Awaken: Book 1 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  “Allow me to translate what this cretin has said. He is Woth, my older brother. He demanded that I slay you, and join him in this morning’s raid. He is rather unhappy that I stand behind you as a slave in his eyes and promises to do most horrid things to your body once he has bitten off your head himself,” Fremod translated.

  Fremod answered in his own language, before switching back to English for our understanding.

  “All of you understand the language of these humans. I speak in their language so that they may understand us. I, Fremod son of Rodic declare that our lessons to the humans have finally come to an end. I declare that our most ancient prophecies are being fulfilled as I speak here. I declare by my birth right that all raids are to cease, and formal trading to commence,” Fremod said in a loud voice for all the trolls to hear.

  Woth gave an ugly laugh at that, turning to look at his two companions on either side of him. The other trolls seemed uneasily at this declaration, and the shaman stepped forward to speak.

  “I recognise you Fremod, you speak the truth. I shall turn and lead this raiding party back with the glorious news that you have brought us. All trolls shall hail you a hero! Your father shall be most pleased with you,” the shaman said, bowing towards Fremod.

  “What rubbish you speak Brother,” Woth spat. “Your brains must have been frozen within your head on your crossing here. You declare peace, yet behind you are the bodies of our fallen brothers.”

  Turning around to look, I grimaced at that oversight.

  “A small reminder to us all that this human in front of me with whom I now share a blood bond is of the prophecy. I have warned you once, Brother, now go back to Father and tell him of the news, before you regret your decisions.”

  “Never! Humans are nothing more than playthings for us! Ready to kill and destroy! If I get my way when I am king, all of humanity will become our slaves!” Woth shouted angrily, froth forming in the corner of his mouth.

  His two companions seemed to heave with rage, eyes glowing an angry red.

  “I have warned you Woth,” was all Fremod said.

  He pushed me one side with his hand, before stepping forward to meet his brother. He swung his maul high over his head before running and jumping in the air, bringing the massive hammer down in a powerful overhead swing down on his brother’s head. He smashed the skull to pieces and compressed the spine as the body was forced through the ice. Before I could even blink, Fremod swung the maul to his right, caving the troll’s chest in from the force. He carried through with the swing, turning it into a backhand swing and smashed the last troll on the side of his head, crushing the skull. All of this happened in a white blur. By the time he had finished his attack, I had drawn my sword and given the signal for my men in their foxholes. The platoon rose like spectral warriors, boar-hunting spears at the ready, only to witness the last troll topple over, dead.

  “I have issued my declaration, and have issued the warning. The prophecy is unfolding before us and lo and behold, those of us who fail to take heed as my brother and his lackeys did. They shall be punished as well. Go forth and issue my declaration to my father, so he may spread the word to all trolls,” Fremod declared once again to the remaining trolls.

  “So it shall be. I will set forth from here and spread the word,” the shaman agreed.

  Without a further word, the trolls turned back to where they had come from, and disappeared into the oncoming fog.

  “Holy crap! Did you see how fast Fremod moved?” Max exclaimed.

  “Never even saw him move!” Sandstone said astonished.

  “Well, Fremod, I think you have some explaining to do,” I said, dead serious.

  Fremod nodded and walked off towards the city, with us in tow.

  A worried Prince Marcus met us at the city gates, his bodyguards keeping a sharp eye on Fremod, especially after seeing his destructive power moments ago.

  “Hail, Prince Marcus. May peace reign over your rule from now. My declaration shall be received by my father and he will send a delegation to meet peacefully with you to discuss the way forward,” Fremod said before Prince Marcus could say anything.

  “And what pray tell would the way forward be?” the prince asked.

  “Why, our mutual trade agreements and possible defensive agreements. Peace between us opens up whole new avenues of trade for all,” Fremod answered. “We have been trading with various other races for hundreds of years, except you humans. Now we can officially open those trade routes, amongst other things.”

  We left a perplexed prince and his retinue and made our way to the HQ, leaving the heavy infantry to clean up the mess left behind.

  “Alright, start talking,” I told Fremod once we were cleaned up.

  “Do you understand about self-fulfilled prophecies?” he asked me.

  “Yeah, that’s when you hear a prophecy and follow it to the tee so that it comes true for you or something like that,” I said.

  “Something like that yes, well, that is what I had just done,” Fremod confessed. “We do have an ancient prophecy about foreigners from a different world that come together to help the people of this land against a terrible threat. You may be foreigners here in this land, but as of yet there are only four of you here, together forming this company. The prophecy speaks of many more coming together. And then there is the part of the danger which will occur which would threaten the freedom of all who live on this land, human and non-human. Besides the conflict between the prince and his family, there is no such threat.”

  “So you used this prophecy for your own needs?” Deez asked.

  “Yes you are quite correct. Politics is rather messy and complicated between trolls. My father needs to choose a successor soon otherwise he will be disposed of by a council. At the moment there were three factions within my family vying to become the successor - my oldest brother, Rodic the Gentle, Woth and a distant uncle from another city far to the north. Woth was an animal, even to his own people. He would have brought our great nation to its knees, enslaving all before to fill his carnal, sick needs. I support Rodic, so the prophecy was an opportune time to eliminate the competition, so to say,” Fremod ended with a sly smile.

  “Real slick, Fremod, and here I thought us Americans were the only ones who used sharp knives for politics,” Max said.

  Fremod grinned at this and, while the few of us from Earth laughed, the rest looked on confused.

  “What will happen now? Can we expect more raids in the meantime? Will your father accept all that has happened here?” I fired off the questions to Fremod, who shrugged.

  “My father will accept what I have done. As for the raids, Woth was the main driving force behind them. They should stop now at least until the peace treaty is signed or not. If not signed, then I fear we will face certain invasion by my father’s army. Then all here will face annihilation or enslavement. But I am positive all will be right in the end,” Fremod said.

  We ended the day with a small debriefing before calling it an early night. I wasn’t sure that we had heard the last from the trolls now that this prophecy was out in the open.

  My gut feel was spot on. Late one night, a few nights after the major confrontation between Fremod and Woth, a blinding flash followed by the screech of something in pain woke us. I stormed out my room armed with my sword and wearing only my boxers.

  A small troll was rolling on the floor of the passage way covered in red and green magical flames. A second troll turned to run away, but stopped when it saw the passage way blocked by armed men who started to emerge from their rooms. The surviving troll, seeing no avenue of escape, plunged a poisoned dagger deep into its own heart. It died instantly, followed soon by the twitching, burning troll. Thackeray emerged from the room looking mighty pleases that his magical fire trap worked as intended.

  “Your hunch was right Bob. Looks like some trolls won’t leave this matter to rest.”

  “Ja, but I never expected assassins, never mind Hill Troll assassins,” I a
nswered Thackeray.

  “It is not uncommon for the Hill Trolls to be used in such a manner. They are usually very effective for such assassinations. This one seems to be of the Lesser Green Clan, known for their assassins,” Fremod said.

  “We will have to double the guards from now on, and Thackeray, get some wards up to sense these buggers before they can get inside,” I left the men to clean up the mess while I wrote a report for Jeroch.

  I sealed the letter with wax and sent it off first thing the next morning. Things seemed to be getting more exciting for us lately.

  Winter really kicked in soon after that. A series of snow storms buffeted the island, depositing metres deep snowdrifts over the entire island. We were reduced to training indoors during that time, which was fine for us but Fremod was too big to do much other than take on the role of an instructor. He did teach us a few fighting styles the trolls use for various weapons, mainly two-handed weapons. Every few days we did venture out to train in the snow. It was cold and miserable and I hated doing it, but it was necessary. We had to be prepared to fight anywhere, at anytime.

  Once in a while, when the sun did shine, a large group of citizens gathered on the city walls to watch us train, and also to see for themselves what a real live troll looked like. There was no end to volunteers either to join us, but for now we were not recruiting until spring, and as always, our recruitment policy would be strict and rigid.

  It was a rare crisp, sunny day, a week after the winter solstice, just as the locals were finishing with their celebrations that winter was soon to come to an end, when a messenger runner pounded into the HQ looking for me. Out of breath, he bade me to attend to Jeroch at the city gates. A lone troll had been spotted on the beach dressed in full battle armour, but carrying a flag of some sort. I ordered my men to prepare themselves and within ten minutes we were jogging at a steady trot, wearing snowshoes, towards the gates.

  Jeroch stood just inside the gates with two companies of heavy infantry ready to march out to meet the troll, while men were scrambling behind him, racing for the long stairs up the outer walls to man their positions. The heavy snow-falls had rendered our booby traps useless, as it was too thick for the caltrops to do anything, and the weight of it had filled the pits of spikes.

  “Jeroch, I got your message. Any news as to what it wants?” I asked him when we reached him, flipping him a quick salute.

  “No nothing as yet. He appeared there almost out of thin air, and just stood on the beach bearing a flag in front of him. He has not moved since. I sent for you so that you can go and negotiate with him, seeing as you are part of their prophecy,” he said with slight disgust in his voice, looking over my head at Fremod, who stood behind my platoon like a behemoth.

  I never said a word, just nodded before leading my men out to meet with the lone troll. I motioned for Fremod to join me up front, and asked him what the deal was.

  “Well captain, depending on the flag being hoisted, it is either a formal declaration of war, or an envoy for peace.”

  Great, keep me in suspense then.

  We marched on the snow-covered ground outside the castle walls, where the original defence lines from earlier in the season were. The only visible objects were the scorpion platforms and here and there a tank trap peaked out from under the snow. The sun glinted off the soft, powdery snow as we approached the troll, the flag hanging limp on the standard in the still air. I called a halt, the men standing to attention but ready to spring into action should the need arise, while Fremod, Max and I approached the troll.

  “Greetings, great leader of the foreigners!” it boomed across the snow for all to hear.

  “I bring news from the great King Rodic. Behold the flag of peace!” With that it waved a white flag with a simple blue square in the middle high in the sky.

  “Greetings, troll, I am Captain Bob, and I accept the flag of peace. However, you should be speaking to the prince instead of me. I’m only the messenger.”

  Bait was more like it. We were sacrifices if things went pear shaped, and we knew it. Many people did not trust the trolls with peace. Jeroch was one of them.

  “Great Captain Bob, you are mistaken. I am sent to offer peace to you and you alone. The prince of this land is yet to prove himself to us. If he is too fearful to meet with me, then perhaps they are not ready for peace.”

  “This complicates things,” I said to Max.

  “Okay, I have accepted the peace flag, now what?” I asked the troll.

  “I return to my king, who is but a day’s march away awaiting your decision. It is his prerogative to decide what to do, not for me to try and second guess him.”

  “Fremod, you’re very quiet. What do you think?” I asked him before the troll messenger left.

  “You may trust this troll. He is my older brother Rodic the Gentle. He speaks true.”

  “Well met Brother. I was relieved to hear that you were still breathing,” Rodic greeted Fremod.

  “Well met Brother. I was filled with regret at first after my capture, until I realised what was unfolding before my eyes. Rather convenient that Woth chose to defy me as well. It played right into your hands did it not?”

  “Yes, most convenient how these prophecies work,” Rodic agreed with a slight smile.

  I had decided. “Right, go back to your father and tell him I will be honoured to meet with him within two days right on this very spot, out in the open to prevent any accidents from happening, weather permitting of course.”

  “Excellent, great Captain Bob, it shall be a most beautiful day. Our shaman shall work day and night to ensure it will be. Farewell Bob the Great, farewell brother,” Rodic bowed low before he turned to leave.

  He blew one sharp whistle as he walked. Behind us like white wraiths of death, four huge trolls, bigger than Fremod or his brother by almost a head, rose deadly quiet from behind my men and simply walked right past us to join Rodic on the ice on his journey back to his father the king.

  The platoon barely had time to react to the sudden rise of the trolls before they were past them and on the ice. A string of various involuntary curses leapt out of the men’s mouths as we were all caught by surprise.

  “What the…?” was all I managed to say.

  “Mmm, I should have known that my father’s personal bodyguards would be alongside my brother,” Fremod said.

  I gave him a dirty look, before staring at the standard that had been thrust deep into the snow. Things were really getting interesting now.

  The long walk back to meet with Prince Marcus and Jeroch was a blur. I met them at the gate-house, where a hasty meeting was held in the gate commander’s office. Max and Fremod joined us, but Fremod had to sit outside the door as there was no room for him within the office itself. Also, one could actually chew the hostility radiating off of Jeroch and some of his captains. I quickly informed the prince of what was said and decided.

  I stepped back and lent against a wall while the room exploded in an angry buzz of words. Accusations flew at me, ranging from treason to plotting a coup against the crown. I ignored all of this, and kept my gaze on Prince Marcus, who returned the stare, keeping quiet throughout the tirade from his commanders and advisors.

  “Enough,” Was all he said quietly.

  The angry buzz gradually died down, all of us waiting to hear what Prince Marcus was about to say.

  “Enough of this bickering, gentlemen. I am ashamed of the behaviour that all of my so-called advisors are displaying here,” he looked each man in the eyes before carrying on.

  “Not one of you has the courage to do what Bob and his men have displayed this past winter. We stand on the brink of something significant, and all you can do is find reasons not to pursue peace. We all know what the trolls are capable of. We know what they have done to us in the past, we all know what they are capable of should they feel the need. Take a look out the door. Take a good, long hard look,” Prince Marcus pointed at Fremod.

  “Here sits a prince, my equal,
humbly on the floor before me. As big and powerful as he is, he acknowledges the need for peace. He came out of his own to offer peace despite obvious danger to himself, not only from us, but from his own kind, his own family. He killed his own brother to try and ensure that peace. Where are we better than them? We are not. We should be the ones, no, let me rephrase that, I should be the one sitting on the floor in front of Fremod begging for peace for my people. I should be offering a knighthood, dukedom, lands, and my entire rule to Bob and his men for doing so much with so little.”

  The commanders shifted uneasily among themselves as the words sank in.

  “But no, you want to condemn them instead. You want to carry on with a fight we cannot ever hope to win. You disgust me, to think that I call you advisors. Your advice today will surely end up enslaving us all. I should dismiss every single one of you. If I was anything like my sister you would all lose your heads.”