The Storm's Own Son (Book 1) (22 page)

Then a long spear found his flesh. He ripped himself free, leapt backward, spun as he went, and impaled the throat of the enemy who'd stabbed him. He whirled over fallen horses and slew another
man. Horsemen circled all round him now, stabbing, as he circled with flashing blades atop the corpses. Another spear stabbed him, and another.

Talaos could hear the shouted orders of the enemy commander. He heard the command to kill him at all costs. He felt his strength ebbing. His fresh blood made red streams down the caked brown blood on his clothes and body.
Enemies approached to slay him, and he killed them as they tried. His pile of corpses grew.

Higher up the pass, he heard the Madmen shouting
. Vulkas roared as he sent the shattered corpses of men flying before him. Higher still, he heard clear shouted commands from Adriko and Lurios. He heard a horn, and then a new sound. Soldiers advancing forward his way from higher up. The enemy? The brave spearmen of Aledri? He knew not. He merely fought and slew.

The blackness grew within him.

The enemy was all around him. They pressed in, stabbing at him with spears as he dodged and whirled.

From h
igh up the pass came more sounds of horns. Then there was a sound, another new sound. Cavalry riding down from on high? Illusions felt in the shadow of death, he thought. The cavalry, the enemy were right here, all around him, and he slew them.

And they him, cut by cut.

Spears pierced his flesh. He sliced them apart, but more came. A hundred aimed his way.

His blood flowed from many wounds.

Cornered at last, he thought.

So be it.

A mighty life, but short.

He prepared to make a worthy death.

Men all around fell before his scything blades. All around him. But more came.

Then blackness took him.

This is not the end of the story.

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

A preview follows.

Preview
of The Storm's Own Son, Book Two

The center of the enemy front line stood ragged and shattered.  Talaos and his five beasts tore into the wound, slaying as they widened it. Behind them or around them, here and there, other enemies still lived, or came forward past their own ranks to surround the invaders. Firio and Imvan, like a pair of predatory birds, or ravens seeing prizes, descended on them.

Now, up the ladder and over the battlement, came the rest of Talaos's men. Grim and terrible, they advanced on the wavering enemy. Talaos, even as he slew, looked back at his
advancing men and laughed. The enemies all round wavered, seeing their deaths upon them.

And then eighty grim and merciless men charged, like the flanks and claws of a beast with Talaos and his Madmen as the jaws. With them, death arrived. They howled, roared and slaughtered. It was over swiftly, and then they had only corpses around them. The rain poured from the sky in sheets as lightning flashed overhead.

Talaos laughed. Victory, he thought. But only the first. They had work to do.

The front left tower of the keep was a graveyard of shattered wood and bones. The other three still had ballistae, and even in this wind, they could hit at such close range. The crews in the towers were working furiously to reposition their weapons to do exactly that, while archers took aim at targets close enough to have some chance of success.

"Vulkas!" roared Talaos, voice echoing like thunder, "Take those doors out!"

The doors at the bases of the towers were iron-bound and strong, built to withstand assault. Vulkas ran, massive as a hurtling boulder, to the one at the front right of the keep.

He made a turning leap, war mattock swinging wide.

"ONE!" Vulkas bellowed.

The mattock smashed into the door and sent it flying backward. Soldiers on the other side were crushed in a spray of blood against the opposite wall. Beyond the doorway were stairs, up and down. The giant charged toward a second tower, that on the back right.

A group of Talaos's men charged into the open door, and both up and down the stairs.

"Larogwan, take charge of the men below! Halmir, lead the men up top!" shouted Talaos.

They nodded and ran.

Vulkas reached the second tower.

"TWO!"

The gigantic warrior turned low, mattock swinging around and upward like the mallet in a game of ball. It smashed the door inward from the bottom, flipping its jagged remnants backward to cut a soldier behind it in half at the waist.

"Kyrax, up! Epos, down!" roared Talaos as he followed Vulkas to the final tower.

As they went, another group of Talaos's men poured behind Kyrax and Epos through the shattered tower door.

On top of the first tower, Halmir was leading a swift slaughter.

"THREE!" roared the giant, as he reached the last tower.

Vulkas whirled, mattock upward, then down again in an arc that cracked the door in half, with splinters flying inward. This time no one had been so unwise as to guard behind it.

"Vulkas, clear the tower!" bellowed Talaos, "Firio! Imvan! With me!"

As Vulkas crashed his way up the stairs, smashing foes foolish enough to stand in his way, Talaos descended. He grinned with the feral joy of the hunt, ready to face the unknown
prey below. His beasts, he thought, were now leading hunts of their own. Behind him, companions on his hunt, were his ravens, Firio and Imvan, and his wild, ravening men of death.

About the Author

Thanks for purchasing this book!

Anthony Gillis resides in Denver, 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 been making 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