Reborn: Book 2 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  “And who is this small woman?” He asked of the princess who only stood as high as his belt.

  “Your Worship, this is Princess Wendyaline, the ruler of this realm,” Efficame said.

  “Ah, greetings princess,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said bowing to Princess Wendyaline.

  “You! You have a lot to answer to!” The princess screeched.

  “I have a lot to answer for? Yes, indeed I do. And I intend doing so. With the blood of the king of this forsake land. He will answer for the deaths of my men whom he so casually butchered. You have a choice to make, woman, either you stand aside and join me, or share the fate of your brother, your head on a pike above the city gates,” the emperor declared.

  Princess Wendyaline became deathly white as her blood drained from her face. She hastily bowed before the emperor and stepped aside for him to pass.

  “Excellent princess, now show me my new palace,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said as he walked past her.

  Princess Wendyaline was left scrambling to keep up with the large strides of the cyclops as they made their way to the royal palace.

  The troop transports continued to unload more and more troops, eventually heading back towards M’Mexarow to load more troops. A dragon corral was constructed on the outskirts of Mountdom Port, together with kennels for the werewolves.

  The days which followed the arrival of the cyclops army was spent consolidating the lands around Mountdom Port. The emperor and his generals poured over maps of Curixeus, planning their invasion, relegating Princess Wendyaline to a puppets role.

  Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III used her position as ruler of Westdom as a front while he moved troops to occupy all the towns and to secure the mountain passes of both the Western and Northern mountain ranges.

  ***

  Tired of being manipulated, and being left out of the decision-making of her realm, she decided to invite the emperor to a quiet dinner alone in her quarters.

  Princess Wendyaline was a skilled operator. She employed all of her tricks to ensnare the emperor. Ideal small talk over strong red wine, low cut, tight fitting dress that left nothing to the imagination, subtle eye contact with the occasional brushing of the hand against his. Laughing at his comments or showing sadness when needed.

  By the end of the intermit dinner, the claws of Princess Wendyaline were sunken deep into the heart of Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III. After that night alone, Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III began to include Princess Wendyaline on his invasion plans.

  At first, she simply nodded and smiled, but slowly she would ask a question or comment about something else. Before long, she began to offer advice as to whom to attack, and when to attack.

  “And why is it so important to attack these, centaurs?” Death-on-Wings asked her after she demanded that the cyclops attack the centaurs of the Western Arid Lands.

  “Because, you simpleton, they are nothing more than brigands and thugs which prey upon the poor innocent citizens of the towns which surround them.”

  “Do not become insulting woman,” Death-on-Wings began to say.

  “Enough Death-on-Wings!” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III shouted.

  “Princess Wendyaline makes a valid point. By us attacking these creatures, we gain favour from the citizens of Westdom. It gives us a greater foothold on Curixeus, one we need in order to attack the cities surrounding False Bay before we can capture The Capitol.”

  “Your wisdom knows no bounds,” Death-on-Wings said bowing low.

  “Yes, that is why I want you to leave on the next ship back to M’Mexarow. I need you to oversee the remaining troop movements. General Etawar shall take your place here,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III declared.

  “Etawar! But your imperial highness!” Death-on-Wings began to protest.

  “Let me explain it simply to you faery. You may be good at organizing functions, and my court duties, but you do not know the first thing about fighting a war. General Etawar is a veteran of the cyclops armies. He fought side by side with my father and taught him all that he knew. Now, be gone and do my bidding,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III dismissed the fuming faery.

  Bowing low as he left, Death-on-Wings shot a look of pure hatred at both Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III and Princess Wendyaline, which was pointedly ignored by both.

  “I am glad that you have dismissed him,” Princess Wendyaline said as she slid closer to Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III, resting her hand lightly on the emperor’s arm.

  Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III breath quickened at the touch, heart beating faster as the soft, gentle touch of the princess worked its magic on him.

  “I did not like his attitude. He seemed to behave above his station,” she concluded, smiling her deadly smile up at the emperor, who towered above her.

  Smiling back like an unblooded youth, Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III simply nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, I feel that too. So, my dear Wendyaline, once we pacify the centaurs, whom else should we pacify?” He asked her.

  “Oh, Stand, I have such problems on all of my borders. I am at wits ends as what to do,” the princess said over emphasizing her dilemma.

  “Well my dear, point out the lands, and I will show you what we will do about that,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said while Princess Wendyaline hung onto his arm, gently stroking his hand with hers.

  I will show you cyclops, oh I will show you, she thought.

  ***

  Within weeks, the combined forces of Princess Wendyaline and their new allies, the cyclops, were poised at the borders of Westdom ready to strike at the perceived enemy of Princess Wendyaline.

  At the predetermined time, the armies of Westdom launched simultaneous attacks on the city of Traders Hope, the Western Arid Lands, and Hahnium Jungles. Troops marched across the Great Divide Bridge to strengthen Lightkeeper to establish a more secure foothold on the northern shores of False Bay.

  Warships sailed through the Straights of Westdom, heading for Traders Hope to secure the shipping lanes for the support of the attacks on the cities on the southern shores of False Bay.

  Traders Pass fell quickly under the assault of the massive cyclops warriors. The defending soldiers were all put to death while the citizens were forced to swear fealty to the Cyclops Empire. Those who refused joined the doomed soldiers.

  The cyclops armies marched on, virtually unopposed as they headed for Bucal. This massive fortified city sat directly opposite The Capitol, separated by the Siren Straights and was the most heavily defended city the cyclops would face.

  The defenses of Bucal held for a few weeks until the undead mages arrived from the Valley of the Dead. The magic employed against the hapless defenders left the city unprotected. All the soldiers were cooked within their armour as the waves of sorcery rolled over the city walls.

  A token force was sent into the city to subdue it while the main force marched on to Kazcad and eventually turning back to attack the city of Tak. Within a few months, all the cities and towns which were under the rule of King Dwayne south of The Capitol were either captured or besieged with the last city of Fearit the last to be attacked.

  Refuges from the invasion began to stream south into Prince Marcus lands, bringing with them tales of horror as the unstoppable cyclops armies took control of the countryside, and turned their gaze south, towards Traders Post.

  ***

  It was the most exhilarating experience I had ever felt. We were whipping across tree tops with the wind screaming in our ears, just about touching the leaves which were reaching out to us. Twisting and jinking, our griffins skillfully dodged amongst the treetops as we made our way to the drop zone.

  It was better than riding shotgun in a heli on the way to a battlefield. I could imagine ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ by Wagner blaring out over speakers as we zoomed over the forest. The use of the griffins was the gift meant for us, turns out that the former king of the dwarves had become unstable and tried to deny us this gift.

  We knew now that it was because he was actually a
rogue ogre. The new king, King Diamond, also had a dream. He was told to help us in any and every way possible. So he loaned us the Griffin Battalion. They were the air wing, so to say, of the dwarves.

  With the ability to lift a man and the dwarven rider over vast distances quickly, it was the perfect gift for us. I knew just how to use them. The only issues we had was the fact that Fremod and the orcs were too heavy to lift with only one griffin.

  So some clever dwarven engineers came up with a brilliant suggestion. Why not build a box big enough for a squad of five or so men, or one large troll to sit in, and have four griffins lift it simultaneously. And so our rapid deployment capabilities were born.

  Think of it as a landing ship. The griffins would carry us as low to the ground as possible and drop us off at a predetermined spot. We would pop open the side doors and stream out to take up positions while the griffins fly off to collect other boxes that would either hold more men or supplies.

  Evacuation from a site would be by the same means. We load the boxes and let the griffins carry them out to safety, or back to base. Lone griffins were carrying the dwarven riders and elven archers or mages, would provide a kind of air support, raining down arrows or spells on whoever threatened us. Death from above!

  Today, we were making our way back to the Elven Forest to meet up with Farpae and the rest of the Ghost Company after being away for so long. By now, they should have completed the training of the new recruits and have established a base deep in the forest with the help of the elves.

  A gap in the thick canopy of trees opened up to our left. Our temporary base camp was found. I tapped on the shoulder of the dwarf in front of me who was controlling the griffin and pointed down to the gap. He gave me a crazy smile and banked the griffin into a steep dive.

  The griffin responded by folding its wings flat against its body, diving down towards the rapidly approaching ground and giving a triumphant screech which was followed by the screeches of the following griffins as they all made the hard left bank towards the gap.

  The wind was whistling loudly in my ears, tears streaming down my cheeks and flying off my face. Suddenly, the griffin extended its wings and flapped wildly as it slowed to a hover inches above the ground, before gently settling down on the soft loam.

  I was laughing wildly, clapping the rider and the beast after the wild ride. The griffin purred under us, enjoying the affection we showed it, while the dwarf laughed madly with me, petting the griffin behind its tufted ears. The rest of the griffins settled around us, with most of us from earth laughing at the enjoyment of the crazy ride.

  The orcs and troll were in a box that came down a little gentler than us, but it still left them queasy. It seemed that they weren’t up to air travel. The dwarves handled it stoically, they did it simple because they could, while the elves and humans took to it like the proverbial duck to water.

  Farpae and the rest of Ghost Company stood waiting to one side of the clearing, behind them the earth walls of our temporary base. Once I had dismounted off the griffin, he walked up to me and gave me a crisp salute which I returned.

  “Welcome back sir,” he greeted me as we shook hands.

  “Good to see you again Farpae, afternoon men!” I greeted my company which stood at attention.

  I returned their salute before they rushed us to welcome us back. Introductions were made between Ward and his sons, the griffin riders and of course, Veggie. All were new members of the company, and tonight would be the formal induction into it, together with the new recruits from HQ.

  “How we looking here?” I asked Farpae as we walked into the camp through a small gateway made from solid looking logs.

  “Well, Bob. The training was great. We passed everybody and gained a few more adventurous mages. The elves have been very accommodating here in the forest, and the cross training has been fruitful, to say the least,” Farpae answered.

  “Good to hear. Set up a debriefing in about an hour. Let’s get ourselves settled first,” I told Farpae, who nodded and left my side to let the sub commanders know.

  I led Mia to my tent, which conveniently had a spare cot and an extra set of chests placed in it for both of our clothes and equipment. We quickly changed into something clean and more comfortable than the thick riding leathers we needed to keep warm while riding the griffins.

  Within the hour, all the sub commanders had all assembled in the command tent. I began by relating our journey through the tunnels, ending with the first flight we had with the griffins and our journey here.

  Farpae filled us in on the training and the new recruits as well as the cross training with the elves. Plans were made for the next few days’ worth of training within the forest, as well as acclimatizing all of Ghost Company to the griffin rides. All too soon it was dusk, and I ended the meeting for supper and the induction of the new recruits. Tonight would be a small celebration for our company.

  The small feast consisted of fresh game and a ground bird which looked like a partridge which was roasted over a fire, freshly baked bread and honey, plenty of ale and a particularly nasty drink falsely called an Elven Youthmaker. It was like a cross between moonshine and a South African drink called mampoer. Both were a homemade drink, and all of them made you very, very happy later on in the evening and hating life in the mornings. After our meals, I stood up and welcomed the new recruits to the Ghost Company.

  “Welcome to those who are new to us, you have passed a tough entrance requirement which is done to make you the best of the best. We have started a strong tradition here in the Ghost Company, which we want to carry on, leaving a legacy for all to try and emulate. We stand for truth, honour, respect, strength through unity, and above all, loyalty to our brothers and sisters within the Company and our Prince, Prince Marcus. To be officially inducted into the Ghost Company you will be asked to take an oath, and to be branded. We started the tradition by becoming blood brothers, but as we grew, we changed it to a branding so that we don’t bleed to death,” I said to nervous laughs. “We, veterans, have all been branded. If you refuse the oath or the branding, you are not part of the Ghosts and will be free to leave. So, can we all rise and say the oath?” I asked as the recruits lined up in front of me with the veterans behind them.

  “I, say your name, do solemnly swear, on my god/ancestors/spirits I believe in, to uphold the values and traditions of the Ghost Company of truth, honour, respect, strength through unity, to protect with my life the brothers and sisters at my side, and to put my life before my Prince’s. So help me god/ancestors/spirits,” the recruits and vets all repeated the vow after me, ending it in a wild cheer.

  The branding went quickly. The hot pokers were brought forward and together with the help from the Youthmakers, which was applied to the blemish-free shoulders as a disinfectant, the red hot brands were put to the fleshy part of the shoulder. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as one by one the recruits and veterans finished the elven drinks and passed out under the bright, starry night.

  ***

  The following few weeks were a blur of training and activities. We did everything from patrol missions, ambush preparations, recon, attack and defensive maneuvers, weapons training and plenty of griffin flying.

  By the end of summer, we were thoroughly exhausted and were getting ready to head back to the HQ for a well-deserved break. We were using the griffins to carry our supplies back to the HQ, and to ferry our men back when we received word from Prince Marcus. I was to attend to a very urgent meeting with him.

  Max and I quickly gathered a few things, before hopping onto our griffins, a mottled black and brown one for me, and a sandy brown and white one for Max. Both were a gift to us from King Diamond, for our efforts during the tunnel incident and our assistance with the exposure of the ogre king. I left Fremod and Farpae to oversee the final withdrawal back to the HQ.

  We made good time, resting only on the shore of Lake Eire before flying again to Castle Doorengaan. Flying over the massive lake with the sun set
ting on the western horizon, Castle Doorengaan loomed up out of the lake, dark and foreboding.

  Below us, fishing boats were returning to the harbour with the day’s catch while trading ships were sailing back and forth between the prince’s capital and distant harbours.

  We circled once over the bustling city, amidst the rising smoke of cooking fires. The citizens of Doorengaan used to seeing griffins as the dwarven ambassador, Ambassador Granitetooth rode his own around the skies now and then.

  We landed in the courtyard of the keep, where a dwarven retainer ran up to take the griffins to the corral where he would brush them down and feed them fresh meat. We headed up the stairs to the main entrance, where Jeroch stood waiting for us.

  “Bob, Max. Happy to see you again,” he said shaking our hands.

  “Good to see you again too sir,” we greeted him in return.

  “Quickly, we need to hurry to the prince’s study. Something vitally important has happened, something that threatens the very survival of Curixeus,” Commander Jeroch told us in a worried tone.

  A cold, sinking feeling entered the pit of my stomach. One look at Max confirmed he felt it too. We hurried after Jeroch, not saying a word as we headed to Prince Marcus study. A pair of guards standing outside the study door opened it for us as we approached. Inside the well-lit room, stood Prince Marcus at a wall which held a series of maps where he was busy studying a detailed map of the southern coast of False Bay, seemingly lost in thought.