Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2)

by Brandon Cornwell

  Once the arrows stopped raining down, he cast the shield aside and stood again, facing the soldiers that were climbing the pile of rubble and bodies towards him. His vision surged red, and he let out a wordless battle cry, a challenge to the advancing soldiers, his voice echoing off of the ridges and walls of the valley and city. To his right, a familiar blue figure came into view; it was Tataramoa, his spear at the ready. Behind him, he could hear men climbing the rubble. A quick glance revealed the green marks of Valtheim's crest, as well as the broad, metal-garbed heads and shoulders of the dwarven warriors, rushing to his aid.

  Turning back towards the enemy soldiers, he let out another cry and charged down the pile of shattered stone into the crowd that surged towards him, their weapons seeking his flesh. He slapped them out of his path with his blade, crushing and cleaving his way into the throng, the sound of his men clashing with the invaders behind him. Still to his right was Tataramoa, ducking and dodging out of the way of Elias and the enemy alike, his spear like a snake, striking and withdrawing with blinding speed and accuracy. The warrior was covered with blood, though Elias was in no place to see if it was his own, or if it was the blood of the fallen.

  He gradually became aware of the fact that he was completely surrounded by men that wanted to kill him. This realization did not bother Elias; more, he reveled in it. Gripping his massive sword in both hands, he swung with all of his might, left, right, whirling to the rear, back to the front. His blows cut down one, two men at a time, slamming weapons out of the way and cleaving through armor like it was clay. In his wake was a trail of dead men, and the soldiers that followed him widened that trail, pushing the invaders out of Valtheim and back into the field. Dwarven axes brought men low, while their hammers crushed their skulls. The axes, maces and swords of Valtheim's defenders lashed out from behind shields, cleaving into any unprotected target they found. If Elias was the spearhead of their attack, they were the haft, driving him forward.

  When his feet touched the ground, Elias felt a surge of energy and exhilaration. They were making these soldiers pay for what they had done in Steinhalt, what they had done when they took Valtheim and rebelled against Brandt, for what they had done on this day. That price was steep.

  The blast to his chest took him completely by surprise.

  A single, thin jet of energy struck him just after he turned one man into roughly two half men with a powerful downward strike that took him from shoulder nearly to his hip. He was wrenching his sword free when he was hammered backwards, heat surging through his chest and rushing over his face and hands, burning him as if he had fallen into a bonfire. When he landed, it was flat on his back, his sword clattering on some stone rubble from the wall, slipping from his stunned hands.

  The red wizard stood, hunched, at the end of a cleared line through the enemy. She was staggering forward, her young features twisted in a hideous snarl. Her eyes were surrounded by the dark rings of exhaustion, her cheeks sunken as if she hadn't had enough to eat in a long time, her complexion pale. She raised her hands again, holding them like claws around an orb, her snarl deepening. She pushed her hands forward to deliver another blast, and-

  Nothing.

  Elias staggered to his feet, his sword too far away for him to grab as he stood. A confused look fluttered across the mage's face, and she pushed her hands forward again. A few sparks flickered between her fingers, but no surge of power like she had delivered before.

  A strong wind came from behind Elias and swiftly grew to a gale force, making him catch his balance and turn. Eira was behind him, but she wasn't standing on the broken wall. Instead, she was floating above it, above the soldiers, her body clothed in a white robe, lined with gray. A very pale, white-blue light shone brightly from her hands, and seemed to bathe her entire body as well. She flicked her hands up, and a gust of wind like a knife slammed down between the line of Valtheim soldiers and the attackers, stirring up a thick cloud of dust, causing everyone to step back.

  “Begone!” Eira said, her voice preternaturally powerful, thundering through the valley. It reminded him of when Quartz had been intoning before she crushed the western and northern ridges. “Valtheim and her people are not yours to kill, this day or any other! Begone!” She flicked her wrists, and the wind drove the enemy soldiers back as if it were a solid wall, away from Valtheim. A deep, chilling cold filled Elias to his bones, and his breath fogged in front of him as if it were the dead of winter already.

  The red mage held up her hands as if to ward off the wind, and it seemed for a moment like the airborne dust was starting to split around her, but her efforts collapsed, and she was shoved backwards, her feet sliding on the ground.

  Elias watched the queen, his jaw slack, as she hovered there above the similarly awestruck soldiers. A movement to his right, atop the wall, caught his eye. It was Quartz! She stood atop a battlement, her black cloak replaced with brown robes, similar in design to Eira's white ones. She spread her hands, clenching them into fists. A purple light rose around her, her hands taking on the familiar purple glow, and she gestured, savagely, as if performing some strange dance. The ground shook, and sharp spires of stone jutted out of the soil under the enemy ranks, skewering soldiers where they stood.

  The enemy soldiers started to scramble backward pushing against each other as they fled, but Quartz's assault followed them. Eira spread her fingers and turned her palms down, lowering her hands as she did so. Black clouds gathered overhead in an instant, thunder crashing above them as the chill wind grew even colder. Hail the size of cannon balls started falling on the invading soldiers as they fled, crushing them down, while Quartz's spikes struck them from the bottom. Leaving their dead littering the field, they fled to the western ridge and into the forest. Though a blaze had begun with the arrival of the red wizard, Eira's cold wind had snuffed it out just as quickly.

  The red wizard turned to flee, but a wall of stone sprang up behind her, almost striking her. To the left and right, walls leapt out of the ground, boxing her in on three sides. Quartz narrowed her glowing eyes, and spoke with the same powerful resonance that Eira had. “If you attempt to flee, I will destroy you.”

  The red wizard's eyes opened wide in a panic, and she took a step towards the open end of her enclosure. The walls on either side of her surged towards each other, dragging the ground with it, and pinned her, nearly crushing her between them, her feet buried in the soil that was pushed along by the stone slabs.

  She cried out in pain, her voice young, thin, and exhausted. “Alright! Alright! I yield!”

  Eira floated over her soldiers to the edge of the pile of collapsed wall blocks. They cleared for her as she lowered herself, her feet touching ground next to Elias. Quartz climbed down from the wall, and the soldiers parted for her as she joined Elias, Eira, and Tataramoa in front of the enclosure where the red wizard was pinned, struggling for breath.

  Eira looked down her nose at the young woman. “Quartz, release her.”

  The blocks moved apart slightly, dropping the gasping woman to the ground.

  Eira looked to Elias. “General, bring her to my son's chambers. We will learn from her what she has to tell.”

  As Elias leaned down to take the young woman by the wrists, she scrambled back. The stone slabs on either side of her shuddered, and she paused, looking fearfully between the walls of her prison.

  “You can come with us,” Quartz said, “Or I can smash you flatter than parchment.” She frowned, holding her hands up. “It is up to you.”

  “She is a witch! We should kill her now, before she kills us all!” Tataramoa hissed.

  Eira shook her head. “If she is a witch, then so am I. She has information that I want, and dead girls do not speak.” She glanced back at Elias. “Bind her hands. She can do no magic while she is here, but I don't want her getting hold of a weapon.”

  Elias called for a rope, and one of Valtheim's soldiers brought a severed climbing rope from a grappling hook. He wrapped it around the red mage's shakin
g hands. If he had not seen her destroying the wall, she would not have believed this girl was capable of the havoc she had wrought. Leaving enough rope to lead her by, he tied her hands to her front, wrapping the rope around her waist. Following Eira, he led the powerless mage over the shattered portion of the wall, Tataramoa falling in behind him. When they reached the top of the wall, Quartz called out to him.

  “Elias! I am going to stay here and repair the wall. I will join you and Eira shortly.”

  Elias nodded, still somewhat dumbfounded at what she and Eira had done, and the events that he had witnessed. He looked around the men, who were milling about, talking and whispering amongst themselves. “Men of Valtheim,” he called out, drawing their attention. "Stay and defend these walls. Our enemies have fled, but we do not know if they have gone. Protect Quartz as she does what she must, and man the walls and gates. Nobody goes in or out of the city until you have my direct orders!”

  One of the soldiers stepped forward. “But General... these women here, they do magic! They're witches!”

  “If they are witches, then they are our witches!” he snapped. “I didn't hear any complaints when Quarts defeated our enemies for us, or when the dragon bathed our enemies in fire! I have lived amongst the Northlands for longer than any of you have been alive! I have seen your priests work magic in the name of your gods hundreds of times! These women work magic for us.”

  He tugged on the red mage's rope. “This witch is not one of ours. What say we let our witches deal with her?”

  There was a low murmur of assent, and Elias nodded. “We have repelled our enemies this day, and we will triumph over them if they dare to return!”

  This drew a louder chorus of cheers, and the men went about their tasks, clearing a way for Elias to descend into Valtheim, tugging the bound wizard behind him.

  Quartz arched an eyebrow at him as he passed. “Crude, but well done.”

  He nodded to her, but did not speak. He wasn't nearly as at ease with the situation as he made himself out to be.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elias, Jonas, Jenna, Quartz, and Eira stood in Brandt's chambers. The red wizard was tied to a chair, her arms lashed to the armrests, her legs lashed to the chair's legs, and her waist tied securely to the back of the chair. She was quite immobile.

  Eira stood in front of the mage. “So. First things first. What is your name?”

  The young woman looked up at Eira, her green eyes wide, but said nothing. Eira sighed.

  “If you're not going to answer the questions I ask you, then there's no reason to keep you alive. I will have to try harder, and that involves hurting you. I don't want to do that, but you see, I suspect you have information as to my son's whereabouts.” She stood directly in front of the young wizard, who flinched at her proximity. “I love my son, more than you could ever imagine. I wouldn't even allow a wetnurse to care for him; I fed him myself, from my own breast. I changed him, I clothed him, I taught him. He was my life, and now he is gone.”

  Eira reached her hand out, and gently lifted the woman's chin. “If you answer my questions, then I will let you live, I swear it to you as Queen of the Northlands, and as the successor to the Master of the winds.”

  The woman looked back at Eira, her eyes still wide. “Arula. My name is Arula.” Her voice was gentle, quiet, with a slightly exotic accent.

  Eira nodded. “Thank you, Arula. Your name means 'Brightest,' does it not?”

  The young woman lifted her chin slightly. “It means 'Brilliant' where I come from.”

  Jenna frowned. “Arula is a boy's name, east of the mountains. You're from the Burning Sands.”

  Arula nodded. “My father wanted a son. I was a great disappointment to him when I was born.”

  Elias raised an eyebrow. “And yet he named you 'brilliant?' That doesn't make much sense.”

  Arula looked down. “I took this name when I left my home. I thought that since my father wanted a son, I may as well act at least that part.”

  Quartz stepped forward. “Where did you learn magic, Arula?” Her tone was hard, with an edge to her voice. It was obvious she did not like this girl.

  Arula glanced at Quartz. “I learned it in probably the same way you did.”

  Quartz scowled. “You did not study with the Council. I know all of the students of the Masters, and you are not one of them.”

  Eira lifted an eyebrow. “This is true. You are not the successor of the Master of Fire. Who trained you?”

  Arula gritted her teeth, snarling slightly. “Your masters are pompous, arrogant, perverted old fools! They say that their way is the only way to true power, and they lie!”

  Eira slapped Arula across the mouth, the sound resonating through the room. “Mind your tongue, child, or it will be removed. Answer the question. Who trained you?”

  Arula glared up at Eira, and turned her head to the side, spitting blood on the floor. She turned back to look up at Eira, and didn't speak.

  Eira shook her head. “Elias, cut off her right hand.” She looked back at Arula. "I assume you are right-handed, yes?”

  Arula stiffened in her chair as Elias raised an eyebrow.

  “Cut off her hand?” he asked dubiously.

  Eira nodded. “Yes, cut off her hand. When I watched her casting her magic, she used gestures, but I didn't hear any spoken word, nor did I see her use any materials. It seems that she has learned to shape energy with her hands. Since she won't tell us who trained her, I am forced to assume it was some creature from the Abyss. We can't have an abyssal spellcaster on the loose. We must remove that from her, lest she uses such powers against us in the future.”

  Elias paused, not wanting to mutilate the girl. True, he had been trying to kill her not two hours before this, but now, she was tied up, and well under Eira's power. She couldn't cast any magic here, as long as Eira didn't want her to. She was helpless. Cutting off her hand seemed barbaric, cruel.

  “I trained myself!” Arula cried, sweat beading on her forehead. “The Master of Fire declined to teach me, so I trained myself! I practiced until I was stronger, and learned how to control my power!”

  Eira scoffed. “Self-taught? That's absurd. Nobody who can fend off a dragon, or bring down city walls is self-taught.”

  Arula's eyes flicked between Elias and Eira. “I am not lying.”

  Eira nodded. “I suppose it really doesn't matter anyway. Now then. I am going to ask you some questions, and whether you answer them directly or not will determine whether you walk out of here.”

  Arula was quiet for a moment. “You would really let me go?”

  “Under certain circumstances, yes. Do you understand what I have told you?”

  Arula nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “Very good. Now then. You were at the battle, at Steinhalt, yes?”

  Arula nodded.

  “Why did my son's bannermen betray him?”

  Arula stared at the ground. “I was not privy to the war meetings.”

  Eira paced behind Arula. “That's not the question I asked you. You were present in the city, and you were a part of the war effort. Did you overhear anything?”

  Arula was silent for a moment. Eira set her hands on the young woman's shoulders. “Do you value your hands, Arula?”

  Arula swallowed. “It is a terrible thing, to betray your king.”

  Eira smiled lightly. “It is. And your lords betrayed my son, who was their king. I want to know why.”

  Arula squeezed her eyes shut, battling with herself. “Gerulf and Adalhard told them that if they sided with Brandt, they would have me set fire to their cities and burn them to the ground.” She looked up at Elias. “They told me that if I did not do as they commanded, they would bind my hands in iron, and give me to their men.” Averting her eyes, she looked at the ground again. “They told me that you were treacherous scum, and had tricked them by hiding your traitors in their midst and that you only fought with subterfuge, not like real Northmen.”

  Elias shook his head and turned
away, anger burning up into his chest. Though this woman been trying to destroy Valtheim, she had been forced to do so. She had killed many of Valtheim's warriors with her magic, and Elias himself had tried to kill her as well, but they would have never faced each other had it not been for the schemes of Gerulf, Adalhard, and Carloman. Even the lesser lords that had betrayed them had been pressed to do so under threat of annihilation.

  Eira seemed unmoved. “So you did overhear things, even though you weren't a member of the war council. Did you overhear the fate of my son?”

  She shook her head. “No. I know that he did not die in the battle, and led his other horse riders away when the battle seemed lost. They called him a coward, and talked about what would happen to him when their men found him. We left before they returned. I do not know if they caught him or killed him.”

  Eira removed her hands from Arula's shoulders, and stepped around to her front. “You say that Adalhard and Gerulf conspired together to force the other lords to do their bidding. Our scouts tell us that there were no more than fifteen thousand men between the five lords to the west and northwest. At least ten thousand men attacked our city this day. No commander in their right mind would send all of their forces, or even such a vast majority, away from their cities, and leave them undefended. Where did the men come from?”

  Arula shrugged as best she could in her bound state. “I do not know. As I said, I was not privy to their war council.”

  Eira shook her head. “You're my only source of information, and you do not have the information I need. Maybe I should just have you thrown over the wall, if you are of no use to me.”

  Arula's eyes snapped up to look at Eira, anger plain on her face. “Is that so? Then maybe you should. You demanded I answer your questions, and I have. If you don't believe me, just kill me.” She glared at Elias. “This one was eager to do it before, let him. Or her,” she said, looking at Quartz. “She is definitely strong enough to do it, if you don't have the stomach to do it yourself.” She looked around the room at the others, Jonas and Jenna. “What's my alternative, living my life in your dungeons? I'd rather die.”