes of the phantoms chasing her cared little of anything in their way.

She sensed the creatures of the forest, the birds, animals, snucks, and insects alike froze wherever they were, holding silent and unmoving until the dark shapes raced past them. And then, not a dozen yards ahead, another dark shape materialized to block her way.

Imaj hissed her dislike.

Drawing back on the reins, she slowed the kraal. Behind her, two more shapes emerged from between the trees, their outlines distorted by the fog-like mists of a Dark Sorceress. She looked at the one in front, the one moving toward her. She could not make out the face through the mist.

Before any of these phantom shapes reached her, she lifted her aoutem, stared into its eyes, and pushed her thoughts to it. With tears forming in her eyes, she pressed her aoutem to her chest, then lifted Imaj so they were eye to eye. She pushed a message from her mind into her aoutem’s.

Drawing her sword, she slid from the saddle, Imaj in her left hand.

The shape before her waved its arms in a strange pattern. She placed the ret on the ground, and stepped into a fighting stance. Then, with her right hand holding her sword, she built a weapon of power with the other. Her left hand turned a deep orange from fingertips to wrist, as the force of her power flickered along her skin.

Get away! Find Enaid, she ordered her aoutem the moment the three phantoms charged her. As Imaj raced off, she released the flickering orange power at the one in front, then spun to face the other two. Before she could swing her blade, the two grabbed her arms and held her tight between them.

The shaft of power racing toward the phantom, stopped not two feet from the wavering shape, and winked out of existence. The mist hidden sorceress flicked a wrist toward the fleeing aoutem. A bolt a purple fire struck the ret.

Imaj screamed, took two more steps, and fell. The dark shape moved toward the rider.

No! the rider screamed, her entire body arcing as if the bolt of power had struck her instead of the ret. The two misted shapes slammed her to the ground, knocking the breath from her lungs. The mists surrounding all three dissolved when the third bent over her.

Recognition came quickly. You ... it can’t be you— 

The woman smiled. —but it is me, Atina of Brumwall.

Why?

The woman lowered her face to within inches of the Atina’s. Revenge ... and power! she told her as the swish of a knife being drawn from its scabbard echoed eerily in the stillness. With a smile, she pushed the knife slowly into the rider’s chest, then stopped before its tip touched the woman’s heart.

Atina winced at a flash of pain from the blade. No ... En—

—No! Utter not that name. I am known now as Lessig, and I am the power to come. Smiling, she pushed the knife into Atina of Brumwall’s heart.

***

The moon’s slow rise sent silver shafts between the thick trees of the forest. At the base of one such shaft, the ret, half her body burned, lay there breathing rapidly. The pain shaking the small animal was not from the burns; rather, from the death of its bond-sister, Atina. The agony of her loss pushed all pain away, and Imaj knew there was one more thing she must do.

The small ret dragged herself the twenty feet it took to reach the fallen Woman of Power. There, the injured ret pressed her face to Atina’s cheek, which still held the fading warmth of her just-ended life. The sadness and grief filling the ret, filtered through the forest.

A half hour later, Imaj lifted her head from her bond-sister, turned, and with three legs to move herself, headed east. She had one object in mind, one place she must go to, one last request to fulfill before she could rejoin Atina within the heart of Nevaeh.

***

A quarter mile from where she killed the Woman of Power, Lessig sat before a fire. She had sent her two neophytes back to Hakebar, who controlled Kashold from Candor, while she remained behind to make certain no other spy followed the first.

She was pleased by the two women whom she had selected a half-year earlier. She had sensed a kinship of darkness within them. She had wooed them, seduced them toward the power the Masters would grant, and turned them from going to the Island when they had been called, for she knew both would become strong Dark Sorceresses.

Staring into the fire, she settled her thoughts, and withdrew some powder from the bag at her side. She leaned forward and threw the powder into the flames. The fire flashed high, its orange-red flames shifting into a deep green. The instant the flames drew back, she pushed her thoughts outward, seeking Hakebar.

Seek not your mistress now, came the words of the Master Fasil.

Her eyes widened, but her heartbeat held steady. As you ask, My Master.

An instant later the wavering form of Fasil Abdul-Mu'eid, the leader of the Circle of Afzal, floated a foot above the fire. While she knew this was but a projection ... a vision within her mind, she clearly saw his features beneath the hood of his cloak. His eyes were a pale luminescent blue, the oval pupils surrounded by a band of blood red. His nose was all but non-existent, and his mouth was a small, almost lipless oval set within gray wrinkled skin. To Lessig, he was beautiful.

We of the Circle always look to the future, Lessig, and it is you our foreseeing granted us to see standing before us, presenting us with a conquered Nevaeh. A coming battle there will be, but you are to play no part in it. Rather, are you to go to this place, for your part in this comes later.

The Dark Master lifted his arm. His hand appeared from within the confines of his robe, and a solitary long and boney finger pointed directly at her. Her world spun, and when it settled, she saw a vision of the seas crashing against the solid wall of a palisade. Not the palisade of her mentor, Hakebar, but another, close to the Island. An instant later, she saw the opening of a cavern.

There shall you go. There shall your real training start, for you are the chosen one. You will restore the world to the Circle, and when such is accomplished, we, your Masters, shall lift you above all Afzaleem, and into the Circle of Afzal itself. And you, alone among all other sorceresses shall share our gift of immortality.

Let your neophytes serve Hakebar in Kashold—for now. I have a task for you in Freemorn, and then you are to join me in your new home.

CHAPTER 2

LIFE in Brumwall, and its capital Apolis had returned to normal soon after Namron’s defeat and Queen Atir’s rescue. With the alliances between the five domains signed, the domain in the eastern half of Nevaeh not part of the alliance was Northcrom, which was the reason for the current dinner discussion.

Roth put his goblet down and stared at the King of Brumwall. He had grown comfortable enough with the lilt and pattern of the Nevaen way of speaking to use it in most situations. Majesty, caution is needed when one knows not their enemy; however, our enemy is not another domain. All of Nevaeh knows the true enemy is the Dark Masters of the Circle of Afzal. Time after time our use of caution slows us and allows them to move against us. No matter how the wisdom presents itself at the time, it seems caution is exactly what they want.

And you would advise us to do what? King Ecorah demanded.

Enaid’s hand fell atop his, her fingers slipping around to grip his hand tightly in warning. Roth paused to look around. The informal dining chamber was well suited to conversation. A large window looked out upon the gardens, while two paintings adorned the walls. The room was lit with generous amounts of nightmoss set in intricately carved sconces. Seven of the twelve chairs surrounding the table were occupied. Each person stared at him, waiting for his response.

He glanced at Enaid, offering a tight-lipped smile before turning back to Ecorah. Exactly what I, Enaid, and Enna have been saying this past year. We must unify all domains.

Ecorah’s thick bushy eyebrows rose. And what of Kashold? King Tamor and Queen Kali. They are nothing more than the black bitch’s puppets. They do her bidding no matter what it is. Think you the moment we speak of unification, she will not know?

Then there is but one choice, my love, Queen Enna said to Ecorah. They cannot learn of this.

Ecorah nodded. What news from Atina?

Enna shook her head. Nothing. It has been a week.

Our cousin will hold her own, Darb said. Atina is strong, smart, and this is not the first time she has spied on the Afzaleem sorceress. She knows well how to handle herself.

I hope such holds true, Enna whispered, then shifted her eyes to Roth. And how do we convince them when no one domain trusts another?

The same way we brought Aldimor and Morvene and Llawnroc into an alliance.

Darb’s brow furrowed. Have we not fought enough battles already? Need we charge off again? 

Roth fixed the prince with a glare, ignoring the look on the handsome man’s face. Diplomacy.

Every face at the table turned puzzled. What means this word? Prince Nosaj of Freemorn was the first to ask.

Enaid’s hand again tightened around Roth’s, her eyes flicking toward Nosaj and Inaria, who did not know his true history. It is something I read in an old book in the king’s library, he told them, making it up as he spoke, It is a forgotten word and no longer a part of our language. But, My Lord, it should be. It is written diplomacy is the method of finding a peaceful way to exist with others; in simpler terms, it is a way for all domains to join for mutual benefit.

Next to Nosaj, Inaria looked from Roth to Ecorah. Majesty, what better way to put it could there be? ‘To join for mutual benefit’ is exactly what is needed.

Silent, Ecorah looked around the table. And I ask again, how can this be done peacefully? The domains have been at war for centuries. I am tired of seeing my people die every time a domain decides to attack us.

Roth nodded. And for centuries, nothing has changed. Does that not give you pause to think? We must break this wheel the domains continually ride upon. Establish we must, a council of domains beginning with our allies, Freemorn, Morvene, Aldimor and Llawnroc. We will go to Northcrom first and show them the benefits of joining us.

If they don’t? Darb asked.

They will once they understand the value it has for them.

You know not Northcrom, or Maslo, its king.

Then it is time for me to be educated.

Inaria spoke again, this time to Roth, her green eyes locking on his face. To begin with, it is Nosaj and myself who should go to Northcrom. Ilsraeth and I have always been close. Maslo and my father were boyhood friends.

Your father? Roth asked, surprised at Inaria’s words. There is a big age difference between Maslo and Ilsraeth?

Fifteen years. My father was several years older than Maslo but Maslo was always more mature than others his age. The marriage of Maslo and Ilsraeth was arranged. She smiled at his expression. "Yes, Solomon, arranged marriages are rare, but they do happen. Ilsraeth was raised by her father’s brother, King Ekul of Aldimor—Namron’s father—after Ilsraeth’s parents were killed in a battle with the Afzaleem sorceress and her slaves. She was seven at the time.

The marriage happened two years ago, ending a long period of bad blood between Maslo and Ekul, caused by Ekul who made Maslo a promise he failed to fulfill. To stop Northcrom from further attacks on Aldimor’s people, and to make up for breaking his word, he gave Ilsraeth in marriage to Maslo."

Roth shook his head. But by Nevaen custom, she had the right to refuse, did she not?

She would not do so, Enaid cut in. Ilsraeth, when her uncle first spoke of this, agreed to the proposal. Roth, Ilsraeth is above all, honorable. When her uncle had taken her in after her parents’ deaths, and raised her as his own daughter, she believed it was her duty ... her responsibility as a member of the family, and a Woman of Power, to do what was necessary to keep Aldimor’s people safe, regardless of her own feelings. She also believed it would help repay her uncle’s kindnesses.

Roth stared into his wife’s eyes for several seconds. "I understand, although I dislike even the thought of one person being given to another.’

Yet at times, Ecorah said in a low voice, such is necessary for the stability of a domain.

Inaria nodded. And because of my relationship to both Maslo and Ilsraeth, I believe Nosaj and I would be the best emissaries to speak with them.

He turned to Enaid. You told me you, Inaria, Atir, and Layra, were in school together, yes?

Yes. And we have been close ever since.

Roth looked to Ecorah. Sending Inaria and Nosaj would be the right decision.

Ecorah nodded. And for the other domains? the king asked.

First, we must secure Northcrom. We are in a stronger position with six domains. And I—

Before Roth could finish, Enaid’s hand spasmed on his, her back arched, and her eyes closed. Across from her, Inaria’s reaction was identical.

A moment later, Enaid’s muscles relaxed, and her eyes opened. Inaria’s sigh was loud in the room. The two women looked at each other, their eyes widening.

Atina’s ret ... she is outside the keep, injured. Regit feels her pain.

Inaria stared at Enaid. When she spoke, her voice trembled. Syntha as well. Great distress is the aoutem in.

CHAPTER 3

MOVING almost as one, Roth, Enaid, Inaria, and Nosaj ran from the dining chamber, through the streets, and out of the main gate of Apolis. Behind them, the others followed. A hundred yards beyond the gate, where the trees of the forest surrounding Apolis ended, they found Regit standing over Imaj. Atina’s aoutem, two-thirds of her body burned so horribly the skin was gone, revealing the inflamed muscles. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in a gasping effort for breath.

Enaid bent to touch her forehead to the ret’s. A message of pictures, one frame after another, blasted through her mind. She looked up, tears forming in her eyes. She dragged herself across Nevaeh to reach us. How she could do so, I cannot imagine, but do so she did.

Rising slowly, she took a deep and shuddering breath. The black bitch is in Kashold. She did this. Atina is dead. She was trying to send us a warning. Hakebar is killing every Woman of Power she can find who will not bend to her will. Some have escaped, but she has killed or converted most to the darkness controlling her.

Enaid scooped the ret into her arms and held its trembling body to her chest. The pain running through the small aoutem’s mind and body was unrelenting. She knew it was not Imaj’s injuries but Atina’s death—the severing of the connection between them—that tortured the aoutem.

She bent her head to Imaj’s. I have heard you, little sister. You have done what Atina asked. Be in pain no longer, Imaj, join with Atina.

Enaid pressed Imaj gently to her breasts. Inaria went to her knees next to Enaid, placing her hand on the ret’s head. Regit pressed against Enaid’s other side. They stayed together for several minutes, each sending their own forms of comfort until Imaj’s breathing stopped, and the small animal’s pain ended

Enaid looked up at Roth, tears tracking along her cheeks. Joined with Atina, has she.

***

The sun poked through the windows, illuminating the bed Roth and Enaid shared. Roth lay quietly, unwilling to move and take a chance on waking Enaid. It had been a long night, and Enaid had experienced the small ret’s death in an intimately and connected psychic way within Imaj’s mind when the aoutem died.

Shaken, and barely able to talk after the Aoutem died in her arms, Enaid had allowed him to take her to their chambers. She lay in the bed, silent and unmoving, her eyes open, but seeing nothing of her surroundings while Roth lay next to her, holding her to him and Roth refused to leave her or move himself.

When she’d finally fallen asleep, Roth allowed himself to drift off. But his sleep lasted only  until the first faint light of day broke through the window to wake him. He listened to her deep and even breathing before sliding his arm from beneath her neck and rolling out of bed. He stood and stretched, easing the tightness of muscles held in one position for too long.

Then he went into their shared dressing chamber, dressed, and looked in on Enaid once more before going to the small family dining chamber.

Stepping into the room, he found Nosaj and Darb already there, talking as they drank their tea. The scent of bread and the herbs used to brew the tea welcomed him.

Nosaj watched him as he sat. How is she?

Sleeping. She has not moved since she fell asleep.

The Prince of Freemorn nodded. Inaria as well. It was hard on them, so tightly joined to the aoutem were they, they experienced the deaths of both Atina and Imaj.

I cannot imagine ... Roth shook his head, his words trailing off.

But still must we plan to move forward, yes? Darb said, reaching out with both hands to grasped Roth and Nosaj’s hands.

Roth looked from one to the other. This must be done if there is any chance to defeat these Dark Masters.

A serving girl came in and set a cup of the fragrant tea and a platter of food before Roth, then silently slipped out. Roth lifted the cup and sipped. When he set it down, he said, Yes, we must move forward. Our problem now is we have no eyes in Kashold.

Not quite, Darb said. After the two of you went to your chambers, I sat with my father and we discussed what happened. He gave me permission to send someone.

He would take a chance with another life? Nosaj asked.

It is not something he wants to do, but it is a necessity. To be blind to what the black bitch does is to be unprepared—you know this as well as I. There is a Woman of Power who lives in a village a few hours from here. She was Enaid’s birth nurse, and mine. She lived with us until I was five. She returned to her husband, and home, and settled in. She is one of those rare women whose power did not expand past a singular gift. She is a healer. Darb paused before saying, Her daughter fell in love with a warrior of Kashold and went to live with him in a village near Cander.

And you will recruit her to be your spy?

Darb shrugged. We shall see. Mother and I leave shortly to meet with her. We will return tonight.

***

Calling for a meeting of the allied domains will create suspicions, Namor said, looking from face to face. The commander of Brumwall’s forces and military advisor waited for someone to speak.

Roth wagged his finger in the air. We call not for a meeting of only the united domains. We invite all rulers, except for Kashold. But first we must bring Northcrom into the Alliance. With six domains united, the other three will see the validity of what we seek. And yes, Namor is correct. To have the rulers of domains gather openly would create suspicion to those controlling Kashold.

Nosaj stood and bent over the hand-drawn map spread across the table. But if the messenger invites only kings and queens, and this is done privately, there would be no suspicion.

If the secrecy can be maintained. But what of the messengers? Just their presence in a royal court would begin a rumor. Roth paused, his brows rising as he stared at the map of Nevaeh. And we need to explain ourselves to the allied domains as well. The forming of a counsel, for that is a necessity, must be something all domains agree upon.

Ecorah leaned forward. I understand your reasoning. To answer the first question: there can be but one messenger who goes to the western domains, but only after Northcrom becomes a part of the alliance. The messenger will be Darb, Ecaroh declared, then added, The question is where to hold this meeting without raising suspicions in Kashold?

Nosaj placed a finger on the map. The location was in the western mountains of Freemorn, near the joined borders of Freemorn and Brumwall. "Here. This spot is nearly equal in distance from all domains. My grandfather built a keep