The Banner of the Broken Orc: The Call of the Darkness Saga: Book One

by Aiden L Turner

  ‘At the moment nothing. You must continue your training of Jacob. You two will depend on each other in the times that will come to pass. I shall call upon the older and more gifted of our order for a Witton. They are spread far and wide but when we are all gathered around the tree, maybe we can spread some light on the darkness that threatens this world.’

  ‘You have the strongest perception of all of us father, do you really think we face such dark times?’ Robert asked, worry in his tone.

  ‘I fear we shall face the darkest of times, my young friend, and when I say we I mean all who live on this world. For the darkness I speak of belongs to no race that is natural to this world. It waits in the north growing in power till it becomes ready to take by force that which it considers its own. Everything Robert, it comes to take everything. And before it reveals itself, there will be conflict unmatched since the forming of the kingdom and the separation of the races. The power you felt awakened in Jacob may be the universe’s balance to this darkness. Jacob may be the light that allows us hope of survival, or he may not. Only time will tell, but I know this – and you should heed my words if you are but a half of how wise I believe you to be – Jacob will need to do dark things in the days to come. He will need to kill, and not all those who must die at his hand will deserve their fate, but he will need the command of the lords and their armies. He must hold their loyalty, their respect, but above all things he must hold their fear.’

  Red Rob’s smile had completely vanished. As he was seeking more information he asked, ‘I too felt a sense of approaching doom, yet nothing compared to the things in which you speak. I assumed that a powerful Orc chieftain had united the tribes and that we would have a full-scale invasion, as we have had before. I also assumed that Jacob would be the one to lead our armies against such a force.’

  ‘Well, you assume much and, as with most assumptions you are wrong Robert. This threat, this enemy we shall face in the days ahead, comes not just against Man but against Orc and Goblin, and any other form of life for it seeks complete dominance.’ Ederwine looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. ‘I have contemplated much since the coming of the red comet and researched much as to what this foretells, and although there is little in any of the texts we have, yet there is one piece of script, barely legible, but it speaks of a creature, ancient when the world was a barren inhospitality place. It tells of the creature’s banishment to a place between worlds but how and by whom is not clear, nevertheless I believe this creature has found release from its banishment.’

  Robert looked stricken, pale and weak as he tried to lighten the mood. ‘But this is assumption, is it not master Ederwine?’

  Ederwine replied, ‘Not so. I feel this in my very fibre to be true. Tell me, young Robert, when you looked upon the sky on that cold and clear night not four months past, and you saw the glowing red ball of fire streaking through the night, what did you feel, in your deepest sense?’

  ‘In truth Ederwine, I felt despair, utter despair. If it were not for the concerns I had with Jacob I would have made my way here immediately to seek your council.’

  ‘Things move at a slow pace, and it may be that we, as an order, have a small or large part to play, yet your part is clear to me, you must stay with your charge. Prepare Jacob, train his mind as the king’s lapdog Malick trains his sword arm. Make strong his resolve, for he will surely need it. I shall take council with the Elders of our brethren and contact you as needed. Now come and sit with an old and lonely man and tell him of castle life.’

  Robert and Ederwine sat beside the tree of contemplation and both looked upon the midday sky. The sun seemed to shine a little less today. As Red Rob looked upwards, he saw in his mind’s eye the night sky Ederwine had asked him of, and a red comet with a glowing tail made its way through the universe at speeds unimaginable to those who bore witness. As Robert told of the day-to-day trials of castle life an icy wind blew from the north, soft yet full of menace. Both men felt a sense of dread as they pulled their cloaks about them and mouthed a prayer of protection.

  Chapter Eight

  Hope

  ‘Cameos.’ The voice called to him whilst he slept. ‘Cameos, why do you seek to ignore me? Dost thou doubt my word? The word of your creator.’ Cameos looked pained as he stood before a vision of pure beauty, a dominating figure of a woman. Luminescence gave her an aura of pure goodness, yet beneath the striking beauty rested a power as clear as it was unmatched.

  ‘I am torn between tradition and desire, Goddess’, Cameos replied shamefully. ‘My heart tells me I must be ruthless in controlling the people I lead, that I must show them without question that my word is law, yet is it weakness on my part to rule through power and fear from my kind rather than the love they feel towards me?’

  ‘You have at your disposal information far beyond that which you possess, yet you fear the Elder and choose not to take that which is my gift to you. Understanding.’

  Cameos stood slightly more erect as he asked, ‘What must be done, Mother?’

  ‘Your race is dying, Cameos’, the Goddess of the Elven people stated. ‘But there is hope yet. There are lands far beyond your borders, lands which you could take for the people who look to you. What say you, chief? Will you fight to keep that which was gifted?’

  ‘I shall do whatever it takes, how do I proceed? I beg you to tell me plainly. Place my feet upon the path and I shall walk it without complaint.’

  The voice of the Goddess came soothingly as she said, ‘You will make a new path, away from the old and into the new. I shall show you the way, but it is you who must lead my people along this path. First you must gain knowledge. The Elder hide from you the truth. Take the truth from them. Destroy any who resist, for they are surely the enemy.’

  Cameos awoke with a start. His bedding was wet from sweat and his breath ragged and short as if he had been taking part in laborious activity. Releaka stroked his hair from his face and asked. ‘Are you ready to tell me what plagues your sleep, my love? It pains me deeply to see you suffer and more so that you will not share these troubles with me.’

  ‘My silence on the matter was not to cause you injury my love. I sought only to keep from you the troubles until a time I had some solution. The Mother comes to me in my sleep, far from dreams, I know as fact it is her true voice that speaks to me. She tells of an approaching doom, one we all sense, but she gives it credence and certainty. She also gives hope that there is a path I can lead our people on that will not only save them from this doom but will also allow us to thrive in a way we have never before. But to do this I must break with tradition; I must destroy those who would oppose me. Some would call me tyrant for the actions I must take but take them I must.’

  Releaka sat silent and motionless for a time, and Cameos remained patient whilst she absorbed the disturbing words until she finally said, ‘We have all seen the decline of the pool of life, the dimming of our race. Many fear the future and there is less happiness in the hearts of our people, yet I am not one who fears the future. I am one of the many who have faith, Cameos. Faith in the Mother and the strength of our kind, and above all, faith in my chieftain. I shall stand alongside you no matter the journey you will lead us on, or the price our people have to pay, for does not the Mother tell us in the holy scriptures, ‘pain is the price of growth’. I shall give all to see our child grow in prosperity. What must be done?’

  Cameos features took on a determined look as he said, ‘I must take the knowledge the Elders keep. My father once told me that the Elder keep many secrets from all, even the chieftain, yet no more can this be. We must leave this place, our home, our world. Many will object, and the Elder will be the first amongst them, of this I am sure. They will give me access to the texts of our people, or I shall take them by force. Mother told of a land, rich with promise, and I would know all and anything about this place, but the Elder guard their secrets well and there are many skilled warriors who would stand before them, even in opposition to their chiefta
in. I fear something terrible, something of my own making, I fear civil war.’

  Releaka looked aggrieved to hear the words as they came yet knew her mate would not talk of these things if not for the need to do so. ‘There are those of position and influence who would stand with you, my love, even against the Elder. We can all see the change coming to us, my love, and if we are to survive and grow once more it will be through your leadership, of this I am certain. But I counsel restraint. Do not be so eager to bring conflict to bear. Gather your support. If there is to be an exodus, the people need time to come to terms with such a change. Rally your closest allies and show the people your strength, and in turn they will follow your lead, to whichever end.’

  ‘To whichever end’, Cameos replied softly.

  Chapter Nine

  King of the Orc

  He stared into the fire and saw beyond the flames. He was surrounded by his brethren, yet none bore witness to the visions that danced within the fire. Talek’ken, saw himself in the flames. He saw his seven-foot-tall, muscular body draped in a cloak made from the faces of his slain enemy, Man. He coveted the reflection of himself, for atop his head sat a crown of stunning wealth and power. A crown that united all the tribes of the Orc and the lesser race of the Goblin beneath its wearer. Talek’ken, chieftain of the Long Fang clan, sat in silent wonder as the flames spoke to him. The words rang through the clearing, clear and strong. All but the chief bowed their heads to the ground in supplication, prostrating themselves before the words of their God.

  ‘I have chosen you Talek’ken, for I have sought out the strongest amongst you to wear the crown of the ancient kings of the Orc. Those glorious warriors who defended the way of the Orc, long before Man pushed you back to these dark and damp lands. Long have I waited for the coming of one to raise the banners of war.’

  The chief stood to his full height and swung his foot-long tusks from side to side as he roared his consent. His voice, carried by an unknown power, reached far beyond the borders of the Long Fang clan. For miles upon miles it travelled, through all the lands and territories of the Orc. A summoning. Soon all would come to swear their fealty to the king, the first king in a millennium and crowned for a single purpose: to purge the world of those not of Orc. His flesh, a green so dark it appeared black, now took on a red tinge as newfound powers manifested themselves deep within. From outside the clearing, from deep within the jungles, tiny, almost unperceivable specks of gold appeared. At first, they came in ones and twos but within moments thousands appeared flying at incredible speeds as they raced towards Talek’ken, slowing and resting upon his head as they joined, forming a shadow of a shape. More and more came until the crown, only moments before he had glimpsed in the flames, now sat perfectly around his skull. His height increased until he now stood close to eight feet. His already bulging muscles grew and the flesh beneath the skin moved as if it contained serpents, wriggling, as he took on this metamorphosis.

  The manifestation of new power continued throughout the night and into the day, as more of his kin came to witness, as those closest to the call of summoning hearkened to the call. All who saw were instantly turned in to servants. chiefs came and bowed to their new lord and master. At the sight before them all feelings of power and aggrandisement vanished, leaving only a deep sense of obedience. The metamorphosis continued into the following night and Talek’ken remained in a trance-like state throughout.

  As more and more clan leaders made the journey to the summoning, the lesser creatures were forced to abandon their vantage point and more than one of the lower echelons of the Orc race were removed with violence. By morning, the clearing was filled with the one hundred and twelve leaders of all the clans of the Orc. Shoulder to shoulder they stood; all disputes ignored but not forgiven. Clans that had warred for all time now allowed their enemy to be in their presence but could not forgive the wrongs done against them.

  Talek’ken’s body shuddered as a voice came to him, and him alone. ‘I have given you but a taste of the gifts you will receive but fail in the task I have given you and I shall reward you with pain, shame and dishonour. Tell me now, whom do you serve?’ The newly crowned ruler of the Orc awoke from his trace with a start and roared to the new day’s sun. ‘I serve Vor’rok, Lord of Darkness. And all before me now serve me.’

  The chorus went up as the assembled clan leaders roared their assent. Ornamental bones were rattled, weapons were drawn and for the first time since the Orcs were driven from the lush lands to the south, they were united under one leader. Driven from their farms, their society broken and scattered, they were forced to return to their barbarous beginnings. They had once been much like the men they had once lived beside. They had laughed and loved. Fought to protect their own whilst dreaming of a time of peace. They had built and grown. Educated and grown. And then betrayed were the Orc. Forced from the lush lands and driven into the jungles where the darkness had taken them fully and warped them into creatures of violence with a lust for pain, sorrow and death.

  Talek’ken drew the sword that hung from a sheath strapped to his back, a monstrous thing, black as the darkest night, curved like a scimitar yet serrated with inch long teeth. As he pointed the blade towards his new vassals, the sword took on a red tinge that matched the now ever-present red hew his flesh had taken on. He addressed them with utmost authority, his voice a growl, calm yet foreboding. ‘We have much work to do, you and I. No more shall we make war upon our own kind, as we fight for scraps left to us by this kingdom of Man. No more shall we fight alone in our clans. We shall take the lands, so long denied us, we shall hold them and expand our domain until all under the sun and stars remain Orc.

  ‘REMAIN ORC!’ Talek’ken screamed at all those who witnessed the rebirth of their race. ‘REMAIN ORC, REMAIN ORC!’ He chanted as his brethren took up the call, and outwardly the call spread, until the more common Orc outside of the clearing joined the chant, then further out still until all members of the race, many thousands were roaring the words with venomous passion.

  Talek’ken, newly crowned King of the Orc, silenced them with a raised hand. ‘We shall see many new passings of the moon till we are ready to take back that which was ours. No longer shall we take the humans to feast upon or torment for sport, but knowledge we’ll take from them. Summon all the creatures of the dark who would serve, train your young, for we shall have open war against the kingdom of Man.’

  Chapter Ten

  Slave

  The king rode with all the pomp and grandeur one would expect of a vain and power-mad ruler of a nation. A team of six jet-black horses strutted with an incredible discipline, with each hoof striking the ground at the exact same moment as they pulled the king’s gold and ivory carriage. Trumpets sounded from the barbican as the king and his personal honour guard came into view of castle Cadaay, home to the house of Godwin. The castle paled in comparison compared with the royal household, yet still stood as one of the grandest in the kingdom. Thirty-metre-high outer walls stood testament to the days where war was often seen, yet now the walls held no engines of war and very few guards, with the frontier of the realm being a hundred miles away.

  Each of the fifty soldiers of the king’s guard rode with the same fanatical discipline. Unlike the brotherhood’s men-at-arms these men were not trained for large-scale warfare but as personal bodyguards, enforcers and sometime assassins. To a man they were fanatical about their duty, as were the brotherhood’s men-at-arms, but unlike the brother’s duty to protect the realm of Man, the king’s personal guard had only a sense of duty for the king, regardless of his actions.

  In a double column they rode through the castle gates, dipping their twelve-foot-high lances as they passed through the archway, the royal sky-blue flags lifted slightly in the breeze showing the same sigil, the simple, intertwined golden circles, that each of the guard wore upon the same sky-blue tabards.

  The guards came to a stop in the courtyard and were met by a surprised and slightly worried-looking man. Lord Godw
in bowed, quickly followed by all those within the castle, as the honour guard arrayed themselves before the king’s carriage door, lances brought together to make a corridor for the king to walk through.

  The king strode through the guard looking stronger, younger and more regal than Lord Godwin had seen him in twenty years. The king came to stand before the lord who still on his knees took the proffered hand and kissed the sigil ring of the King of Man as he said. ‘My Lord King, honour do you bestow on my humble home.’

  The king looked down upon one of his most powerful and gripped him by the shoulder, as he said, ‘Arise. Arise my Lord Godwin. Let me look upon you.’ The king stared thoughtfully into the lord’s eyes, searchingly, as if seeing something beyond. After an awkwardly long moment, the king said enthusiastically, ‘Yes! Yes, my Lord Godwin, you are my faithful servant still. We have work to do, you and I.’

  Goodwin bowed his head and stated, ‘Your will, sire.’

  The king led him away as servants and groomsmen ran to meet the needs of the king’s retinue. They made their way through the courtyard as the castle’s populace continued showing their absolute submission.

  ‘Would Your Highness care to take a moment’s rest? We were not expecting this honour, but my quarters are being made ready as we speak.’

  The king halted abruptly and looked at the lord as if he had said something incredulous. Eyes narrowed, he regarded the weary man whose life was his to command and stated harshly, ‘You think I am need in rest, Godwin? I am the Lord of Lords’ representative on this world.’ His voice raising with excitement as he gripped Godwin by both shoulders. Smiling emphatically, he announced, ‘He who is Greatest of them all has come to me, has spoken with me, and now he is truly within me. As I speak to you now, know that his words are used through my vessel. Do you see, my lord? Tell me true, under oath, do you see our Lord in me?’