Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2)

by Brandon Cornwell

  Jenna scowled. “Jonas is going to stay here. There's no reason for him to go. Someone else can take his place.”

  Jonas lifted an eyebrow, glancing down at Jenna. “Excuse me, love, but if I told you what to do, you'd scalp me. If I decide to go, then I decide to go.”

  Jenna glared up at Jonas. “And who's to say I won't scalp you when you get back? If you get back?”

  Jonas scoffed. “Then you'll share a bed with a bald man.” He looked up at Quartz. “I'll be ready when you need me.”

  Jenna rose from her seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Jonas sat in his chair, scowling. He glanced around the room when he noticed everyone was looking at him.

  “What? I don't like being told.”

  Tataramoa chuckled. “Some say that a man who quarrels with his mate sleeps better in the rain than in his own bed.”

  Jonas snorted. “Some others say that a man who does what his woman tells him to included his balls in the bride price.”

  Brandt laughed and shook his head. “I don't envy you her wrath, Jonas.”

  Elias set his hand on the older man's shoulder. “She just worries for you.”

  Jonas sighed. “I know. We'll fight tonight, no doubt, but she'll see me off.”

  Quartz had remained quiet during the exchange, watching Jenna and Jonas's interaction. She sighed, tapping her fingernails on the surface of the table. “In any case, you all have tomorrow to prepare. By noon on the day after, I will be ready. I will expect you back here at that time.”

  With their task set before them, Elias, Jonas, and Tataramoa went about their business. Elias was apprehensive but excited. He had never traveled by magical means before, and though he was somewhat anxious about it, the thought of it thrilled him, as did dealing a blow to the man who had kidnapped his best friend's wife.

  The news about the Felle and their origins, though, worried him. How was he supposed to fight an army that wouldn't stay dead?

  ~ ~ ~

  4th Waxing Frost Moon, Year 4369

  Elias, Jonas, and Tataramoa stood with Quartz outside of her chambers, with Brandt, Geoff, Martin, and Jenna nearby to see them off. Each member of the rescue team had selected what gear they expected to come in useful; each had a length of rope with a grappling hook at the end, and both Elias and Tataramoa carried bows and a quiver of arrows. Elias had chosen his dragon skin tunic and vambraces, while Jonas wore his metal studded leather.

  Tataramoa had opted to trade his traditional sea elven armor for a hardened leather breastplate and leather breeches, though he decided to forgo the gambeson. He shifted uncomfortably in his leather boots.

  “The blanket suit rubs me until I am raw. I can't move when I wear it,” he said sheepishly when Jonas asked him about it.

  “And the leather doesn't?”

  The sea elf shrugged, adjusting the clothing as best he could, scowling slightly. “Your winters are cold. I miss my islands.”

  Elias gripped his shoulder reassuringly. “With any luck, we should be done and back to Valtheim before long.” He looked up at Quartz. “We are ready.”

  Jenna stepped forward, the anger and frustration plain on her face. Gripping Jonas by the front of his armor, she pulled him close, and kissed him, aggressively. Pulling back, she slapped him resoundingly on the cheek.

  “Come back to me, old man,” she growled.

  Jonas winced, rubbing his cheek. “Yes ma'am.”

  Quartz turned and stepped into her chamber, beckoning for the three warriors to enter. When Elias and his companions had followed her, she closed the door and barred it. The candles at each point of the diagram on the floor had been replaced, and were flickering in the darkness of the room. In the center was a fire pot, with glowing coals casting an eerie red light over the sigils.

  “Normally,” she said, “I would be doing this during one of the auspicious times of the month, either on a full moon or a solstice or equinox, to aid in my casting. However, time is of the essence. Stand there, there, and there.” She indicated several circles that had been drawn on the ground, integrated with the design and oriented to the north, south, east and west points of the star.

  “I am going to work a ritual to move us to Tiefuhr. During this time, I need you to stay within your circles. No matter what you see, you must not leave the boundaries, until we stop moving. We will be traveling very quickly, and if you step out of the circle, you will be lost. Do you understand?”

  The three warriors nodded, and Elias felt his stomach clench. The largest circle was on the western point, so he stood within it. It seemed almost too small to contain him, but he did his best to fit entirely within the lines.

  Quartz crouched next to the fire pot, and drew a pouch from inside her cloak. Opening the drawstring, she upended the contents, a fine white powder, onto the coals. Immediately, an intensely hot green and blue flame leapt up, causing Elias to wince and cover his eyes. He was reminded of when he had seen Marl use a similar powder to create colored flames on Greenreef.

  Quartz glanced up at him, a slight frown on her lips. “It might be easier for you if you closed your eyes.”

  Elias nodded, closing his eyes. The heat from the fire was nearly painful, and the smell of charred metal and harsh smoke filled the room. He heard Jonas cough, and then the heat died down, the light from the other side of his eyelids dimming.

  He almost opened his eyes, when he suddenly felt a rush, and a wave of vertigo. A gale-force wind battered him, and he struggled to stay still against it. The smell of smoke was replaced with cold air and the smell of the mountains, pine trees and clay, stone and river spray. Snow struck him, stinging his face, and he tensed, fear knotting in his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut, weathering the onslaught when abruptly, it stopped.

  He opened his eyes and caught his breath. Wiping away the water that rimmed his eyelids, he looked around. They had arrived in a small clearing, surrounded by dense forest, a thick layer of snow covering the ground and piling up on the firs and pines that surrounded them, bending their branches downward.

  Jonas coughed and fell forward, catching himself with one hand, clutching his chest and vomiting. Tataramoa moved to help him up, but Jonas waved him away.

  “No, no, I'm fine. Just out of breath.” The older man looked towards the sea elf, his eyes bleary and bloodshot. “You look cold. Positively blue. Are you feeling well?”

  The warrior chuckled, helping Jonas to his feet. “Damn your humor, old man. Are you well enough to fight?”

  Jonas wiped his beard. “The day I am not, bury me, whether I breathe or not.”

  Quartz stood nearby, her cloak wrapped tight around her. “It is best that we move now. The sun will set soon, and we are an hour's walk away from Tiefuhr.”

  Elias looked up to gauge the time. It was true; though there was thick cloud cover, the sun lit the clouds closer to the western mountains. It had been around noon when they had stepped into her chamber, and the journey felt like the work of a moment, but perhaps four or five hours had passed since then, judging by the sun.

  Elias shivered, and not entirely from the cold. Magic was beyond his understanding.

  ~ ~ ~

  The night was deepening to almost black when they reached the edge of the forest near Tiefuhr. Elias, Tataramoa, and Quartz could see well enough, but Jonas's trek was rife with muttered curses and stumbling. Tataramoa stayed near to the older man as they walked, and caught his arm more than once before he stepped into a ravine or tripped over a log, once darkness fell. The sea elf was clearly miserable, shaking with cold, but with his attention on Jonas, he seemed to be able to push through well enough.

  Elias led the way, following Quartz's directions, breaking a trail for the others to follow through the snow. He paused at the treeline, surveying the fort. Torches lit the walls, which stood at least fifty feet high, higher than Valtheim's walls, though the fort itself was smaller. Rather than surrounding a city, like Valtheim's walls did, the fort seemed entirely dedi
cated to military functions. A towering stone keep rose above the fortifications, light shining from many of the iron-barred windows.

  To the south, through the mask of the snowfall, Elias could see the muted light of a village without walls, vulnerable to attack were an army to march on Tiefuhr. Ahead of them, between the treeline and the wall, was an expanse of unbroken snow, about three hundred yards across.

  Quartz reached out, setting a hand on his arm. “It is dark enough that they will not see us cross the field, however, once we do, we must be swift. Soldiers patrol these walls every half hour; if we scale them after they pass, we have at most that long before they may find our tracks if they look over the edge.”

  Jonas stumbled behind them, catching himself by gripping Tataramoa's shoulder. Elias and Quartz looked back at him.

  “Although,” she said, raising a brow, “if their eyesight is similar to his, they will hopefully be ignorant of our passage until morning.”

  Jonas growled, standing next to her. “Just give me a direction and tell me where to go. I don't need any smart comments about my eyes, you damn bushwalking, eagle-eyed shits.”

  They moved out of the forest, and the ground was immediately more even. As the four invaders approached the wall, they could see the torches of the patrol moving from the southern tower closest to them, along the top of the wall. There were four guards, and their leisurely pace would have them reach the nearby northern tower within five minutes.

  Quartz signaled for them to drop low, and they all fell to their hands and knees, waiting for the soldiers to reach the halfway point of the wall. She beckoned them forward, and rose to a crouch. “Now! Run! To the wall and over it! Once we reach the top, we will drop down into the courtyard!”

  She started sprinting towards a point on the wall that was about fifty yards from the southern tower, and Elias followed suit, Tataramoa and Jonas behind him. He kept pace so that he would not leave them behind, but his longer legs carried him faster than Quartz.

  They reached the wall simultaneously, and readied their ropes. They were using the same padded grappling hooks that they had used to infiltrate Valtheim, so as to keep their sound to a minimum. Elias whirled his rope and hurled it upward. He heard it bounce off the wall; his aim had been off. Hurriedly, he hauled his rope back in, and readied another throw.

  Tataramoa's hook caught, as did Jonas's. The old man tugged on it to test its strength, and chuckled under his breath. “Not bad for a half blind, clumsy old man, eh, you giant ass?”

  Jonas started climbing his rope as Quartz's hook caught on the wall above, and Elias threw his grapple again. This time, his aim was true, and the hook caught between two raised battlements, in an arrow slit. He tugged on it, and started his climb.

  His powerful arms hauled him up much faster than the other three, and he was the first one to the top, despite his later start. He looked around, but besides the tracks in the snow from the recent passage of the soldiers, there was nobody to see him. He reached over, gripping Tataramoa's hand, hauling him over the edge. The nimble sea elf landed silently, then reached over to assist Jonas while Elias lifted Quartz onto the snow-covered stone.

  Jonas caught his breath for a moment as they surveyed their surroundings. Quartz pointed towards a small wooden door near where the keep met the western wall below them.

  “We can enter through there, where the servants come and go. There is likely to be little activity after dark.” She hauled her rope up, coiling it as she did. “Elias, gather your rope. It's too visible where it is now. Jonas, Tataramoa, pulls yours up as well. We'll use mine to drop down to the courtyard, and shake it loose when we're done.”

  As they followed her directions, Quartz attached her hook to an iron spike at the edge of the wall, and slid down. Elias followed her, with Jonas next, and Tataramoa bringing up the rear. When they all had their feet on the ground, Quartz flipped the rope, and the grapple detached, landing in the snow at her feet. She coiled it around her shoulder, the lower end at her hip, and tied it off.

  Elias followed her as she crept towards the door. When they got here, Jonas stepped forward, and pressed his ear to the wooden planks, listening for any movement inside. Drawing his sword, he gestured towards the door with his head.

  “It's quiet for now. Let's go.”

  Turning the latch, he opened the door and disappeared into the warm darkness within. Quartz followed him, Tataramoa behind her, and Elias acting as rear guard, a surge of adrenaline flooding his veins. He closed the door behind himself as he entered Carloman's keep.

  Chapter Eleven

  4th Waxing Frost Moon, Year 4369

  The room they stood in was dark enough that even Elias had trouble seeing. He could vaguely make out the shapes of barrels and crates that lined either side of the room, with a clear path up the center. Underneath another door, directly across from them, there flickered the yellow light of candles. Jonas led the way, guided by the faint light, and pressed his ear to the door.

  After a few moments, he nodded and pulled the door open, moving through it with surprising stealth for a man of his age, especially with the amount of stumbling he had done when they were traveling through the forest.

  The next room was a kitchen, with tables spread around the room, and an iron cookstove off to the right, red coals glowing in its belly. Jonas signaled for the rest of them to stay put, and he checked the two doors. One led to the left, the other was on the wall across the room, directly ahead of them. Jonas checked to door to the left, cracking it open, then quietly shut it. Moving to the far door, he set his ear against it, then beckoned for the others to join him.

  Pointing to the first door, he whispered, “Servant's quarters.” He pointed to the door in front of him, held a finger to his lips, and pushed the door open.

  On the other side of the door was a long, torch-lit passage, smoke and soot coating the stone blocks of the upper walls and ceiling. No doors were in this hallway, and at the end was a flight of stairs that went up and out of view. They sneaked quickly down the passage, and made it about half of the distance before they heard a door at the top of the stairs bang open.

  As the sound of heavy boots grew closer on the stone steps, two male voices accompanying them, Elias dropped to a kneel. Jonas readied his sword, and Elias lifted his bow from his shoulder, nocking an arrow and sighting past Jonas and Quartz. They pressed themselves against the wall, clearing the corridor for him as he held his shot, waiting for a target to present itself. He heard Tataramoa's bowstring draw taut behind him as the sea elf readied his arrow as well. Elias smoothly drew back his bowstring, his stomach fluttering slightly before a familiar calm settled over him.

  The footsteps grew closer, and Elias could hear the rustle of chainmaille against metal. He continued to hold his shot as their feet came into view. He could make out their conversation as the voices came down the hall.

  “I gather she'll break soon. Hearing that Valtheim was taken took a lot of fight out of her. It's about damn time... I'm tired of carrying her food up three flights of stairs.”

  “Do you think so? She's been a right old shit ever since she got here. I don't know why Carloman doesn't just kill her and take the rest of the holds by force. Even without Gerulf and Adalhard, we've got the men to do it, what with the dark one helping us.”

  “Aye, but he's bent on her. I'll admit, I wouldn't mind giving her a right solid fuck. She might be an old bitch, but she's got an ass that would make a blind man hard, and tits like a girl half her age.”

  “You're right about that, but if Lord Carloman heard you... what the hells?”

  Elias and Tataramoa fired as soon as the soldiers' faces came into view, the arrows burying themselves into the chest of the man in front; Elias and Tataramoa had both aimed at the same soldier. As the first man fell gasping, the other soldier stepped back, reaching for his sword. As he opened his mouth to yell, Elias nocked another arrow, but Tataramoa was quicker. A blue and gold fletched arrow zipped past Elias's shoulder
, and struck the soldier in the throat, passing all the way through and striking the stairs behind him. Elias fired his bow nonetheless, burying his arrow into the man's chest, through his heart. With a gurgle, the second soldier collapsed onto the first, who was gasping his final breaths on the stone floor.

  Elias padded towards the dying men and drew a dagger from his hip. He slit each of their throats to speed and ensure their deaths. Looking back over his shoulder, he nodded to the others, who joined him at the base of the stairs.

  Quartz frowned, looking at the bodies. “If anyone sees them, or the blood, we'll be discovered.”

  Tataramoa put his bow back over his shoulder, the string across his chest. “We don't have the time to hide them.”

  Jonas sighed. “Then it would seem it is time to move quickly. Let's go then.”

  Tataramoa recovered his arrows from the dead men, and put them back in his quiver, while Elias put his bow over his shoulder as Tataramoa had done. Quartz led the way to the top of the stairs, Jonas right next to her. The door at the top had been left open, bright torchlight illuminating the hallway that led to either side of the stairs. Jonas stuck his head through, looked both ways, and ducked back. He turned to Elias and whispered, “Both directions corner after twenty feet or so. Which way do we go?”

  Quartz pointed left. “That way. There should be stairs to the third floor, and from there, we should be able to find a way to the fourth. Her chambers are on the fourth floor, next to Carloman's.”

  Tataramoa looked at her, tilting his head. “How do you know this?”

  Quartz stepped out into the hallway, checking both directions as Jonas had done. “I was a guest here at one time, with my master. Carloman wanted us in his service. We declined.” She took a few steps to the left. “Now is not the time for this discussion. We need to move, now.”