Overlord Read Free

slammed into the earth around them.
    The wind picked up just as the last of the missiles fell. The blow had gone from only a breeze to gale force in less than five minutes. The northern lights were burning through the darkness as they had never done before. At that time every man of the Ninth Legion felt the penetration and assault on their inner ear. It was as if a sharp spike had been driven into their eyes. The feeling soon passed as men fought to get their bearings in the rising storm.
    “The attack has stopped!” Pettellus shouted as he stood. He shook his head to clear it and casually pulled an arrow from the lining of his red cloak, then angrily tossed the black stick into the fire. The rain was now falling as if pebbles were being thrown at them from the heights and the wind was threatening the footing of every man inside the stockade.
    His commanders were starting to report on casualties and to receive orders when the lights illuminated the entire breadth of the night sky, and that was when the centurion saw what evil had suddenly come upon them. Rock-sized hail started to fall. Some of the ice stones were larger than a man’s closed fist, while others were larger than a two- or three-pound stone. The hail destroyed tents and knocked running men from their feet.
    “The savages have broken off and are retreating!” one of his men said just as a ball of chain lightning rent the skies above them. Blue and green bolts shot through the swirling raindrops and snaked across the black sky enough to illuminate the circling motion of the storm.
    “Tell the men to hold position at the stockade, as I fear this attack may not be over!” Pettellus shouted as his men quickly moved away watching the skies as they did. “This storm may keep them out … then again it may not.”
    As he watched the terror of his men start to show on their faces, Pettellus looked at the sky as lightning again ripped across its blackness. The swirling clouds above the stockade made his blood turn cold. The hurricane-like storm was now directly atop the Roman army. Men were thrown to the wet ground as more of the evil green and blue lightning broke the skies apart with such violence the men of the mighty Ninth Legion cowered in terror. As Pettellus’s eyes widened, yellow, green, and orange bolts shot out of the center of the swirling mass above. The air rose underneath the helmet of the centurion. The crack of heat and electricity filled the air and the earth shook beneath their prone bodies.
    “The savages are attacking!”
    Centurion Pettellus turned as his helmet was ripped away by the wind and rain. The enemy had seen the chance and were now breaching the stockade under the cover of the storm. The moat was now gone, pushed and pulled free of the trench by the storm, and that gave the Caledonians clear access to the wooden barrier.
    “Defense!” The order was shouted as men rose to meet the attackers as the barbarians streamed over the stockade in a man-made rush of a waterfall.
    The sky exploded.
    A green bubble formed within the eye of the storm directly over the battle. The swirling clouds seemed to implode and then expand. At that moment the sky became as bright as the sun and forced every man, both barbarian and legionnaire, to freeze in fear.
    The centurion turned to shout orders as the savages broke into the center of his still-forming men. Before he could utter a sound the sky exploded and the buzzing was heard all around them, piercing and deep. The green dome exited the swirling hurricane above and slammed into the ground. Pettellus felt his skin warm and then he felt his stomach heave as though trying to rid itself of the afternoon meal he had eaten earlier. His tongue was like a cotton swab and his vision became nonexistent. Then all was gone. Sensation along with thought vanished as the light washed over him and his men.
    The storm stopped as if it had never been. The rain ceased and the clouds circled into nothingness and