Wisdom: Action Adventure Fantasy (Tuatha Legends Series Book 5): Tuatha Legends Series, #5

By P.M. Gilbert

Gaining knowledge is expected in life - acquiring Wisdom can be a dangerous battle...

 

Wisdom is the fifth book in P.M. Gilbert's Tuatha Legends fantasy series. In this instalment, Cerys Jenkins finds herself pursued by the evil Fomorians who believe she holds the key to locating a powerful magical artefact known as the Cup of Wisdom. 

 

Cerys must embark on a perilous quest to find the Cup before the Fomorians can claim it. But Balor's daughter, the evil sorceress Ethniu is relentless in her pursuit of Cerys.

 

Will Cerys be able to summon new depths of courage and power and develop her gifts to help in her battle against Ethniu?

 

Wisdom follows Cerys' harrowing coming-of-age journey from grief to strength in a race against time to protect the magical secrets of her people. 

 

With vivid world-building and pulse-pounding action, Wisdom delivers fantasy adventure that will enthral fans of the series.

 

Wisdom is the fifth book in P.M. Gilbert's Tuatha Legends fantasy series. In this instalment, Cerys Jenkins finds herself pursued by the evil Fomorians who believe she holds the key to locating a powerful magical artefact known as the Cup of Wisdom.

 

READERS: Please note. These books are set in Ireland, England, Scotland and Wales. As a result they are written in UK English - spellings of some common words will vary from US spellings - They are not typographical errors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vida Moda Ltd
• Release date: Jun 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9781739302221

Book preview

1

George was exhausted. He sat on the back of the dragon's neck as they flew through the night. He was cold and coughing regularly from the effects of the smoke that drifted back over him from the dragon's nostrils as it occasionally breathed fire. His plan to escape the Henge on the dragon and land somewhere near Salisbury so he could catch a train back to London hadn't happened.

He'd either lost the ability to control the beast or it, for whatever reason, had decided it didn't want to land at Salisbury. He'd panicked briefly and tried all his moves, touching the dragon's neck to make it turn, sending instructions via his thoughts. All things that had worked as he'd created a distraction with the dragon to allow his friends to escape from the Henge.

Now they appeared useless. They were just flying. He no idea where they were going. George coughed again as a wave of thin smoke rolled over him, as the dragon breathed fire without roaring. He grimaced at the foul-smelling smoke.

He was mentally exhausted, and though he had no control over their direction, he felt safe. He was so tired. George pulled his soot covered jacket a little tighter around him and bent forwards to lie against the dragon's neck, dropping out of the chilly turbulent night air, seeking warmth from its body.

Soon he fell into an uneasy sleep while the beast's great wings beat slowly and soundlessly as it carried him northwards.

2

Cerys' father had left the house early that morning. He had a khaki knapsack slung over his shoulders, packed with useful items for his walk. They included a compass, a flask of tea, greaseproof wrapped sandwiches he'd made that morning, plus fruit and a bag of treats for Dylan.

He enjoyed the idyllic setting where they had moved to live in the hills of the Welsh valleys. He found walking in the hills and the fields gave him peace of mind. It was a far cry from the confusion, clan politics, in-fighting, and constant disruption he experienced inside the Chieftains Council of the Tuatha.

Dylan gamboled along at his side, sniffing for a scent of something he could chase. The day was clear and bright with a blue sky, the early morning sunshine casting dappled shadows through the trees that grew from the hedgerows. Rhys stopped and breathed in some deep lungfuls of the sweet air, as relaxed as he'd ever been. He glanced around, enjoying nature, seeing cows and sheep calmly going about their business, munching on the lush valley’s grass.

He strode purposefully up the hill while Dylan raced ahead checking for rabbits. Rhys wanted to get to the top to take in the full view of the valley. It was one of his favourite spots on this walk.

He was ready for a break, ready to stop and have a cup of tea from his flask while taking in the view.

Rhys didn't expect the sight that greeted him as he crested the hill. His face hardened, and his sense of relaxation and peace faded, replaced by a sense of dread and a familiar feeling of darkness.

Three men stood on the plateau in front of him next to the stone bench positioned to allow people to take a seat while they enjoyed the view. 

Two of the men were prepared for fighting. They wore full Fomorian battle tunics. Both had swords slung from their belts with an array of small daggers and other battle implements hung across their tunics. 

Both were tall and well-built men with faces littered with scars from hand-to-hand combat. Rhys noted that neither looked particularly bright. Enforcers, he thought. He recognised the third man. Hello, Regan, what brings you up here on this fine day? Are you walking your dogs? He gestured towards the two men, causing one of them to step forward with a menacing sneer on his face. 

Regan was a full two feet shorter than the two men accompanying him, but they obeyed him when he held up a hand to halt their advance. He wore a black cloak with a hood almost hiding his ancient face. 

He had both hands clasped around the shaft of the staff he was leaning on, letting it take his weight for he was an elderly man. The skull of an unknown small animal embedded with green gemstones topped the staff.

He smiled smugly. Hello, Rhys. You always knew this day would arrive. You'll not be surprised to learn I have come for you. 

Rhys made his way around the stone bench until it sat between him and the three men. They turned to face him with the two warriors fanning out to cover either side, cutting off his ability to escape downhill behind them.

Rhys sighed deeply. I hoped after the previous attempts and the damage the Fomorie's inquisitors have already done to me that you would just leave me alone and realise that I have nothing to offer you or Balor. 

Regan chuckled. You know that's not true. Your mind holds many secrets of the Tuatha that we want, and we will have them. Make no mistake.

You always were an ambitious cur, Regan. Are you still trying to curry favour with Lord Balor? I'd have thought he'd have given up on you by now, given that you have failed him so many times. 

Regan bristled at this, pulling himself slightly more vertical, still grasping the staff.

I see you remain as impertinent as ever, Rhys. We both know that's not true. I remain a trusted servant to Lord Balor. He always entrusts me with the more arduous tasks. I organised the capture of the boy. At some point, I will do the same with your daughter.

Rhys’ blood rose and he balled his fists but he didn’t move, I'll make sure you never get your hands on Cerys. She is more than capable and has powers to defend herself and to help the Tuatha free themselves from the curse of the Fomorie. A day of reckoning is coming for the Fomorians. You can be certain of that.

Regan threw his head back and laughed, dislodging the cowl of his cloak, revealing his craggy face in its full ugliness with his deep set, bright green, almost reptilian eyes.

You don't seriously believe that four children are going to orchestrate the downfall of the great Fomorian tribes? 

Rhys nodded confidently. Oh, yes I do. They are four unique individuals who have been prophesied for many centuries and they are here. They will retrieve the four treasures and bring them to bear to break the stranglehold Balor and his ancestors have sought to maintain over the Tuatha. 

Regan paced back and forth, a wry smile on his face. Yes, yes, yet again the same old story. We hear it repeatedly and yet nothing changes. 

He opened his hands expansively. We are in full control. We have the upper hand, the greater numbers and greater skills ensuring that we will be victorious. The Tuatha are nothing but a ragged bunch of rebels that are no match for us. He pointed his staff at Rhys. You will reveal your secrets at my hands.

While Rhys was talking to Regan, his mind worked furiously to come up with a plan that might allow him to escape their clutches. He knew he was seconds away from losing an opportunity to escape.

There was only one way out for him. It was risky, but he had no choice. Regan's men were blocking off the two regular entrances to the top of the hill. If he was going to make a break for it, he would have to tackle the dangerously steep rocky side of the hill.

Regan said, Well, it's been pleasant talking to you, Rhys, but the time has come for us to make a move. We must take you to the Inquisitor's Tower, and the nearest portal we can use is in the next town. 

You'll not take me quietly, said Rhys.

Dylan had been sitting beside Rhys, growling deeply all the while, the dog’s gaze riveted on Regan. The man gave off an aura the dog didn't like.

Regan gestured impatiently to his two colleagues. Take him and let's be away.

The men advanced forwards. Rhys said, Dylan, Attack!

The dog leapt forwards and jumped straight at Regan. He knocked the elderly man over, causing him to shout as the dog advanced up his body, trying to get a hold of his throat. Regan barely got his arms up in time to stop the dog from reaching his neck. 

Rhys saw that Regan's two guards were torn. They didn't know whether to rush to Regan's aid or capture Rhys.

Rhys took his opportunity and fled towards the edge of the hill. He hammered down the rocky slope with increasing strides, trying not to slip on the loose scree as he sent it tumbling down the steep slope.

He descended rapidly. Glancing backwards, he saw he had gained some time as one of Regan's men was now following him, but he was some way behind. The other was obviously helping Regan with Dylan. Rhys heard Dylan barking furiously, and he hoped the dog would be okay.

He continued clambering down the hill. His lengthy bouts of walking had increased his fitness, and he'd lost weight over the last few months.

He had a plan in mind. If he could make it to the bottom of the hill without being captured, he could disappear into the wood at the foot of the hill. He knew he couldn't outrun Regan's men forever. If he could make it to the far side of the small wood there was a village where he might hide if he stayed ahead of the men.

He had a few items in his knapsack that he could use to distract them and delay their progress.

Rhys checked behind him again when he reached the bottom of the hill. Regan's man was still making progress, and he'd closed the gap. The second warrior was galloping down the hill too and gaining on his companion. He spotted Dylan racing down the hill next to the two men, still barking furiously.

Rhys clambered over the last few boulders and sprinted across the open ground towards the wood, which was not that far away.

By the time he made the edge of the wood, Dylan had caught up with him. Rhys was relieved he was unharmed. He raced into the wood with Dylan at his side, and he urged the dog along. Good boy, Dylan, keep going.

Rhys weaved between the trees, and while the ground was solid underfoot, it undulated a lot, and he had to watch his footing. He was familiar with the lay of the land, and he knew of one location where he might lay a trap or even lose his pursuers. He didn't look back but concentrated on maintaining his lead over them.

Rhys reached the location he was looking for and slid down the side of a deep gully. Its steep sides were twenty to thirty feet high. Dense undergrowth covered the sides of the gully, and they were strewn with fallen trees and branches. 

At some point, there must've been quite a deep stream running through the gully. It was dry now, its bottom covered with stones and rocks, and it still carried a trickling burble of water. Rhys slid down the last few feet to reach the bottom. He turned left and raced along the gully, which twisted its way through the wood. Rhys had walked the stream bed a few times in the past. 

He rounded a familiar bend, and he saw what he was looking for. Several trees had fallen haphazardly across the gully, crisscrossing where it narrowed to create a roof over it.

Rhys thought this might give him a slim opportunity to do something about the two men. He crouched and opened his knapsack as soon as he was under the tree trunks and hidden from view.

He removed two packages wrapped in brown paper and hessian. They were homemade and tied with string, and each had a small fuse protruding. Experience had taught him never to leave home unprepared for an unexpected meeting with the Fomorie. He reached up and placed the packages between the tree trunks, ramming them in as best he could.

Rhys heard the men sliding down the side of the gully. They had closed the gap and were only moments away. He stood up and bit through the two fuses to shorten them on the two small packages. He lit the fuses and raced out the other side from under the tree trunks with Dylan. Rhys carried on a short way before scrambling up the side of the gully.

Shouts came from behind, and he knew Regan's men were racing along the gully towards him. He hoped he'd guessed the correct length of fuse to leave on his homemade explosives. 

As Rhys got to the top of the gully, he looked back just in time to see two bombs implode. There was no sound, no dust cloud, there was nothing. He saw that the implosion had sucked the tree trunks downwards, and they'd snapped like twigs. A muffled cry of anguish came from one of his pursuers. He smiled in satisfaction.

He wasn't far away from his destination and needed to put on a last spurt to leave the wood and with luck, find a hiding place in the village.

It pleased him that his home fashioned implosion bombs had worked. He wasn't supposed to have weapons since his exclusion from normal Tuatha activities. Given his previous encounters with the Fomorian inquisitors, he was no longer taking any chances.

Rhys gave Dylan a quick pat on the head and then continued his run, weaving between the trees. As he exited the wood, he crossed over a dirt track. He pushed his way through a hedgerow where there was a gap that deer had used before running along the side of the field towards the village.

Within minutes he was on the outskirts of the village. Rhys glanced backwards and saw one of his pursuers, the fitter of Regan's men, still pursuing him. He assumed the other one had been incapacitated. Rhys was now on a side street and racing towards a junction with the main street. 

He rounded the corner of the junction, and the next thing he knew, there was a blinding flash and a thundering explosion. Rhys found himself flat on his back, his ears ringing, staring up at the midday blue sky and thinking, I'm done for.

3

The Cloud Light portal deposited them back in the castle. Still not being used to it, Finn and Cerys stumbled forwards as if