Awaken: Book 1 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

Much to our dismay, it had been abandoned for a few years and the place needed some serious work. The training yard was knee deep in weeds, the roofing needed to be replaced and who knew what state the interior was in. Nevertheless, I sobered up and set to work.

  I arranged for workers to make the necessary repairs to the building, both inside and outside, while I hired a few young boys to begin de-weeding the training yard. Within a day or so, it began to look respectable. A few days later, while the three of us were sitting on a bench under the shade of a large oak tree in the headquarters main courtyard, Jeroch rode up towards us in his horse.

  “Greetings,” He saluted us.

  “Good morning, friend. What brings you here?” I replied still sitting with a flagon of water.

  “Oh, just taking a ride here and there. How goes it here?”

  “Well, so far. The roof has been repaired. The walls have been repainted and you can see the training yard now. We were actually discussing our recruitment policy,” I informed him.

  “I was beginning to wonder how you would go about it. So what are your plans then?” he asked, joining us under the tree.

  “Well, we don’t want to be too big, or to small, so our full complement will be around three hundred men. But for now, maybe ten or so will be recruited. These will form the backbone of our officers we will need in the future. Once we have those men, we will send out word to various places that we are looking for veterans, whom we will put through some testing to see if they will make it. We are looking at forming something similar to what Max and myself belong to back on Earth.”

  “And these first ten recruits, I suppose that you will be taking them from my men?” Jeroch asked with a frown.

  Grinning at Max and Farpae, I dropped my own little bombshell on Jeroch.

  “Only one, for now. I want Thackeray to join us. Part of my three hundred men will be mages, seeing as magic is used here I will have to apply it as well when it comes to tactics and strategy planning.”

  Jeroch shook his head as he laughed at my request.

  “You do know that he won’t like that idea. It involves too much exercise.”

  We all laughed at that.

  “I will run it past the prince and Smoothie; it might actually be a brilliant idea. In the meantime, stop wasting time and get training. It’s almost autumn and Prince Marcus wants some men trained or training before troll season.”

  With that grim reminder about what we may face, he mounted his horse and rode back towards the city gates.

  “Damnit, he always has to ruin a perfectly good day,” Farpae said finishing his water.

  Max had an idea to scout out the caravan guards as they were generally veterans from the military who had gone into the business. There was a tavern near the harbour where they tended to hang out, waiting for clients to sail to the mainland. We headed that way ourselves, while Farpae remained behind to see to a few administration details.

  We rode up to the Bells and Whistles, the tavern where the caravan guards hung out, and tethered our horses. Outside stood a few rough-looking guards who eyed us up and down as we entered the place, I guess our earth combat fatigues really made us stand out. The place was fairly well lit with various lanterns hanging from the roof and a larger fireplace against the far wall adding to the glow. We made our way to an empty table in a secluded corner and ordered ale from the serving lady. The tavern was not too crowded at the moment. A few lonely souls drank at the bar counter or at tables by themselves.

  One character though, stood out. He was a broad-shouldered, thick limbed man. His long wavy black hair hung over his eyes as he stared intently into his mug. But it was his tense body language that drew me to him. It was as if he was waiting for something to happen. Under his hair, his eyes shifted the whole time, looking around for any signs of trouble. I nudged Max and nodded towards the man. Max took one look at him and leaned closer to me.

  “He’s one of us,” he whispered.

  “What you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “From Earth you ass. Check his boots out. Combat issue, probably Western European, German, I would go so far as to say.”

  “I see it now. He is hiding his combat bag under his cloak as well. Nervous bugger, isn’t he?” I observed.

  I nodded to Max and we rose with our mugs of ale and made our way to the stranger. We slid down onto the benches, one on either side of him.

  “So, where you from? Me, I’m from South Africa. Max here is from Brooklyn. You lost like us?” I asked him.

  This broke the ice before he put his icepick knife through my spleen.

  “Jawohl I am. My name is Titanius Wagner from Stuttgart. Pleased to meet you.” He slipped his knife back under his sleeve.

  “I thought I was the only dummkopf here from Earth. Last time I listen to old men and the dream promises.”

  Max and I looked at each other and explained our similar stories to his.

  “So what are you two doing here then?” he asked us shaking his head.

  “Well, we made friends with the local prince, and he asked us to start up a mercenary company which we have just done. We actually came here looking to start recruiting some possible members, and fate would have it we found you,” I explained.

  “Lucky for you I am still here. I was waiting for a new caravan to join.”

  “What you do back home? Max asked.

  “You are interviewing me now?” he responded.

  “Yes we are. You have a problem with that?” Max replied.

  “Yes, my mug is empty and I am thirsty.”

  I burst out laughing and signalled to the serving girl for another round for us.

  “I like him already,” Max said grinning to me.

  “I am, was, a sergeant as you would call it in English, in the SGS tactical police unit based in Stuttgart. Also did my basic military training in the Landsmag, infantry division, mainly as heavy weapons expert.”

  “Fair enough, want the job? We are putting together a company of fighters loosely based on our spec ops backgrounds, adapted to our new surroundings,” I ended by waving my arms around to encompass our new home.

  “I have nothing better to do. What do I do the under you? I assume you are the commandant?” Titanius asked me in a thick German accent.

  “Yep, got a captain’s rank, you will be part of my officer’s backbone alongside Max here and a few others as we find them. Otherwise, for now, we have a drink to welcome you in before trying to find some more worthy fighters to join us,” I raised my mug to welcome Titanius.

  Max and Titanius raised theirs in return as we downed the last of our ale before leaving the Bells and Whistles. We made our way back to the HQ as we started calling it, walking with Titanius, who didn’t have a horse. He carried his single backpack on his shoulders over a large wooden kite shield, rimmed with metal. He was only armed with the ice-pick hidden up his sleeve and a large hunting knife, the size of a machete, which hung off his belt on the left side. I asked he if that is all he has to fight with.

  “No,” he replied, “I had a double-bladed axe, but lost it in a skirmish on some plains to the east of us fighting off bandits who had attacked a caravan I was protecting.”

  Later that night, we were all sitting in the HQ mess hall eating a tasty, thick stew filled with large chunks of meat and vegetables and fresh loaves of bread. Farpae had hired one of the best cooks in the city to cook for us - his reasoning being that if we used unorthodox fighting methods for the prince then he could damn well pay for us to eat properly. We sure as hell weren’t going to complain.We were discussing what command format to follow, and I tried to explain my vision for us.

  “I see us in the future being about two hundred strong, but until there is a need for us to be so big we start off small and as we add recruits we can expand it. This is how we will structure it,” I started to explain.

  “For now until we can train enough men, I want a squad or two of ten men. The idea will be to use these men, veterans all of them,
as the backbone of the officers for the entire company.”

  I began to draw a rough sketch on the table top using a piece of charcoal.

  “Essentially I want the company to be composed of small squads of five men with the ability to operate independently. Ten squads to a platoon, four platoons to form the company,” I said.

  “I take it we will cross train into the various weapons’ available?” asked Titanius.

  “Yep, I want us to be as proficient as possible in everything available. If there is a need to form a shield wall like the Romans did, then so be it. If we must initiate a cavalry charge in a wedge formation I want us to know which way to point the spears. And, most importantly, all types of ranged weaponry such as crossbows and longbows will be a compulsory requirement to train in. If I can kill off the enemy before he gets close to me with his sword the better for me.”

  “And training with the prince’s allies?” Farpae asked, taking me a bit by surprise.

  “Excellent question Farpae. Absolutely, we must train with Prince Marcus’s allies in their own environment. That way we increase our own expertise and knowledge on possible tactics to use against the other races.”

  “Just one question from me for now, Bob,” Max began. “I know from personal experience that a lot of mercenaries on Earth limited themselves to people of their own ideology or race. And I would assume that something similar happens here. I trust that we won’t be so stupid to hinder ourselves with that policy?”

  “Max I could not have said it better myself. We would be extremely foolish not to include some of the other races. If the elves or dwarves want to join then let them. If a woman wants to join I will not stop her. As long as the applicant can fulfil the minimum requirements of being a veteran, and they can complete the basic training they will be welcomed with open arms.”

  We spoke until late that night, formulating various plans and strategies for us to go forward with the idea. Eventually we all drifted off to our rooms and took long to fall asleep, my mind ticking over with excitement.

  The next morning Max and I headed off to see a blacksmith to order armour, while I sent Farpae and Titanius to find a tailor to make us uniforms based on our current clothing.

  The blacksmith we were looking for produced most of the prince’s equipment and was located near the docks where he could bring in a steady supply of raw materials. We tethered our horses outside and entered through a well-made wooden front door. We were warmly greeted by a well-dressed salesman who asked if he could be of assistance. After explaining what I was looking for, he gave us a confused look and excused himself to go and speak to the head smith at the back.

  We waited patiently, looking at various weapons and armour on display. A few minutes later the assistant returned with the blacksmith, a broad-shouldered man, dirty from his work. I explained to him what I was looking for and he said that he has never made anything like that before, but perhaps the dwarves could be of more assistance as they liked to experiment. We thanked him and left, feeling dejected.

  “I think we should go and speak to Jeroch about this. It is obvious that the locals don’t know about the armour we are looking for. Maybe he can contact the dwarves for us and see if they can make our armour, otherwise its back to the drawing board for us,” I told Max.

  “Otherwise we must look for somebody young and willing enough to start experimenting on armour and employ him full-time. We may end up having to do that,” Max suggested.

  I grunted a response as we rode into the city to find Jeroch. We found him in his study in the castle, and after explaining what we were looking for and what the blacksmith said, he shook his head, also in confusion.

  “Your armour that you are looking for is rather unique, and I have no knowledge of any human blacksmith making that armour type,” he said.

  “But I will send a request to the dwarven ambassador here and request a meeting with him. Maybe he has knowledge as to where to have this strange armour made.”

  He wrote a note on a piece of parchment, sealed it and gave it to a page.

  While we waited for a reply, I told him what we had discussed the night before. He said he would put the word out to his commanders throughout the princedom to recommend suitable candidates and to send them here as soon as possible. He suggested we meet with Prince Marcus soon to discuss our progress as well. I told him whenever he was available, we will be there and I will bring our new member, Titanius along as well.

  A reply was delivered soon, bringing some good news. The ambassador was free to meet with us now if we would like to join him now. Not one to miss out a free lunch, Max and I both immediately said yes. Grinning at each other, we followed the page to the ambassador’s private chambers within the castle.

  “So you’re the strange men that I have been hearing about,” the ambassador said once we had entered his chamber study.

  We were still wearing our Earth combat fatigues and boots, but had also donned thick capes as well since autumn was approaching.

  “Yes, sir we are. My name is Robert, Bob for short, and this is Max, my friend and second in command.” We each shook the ambassador’s out stretched hand.

  “My reports weren’t lying about your strange attire or accent either,” he indicated our clothing. “And now it seems you want strange armour as well. None that the human blacksmiths are willing to try and think of, never mind make, am I correct?” He directed us to sit on low chairs, designed for the dwarves low stature.

  “You are most correct sir,” I answered.

  “Please, call me Granitetooth.”

  “Granitetooth, we need specific armour made to suit our needs, and Commander Jeroch recommended that we speak to you to see if you have knowledge of who can make it.”

  “Our race has been around for many years, along with the elves, so it is possible. You humans tend to forget that. Now, I need specifics as to what you are looking for.”

  Max and I explained our need for armour that allowed for great flexibility when it came to movement, the need for it to be light as possible but strong enough to protect against most cutting blades and piercing weapons, with the ability to be able to move silently as possible without it jingling like a bell. I tried to draw upper armour similar to a Roman legionnaire’s which had overlapping strips of metal held together by wire. This would help blunt the force of arrows and if used with a chainmail type of armour underneath, it would be effective against most weapons. The major problem would be the weight of carrying all of that armour around then fighting in it.

  “We have dabbled a bit in similar armour before, but we have never had a need for it. Let me send a few enquires and I will get back to you with an answer if we can supply you with it,” Granitetooth told us.

  “Sir, we would need the blacksmith to relocate here if it can be made. Prince Marcus doesn’t quite know it yet, but we would be requiring our own armourer and weaponsmith soon. We have some specialised equipment we would need made in the future,” Max explained.

  “Interesting, tell me, what are the entrance requirements for your company?” Ambassador Granitetooth asked.

  “All who apply must be veterans, and be willing to take a fitness test that may vary from a few days to few weeks. Other than that, not much else, if they can pass the fitness tests,” I answered.

  “Let me get back to you within a few days and I should have some news for you,” Granitetooth said to us in farewell.

  “Wonder what that was about?” Max asked me as we went to get our horses.

  Before I could answer him, a servant found us and asked us to meet with the prince in his private meeting hall. We turned around with a shrug and headed towards the hall. Waiting outside were Farpae and Titanius, who paced nervously.

  “Relax bud, the prince isn’t that bad. He’s actually quite friendly,” Max told him.

  “Easy for you to say,” he replied, his German accent noticeably thicker.

  A servant opened the door, stuck his head out and gestured for u
s to follow him through. Prince Marcus sat at his study table, with Jeroch opposite him.

  “Ah, Bob, glad you were still here. I trust your meeting with the ambassador was fruitful?” Prince Marcus asked.

  “Yes, sir it seems so. He said he would get back to us within a few days with an answer,” I replied.

  “Excellent. Welcome Titanius to my little kingdom. I trust that your stay has been pleasant so far?” Prince Marcus enquired.

  “Jawohl, your highness, except for bandits on the Fertile Plains, it has been rather pleasant,” Titanius replied.

  “Bandits on the Fertile Plains? Jeroch, do you know about this?” Prince Marcus asked.

  “Yes, my prince. I did send you a report about it a few days ago. It seems that the attacks on caravans have increased slightly, until a foreign man wearing strange attire attached himself to one caravan as a guard and drove them off, minus a few members,” Jeroch reminded Prince Marcus.