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

by Aiden L Turner

  Robert looked seriously at Wilhelm for a moment, then his smile returned, and he stated the facts he knew. ‘He has forsaken his oath, no matter the honourable reasons that are claimed. He is removed from the brotherhood of men-at-arms. His life is forfeited but not taken, and he resides in the same castle as you will when you are oath-sworn to Jacob. He serves the king and the king only and has renounced all ties of kinship or friendship. Those with loose lips call him the king’s pet. Now there are two of your brothers waiting and after you two are loaded upon my wagons, there is still another, who happens to be waiting at the furthermost eastern fortress, Shield Wall. So please, Wilhelm, stop acting like a fucking child whose mother’s tit has run dry and prepare to serve the kingdom as you are oath-bound to do!’

  Jacob fidgeted uncomfortably as he sat in the great council room. Every lord of note had been summoned, from north and south they had come at their king’s behest. A single message had been heard throughout the kingdom that read, ‘My Lord, you are summoned, and shall attend me no later than the next full moon. By order of your king.’

  So sat the eight great lords of the land, waiting upon their king’s presence as they sat in silence and trepidation. They dared not ask their fellow lords to provide details of the summoning, lest they be found to be the only one ignorant. So they continued to sit, in silence All retainers, whether kin or closest adviser, had been denied entrance to the great council chamber, so they sat upon the single long bench, arrayed before a raised platform, on which sat a grand throne of white marble, in imitation of the great throne upon the roof of the castle. Only Godwin sat comfortably, having partial knowledge of the king’s grand plans. The other lords awkwardly studied the maps, banners and portraits that covered the bare brick walls.

  ‘My lords’, the king stated happily, causing all in the room to rise and turn before offering a deep bow and replying in one voice.

  ‘My king.’

  ‘I have summoned you all here today, for you will be the foundation upon which the greatest quest in the history of this kingdom is built. You will have no doubt noticed my recovery from a premature ageing and failing health’, Kane said as he made his way before the four great lords of the north and the four great lords of the south. From left to right he in turn greeted each of his sworn vessels before reaching Jacob, placing each of his hands upon Jacob’s bulking shoulders he said, ‘And you, my nephew, my heir, I have granted you the greatest of gifts: the opportunity to prove your worthiness to rule upon my death. Although, He who is Greatest of them all, may yet grant me a son of my own blood.’ He added the last with tones of suspicion, as though he feared to lose his crown even after death had taken him.

  He mounted the steps to the platform yet remained standing as he continued to address the group. ‘He who is Greatest of them all has touched me. He has sent forth his strength and chosen me.’ He spoke with excitement and much gesturing. ‘Chosen me to be King of Kings. He speaks to me nightly with his instruction and blessing, and we are to do His bidding. All of you in this room are sworn to me and now the time is near when you shall fulfil those oaths of fealty.’ The king pointed to a large table in the corner of the room and beckoned the lords of the kingdom to follow him.

  The table, ten feet to a side and a perfect square, was covered with the most detailed of maps, showing the kingdom both north and south, the jungles to the north of the kingdom and beyond. For the first time, the lords of the kingdom were being shown a world beyond the borders they had known.

  The lords stood awed by the intricate map before them. Each of them studied it with amazement. In silence they stood whilst Kane stood as proud as a father would a son at his creation. ‘This shows my own land borders as well as my own maps, it’s incredible. My Lord King, these gaps in the jungles they are clearings? Encampments? Settlements?’

  ‘They are towns of sorts, as close to towns as the heathen has in any order. Each is in the territory of different clans, who make war upon each other even more than they make upon us.’

  Lord Armine, the least powerful of the four great southern lords, foolishly interrupted the king. ‘This place to the north of the jungles, I have heard tales of this desert. There could be no life there. It is endless and so it is named as such.’

  The king turned his fury upon the young lord, like a volcano that lay dormant. His rage was unpredictable and always ready to spew fire and brimstone without preamble or pre-warning. ‘Do you doubt my word? You toad of a man! You dare doubt the word of He who is Greatest? You dare doubt the word of his representative upon this world? Guards!’ He screamed the last towards the closed doors and all, but Jacob and Kane, visibly shrank back as Colburn burst through the doors. Sword drawn. Eagerness to slaughter clear upon his face. Eyes lusting for blood, he stood, his body shaking slightly as adrenaline surged through his blood. Two guards stood behind him as Colburn’s, cold eyes searched the room for enemies. King Kane, known throughout the kingdom he ruled as Kane the Cruel, pointed a finger into the face of the terrified Lord Armine and screamed in a high-pitched angry wail, ‘Colburn, you will seize this man and place him in chains to await my pleasure.’

  Colburn’s size loomed over the young noble as he took him roughly with one hand at the back of Armine’s neck and dragged him from the room, as the panic-stricken lord alternated between apologising and begging for mercy. The king laughed, a shrill laugh devoid of humour. It spoke volumes to the lords gathered of his insanity, his power and the cost of his displeasure.

  ‘Do not speak to Colburn of mercy, my lord. And me? Meh, they call me Kane the Cruel, do they not?’ The doors were closed again, and the hall went silent. The lords stared at the floor, heads bowed. Only Jacob stood firm. Kane looked upon the lords and made a decree. ‘If any man, lord or peasant, tradesman or master, solider or slave questions my words, they are both blasphemer and traitor and will be dealt with accordingly. Am I fully understood?’

  The assembled lords acknowledged their obedience enthusiastically and Kane’s demeanour turned back to one of reason and control, yet all present knew the truth: their king would destroy them without hesitation at the slightest hint of disobedience or disagreement. Kane turned his attention back to the map as if nothing had occurred and pointed to the area marked in the middle of the Never Ending desert. Grinning broadly, he said, ‘This is the prize of all prizes. It will be hard won but have faith, my loyal friends, it is God-given. We shall gather the largest army, the largest fleet, and go on the longest voyage ever known in the history of Man.’

  All remained silent, staring intently at the indicated area, marked roughly the same distance from the northern edge of the jungle, as the castle they stood in was from the southern jungle borders.

  ‘And the people who live in this prize, my king, what is known of them?’ asked Jacob respectfully.

  ‘Ah, my nephew, they are a most villainous creature indeed. Driven from the jungles by the Orc and their servants the Goblin. Too despicable even for the filth that plague our lands.’ The king spat with venom. ‘Left to wander and bake to death under God’s merciless sun. But some survived and found a sanctuary in caves under the sands. There they bred and expanded their newfound home. Their evil hearts brew contempt and hatred for the peace of God-loving men. They grow like weeds unchecked in a garden till the day comes when they will spill forth and choke all beauty from our God-given and blessed land. But fear not, for we have been given the honour of smiting these wicked abominations, and as reward we shall take a horde of treasure unlike any other. Gold, piled to the height of the great oaks, jewels the size of a fist.’ The king clenched his right hand into a fist before his face. ‘This fist! The fist we shall bring down upon the heads of these wretched creatures.’ For emphasis, the king slammed his fist down upon the area all the men were staring at in excitement, trepidation, greed and fear.

  The king continued. ‘My Lords Beringer and Otelin, you shall return to the south and have your shipwrights draw plans for a new fleet. My Lord Audemar, y
ou shall return to the great southern forests and supply the vast amount of lumber we shall need.’ The king became animated, spittle flew from his mouth as he continued, ‘We must have war ships to carry men to extinguish these vermin, but also cargo ships. They must have holds that can carry great quantities of water, for our men must not weaken. They must retain the strength to carry this great treasure back to me.’ The king slyly smiled and added, ‘Back to us.’

  The lords gathered saw the newfound power in their king’s eyes, and the youth and vigour returned to his body. Gone was the sickly man they had known and, in his place, stood a man with an aura of God-given power. They were under the spell of greed, and not one amongst them now doubted their king’s conviction or righteousness.

  ‘And of myself, my Lord King? And your servant lords from the North, how would you have us serve?’ Godwin asked eagerly.

  ‘You will purge this kingdom of the sinners and wanton.’ The king’s voice was devoid of compassion. ‘The weak shall be made strong and with that new strength they shall pull the oars under which this noble quest of God shall move.’ The king took Godwin gently by the arm and spoke softly as one might to a child, ‘Do not spare the lash on the sinners of our land. If some must die so the rest become strong and Godly, then so be it.’ He looked to each of the lords, cold fury burning from his eyes whilst he smiled friendlily and said, ‘Be gone. In God’s blessing and my grace go about His work, but know this my lords, and do not for one instance forget, to fail is your death and destruction.’

  With that the assembled lords of the kingdom bowed their heads and left in silence, leaving the king alone with Jacob who had stood quietly, with a mask of indifference upon his face. ‘And of me uncle, surely I am not summoned to attend this council to only observe? What would you have of me?’

  ‘You, blood of my blood, heir to my throne and kingdom, you will lead in my place and in my name.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Knowledge

  Cameos lay in his bed restlessly. The population was troubled, and the signs were everywhere and deeply disturbing, and yet Cameos thought it only natural and right that good honest elves were troubled by the events of the last few days. Never, to his knowledge, had a member of the Elven council been put to death, let alone three members including the leader. Cameos had not slept for days, and the Mother had not come to him whilst with awakened eyes. The ancient scripts had been retrieved and when in Cameos’ possession, the execution had begun. The procession that he led walked in silence and only formal words had been spoken whilst Cameos himself staked the three condemned to the ground. Suleka went to his bonds in dignified silence whilst Trake, and Trugher, wept openly and begged for mercy. Their cries awoke a feeling of resistance in the Elders’ supporters, but none dared risk laying down next to their former masters, and the warriors standing next to the chieftain were ever watchful. Thakern, eyed all who had not stood beside him and Cameos in the great chamber with open suspicion.

  Cameos rolled once more in his bed, adjusting his position to try to get comfortable, yet he could not shift the doubt that was sown into his mind. Was his father looking down on him with disgust, disappointment and regret. More elves that had attended the confrontation between the chieftain and the Elder had remained inside rather than go to witness the sentence being carried out, and what disturbed Cameos, was that Macik was amongst those who did not journey to see justice upon the traitors carried out.

  He had the scriptures of his ancestors, and with them hope, but the price had been great. He had never intended for anyone but his enemies, the brothers Trake and Trugher, and their misguided and fanatical followers to get hurt, yet they had lost the eldest of their kind. And with the loss, the people had lost some faith in the event being justice, and some now saw it as Cameos securing power. But he still had the scriptures, and with them hope, he told himself yet again.

  He thought back to when he first held them in his hands; he felt power within them, and with them he felt power within himself. The time for doubt was over. He had spent the day and the night mourning the loss of Suleka. Now was the time to study the texts that had cost the Elven folk so much.

  He stood quietly, so as not to disturb Releaka, dressed and left his chambers. He walked quickly, excitedly, and also afraid of what he would find. He was excited at finding what had been hidden so long from his people and afraid of why the Elder deemed it necessary to keep it hidden. Yet he knew in his heart that this was the start of the pathway to the longevity of the race of Elves.

  Cameos, chief of the elves arrived at the chambers where he dispensed justice, pronounced law and met his race’s day-to-day needs. The two guards he had posted at the chamber’s door were silent, watchful and vigilant. As he approached, they stood aside for their chieftain and offered him slight bows of their heads as signs of respect and courtesy.

  Cameos entered the chambers of his office and closed the doors behind him. He went to his great desk and sat down before it upon a large chair padded with cushions and gently stroked the tome before him. Bound in materials he had never seen, he once again felt power, natural and beautiful power, radiating from the book. He opened the book slowly and turned to the first page.

  Written on a material not unlike dried skin were three words written in bold, large, blood-red letters. BEFORE. DURING. AFTER. Cameos turned the next page. It read.

  This is a history and foretelling of the race of Elves. It is not complete, for I am not all knowing. Yet knowledge has been given to me. Whence it came I do not know. As you read these words know this, I am neither of your time or a time before or after you. I am neither Man, Elf nor Orc, Dwarf, Goblin, Dragon nor Ogre. I am neither beast nor God. I am neither good nor evil. I am both as distant from you as the furthest star and yet as close to you as your shadow.

  On your world there was once a peace that existed between the three strongest races. Man, Orc and Elf, lived side by side upon the great plains, and evil was not even seen in nightmares. Yet evil came. It came and was fought by the unity of the races. After evil was banished the great peace failed. Man became greedy and took the lands the free peoples held. The Orc and lesser Orc known as the Goblin were pushed into the great forests where their hearts turned black as soot, and their race declined into corruption. Soon, all the beasts that flew, crawled or ran between the trees, and even the trees themselves, became poisoned by the betrayed Orc. All who lived in those forests became dark and malignant, choosing to become less than they were. Primitive. Foul.

  The Elves tried to make peace with Man, but Man refused to hear. Their God had come to them and no more would they live with worshippers of false Gods. They drove the Elf out. Tens of thousands fled the swords of Man into the dark domain of the Orc, yet there they were unwelcome. The Orc would have no more alliance with creatures of light and reason. Once more they fled, always pursued. Many died at the hands of the creatures of the jungle. The Orc would spare neither female nor child, yet the Elves persevered. Onwards to the North they continued until they left the borders of the Orcs’ new homeland.

  Into desert and death, they had come. Only a tenth of what they once were, yet still they had faith in the Mother and faith was rewarded. On the march ever northward, following the greatest star in the sky, the Elves finally arrived at a great entrance to an underground sanctuary. The Elven race was home.

  Cameos seethed with rage. So, there was once a time before the Elves lived in the ground, only daring to surface at night. And in that time, they had been betrayed, driven from lands where they had once lived. Cameos forced himself to calm. This was not the time for anger. This was the time to learn, anger would come later. He turned the next page and his mind struggled to comprehend what he saw. Under the bold heading, DURING, lay no words for him to read, only bare parchment yellowed with age. He turned again to a page with the heading AFTER and read the writing.

  The elves abandoned their newfound home. They returned. And with the knowledge granted them, they brought justice d
own upon their betrayers. Through great tunnels they burrowed. Many hardships did they face. Yet triumph did the Elven race do. Back to the light. Back into the Mother’s warm embrace.

  Cameos sat in silence, thoughtfully meditating upon the words he had read. So, they had been betrayed by others not of their kind, driven from their ancestral land. Yet the Mother had shown them mercy and bestowed upon them a sanctuary. But now was the time for the people to return. He turned the page and saw instructions he did not fully understand. He saw it was for the forging of metals, but unlike anything the elves had to his knowledge ever forged. Again, he turned and more instruction. This page dedicated to building fires hotter than anything needed to cook, fires hot enough to melt strange metals. Again, he turned and saw strange weapons of war, bows that shot arrows as fast as the eye could see, and long swords that shone.

  Their kind had tools made from hardened wood, simple iron, and animal bones. And he knew the Orc, and their foul servants, had knives, axes and bows, but they were crude compared to what he saw in the drawings and texts he now studied. Again and again, he turned pages to discover detailed instructions and intricate diagrams of such things his mind could not fathom. Yet he knew one thing, as sure as he heard the Mothers song singing to his spirit, as he held the ancient book and read from the words: these were not new ways for the Elven to learn, but rather they were the ways they had forgotten. And they were the ways that would take them back and punish those who had caused affront to his people.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Taken

  Jacob rode his magnificent stallion with the ease of one riding since early childhood. The horse, Frostbite, was so named for his stunning coat, a white that shone as if dirt or muck could find no grip. When the sun caught the animal at just the right angle, he appeared the slightest shade of blue like ice floating upon a calm, blue lake. The young prince looked every part the heir, regal and strong whilst he calmly surveyed the small town he rode through, blessing its inhabitants with his warm and friendly smile.