Awaken: Book 1 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  Queen Vickerson appeared at the doorway, a short and stocky lady, more muscular than fat. She was broad at the shoulders and thick around the waist. Looking closer, I realised she was pregnant. Her dark complexion was glowing under the candlelight. She wore a loose-fitting blue blouse which matched her rather dark blue eyes. Under the blouse I could make out the outline of chainmail. She also wore a very comfortable-looking pair of hose, brown in colour, with calf-high boots with a small heel. Behind her walked a mountain of an orc. While Queen Vickerson had a small jutting lower jaw and you could not see her lower teeth at all, this brutish male had a serious overbite with almost tusk-like lower canines sticking out of his bottom lip. He wore studded leather chest armour and greaves, as well as plain dull green trousers and leather sandals. He was armed with a single battle-axe. He eyed the assembled lords and ladies with suspicion before following closely behind the queen, who patted his right arm to try and make him relax.

  “That’s her husband, Babar,” Jeroch whispered to me while I just nodded, eyeing the huge orc up and down.

  Between him and Bruniks, I didn’t know which one was more deadly. By this time, we had followed Prince Marcus and Prince Owyne to the growing crowd of dignitaries. Prince Marcus warmly greeted them all with either a handshake or an equally warm embrace, except for Babar, to whom he bowed. Babar simply bowed his head in return, but still with a hard look in his eyes.

  “Queen Canderson, ruler of the Hahnium Jungles.”

  The quiet buzz in the ballroom stopped suddenly as Queen Canderson stepped into the room.

  She was fairly short, with brown hair curled over her left shoulder, framing a round face that had a shy smile on it. She had large, brown eyes that seemed to be searching for something, or somebody. She wore a simple, sleeveless white dress that clung to her body before flaring at the hips to hang on the ground. It had green leaves and vines embroidered around the bottom, making it look like she was walking through a jungle. She had a small golden flower brooch on her right shoulder and around her slender waist was a thin leather belt that had a simple ivory buckle. I happened to glance over at Prince Marcus, and saw a look of utter love in his expression. Queen Canderson started to descend the stairs and halfway down she spotted Prince Marcus. Her face practically shone, it glowed with that much love. Both of them seemed to stop breathing as they looked into each other’s eyes. Slowly she made her way down and stopped before Prince Marcus, who took her hands in his and gently kissed them, welcoming her to his home. She gave a shy smile and curtsied in return, murmuring something I couldn’t hear as the guests began once again to speak to one another, most likely about the prince and queen. I stood there watching the couple as Jeroch slid closer to me and whispered in my ear.

  “It is sad really. They are so deeply in love, and everybody is aware of it. But alas, it is a forbidden love.”

  I looked at him, questions forming on my face when he answered.

  “You see my dear friend. Love between different races is not common. It does happen from time to time when a human and elf, or orc and elf or even between an orc and human fall in love and marry. They are not shunned as such, especially here in Doorengaan. However, out in the farmlands it is not acceptable. Even among their own kind, they are disowned. Children born from these inter-race marriages suffer worse as they are half-breeds, not accepted among anybody. Often they end up joining bandit bands for acceptance from somebody.” I looked at the situation under this new information, and felt sad for the prince and his love.

  “Love between two ordinary civilians is hard, but love between two powerful leaders is near impossible, especially if they are different races. For Prince Marcus and Queen Canderson to ever marry, both would have to abdicate and renounce their right to rule and they would have to elope somewhere where they will not be recognised, or discovered. However, both know what duty they have for their kingdoms, to their loyal subjects. It may not be right, but it has to be done to hold the peace and unity of all in Curixeus,” Jeroch ended.

  “That is very sad,” I said, shaking my head.

  At that moment, Prince Marcus approached, leading the orc Queen to introduce her to me.

  “Ah, Robert. I am very pleased to introduce you to the lovely Queen Canderson, most wise ruler of the Southern Orcs,” Prince Marcus said.

  “Oh, Marcus,” Queen Canderson said, playfully slapping his arm.

  “Pleased to meet you, Sir Robert,” Queen Canderson greeted.

  “The honour is all mine, but please call me Bob,” I replied, taking her hand and bowing over it.

  “Well-mannered and very courteous, Marcus. No wonder you let him do his own thing. It seems he is raiding my soldier stock as well,” she said with a sly smile.

  “Not raiding, ma’am, merely providing an opportunity for a select few individuals to experience something different in life,” I answered.

  “Quick witted as well. I am most pleased he is on our side this time. I see big promise within him, Marcus.”

  “As do I, Canderson, as do I.”

  I almost blushed at the compliments, but managed to maintain my composure.

  Prince Marcus introduced me to the rest of the high-profile guests, Bruniks I knew already, Prince Owyne I had met earlier, but the introduction of Queen Vickerson’s husband was the most interesting.

  Babar towered over me by a full head, and was immensely broad across the shoulders. His biceps rippled under the thin linen shirt he wore with his leather armour. When introduced to each other, we just looked each other up and down before shaking hands. His hands dwarfed mine completely, and his grip hid huge strength. He squeezed my hand as a show of strength, but I did not flinch. Instead, I squeezed back. I was not a big as him, but I was stronger than I looked. We stood there for a few moments, squeezing each other’s hands, looking calmly at each other not wanting to be the first to flinch. Without warning, Babar pulled me closer to him where he bent down a little bit to look me square in the eyes. I felt his warm breath on my face, his nostrils flaring in anger and pain I hoped. I managed to grind his small finger’s bone against the ring finger. The sudden pain was briefly visible in his eyes before he gained control of his emotions again. Just as quick as he pulled me towards him, was the suddenness that he embraced me in a massive bear huge with a huge bellowing laugh.

  “Well met, Bob. Not many orcs, never mind men have stood so long with me,” he said in a deep baritone.

  “Glad to meet you too, Babar,” I said, quietly trying to nurse my hand without anybody noticing.

  “Forgive my husband, Sir Robert. He likes to test his strength wherever he goes. Give him half a chance, he would have wrestled you as well,” Queen Vickerson explained.

  “Maybe later?” he asked me, hopefully.

  “No, Babar. Save it for the games,” Queen Vickerson told him.

  Babar looked disappointed before he asked me, “Will you be fighting against us, Bob?”

  “Well, I probably will be on the field somewhere, who I will be facing I don’t know yet,” I said.

  “Excellent. I will be looking for you, Bob, and then we can wrestle,” Babar said, eyes gleaming.

  Great, somebody to avoid at all costs, or maybe not.

  My plan expanded some more.

  We eventually moved off to one side after the introductions had been made. Idle chitchat occupied the group for some time, while I mainly kept to myself, slightly out of the circle of conversion.

  Glancing around the ballroom I noticed that the same thin, dick of a nobleman who accused the Ghosts’ of being a joke, was standing against the far wall speaking to the other general who gave up his commission before the troll peace treaty was signed. Nudging Jeroch, I nodded my head in the direction of the two men and asked him who the dick was.

  “That is Count Vimour. His lands lay around False Town, the western most city of the prince. Count Vimour may be annoying at times, but Prince Marcus suffers him due to the revenue generated by the count. Trade taxes are rather good
as the city is well situated along the Great River,” Jeroch explained.

  “And the ex-general? I thought he would be banned from these balls,” I asked.

  “He is well connected with a few of nobles. His hometown is False Town and is some distant relation to the count himself. I take it he was invited by one of the nobles.”

  I mulled over the information, a slight warning bell was shrieking in my head but I could not say why. I had seen these two meeting before, but could not place it, yet. Babar got hold of a keg of ale and was trying to force-feed me mugs, which distracted my thought process.

  Not many people danced with Queen Vickerson and Babar always kept a very close eye on her, no matter how much he was drinking - time to put my plan in motion. I managed to sneak away from Babar and approached Queen Vickerson, where I bowed low to her.

  “Queen Vickerson, may I have this dance?” I asked her even though I did not know the local dance customs. I planned to improvise, though.

  “Why certainly, Sir Robert,” she agreed.

  “Just Bob, please, your majesty,” I said with a shy smile.

  She held out her hand, which I took and led her to the dance floor. The rest of the lords and ladies had already lined up and started to dance by then.

  “I must confess, your highness, I do not know the local dance customs. Perhaps I could teach you one of mine?” I offered.

  “Why yes Bob that would be splendid,” she replied with genuine interest.

  So I showed her the waltz, well, what I knew of the waltz which was more than everybody there so I didn’t make a fool of myself. Instead, Queen Vickerson enjoyed it so much she requested another dance. While the other lords and ladies were barely touching each other in their dancing, the queen and I were almost glued at the hips as we flowed across the dance floor.

  All the while, Babar stood glowering at me over his ale. I swirled the queen across the dance floor, her laughs of delight pealing clearly across the ballroom and heard well above the music, and Babar was just about ready for it. At the end of the music, I bowed deeply once more and gently kissed her the top of her hand. She was blushing by then from the dancing and from being pregnant, and I topped it off by whispering my thanks in her ear, making it look like she was blushing from something I said. I led her off the floor and handed her back to Babar, who had crushed the ale mug in his hand. He moved closer and stood there towering over me, trying to intimidate me.

  “Well Babar, my compliments on your wife. The lovely queen is quite the dancer. She almost swept me off my feet there,” I said, winking at the queen while Babar began to breathe loudly through his nose, nostrils flaring.

  “Don’t worry there, old chap, I will teach you how to dance like that too if you want,” I said.

  Queen Vickerson giggled at that, and Babar went for his axe, which was strapped on his left.

  Before he could draw it, Queen Vickerson shouted,

  “Stop this nonsense, Babar. Go take a walk outside and compose yourself.”

  Babar froze midway. I stood there smiling arrogantly at him when Jeroch pulled me away from Babar.

  Babar dropped his hands and stormed off towards the doors that led outside, but not before trying to shoulder barge me off my feet. I simply swivelled my hips and stuck out my foot as he passed, causing him to stumble past me instead. Several sniggers were heard, but Babar managed to compose himself as he left the ballroom. I immediately apologised to the queen, excused myself, and headed back to my room. Jeroch followed me where he confronted me halfway up the stairs.

  “What in gods names are you playing at Bob? Do you know what you have just done? You have made an enemy for life. Babar has hunted down many a person and orc for smaller insults,” he hissed at me through clenched teeth.

  He was visibly fuming at what had happened.

  “So I gather, my friend, but trust me. I know his type. I know we will end up fighting against him. So the plan is, just briefly, to piss him off so much that he only focuses his revenge on me and that he hunts me down with his troops, leaving you free from fighting the until it’s too late for him,” I explained as we walked up the rest of the stairs.

  “You are truly insane, Bob.”

  “Maybe, but it will work. Just watch and see.”

  “If the rest of you people from Earth are like you, then I would fear to visit this place.”

  I just turned and gave him big grin.

  “Trust me. You won’t even see me come fight time. But we will be there, somewhere,” was all I said before entering my room.

  Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided close contact with Babar. If I saw him across a room, I waved and smiled. If he was with the queen I would simply bow low to them both and kiss her hand and over compliment her and not pay any attention to him. Slowly I could see his anger build. Soon it would reach tipping point and it would explode.

  One early morning, I took a walk along the battlements around the training yards. There I saw Babar, dressed in full combat armour, painted a dull enamel green, taking on a handful of his own guard. The design of the armour was one of practicality – simple joints allowing for ease of movement while protecting the vital areas. He wore an open-faced helm that had the back of his neck open. Interesting I thought, not much protection for the neck was not common amongst the human armours. His men wore similar styled plated mail, all a dull green as well. Some were visible dented as was his from their exercise.

  Babar was armed with a huge war hammer. The head was easily the size of a small car engine block and probably just as heavy. He swung it around as if it was a small stick with a pebble tied to the top. His men were armed with either single-bladed axes or double-headed axes just as big as Babar’s hammer or simple axe-and-shield combos. I stood and watched them fight, picking up how they moved, their individual tactics and fighting skills. I eventually walked down to the training area where I met with Dominic, the main trainer of Jeroch’s men.

  “Morning, Bob, what’ll it be for ya t’day?” he asked me.

  “Let’s go simple, sword and shield, but just play along with me.”

  “Come now, Bob you know better than that, dual-wield swords or axes rather. Or that new pole arm, spear thing of yours,” he suggested.

  “Trust me, sword and shield. Treat me like I’m a green recruit learning the basics,” I said as I peered over my shoulder at the orcs fighting.

  “Ah, I see now,” Dominic said as he looked over my shoulder too.

  “You ever fight against them?” I asked as we strapped on practice pads.

  “Some. Mean buggers, mighty strong and quick. But thank the gods they become dumb when they go berserk.”

  “You not the first to mention that,” I observed.

  “Strueth, I tell ya. They make for scary, formidable foes when in the blood rage. Dish out punishment all too quickly. And they can take it to. Often takes a few men to take a berserk orc down. But with proper planning you can take a whole army down. When they charge in their rage, they don’t heed any flanking manoeuvres against them. A few years back, Prince Owyne used this to good effect when he led Queen Canderson’s orcs into an ambush. His archers cut them down from the sides and back as they tried to bash their way through a solid wall of shields. Cost Prince Marcus the fight that year,” Dominic explained.

  “Interesting, so tell me, have you ever come across an orc who never goes into a berserk when he fights, one that can think on his feet?” I asked as we walked to the training field.

  “Never heard of one, would be a frightening prospect that, an orc with brains who fights. Think that we would lose the war very quickly then. Thank the heavens that will never happen.”

  I was deep in thought while I painstakingly laboured through my workout. I made many mistakes and really looked like a raw recruit. Dominic just laughed at me as we sparred back and forth. Eventually I called a halt, huffing, and puffing, and thanked Dominic for the lumps he had given me for a change. While I was bending over catching my breath,
I looked over at Babar, who stood smiling at my ineptitude. I made a great show of stretching my back and arms as I walked back to the arms racks and put the weapons and armour away.

  I watched an orc who stood off to one side, swinging two single-headed axes around him. I causally walked up to him and stood there with a look of admiration on my face as he did a warrior’s dance with the axes. When he was done, I clapped loudly and hooted at him. This drew Babar’s attention again, this time with a look of contempt in his eyes. Time to make it count.

  “Excuse me. That was awesome!” I exclaimed to the orc who looked slightly baffled.

  “I mean, dude, swinging those axes like that, was so cool, man,” my beach bum accent really started to confuse him and those around him.

  “Like, show me, man. Teach me how to fight with those axes, man. You’re so cool.”

  “I don’t understand what you are saying, human,” the orc replied, his face wrinkled up as he tried to understand what I had just said.