Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2)

by Brandon Cornwell

  They impacted the ground on their sides, the blow breaking their death grip apart. Sargoth rolled through the dying wall of flames he had created to keep the cavalry away from the infantry, while the black dragon bounced once and landed on its back. It quickly flipped to its feet, while Sargoth rolled to face it. They circled for a moment, before Sargoth breathed a jet of flame directly at his opponent. The fire was so hot that it was white, and it hurt Elias's eyes to look at it, the heat palpable even at this distance.

  He was brought back to the reality of his situation as an armored knight with a sword and shield rushed him, taking a swipe at his left side. He brought his blade up to counter, gripping it with both hands, and parried a few of the man's strikes. When the knight readdressed, Elias pressed the attack hard, battering the knight's sword and shield with a series of powerful two-handed strikes. Driving him back, Elias reached forward, grabbing the knight's shield, and jerked him forward, causing him to stumble. He kept his footing, however, and Elias's sword point found no purchase on the knight's armor.

  Elias stepped back, his blade between them, pointed at the visor on the man's helmet, which was barely visible above the edge of the knight's shield. He stood out of reach of Elias's sword, his left foot and shield leading, his sword arm held back, ready to strike, and he slowly circled to Elias's right. Elias held his ground, turning to face the armored soldier, and as soon as the man stepped forward to strike, he lunged forward, the flat of his blade sliding above the knight's shield as it lowered slightly, and drove the point into the man's gorget, impaling his neck. The knight's sword struck Elias hard on the side, but did not penetrate his breastplate. Elias took the blow, grunting, and jerked his sword back, half pulling the knight with it. The man collapsed, clutching at his throat, blood spurting out between the fingers of his gauntlet as he gagged.

  Elias heard a familiar shout, and rushed towards it. It was Jonas, who had his back to a tree near the edge of the woodline. Ten soldiers surrounded him and one other, who stood side by side, fending off enemy strikes with their blades. As Elias closed on the group, fighting his way through the throng of battle, several of the soldiers rushed towards Jonas and his companion, and were soundly beaten back, one of them falling from his wounds. Jonas's companion rushed forward, performing a coup de grace on the dying soldier, a flash of wavy black hair visible from between the backs of the surrounding men.

  Elias hit them like a shot from a dwarven cannon, cleaving through the neck of one man and into the shoulder of another with his first blow. He reversed his momentum, slamming the pommel of his greatsword against the face of a third man to his right, then drove the point of his blade through the stomach of a fourth, to his left. The remaining men scattered, keeping their distance.

  Jonas's companion was Jenna, her hands and leather armor covered in blood. Elias couldn't tell if any of it was hers, but her black eyes were fierce, her jaw locked in a scowl.

  “Elias, we have to retreat!” she said, her tone urgent.

  Jonas slapped away a seeking blade with his own, and ran the owner through with a perfect riposte.

  Elias turned back towards the battle. “Brandt is still out there, and I haven't found Geoff!”

  Jenna grabbed his arm. “Trust in your warriors to see after themselves! You can't fight the whole battle! If we don't fall back now, we will all be killed!”

  Sargoth and the black dragon were rolling around on the stone field, kicking up dust and shaking the ground with their fight. Sargoth rolled onto his back, and started raking his back talons across the stomach of the other dragon, clamping his jaws around its neck. Blood and dust coated his silver scales, fire and sunlight reflecting off of what was still bare. He rolled again, throwing the dragon off of him, and then leapt on its back. He bit down on the joint of the other dragon's wing, where it joined its shoulder, and gave a mighty heave, tearing the limb free. It hung there, attached by limp, tattered wing leather, while the black dragon roared in pain, and tried to buck Sargoth off of his back. Sargoth snapped his head back, and ripped the wing all the way free, dropping it on the ground. He roared at the black dragon as it turned to face him, teeth bared and head low, every spine on his back fully upright, making him look like a silver porcupine.

  Jenna pulled on his arm again. “Elias! Give the order to withdraw!”

  Snapping back to the present, Elias turned back to the battle. “Men of Valtheim, fall back into the forest! Fall back! Rally to me!” His powerful voice boomed over the battlefield, over the rage of the fighting. He repeated his call as he fell back into the forest himself, and he saw the tides shift as the remnants of Valtheim's army pulled back. He could hear the armies of the lesser lords cheer as they followed, pursuing Valtheim's army towards the forest.

  When most of his men were at the treeline, Elias called out again. “Hold the trees! Push them back! Wounded to the rear! Hold the trees!”

  Jonas moved north, repeating Elias's orders, and Jenna to the south. Someone ran up to him, and Elias turned. It was Martin.

  “Elias, I found Geoff. He's wounded, pike butt to the head and slash on the leg!”

  Elias pointed away from the battle. “Get him and the rest of the wounded out of harm's way! We have to hold this treeline until they withdraw!”

  With Elias issuing orders, the Valtheim soldiers held the trees, forming a battle line and pushing the soldiers of the lesser lords away from the trees and into the field. As the attacking army was beaten back, there was a momentary lull in the fighting.

  A great gout of flame hammered down on the line of soldiers in the field, igniting grass, ground, and soldiers alike. Some of the trees that the Valtheim soldiers took shelter under caught fire as well, and Valtheim's warriors fell back away from them as the flames spread. Sargoth wheeled overhead, his shiny silver scales covered in mud and blood. At the end of the battle line, he turned back, and started another strafing run of flames, the fire pouring over the scattering soldiers like a hungry liquid, devouring everything in its path.

  “Fall back! Back to the camp!” Elias shouted, and his men broke from battle, fleeing the blaze. He took one last look past the line of dragonfire, and saw a detachment of cavalry break from the battle and ride hard south. Between the cavalry and the flames, the black dragon lay on the ground, its neck nearly severed where it joined its body. The mutilated beast was still kicking, its back legs spasming in death.

  Cinders started falling on Elias, and he looked up. The dragonfire blaze was beginning to spread through the tops of the trees. He turned his back on the battle and fled with his soldiers.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elias stood in the camp with the rest of the surviving soldiers. A thin smoke filtered through the trees, obscuring any threats that might be moving towards them. They may have annihilated the armies of the lesser lords during their escape, but Gerulf's army was still very present. Sargoth had set the western edge of the forest on fire, but how long that would hold them back, nobody knew.

  Right now, Elias had the soldiers breaking camp and stabilizing their wounded. There were many men who needed to have their wounds treated before they would be able to travel. Geoff was working as best he could, his face pale, shaking his head to clear his vision as he stitched cuts, bandaged wounds, and applied tourniquets. Geoff's own wounds were hastily dressed, but he had lost a significant amount of blood during the retreat.

  There was still no sign of Brandt, or any of the cavalry that had escaped. Elias didn't know if his friend had survived or not. He desperately wanted to return to the field and search for him, but that would be suicide, especially if Gerulf's army were descending upon them. He had to swallow his worry and direct the surviving soldiers back to safety.

  Of the six thousand men and dwarves that had marched west, less than a thousand remained, split nearly evenly between dwarves and men. As far as he could tell, Sargoth's final assault had eradicated the remainder, or at least the vast majority of the armies of the lesser holds, Waldgebeit, Hohlhaus, and Steinha
us. Elias had not seen any of the other lords once the fighting had started; perhaps the cowards had fled once the order had been given to betray Brandt.

  Elias gritted his teeth, a white-hot rage burning up inside of his heart. He would lay their houses low as soon as he was able. The first order of business, though, was getting these people back to Valtheim.

  The ballistas had been captured or destroyed, and there were few horses left, as most of those had been ridden into battle. There were, however, a number of good carts, more than they had horses for, but enough to transport the wounded that couldn't march and what supplies they had been able to salvage.

  Jonas and Martin were directing the minutiae of the retreat, loading men on carts and sending men back east as quickly as they could, each cart with a small detachment of soldiers to act as guards on the road. They were able to move much faster than the entire army had, and would be able to make Valtheim in four days, rather than the five it had taken them the first time around.

  When the last of the wounded were loaded onto wagons, Elias saw them off, and was surprised to find Jenna on it. Jonas accompanied it, sitting beside her on the cart, her head on his lap.

  “I did not know that you were wounded,” Elias exclaimed. “What happened?”

  Jenna shrugged, her eyes heavy. “We went to war, and were betrayed. People died. I wasn't one of them. At least, not yet.”

  Jonas shushed her, his aged face lined deeper with worry. “She took a shallow thrust to the side. Just a flesh wound, but deep enough to make her bleed.”

  She reached a hand up to his cheek and patted it. “You're just jealous that another man put something hard in my belly, instead of you,” she crooned, her half lidded eyes focusing on Jonas's face.

  Jonas smiled, clasping her hand and bringing it back down to lie at her side. “Hush now, lover, I need you to rest. It's a long bumpy road, and those stitches were hasty.” He looked up at Elias. “This was close, Redwood. And if they chase us, we might not make it back to Valtheim.”

  Almost as if on cue, Sargoth landed in the clearing behind them. He limped once he was on the ground and he had several large scratches on his shoulders and neck, but he seemed energetic enough. His scales were deeply marred in many places, and some were missing, revealing bloody patches of hide underneath, but he seemed to be in better shape overall than many of Valtheim's surviving warriors.

  “Elias, they have a wizard amongst them. Red-robed, wielding fire as Quartz does stone.”

  Elias curse, slamming his fist on the side rail of the cart. “Dammit! How long until he's upon us?”

  “She. I think. At this moment, she is in Steinhalt. When I left, she hadn't begun chasing you. So if she left immediately thereafter, she is perhaps two hours behind us.”

  Elias gritted his teeth, racking his brain. “There has to be a way to slow them down, to give us more time to retreat.”

  Sargoth looked back towards Steinhalt. “Well... she may not even be pursuing you. Like I said, I don't know. However, I can set the forest to burn behind you. That would definitely slow down anyone trying to follow you, unless she can quench fire as well as she can create it. I can do that at speed, and from the air, now that I'm the only dragon in the sky.”

  Elias nodded. “That's a good start. We'll be on our way then. Will you follow behind us, or meet us back at Valtheim?”

  Sargoth stretched, wincing. “I'll follow behind you. I could fly the whole way, but it would be more than I'd like to do, and you could use the escort.”

  Elias stepped over, and set a hand on Sargoth's enormous shoulder. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Sargoth dipped his head. “You are welcome, tiny giant.”

  Elias turned to go back to the cart, but Sargoth stopped him. “You should now, Elias, that the stink of the Felle was thick on the castle here as well.”

  Elias furrowed his brow. “Orcs and ogres? Trolls? Why didn't we see them on the battlefield?”

  Sargoth shook his head. “Not those beasts. The Felle. They smell of the Abyss, whether they are man, elf, wizard, or beast. There was an agent of the Felle here today, and I do not think it was the wizard.”

  Sargoth turned and paced far enough away that his draft wouldn't blow anyone off of their feet, and leapt into the air. In seconds, he was gone from sight, obscured by the thin, smoky haze. Elias took the lead of one of the horses pulling the cart bearing Jonas and Jenna, and started back down the road to Valtheim, troubled thoughts filling his mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Full Frost Moon, Year 4369

  Valtheim stood, stark and gray in the valley, illuminated by the full moon. They had decided to push through the night, as the way was clear, and their wounded were suffering from the cold. Scouts from Valtheim had met them on the road with torches, and escorted them back to the city, while riders went ahead to inform Eira of their defeat at Steinhalt.

  Elias's feet ached, and his back hurt. Every step felt like a strike to his heels from a club, and his pack seemed heavier than it rightfully should. After the second day on the road without pursuit, he had opted to leave his armor on a wagon, which significantly lessened his load, but the journey had been long nonetheless. The burns on his stomach and chest hurt, and he had been unable to change the dressing on them during the trek, what with their medical supplies running low. After four days on the road and in pain, Valtheim was a welcome sight; hopefully, Brandt and his horsemen had already arrived, though they hadn't passed the returning soldiers on the road.

  Elias feared the worst.

  Eira met them at the gate. She said nothing about her son's missing presence and immediately began directing the wounded to healers. Most of the men and dwarves who arrived at Valtheim required medical treatment, and the surgeons were hard at work well into the next day.

  Elias was sitting beside Jenna's bed with Jonas when Tataramoa found him. The blue-skinned warrior walked silently up to Elias and knelt in front of him.

  “Kaiwhakaora, I am glad you have returned. When I heard that the battle had been lost, I feared that you had been killed.”

  Elias shook his head. “Thank you, my friend. Thousands died, but I was barely scratched.”

  The warrior glanced down at Elias's leg, where a new bandage covered the spear wound on his thigh.

  Elias waved his hand. “Hardly a flesh wound.”

  Tataramoa looked up. “Then the gods have smiled upon you.”

  Elias frowned, looking down at Jenna. She was asleep, having drunk a potion to numb her pain. “I don't know about that. I would rather that they had granted us a victory. Instead, we were betrayed. Our enemies used exactly our same tactics against us... they made us believe we were among allies and turned on us as soon as the battle started.”

  Tataramoa bowed his head. “We should have been at that battle. It was selfish of us to hide here and save ourselves.”

  Elias shook his head vigorously. “No, Tatar. It is better that you and your people avoided the slaughter. Valtheim needed your sharp eyes to defend it while the rest of us were away. You'd have been killed with the rest of us.”

  Tataramoa frowned. “That may have been. But I promise now, my bow and my spear will always be at your side. You will never need me again, and find me missing.”

  Elias sat his hand on the warrior's shoulder. “I appreciate your valor, my friend. I know that I will have no truer comrade on the field than you.”

  Tataramoa bowed, and excused himself, leaving Elias and Jonas alone with Jenna. Jonas looked up at Elias, holding Jenna's hand in his.

  “You're getting pretty good at this leader thing.”

  Elias furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

  Jonas tipped his head towards the door where Tataramoa had exited. “A younger Elias would have argued with Tataramoa until you were as blue in the face as the sea elf, instead of just letting him say what's in his heart. You made him feel wanted, needed there, instead of brushing his offer away. It was the right thing to do.”


  Elias nodded. “I could not think of a better way to put him at ease. It was better that he and the rest of his people were not there. They would have been massacred along with the rest of us.”

  Jonas sighed. “Maybe. Maybe not. At least we few made it back alive. And at least we kept the bulk of our army here.”

  Elias sat back in his chair. “But with Brandt gone, either captured, dead, wounded, or gods know what, who will lead them?”

  ~ ~ ~

  Eira sat in the great hall, on the chair next to her son's throne. The room was empty except for her, Elias, Jonas, and Martin. Jenna was still asleep, and Geoff was recovering along with the rest of the wounded.

  The queen sat, composed, her beautiful features stiff and neutral. “Elias, tell me of the events on the battlefield. What happened that we lost the battle, when we brought a far superior force to bear on Gerulf of Steinhalt?”

  Elias stood before the queen, his feet at shoulder's width, and his hands clasped behind his back. While he was not technically her subject any longer and was not required to report to her, she had spent forty years as his queen, and he did not mind.

  “The march to Steinhalt was uneventful, my queen. Brandt was in good spirits when we met a messenger from Lord Trevor of Waldgebeit. He informed us that his lord, as well as Einman of Steinhaus and Gevalt of Hohlhaus, was ready and waited for us near the field of battle. We struck camp that night two hours from Steinhalt field.”

  Elias took a breath before continuing. “When Brandt led the charge the next morning. Valtheim's riders were with him in the vanguard, with the cavalry of the lesser lords flanking them. Before they crossed the field to engage Steinhalt's soldiers, Brandt and his men were set upon by our allies. When the cavalry turned on us, so did the infantry, and fighting broke out in our ranks. We were taken completely by surprise.”

  Eira nodded, her face firm. “And this is why the dragon was unable to assist you. The enemies were within your own ranks.”