The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) by Anthony Gillis Read Free Book Online

Aledri troops were iron-disciplined, and growing more so under Lurios.
    Mordvan; the tall, lean tribune in the red-brown of Teroia had come to his position as the last man standing, with his general dead and his senior tribune still bedridden and unconscious after nearly dying during the assault on Avrosa. The soldiers of Teroia were disciplined and capable. Talaos hoped Mordvan's loyalty was matched by capability as a commander.
    Drevan; Talaos's friend since the battle of the pass, the short, energetic cavalryman was leader of Megasi's forces here only due to the disgrace of every officer above him. On the other hand, he had proven himself at the pass, and he and most of the black and purple uniformed Megasi men were eager to wash away the shame of their former general's cowardice.
    Ordias; the best thing that could really be said for the stout, brown-clad and suddenly risen captain from the League of Padra was that he was definitively untainted by Dromno's treason. Talaos thought the troops of that league, after so much dissension, were probably the weakest of all his forces. But, time would tell.
    Megaras; the trim, intense, black-haired man was, at thirty-two apparently the youngest ever to wear the silver breastplate and gray uniform of the General of Avrosa. He'd been a junior tribune prior to being purged for opposition to the Prophet's ascendancy in Avrosa. He would likely have been marked for death had not Talaos overturned everything, and in turn was now intensely loyal. Thus far, he'd proven competent and eager to do whatever he could for the cause. With an army that Talaos was building as fast as possible, he hoped he'd promoted the right man.
    Maxano; the aristocratic General of Kyras, in his white, black, and gold, was probably the most surprising of all the commanders here. He'd switched sides and given up his post as senior commander of the enemy army, risking all on the rightness of Talaos's cause. Word was that Maxano was a very experienced, capable general, and his discontent at answering to inexperienced philosophical zealots had greatly contributed to his defection. Talaos intended to try to avoid the mistakes of the Prophet's emissaries.
    Ilirios; the stout, older, general of the city of Mileno, in his silver segmented armor and purple-red uniform, seemed an unlikely defector as well. He certainly showed no fanaticism for Talaos's cause, but it had been the very fanaticism of the Prophet's emissaries that repelled him to begin with. By all accounts, he was a competent officer.
    Gavro; at the battle of the pass, in his then blood-stained green cloak and battle-scarred armor, the tough General of Imperi had ordered Talaos's death at all costs. Now, they were together fighting against a greater foe. It was strange that many of the cavalry who’d fought with such grim mercilessness on both sides, including men who'd stabbed him atop the pile of their fellows’ corpses, were here now ready to chance their lives with him. Talaos felt honored to have such fearless men of war at his side.
    Hadrastus; the towering, fair-skinned, bronze-armored General of the League of Five was half Jotunheimer. He might well be, through some long-ago foremother, his distant kin. Of all the men in the army, he had the most unusual reason for loyalty, and Talaos wondered what might come of the tale of the Summer Kings. If he was the heir of such, he intended to live up to it. Talaos thought Hadrastus had certainly proven his fearsomeness in battle.
    Beyond the senior leaders were massed rows of tribunes, chieftains, and captains. Together, they made a large and unwieldy group, assembled by happenstance. It would be his job to forge them into a cohesive leadership. Talaos was thankful that some of them had decades of experience to draw on. His powers and decisiveness had carried things a long way, but tomorrow would be a large scale battle, and these commanders' depth of experience would be key to victory.
    In total, the army had