by Shawn Muller
“Already done. Just provide a list for him and it is yours,” Prince Marcus replied.
“Well then Marcus, Jeroch, let me be on my way to prepare for this,” I said as I saluted the Prince and Commander Jeroch.
“Farewell and good hunting Bob,” Prince Marcus wished me well as I left the tent.
“I feel for them. He knows it is almost a suicide mission, yet he did not raise it once,” Prince Marcus said to Jeroch once I had left.
“Yes Marcus, if only we had more of them with us,” Jeroch replied with a heavy heart.
***
We did not sleep that night as we prepared for our raid. Supplies were gathered, weapons honed and armour repaired. The anxious wait continued well into the next day as Prince Marcus led his army off to the forward defences, leaving only a small token force at Traders Post, and us, the Ghost Company.
It was well past midday when a messenger came riding hard on a lathered horse, bringing an urgent message for me. The cyclops armies were on the move, and the lead elements of both armies were locked in light skirmishes. We were to proceed with our mission.
Calling out to the lounging Ghosts, we quickly gathered our packs, tightened our armour and mounted our remaining griffins. The few remaining orcs and Fremod reluctantly climbed into the cage which would transport them with us, with another cage carrying some additional supplies, we may need.
We flew low and fast over the treetops as we headed directly for the fort. The odd arrow flew up to meet us but failed to find a target. Below, we saw the massive cyclops army marching in unison to meet Prince Marcus. Wild packs of werewolves howled their frustration at us as we flew over them, straining at heavy chain leashes as they sought to follow our flight path.
We were lucky we did not come across any dragons on the way. Our griffins were straining under the combined weight of our heavy combat armour and the additional gear we carried. We fast approached the fort which shone dully in the growing gloom.
It was a pentagon shaped wooden fort, made from whole tree trunks which had been gathered from the bordering forest. Short, squat towers stood at each corner, a squad of human archers keeping watch over the surrounding fields of fire. Warning bells sounded as we were spotted, the archers shooting flaming arrows in our direction which fell short of us.
I signalled for us to circle the base, each of us opening a pack containing heavy clay jars. At another signal, I dropped my first pot of five onto a tower, just missing the platform. The jar shattered and splashed its contents over the wall and the platform. I immediately threw my remaining jars at each tower as I passed them, soaking my little section with the cooking oils that were stored within.
It didn’t take long before we had all thrown our clay jars at the platforms while the transport cages were dropped well out of bow range. The orcs and troll, together with a few humans and elves, quickly made for the gate, shields high to deflect the arrows being fired at them.
Mia and Thackeray launched a series of fire blasts at the oil patches igniting them. The flames quickly spread across the oil, engulfing the now fleeing humans. Within moments the entire outer wall was awash in flames, shooting high into the air. It should be enough of a distraction.
I landed my griffin close to Fremod and joined in the assemble ranks as we moved forward within the burning walls. Our aim was to attack the buildings which housed reserve forces and some high ranking cyclops.
A large squad of cyclops charged at us from the main building, bellowing vicious battle cries. We simply stopped, waited for them to get closer, and threw our spears into their midst killing or wounding them all. We resumed our steady march, noting more cyclops assembling at the doorway to the building.
We regathered our spears as we passed the corpses, readying ourselves once again. Shields held high, we marched on to face the cyclops. Behind them, stood a huge cyclops well over three metres. He was dressed in gold armour which seemed to glow faintly in the dark. He never had a helm on, but as we got closer, I saw he had what looked like a crown. I realised that this was the cyclops emperor.
“There he is! That’s the cyclops emperor! Get him!” I shouted.
Discipline held out. We never broke rank as we marched forward towards our hated enemy. We lowered our spear points, ready to pierce the opposing cyclops soldiers who stood before us and the emperor.
“Ghost Company! Steady march!” I issued the command ten metres away.
“Thrust!” I shouted as we got within range.
Our phalanx formation seemed to be well suited for the cyclops. Our long spears held the bigger foe at a distance while we killed them where they stood. The floor quickly became slippery underfoot as we marched on over dead cyclops.
By now, the wooden walls had burnt out in the cold night as heavy sleet began to fall. More heavily armed cyclops attacked us, taking the place of their fallen comrades. The emperor edged them on, well away from the danger. We slowly gained ground on him. The cyclops ranks began to thin, fewer reinforcements joining in.
“We got them now!” Fremod shouted as only a handful still stood to opposed us.
A battle cry erupted from us now, and we broke ranks, dropping our spears and charging in with our drawn swords. Fremod swung his massive maul, taking on two cyclops himself, the rest of us teaming up against individual cyclops.
I broke off my attack of one cyclops after hamstringing him, and I ran to attack the emperor myself. I roared a challenge, sword held high as I closed in on the stunned emperor. Blood roared in my ears as adrenaline coursed through me.
Faintly I heard a thump of an explosion. Screams of pain from behind. Distant clashes of magic, their energies sizzling in the charged air. A figure loomed to my right, and I instinctively dove left, rolling back to feet as a sword clanked into the spot where I should have been.
I heard a high-pitched scream from a woman and turned to see Mia being hacked down by three dark shadows. I started running towards her, shouting her name. I saw as my men were hard pressed by a new force which had arrived from the ruined gates.
The looming figure behind me chased me as I ran to where Mia lay dead. I lashed out with my sword, feeling it bite deep into bone. The figure before me turned to face me, my sword lodged into its skull. I looked straight into the dark abyss of the eyeless skeleton and screamed in terror.
Sensing the figure behind me, I dove right, the sword smashing down onto the skeleton before me which shattered the bones of its head. The body crumbled, falling to pieces before my eyes. I looked up to see the wielder of the sword too was a skeleton.
Old, dried skin hung in places on its body, yellow tendons holding the bones together as bits of rotting furs and clothing hung in shreds over its body. Its dark empty eye holes looked at me, a skeletal grin on its face as it dragged its massive bone sword from the ruined skeleton at its feet.
Opening its mouth, screaming a silent scream, it attacked me yet again, raising its sword high above its head. I scrambled backwards on the floor before regaining my feet. I dropped my sword as I bolted for the gate, my only escape from this madness.
“Retreat! Fall back!” I shouted, not realising that I was the only Ghost left alive.
I ducked under a swipe of a sword which was aimed for my head, barely missing the deadly blade. I ran out the gates and immediately ran for the griffins. I slide to a sudden halt, as the massive form of a dragon reared up over me, bits of griffin flesh and blood dripping from its wide maw.
It drew its head back as if to strike like a snake. I dived forward, narrowly avoiding the lightning-quick strike. The dragon bit down on a chasing skeleton, shaking his enormous head violently, bits of bone rained down on me. I was on my feet in a flash and ran for the trees, hoping that I could lose my pursuit.
A horseman rode at me, the human soldier wielding a sabre above his head as he sought to cut me down. The horse reared and bucked the rider off as a gush of superhot flames hit the ground behind me, vaporising the few skeletons which were still chasing me
.
I quickly grabbed the reigns of the wild-eyed horse and threw myself onto the saddle before dragging the horse about, kicking it into a gallop. The dragon screeched behind me as it launched itself high into the air as it chased me along the highway.
I could feel its hot breath down my neck as it tried to bite down on me. I did not need to urge the horse faster. The terrified beast ran itself to death as it tried to escape from the dragon. I heard an inrush of air and yanked the horse hard left just as a hot stream of fire melted the road we were just on.
The horse ran into the trees, dodging widely around massive trunks. Crashing through the underbrush, the horse stumbled slightly as the dragon blasted the trees around us, instantly setting them alight.
The horse galloped down a small animal path, neck stretched out with me crouched low over it to avoid the tree branches whipping past us. Another fiery blast, this one close enough to us to set the horse’s tail alight. Screaming in panic, the horse tripped over an exposed root, throwing me over its neck as we tumbled to the ground.
A crash overhead and the dragon smashed down a few small saplings to land nearby. I could not move as the horse lay dead from a broken neck across my left leg, pinning me down.
A triumphant cackle from the dragon’s neck revealed a small, evil looking man. A thick goading stick in one hand, he brought it down across the dragon’s head, which responded by shooting a wall of fire at me. Unable to move, I could only watch as the wall of fire, as hot as a sun rolled over me.
***
“That was too close for comfort General Etawar,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III told his general in a relieved tone.
“Indeed, it was your imperial holiness. It seems that this, Ghost Company was not done as we had anticipated,” General Etawar agreed.
“They truly fought well. If it were not for the timely arrival of the Horde, the empire would be an emperor short,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said shakily.
“Truly you are blessed. The Horde was due to arrive in two days’ time and not last night.”
“Are you certain they are all dead now? I saw the last Ghost soldier flee out the gates before being pursued by my dragon,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III asked his general yet again.
“Yes, your lordship. The body was burnt beyond recognition, leaving only ashes which blew away in the winds.”
“I will sleep easier at night knowing that. We are blessed that the entire enemy army is not like this Ghost Company. We would be seriously pressed to hold the lands we captured if they were of the same metal. I believe we will conquer this realm by summer. Already we are chasing them back across the river,” a relieved Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said.
“Truly the enemy has crumbled before the Horde, as have all our foes before. However, the enemy prince has rallied his troops well and has suffered minimal losses. The majority of them shall cross the bridge unscathed,” the general informed his emperor.
“Curse them all! I wanted them crushed before they could cross that bridge!” The emperor said, throwing his goblet of wine at a wall.
“They will destroy that bridge. That is a guarantee. But we will use the Horde to force a river crossing elsewhere,” General Etawar assured Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III.
“I trust that you will be correct general. I want that city,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said menacingly.
***
“We have made it sire, the last of the troops have crossed back over the bridge,” Commander Jeroch reported to Prince Marcus.
“Take it down,” Prince Marcus gave the order to a messenger who sprinted off to do his prince’s bidding.
“Still no word from Commander Bob?” Prince Marcus asked.
“None Marcus, we will have to assume that they are all lost. The delay in the cyclops attacks lends to that theory.”
“It will be a great loss if they are indeed all gone,” Prince Marcus said, bowing his head as he rubbed his weary eyes.
“How are the men cooping?” He asked Jeroch.
“Considering everything that has happened, they are in high spirits. We managed to slow the cyclops down, bloody their noses a bit. And now we can defend ourselves better during winter before striking back come summer time,” Commander Jeroch said upbeat.
“Sire! Dwarves approach!” A guard called out from the perimeter of the camp.
“That must be King Diamond,” Prince Marcus said as he headed towards the approaching dwarves.
The Prince’s army was camped yet again around Traders Post, with a large defensive force guarding the now destroyed bridge and the few shallow enough areas up and down the river where the cyclops could ford across. The dwarves would be a welcome addition to the defences of the area, bolstering the under siege humans.
“Ah! Prince Marcus so pleased to meet you at last!” The short dwarven king greeted the prince, wrapping his hands over Prince Marcus in a bone-crushing handshake.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Prince Marcus winced back. “Let me introduce you to my commanders, Jeroch my general and adviser, Smoothie my high wizard, Duke Berken my heavy horse commander and of course, King Panyk, Elven King and advisor of the ranger and scouting forces, and lastly Flipher, an advisor from King Rodic.”
“Pleasure to meet you all, now, where is Commander Bob and his men? I have a small gift for him,” King Diamond asked looking around.
“I am afraid that he along with the entire Ghost Company has been lost during the cyclops raids. They sacrificed themselves to gain us sufficient time to withdraw to the bridge after we were heavily attacked a few days ago,” a sad Prince Marcus told a stunned King Diamond.
“That is terrible, terrible news to hear,” King Diamond said shaking his head.
“We will avenge the Ghost Warriors! Cyclops blood will flow for this!” He shouted, and the army of dwarves who agreed noisily shook their weapons above their heads.
“We are in agreement with that. I have received word from my ruler. We shall soon have a battalion of mountain trolls at our disposal. Unfortunately, my ruler cannot release anymore, or make any king trolls available. However, you may draw upon as many hill and plains trolls as you need,” Advisor Flipher told the assembled group.
“Well, Flipher lets discuss this in my tent. Welcome news indeed. Not only have you spoken more words now than ever before, but any help will be most appreciated,” Prince Marcus said with genuine gratitude.
Turning to head back towards his tent, the gathered leaders began their planning for the defeat of the cyclops. The following days were spent discussing possible strategies for the upcoming winter. It was decided that the allies would be on the defensive for now using the Joliotium River as a natural defensive barrier, with a major counterattack planned for the following spring and summer.
King Diamond would be in command of the defence to the east. From the Great Divide Mountains and into the Elven Forests. King Panyk would control from the west of the Hahnium Jungles where Queen Canderson and her orcs held out well against the cyclops to last major bend in the river, and Prince Marcus together with the majority of the trolls holding the centre and the river fords. And so things stayed well, until the first winter snows and the first attacks by the skeletal horde.
***
“Enemy sited at the western ford!” The alarm was shouted.
Quickly, the defenders raced to line the earthen walls which lined the riverbed, with catapults and ballistae armed, ready to fire if the enemy dared cross. A thick fog hung lazily amongst the trees, limiting the visibility on both sides.
“There! At the water’s edge!” A guard shouted pointing to the far bank.
“Fire a warning shot! Tarball!” A captain ordered.
Wood creaked as a catapults aim was readjusted and reloaded with a rock which had been thickly smeared in tar. Lighting it quickly before launching it in a high arc, the captain watched it sail over the river to where it landed and rolled along the sandy river bed on the opposite side. The flames dispelled the fog briefly, allo
wing the men to see the enemy figures as they prepared to cross the knee deep river water.
“Heavens help us!” A private screamed as skeletons began sloshing into the icy cold waters.
“Steady men! We have the high ground!” The captain shouted trying to calm his men.
“Runner! Report to Prince Marcus what is happening. Ask for urgent assistance,” the captain ordered the messenger who saluted before sprinting off down a track to deliver his message.
“Do not fret small human. We have this,” a huge figure said behind the captain.
Two hundred mountain trolls ambled into the defensive area, taking up positions alongside the humans.
“I suggest you duck,” the troll told the captain before pulling out a metal chain as thick as the captains’ wrists and double his height in length.
The troll wrapped one end around his padded lower right arm while the other end of the chain had a massive spiked iron ball welded onto it. Lifting his arms above his head, the other trolls following his lead, the troll leader began to swing the huge ball and chain mace around and around over his head.
The chain began to whistle, slowly and quietly at first, but getting louder and louder as the chain was swung faster and faster. By now all the humans had fallen to their bellies as they dove to the ground to avoid the solid balls.