Elias chuckled. “Cavalry.”
Tataramoa nodded. “Yes. Cavalry. Thank you.”
Jonas sat back on a stump, stirring the coals with a long stick. “I think it could work. We'd need more information first, but if we could convince Brandt to have his men join us, we'd be fighting only the men left here by the other lords, and we would vastly outnumber them. We could take the city if we killed all of them to a man, so that none could return to their lords with news of our conquest.”
Elias nodded. “We could hold Valtheim with nine thousand warriors. Probably even fewer than that, if we fortified behind the walls. When they send more forces to attack us, we would be able to hold them off.”
Jenna stared into the fire, her contemplation plain on her face. “Many of those soldiers could be Brandt's men. If they decided to join us, our forces would be bolstered considerably.”
Tataramoa nodded, looking over at her. “Yes. That is what I was thinking too.”
Elias frowned. “What of their families? Brandt mentioned that they may be threatened by the lords they now serve. Not many men would be compelled to fight if their families were at stake, not to mention Queen Eira. Carloman still holds her captive.”
Martin shook his head. “The soldiers, we could deal with. Maybe have Brandt send word to the other lords just before we stage the attack, with instructions to get word to as many men loyal to Brandt as possible. If we wait long enough, those men who were able could send their families away, perhaps even back to Valtheim. They once lived here, and I am certain they would like to come home. We would open the gates to them, and they would be safe.”
Geoff sighed. “Many could be unable to get away. They may be killed.”
Elias nodded. “It would definitely be dangerous. It would be up to each man and their loved ones to see to their own salvation.”
Jonas nodded and tossed his stick into the fire. “It would also weaken the forces that the other lords have grown accustomed to commanding. If a southern force not only attacks a northern stronghold but takes it as well, then they may consider themselves to be in danger. They'll want to fortify their own holdings. If they lose a good portion of their forces before they do so, then it could make them more hesitant to leave their strongholds undefended. They'd be less likely to ride off to war if they thought they could be attacked before they got home.”
Elias sat back, setting a hand on his chin. “So we could use Valtheim as bait. Make it seem like Lonwick is rising up to invade the Northlands. The new rulers of the country would have to defend their stolen kingdom, but would they send their own men, or the men they took from Brandt?”
Jonas shrugged. “Were it me, I'd send the men that weren't mine to go die, and keep my men at home to protect my holdings.” He leaned back on the stump again. “Maybe we could get word to Brandt's men to volunteer?”
Elias nodded. “I'll ask Brandt about that when I speak to him tomorrow.”
Jenna sighed. “It looks like we have our plan then. When do we do this?”
Elias stood. “That all depends on Brandt. If he decides not to go along with it, then we don't have a plan, and we'll have to head back south.” He looked around the fire at his gathered companions. “Tomorrow comes sooner than we need it to. I suggest you all get some rest. After all, we might be going to war soon.”
~ ~ ~
“You want to attack Valtheim.”
Elias nodded while Brandt held a goblet of wine in his hand, staring at him incredulously. They sat at the table in Brandt's chambers again, just Elias and Brandt.
Elias leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “We want to make it look like Valtheim was being attacked. We wouldn't attack her people, of course, nor would we attack soldiers who are loyal to you. Only forces that were left here by the northern lords who overthrew you.”
Brandt closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “Still. There will be fighting in the streets of Valtheim. That's exactly what I was trying to avoid these past eighteen moons.”
Elias leaned back in his chair. “Brandt, you may not be fighting, but you're at war, and you're losing. I'm offering a way to help you take back your father's kingdom, and rid your people of these traitorous lords. All you have to do is send a rider to Adalhard, Gerulf, and Carloman, asking for aid, with orders to secretly contact as many men who are still loyal to you as possible.”
“And what if they fail? What if other soldiers find out and tell their lords? What if they do not send aid?”
Elias spread his hands. “That still works in our favor. If they don't send aid, then we attack them first.” He rested his hands on the table, clasping his fingers together. “If they do, then we add the men still loyal to you to our forces, and we crush them. They won't know what hit them. Each enemy would have lost forces. They'd be weakened, and easier to overthrow. We will have consolidated your forces here, and have added mine to them.”
Brand set his goblet down, steepling his fingers. “And their families?”
“They would be directed to flee the cities they were staying at, and either disperse through the forests or return to Valtheim. We would protect them here.”
Brandt was silent for a moment. Then, “And my mother?”
Elias nodded. “I am open to suggestions. I don't think that Carloman would harm her due to the actions of a foreign force. Once we take Valtheim, we can address that.”
Brandt shook his head. “No. That's not good enough. I need assurances that she will not be harmed.”
Elias frowned. “You know I can't give those assurances.”
Brandt inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I understand.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I have a proposal instead.”
Elias sat forward again. “I'm listening.”
Brandt drummed his fingers on the table. “Once you take Valtheim, we wait a week. That would be how long it would take for the other lords to get word of Valtheim's fall, organize their soldiers, and march here to retake it, if they are going to do so.” He lifted his goblet to his lips again, taking a long, slow drink. “By that time, if they have sent forces to retake Valtheim, we'll know it. Once we know what we're up against, we send someone north to bring my mother back to Valtheim. If Carloman discovers this plot, he will surely kill her, or try to use her to force me to turn you out.”
Elias nodded. “We can do that. I have many warriors who are used to working silently.”
Brandt chuckled. “More friends like your blue elf, I assume?”
Elias smiled. “Precisely. A small war party can get into almost any place silently, and get back out much the same. They would need a guide, of course, but that's not impossible.”
Brandt swirled the contents of his goblet. “What's your take in all of this, brother?
Elias clasped his hands in front of him, and didn't speak for a moment. Looking up, he said, “I need men, Brandt. Cavalry. I aim to travel south and assault the Felle. For that, I need more soldiers than what I have. There are no cavalry better than those of the North.”
Brandt shook his head. “I don't have them to spare. Most of my men have been taken, and if I send any more, I will be completely defenseless, especially after we retake Valtheim. I'll be at the heart of a civil war.”
Elias nodded. “I know. That's why I plan to help you retake the North, not just Valtheim.”
Brandt sat up a little straighter. “The entire North? We don't have the men to do it. You're mad.”
Elias raised an eyebrow. “We may not have the men to take on the entirety of the Northlands, all at once, but one at a time? If we can regain your forces from Adalhard and Gerulf, that makes you more powerful than either of them. Once we start this war, we can try to regain your bannermen. They would bolster our numbers further. It's what your great grandfather did, when he took the North, and he started with far fewer men than you have.”
Brandt frowned. “He also faced far fewer men, who were poorly organized. Challenging scattered raiding clans for rul
e is not the same as assaulting established lords and fortresses. The game is different now, Elias.”
Elias held Brandt's eyes with his own. “What other choice do you have? Sit here and watch your country be torn apart?”
Brandt nodded, contemplating into his goblet. He sighed, setting it down again. “I drink too much wine, I think.”
Elias chuckled. “What a decidedly un-Northern thing to say.”
Brandt smiled a little. “I suppose it is.” He stood, and sighed. “Well, Elias, I suppose you're right. There isn't much of a choice. If this is something that we're going to do, we both have preparations to make.”
He looked up at Elias, his piercing blue eyes lined with stress. “I will have my men wear green on their armor. Have your men look for my color before killing the soldiers before them, and I will direct my men to aid you in the attack. One week from today is when you should move. I'll send out riders tomorrow, at dusk, requesting reinforcements for a force that threatens us from the south.”
Elias held out his hand, and Brandt clasped it firmly. “We will be victorious, brother.”
Brandt nodded. “I certainly hope so. I do not have your optimism, but it is the best plan we have.”
Elias made his way out of the chamber. As the door closed behind them, he noticed a figure sitting in a chair at one corner of the great hall, where the torchlight didn't quite reach. Covered from head to knee in a long black hood and cape trimmed in brown fur, Elias could not make out the figure's face in the shadows. From what he could see, the figure was very slight of build, much shorter than the men and women of the Northlands. The figure wore gloves that covered their hands, and high, loose boots that obscured their legs.
He paused, meeting Brandt's eyes, and glanced questioningly towards the figure.
Brandt nodded. “I know. Pay that one no mind.”
Elias raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Brandt set his hand on Elias's shoulder.
“Trust me, brother. I cannot go into detail at this time, but that one is not a threat.”
Elias looked back at the figure, who hadn't moved or acknowledged Elias in any way. Something about the figure made Elias uneasy, but he couldn't place it. However, Brandt seemed to be aware of its presence and was not concerned. Elias clapped him on the shoulder, and smiled. “Thank you for listening to me ramble tonight, brother. Until next time.” He purposefully didn't hint at what they had spoken of in Brandt's chambers; who knew what ears may be listening, or which lord they belonged to.
Brandt smiled, gripping Elias's shoulder. “Anytime, Elias. You are always welcome in my home. Until next time.”
With that, Elias walked through the great hall, and out through the double doors, into the night.
Chapter Eight
11th Waning Autumn Moon, Year 4369
Elias crept through the fields, the sliver of the moon casting almost no light. That worked quite well for him, as well as the hundred sea elves that ranged out around him. They all carried long ropes with iron grappling hooks with the prongs padded in cloth to muffle the sound of them scraping against stone. They were going to scale the walls of Valtheim, where they would take the walls as swiftly and silently as possible, before opening the gates, similar to the tactics Brandt said that Carloman, Adalhard, and Gerulf's forces used. The rest of Elias's forces had crept through the darkness, and lay in wait a short distance from the front of the city, to the east.
The guards that patrolled the walls above them did not carry torches. Instead, there were large, iron fire pots on each buttress tower, and torches set in iron sconces along the battlements between the towers. That made it more difficult to track the movements of the guards, but it also made for dark sections of the wall, where they would be less likely to be seen during their ascent. It would make it less noticeable when they started killing guards.
Elias reached the bottom of the wall first, and waited for the rest of his warriors to join him. They spread out along the northern wall, to his left and right, positioning themselves below the darkened areas between the torches.
At Elias's signal, they threw their hooks to the top of the battlements. Elias cringed as a few of the hooks bounced off of the walls, but it was already done. He tested his rope, ensuring it was firmly caught, and started climbing up. While he had recovered well from the burns he received in the dragon's lair, Elias had to grit his teeth against the pain in his hands as he hauled himself up the rope.
The wall was perhaps five times as tall as he was, and inclined very slightly towards the city, being thicker at the base than it was at the top, which made the climb easier. His hands reached the battlements just behind several of his warriors. The section of the wall they scaled was currently empty, but the towers on either side of them each held half a score of soldiers. They were huddled around the blazing fire pots for warmth, while two soldiers patrolled towards the eastern tower, their backs to Elias and his forces.
One of the soldiers happened to hear one of the sea elves moving on the stone, and turned to look at the battlements.
“What was that... It sounded like something-”
Tattooed blue arms grabbed his armor and hauled him halfway over the edge of the wall, between the battlements, while another sea elf slipped over and stuck a knife into the second soldier's throat. The first soldier kicked twice weakly, but went limp shortly thereafter. Both bodies were thrown over the wall, hitting the ground with soft thuds.
After waiting for any response from either tower, Elias crept towards the west, keeping out of the firelight, until he was close enough to see the soldiers clearly. None of them wore any green on their armor, so he signaled to the sea elves to attack.
Swiftly, silently, a dozen elves surged forward and clasped the soldiers around their mouths, slipping their knives through the chinks in their armor before even one could draw a sword. Glancing behind him, he could see his warriors making similar short work of the guards on the eastern tower while more elves climbed the walls. They drug the bodies into the darkened areas of the wall and towers, and started their work circling the city. There were eight towers and eight sections of walls, forming an octagon that surrounded the town inside, and they had taken two of the towers already. As he led his war party around the city to the west, Tataramoa led a group of elves to the east, towards the towers that flanked the gate on the eastern wall.
As they moved along the wall, Elias nocked an arrow to a bowstring, signaling to his warriors. As they drew closer to a pair of patrolling guards, Elias drew up, and took aim. A dozen arrows streaked through the night, killing the guards before they even knew they were dead. In this manner, they cleared two more towers. By this time, Elias could no longer see the force of elves that was circling in the opposite direction, but no alarm had been raised, no sign of a counterattack. As far as he could tell, nobody knew there were there yet.
It was on the fourth tower that they ran into trouble. As Elias crept up to the edge of the pool of light cast by the fire pot, one of the soldiers stood and turned from the group, laughing with the other soldiers.
“Sit tight, lads, I've got to piss.”
As he reached to open his trousers, he stepped away from the fire and looked directly at Elias. He gasped, and before Elias or his warriors could strike the man down, he drew his sword.
“To arms, men, to arms! We're-!”
A sea elf spear silenced him by thrusting into his mouth and through his skull, causing him to gurgle, convulse, and drop to the stone floor of the walkway. However, the damage was done. The other five guards leapt up, alerted to the presence of Elias and his warriors. Elias dropped his bow, and doffed the back harness to which his sword was attached as a dozen sea elves charged past him, clashing with the soldiers.
Though they were heavily armored, the elves had the element of surprise and took them quickly, though it did them little good in preserving their secrecy. Alarm bells started ringing throughout the city, alerting the soldiers within that they were being attacked.
His longer stride outpaced the sea elves at his side, and as he closed on the archers, some of them heard him. Two turned to face his war party, firing arrows at them. One arrow struck his shoulder, but glanced off of the dragon scales of his tunic. Another struck a sea elf in the chest, causing him to fall mid-stride. By that time, Elias was among the archers.
His blade flashed around him with blinding speed, slashing through the leather armor of the soldiers, striking them down as they tried to draw their swords. One of the archers had his blade leaning against the battlements, and he snatched it up, dropping his bow. He swung hard at Elias, shouting out a wordless warcry, and Elias met his blade with his own, swinging it like a club.
The soldier's sword shattered under the force of Elias's blow, bouncing off of Elias's arm. Elias recoiled, thrusting with all of his strength, and impaled the guard through the chest, under his sternum. Bracing his boot against the dying man's chest, Elias wrenched his blade free and followed his warriors to the battle on top of the nearby tower.
The soldiers had the upper hand, and were putting his companions to the sword, when Elias and the sea elves arrived from behind, tearing into them with fury. The tide turned quickly, and the soldiers were swiftly overwhelmed.
Thunderbolt (Dynasty of Storms Book 2) Page 13
