Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2)

by Brandon Cornwell

  “Quickly! Back to the city!” Elias called out as the soldiers who were strengthening the fortifications ran towards the gate. “Fall back to the city!”

  Arrows started hitting the ground around him, and he instinctively ducked, shielding his head with his hands. He was wearing his dragon skin tunic, which he hoped would protect him from any stray arrows, but the rest of his friends weren't so lucky.

  Sargoth leapt to his feet, stretching his wings out, sheltering them from the falling missiles. “Get to the gates, I'll hold them back here. It takes more than a man with a spear or a bow to bring me down.” He inhaled and belched a ball of flame towards the charging men, who scattered away from its path. Sargoth reared up on his hind legs, flapping his wings, sending rushing winds towards the enemy soldiers as Elias and his companions made their escape, Jonas wrapping an arm around Jenna as they fled.

  Though the main gate was on the eastern side of the city, each wall had a smaller door, large enough for a carriage to pass through, near the center. Elias and his friends reached it just before it was barred. Once everyone else had gotten through, Elias turned back to look to Sargoth. The soldiers had gotten much closer, nearly two-thirds of the way to the city, and Sargoth was sending gouts of flame at them as he stepped backwards towards the wall.

  There was a flash from the woodline, then what seemed like a swirling ball of red energy appeared at the edge of the trees. As it grew thicker and brighter, a single beam of crimson energy bolted down from the sky and struck the orb with a loud crack! The red orb swirled faster and faster, then burst outward, igniting several trees. Where it had been, the ground was scorched bare and smoking, and a figure dressed in bright scarlet robes stood.

  Sargoth turned his head to face the figure, growled, and lowered his head, taking another step back. The spines running up his back bristled, and his wings poised to take flight. The figure held up its hand, and a huge bolt of red energy shot forth. Sargoth barely leapt out of the way, struggling into the air as the bolt slammed into the wall, scorching and cracking the stone, making the entire structure shudder.

  Sargoth spat a burst of flame at the red-cloaked wizard, who waved a hand, causing it to dissipate. The dragon followed up with another, and wheeled away. That fireball too was waved away, and the wizard hurled another bolt of energy at the dragon, striking a glancing blow to his flank. He rolled in the air, roaring in pain, and climbed higher, winging to the clouds. Meanwhile, the enemy soldiers had nearly reached the wall. Gritting his teeth, Elias grabbed the thick wooden door and slammed it shut, dropping the heavy beam in place and barring the gate.

  He could hear the soldiers on the other side shouting as they reached the door. He leaned against the barrier, holding it as best he could while the soldiers started hacking at the thick oak planks with axes.

  “Stone! Bring stone blocks! The bigger, the better!”

  Townsfolk were rushing about, taking cover from the occasional arrow that made it over the walls, as the sea elves fired down at the enemies that were surrounding the city. As Elias barked out orders, some of them started loading large blocks into a cart, and pushed it over to the wall. The timbers on the door were thick, but the axes on the other side were getting more and more insistent. As the cart arrived, Elias grabbed the largest stones and set them on the ground in front of the door. He pointed at the tunnel. “Fill it with stones, as quickly as you can! Even if you have to shove carts in and leave them, I want this passage blocked!”

  The frightened townsfolk nodded, and hurried about their task as he sprinted towards the stairs that led to the top of the wall. Once he reached the battlements, he looked out over the battlefield. Instinctively, he ducked, just as an arrow whizzed past where his head had been an instant before. Several wounded or dead sea elves lay on the path, while the rest doggedly returned fire, picking off archers with their well-aimed arrows.

  The wall shuddered again, and Elias saw the crimson-robed wizard playing a beam of fiery magic across the stone, scorching it, the stone chipping and shattering under the onslaught. If this continued for too long, their wall would come down, and the soldiers would rush in. He looked out over the army that had come against them.

  There were too many for Elias to count. He had no idea where all of these men had come from; even if they were to put together Gerulf's forces with Adalhard and the three lesser lord's remaining troops, there should not be these many men. How had they come upon them without being detected? They had had scouts on the northern and western ridged, where the army of rebel Northmen were pouring, and they had received no word of their approach.

  Elias grabbed a loose brick that had fallen next to him, and blindly hurled it over the wall into the growing mass of Northmen at the base. He heard a cry of pain as it struck a soldier. The wall shuddered again, and one of the battlements toppled off, falling to crush another enemy below. Elias felt a cold, clammy fear clutch his stomach as cracks formed in the stone at his feet.

  Chapter Fifteen

  2nd Waning Frost Moon, Year 4369

  Elias grabbed a stone off of the small pile next to him and hurled it downward. He could hear the screams as it crushed one of the axemen who was hacking at the wooden door directly below him. He ducked behind the battlement as another volley of arrows shrieked towards him, some of them striking the wall, others whistling overhead into the city. He grabbed another stone in his massive hands, about twice the size of his head and shaped like a brick. He took a deep breath and stood up, picking his target quickly. He threw the stone down as hard as he could and ducked back behind the wall.

  Another volley of arrows flew over the wall, but these missiles were tipped with flame. They struck the thatch roofs, sticking into the framework underneath, the fire spreading quickly. Immediately there were cries of panic from down below, and people began rushing to the well to draw water to quench the flames.

  “Jonas!” Elias shouted, hoping the older man was nearby enough to hear him. One of the sea elves next to him fell back, landing hard on the stone blocks of the wall, an arrow embedded in his eye, gasping his final breath. Elias looked at him for a moment, before taking the bow and quiver from the fallen warrior. Nocking an arrow, he stood and took aim at the red mage. He overdrew the arrow, the bow creaking in his hand, and loosed it. It flew straight and true, but just before it struck the red-robed figure, it burst into flame and was blown away as ash. The figure looked towards him, and he swore he could see a smile under its hood. The mage raised a hand, and a beam of red magic shot forth. He ducked behind the wall just before the bolt struck him, shielding his head from bits of stone and ash that were blasted away from the battlement. The hacking on the gate below resumed while he took shelter behind the wall.

  He reached out and grabbed the arm of a soldier who was jogging along the wall, keeping his head low.

  “Find Jonas, tell him to lead the fire control effort! After that, find Martin, tell him to shore up each of the lesser gates! Stones, wagons, lumber, anything to block off those passages!”

  The wall shuddered again, and Elias released his hold on the man's arm.

  “Yes, my lord! I will, my lord!” The man sprinted off, hurrying down the steps as another volley of flaming arrows streaked by overhead.

  Looking to his left, Elias saw that one of the ballistas they had left behind was still set up, but was unmanned on the broad tower. Nearby, there was a pile of shone shot, and several long spears with large, iron heads. In a near crouch, Elias ran over to the machine and looked it over. This ballista was currently set up for the spears, rather than the stone shot, so Elias hastily winched the cup into position and pinned it. Grabbing a spear, he slapped it in place, then moved to the back of the machine.

  A hail of arrows descended upon him, and he flinched away, barely jerking his hand back as an arrow sought to pin it to a thick beam. He gripped the handles at the rear of the machine, and swung it around, seeking out the red mage. The figure was just visible over the battlements, and Elias lined up t
he sighting pins on the front of the machine with the bright scarlet robes. Using his best judgment, he moved the front of the ballista upward, then slammed the mallet down on the pin board.

  The whole machine rocked with the force of the release, sending the spear hurtling forward so hard Elias was surprised it didn't shatter the haft. It took on a fantastic spin, much like an arrow, as it streaked through the sky towards the mage. His aim had been true; the spear had a similar flight arc as an arrow. The figure turned as the arrow approached, and leapt to the side, falling to the ground as the spear struck the barrier around the mage, the haft bursting into flame, but carrying through nonetheless. It buried itself into the ground just behind where the mage had stood. If the figure hadn't moved, it would have been pinned to the ground.

  A great roar came from overhead, and Elias looked up to see Sargoth in a freefall, his wings outstretched, coming in towards the red mage. He opened his mouth and sent forth a burst of flame that wreathed back around him, cloaking him almost entirely in dragonfire. He looked like a giant fireball with a silver tail hurtling towards the ground. Just before he struck the mage, there was a blinding red flash and a gust of searing hot wind that threatened to bowl Elias off his feet, even on top of the tower as he was.

  Elias shielded his eyes, blinking away the flash burn in his vision. The ground around the mage was blasted bare and smoking, billowing waves of flame still radiating outward from the impact. Sargoth was rolling away as if he'd been thrown, while the wizard lay prone on the ground again, struggling to its feet. The hood of the mage's robes had been thrown back, revealing bright red hair, long and curly, and even at this distance, Elias could make out feminine features. This must be the female red fire wizard Sargoth had encountered at Steinhalt.

  The mage was slowly climbing to her feet as Sargoth was doing the same, and Elias snapped out of his distraction. Cranking the ballista back again, he jammed the pin into the catch and loaded another spear. He took aim at the mage and grabbed the mallet to fire, when a grappling hook flew up over the wall, the attached rope falling between two close battlements. The hook rattled across the stone as the rope hissed back over the edge, clanking against the bricks as it caught on the wall. Elias sprinted to the wall and looked over the edge. Several more grappling hooks flew over the battlements and snagged on the stone, one of them catching on the ballista itself, jerking its aim askew.

  Elias grabbed the first hook in his hand and hauled upward. He could feel that someone was already climbing it, and he gritted his teeth, heaving up with all of his strength. Once he got it over the top of the battlement, he released it, throwing it out over the edge of the wall. There was a short yell then a thump, and Elias moved on to the next hook. He moved along the wall, dislodging the grapples as he went, then returned to the ballista.

  The mage was back on her feet by the time he took aim at her again, and was facing off against Sargoth. He was snarling at her, swiping with his claws, sparks flying where they made contact with her invisible shield. The dragon tried swatting at her from the side, but it was as if he had slapped a boulder, and the mage didn't move at all. He jerked his hand back, smoke and sparks rising from where he struck the invisible barrier.

  Elias fired the spear and watched as it shattered against the mage's protection. Apparently, she had changed to a different kind of shield, but at least her distraction kept her from sending those bolts against the walls.

  More grappling hooks were catching on the top of the wall, and he wouldn't be able to keep up with them. Reaching to his belt, he drew his trusty knife, and started sawing through the ropes as quickly as he could. He wished now that he hadn't left his sword in his quarters for the meeting. He needed it now.

  He was able to cut four ropes before the first man mounted the wall, and more were landing, faster than he could cut the grappling hooks free. He met the attacker as he vaulted over the battlements, catching his sword hand and thrusting the knife into the man's chest, under his sternum, stabbing him multiple times as he punched him. He bore the soldier to the ground and stripped him of his longsword. It might not be as long or powerful as his greatsword, but it was better than a knife.

  He shouted to the city inside the walls. “Men, to the walls! They're breaching the walls!”

  Three more soldiers leapt over the ramparts and rushed towards him. The longsword in his hand felt minuscule, but he used it to fend them off, hammering at their swords as they pressed the attack. He ran one of the men through, barely withdrawing in time to block a strike from the second man, then countered a hard overhand from the third. He squared off again and prepared to push back, but arrows sank into both men's backs, dropping them to the ground with agonized expressions on their faces.

  Tataramoa sprinted to Elias, flanked by a squad of dwarven axemen, and he carried Elias's greatsword on his shoulder. “Hurry, take it! It is too heavy!” the warrior grunted, straining under the weight of the weapon.

  Elias lifted the sword off of Tataramoa's shoulder, and the sea elf visibly relaxed from the burden of the sword's considerable weight. Elias gripped the handle, and heard something behind him. More men were mounting the walls, but soldiers from Valtheim had come to their aid. Northern soldiers and dwarves began flooding the walls, sweeping up the staircases and fanning out from the towers, throwing the attacking soldiers back over the battlements or killing them where they stood, skewered by swords or cleaved by axes.

  There was a roar, and Sargoth hurtled by overhead, winging past just above the wall. His tail barely cleared the top of the great hall as he flew over the city. A red beam of energy lanced after him, but fizzled out before it could reach him. Elias looked out to the field, and the red mage was kneeling, her hood still cast back, pointing her hand at the wall. Another beam shot out and slammed into the wall, but it was weaker than before; though it blackened the wall where it struck, it didn't seem to chip the stone, and the wall shuddered less than it had before.

  The mage moved her hands to either side, her palms facing up, and as she curled her hands into fists, she started to glow a bright, crimson red. The same swirling sphere of light as before surrounded her as she walked slowly towards Valtheim, becoming brighter as it moved and grew. The remaining grass around her instantly burst into flame, and the sphere grew even more brilliant. Soon, it seemed as though a second sun was burning in the field near the trees, and the forest around the mage was catching fire. Elias could swear that he could feel the heat, even from as far away as he was.

  He swung his blade at a nearby enemy soldier, crushing the man's breastplate with the blow. Thrusting forward, the tip of his sword punched through the metal and into the soldier's heart, making him drop the spear he was bringing to bear on Elias. The giant elf wrenched his blade free, and was thrown to the ground by a shockwave and a deafening blast.

  A beam of red energy had burst from the mage's red sphere, and slammed into the western wall, destroying it. The middle of the wall sagged, then collapsed into an enormous pile of rubble, flowing into and out of the city, crushing houses, soldiers, sea elves, dwarves, and townsfolk indiscriminately.

  There was an eerie silence; the only sound Elias could hear was a loud ringing in his ears. Gradually, the screams of the wounded and dying reached him, and he numbly stood, miraculously still gripping his sword. All around him, men and elves were climbing to their feet, shaking off the blast. However, in the field outside of the now shattered city wall, thousands of shouts grew to an ear-splitting cacophony. The mass of enemy soldiers surged forth, funneling towards the breach in the wall. Elias glanced out at the place where the red robed mage had been.

  The forest around her was on fire, but falling away from her; no chance of her being consumed in her own firestorm. She lay on the ground, not moving, crumpled where she had fallen. If he had the chance, now would be the time to put a ballista bolt through her. Unfortunately, the enemy soldiers flooding into Valtheim were a much more pressing matter. He sprinted towards the destroyed section of wall,
and haphazardly scrambled over the shattered stone blocks until he could reach his enemies. Planting his feet on two stable blocks, he started hacking and slashing into the oncoming surge of men climbing over the rubble. On either side of him, arrows began raining down on the footmen, as the sea elves got back to their feet and rejoined the fight. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of fighting as the soldiers that had already made it into the city met Valtheim's defenders.

  Bodies started to pile up in front of him, and he kicked a few down the slope of the rubble, causing some of the enemy soldiers to stumble and fall. He held the high ground, and he was much more powerful than any of the men accosting the wall. A man with a shield rushed forward, holding a pike high, ready to strike. Elias chopped the head off of the weapon with a single, savage hack of his blade. The man thrust the haft anyways, catching Elias in the stomach with the broken end.

  His tunic stopped the splinters from piercing him, and he grabbed the wooden handle with his right hand. Jerking it up high and to the side, he pulled the man off balance, and brought his blade down on the soldier's head, splitting his leather helmet in two. The soldier spasmed and fell backward, dropping his pike handle and shield.

  Elias looked up just in time to see a volley of arrows rising in flight, soaring towards him. Quickly, he dropped the pike handle, grabbed the dead man's shield, and crouched under it. The iron-headed arrows struck the stone all around him, and buried themselves into the leather-covered wooden shield, some of them pushing through. One such arrow struck a glancing blow to his forearm, but the dragonskin of his gauntlet stopped it from causing any more than a bruise.