by Shawn Muller
“Sir, the orcs have left the camp and seem to have split up with half headed back towards Prince Owyne’s lines and the other half towards the fake rally point,” he reported.
I nodded my thanks and sent him to make contact with Prince Marcus’s scouts for me. Babar shook his head dejectedly at the news.
“It seems that they think me dead. Instead of pursuing you, they head back to the prince in vain. I fear that this battle will be lost before they arrive,” he told me.
“Perhaps. But stranger things have happened during a war, I’ve noticed,” I replied.
A few hours later saw us, under an escort of cavalry units, entered Prince Marcus’s evening camp. I left Max in charge to make camp while Fremod and I headed off to meet with the prince, Babar in tow.
“Bob! So glad to see that you are still with us!” Prince Marcus greeted me warmly with a strong embrace.
“Glad to be here, sir,” I replied.
“You know Fremod, sir, and may I introduce Commander Babar, our guest for now,” I said to Prince Marcus and Queen Canderson.
“Commander Babar. Welcome to our camp. It is a pity it is not under slightly better circumstances,” Prince Marcus greeted him.
“Thank you, sire. Yes, it does seem that your men have bested us this time around. Queen Canderson, you are looking lovely as per usual,” Babar said to the Southern Orc queen with a deep bow.
“I am very surprised, Babar, that you allowed yourself to be captured so easily,” Queen Canderson replied.
“Yes, my congratulations to Commander Bob, and his men. They simply out-foxed us. But beware next time we will not be caught like this again,” he said with a wicked smile.
“Right you are, Babar. Guards, please escort our guest to the prisoners’ camp,” Prince Marcus ordered some of his men.
“Please, enter my tent and share with us your tales of valour,” he said, eyes gleaming under the dusky sky.
I led Fremod into the tent where we were offered a goblet of spiced wine. I related our raids to the prince and his commanders, with Fremod filling in what he did at our final stand. I left out the assassination attempt. That, I felt, was an internal issue to be sorted out by the Ghosts - we look after our own and will sort our own problems out.
Tachojay had already reported directly to the prince on his exploits while we were away, which Jeroch filled us in on. Operation Low Blow was a success. The enemy army was effectively leaderless. Orc, elven and human commanders were either dead or captured, and the disruption to their supplies has affected their preparedness. Prince Marcus estimated that by the end of tomorrow we would have bested them in the field.
It was late by the time Fremod and I left the prince’s tent. We made our way back to our camp on the outskirts of the main camp, where we grabbed a warm bowl of stew. Tachojay was sleeping, as were most of the men that he had led, so a final debriefing would have to wait until tomorrow. After my lovely warm meal, the first in a while, I made the rounds, checking on the sentries before heading off to my own tent to sleep.
“Commander Bob,” a woman with a soft voice called out to me.
I looked around and noticed Mia sitting on a log close to a fire.
“Care to join me for a mug of warm milk?” she offered.
“Sure,” I replied, taking a mug from her and joining her on the log.
“I would like to congratulate you on your victories so far,” she said to me.
“Thank you, ma’am, but the battle isn’t over yet.”
“Yes it is. My fellow watchers in the enemy camp have told me that Prince Owyne’s army is effectively leaderless and rudderless. Any meeting of arms between the two armies would result in Prince Owyne’s army being routed, utterly,” she.
“Well, that is interesting.” I took a sip of the warm milk.
“What are your plans for after the games, Commander Bob?” she asked after a few moments.
“Well, I will head off once more towards my headquarters and continue to build up the Ghost Company, and serve the prince as and how needs be I suppose.” I shrugged.
“I see. And tell me are you looking for any specific recruits?”
“Everybody is welcome. If they make the entry requirements, then they can try out for the company. If they pass the training then we will take them in.”
“I see. Well, thank you, Commander Bob, and good night.” She stood up and walked off towards her tent.
“Goodnight, Mia,” I said, perplexed as to what she was getting at.
I headed off to my tent and fell as sleep as soon as my head hit the rolled-up blanket I used as a pillow.
That night I had some strange dreams. In the first one I was running through a dark, moonless night, surrounded by orc and human warriors. We ran past a pair of elven rangers who stood guard with bows nocked. We approached an earthen wall, which we scaled quickly. Looking down the other side was a military camp, cooking fires lit, tents in a neat row, but no other activity within.
It changed then to a sunny day, we were fighting a deadly foe - we were surrounded and outnumbered. Under attack by giant like people, but they were too blurry to make out any details. Suddenly a giant demon swooped down on them and opened an escape route for us.
I was riding a horse deep in a mountain. The horse was on its last legs, and so was I. I didn’t have much armour on most of it seemed to have been melted off. A shadow covered the sun and an alien screech filled the air before I felt a hot blast of air on my back. The horse stumbled and I was thrown clear. I rolled to my feet in time to see the horse being consumed by fire so hot, the bones melted. The shadow came again the screech filled the air followed by the fire which consumed me. My face melted off my skull before I could scream. The pain, the heat, and the anger I felt!
Then I woke, not with a start, but, gently, like when my mother use to wake me for school as a child. Something big was going to happen. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. Not now, but soonish was the best I could describe. I left my tent and saw that dawn was just about to break. The camp was stirring, fires being relit for breakfast, men finishing their morning ablutions by the latrine pits. The sentries began to wake those who were still sleeping. Something important, dangerous was heading our way. I knew it.
I made my way over to Max’s tent, and was greeted by Ivan and Bruce. Both seemed to have worried looks on their faces. Deez and Titanius met us at Max’s tent and from behind his tent walked Li, also looking worried.
“I guess that we all had some weird dream last night?” I asked those gathered around me. A mumble of yeses confirmed that.
“And we are all having a strange feeling right now of something big happening, or will be happening soon.” Again a mumble and a nod from them.
“Okay, go around to the men and ask them who feels the same. Bring them back to my tent and see what is happening.”
They all dispersed quickly and made their way among my men, speaking in low tones about what they were feeling. Soon we were all gathered again back at my tent. Everybody from Earth had a similar dream, together with Thackeray, Tachojay, the two orcs Mycotaur and Kimba, Fremod and, surprisingly, Mia.
“The only conclusion I can come up with is that something or somebody is sending us a message,” Fremod said.
“Most likely, and if my gut instinct is right, it’s that damn old man,” I replied to general mumbles and nods from us Earthlings.
Mia looked at us strangely before I told her quickly about us, and the mysterious old man who had met with us all before we were transported here. She looked shocked, and slightly pale at that.
“I think I may have met him too. During my studies at The Capitol, a small, bald old man bumped into me while I was at a market the one day. He looked me right in the eyes and told me my time was near. My destiny was close at hand and I should embrace it. I laughed at him and walked away, but a nagging feeling hung over me from that day on. But now it all makes sense. Somehow, we are all locked together by this old man. Our destinies en
twined for whatever reason only he knows.” She looked almost afraid at that realisation.
“A question we should ask is who else is part of this destiny? And, more importantly, who or what are we going to face?” I asked the group.
“I can answer part of that.” A voice sounded just outside of my tent.
Max opened the tent flaps, and in walked Bruniks, the elven second in command.
“I too had this strange dream last night. However, at the end a voice spoke to me. At first I thought that I imagined it, but it was so clear, so compelling, I could not ignore it any longer. So here I am. Apparently I must join your band,” he said to our stunned looks.
“But I also carry a message from my dream. We are to seek the help of the dwarves, both the dwarves in your current company but also those from Dwarfinaan. There we will find more help, as well as an instruction of whom else to contact.” A frenzy of talking erupted at this news.
“All right, settle down.” I waved my arms at everybody to calm them.
“We have a new member here first of all. Welcome Bruniks, to the Ghosts.”
Bruniks nodded his thanks.
“Secondly, we have a new mission at hand, and that is to make our way to Dwarfinaan. First, we have to finish the current mission with the prince. If all goes to plan, Prince Marcus will rout Prince Owyne’s army today. Until then, we follow Prince Marcus and after the battles are won, we head back to the HQ to make ready for the next mission. Any questions?” I asked as I looked around.
“None? Great, let’s make ourselves ready for war, boys. Get the men ready and let’s crack some skulls!”
The assembled group left with spirits a bit higher, spreading the morale among the rest of the Ghost Company as they readied for the last fight.
“Well, Bob. It seems we are destined to fight side by side after all.” I spun around at that voice, dagger out in an instant.
“Good morning Babar. Trust you slept well?” I asked the freed orc.
“It was adequate, thanks.” He shrugged.
“Don’t worry. The guards will be fine when they wake up later. I tried not to hurt them too much,” he said.
Bruniks slowly circled around the huge orc, while I maintained my fighting stance in front of him.
“I did not come here to exact my revenge, human. I was told in a dream to pay my respects to you. You, it seems, the spirits of the orcs have chosen to lead us against something terrible. What that is I do not know. All I know is I must join you. After the war games, naturally,” he said with a small smile.
“So for now, are you still our captive? Or do you plan on escaping?” I asked, relaxing a bit.
“I am in your debt, human. I am yours to lead. Tie me up if it makes you feel safer, although simple rope will not keep me bonded forever.”
“Fair enough. For now I feel much better with you tied up.” I signalled for Bruniks to tie Babar’s hands together. Babar, to his credit did not fight, but held his hands out and accepted the bonds.
“Please let it be made known, though,” Babar said once tied. “I could have killed you and the elf bare handed if I wanted to.”
“Maybe,” I said, smiling. “Tell you what, we will definitely have that wrestling match and see.”
Babar smiled at that and sat in front of my tent while we readied ourselves for the day.
We stood at attention, surrounding the prince and his commanders, as his forces prepared to march onto the battlefield. We were a small force compared to those before us, numbering only eighteen men fit to fight, or in this case, be the prince’s bodyguards. Those in front of us consisted of orcs, massed in the middle facing the enemy orcs, humans to the left and right of the orcs, and elven archers spread out behind them all. A body of cavalry stood in reserve, more or less equal in size to the enemy cavalry. The enemy army stood across from us, looking rather dejected without their upper leadership. But stoically, they stood their ground as Prince Marcus issued the command to attack.
A deep blast was heard from a horn, and with that the army began to move forward towards the enemy lines. My company was dressed in their full, heavy combat gear, looking very similar to the Roman legions of old. Each of us was armed with a nine foot long spear held upright, looking like a deadly forest of steal, our long, slightly cylindrical, rectangular shields resting upright against us, and double-edged swords, designed for stabbing, in their scabbards. I stood just behind the prince, keeping an eye on the developing battle and the enemy lines. The two forces had engaged each other by now, each side probing but not committing too many to the fight just yet.
The archers on both sides were picking off each other, and any other prime targets they could find. A runner approached Jeroch with a message which he read before passing it to Prince Marcus.
“Send our cavalry to block them and to secure that flank,” he ordered Jeroch, who issued the command to the runner.
Soon the cavalry was thundering away to intercept the enemy cavalry who was trying to outflank us on the left. A think cloud of dust was rising as the day wore on. Both sides were relatively evenly matched and a stalemate seemed to be developing. I could see that our right flank seemed to be taking more casualties than the others, and seem to be wavering slightly.
“Sir, permission to shore up the right flank?” I asked Prince Marcus.
He looked at the situation there and nodded his approval. Immediately I began shouting out orders, which were carried out swiftly.
“Company! Form up! Tight square five men wide! Spears high!”
The men closed ranks into a tighter square, shields interlocking and the spears held vertical. The front rows consisted of Fremod in the middle, flanked by Kimba and his orcs, with Mycotaur behind them with his orcs. I was just behind the next row that was led by Max, and behind me were the rest of the humans, elves and finally the dwarves right at the back armed with their wicked Lochaber axes acting as an anti-flanking force. Small as we were as a fighting force, we had drilled these manoeuvres over and over.
“Quick march double time!”
Fremod led us towards the fighting lines at a brisk jog, before swinging right slightly. The elven archers opened up a space for us to jog through, before following us to add their support. We drew closer to the enemy lines and swung wider to avoid the main skirmish. The archers with us fired at the enemy archers to give us some breathing room.
“Company halt! Left turn! Lower spears and advance!”
A parade-perfect left turn was carried out, with the first two rows lowering the spear tips to chest height. The rest of the rows held the spears at an angle to be thrown over the front rows. The towering figure of Fremod, dressed in full heavy armour, advancing spear in hand next to a wall of heavily armoured orcs must have been a sight to behold.
At first, we were not noticed as we slow marched closer. The enemy infantry was busy flanking our units. Only when the screams of their dying comrades started filling the air, did they realise they were being assaulted on their flanks. We advanced methodically, the front rows stabbing nonstop into the enemy soldiers, opening a big gap between them, and us relieving the pressure on our allies.
“Raise spears and advance!”
Almost in unison, the spears rose again, shields locked, and we advanced towards the enemy, walking over the dead and dying bodies before they vanished. The enemy charged at us head on, but still we moved forward as they hacked at our shields, trying in vain to reach us.
“Push! Push! Push!” We shouted encouragement to each other as we forcibly pushed them back into each other, tangling them up among themselves.
“Back rows, ready spears! Company halt and duck!”
At the last command, the front rows ducked under their shields as we threw our spears at the compressed enemy before us.
The spears killed scores, some tips piercing multiple men at a time.
“Lower spears and advance!”
This time the front rows advanced with the spears lowered, killing the enemy as w
e marched forward, forcing the enemy back with every deadly step we took. Our allies we had saved rallied at our push, joining us by charging at the enemy archers who were peppering us nonstop. Together with our own elven archers, they broke the ranks of the enemy archers and drove them off the battlefield. By now, the dwarves had broken from behind us and attacked an attempted flank by a few enemy orcs. Together with elves, they held them off, giving us enough time to rout the humans we faced.
“Company halt!”
They halted, forming that square again, facing the now-exposed flanks of the orcs.
“This is it boys! Payback!” I shouted above the roar of the fight in front of us.
“Draw swords! Shallow wedge! Advance!”