Awaken: Book 1 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  I held my crisp salute until he nodded an acknowledgement, after he had unblocked his ear from my shout.I did an about face, and still in drill sergeant mode issued the attention order. Amazingly, as ramrod as my men stood, they straightened even more.

  “Thank you Robert,” Prince Marcus thanked me formally.

  “Soldiers of, what was that name again?” Prince Marcus asked me.

  “Ghost Platoon Sir!” I answered, still in drill sergeant mode.

  “Yes, Ghost Platoon. I have been following your progress for the last two weeks, and I must commend you, and your leaders for putting yourselves through that torture. I have faith in Captain Robert that no matter what you may be called upon to do, that you will not fail.”

  Max led a single “Hurrah!” cry from the platoon.

  “Robert, please lead us through the squad,” Prince Marcus asked.

  The dwarf ambassador was clearly impressed with our parade so far, his men not so much. They were sizing us up, as all good soldiers did to each other, looking for any potential weaknesses, just in case, always just in case.

  I led the inspection tour through the assembled platoon, introducing each member to the prince, who shook each man’s hand in turn. Once the entire retinue was through, including a few court hangers on, I took the prince for a tour through the barracks and the training ground, stopping by the obstacle course.

  “I am very impressed with the set-up Robert,” he told me at the obstacle course.

  “Thank you sir, this is just the beginning, though,” I said.

  “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at that.

  “Yes sir. This is only for the initial selection phase. After this we still need to do months’ worth of weapons and tactics training before a final sign-off on the candidates.”

  “You mean you are not finished training these men?” He asked, wide-eyed.

  The Ambassador Granitetooth standing nearby listened intently.

  “No sir, this course you see before you is only here to weed out those who are suitable or not to join us. Even after passing this, they can still fail the next months of training. But, for now, the current group will do until after winter. I will be a bit lenient on them.”

  “Why be lenient now at all?” Ambassador Granitetooth asked.

  “Mister Ambassador, winter is only two months away. A huge emphasis was placed on how deadly these troll raids are, and I want to be ready before they come. I will drag these men through kicking and screaming for that very reason. If I had to carry on with the training as planned we may not have the man power to do anything effective. At least now I have something to work with.”

  “You call sixteen men something to work with? I call it a joke,” a particular thin-faced court hanger-on said.

  I looked him in the eye and challenged him.

  “Would you like to join us here every day for training sir? Perhaps you can lend your expertise to our little joke then?”

  He paled at that and quickly moved to the back of the crowd. Prince Marcus shook his head in irritation before making his way back towards the parade ground, where my men were still standing at attention.

  “Captain Robert, my thanks goes to you and your men. I am most impressed and pleased as to what you are aiming for. You have the crown’s full support in your mercenary venture, regardless if it is seen as a joke or not. That will be seen after winter.”

  With that, the Prince and his retinue mounted their horses again and made for the city gates. Jeroch and the dwarves remained behind as I nodded to Max to dismiss the men.

  “I can see potential in what you are doing here Bob,” Ambassador Granitetooth told me.

  “I have one wish before I give you some news regarding your request for a blacksmith who can make your equipment.”

  “Sir?”

  “I want some sort of representation of the dwarven people in your company. They do not necessarily have to have a command, but the king wants dwarves to be included.”

  “Sir, as I have said earlier, the Ghosts have no limit as to who or what joins. If they can make the cut, they make the company. We will not recruit just anybody,” I said.

  “Fair enough. I present to you the four dwarven recruits who will try out for your company. In return, a blacksmith is currently leaving Dwarfinaan to set up a workshop here for your needs. As long as there are dwarves in your company, the blacksmith will work for you, at a price of course. Otherwise he will return back to us at Dwarfinaan.”

  I considered this proposal for a moment while Max and Titanius behind me nodded their agreement. After a heartbeat longer, I stuck out my hand and shook the ambassador’s hand, Jeroch there to witness the event.

  “Right, with that out the way, I will be off back to the castle to deliver my report to my king.”

  With that he started to walk back to the city gates, Jeroch walking next to him with his horse’s reins in his hands.

  “Don’t worry about him. He has another bloody litter waiting for him at the gates,” one of the Dwarven recruits said.

  Max, Titanius and I looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

  “That little bastard had me all figured out from the beginning didn’t he?” I asked the dwarf who only smiled back at me, white teeth gleaming from under his full facial beard.

  My amusement stopped as I looked at the new recruits.

  “Wipe that smile off your face recruit! You’re not visiting your mama anymore! Now move your arses to the barracks and strip down! You don’t deserve to wear any armour yet!” The dwarves panicked at the sudden shouting.

  Stumbling over themselves they ran towards the barracks with Titanius in tow, shouting words of encouragement.The next two weeks passed in a blur. The dwarves were put through their paces on the obstacle course, while the rest of us concentrated on hand-to-hand combat, instructed by myself and Max. I taught Krav Maga while Max taught a mixture of Jujitsu and Judo. In between that we ran our ten kays every day, and twice a week we did the obstacle course as well, all of this to increase our fitness to maximum levels.

  The dwarves finished the end of the two weeks rather well. They were certainly fitter than the human recruits. Only one dwarf picked up an injury. He twisted his ankle quite badly, but insisted on completing the two weeks. They were a bunch of tough bastards that was for sure.

  The two weeks ended as the rain season started. A huge autumn storm blew in off the lake and we were confined to our HQ for a few of days. We turned one of the empty sleeping halls into a training hall, where we carried on with our weapons and hand combat training. The dwarves taught us axe-fighting techniques, while one of Jeroch’s men, Carl, was efficient with quarterstaff weaponry. Training with these weapons took up our time for a few more days while we waited for the storm to end. We also used this time to work on various fighting tactics, trying to blend in what each individual knew. In the end we devised a mixture of modern and medieval styles of fighting - all depending on the need and fighting style, of course.

  At last the storms ended, and once again I led the men out for our morning run. Half way back, Sandstone, one of the dwarves, saw something strange in the sky heading towards us. It looked like a giant bird, but its body shape was all wrong, and it looked to be carrying a huge box. Two more of these strange creatures appeared out of some clouds and joined the first one, who started circling over our HQ. The three creatures, each carrying a box, dived down towards the ground - just as a hawk would when hunting rabbits in a field.

  When I could eventually make out details of the creatures, I stopped dead in my tracks. The whole platoon stopped dead as well, crashing into one another. Creatures of mythical tales from Greek mythology landed right on my door step. Huge gryphons, each with a dwarven rider, had descended down from the sky and deposited three huge wooden crates in the HQ courtyard.

  These magnificent creatures which had the body of a lion, the head and wings of an eagle, were as big as tigers. The muscular feline body was covered in small, almost down l
ike feathers while the cat tail ended in a larger single feather which was used to stabilize the gryphon during flight. The wings were covered in larger feathers, all the same colour as the body. Each gryphon was a unique colour – one was a mottled brown, the other various blues and the third was a midnight black with white tipped feathers on its wings. The lion clawed feet had retractable claws which the gryphons used to gain traction as they walked about their handlers, snapping at each other. The massive hooked beaks were predominantly a burn orange colour, with the midnight black gryphon’s beak ending in a black tip.

  A lone dwarf stood alongside the crates, watching the gryphons rise majestically back into the air, more graceful than any hawk I had ever seen, and certainly a lot more deadly too. They circled once before giving single piercing cry, louder than any eagle I had heard, and flew off heading north over the lake. When we got back to the courtyard after our run, the lone dwarf was busy opening up one of the crates, muttering to himself in the process.

  “Captain, I know this feller.” Sandstone told me.

  “He’s the new blacksmith.” I nodded my thanks.

  I was still trying to get use to the dwarf accent which sounded similar to a Scotsman’s in my opinion, with maybe a touch of Welsh or Irish for good measure. I walked up to him while Max led the men to the baths to wash off the morning dust and sweat before breakfast.

  “Excuse me. I’m Bob, the captain here. Welcome to our headquarters,” I greeted the dwarf.

  He turned around, looked me up and down before turning back to opening the crates. I was shocked, first because the dwarf was a female, and second because of her casual dismissal.

  “I said-”

  “I heard what you said, and as far as I am concerned, I don’t care who you are, or who my uncle thinks you are. I have been dropped here in the middle of nowhere after flying on those blasted creatures for hundreds of miles to do gods knows what for heavens knows who, and I can’t find a brush anywhere to brush my hair!”

  I stared at her while she ranted and raved a while longer before trying again.

  “Ma’am, can I help you look for you brush once we have settled you in?”

  She turned around, glared daggers in at me then quietly and calmly told me to piss off.

  I shrugged not knowing how to handle this situation and headed off to the baths myself.

  “Sandstone, did you know that the blacksmith would be a female?” I asked him when I got there.

  “Um, no I never knew it sir,” he answered, looking to the other Dwarves in confusion.

  “What she doing here?” Pebbles, another dwarf, asked.

  “Looking for her brush,” I answered as I climbed into a cold bath with a wince.

  “Ooh, sir, that’s bad. She’s one of them fussy ones, royalty,” Sandstone said, wincing as he climbed into a bath as well.

  “Who are you calling fussy?” A female voiced called out at the doorway sounding rather annoyed as her voice raised an octave or two higher.

  I had never seen men, naked and half-dressed scramble for cover in the presence of women before. Smiling, I calmly washed myself off before speaking to her.

  “Lady, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care who you think you are. You are damn rude and arrogant. Now, before the men die of embarrassment, please step outside and wait in the damn dining hall for me.”

  Indignant, she turned around and stomped off out the bathhouse.

  Laughing, I climbed out the bath and quickly dried and dressed before going to the dining hall to speak to the new blacksmith. She was sitting on a bench near the fire-place, brushing her long black hair in short savage tugs with an ivory comb.

  “Well, I see you have found your comb at least,” I said as I sat opposite her.

  “Don’t be smart with me mister,” she said, waving her comb in my face.

  “Why don’t we start again? My name is Bob. I am the captain of this company. Welcome to our headquarters,” I said smiling, and stuck my hand out.

  After a moment of hesitation, she shook my hand.

  “Pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Hioki. I am the youngest daughter of Granitetooth the ambassador. I am also a blacksmith of the highest regard in Dwarfinaan, as well as lead armour and weapons designer to the king’s guards. Well, at least I was until they found out I was a female. As if sex makes a difference,” Hioki ended with more savage tugs of the comb.

  “I see.”

  “So here I am, dumped at the end of the world to be looked after by my father. Again.”

  “I don’t think so ma’am.”

  “Stop with the ma’am, my name is Hioki.”

  Tough chick this one.

  “Right, Hioki. Your father doesn’t stay here. This is a separate place from the castle,” I told her.

  I could see by her confusion that she didn’t know what was planned for her, so I filled her in on the details.

  “So I can still be a blacksmith, experimenting,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes, her hair forgotten for the moment.

  “Yep. I want you set up at the back. I have a workshop area already laid out for you. We will help you move in and I want goods to start flowing out within four days. Before winter it must be done. If you need helpers just shout and I will organise some for you. Anything you need, just ask,” I explained.

  She looked at me a while longer before answering.

  “Deal. Give me your ideas and plans and I will see what is feasible to make, and what I cannot make.”

  By this time the rest of the platoon had filed in for breakfast. I introduced her to them, the male dwarves seeming to be all knees and elbows in front of her. I took it as she was single and good-looking in their eyes. She was rather short for a dwarf, very broad and muscular shoulders and arms, thick tree trunk-like legs. Her face was round with a wide nose, deep-set eyes set far apart. Her long, black thick hair had a very oily look to it as well. She lapped up the attention of the other dwarves though, and seemed to relax once the cooks dished out breakfast. She ate more than most of the men in the platoon, only matched by the other dwarves in fact.

  After breakfast we set about moving all Hioki’s equipment into the new smithy, where she lit the fires and was soon heating up metal to start her work. It took most of the day to move all the equipment into position for her, not leaving us much time to do any training. I decided that we had done enough for the week and took the guys to The Bells and Whistles for some R&R. Hioki declined the offer, as she wanted to settle in first before anything else.

  It was early evening when we arrived at The Bells and Whistles, the regulars had already started filing in. I led us to an empty table at the back before ordering a round of ales for us with the serving lady. It was the first time in about a month that we were actually taking a break, a well-deserved one at that. I could see that some of the guys were taking strain from the constant training. Hopefully this would allow them to relax and forget about everything.

  The first round arrived and was downed in a few gulps, the second round ordered with an instruction to keep it flowing. A special keg of ale was rolled closer for us, with the serving lady in attendance for us alone. A few hunks of meat and loaves of bread were brought over, complements of the house as I had paid for the keg of ale upfront. We were carving slices of meat of and eating chunks of bread while drinking our ale, visibly relaxing, and intent on drinking the night away.

  A small, very recognisable accented voice could be heard other side the tavern, asking for a drink of ale. The bartender turned the voice down, citing underage reasons.

  “Ag please man, bru. Ai got the bucks, ek se.” I heard the man plead.

  “Sorry son, I don’t sell to children,” the bartender said again.

  “Come on, you serious, I am a man.”

  Again the bartender declined, this time with a threat about being thrown out the tavern.

  I got up from the bench, and tried to spot the familiar voice among the press of people, but could not see the per
son. I finally spotted him as he walked out the door. I tried to hurry after him, but was hampered by the amount of people in the tavern. I eventually made it out the door before looking up and down the street, just managing to catch a glimpse of him as he turned a corner.

  I hurried after him, and when heard him being confronted, I broke out into a sprint. A shout, followed by a grunt and a wet thud was all I heard as I rounded the bend. I saw a small figure circling around, knife in hand, a large thug following him warily, another thug lying dead on the ground, blood pooling under him. The smaller figure launched himself at the thug, a blur of arms and hands, metal screeched against metal with a few small sparks flying off, the small figure leaping back just as fast as he attacked. The thug swayed a bit, his knife clattering to the ground as he raised a hand to a gushing neck wound before he fell to the ground dead. The small figure looked at me before slowly backing away, getting ready to turn and run.