The Storm's Own Son (Book 2) (18 page)

Talaos grinned wolfishly.

Some of the enemy commanders looked even less pleased at that. One whispered to another, and Talaos thought he overhead something about sin and curses upon the soul.

Maxano, however, seemed to return his mind to business. "I can make some guesses,
Warlord, at the path that led you to power. The common thread I mentioned earlier now becomes relevant, as I presume you came here with more serious business in mind.

"You mentioned Sanctari being assassinated by agents of the Living Prophet. He was known to be skeptical of dealing with the Prophet. I think you well knew the faith followed by
Olvas and Petani, and I can guess at what the people in that camp might have in common."

Talaos replied, "Followers of the Prophet violated the laws of Avrosa and Hunyos in service to a foreign power. Their faith is now banned in Avrosa, and in our army. Those refugees are all the followers of the Prophet who willingly left when given the chance. Since I can see that your army is on good terms with the believers of that faith, I offer up the refugees to your kindness."

"I must object!" interrupted a sturdy older man in silvered segmented armor, and a uniform that was mostly in a dark purple-red color, like wine. By description, Talaos thought he might be General Ilirios of the city of Mileno.

"We don't have supplies to take on... what, three thousand civilians," added
Gavro.

With equal vehemence, several other commanders began arguing in favor of admitting the refugees. Then, a few others joined the group of those objecting. Talaos watched them, and made note of who argued which side, and why.

Maxano surveyed the arguing commanders, and Talaos thought he was about to raise his hand for silence, much as Sanctari would have done, when the representative of the Prophet spoke. His voice was quiet, calm, and seemed to have some power within it that calmed the others, though it only repelled Talaos.

"Peace, brothers," said the man. "We of the faith of the Living Prophet will happily help those innocents, cast out of their own homes. Fear not for our resources, or yours. He who rides with us will ensure that food, goods, and gold will flow where they are needed."

At that statement, Talaos thought Maxano looked uncomfortable under his grand demeanor, like an official who has been reminded he's been bought.

Talaos whispered quietly to his herald, "Go tell General Megaras to send the refugees this way. Waste no time. I command it!"

"I obey," replied the herald, and he rode off at haste.

Ilirios
seemed to have noticed the exchange, and spoke to Talaos, "Warlord, don't assume we have agreed!"

Gavro
nodded, and added, "That's right, give us a minute...."

With that, the debate began anew.

Maxano made to speak, but was interrupted again.

Another voice spoke. It was eloquent, gentle, yet powerful, and seemed to come from all around, as if it originated everywhere, and nowhere.

"The Living Prophet speaks, and will take charge and care of his faithful. They are no longer your concern, commanders. When they reach your camp, turn them over to his Hand."

Maxano looked even less comfortable.
Gavro scowled. Ilirios became coldly silent. Several others, who had moments before opposed taking on the refugees, now quieted and looked nervous. Of those who had spoken in favor of accepting the refugees, most looked pleased, though a few were quiet and watchful.

Behind them all, among the enemy army, soldiers were parting ranks with looks that sharply diverged; either fearful, or worshipful.

Talaos sensed something wrong in the air, like he had the night he fought the three sorcerers in Carai, but this time far more powerfully.

He felt revulsion to the core of his being, but no fear.

Battle and wrath rose within his soul.

A rider appeared amid the parting soldiers, approaching at a slow measured pace on a white horse with strangely vacant green-white eyes.

The rider was tall, and wore layered, all-concealing robes of simple green and white linen under a white hooded cloak. He held the reins by hands covered in white gloves. On his face, however, was a golden mask in the form of a gently smiling bearded man.

The mask had no eyes.

A general among the enemy commanders whispered, "Praise be, the Hand is here."

This is not the end of the story.

It continues with
The Storm's Own Son, Book Three.

A preview follows.

Preview
of The Storm's Own Son, Book Three

Ahead of him was the enemy commander, the javelin-wielder. Talaos drew back, focusing power on his own javelin, then hurled it. The commander raised his left hand, and there bound to it was a disc of copper. It flickered with green light. The enemy deflected the javelin in mid air as power flashed around the disc, and then hurled his javelin at Talaos with superhuman force.

Talaos wheeled and dodged, but it made no difference. The javelin aimed true and struck him anyway. He roared in pain as it pierced his breastplate, then pulled it back out with a flash of power and cast it aside. He charged the general at full gallop. As he went, he considered that if not for his armor, that javelin would have run him through.

To his right, another officer, equipped as one of high rank and probably a tribune, moved to block his path. The man had a long sword and round shield with a blue lion on white. Talaos brought his long blade, arcing with his power, down on that shield, and with a flash it split in half. The sword cleaved into the foe's chest and he fell back, dead.

The enemy commander made to draw another javelin. Faint green light flickered in his right hand. After the last, Talaos had no illusions of dodging it. Talaos focused his mind. He knew what he had to do. The distance was not far, but his horse would be too slow.
A few times before the world had seemed to slow down around him in battle. He knew in fact he had sped up. It drained him, but he would have to do so now.

He focused his will, his intent, and his power.

The wind picked up again, and the rain grew stronger.

The commander drew back his arm. All around, the world became sluggish. Talaos rose to his feet in the stirrups. The commander threw, and the javelin soared across the plain.  Faster than anything on that plain but Talaos himself, it flew true and deadly. Talaos climbed to the back of his horse atop the saddle, drew his short blade to join the long, stood for a moment, and leapt.

About the Author

Thanks for purchasing this book!

Anthony Gillis resides in Colorado, at the feet of the Rocky Mountains. He is the child of hippie adventurer parents, and lived on his father’s sailboat, an island off the coast of Costa Rica, a converted school bus, and a ramshackle house in Ft. Lauderdale with a leaky roof and a sand yard, before settling down to something resembling a normal childhood. Somehow, all that made him decide to enlist and serve in the United States Air Force, and then earn a bachelor’s degree in history and an MBA. He worked in accounting and finance for many years, but has recently
made the transition to full time writer.

A lifelong voracious reader, including fantasy, science fiction, and adventure stories, his influences are wide-ranging, but include J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert E. Howard, C.S. Forester, and
Ayn Rand.  He is the author of several other books, including the science fiction epic Alien Empire, pirate adventure Jamaica Rum, and the Blood on Bronze sword and sorcery series.

More information on the author and his works can be found at
anthonygillis.com

Other
Books by the Author

BLOOD ON BRONZE –They kicked in his front door. They took his family and seized his business. Powerful and corrupt, they fear nothing from one young man. They underestimated him. Arjun is a bronze maker in Zakran, vast and wicked city of a thousand thousands. Inina is a beautiful young rogue. Bal-Shim is a smiling and suddenly prominent man, loved by rich and poor alike. All their lives are about to change forever. Join them, and enter a world of magic, an age of bronze, a tale of vengeance.

ALIEN EMPIRE – When the aliens came, the world changed forever, but not even they imagined how. Haral Karden is wry, skeptical, and the longstanding leader of his field, the history of first contacts between cultures. When aliens arrive in a fleet of beautiful ships, with benevolent words, and bearing amazing technological gifts, he asks the simple question – what do they want in return?

JAMAICA RUM – Freedom, wealth, and power… or the hangman’s noose? Follow the merchant sailor turned buccaneer Diego Cargrave and the crew of the Sea Drake through wartime adventure. The 1670s were a wild time when pirates were as likely to end up rich as on the end of a noose, and Henry Morgan himself was an English admiral. A realistic pirate tale, there are no magic items or sea monsters here, but plenty of duels, battles, lusty wenches, and rum. Oh, and the rum here is NEVER gone, but with a crew of pirates, is that really a good thing?

BARRETT’S BAR STORIES – Most interesting man in the world? He’s got NOTHIN’ on Pappy Barrett, especially when measured by blood alcohol content! Vic Barrett, Pappy to his friends and for that matter, most of his enemies, is a two-fisted, hard-living sailor, traveler, soldier of fortune and veteran of countless close calls. He’s had a long career packed with more adventure than most people could pack into one lifetime. In fact, it isn’t too clear how he has packed it into HIS lifetime, but don’t bother him with questions, just pull up a stool and enjoy!

Acknowledgements

A few authors who have influenced me in the writing of this work include:

Robert E. Howard

Joe Abercrombie

Michael Moorcock

Many boundless thanks are due to my tireless editor, the writer
Alex M. Jones

I thank the following musicians for inspiration while writing The Storm's Own Son:

Norwegian musical project
Wardruna
, for everything they have done.

German dark metal band
Powerwolf
, for the song
Wolves Against the World

Bulgarian composer
Dracovallis
, for
Cynthia
and
Legend of the Frozen Kingdom

Swiss music group
Eluveite
  for
Luxtos

Swiss composer
Adrian von Ziegler
for
Skilfingr

American composer
Brandon Fiechter
for his
Dwarven
compositions

American metal band
Manowar
, for
Warriors of the World
and
Die With Honor

American dark ambient duo
Nox Arcana
for
Blood of the Dragon