Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Forging a New Alliance

Jerald frowned as he let the distance glass drop from his eye.  From his vantage point on top of one of the guard towers standing on either side of the massive Spring Gate, he didn't need the glass to see the column of Quada marching down the Giant's Way towards the city but he wanted to make a head count himself to see what they were facing.  Unfortunately the glass had confirmed both his fears and Kent's original estimates.  At least ten thousand Quada, armed and prepared for battle, were advancing on Tal Morun's western walls after bypassing her outer defensive perimeter with nary a word.  More than enough to hammer into Talemon's capital, despite her puissant walls and heavily armed garrison.

A true son of Keva and a master tactician himself, it didn't take Jerald long to guess how the Quada would do it: seige engines to soften up the defenses, battering rams to break through the reinforced gates then a charge of Quadan ground forces to breech.  It would be almost too easy, with the bulk of the Talemonese military scattered over the western Aramas, searching for the Westmarch rebels, or on the other side of the Giant's Teeth, engaging Kaphran and Hernakese forces beside his father's Warjammers.  Fight as they may, Jerald, Kent and the Central Command now faced one of the strongest mortal races on the face of Ramnor and against their strength, the humans of Tal Morun would surely fall.

The question of how answered, the war king of Talemon couldn't help but find his mind turning towards another question, even as his eyes drank in the ordered columns and rigid Quadan ranks continuing forward without pause.  That question was the same that had come to Kent, after hearing of the Quadan advance.  Why.  Why had the Quada quit their deep southern strongholds to march on a human city over eight cycles removed from Urud's rule?

It was no secret that Urud persecuted the proud and noble centaur race during his rule and that a number of southern lords of the land still carried deep-seated prejudices against the Quada.  However no major incursion against the Quada had been launched since Urud's removal from the Star of Aramas throne.  The Quada had no reason to fear or hate Tal Morun, Talemon, its ruler or its people.

"So why are you here?" Jerald muttered tightly just as a squad of soldiers ran past behind him, armor jingling and their sheathed swords slapping against their thighs.

In their shadow strode Kent, looking almost like a soldier himself in a plain breastplate, bracers, vambraces, leggings and greaves over his uniform.  A heavy longsword, marked with the crest of his family, rode at his hip.  He came to a halt a pace behind Jerald's right shoulder, pulling on armored gauntlets as he too gazed out at the approaching army.

"A good question, sire," the whip-corn lean general said with a look of thoughtful curiosity, settling the gauntlets around his fingers before reaching for the helmet he had dangling by its chin strap from his belt to free it and tuck it under one arm.  "We can only hope it isn't to make their war upon us."

Jerald tightly nodded.  A valid hope indeed; there was no way he wanted to go nose to nose with the Quada.  But he was also a son of Keva, from a long line of warriors.  If the Quada were about to make war on Tal Morun and the people of Talemon, he would give them a bloody nose they'd remember for a hundred lifetimes!

Before he could turn and give the command to complete the final deployment, however, there was a shout from one of the forward defensive positions, a cluster of towers and battlements a good ten lengths from the gates themselves.  Too distant for the shout to be clearly made out, Jerald was forced to turn to Kent, who was frowning as he watched signals being made with flags from the towers' top.

"Well?" he grated when he saw Kent's face tighten.  "What do they report?"

"A handful of Quada have broken away from the main company, sire."  Kent looked at Jerald, confusion plain on his long face.