The Banner of the Broken Orc: The Call of the Darkness Saga: Book One

by Aiden L Turner

  The mace connected, but not with its intended target as Lord Godwin drew his sword and parried the blow. ‘My God, man! You are a baron! Son of a lord! Have you no honour? No compassion?’ Oswald looked on with frustration and anger, trying to form words to ask for an explanation. ‘She needs to die, Oswald, but what kind of nobleman would use a mace to crush this poor creature’s skull.’ He turned towards the doctor and said, ‘You are the expert, give her mercy.’ The doctor nodded sullenly and bent down towards her. She looked up at him and saw the sorrow in his eyes. She smiled at the man who would kill her, just moments after he was trying to save her, and lay her head back exposing her throat. The doctor carried out his last treatment for his patient. The knife was dealt with a delicate motion and she only felt the slightest tug of pain before she drifted off to a never-ending sleep.

  Above them, on the hillside, that Colburn and his men had stood upon only hours before, lay a poet. Witnessing all that had happened below, tears flowed freely from his eyes as he hummed an old song. A slow, soft song, sad and powerful, and as old as the hills themselves. As he hummed that nameless melody, he put his quill to parchment and wrote of thirteen brave men who had died for brotherhood, and one who would, surely soon, die for love.

  Chapter Seven

  Friends

  Jacob smiled as his opponent lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. Since the fight between himself and Gulkin, four weeks ago, he had taken to combat training with added enthusiasm, much to swordmaster Malick’s pleasure, as it was he who took credit with the king for this absolute change in attitude. Jacob allowed his training partner to retake his position and engaged him. Swinging his sword with a newfound conviction, he hit high, then low, with a speed that betrayed his size and strength. Askia, Jacob’s combatant for today’s session, found himself on the floor once more, due to a heavy blow from Jacob’s shield.

  ‘Aargh!’ Jacob screamed, inventing anger he had not felt truly in four weeks. He was now focused, determined, but he always sought to perform acts of combat without the loss of his temper. He spent hours with Brother Robert most nights, learning how to control his energy forces with exercises and meditation techniques, ensuring he was aware of his emotions, so that even in battle he could feel an inner peace, unlike the bloodlust felt by the soldiers not of the brotherhood, who were trained to release their fury without check. Jacob was being taught how to make conscious decisions and deliver calm, calculated responses. His education with Robert was carried out in secret, without knowledge of any other tutors or even the king.

  Jacob stared down at Askia; his sword point was inches away from the panting young warrior. Askia’s deep brown eyes glared back at Jacob. ‘Yield!’ Jacob bellowed, so loudly that silence fell upon the group of young noblemen and brothers of the order alike, who were training alongside their future king. Askia knocked the point of Jacob’s sword from before his face with the hilt of his own great-sword and rolling with the weight of his strike he put a few feet of distance between himself and Jacob before attempting to come to his feet. Jacob followed his opponent and made to deliver a downward blow, but Askia was skilled, and fast, and used his shield to cover his back as he tried to gain his footing. Jacob’s sword rang out upon his foe’s shield, but Askia crouched low, facing away from the attack, and easily absorbed the strike whilst keeping himself balanced. Askia rose from the crouch, turning fast, fluidly bringing his sword and shield into position. The two warriors circled each other, equally matched in speed, although Askia was the much more experienced, having already completed a tour of the borderlands, but Jacob still had the advantage of superior strength.

  ‘In the name of He who is Great, I shall never yield.’ Askia shouted back, equally as loudly as Jacob’s previous demand. By now everybody in the training hall had stopped to watch. Squire, tutor, brother, and soldier alike, watched excitedly as the contest suddenly erupted into blurs of swinging steel and the clash of sword on shield. Askia advanced, using the point of his sword to push Jacob backwards, and then he broke the simple combinations he was using to perform a difficult but deadly move. He unhooked his shield from his gauntlet with a quick shifting of its weight and pulled back his left arm as if to throw a punch. Jacob sensed what was about to happen but was not quite quick enough to react. Jacob raised his shield to deflect his enemy’s airborne shield from connecting with his face, but Askia had not only expected this reaction, but he had also intended it. As soon as the two shields collided Askia had launched himself into an attack. Unburdened with the weight of his shield. He was now faster on his feet and experience had taught him to press the advantage. Askia bought his sword to bear, swinging in a backstroke, and he spun three hundred and sixty degrees, in a roundhouse motion, throwing the full weight of his body behind his sword. It was an all-or-nothing move. If Askia missed, he would become unbalanced and without a shield; he would be easy prey. Jacob’s shield took most of the impact, but the force of the hurled thick metal shield gave it momentum which only stopped after coming into contact with the front of his helm. He winced with the pain and shock the collision brought. It took a few seconds for him to regain his vision. He took a deep breath and lowered his shield to below his visor. He tried to focus, but his head became swamped in thick fog. He silently wondered why Askia was spinning in a circle, when an excruciating pain erupted at the back of his head. The ringing of Askia’s sword crashing upon the back of his helmet deafened him. He dropped his sword and shield, falling to his knees. He tried to speak but found his mouth would not move. Then he lost consciousness.

  Jacob opened his eyes and saw the cheery red face of Red Rob beaming a smile towards him. ‘How long was I out for?’ Jacob asked, feeling the worse for wear. ‘My stomach feels as if I have not eaten in a week.’

  Robert looked down at the slowly rising form of his friend and laughed a deep rolling laughter that if coming from anyone else would have sounded a sham. ‘My friend, it is good to see you awake, and even better that you have an appetite. You were unconscious for a day and a half; it is now past midnight on the sixth day. You have a concussion, which is a bruising of the brain for the uneducated.’ As Red Rob talked, he prepared a meal of fresh fruit and poured a large jug of fresh water.

  Jacob was now sitting, his head lolled from side to side as if he had spent the night drinking heavily instead of sleeping. Robert became serious as he came to stand before Jacob. ‘Jacob!’ He said sharply. ‘Focus on me, dear boy.’ Jacob raised his eyes but said nothing. He was clearly having trouble remaining awake. ‘Jacob, you must drink this water, do you understand me?’ Robert spoke slowly and deliberately. Jacob smiled as he took the jug with both hands and emptied the contents thirstily. He gave the jug back to the priest, but before Robert could place his grip on the handle, Jacob had already let go, sending it bouncing across the floor. Jacob looked confused, as if he did not understand why the jug had fallen. Then he collapsed again.

  Robert, Father of the priesthood, sat in darkness. Before him, Jacob lay still and silent. Nothing moved in the room, no moonlight shone through the small window in Robert’s chamber, no sound echoed from outside the stone walls. Red Rob sat with his eyes closed and his arms stretched out before him, palms facing towards his young friend. The air crackled all around, popping like green leaves on a roaring fire. Although not visible to the naked eye, waves of energy pulsed from Robert’s hands, travelling the short distance between his hands and Jacob, engulfing his damaged skull. Robert’s mind became linked with Jacob’s, something they had tried before during training and meditation. They often attempted what the fathers in the Order of Light called ‘a joining of the minds’. The practice was close to impossible to perform without both participants having extensive training in the priesthood. But Jacob was special. Since birth, the energies he gave off had been sensed by the most powerful priests, and it was a well-kept secret in the priesthood that Jacob had a major role to play in the destiny of Mankind. But this was also true of Robert. In the normal course of thing
s, the priesthood was a calling, and men would come to one of the small temples of the Order of Light, from miles away to be tested, although only a tiny percentage made it through the first stage of tests. Father Robert was, like Jacob, sensed at birth, and then sought out for a life of service, not to men as such, but rather to humanity. Jacob and Robert were both destined for greatness, and so their friendship was helped along by the hierarchy of the priesthood. Their mental interconnection was strong, and now Robert was using his own energy to heal the bruising to Jacob’s brain.

  It took three hours before Robert was satisfied that the damage would not become permanent. He lit the room, but instead of the candles he used during Gulkin’s amputation, he used a different blend of minerals to create a subtle, soothing shade of red that seemed to warm as well as illuminate the room.

  Jacob stirred on the bed, but still did not awake. Then, without warning, he jumped to his feet and stood as if ready to attack. Wide eyed, he surveyed the room like a trapped animal, looking for any route by which to make its escape.

  ‘Calm yourself, Jacob’, Robert said soothingly. ‘The primitive side of your brain awoke when I performed the joining of our minds. Sit yourself down and I shall prepare you some food.’ Jacob stood panting, teeth snarling like a beast, arms clenched at his side with such force the tendons in his neck bulged from his skin. His eyes, normally blue and full of compassion and love, now burned like flames in the night, boring into Robert’s very soul. Something caused Jacob to snap his head to the side, as if cocking his head to listen but with a painful, fast, jerking motion. He swung his head back to the right in the same wrenching movement, then back to the left before crouching down to the floor and becoming still.

  Robert watched with anticipation. Never had he seen someone become so animalistic, so wild, so feral. Jacob raised his head and returned Red Rob’s giant smile. ‘Welcome back, my friend’, Robert said with a gentle chuckle. ‘You almost had me worried.’

  Before the sun had been in the sky for an hour Jacob had already received four visitors. After Jacob had returned to a state of normality, Robert had fed him, and given him a brief description of what had occurred during the night. Jacob tried to describe the way he had felt after waking in his animal form, but even though he seemed fine Robert instructed him that sleep was needed and so frogmarched him though the castle and sent him to bed, like one would a naughty child. But Jacob could not sleep, something had awoken in him during the mental exercise. A power he had never felt before now lurked just below the surface. An undiluted form of rage, as old as the race from which he was descended. He feared it and feared what he was capable of becoming. But strangely, it also excited him. He had felt a connection with life he had never known before, and every sense in his body became heightened. He could taste the staleness in the air that lingered within the castle walls. He could hear the wind blowing through the forests to the south. He could sense the good energy flowing all around himself and the priest, but outside the chambers he could feel the destructive energy, corrupting and contaminating every life-force it could bend to its will. He had felt more alive in those sixty seconds than he had in his entire life, and now that it was over, he missed it. Craved it. Longed for it.

  The first well-wisher had appeared as the first rays of sunshine broke over the horizon. Askia awoke Jacob from his reverie with a gentle, somewhat shy knock at his bedroom door.

  ‘Enter’, Jacob said.

  Askia opened the door, and it surprised him to find his friend looking so awake and so restless. Jacob stopped pacing and greeted Askia with a warm smile. ‘Ho, Askia’, Jacob called warmly. ‘Should I be wearing a helmet or even two?’ Jacob said in jest, although Askia looked visibly embarrassed. Jacob saw his friend’s discomfort and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.

  ‘Do not worry yourself Askia, you fought well and with honour. There is no need for you to reproach yourself. I would feel grateful to have you by my side in battle, brother.’ Jacob spoke with complete sincerity. Askia’s mood brightened considerably.

  ‘Malick told me I would be lashed by his own hand, in view of the entire castle, if I did not defeat you’, Askia replied. ‘Malick is bitter. His heart only takes pleasure from violence and pain.’

  ‘They share much in common, the swordmaster and the king’, Jacob said. Askia quickly turned and shut the door to the room, checking outside briefly to see if anybody had heard Jacob’s statement.

  ‘You talk too boldly, Jacob. Even though you are heir to the throne you can still make enemies’, Askia whispered, startled by the tone in Jacob’s voice.

  Jacob turned and smiled at Askia. ‘You worry too much, Askia, the brave warrior, shied by idle talk’, Jacob said with a slightly mocking tone to his voice. Askia’s face turned cloudy with anger.

  ‘You hold my loyalty more than any other man of rank, as it is with many young men in the brotherhood. But that will not sway my temper if you disrespect me again, my prince.’ Askia added extra enthusiasm to the last two words.

  Jacob’s face turned serious and the mocking smile vanished. ‘I am sorry. I meant no disrespect; it has been a very strange night. Stay and break your fast with me.’ Jacob opened the door to call for a servant to bring food, and was surprised to see Gulkin, Robert and Askia’s blood brother Holak, standing in front of the doorway seconds away from knocking. Holak though not identical to his twin shared all his personality traits. Both being formidable warriors, both having extremely strict codes of honour and both were loyal to Jacob, seeing him as the future for the kingdom. Holak and Askia were not too different in appearance. They shared the same dark brown eyes, and the same shade of brown hair, but Holak was taller and more bulky than Askia, and his face was slightly rounder due to his fanatical love of all things edible. Jacob stepped aside and let his guests enter his private chambers. Once they had entered, he called for a servant and instructed the young boy to bring food for himself and his four friends.

  ‘Sit. Sit, you’re making the place look untidy’, Jacob joked as he invited them to each take a chair at the large table in the far corner of the room, next to a large open window that blew a refreshing breeze though the silk curtains. They all sat around the table looking at Jacob until Jacob finally broke the silence and asked, ‘Okay, what have I done? You’re gazing at me like Red Rob gazes at the stars.’

  It was Father Robert who responded. ‘How do you feel? Have you slept since our late-night adventures?’ All eyes turned towards Jacob again, making him feel uncomfortable.

  ‘No, I have not slept Father, but I feel fine. In fact, I feel better than I have in a long time. I know you like I know myself Robert. I can sense your concern. Would you care to enlighten me?’ The question was left unanswered as the servant’s knock on the door announced breakfast had arrived. Two servants entered on Jacob’s instruction, carrying enormous platters laden with food. The platters were placed in the centre of the circular table, with a smaller plate placed before each of the diners. Whilst the servants poured a mixture of mild wine and fruit juices into small silver cups, the five men filled their plates with a selection of cold cuts of pork, beef and chicken, cheeses, breads and fresh fruits. The servants left, and the men ate, all except Holak, who was still loading food onto his already full plate.

  Askia turned to his brother and burst into fits of laughter. ‘Do you think the meat will escape if you do not imprison it on your plate? My brother, it has been caught, killed and cooked; it cannot leave the table.’ The group chuckled at Holak’s embarrassment, then they turned to Robert, all eyes waiting for the answer he failed to give earlier. The heavy-set priest chewed on a slice of beef, swallowed, then washed it down with a large gulp of fruit juice mixed with a light wine. As he swallowed the morning drink commonly known as mallow, Red Rob looked from face to face, taking time to make eye contact with each of the men he was about to address. ‘Gentlemen’, he started, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘We at this table are all friends, we all share the same morals, an
d above all we shall all support Jacob, without question. Am I right to presume this?’ There was a slight murmur of agreement that ran from person to person, all except Jacob, who sat in silence listening intently upon every word as Brother Robert continued. ‘Last night Jacob became what he despises most in men. He lost every part of his humanity. All his legendary love and compassion vanished without a trace. He became an animal, all instinct and rage, and I am concerned because he enjoyed it.’ Robert said the last sentence with his eyes locked with Jacob’s. Askia, Holak and Gulkin sat dumbstruck, exchanging puzzled expressions.

  It was Gulkin who spoke first. ‘Father, you speak in metaphors, we humble brothers do not understand such ways of communicating.’

  Robert turned and addressed him. ‘Last night, Jacob awoke. I was pleased at first, but I soon realised that his brain was much more damaged than I suspected. I think it would have healed unaided, in time, but I decided to join our minds. This way I could assess the injury extensively and mend the problem with my own positive energy.’

  Robert was interrupted by Gulkin. ‘Father, forgive me, but I thought only priests, through training, could join minds.’

  Robert shook his head and replied, ‘No, mine and Jacob’s bond is strong, and we have come close to performing a joining many times. He was unconscious, so the task was fairly straightforward. It took about three hours to complete the healing process, but something else happened without my knowledge. A dormant part of Jacob was stirred, and I felt in him a power I have never sensed before.’ The room was silent. Every set of eyes were firmly set upon Jacob’s gentle face.

  Finally, Jacob broke the silence. ‘Will it happen again? I mean, could it happen again?’ Jacob looked excited at the prospect, even keen, but Robert seemed startled. The three warriors sat in silence, only Holak continued eating. All three were having trouble understanding what they were witnessing.