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

by Aiden L Turner

  ‘I am power!’ the Orc roared.

  ‘In the beginning there was but one. In the end there will be but one. And in His name do we live as one.’ Gymir shouted the words. His brothers behind him joined the irrevocable act of defiance. They ran behind their brother as Gymir took battle to the enemy’s servant. He threw his shield with a strength he no longer possessed. The Orc king struck the shield with his flaming sword. The runes on the shield flared into bright light for an instant before the sword of an evil power ripped through the shield and the two pieces fell to the ground, ragged and smoking. But the thrown shield had caused the opening Gymir had intended. He ducked low and as he took the last step, he leapt up with the strength of his entire being. His sword thrust was perfect, his arm steady and fast. And with an echo of laughter, the Orc king swatted the blade away with his open hand and brought his own sword downwards in a sweeping motion.

  And so, fell Gymir, son of the Brotherhood of the Order of Light. His head dropped to the ground beside his twitching corpse. Vacant, lifeless eyes, wide open as the King of the Orc slaughtered the remnants of his brotherhood.

  Jacob leapt from the cave, Caleak scrambling to get out of his way. Brondolf at his right, Colburn at his left, and the brothers only a step behind. They fell on the Orc force with fury unleashed. After weeks of hardship they now had an enemy they could understand, fight and destroy. Jacob moved amongst the enemy with the speed of cat and the deadliness of a sparrowhawk. Where he moved an enemy died. He moved and struck. Possessed by an unseen force.

  In short order, the enemy surrounding Elysabeth and her companion was destroyed utterly, and Jacob was drenched in his foe’s blood. He ran to Elysabeth, overcome with emotion. Relief, surprise, gratitude, hope, ran through his body and he wept for joy as he took her in his arms and spun her round. She laughed and hugged him fiercely. Only a moment before she had seen death reaching for her; now she was in the arms of one whom she loved without limit.

  Wilhelm and Zachary talked with Brondolf and shared the news of Askia and Holak’s demise. Wilhelm stiffened visibly and drew once more his sword as the Elven refugees came from out of the caves, Caleak walking at their head, an enormous smile on his face.

  ‘Stay your blade, Wilhelm’, Brondolf said. ‘They are friends.’

  ‘Their kind have attacked Sprettaman’, Wilhelm replied.

  ‘And those that live in that accursed castle are friends?’ Colburn spoke, looking proudly at Wilhelm, the first sign of any recognition between Colburn and his brother’s son since Colburn’s fall from the brotherhood and into the service of the king.

  ‘No, I would not count them friend, but I saw with my own eyes the butchery committed by this heathen folk.’ He looked angrily at the elves. Fatigue and days of fleeing had left his temper worn, and his perception fraught with hostility.

  Caleak walked calmly to Wilhelm. ‘Need you of such a large sword to confront a mere boy.’ The boy’s tone was friendly, yet Wilhelm saw something beyond his peaceful tone.

  ‘My sword serves the light wherever it must’, Wilhelm said in guarded tones.

  ‘Then you have no need of it now, friend Wilhelm, for we serve the same master’, Caleak replied.

  Jacob had finally put Elysabeth down and looked to Wilhelm. ‘Wilhelm, my brother, we have much to speak of but save your anger for the enemy, these here are friends.’

  Jacob looked back to Elysabeth and for the first time noticed behind her anchored a mile offshore was a ship to dwarf any ship he had ever seen. The ship, from deck to the water, was the height of a three-storey building. It was three masted and dotted with dozens of portholes in its hull. Jacob also noticed four smaller vessels being rowed towards the beach from the gigantic ship.

  ‘She is a thing of beauty, is she not?’

  Jacob turned to see Father Robert standing before him and anger replaced the joy he had found from seeing his beloved.

  ‘You!’ Jacob said, his voice filled with menace, his finger pointing at Robert. ‘You told me it was my duty to go on the king’s quest. I even killed to keep in the king’s good graces. And why? To watch men die needlessly? To be absent from those who needed my protection? To allow Sprettaman to fall? To stop me from standing with the brotherhood in their greatest need? Why?’ Jacob screamed the last, his face reddened with the heat of his anger.

  ‘For the boy’, Robert said simply, putting a hand on Caleak’s head and ruffling his hair. Caleak looked at Jacob with a smile that told Jacob that Caleak was well aware.

  ‘Explain yourself’, Jacob replied curtly, though the heat of his words had cooled.

  ‘He is the Lord of Light’, Robert said, looking at the child with a warm smile. Caleak returned the smile and looked incredibly proud.

  Jacob, anger now forgotten, looked utterly confused. ‘No, Rob, you said the rise of a Dark Lord beget the rise of a Lord of Light, to give balance to the universe.’

  ‘I did say that my boy and I led you to believe that you were in fact the Lord of Light. But alas, it is my shame to tell you I manipulated you. You are pure of heart, my boy, and I am filled with pride at the man you have become. I needed you to protect the Lord of Light and take him from this place. You are to be the boy’s guardian. And in times to come his sword.’ Robert looked saddened, but his voice found resolve and his tone became authoritative once more.

  ‘You will take Caleak aboard the ship Ever West, along with his kin and the remaining brothers. Let your heart guide you, for in its warmth is the voice of He who is Greatest of them all.’

  Jacob looked back to the sea and saw the four longboats being held where the water met the land. He looked back landward as a commotion drew his gaze. Orcs, great in number, ran towards them. Over the fields and through the woods the horde advanced.

  ‘The north has fallen’, Robert said in a voice loud enough for all to hear. ‘The time to leave this land has come but take heart, my brothers, you will return.’ Robert was walking amongst the men-at-arms, his axe held loosely in his hand as he ushered the brothers of the order towards the boats.

  Caleak spoke to his mother and the Elven folk boarded the boats in silence, though many had tears upon their cheeks.

  ‘Go with them, now, servants of the light, for your work is not yet complete. There is service He who is Greatest yet demands. Go now, my brothers.’ Robert gave blessings and praise as he led them towards the boats.

  Jacob caught Robert’s arm and pulled him close. ‘Must we really flee? What of the people here?’

  ‘They will endure until your return.’

  ‘I do not understand’, Jacob said, shaking his head. He watched the Orcs draw closer and his body twitched as his blood lusted for battle.

  ‘I know. You are a fine warrior, blessed with the ability to kill and the desire to save. You have been granted power from He who gives power, yet it is the power of his rightful king. Nothing more’, Robert said.

  ‘You have much to explain, Red Rob, but for all your manipulation I struggle to believe you would have acted without cause. Come, let us take this great ship and you can tell of all’, Jacob said smiling again.

  ‘I cannot. I must stay in this land that is torn between the forces of good and evil, for I have done one willingly in the other’s name’, Robert said, though his grave words were said through a smile.

  ‘I shall stay by your side, Father’, Colburn said as he drew his sword and turned towards the enemy. ‘For I too have much to atone for.’

  Jacob began to speak, but Robert interrupted. ‘This axe once belonged to Father Ademond, the first warrior of our order. It was he who commissioned the building of Iron Guard and he was known as the “Bane of Darkness”.’

  Jacob looked upon the crudely made axe head, long rusted with age, and its simple wooden heft. ‘It does not look like a weapon of power’, Jacob said. The knowledge of parting with his friend saddened him.

  Red Rob burst into a deep chuckle and struck Jacob playfully on his shoulder. ‘No, my boy, it does not. He
used it to chop wood.’

  With that Robert ran towards the bands of Orc, his red hair billowing backwards as he faced death laughing. Colburn hurried to join him as Elysabeth gently pulled Jacob to the boat. They boarded in silence; grief stricken. Jacob refused to look back. Instead he fixed his eyes on the horizon as the longboat lifted upon the waves and tears ran freely and unashamedly down his face.

  The end.

  Epilogue

  Two figures lay hidden in the trees, filthy with the mud they had slept upon for the last week or more. They were fatigued and bloodied yet felt blessed to be alive. They looked down upon the king’s highway, from the small copse of trees that hid them, and felt pity for the refugees that shambled southwards.

  ‘It is a wonder so many still yet live’, the taller man said. He had the build of a warrior, and his bandaged wounds were a testimony to how often he had used his skills these last days.

  ‘Many lives were given freely so that those poor wretches might’, the second figure replied. He was much shorter than the warrior and had the softness of one not used to heavy work or strenuous activity.

  The first figure growled deep and low and raised his hand towards a distant rise. A small band of Goblin made their way towards the refugees, who panicked at the sight of the great enemy of Man. Men amongst the group hurried their women and children along as they brandished farm tools and prepared to fight.

  Red Rob rose from behind the brush and hefted his ancient axe. ‘Once more into death’s icy grip then, friend’, he said as he flexed his muscles and tried to force some warmth into his aching joints. ‘I should have been a warrior.’ He spoke casually and cheerfully as he swung his axe in loose arcs. ‘I find I rather have a knack for it.’

  Colburn likewise stood, drawing his sword as he looked at his companion fondly. ‘You certainly have the spirit.’ He looked the priest over appraisingly, then added with warmth and in jest. ‘Even if the physique is lacking.’

  Red Rob, father of the Order of Light and now self-professed warrior, looked at Colburn as if he would say something dreadfully witty, then turned suddenly and ran towards the enemy. Swinging his axe as he ran, he turned his head slightly and bellowed over his shoulder. ‘I am Red Rob, Bane of Darkness, and I shall best you yet, Knight-captain.’

  Colburn ran past the overexerted priest; his sword caught the sunlight, and he felt joy once more. A sense of purpose and completeness filled him, and he felt connected with his God once more. He was once again a brother of the Order of Light. His recompense for his sin: a lifelong pledge to take up his sword and fight for those in need. And those in need were many, for the vast horde of Darkness had taken the northern defence of Man, and though content to destroy the lush farmsteads of the north, they would soon begin their march southward and to their ultimate goal, the complete destruction of Man.

  Colburn slowed his run as he came upon the rear of the line of farmers and tradesmen who stood in a rough line across the roadway. Around thirty of them, bravely awaited the death that was surely coming to greet them as the band of an equal number of Goblins bore down upon them. Pitchforks, reaping hooks and axes were gripped in hands of demoralised and weakened men; many of them lacked any great will to live after enduring tragic loss.

  The Goblin band, only a hundred yards away, slowed their advance slightly as Colburn pushed his way through the line of villagers. Here was a foe they knew well. A brother of the Order of Light. A warrior born, tested and feared.

  Red Rob joined Colburn then turned to address the villagers behind him, ‘I am truly honoured to fight beside you this day.’ He looked to each one in turn. ‘Do not fear. For we are children of He who is Greatest of them all. It is His work we do this day. It shall be his victory!’ Father Robert bellowed as he brandished his weapon.

  ‘They are but the forward elements’, Colburn said. Other figures could be seen in the distance, drawn by the sound of the Goblins.

  ‘Then we are the few who stand before the Darkness, Knight-captain’, Robert replied.

  Colburn nodded. ‘Kill them all!’ He ran towards the Goblins, his mighty legs propelling him forward. His sword sang. He slaughtered with skill unparalleled.

  As hundreds more Goblins, led by Orc, came pouring upon the battlefield, arrows flew above Colburn’s head. The arrows dropped from the heavens and as they struck the enemy, it was as if a giant hand had grabbed the creatures of Darkness from behind and pulled them back, slamming them to the ground.

  Colburn stood amazed as a new brightness seemed to settle upon the battlefield. The clouded sky cleared, and the sunlight bathed the men in hope as the darkness diminished in the presence of the light.

  Lord Audemar steadied his weight upon the long ash shaft of the banner of the Broken Orc as he watched his remaining bowmen wreak havoc upon the enemy. On a small hill, slightly to the west and south of the road, his gaze fell upon a brother of the order, who in turn gazed upon Audemar with wonder. The lord stood straighter, forgetting the great pain from his grievous wounds. He found strength in the bravery of those villagers who faced a terrifying foe yet stood in the hope of allowing others to escape.

  From the field of battle, Colburn looked upon the hillside and the man who stood upon it. The man held a long ash shaft in his hands upon which was the severed head of a greater Orc. The man waved the severed head upon its pole as if it were a banner. And he roared a battle cry. A cry that was soon taken up by hundreds.

  Then they came down the hillside. Roaring. Baying for blood and revenge. Hundreds of men. Villagers with farming tools. Soldiers with swords. Noblemen in fine armour and proud sigils. And Colburn wept openly and without shame. Tears of joy. For amongst them were men-at-arms of the Order of Light, and his brotherhood yet lived to fight on.

  About The Author

  Aiden L Turner

  Aiden L Turner is an English born writter who now lives in the Netherlands.

  I really hope you enjoyed the novel. If you have any comments or questions please reach out to me.

  Please find me on facebook at Aiden L Turner or follow my facebook page The Banner of the Broken Orc.

  Please visit my website, aidenlturner.com and don't forget to hit subscribe and add your email to be kept up to date on offers, blogs and new release dates.