Awaken: Book 1 (Chronicles of Ghost Company)

by Shawn Muller

  Two hours after sunrise, we reached the same stand of trees we had camped at the other day. Looking at the men, we doing bad. We had lost the two men during the first raid, and another 8 dead, captured or wounded during the counter ambush. That ambush was too well organised, too well situated to be anything but planned. There was a spy in the camp.

  Word came back from Farpae, my deep under cover spy within Prince Owyne’s army that Babar was just about ready to start frothing over the nightly raids and over the fact that we had escaped. Prince Owyne was having a real hard time trying to control the orcs’ rages. All together, we had killed and wounded close to fifty men, and severely hampered their fighting efforts with a lack of food and water. Considering the losses I had taken so far, the pay off was worth it. Prince Owyne and his men would be hard pressed to make it to the battle with sufficient food and water, which would lower his army’s moral. That would provide Prince Marcus with the edge he needed.

  He also reported that most of the orcs were patrolling the perimeter now, with all the elves mobilised to hunt us down by horse. Not quite, what I wanted, but beggars cannot be choosers. Tonight would be our rest night.

  Tachojay together with Deez, Reniek, Bruce and Ivan, would move around the enemy camp and at odd intervals shooting arrows out of the dark to kill as many sentries and orcs as they could. All of that was to keep the army from sleep, to disrupt them as much as possible so that tomorrow I could implement part D of Low Blow, or at least a slightly modified version.

  Those of us not on guard duty slept blissfully, while the entire enemy camp was in a constant uproar by the random arrows killing them. The elves were becoming more and more infuriated as they could not find any signs of those. The ghillie suits, with the overcast, pitch black night helped conceal my men. By dawn, the enemy camp was seriously on edge as they prepared to march on to meet Prince Marcus on the battlefield. Tachojay and the men arrived back at base sometime after breakfast, exhausted but laughing all the way at their antics of the previous night.

  “It worked like a charm,” he reported to me.

  “They are so worked up now on a lack of sleep and frustration that the orcs are on the constant edge of becoming berserk. The elves are saddle sore from chasing us Ghosts, and the humans are sleep walking.”

  We all burst out laughing as we readied ourselves for the next phase of Low Blow.

  Leaving the heroes of the night to catch up on some sleep, as they knew the plans and would meet us at the rendezvous point later, the rest of us left quietly and headed due north to swing around the army and head for their eastern flank. Our outriders spotted plenty of small dust clouds as Prince Owyne and the elven cavalry tried to screen the advancing army from any attacks by us. We set a parallel route matching the army, but far enough that their flankers would not spot us that easily. We were in no real rush as I waited for the army to halt for their main rest for the day.

  Titanius and Li would periodically range closer to the enemy to gauge their progress and to see how the flanking security looked. They were making slow progress. All the soldiers seemed to be walking with their hands on their weapons constantly and trying to look around themselves all the time. The patrols varied from horsemen to orcs, all searching for something to attack. I decided to change my plans and to help them with that.

  Li was given a fresh horse - a thoroughbred race horse, massive, long legged and eager to run all the time. Li being the smallest, therefore the lightest of us, was going to be a decoy for the enemy horsemen to follow him around the countryside for a few hour, just enough time for me to lead the orcs away from Prince Owyne.

  Stripped of all non-essential equipment, and only wearing light leather armour, Li was ready for his ride. He tied a bright-coloured piece of cloth on his spear and made a great show of leading his horse away from us, but towards the enemy line. Keeping first out of sight of the patrols, he began to show himself here and there among the small grass hills, cresting a hill in front of the lead column. Two elven riders galloped to intercept him, while more riders trotted closer to cut off his escape. The two riders flanked him, one on either side of him with their blades drawn. When they were within arm’s reach of him Li, became a blur of movement. He swung his spear down diagonally at the Elf to his right, slashing open the poor fool’s throat, before driving the butt into the throat of the other rider. Li immediately dropped the spear and wheeled his horse around and kicked the beast into a gallop. The closest horsemen spurred their own horses into a gallop as well, one or two taking a pot shot with their bows. Soon, all the mounted patrols were streaming past the army, bent on exacting revenge for Li’s actions.

  I waited a few minutes for the last of the riders to disappear from view before making my move. We had donned our standard Roman-style armour by then, and had arranged ourselves in a single horizontal line facing the enemy column. I led the Ghost Company at a steady walk, slowly cresting a small hill where I came to a stop on the peak while my men waited patiently below. A cry went out from the remaining orc skirmishers as they spotted me sitting on the hill watching them. More orcs joined them as they drew closer together getting themselves into formation. I looked left and right at them, the signal for my men to join me on the hill. As one, my men rode their horses next to me and stopped their spears and lance tips held high. A greater cry, followed by a horn sounded as most of the orcs joined their brethren.

  In the distance I could see Babar, dressed in his plate mail jogging to the front of his troops. I moved forward at a slow pace, my men moving as one with me. Well out of bow range, I reined in my horse and shouted to Babar to get his attention.

  “Hello Babar!”

  He looked at me in confusion, not recognising me under my helmet. I removed it and wiped the gathering sweat off my forehead.

  “Lovely day for a fight isn’t it?” I asked.

  “You’re responsible for the raids?” he asked, his anger growing visibly.

  “Maybe,” I answered, shrugging at him.

  “You, I should have killed you at the ball already!” Babar shouted, spittle flying out his mouth as he started to foam slightly.

  This was going to be easy.

  “Maybe, but tell me, how is your lovely wife and my unborn child? Well I hope?” I said, goading him into his berserk rage.

  He let out an almighty roar, head tilted back as his fury was unleashed at my question. Those orcs around him, sensing his bloodlust building, joined him in the roar, the building crescendo spreading through the entire assembled body of orcs. I had to admit - at that point, I was afraid. I had never seen an entire orc army before, never mind one going into a berserk rage. Seeing them, change into bloodthirsty fighters was one of the scariest things I had ever experienced.

  “Do send your wife my regards ol’ chap,” I said, turning my horse around to head back towards the small hill.

  Babar grabbed a double-headed axe from an orc next to him and hurled it at me with his all his bloodlust strength. The blades narrowly missed me, and buried itself deep in the grass at my horse’s feet. Carl, although big and dumb-looking was the first to react - he had his horsebow across his saddle and the moment Babar reached for the axe, Carl began to nock an arrow, releasing the arrow the same time as Babar threw the axe. The arrow dipped before it reached Babar, and by some fluke, pierced his left foot, pinning him to the ground. My horse reared in fright when the axe landed in front of it, but I managed to gain control before spurring him into a gallop. My men followed immediately, firing arrows at the now pursuing orcs. Babar was still pinned to the ground, but his wild curses followed us as we headed towards the distant hills to the east.

  We stayed ahead of the orcs for most of the day, slowing down only to shoot arrows into the mass that was following us. This was more to keep them annoyed and in a berserk state so that they would continue their pursuit away from the main body of the army, who was now without both the orcs and the elf cavalry. By nightfall, we were exhausted, and our horses were just as tired.
The orcs could not have been in much better shape, but we had decided to leave them now and head straight for the hills, and safety.

  It was slow going at night, because not only we were so exhausted, but also the sky was overcast and there was almost no light for us to use. Closer to dawn, saw the clouds move off and a brilliant full moon greet us, which lit up the grasslands under an ethereal light.

  By sunrise we were within shouting distance of the hills marking the eastern border of the battle grounds. The horses could only manage a walk, while most of us dozed in the saddles. Mia was surprisingly fresh, having used a spell or two to keep her and her horse invigorated, but she did not want to share the spell with Thackeray as she said it would give us an unfair advantage, the cow.

  Midmorning dragged on and before we knew it, we were surrounded by orcs who had been hiding in the long grass. At first, our horses were spooked, as were we, fearing that somehow Babar had gotten in front of us and had ambushed us again. But a deep, friendly voice greeted us.

  “Welcome Bob. It’s about time you showed up,” Fremod said, walking through the milling horses to stand by my side.

  “Fremod, am I ever glad to see you! We are just about done. We have the entire orc army on our tails somewhere and we have been riding through the night to get here,” I said, exhaustion straining my voice.

  “Never fear, we will take you to safety now. We had lookouts all along the hills, waiting for sign of you and the pursuers. So far it seems that you may have out ridden them,” Fremod said.

  “That may be so, Fremod, but we orcs have a stubborn will and the stamina for it. Sooner or later Babar will be showing up,” Mycotaur said as he approached us.

  “Let’s get a move on then. No use waiting here for them to pitch up,” Fremod said, as he showed us the way to safety

  The huge Troll led our weary party back towards the rocky hills, with a healthy screen of orc infantry watching our flanks and tail. It took us almost an hour before we saw our final destination, a fairly high, solid earth wall topped off with wooden stakes all along the front.

  “Careful where you tread now, you don’t want to find our surprises!” Fremod shouted down the line at us.

  “Stay behind us and we will lead you through to the gates!”

  An orc took each of our reins and guided our horses through a seemingly random pathway towards the wooden gates that stood up for us. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that there were patched of dying grass scattered throughout the front of the walls, stretching a good distance back towards the grass plains. So it seemed that the troll had placed similar traps as the ones with which we had captured him. I had taught him well.

  The few dwarves in the company lined the walls as we rode through the sturdy gates. A cheer rang through the air at our arrival and soon we were helped off our horses and handed mugs of ale in celebration of our achievements. The horses were led off to a temporary stable where they were brushed down and fed oats, while the men were led to their tents and warm food. Most just collapsed inside their tents and fell fast asleep. I was led to the main command tent that I would share with Max and Fremod. Fremod excused himself as Max and I also fell on top of our beds and quickly fell asleep. It felt like I had just closed my eyes when I was gently nudged awake by Fremod. I slowly opened my eyes, and noticed that it was dusk.

  “Sorry to wake you, Bob, but the orcs have been spotted. They have followed the trails we left and are making camp about a click away from us,” Fremod informed me.

  “It’s okay, Fremod, can’t sleep the whole day away,” I said as I gingerly stood up, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

  “What’s for supper?” I asked him with a grumbling stomach.

  “We are busy roasting some game we caught this morning, should be done soon.”

  “Smells delicious,” I said sniffing the air.

  “Hopefully it makes the orcs hungry,” Fremod replied.

  “Right, show me around and fill me in,” I told Fremod as I took a swig from a wine skin.

  Fremod led me to the walls, which on the inside of the camp were stepped to allow us access to the top and had a small wooden barricade on to protect us from any arrows fired in our direction. The gates were made from single wooden poles, about five metres in height and tied together with thick ropes. A thick log lying horizontally across the middle of both gates, locking the gates shut. The sides of the camp were protected by rocky cliffs, which could only be accessed by climbing up a sheer rock wall farther in the hills. The rocky walls curved inwards, making a triangle-shaped camp in which we could hide. But the best part about the camp, which we had found a few weeks before the games began, was a crack that ran back farther down the rocks that led to the middle of the hills. This was fairly well hidden and would form part of our escape route once we managed to engage the orc army fully.

  By sundown, most of the company was up and eating supper and enjoying a peaceful night for a change, and Fremod had finished showing me the camp and the defence plans when we joined the rest of the commanders and Mia for supper.

  Over supper, I filled Fremod in on how our operations had gone. Overall, it had been a mixed bag, with some of our raids working, and the counter ambushes hitting us harder than I would have liked. We were just waiting for feedback from Tachojay to hear if the last part of Operation Low Blow would be as successful.

  “I hate to admit it, but there is defiantly a spy within the Ghosts,” I told my lieutenants.

  “Are you certain?” Fremod asked again.

  “The counter ambushes knew exactly where we would be. The only way that could have happened was if somebody told them when I laid out the plan just before we began each raid,” I explained.

  “That clears the orcs, dwarves and you, Fremod. While all knew the rough outline, the details were only made clear on the spot.”

  “Which leaves either the elves or the humans who were with us,” Max stated the obvious.

  “Exactly. I trust us Earthlings, Mia, you are supposed to be neutral, and the elves are the epitome of honour it seems.”

  “That narrows it down somewhat,” Max said.

  “It does. From now on, we play with our cards closer to our chest. We watch our backs and keep watch on the humans we have recruited, especially the newer ones. Somebody out there is trying really damn hard to get us to fail,” I said to my trusted companions.

  Everybody nodded in agreement, even Mia, before standing up and moving off to their tents. Tomorrow would sound the beginning of the next operation, Operation Dummy Run. Other than the sentries on duty, the rest of us hit the sacks early, expecting a very testing time the following day.

  Dawn came with a clear, sunny day. The orc camp broke early and they made their way towards our walls, lining up in battle formations out of bow range, but close to the first few concealed traps. We had lined up on the walls, decked out in full heavy combat gear. A handful of men who were the best archers had scaled the rocky walls farther back and were waiting armed with bows, throwing axes and spears for the orcs to attack. The traps before the walls were set in such away to funnel the orcs towards the outer walls and away from the gate, which was the weakest point in our defence. The archers on the rocks would provide much-needed covering fire as needed, with a few surprises of their own up there. A handful of men had already led the horses with our supplies out the back escape route where they would stand ready for our retreat, when it came.

  A nervous anticipation fell over us as we waited for the orcs to make the first move. This would be our first major conflict facing another enemy in standard battle. Both Max and I moved among the men, saying a few calming words where needed. Fremod climbed the walls and stood beside me, while he nonchalantly polished his massive maul.

  “They will attack any time now. See, Babar is beginning to whip them into frenzy.” Fremod pointed out the huge orc standing with his back to us, waving his arms in the air.

  “Wish we had Tachojay now. I’m sure he could have put an arrow
in his back,” Max commented.

  “I can give it a try,” Fremod said, putting his maul at his feet.

  “Why not. Men! Hold your fire! Nobody else fire until I give the command!” I shouted.

  Fremod took a long bow from a pile of spare bows together with a quiver of arrows and rejoined us on the walls. The six foot long bow looked like a small twig in his hands. Gently he notched the arrow and pulled back the string, not before snapping the bow like the twig it looked like next to him.

  “My apologies about that,” he said as he gathered another bow.

  Once again, he notched the arrow and gently pulled back. This time he held it without breaking the bow. Taking careful aim, he exhaled before releasing the arrow. The arrow flew high in the air, almost disappearing from our view before turning and plummeting back down to earth. It was lost from our view, but a single sharp cry went up from the direction of the orcs told us it hit home. An orc next to Babar had toppled over, the arrow sprouting from its chest. Babar spun around, looking in our direction with hatred on his face. I, in turn, gave him a cheeky wave while my men cheered loudly at Fremod’s shot. Bellowing in anger, Babar shook his fists in our direction. The massed orcs broke rank and charged at our positions.