Reborn: Book 2 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  The full body armour was similar to the full plate mail which the ancient knights of Earth wore. However, I had a suspicion that the metals used in this were a mixture of titanium and carbon fibre. It was extremely light and flexible and painted with white enamel which shone as if it had been polished and buffed that night.

  I was curious to see how it would withstand a sword blow, but not willing to try it on myself, just in case the metal was not what I suspected it to be. I turned to face the weapons rack and for the first time, I noticed something strange about the weapons there.

  The swords were a deep, midnight black, and even the cutting edge was black. The cross-guard was basic, with a small hook on either end to trap a sword in and to protect my hands. The hand grip was slightly larger than a single hand, allowing for one sword to be gripped two handed if needed, but not overly cumbersome for single hand usage. The handle was wound with soft leather, wrapped in twine which allowed for a good grip and which soaked up the sweat which built up from holding it.

  The pommel was solid metal, giving the sword its perfect balance. The metal again did not look right for this world, seemingly titanium or a high-grade stainless steel from Earth. I did not think that any foundry on Curixeus was capable of this high quality of weaponry and armour.

  The scabbards for the swords hung off the side of the rack. They were a dark black stained wood, with silver patterns worked into the wood to form the locket and the chape. It was a work of art. Whoever designed and made the sword was a master craftsman. I picked up the swords and was surprised by how light they were.

  My body felt infused by powerful energies which increased my natural senses. I could hear better, see clearer and notice even the smallest details like the fine grains of wood of the weapons rack. My heart beat slowed down, and I felt as if I could fight forever like I had a sudden increase in stamina. I heard a faint humming noise, almost a whisper in my ear. I strained to hear it, the whisper elusive.

  “Their names are Whispering Death,” I announced to Mia, who stood staring as the power within the swords manifested themselves.

  “It seems that we have both been gifted with powerful weapons,” she said in awe.

  “Ja, even the short sword, the daggers and the poleaxe are magical. Black Whirlwind, the name of the poleaxe.”

  I quickly strapped the poleaxe across my back, the swords to my hips, one left the other right, A heavy bladed dagger under my left arm with a smaller hunting knife under my right arm. A set of small throwing knives was tucked into my combat boots.

  Looking across at Mia, I was set to review my men. She nodded and stepped out the tent, announcing that I would be out shortly. She quickly joined the ranks, standing at the head of the cadre of mages.

  “Attention!” Max bellowed out as I stepped out of my tent.

  Before me stood the hundred and fifty men and women of the Ghost Company. Dressed in their heavy plate armour like mine, they looked formidable. An unstoppable force destined for great things to come. Max saluted, closely followed by the entire company. I returned the salute, pride swelling in my chest.

  “At ease men. My, my, I see that I am not the only one who received some gifts,” I said as I looked over the men.

  Power pulsated and radiated from the various weapons, shields, and bows of the Ghosts. Max had a tower shield and long sword, the sword virtually dripping a poison so potent that it made the air around it coil and seethed. The shield had strong wards engraved around it that it would be neigh impenetrable, lending both strength and stamina to the user.

  Fremod carried a new war mace, bigger than a fully grown man. The head was spiked all around, and the shaft looked to be solid silver. Fire raced up and down the shaft, blooming off the massive head like a mini volcano erupting.

  Titanius had an enormous two-handed sword, well over six foot long which had tendrils of frost creeping off of it.

  The dwarves were armed with their ancestral weapons, the axe. Each carrying their own personal style, double headed, single headed, dual axes, throwing axes, all had a small blue sapphire mounted on the end of the shaft. From here, tracks of lightning arced off into the air, ionising the atmosphere around them.

  Elven bows which fired magical arrows of fire, ice, energy or poison tipped. I was truly amazed to see the amount of invested magical equipment on display. We would be virtually unstoppable against a force roughly our size, and we would definitely give the bigger cyclops a good go.

  “Today!” I began to address the men. “We will march on to meet with our prince. He will not be expecting us, seeing as we had all died at one point or another, but we will be welcomed as heroes!” Shouts from the men agreed with that statement.

  “We will meet up with the damn cyclops, and this time, it is they who will die!” A tumultuous roar erupted this time.

  “We will chase them out of the forests, back towards the seas and right back down Wendyaline’s throat!” More roars.

  “So let’s mount up and ride towards their doom!” I shouted waving my weapons above my head as my company followed suit.

  There was a flurry of activity as the company broke rank and rushed to break camp. We would be splitting in two from here for now. I would lead half the men, mostly the elves, dwarves and a few humans on griffins towards Prince Marcus’ camp. Fremod would lead the other half, the orcs, trolls and rest of the humans on horseback and foot towards the Great Divide where we would seek a gap in the vast mountain range to force a breakout.

  Once my half was ready, we loaded the equipment into spare cages, mounted our griffins and launched ourselves into the air. Rammstein was ecstatic to be my mount again, chirping and purring beneath me as we flew into the blue sky. I laughed in joy as the crazy griffin managed a barrel roll, with me barely hanging on.

  Soon we were winging over the Elven Forests, with Max in the lead to guide us to where he had spotted the prince’s men earlier. It didn’t take us long to locate the various outposts of defenders. Beginning with the dwarves and flowing seamlessly into the prince’s heavily defended middle section, guarding the rebuilt bridge over the Joliotium River.

  It seemed we had arrived just in time too. A major battle was underway. The cyclops had forced their way over the river, taking huge losses in the process but managing to secure a foothold on the southern side.

  Werewolves and skeletons were pouring through this breach and assaulting the defensive lines of the prince. I motioned to my men in a series of hand signals that we would circle once before diving down and landing at the bridge itself to recapture it. Wild smiles and hearty salutes answered me as we were all eager to try out our new weapons.

  I could imagine the open strings of a song now, Taa Daa, Taa Daa Taa Daa, followed on cue by the drums. Credence Clearwater Revival’s Fortunate Son blearing out of speakers as we were reminiscent of the Huey choppers heading into a hot LZ during the Vietnam War.

  The griffins carrying the cages dropped them safely behind the fight and quickly rejoined us as we began our low banked circle over the battle. No quarter was given on either side. Trolls smashed into cyclops, cyclops crushed humans. Skeletons advanced and chopped everything to pieces while werewolves tore out throats.

  I got ready to jump off Rammstein, standing on his back in a crouch as we approached the bridge. I leapt high into the air as Rammstein flew on. Plummeting to the ground, I readied myself for the land. Knees bent right arm out. I landed with an earth shattering impact the force of the landing knock all of those around me off their feet.

  Hard thuds all around me announced the arrival of the rest of the men, shock waves crushing bodies, hurling them like rag dolls from us. I slowly stood up, drew my two swords and looked around me. Carnage was all around us. We stood in an island of peace as death stalked the woods surrounding the battle.

  “For the prince!” I bellowed as I led the charge into the stunned masses of cyclops and werewolves.

  I flowed from body to body, swords whispering a deadly song as I cleaved
my way through the cyclops who stood before me. A deadly, bloody pathway was opened up behind me as I made my way to the bridge, beside me Max bashed his way forward with his shield, sending bodies crashing into those behind them, his sword thrusting through armour with ease.

  Crackles of lightning announced the dwarves blasting a troop of skeletons who tried to flank us. Flaming arrows flew between the Ghosts, hitting their mark with deadly accuracy.

  I ducked under a wild slash, bringing my blades up to thrust into the belly of a cyclops, lifting him off his feet as I threw him over my head. The enemy began to waver before us, as we cut them down ruthlessly, our armour virtually impervious to their weapons.

  Behind us, Prince Marcus led the fight back against the advancing cyclops who we had cut off. A fight to the death ensued, ending when the dwarves rushed in unopposed and hacked off legs before finishing off the gravely wounded enemy.

  A distant horn sounded on the far side of the river, and soon the enemy began to withdraw. Orderly at first, but the harder we pushed, the more desperate they grew. Soon a full retreat was turned into a rout, and we began to run down the enemy from behind, cleaving in skulls as we chased them over the bridge and down the road for a few hundred metres.

  I called for restraint, breathing deeply from the excitement of the battle. My Ghosts formed up on me in a double line as we turned back and headed for the waiting Prince.

  “Company halt!” I issued the command.

  As one, we stopped and thumped our right foot down hard before saluting the approaching Prince Marcus and his generals. Stepping gingerly over strewn bodies of dead defenders and attackers, I could see the prince was trying hard to get a look into my closed visor to see who we were. He suffered cuts to his arms, and a nasty gash leaked blood from his left brow down his face where the blood dripped to mix with the blood which already lay on the road, making a sickly red mud.

  “Thank you, strangers, for your timely intervention,” Prince Marcus greeted us, bowing in thanks.

  I sheathed my swords, quelling their whispers before reaching to grasp my helmet in both hands. Giving it a tug, I pulled it off my head and with a cheeky smile I replied:

  “No problem Marcus, all in a day’s work.”

  Stunned by seeing us, as the rest of the men removed their helmets, Prince Marcus almost staggered back into General Jeroch’s arms.

  “It cannot be. You were killed,” Prince Marcus said in a quiet disbelieving voice.

  A ripple of stunned voices spread out from us, racing back into the massed defenders.

  “They’re alive!” ”The Ghosts have risen!” “We’re saved!” ”Long live the Ghosts!”

  “GHOSTS! GHOSTS! GHOSTS!” the army began to chant.

  I was astonished at the sight and sound of us being hailed as heroes. We were being elevated here, in front of Prince Marcus and his generals by their army as something else, something which brought hope and with hope, the belief that the cyclops will be vanquished.

  I took the step forward towards a pale Prince Marcus, where I dropped to my knee. The Ghosts quickly fell to theirs, as we in turn all acknowledged the prince as our leader. Shaking, Prince Marcus tenderly stretched out his hand towards my head, as I looked down at the ground before me.

  “Arise Sir Bob and the Ghost Company. Defenders of Curixeus!” He declared to all.

  “All hail Prince Marcus! Wielder of the Ghost Company!” I declared from my knelt position.

  “All hail King Marcus, all hail King Marcus!” The entire army took up a new call as they one and all acknowledged their leader as the true king of Curixeus.

  I stood up with a smile as the prince, now unofficially declared king, looked around at his chanting men.

  “Well, King Marcus. It’s good to see you again,” I greeted him less formal as I embraced him in a bear hug.

  “Good to see you are well and truly alive Bob,” the new king replied with a grunt.

  “Jeroch, looking healthy,” I greeted shaking his hand, the left hand was bandaged up to his elbow, and I noticed he had three fingers missing.

  “It has been a rough winter Bob. We reached a stalemate holding the rivers, but with the first signs of spring, we have been hard pressed from a renewed attack by the cyclops,” General Jeroch informed me.

  “Let us retire from this terrible battle. My men shall attend to the dead on both sides,” King Marcus led us back over the bridge towards his camp.

  All along the way back to the camp, we were almost crushed by the throng of soldiers who all wanted to catch a glimpse of us, just to reach out and touch us. We were pushing through the entire army as heroes. Eventually, we made it past and entered the camp where we made for the pavilion which housed the new king. Bruniks led the men to gather our equipment and to strike our camp not far from King Marcus and to ensure that the griffins were fed and brushed down.

  “Sit please,” King Marcus told Max, Mia and me.

  A servant handed us a goblet of watered wine which I downed quickly before asking for a refill.

  “You have certainly changed in many ways, Bob. As have the rest of the men here. What of Fremod and the orcs?” He asked us as I slowly sipped my second goblet.

  “They are marching towards the Great Divide Mountain. All of the Ghosts are accounted for, and all have changed as you have seen.”

  “What has transpired then? We all thought you were lost in battle.”

  I began to explain, with the help of Mia and Max as to what had happened, how we were all killed in the last raid, and reborn on that island. How we were stuck there for a month before Cotus Myhym sent us back to Curixeus through a portal. And finally about Veggie, who was making his way to his homeland to recruit a few ogres.

  “What a fascinating story!” General Jeroch exclaimed.

  “It is, almost unbelievable had you not been sitting here in front of me,” King Marcus agreed.

  “If you would like, I will send some men down the road to track the remaining cyclops,” I offered.

  “Do so Bob. I will arrange for a planning session tomorrow to see how we can transfer this victory today into something bigger. In the meantime, go and settle down, you deserve it, Bob. Once again you have saved us from a serious defeat.”

  Thanking King Marcus, I led Max and Mia back to our small camp where I sent some of the elves off to scout out the cyclops army which was retreating from us. Tomorrow would mark the beginning of the end for the cyclops invasion. I could feel it.

  Chapter 7 – Beginning of the End

  Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III sat in silence, a dark look on his face as his war leader delivered the news. Taking a slow sip from a crystal wine glass, the emperor hurled it against a wall before springing to his feet.

  “Enough!” He shouted. “I was told these humans shall die beneath our swords come spring. Instead, it is us who have fallen!” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III bellowed.

  “Stand, do not be so hasty,” Empress Wendyaline began to say.

  “Silence!” The emperor raged back, causing the empress to flinch in fear.

  “You will return to Mountdom and learn to hold your tiny little tongue,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said with venom in his voice.

  Empress Wendyaline visibly paled as she quickly rose from her dais and fled the study where the emperor stood in his rage-induced fit.

  “Explain to me yet again, general, how it is we lost that battle?” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III asked with sarcasm.

  “Your worship. The prince’s men were being pushed back, with our forces streaming across the bridge when a new company, armed with magical weapons, and by magical means, pushed us back over the river, causing the army to rout,” General Etawar explained yet again to his emperor. The fear induced sweat running down his face to drip on the carpeted floor which was inches from his nose as he lay prone in front of Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III, totally at his mercy.

  “Very well Etawar. I accept this, this setback. You may rise,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III told Etawar
to the general’s utter relief.

  Climbing to his feet slowly, General Etawar composed himself before speaking.

  “Your imminence, all is not lost. The main bulk of our army is scattered amongst the cities we have captured. If we gather them under one banner, together with the empress’s army, we can still defeat the prince.”

  Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III looked back from the maps he was studying to look at his general.

  “Go on,” he indicated.

  “If we keep a small defensive force at the forward fort of the Elven Forest to prevent any troops from marching out, we can mass our forces north of the Great Divide Mountains. It is lightly guarded as the enemy has concentrated their forces within the forest to counter our troops,” General Etawar paused to gauge his emperor’s reaction.

  Seeing interest in his proposal, he continued with his explanation.

  “The same could be done with both the orcs and the centaur campaigns. We gather all the soldiers at Fearit and from there strike hard and fast down the highway which travels through the mountain and empties onto the Plains of Plenty.”