Reborn: Book 2 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  “Didn’t know you were looking,” I shot back to a dirty glare.

  “You still have not answered me satisfactorily Bob,” Swift Running Sands grated once again from behind Fremod.

  “Well, let’s assume the King Rodic brought along king trolls and mountain trolls. I would place them in the centre with the orcs on their flanks. The human forces I would place behind them, with the aim of moving them to block the opposing humans and to exploit any gaps which may form. The mounted troops, your men included will be kept in reserve to counter their horses, and once again exploit any holes. Although, I think using your men as a shock troop to attack the werewolves may work better. Elves will provide counter fire against their archers while the dwarves will hide in the mountains and hit them from behind. Magic welders will negate and attack theirs and try and land some magic onto their troops. That leaves the griffins, which I don’t want to use until the dragons have been taken care of, which hopefully will happen at the beginning of the battle. If the dragons survive, or negate the spells or whatever is thrown at them, then I would have to send the griffins in to harass them long enough so that they won’t attack the ground troops. If I had it my way, siege engines would have been built by now and used to soften up the enemy formations before we engage. Well, that’s my plans anyway. It’s up to the kings to agree to a plan and for us to follow.” I ended up saying.

  “Simple enough plan,” Swift Running Sands said.

  “If it were so simple, then why hasn’t the king or anybody else thought of it?” I asked.

  “Simple enough to deduce,” Veggie spoke up from the shadows.

  The kings and leaders were still sharing ale while we stood off close to the tent flaps.

  “He is afraid of making the wrong decision and thereby losing his kingdom he has just gained. The stress is causing him to think and act irrationally.”

  “Could be Veg. Fremod, could we count on your father to side with us and to be a voice of reason?” I turned and asked Fremod.

  “Most certainly, my father is not one to listen to foolish nonsense. He shall tell King Marcus honestly where his flaws are.”

  “Great. What about King Diamond? Will he be amicable? I know you Panyk will follow this plan as will you Swift Running Sands,” Both nodded in agreement whilst Granular and Ward looked at each other.

  “We will convince him if needed,” Granular replied.

  “Great. Now let’s break the party and get things moving. The cyclops won’t wait for us to sort our shit out before attacking.”

  I walked up to the standing leaders and loudly cleared my throat for all to hear.

  “I apologise for interrupting, but we need to discuss the defences of this land Marcus. May I provide you with a thought? A possible solution as on how we will achieve the seemingly impossible?” I asked politely.

  “Bob. Please go on, what are your plans then lad?” King Rodic asked me after he looked at his son Fremod, who gave the faintest nod in return.

  I pushed through the leaders and walked over to the map hanging on the tent wall. I picked up a charcoal stick and began drawing on the map, indicating troop placements as I outlined my plan in more detail. It took a while to get through it, but by the end, all were satisfied and were pleased as to what their specific roles would be for the forthcoming battle whether it is tomorrow or the next.

  Messengers were sent for, and orders were written up and dispatched. Shortly, the entire army was as busy as a nest of fire ants which had been kicked open. There was not a lot of daylight left. But there were plenty of able-bodied warriors to go around completing the work.

  The camp was still abuzz with activity well into the night, the swirl of magic abundant as it mixed with the evening air and the thousands of fires which blazed through the night. The men eventually settled down well after midnight, the threat of falling asleep whilst fighting pushing most to try and catch some shut eye.

  Horns blared in the early morning air. Already warm, the day promised to be hot and humid. The lead elements of the cyclops army could be seen spilling out from the mountain highway onto the small foothills which preceded the Plains of Plenty.

  Men rushed to their various defensive positions as the commanders rushed to the command tent to wait and see what would happen next. Battle armour was tightened, swords, axes, and spears at the ready. The tension began to build along the earthen wall which was thrown up late last night.

  So far, all indications showed that the cyclops were more interested in securing the hills than moving to attack. Company after company exited, forming up into ranks, facing us. As one battalion had formed, it moved off to the right where the new battalion would form up.

  And so it continued for most of the morning. Massive packs of werewolves ran wild between the two armies, but never close enough for us to shoot at with our bows. Midday came and went, and still the massive forces of the cyclops continued to stream out of the canyon.

  King Marcus had called a meeting to finalise the plans which were decided upon yesterday. So far, all was still looking okay, but when would the cyclops attack? And where were the dragons? It was obvious that the cyclops were not going to attack today, so the forces of King Marcus were rotated to rest and eat while those on sentry duty continued to watch the cyclops army amass.

  Closer to dusk saw a small contingent of cyclops walk towards our lines holding a truce flag which was tied to a spear and held high in the air. A flurry of activity brought the king and his fellow rulers to the front lines to watch the procession approach.

  “Do you recognise those cyclops, Bob?” King Marcus asked me as I reached his side.

  I looked long and hard at the approaching cyclops before answering.

  “I recognise the taller one, the one dressed in the fancy armour. I think he may be their emperor. I was on my way to kill him when the skeletons struck, and we were killed,” I turned to answer the king.

  “Seems they want to parley, Commander Bob, escort us please to meet these invaders,” King Marcus ordered.

  I signalled for Max, Titanius, and Fremod to lead the way while King Marcus led the other leaders down the earth walls and onto the killing field before them. The cyclops halted well out of bow range, yet all the nearby archers were ready to train their bows and let loose a deadly rain of arrows. A distant creak of wood announced that at least one siege engine was also trained on the cyclops delegation.

  There were eight cyclops arrayed before us, the important looking one and one looking like a general slightly behind him and to his right while the rest had the look of being bodyguards. No human representative or translator was present either. I halted twenty metres from them. My men spread out to my sides while the kings and leaders halted directly behind me. I stepped aside, my hand on the grip of my plain sword, as I made way for King Marcus to step forward.

  “I am King Marcus, ruler of these lands which you seek to invade. Behind me are the rulers of my Alliance, rulers of the lands you have also invaded. What do you want?” King Marcus asked gruffly.

  “I am Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III, and I answer to only myself. I have come to claim these lands on behalf of my beloved, Empress Wendyaline of Westdom. Bow now before me and I shall spare your people’s lives. Resist and great slaughter shall follow for which you alone shall be answerable for,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III proclaimed in a loud, booming voice.

  The leaders reacted in indignation, shouting at each other as well as at the cyclops emperor himself who stood and took it all in.

  “You have wed Wendyaline of Westdom?” King Marcus asked in a quiet tone.

  “Indeed, I did. She is now the rightful ruler of Curixeus by rights of conquest. Her brother, King Dwyne’s head decorates the walls of The Capitol.” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III said with a sneer as he looked down at King Marcus.

  “You come here, boasting as to the death of my brother, King Dwyne, boasting as to the marriage to my sister and then threaten me!” King Marcus shouted in rage.

 
“Your brother was pathetic and weak. He begged and pleaded for his life, but your lovely sister still had his head removed. Besides, it was she who seduced me, not that I was fighting her off,” he leered as King Marcus smouldered in rage.

  I reached out and grabbed his arm before he could begin reaching for his sword. Behind him, King Rodic and Queen Canderson, both wearing a mix and match of chainmail hauberk with chest and back plates, rerebraces, gauntlets and greaves had their weapons in their hands. A massive engine block sized maul for the king troll and an equally large double headed battle axe for the queen of the orcs.

  Seeing the drawn weapons, the cyclops bodyguards drew their swords and interposed themselves between the emperor and us, while we reacted by drawing our weapons and standing between the kings and the bodyguards.

  The emperor stood there, surrounded by his bodyguards, gloating as King Marcus seethed in fury, his fellow Alliance leaders sharing his anger. Recognition flittered off the cyclops faces as they stood facing myself and my fellow Ghosts.

  We wore our heavy armour again. Similar to the armour we wore when we attacked the cyclops forward base. Articulated plated mail in a Roman style, with open-faced helms, heavy gauntlet gloves, and well-protected legs. We stood side by side, behind our shields now, weapons out but sword tip pointed down. The cyclops did not intimidate us at all.

  The emperor looked over the shoulders of his bodyguards at us, first dismissing us then flicking another, longer look. The colour slowly drained from his face, sweat springing up along his brow as he looked me in my eyes.

  “Hello there,” I greeted him as I looked over my round shield. “Remember me? Our little discussion was interrupted last time. But rest assured, there won’t be any such interruptions next time.”

  “Who are you?” An ash face Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III asked me as he took an involuntary step back.

  “You can call me Bob. I am the captain of the Ghost Company. The same one that almost got you last time before the skeletons came to your rescue, the same ones that will get you next time,” I threatened him.

  Taking another step back, Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III looked over the four of us as we stood now crouched behind our shields, protecting our leaders.

  “You have my ultimatum humans. Surrender or die,” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III told us again.

  “And you shall have mine,” King Marcus roared as he stepped between Max and I. “You and your cyclops’ be damned!”

  With that, King Marcus turned around and walked back towards his defensive lines with the other kings following suit, each member looking at the cyclops with hatred in their eyes. The cyclops emperor tracked them with baleful eyes before settling his gaze on us.

  “See you later,” I told him with a malicious grin before sheathing my sword and turning my back to him.

  My men followed suit and off we sauntered, following our leaders back to the defensive lines before us.

  ***

  “What have I done? What have I unleashed?” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III asked his silent general Etawar.

  “I do believe we may have been misled from the very beginning your eminence,” General Etawar tried saying diplomatically.

  Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III simply turned and looked at his general without a word. He looked once more at the retreating figures of the enemy leaders and the Ghosts before striding off once more towards his lines.

  “General Etawar. We attack at dawn when the sun breaks over the mountains and will shine in the human’s eyes. We will not fail, or I will have your head. Do I make myself clear?” Emperor Standlerd-Sinb III warned his general.

  “Clearly emperor. It will be done,” the general bowed in acknowledgement.

  ***

  We made it back to our lines without saying a word to each other. I was lost in thought, almost shaking with the thought that I almost had him, I almost got to the cyclops emperor on that fateful night when we had all died.

  This time, death or no death beckoning me, I would not miss the opportunity. And I think that the emperor knew that as well by the looks of thing. I began to suspect that the Ghosts may be targeted specifically to reduce us as a threat.

  I grabbed Max, and the two of us made our way back to the king’s command tent. I had a change of plans which I had to inform him about, one that I think he would actually like.

  “I know that look by now Bob, what are you planning? You’ve got the look of a cat that knows where the cream is kept and how to get it without being caught,” Max told me.

  “Simple ol’ Max ol’ buddy of mine. Trust me I have a plan for that emperor, one which will work and will end this war for good.”

  “Trust you? Shit, now I know we’re in deep shit.”

  “Ye of little faith. Have I ever let you down?”

  “Well, the last time you said to trust you, we all died.”

  “True, but look at us now. Bigger, better and badder!”

  “Badder. Right,” Max looked at me sceptical at my choice of words.

  “Yeah, bigger and badder. We got this don’t worry. His ass is ours.”

  “Ok, but if I die again, I’m gonna tell you ‘I told you so,’” Max warned me with a grin.

  We continued with our argument as we approached the group of leaders. They were busy with a discussion themselves as to what had happened.

  “Your opinion then, Rodic, is that they will attack at dawn,” I heard King Marcus ask the troll king.

  “With certainty yes. It is what we would all do.”

  “Alright. We shall ready our forces to receive the attack at dawn. I trust that all is ready?” King Marcus asked of all the assembled leaders who nodded.

  “Excellent. Then let us retire and prepare for the final battle for freedom. Win or lose tomorrow, it all ends here,” King Marcus said to a murmur of agreement.

  “Excuse me, King Marcus,” I called after him as he turned to head back to his tent.

  “Yes, Bob. What can I do for you?”

  “I have an idea that I want to discuss quickly with you, with regards to the Ghosts.”

  “Oh?” The king asked curiously. “I took it for granted that you would be leading from the front as we defend ourselves against the cyclops armies.”

  “Well, technically yes and no. We will be around alright. Let me explain how quickly,” I said as I led the king into his tent, laying out the changes in the plans for the Ghosts.

  Chapter 8 – To arms my Brethren

  The morning crept over the two opposing armies, as quiet as death itself stalking a dying man. Thick mist separated the opposing forces, not a breath of wind stirring the air. Muffled noises came from both camps as the many soldiers readied themselves for the day’s battle.

  Final edges honed on weapons. Straps tightened, shields strapped to arms, helms placed on heads and moved back and forth to make the fit more comfortable. Strings tied to bows and arrows placed into quivers, spare strings waxed and placed in pouches.

  Horses loaded with armour or fed and watered. Lances sharpened and extra shafts requisitioned from the quartermasters. A warm meal was eaten, the last for many before marching off to await the sun which would announce the beginning of the end.

  The end to what? End of tyranny? The end of an unstoppable foe? The end to peace, to a way of life? The end of dreams and wishes, especially to those who will spill their blood on the grassy plains, dying for the right to protect their loved ones, for the right to conquer those deemed weaker than oneself. The death of innocence as violence is met with violence.

  Soldiers standing in ranks, facing one another, praying to their gods and ancestors that they survive, making false promises if they do survive. Some visibly shivering, messing in their breaches, others making idol boasts to hide their fears while most just stare quietly as they await their fate.

  Before the end of the day, only death and destruction will be the real victor and only the ravens, vultures and rats will benefit as they grow fat off the rotting corpses which will litter th
e foothills of the Great Divide Mountains.

  A horn sounds from the centre of the human camp, followed by more up and down the assembled men. Within a few heartbeats, the massed soldiers of the allied armies march to take their positions to defend their homes, their loved ones against the almost seemingly unstoppable cyclops horde.

  Taking up the centre, the king trolls marched up to the earthen walls which the dwarves had created using their formidable earthen magics. The first time in all remembered history that dwarves had revealed their power to anybody other than themselves.

  Vast mounds of soil were pushed from the depths of the earth to form a shallow ditch and a high wall, a ditch which was filled with wooden stakes which the cyclops would have to negotiate before climbing out of the ditch and assailing the temporary walls.

  Shallow pits littered the killing fields in front of the defensive wall, placed almost haphazardly to break the closely-ranked formations of the enemy soldiers, which would allow the elven archers to fire their deadly arrows into the broken ranks and deliver their horrible slaughter.

  Armed with very long halberds, the length of two humans, the king trolls would hold the centre with the mountain trolls armed with equally long spears the left and the heavily armed orcs, already beginning to froth at the mouth, the right. Queen Canderson and Babar could barely contain the massed orcs. If all went well, the berserk orcs would be unleashed into the broken ranks of the cyclops, causing mayhem and panic amongst the attackers.