Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2)

by Brandon Cornwell

  “Fall back from the gate!” he roared, his voice carrying through the sounds of the siege. “The gates will fall! Do not be under them when they do!”

  Boulders slammed into the wooden gates, making them crack, and the wall they were moored to shuddered. With one final, begrudging groan, the broken gate was pulled from its hinges, falling inward. It knocked down the beam that was bolstering the other gate, which now swung free.

  A few more boulders bounded through the now open gate and hurtled into the city, crashing into buildings. As the shots dwindled off, Elias stood shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers of Valtheim. Through the dust and debris, he could see Carloman's forces gathering outside the gates, preparing for their charge. Though he couldn't make out what they were saying, Elias could see the lords riding back and forth, and hear them giving their rallying speeches.

  “Those men out there want to butcher you like hogs,” Elias roared to his men. “They want to murder your sons, rape your wives and daughters, and turn your city into dust and rubble! They want to erase Valtheim from existence!”

  A battle-cry rose from the men around Elias, and the air was filled with raised swords, spears, axes and bows.

  “They want to take the city and memory of Valtheim from the Northland and discard it like it was waste in a midden! But we are not waste! We are not going to go so easily into oblivion, are we?”

  The roar of the soldiers that answered him was deafening. He could feel it in his armor, in his skin, in his blood. He held his massive sword in one hand, pointing it towards the gates. Over the destroyed wood, he could see Carloman's forces charging forward.

  “I say that when they come through that gate, we show them that the true men of the North will never be forgotten! I say we teach them a lesson that their sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons will tell tales of until the mountains are ground into dust! Let us burn Valtheim into history for this day, and every day that comes after it!”

  The shout that came from the soldiers was louder still, driving his heart into a frenzy. The familiar red tinge started to fill his vision, and he began to grin uncontrollably, baring his teeth as the first soldiers entered arrow range. Archers from the top of the wall, having waited at the ready for hours, released their arrows, pelting the attackers mercilessly with volley after volley as they charged. He could hear Jonas and Martin screaming orders from on top of the wall.

  At his left, Jenna stood, clad in her leather and chainmaille, the sword he had carried with him from Valtheim so many years ago in her hand. He had never told her that it had once belonged to him. She screamed like a banshee with the rest of the men, holding the sword aloft, battle lust burning in her eyes. On his right, a squat, heavily armored dwarf stood braced, a hand axe gripped in each thick gauntlet, bellowing out his challenge to the invading humans. Elias turned back to the gate as the first soldiers coursed through, shouting at the top of their lungs.

  Elias raised his sword to strike, and lunged forward, all of the valor of the Northlands at his back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  4th Waning Frost Moon, Year 4369

  Elias's boots pounded the ground as he rushed forward, the army of Valtheim behind him. He outpaced all but the tallest Northmen, gripping his greatsword in both hands as he closed with the charging enemy soldiers. As the closest man pulled back to skewer him with a spear, Elias relieved him of his head and one arm with a powerful downward swing. Reversing his swing, the tip of his blade caught another man in the stomach, nicking against his sternum as Elias disemboweled him. Turning from the screaming man, he smashed the pommel of his sword into the face of another man, sending the tab of metal that nominally protected the man's nose into his eye socket.

  Turning in place, he drove the point of his sword through the back of a soldier wearing a breastplate. He hauled the soldier back with his blade as he tried to pull it out, and had to kick the struggling man off of his sword to pull it free. He used the momentum to lash out, slashing through the breast of a horse as it galloped by, sending it tumbling to the ground, throwing its rider.

  He quickly lost track of the men he killed as he moved through the battle. He led the vanguard as he had when Arula had collapsed the wall, driving into the surging tide of enemies as if he were forging alone into the sea, his weapon slashing through men as they struggled to get out of his path and into Valtheim. When he was under the wall, he planted his feet and hacked at anything that came within reach. Men, horses, arms, legs, all fell victim to his rage.

  He was dimly aware of a pain in his thigh, but ignored it, sidestepping a lance borne by a mounted knight. He swung his blade down, missing the knight, but cleaving the horse's flank. His sword was wrenched from his grasp as it wedged into the animal's back end, and he leapt for it. Two soldiers fell upon him, swinging for him with an axe and a sword. He turned, catching the haft of the axe in one hand, the blow jarring his wrist, and jerked it out of the hands of the man wielding it.

  Twisting out of the way of a sword thrust, he swung the axe with all of his might. The back of the axe head was shaped like a hammer, and struck the swordsman on his chest, knocking him down. Elias reversed his strike and brought the blade of the axe down on the shoulder of the man he had taken it from, then back to the swordsman, cleaving his chest open through his chainmaille. Turning back to the gate, he brought the axe back as if he were splitting firewood, and hurled it at a horseman.

  Though the blade of the weapon didn't stick into the enemy soldier, the axe struck the horse in the head with the haft and hit the soldier hard enough to knock him off of his mount. The horse bolted, dragging the rider by one stirrup through the battle.

  Elias saw his sword laying on the ground under a fallen Valtheim soldier, and he sprinted to it, rolling his fallen comrade off of the blade. He picked up the massive weapon, relieved to have it back in his hands, even after such a short absence. He saw a spear from the corner of his eye and dodged it, grabbing the pole with his left hand. He clove the spearman with his sword, and though he swung it with only one hand, his blade bit deep into the shoulder of the enemy soldier. He ripped the spear from the dying man's grasp and threw it clumsily into the enemy ranks. Whether he struck anyone, he did not wait to see, pushing farther through the gate.

  Bodies were piling up as Carloman's forces met a wall of Valtheim's soldiers; elves and dwarves were falling next to men of both sides under the large stone arch. To his left, he saw a flash of black hair and steel and saw Jenna fighting, whirling and striking like a dancer, sidestepping blows that could have felled her like she had known they were coming. Soldiers fell at her feet as though they simply fell asleep during their charge, and she stepped over them with a deftness that impressed him.

  He couldn't stand and watch her fight, though, as the pressing matter of the battle at hand demanded his attention. They held the line in the middle of the gate, where they were less exposed to arrow fire from the field outside, but the enemy could still be bottlenecked in the stone passage. The archers on the wall kept firing arrows into the mass of soldiers that crowded towards the opening, thinning the ranks before they closed with the melee fighters below.

  As abruptly as the charge had begun, it ended. Elias cut down the last soldier in front of him and found that there with no more enemies within striking distance. He looked around, holding his sword in his right hand, as the men of Valtheim raised a cheer. He could see the soldiers retreating to safety, arrows peppering them all the way. He paused, suspicious of the sudden retreat.

  His suspicion was validated by the sound of trebuchets firing. Looking up, he saw ten or more boulders spinning through the air towards the gate.

  “Fall back! Fall back! Into the city! Get away from the gate!” he shouted and turned to face the wall of Valtheim soldiers. Confusion struck the ranks as the men at the rear were still pressing forward, while the men at the front pressed back.

  The boulders tore through them like sling stones through grass.

  Men were smashed b
y the score as the trebuchet shots bounced through the ranks, crushing and dismembering men and dwarves where they stood. Cries of victory turned into screams of pain as Valtheim's soldiers fled from the gates and back into the city.

  The trebuchets began pelting the top of the walls with terrifying accuracy. Men and elves were thrown from the battlements, bringing masonry and boulders with them. Elias could see the great hall in the middle of Valtheim still sending the beam of light into the sky as he pushed through the ranks, moving to the side of the gate.

  The soldiers inside Valtheim took what cover they could from the onslaught of stones, standing along the wall, waiting for the attack to slow before regrouping.

  “We should rush 'em!” one of the dwarves next to Elias said. “Bring the fight t' them!”

  Elias shook his head. “That would be suicide. They'd turn those damn siege engines back to the gate, and only the first ranks would get through. We'd get annihilated, and they know it.”

  Another soldier, obviously panicked, spoke up. “So what do we do? Sit here and wait for them to bring the fucking wall down on our heads?”

  Elias shook his head. “No. I have an idea. Fall back into the town, a hundred yards from the gate! Hide yourselves behind rubble, sheds, carts, anything you can!” He pointed to the group of soldiers on the opposite side of the gate, to the south. “You lot! Hide in the buildings! Spread out, but stay close to the gates!”

  He spotted Jenna and ran to her. As he crossed the gate, he heard a trebuchet fire, and shortly after he made it to the southern side of the road, a boulder hurtled through the shattered main entrance. They had at least one siege engine still trained on the gate, confirming his expectations, though the stone didn't strike anyone.

  Jenna stood with her back flat against the wall as the boulders struck the battlements above them. Occasionally sections of mortared bricks would fall, injuring the soldiers taking cover behind the wall.

  He pressed himself against the wall next to her. “Get these men into the city, about a hundred yards from the gate. Hide in the buildings, alleys, behind carts, anything that keeps them out of sight of the gate. I need half of them, at the western wall with ropes!”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”

  “I'm going to climb down that wall, and I'm going to pull those stone-throwing sons of bitches over. It seems like most of their men are here, trying to breach the gate. If we can attack them where the ranks are thinner, then we stand a chance.”

  Jenna cursed savagely. “You're going to get yourself killed!”

  Elias growled. “We're all going to get killed unless we do something!”

  Jenna leaned against the wall for a moment, her eyes closed, her jaw clenched. She opened her eyes, not looking at Elias.

  “Alright. Let's do it.”

  The men rushed from the wall into the city, dispersing through the streets and spaces between buildings, climbing over rubble and destroyed buildings. As Elias ran through with the soldiers, he started collecting men to come with him and spread the word.

  “When the enemy comes through the gates, let them come. Wait until they begin pouring into Valtheim, then unleash hell. Once they fill the courtyard in front of the gate, attack them with everything you have! Don't leave a single man standing. Take no prisoners. Kill every soldier Carloman sends into our city!”

  Five thousand men were hidden amongst the buildings, while a further five thousand ran to the west, to the opposite side of the city, led by Elias. On the way, they grabbed every bit of rope they could find and climbed the steps to the top of the wall. This was the wall that Quartz had reinforced after the last battle, and it had fared significantly better than the eastern wall and gate. As they climbed, the wall shuddered as trebuchet stones slammed into it, and Elias could hear a rising shout from the eastern gate. Carloman had taken the bait, and Valtheim was responding in kind. However, he couldn't stop to listen; he had his task here.

  Quickly, they tied ropes to nearly every battlement, and threw them over the wall, letting them fall to the ground. Elias crouched at the edge of the wall, addressing the soldiers on the ground below him.

  “As quickly as you can, climb down these ropes, and rush towards the siege engines. Do what you have to, to bring them down. Pull them over with ropes, hack them to pieces if you have an axe, set them on fire if you can, I don't care. Just break them. Kill their crews and anyone else who stands in your way. Don't travel in groups, that makes you easy targets. Spread out so that their archers can't just pepper you with volleys.”

  The wall shook as another boulder crashed into it. “We won't have a lot of time from when we start climbing down until they start firing at us. Many of us will die, but this is the best chance we've got!”

  He stood, looking out to the west. To his right, Tataramoa was issuing orders to his elves and Valtheim's men, checking ropes to make sure they were securely tied. He paused, looking at Elias, their eyes meeting.

  “Are we really doing this, Kaiwhakaora?”

  Elias nodded.

  Tataramoa grinned. “Then let us kill some Northmen together.”

  Elias grabbed a rope and swung out over the edge of the wall. He slid down, the dragonskin of his gloves keeping his hands from burning on the rough fiber. Tataramoa beat him to the ground, but only barely, and they both turned to sprint towards Carloman's line. As he had guessed, there were fewer soldiers here than there were at the gate, as the fighting was less intense, which suited Elias just fine. Behind him, soldiers began sliding down the ropes, landing nearly on top of each other. They didn't wait for their comrades before following Elias, running immediately for the enemy ranks.

  There was a commotion from Carloman's forces, and a line of archers stepped to the front. Elias pushed harder, closing with them as fast as he could, but they were only two-thirds of the way across the field when the first volley was loosed. Elias turned to the side, narrowly missing an arrow as it whizzed past him. He heard a cry behind him as it struck one of his companions, and he snarled, pushing harder.

  The second volley was loosed as he closed with the archers, and an arrow caught him directly in the chest. It punched through his breastplate, but was stopped by the dragonskin underneath. Nonetheless, it still hurt, nearly driving the breath from Elias with the impact. As the arrow struck him, swordsmen stepped in front of the archers, closing with him and his companions.

  By this time Elias was close enough to strike and did so with prejudice, cleaving through every soldier he could reach, scattering the line. To his left and right, his men were doing the same, cutting down the archers where they stood, and clashing with the footmen. They outnumbered the soldiers on this side of the city, and after a short skirmish, Carloman's soldiers broke ranks and fled into the forest.

  Elias paused for a moment, catching his breath, then sprinted to the nearest trebuchet. It was even larger than it had seemed at first, towering over four times his height, as tall as Valtheim's walls. The sling was a large leather and fiber cup, attached to the throwing arm with long ropes. This one was already loaded and ready to launch.

  Elias took his sword to the ropes attaching the sling end to the arm, cutting it free of the rest of the contraption, then slashed the cords holding it in firing position. The trebuchet launched, but without the end of the sling attached, fired nothing. Once the siege engine had slowed its movement, he seized the rope that once held the sling end, and hauled on it.

  The trebuchet didn't move. Elias called for his soldiers to aid him, and shortly, they had several men hauling on the rope. Slowly, grudgingly, the trebuchet toppled over. Elias and his companions scattered out of its path as it fell, the axle shattering on impact, the counterbalance spilling its contents over the field.

  Elias cast about for a moment, and found a cart filled with pots of tar. Wrapped in rope and soaked in oil, they were meant to be lit and hurled into Valtheim. He threw several at the broken machine, scattering the tar over and around the
timbers. A nearby torch provided the flame needed to set it ablaze.

  As it burned, he directed soldiers to the cart. “Use those! Smash them into the trebuchets once we knock them over. I don't want them to have anything to repair, and we don't have much time!”

  Indeed, from the south and north, reinforcements were rushing around Valtheim's walls. The survivors of their charge must have alerted their companions, and now a force much larger than theirs was closing on them.

  Elias paused, considering the options. They could square off and fight back, though their chances were slim. They were outnumbered and surrounded. They could flee to the city, but they would likely be pinned there while his men climbed the wall. They'd be sitting targets for the archers, while the footmen would smash them against the stone, with nowhere to retreat.

  South. They would charge south. When the last trebuchet was set on fire, Elias lifted his sword and called out to his men.

  “Enemies to the south! Form up! Let's send some daylight into their skulls!”

  Elias's armor was feeling heavy, but it would take far too long to remove it. He steeled himself, and started jogging to the south, outpacing the attackers that were rounding the city from the north. With any luck, they could break through the forces south of them quickly enough to get to the gate, and eliminate any reinforcements Carloman left outside of Valtheim, while Jenna, Jonas, and Martin dealt with the invaders within the walls.

  As they drew closer to the southern forces, the air grew bitterly cold. Elias could feel the hair on the back of his neck start to rise. He looked around and noticed that many of the men had static flickering across their beards or armor. He suddenly realized what was going to happen.

  “Down! Get down,” he screamed, throwing himself to the ground. Confused, the men near him lowered themselves, some crouching, others lying flat like he was. Some men didn't lie down, instead looking at him like he had lost his mind.