Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2)

by Brandon Cornwell

  Elias nodded. “Of course. You're exhausted. Go, get some rest. We will talk more tomorrow.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Full Autumn Moon, Year 4369

  Jenna and Geoff arrived at the camp near sunset, one hundred elven warriors in tow. Several carts accompanied them, laden with supplies. Now, minus the one hundred elves he left in Jetty as per his deal with Fletcher, he was close to three thousand four hundred warriors.

  Elias met them on the road, riding his charger. His ankle was feeling better, but he wanted to make sure he didn't stress it too much before the march north. It would be hard to fight on an injured ankle, after all. His hands were healing nicely, due to the application of the burn salve that Darby had sent with him. He applied it every night, and kept his hands wrapped during the day; though they were still tender, it would not be long before he was able to swing a sword without pain. He mused as to the fact that such relatively minor injuries could nearly disable a warrior as he watched his remaining forces walk down the last incline towards Rockhill. Jonas, Martin, and Tataramoa were with him, mounted on their horses.

  The sea elves drew up to Elias and stopped on the road as he dismounted. Jenna and Geoff marched at the front of the column, which was much more organized than the larger force that Elias had led into the north end of the Lonwick valley. Elias smiled and spread his arms wide.

  “Welcome to Rockhill. How was the road?”

  Jenna sighed. “Long. Very long. I don't think I've ever marched that far before in my life.”

  Geoff shrugged. “I've made worse trips.”

  Jonas wrapped his arms around Jenna, coming in for a kiss. “I've missed you these last three weeks.”

  Her fingertips pressed against his lips before he could kiss her. “Let me have a bath first, you old lech. Marching for a week and a half doesn't make for romantic reunions.”

  Jonas smirked, hiding his disappointment well. “Of course, my dear. I'll draw the water myself.”

  She shook her head. “Nonsense. What's the use of being in command of an army if you have to do everything yourself? You have better things to do.”

  Elias chuckled. It was good to have her back. He turned to Geoff. “Welcome back, my friend. How was the march? Did you experience any trouble on the way?”

  Geoff shook his head. “Got a bit of guff in Pine River. They charged us two silver coins a head for passage through the gates. It was only twenty gold coins total, but I've never had to pay a toll there before.”

  A wave of irritation passed over Elias. “I paid a single silver coin per soldier when I went through, and I paid your way ahead of time, to expedite your passage.”

  Jenna chuckled as she turned towards the camp, arm in arm with Jonas. “Men are opportunistic creatures, aren't they?”

  Jonas grinned. “You bet we are!” he said, as Jenna swatted his hand away from her backside. He had apparently missed her very much.

  Geoff shrugged. “He said that the price had gone up since our lord passed through, and we were to pay the difference. He said if we didn't, the gates would remain closed to us.”

  Elias scowled. “When we've completed our task, I think I'll pay him a visit. I have some words for him.”

  Geoff shook his head as they started towards camp, trailing Jenna. “I wouldn't. Not over twenty gold coins. That's hardly a dent in our coffers at this point.”

  Elias frowned still, surly that the guardsman had swindled his people. “It's the principle of the thing. That was a cowardly and dishonorable act.”

  Geoff looked up at Elias. “Redwood, we made twenty thousand lions off of the cargo, a bit over, actually. It's really, really not worth it.”

  Elias paused in his steps. The marching sea elves moved around him and Geoff. “Twenty thousand? Really?”

  Geoff nodded. “Jenna is a shrewd negotiator and an expert haggler. I think she's done this before. She seemed to especially enjoy getting the absolute best deal possible, and she was good at it.”

  Elias started walking again, looking after Jenna and Jonas. While this didn't surprise him, he hadn't expected it. He smiled to himself. He hadn't realized how much he had missed having everyone with him until they were together again.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jenna, Geoff, Martin, Jonas, and Tataramoa sat around the table in his pavilion, Jonas and Jenna sitting close to each other on one side, Geoff and Tataramoa on the other, while Martin and Elias took either end. The familiar maps of northern Lonwick were laid out on the table, with a red stone sitting on the capital and a black stone at the foot of Mount Stromgard.

  Elias pulled his chair back and stood at the head of the table. “Alright. Here's what we know. There are at least forty thousand Felle in the southern end of the Lonwick valley. They're obviously massing for war, and Castle Lonwick is aware.”

  He tapped the red stone. “They are preparing for a siege, which means that they will likely shut out the common folk to fend for themselves. Castle Lonwick's walls aren't large enough to house the entirety of the city, let alone the whole valley's population for an extended period, especially with winter only a month or two away. They will have gathered all the food they can from the harvest, and pulled anyone they deem necessary into the castle itself. They'll bar the gates once the Felle move on them, if they haven't already.”

  He set a smaller, square stone at the north end of the valley. “We are here, two days march from Valtheim, at the foot of Mount Stromgard. I am going to assume that the rumors I have heard are true, and Brandt is no longer in command there, but we do not know. We do know, however, that we need cavalry to make our mark on the battlefield. Brandt had that cavalry.”

  Elias sat down, sighing. “However, if he is in the midst of a civil war, he will need all of the troops he can muster if Valtheim is to prevail, and then keep the peace once he puts down the rebellion. I'm not sure if he can spare the soldiers, even if we do head north to assist him.”

  Jenna frowned. “Then, is it wise to move north? We'd be expending resources and losing warriors in battles that won't provide us with what we need, and wouldn't move us closer to our goal of finding and destroying Tessermyre.”

  Elias rubbed his temples. “I don't know that we can stop with just him. I think we'll have to keep on fighting until the Felle themselves are eradicated. If we stop short of that, then they'll keep coming back.”

  Martin shook his head, frowning. “So not just a battle or two, not just a single person and his entourage we're hunting, the end game is turning into war.”

  Elias looked up at Martin. “What other choice do we have? Walk away? Let a superior force overrun the valley, slaughter its people, lay waste to the countryside?”

  “We could return to Greenreef,” Jenna said. “We've pushed them out of there, and with the forces we have, we could ensure that pirates and Felle and what have you stay out.”

  Tataramoa shook his head now, looking over the map. “That's not an option. We left our islands because there was nothing left for us there but pain. If we do not find our retribution here on your shores, I do not imagine that returning empty handed will sit well with any of my people. Not to mention that Elias himself is barred from the islands by our gods. At least until he deals with that dark knight.”

  Jenna snorted, turning away.

  Geoff raised a brow at her. “You may have no use for the gods, but that doesn't mean they don't exist, and it doesn't mean they can't make their displeasure known.”

  Jenna waved her hand at Geoff as if shooing away a fly. “Yes, yes, yes, we've had long conversations about this. So returning to the islands is out. But it doesn't mean we have to walk into a war we're going to lose.”

  Elias sat forward. “At this point, I'm not sure how much choice we have. If we march directly south to battle, then we leave the North at our backs. Who's to say the rebelling lords won't ride us down from behind? If we try to escape to the north, and avoid the southern war altogether, if Lonwick falls, then the Felle might push north anyways, and they'll be
stronger for it. If we try to escape south, then we encounter the Felle anyways. East, and we're lost in the Burning Sands.”

  Elias set a finger on the red stone at Castle Lonwick. “However, since Lonwick is fortifying their position, they mean to hold it, and a siege is harder to break than a line of infantry. The Felle won't march around them to take the north, and leave their flank exposed, which protects us from them while we secure the Northlands. Once we're done there, we ride to the aid of Lonwick. By then, the siege will have worn down the Felle, shifting the battle even more in our favor.” He looked up at Jenna. “We're going to war, that much is assured. Now, it's time to ensure we're going into it with as much preparation as possible.”

  Jenna stared at the map, frowning. “That's a whole lot of conjecture, and a whole lot of if. If we find Brandt. If he's still in command of some troops. If he's alive. If we win the battles in the north. If we can ride south with cavalry. If the Felle don't break Lonwick. If we can defeat the Felle on the field.”

  Elias nodded. “It is. Nothing is assured. Just like in Greenreef, nothing is assured. The prophecies were false. We had no assurances that we would survive, but we approached every battle, every ship with the same caution, the same planning, and the same forethought. I expect to do the same now.”

  Jenna shook her head, and stood. “Forgive me, my lords,” she said, a slight edge to her voice. “I am tired. It has been a long road, and I find discussion of a war that we most likely won't win to be distasteful.” She turned to Elias and bowed. “By your leave.” With that, she left the tent.

  The four men sat around the table in silence for a moment, before Elias spoke.

  “I think I'm in trouble.”

  Jonas chuckled. “I think we all are.”

  Elias shook his head. “She's right, though. It doesn't look good. The North isn't going to be able to help us as much as we were counting on.”

  Martin shrugged. “That might be true, but even then, we have the dwarves with us now, and more of them than we had hoped to gain from Brandt. So, in the end, the numbers are in our favor.”

  Geoff harrumphed. “If numbers won wars, then scholars would be the champions, and peasant armies would crush trained militias.”

  Martin scowled. “They don't count for nothing, is all I'm saying. It's not that dire.”

  Jonas rubbed his face. “Well, no matter what, we've got to move, and soon.”

  “I agree. We march tomorrow morning.” Elias turned to Tataramoa. “How quickly can we be on the road?”

  Tataramoa sat back, considering. “Within an hour of first light. It would take longer if we did our best to erase our camp presence here, breaking down campfires, burying ashes, but if we don't, then we can leave much faster.”

  Elias nodded. “Let's leave our camp as it is. We're not hiding anything. Try not to leave too much of a mess, but let's make it quick.”

  Tataramoa stood. “I'll inform the warriors immediately.” He exited the tent to spread the word.

  Elias regarded the map in silence for a moment while Jonas, Martin, and Geoff sat quietly. He pointed to a ridge just south of Valtheim. “We'll march for here. It will take us right about two days to get there, three if the weather is poor. Once there, we'll send a scouting party to survey Valtheim. If Brandt still holds it, I will meet with him personally. If he doesn't, we'll decide what to do then.”

  Jonas stood and stretched, followed by Martin and Geoff.

  “Well,” the older man said, his back popping audibly in the quiet tent, “it looks like we have our plan. I'm going to go to my tent and hear about how foolish we all are.”

  Elias bid them goodnight, and the three men left, leaving him sitting in his chair, pondering over the map, as if his eyes could unlock some sort of secret that he was missing, some key to their campaign that would ensure their victory. The logical part of his mind knew that there was no such assurance; that was the way of war. You brought your best force, your best weapons, and your best fighting to the battlefield, and the better army won. Sometimes you won because of tricks, and sometimes you won because of sheer power.

  Unfortunately, his army, though sizable to him, was smaller than most of the forces he was facing. He would need to grow his numbers exponentially if he was to hope to stand up to the Felle.

  And all of this was in the hope that Tessermyre was there, and that Elias could find him. Anger gripped his chest as he pictured the dark knight that had led the attack on the Seagate, his ashen white skin and steely gray eyes a twisted copy of Elias's own features. He was stronger than any foe Elias had ever faced, and commanded a dark magic that could lance out and freeze Elias before he even got within striking distance. He could flash between shadows and turn into mist, leaping away before Elias could land a blow.

  Elias set his jaw, narrowing his eyes. Despite the dark knight's powers, Elias would find a way to kill Tessermyre. One way or another, he would see the dark knight's head on a pike, or die trying. Of this, he was certain.

  ~ ~ ~

  The stairs that were carved into the mountain seemed to go on forever. Elias plodded up them, his arm heavy in the sling, pain radiating from his back. His wound hurt, and his hand tingled as if he had slept on it, robbing him of feeling in his fingertips. Ahead of him walked Marl and Jayd, and next to him was Coral. He could feel her presence, even though he wasn't looking at her. It was a warmth, a love that radiated into him from her warm, sky blue skin, making his pain go away.

  “Elias, please, reconsider,” she said, her gentle voice almost lost in the slight breeze. “You know not what the gods will ask of you. I fear they will take you from me.”

  Elias shook his head. “Nothing could keep me from you, Coral. Not gods, not pirates, not even death.”

  Coral looked up at him, and he down at her. “You know not of what you speak, my love. The gods are not to be trifled with, and they do not bargain.” Her green eyes were sad, and he could feel himself falling into their emerald depths. “Come back to Seagate with me, and we can tend to your healing there.”

  A rumble of thunder caused him to look back over the island. A storm had gathered, black clouds forming around the base of the volcano, obscuring the palm trees along the beach, and closing on the mango and papaya forests that covered the lower slopes of the mountain.

  “It is too late,” Coral said, gazing into the storm.

  Lightning struck, igniting the forest like dry tinder. Flames rushed up the slope with supernatural speed, threatening to overtake the small party that climbed the steps.

  Elias tried to pull Coral along the trail. “Come on! We have to run!”

  Coral stood firm, not budging in the slightest as he pulled on her, his back sending bolts of searing pain into his arm. She turned her head to look at him, her green eyes fading to gray.

  “You could have avoided this, Elias, but now we are doomed. What have you wrought upon us?”

  Elias reached for her again, but when he saw his arm, it was covered in black plate and chain armor, an articulated gauntlet covering his hand. He looked down at himself, and saw that he was covered head to toe in metal, and on his chest was a black eight-pointed star emblem with a red stone in the center, the symbol of the Felle.

  As he reached for her, she recoiled. Black flames began spreading from his feet, and when they touched her, she screamed in pain. A crimson light burst from the stone on his breastplate, and everything around him ignited, including Coral. Her clothes burned away from her as her skin blackened. She opened her mouth to scream again, and the flames poured down her throat, burning her from the inside out.

  Elias fell to his knees, crying out as he tried to hold Coral in his arms. As soon as he touched her, she crumbled into ashes, blowing away in the flaming maelstrom that surrounded him. The skies were covered in roiling black clouds, rain as dark as oil falling all around him, pooling on the steps. Lighting flashed all around him as the ground began to shake, splitting open. The very lifeblood of the volcano spilled out, flowing
down the slope towards Seagate and Port Greenreef. He fell forward, beating at the ground with his armored fists. He could feel the fire as the molten lava flowed over him, burning through the metal, and everything went dark.

  Chapter Seven

  3rd Waning Autumn Moon, Year 4369

  Elias stood on top of the ridge overlooking the bowl-like valley that sat at the foot of the great Stromgard mountain. Its slopes started out gradually, rising well above the level of the ridge he stood on, before climbing steeply to the rocky inclines of the mountain. The central peak towered above the surrounding mountains like an unbelievably large sentinel.

  To the west of the main peak was a lower peak, not nearly as prominent, with a sunken region between it and the taller point. It was said amongst the Northmen that the mountain once breathed fire, much like the islands of Greenreef, but if that was the case, it had long since gone cold. Since then, snow-covered both peaks and a considerable portion of the lower slopes, even during the summer months.

  The forest covered the ridge, and the mountains around the valley, but the lowlands were all bare, having been harvested long ago by the Northmen for their building and farming. Most of the fields were empty, dotted by the cut off stalks of the recent harvest; however, there were a few fields bearing gourds, pumpkins, and squash, waiting to be harvested. On the slopes of the ridge below them were vineyards, their ancient vines twisting around trellises, bunches of grapes ready to be plucked, pressed, and fermented into wine.

  All in all, it looked suspiciously like there had been no rebellion, and certainly like there was no siege or battle in progress. No pennants flew over the great hall, no banners decorated the stone wall that surrounded the city, when there had once been the Valtheim sigil adorning each broad, low, square tower that buttressed the walls.

  It didn't feel right.

  Elias turned and headed back towards the encampment, which was on the gentle southern slope of the ridge. It was similar in setup to the camp at Rockhill, with the dwarves setting their tents in straight, orderly lines, while the elves tended to cluster around various fire pits. They had chosen the site because of excellent visibility through the trees, which also served to deter any cavalry attacks; the Northmen preferred to raid on horseback, and the trees would interfere with a charge.