They were passing the tree line, and entering the realm of meadow, stone and sky. The switchbacks lay below and behind them to the south. Peaks rose in a great line going southeast, and a longer one extending far past the horizon, directly south. Others yet spread north and northeast, but the view of them was largely obscured by the highest peak of all, towering close ahead.
Directly before them rose a vast shoulder of the mountain, drawing on ridges and lower slopes from three sides. It had forest around its base, and beyond a wide meadow of short pale grass that clung to life. At its higher end the meadow faded to bare rock. There, even after thousands of years, could be seen marks of ancient battle.
Beyond the battlefield, half a mile or more, a second set of switchbacks had been carved into the solid rock of the upper slope. They rose up to a higher spur with ruins of some sort atop it. Above even that were stairs cut in the long final slope to the peak itself. At the very top stood what looked to be buildings, and nine mighty pillars—the gathering place of the old gods.
Down below, wolves had followed them as far as the base of the first switchbacks, then vanished. Here, gentler slopes connected ridge lines to the great meadow before them, and in various places Talaos could now see distant, furtive patches of gray and black stalking through the trees.
As they reached the top of the shoulder, and the meadow itself, the Madmen fanned out in a half circle around Talaos and the Three. Behind him walked Auretius and the Stormguard, then the Wolves in a short, wide column.
Dark gray clouds gathered in the cold sky above.
Talaos turned back to Auretius, "General, how are you doing?"
The old man replied, "Astonishingly well. I haven't had such strength since I was a young man. With things as they are now for you... I fear for how much power you gave me to make this possible."
"I was a gift I made with my eyes open, and I do not regret it," replied Talaos.
Auretius nodded gravely.
As they walked on, Halmir, who was rightmost among the Madmen, surveyed the battlefield ahead. He turned to Talaos, with awe in his voice, "This is a place of great and terrible honor, but no mercy, where warriors on both sides fought to the end." With that, the Northman solemnly raised his axe to his chest in salute as he walked.
Talaos however began to sense something.
Behind him, Miriana spoke in a clear, powerful voice, "The Ferox come."
The bulk of the shoulder was a wide, gently sloping place with no defensible ground.
"All halt!" shouted Talaos, "Withdraw back to the slope, and form a defensive position."
They retreated back the way they'd come. On that side, the steep slope limited how many, and how swiftly beasts might charge at them. Better, Talaos thought, to defend three sides than four.
From some hidden place among the rocks at the far end, where the shoulder joined the upper slope, stalked forty large black shapes.
"There they are!" thundered Vulkas.
"Madmen, Sorya, Katara with me! Front and center!," roared Talaos, "Stormguard around Miriana, behind us! Wolves on the flanks!"
As they took their defensive position, the Ferox advanced toward them with slow, predatory patience.
"Forty's not so bad..." said Kyrax, to a general lack of approval.
"They have the mark of the Prophet upon them," said Miriana.
They waited. Then more movement could be seen. At least a hundred more Ferox appeared from the dense pine forests of the lower ridge lines on either side. With them came hundreds of wolves.
"Hold fast, stay close," said Talaos, in a cold, deep voice.
The Ferox from the stones increased their pace. They raced forward in great leaps, and made howling roars as they came. Shortly after, so did the hundred Ferox from the sides, closing gradually to converge with the others. Behind them, the wolves ran in silence.
A light snow began to fall.
The forty Ferox howled and leapt, sweeping onward in fury. They grew close, and Talaos could see the green mist in their eyes.
About the Author
Thanks for purchasing this book!
Anthony Gillis is the child of hippie adventurer parents, and lived on his father’s sailboat, an island off the coast of Costa Rica, a converted school bus, and a ramshackle house in Ft. Lauderdale with a leaky roof and a sand yard, before settling down to something resembling a normal childhood. Somehow, all that made him decide to enlist and serve in the United States Air Force, and then earn a bachelor’s degree in history and an MBA. He worked in accounting and finance for many years, but has recently made the transition to full time writer.
A lifelong voracious reader, including fantasy, science fiction, and adventure stories, his influences are wide-ranging, but include J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert E. Howard, C.S. Forester, and Ayn Rand. He is the author of several books, including the epic Storm and Fire fantasy series, science fiction novel Alien Empire, pirate adventure Jamaica Rum, and the dark sword and sorcery tales of Blood on Bronze.
More information on the author and his works can be found at anthonygillis.com
Other Books by the Author
BLOOD ON BRONZE –They kicked in his front door. They took his family and seized his business. Powerful and corrupt, they fear nothing from one young man.
Arjun is a bronze maker in Zakran, vast and wicked city of a thousand thousands. Inina is a beautiful young rogue who survives by her wits and shady friends. Bal-Shim is a smiling and suddenly prominent man, loved by rich and poor alike. All their lives are about to change forever. Join them, and enter an ancient world of danger, deceit, bloodshed and sorcery.
ALIEN EMPIRE – When the aliens came, the world changed forever, but not even they imagined how.
Haral Karden is wry, skeptical, and the longstanding leader of his field, the history of first contacts between cultures. When aliens arrive in a fleet of beautiful ships, with benevolent words, and bearing amazing technological gifts, he asks the simple question – what do they want in return?
JAMAICA RUM – Freedom, wealth, and power… or the hangman’s noose?
Follow Diego Cargrave and the crew of the Sea Drake through wartime adventure. The 1670s were a wild time when pirates were as likely to end up rich as on the end of a noose, and Henry Morgan himself was an English admiral. A realistic pirate tale, there are no magic items or sea monsters here, but plenty of duels, battles, lusty wenches, and rum. Oh, and the rum here is NEVER gone, but with a crew of pirates, is that really a good thing?
BARRETT’S BAR STORIES – Most interesting man in the world? He’s got NOTHIN’ on Pappy Barrett, especially when measured by blood alcohol content!
Vic Barrett, Pappy to his friends and for that matter, most of his enemies, is a two-fisted, hard-living sailor, traveler, soldier of fortune and veteran of countless close calls. He’s had a long career packed with more adventure than most people could pack into one lifetime. In fact, it isn’t too clear how he has packed it into HIS lifetime, but don’t bother him with questions, just pull up a stool and enjoy!
Acknowledgements
A few authors who have influenced me in the writing of this work include:
Robert E. Howard
Joe Abercrombie
Michael Moorcock
Many boundless thanks are due to my tireless editor, the writer Alex M. Jones
I thank the following musicians for inspiration while writing The Storm's Own Son:
Norwegian musical project Wardruna, for everything they have done.
German dark metal band Powerwolf, for the song Wolves Against the World
Bulgarian composer Dracovallis, for Cynthia and Legend of the Frozen Kingdom
Swiss music group Eluveitie for Luxtos
Swiss composer Adrian von Ziegler for Skilfingr
American composer Brandon Fiechter for his Dwarven compositions
American metal band Manowar, for Warriors of the World and Die With Honor
American dark ambient duo Nox Arcana for Blood of the Dr
agon
The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) Page 27