Reborn: Book 2 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  The messenger bowed low before backing out of the emperor’s chambers.

  Standlerd-Sinb III stood a few moments looking into the fireplace, deep in thought as to what was happening halfway across the world, and what were they getting themselves into?

  “Your imperial worship. The two armies have begun their manoeuvres. Both seem equally matched at the moment,” the terrified messenger said a few days later, giving a sweating Standlerd-Sinb III the report.

  “Very interesting, don’t you say Etawar?” The emperor asked his personal trainer.

  “That it is, sire,” both cyclops were standing bare-chested, sweating after a rigorous training session.

  Standlerd-Sinb III stood a while, muscles rippling under the afternoon sunlight as he pondered the news. What strange and fascinating creatures these humans were.

  “Convey the following. Orders remain as is. Let us see what developments happen when the two armies meet. Tell Admiral Viskot to delay his arrival to Curixeus by a few days. At least, until we know what the outcome will be of the battle,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III issued to the messenger.

  “Your will, my liege,” the messenger said, bowing low as he left the emperor and the trainer.

  “Shall we continue? I feel a second wind building,” the emperor asked.

  “Your will is always done, sire,” he replied, bowing.

  “Yes, it is,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said, taking up his arms once again.

  ***

  “I do not understand it, your imperial holiness. First, they fight each other, and now they are having a celebration together! These humans are very confusing,” a perplexed Death-on-Wings said.

  “So it seems. What of our fleets? How will this affect us?” Standlerd-Sinb III asked his faery advisor through the use of an undead sorcerer.

  “The fleets of the armies from the north have departed from the town of, Port Eire, and may intercept our fleets. I have ordered them to turn back to ensure that they will not be spotted until we are confident that the fleet has passed. Once it has, the fleets will once again make for their destinations,” the faery reported.

  “Excellent. And I trust that no dragons were spotted?”

  “Perhaps a mere shadow or two, but those would be the size of a bird as the dragons were flying higher than they usually do, sire.”

  “It pleases me to see that my commanders are competent. Keep me informed at all times as to these developments.”

  The faery bowed low in thanks before the undead sorcerer ended the viewing spell and left the emperor alone in his study.

  “So, my dear brother, it seems that these humans and their allies are more complicated than we thought,” Standlerd-Sinb III said, speaking to the shadows in his study.

  Stepping out of those shadows, Staed looked deep in thought.

  “It is a great pity that Admiral Viskot did not stay behind to question him. He may be able to shed some light on what has occurred now. We need to approach these humans very delicately. If we make any blunders with the first contacts, we may just rue that day.”

  “Wise words, brother. It is such a pity that you are unable to make that first meet. I will just have to make do with Death-on-Wings,” Standlerd-Sinb III replied. “I am putting great trust in you to keep a very close eye on this, Staed. I am getting a very uneasy feeling about this.”

  “As with me, but I take it there are no possible means of cancelling this endeavour?” Staed asked, concerned.

  “Without losing face to those bootlicking hypocrites which surround me in my courts? That would add the fuel needed to start the rebellion that the faeries are planning.”

  “So it is true then?”

  “Yes, my spies have confirmed your words to me. For now, I will let it lay as we hunt the leaders of this new rebellion.”

  “So, we have no choice then but to wait?”

  “Yes brother, we wait. For better or worse, we wait,” Standlerd-Sinb III stated with gravity.

  ***

  It was a tense few days for the cyclops fleet as they waited for the returning fleets of Prince Owyne to pass them unnoticed. But their luck held out and none of the cyclops ships were spotted.

  The all clear was sounded and once again, the ponderously large ships made their way towards Curixeus. Half the fleet began to split off, heading north towards the Straights of Westdom well behind the prince’s fleet, while the other half would head straight for Mountdom Port.

  An enormous white flag was hoisted on all the ships to show their peaceful intentions as they approached the harbour mouth of Mountdom Port where they weighed anchor and waited for the princess’s warships to close in as they came closer to inspect the strange vessels that had anchored offshore.

  Admiral Viskot stood visibly on the forecastle of the flagship, the Standlerd-Sinb III, waiting for the distance to close between it and the lead ship.

  “Ahoy! Identify yourselves!” The captain of the lead ship shouted across the gap

  “Ahoy! I am Admiral Viskot! I represent the Cyclops Empire who wishes to meet peacefully with Princess Wendyaline!” The admiral shouted in reply.

  The captain turned to his first mate, laughing at Admiral Viskot while the first mate stared wide eyed and in terror back over the captain’s shoulder. Turning slowly, the captain looked up to see what the first mate was staring at. In fright, he stepped back and stumbled over his own feet, falling flat on his buttocks. Looking down at him was the cyclops crew of the Standlerd-Sinb III.

  “Do not be alarmed. We come in peace. We wish to trade with your kingdom,” a slick smiling Death-on-Wings spoke in an accent to the captain in a very soothing tone.

  “Will you allow us safe passage into the harbour?” Admiral Viskot asked.

  “Ye, yes sir,” stammered the captain.

  He immediately turned to his crew and started shouting orders at them to rig the sails. He sent a series of flag signals to a second ship which was further away from them, who immediately turned to sail back into the harbour. Moments later, the captain was leading the cyclops ships towards the port, and the first encounters between the human kingdoms and Cyclops Empire.

  ***

  “Your Holiness. Messages have arrived from Death-on-Wings. Contact has been made with the Western Kingdom,” a messenger said, handing the huge cyclops emperor a sealed scroll.

  Dismissing him, Standlerd-Sinb III opened the message and briefly scanned the contents.

  “I pray to our ancestors that we have not made a grave error in judgement with these humans,” he said out aloud.

  “Time will tell brother. The question you should ask, was it a grave error in judgement to have sent that faery instead of somebody whom you trust?” Stead replied.

  “On that question, time will indeed tell my brother.”

  ***

  Pikemen dressed in long, knee length chainmail, lined the wharf where the cyclops ships were about to dock. The double row of soldiers faced both in and outwards, twelve-foot long pike at the ready.

  Princess Wendyaline stood behind a protective wall of heavy scaled armoured bodyguards. Archers were arrayed on the rooftops, crossbows cocked and ready. Admiral Viskot looked over the railing at the massing citizens of Mountdom Port, smiling inwardly at the expected shock that will follow as soon as the cyclopses make their first appearance.

  Both the cyclops and faeries were keeping their heads down so as not to alarm the visibly nervous soldiers who had lined up along the wharf. Only the few humans aboard were visible as they swung about on the ships rigging, reeling in the sails as the ship bumped to a gentle halt against the wooden supports on the water’s edge.

  A gangplank was run out which clanked loudly onto the stone wharf as a nervous, sweating harbour master approached the bottom of it. Admiral Viskot descended the gangway and handed a sealed scroll over to the shaking man who had just seen a glimpse of a cyclops.

  “Greetings Harbour Master. Would you be so kind as to convey this to her Royal Highness on behalf of
the Cyclops Emperor, His Esteemed Imminence, Standlerd-Sinb III,” the admiral said in a magically enhanced voice so that all gathered at the wharf front could hear him.

  A startled murmur ran through the crowd like a wildfire being pushed before a gale force wind. The harbour master stumbled quickly to where Princess Wendyaline stood and handed over the scroll.

  Gingerly, Princess Wendyaline broke the wax seal and unrolled the scroll. She read it slowly without showing any emotions, but underneath her calm composure, she was rattled. Her heart was racing with both fear and excitement at what was written on the scroll. Admiral Viskot waited patiently as Princess Wendyaline calmly rolled up the scroll and took a step forward.

  “Let it be known far and wide, that I, Princess Wendyaline, fair ruler of Westdom, welcome thee Admiral Viskot and our new guests, the cyclops and faery ambassadors from M’Mexarow.”

  The noise from the crowd turned into a roar as everybody spoke at once about this proclamation. The pikemen strained to hold the shifting crowd at bay as everybody jockeyed for position to get a better look at these new foreigners. A second, larger gangplank was pushed out by a pair of burly cyclops, and no sooner had it touched the wharf and Death-on-Wings began to descend followed by Efficame, the newly appointed ambassador to Princess Wendyaline.

  A troop of scale-mailed cyclops marched down with them, followed by a pair of werewolves and a squad of faery sorcerers. The front of the jostling crowd saw the new arrivals and began to scream in fear at the huge cyclops and terrifying werewolves who were standing on their hind legs sniffing the air.

  The panicked crowd pushed and jostled each other in their flight to escape, the pikemen leaving them to run while they nervously stood their ground, pikes lowered. Death-on-Wings confidently walked forward toward Princess Wendyaline, closely followed by an equally confident Admiral Viskot and Efficame. Stopping before the raised platform where the princess stood, Death-on-Wings bowed low, almost touching his forehead on the ground.

  “Greetings Princess Wendyaline from Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III the undisputed ruler of all cyclops, faery, gnome, dragon, werewolf and undead peoples. We have come in peace with the hope of establishing robust diplomatic ties and trade agreements between our two great and proud nations. I am Death-on-Wings, the faery Council Chairman, Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III confidant and leader of this expedition. May I introduce Admiral Viskot, formally of Curixeus and now High Admiral of the cyclops fleets, and Councilman Efficame, soon to be the diplomat to your Kingdom,” Death-on-Wings formally greeted the Princess.

  Full of fear and apprehension but not wanting to show it to these unknown visitors, Princess Wendyaline looked left and right at her advisors and bodyguards, before running her hands down her silk dress to smooth an imaginary crease. Clearing her throat before she stepped forward and spoke, she looked over the newcomers.

  “Welcome, uh, Death-on-Wings, Admiral and Diplomat Efficame, to my realm, Westdom. It is always pleasing to make new alliances and to open new trading opportunities. We, the people of Westdom welcome you one and all with open arms,” a small cheer and a smattering of applauses rang out from those who did not flee or who returned from running away.

  “Let us retire to my palace where we can sit in comfort and discuss our new opportunities,” Princess Wendyaline offered while holding out her arm for the faery to take.

  She led them to her coach, which once all were aboard, led the way back to her palace just outside of Mountdom Port.

  ***

  While the delegation to Westdom was made to feel comfortable and welcome by Princess Wendyaline, the second fleet slowly approached the Straights of Westdom, a naturally made channel through the Western Mountains which joined the Bohrium Ocean to False Bay.

  Thousands of years ago, a meteor, crashed down through the atmosphere and landed near the M’Mexarow Isles. The resulting forces from this catastrophe cause widespread earthquakes, tsunamis and untold devastation.

  A series of these quakes happened along a fault line in the Western Mountain, tearing the mountains apart as the tectonic plates moved away from each other. The flooding ocean quickly filled the resulting gap between the Western Mountain and the new, Northern Mountain Range.

  Once the tumultuous seas had calmed, a passage had formed, joining the Bohrium Ocean to the False Bay, and new avenues for ships to trade in the years to come. It was through this straight that the second cyclops fleet was heading.

  The winds had favoured them for most of the journey, but as the fleet drew closer to the straight, the winds had died down, forcing the now travel weary sailors to man the oars. Slowly, under backbreaking rowing, the fleet sailed into the straights. The Straights of Westdom were wide enough for two ships to sail side by side.

  Admiral Viskot had drawn detailed maps for the entire fleet which the captain of the second fleet was using. Huge, towering cliffs were on either side of the straights, with massive boulders lining the water’s edge as the years of erosion had worked away at the base of the cliff.

  Trade over land was almost impossible for many hundreds of years until a dwarven king took it upon himself to build a bridge spanning the length of the straights. Named the Great Divide Bridge, the dwarves with the help of stone shaman fashioned the bridge from a single rock, seemingly enticing the rock to grow across the gap-shaped like a road.

  The dwarf king, Shale Chipstone, then charged a toll for all those who wished to use the bridge. As time went on, the bridge itself was fought over as a source of income, with it eventually falling into the hands of the humans, and now Princess Wendyaline who charged astronomical amounts for traders and people to use it. The result was a wayside town to be built, unimaginatively called Toll for those travellers wealthy enough to cross the Great Divide Bridge.

  The fleet sailed under the majestic bridge which stood almost one hundred metres above them. Looking in awe, the sailors crowded the masts and sides of the ships to look at this marvel.

  It was almost a day later when the ships spilt out of the Straights of Westdom into the False Bay. This large bay stretched further than the eye could see before them, the rolling waves pushing them further out from the mouth of the straights. Once the captain of the lead ship gained his bearing, he issued the command to raise the sails.

  Soon the other four ships followed suit and not long before, all five were sailing east towards the island city, The Capitol, the symbolic capital for Curixeus. Nightfall came and went and with the following dawn came a thick blanket of fog which was common for this time of year. The ships tried to stay as close as possible, but the fog thickened and soon visual contact was lost.

  Though they could hear each other, it was almost impossible to pinpoint exactly where they were in relation to each other as the noise in the fog played tricks with them. By midday the fog had lifted, and the five ships found that they had drifted far from each other, spread out over a wide area.

  The ships on the extreme edge began to tack their sails, trying to close the gap between them and the lead ship, while the last ship out of the Straights of Westdom had lagged far behind making it a distant speck on the horizon.

  Dusk began to settle once more, and the ships were closer to each other, but still too far away for the comfort of their captains. Midnight brought about a flurry of activity as the look out on the crow’s nest spotted the running lights of a small fleet of ships dead ahead. Not knowing what to do, the captain ordered the ships to make for the fleet, hoping that it may be the king’s fleet and that they would be welcomed.

  The fleet was indeed the king’s fleet. They had been shadowing the returning fleet of Prince Owyne as they sailed back up the Darkness River. Seeing the running lights of the ships behind them, the admiral in charge of the warships ordered an about turn, fearing that some Orc Dreadnoughts were behind him.

  He raised the battle stations flags, and soon all the ships in the fleet were readying themselves, just in case it was an orc raid, as had happened every now and then. The admiral did no
t recognise the style of ships heading towards him. And the fact that they were spread out confused him. He immediately thought then that they were pirates and ordered his fleet to attack.

  The cyclops fleet spread out as they were, were completely unprepared for any naval conflict. As the two fleets approached each other, the king’s fleet fired deck mounted ballistae at the cyclops ships, scoring direct hits against the hulls on the water lines. Grappling hooks were readied and the marine contingent on the king’s ships waited to board the cyclops ships.

  The lead ships just about rammed each other, the cyclops ship slowed to an almost dead stop because of the hole in its bow, was listing to port, while two others tried to turn around to flee. The marines quickly boarded the cyclops ships, only to find to their horror, the giant cyclops waiting for them. The shocked marines jumped straight off the ships in terror with the captain of the king’s ships calling for a withdrawal.

  Lines were hacked through hastily and the ships were pushed apart by pole arms. The ballistae were fired into the cyclops ships at point blank range, scuttling the ships. A few cyclops’ leapt across the widening gap to escape the churning waters, but they were ruthlessly cut down.