Chapter 1 The Band of the Hawk

This is the first chapter I've done so please let me know what you think

 

Chapter 1

Band of the Hawk

     The great wooden doors splintered as the battering ram hit them once more. Soldiers in full armor swarmed through what was left of the doors and massed in the courtyard. “Off with the General’s head! Win as much reward as you could ever want! Charge!” yelled a man from his horse. He was dressed in finer armor than the rest of the men as well as being considerably fatter. He had a well kept moustache that was visible through his open helmet. The men around him began to surge forward with renewed vigor. Suddenly one man cried out and fell down with a wound to the chest swiftly followed by two more men, one of whom had lost his head. When the surrounding soldiers looked to see who had killed these men they saw a beastly man in full armor that only left his eyes uncovered. He wielded a huge axe that could easily cleave a horse and rider in two. He stepped forward his axe still dripping with fresh blood on its blade. “Ha, ha, ha, ha is this all?” He laughed deeply. “It’s Bazuso!” said one of the soldiers taking a step back. “The grey knight Bazuso?” asked another following suit. “As long as I stand here none shall pass! Who else wants to feel the blade of my axe?” shouted Bazuso heaving his axe onto his shoulder. “That’s Bazuso also known as the thirty man slayer.” murmured one of the soldiers. “He’s also known as the bear slaughterer.” whispered another. “Quit your dawdling and kill him so you can collect the bounty!”stammered the fat nobleman from his horse. “He’s talking nonsense.” “He isn’t paying that much.”  “Why don’t you do it yourself?” Suddenly a young man began to walk towards Bazuso. The only armor he had was a pauldron on his left shoulder, leather vambraces on his arms and a helmet that went down the bridge of his nose and then split toward each ear forming an open visor. He was of average height and build but he had a determined and almost murderous look in his eyes. But the overwhelming fact of his appearance was his sword he had slung across his back. It was nearly 6 ft in length and its handle was wrapped in bandages which tied the sword to his right hand’s wrist.

“Who is that?” “He’s just a kid” “Look at that sword!” “Does that runt actually think he’s gonna swing that thing around?” “It’s just for looks he’s gonna be slaughtered!” “He has no experience”

     “Ha, ha, ha, ha! Hey kid do you really want to fight with me?” bellowed Bazuso. “I see you’ve got guts but you’re gonna regret it when I chop you’re head off with my axe! Either way it’s pathetic that a kid like you is permitted to fight on the battlefield. There seems to be a shortage of soldiers in your army! Or are all the men cowards?” At this the young man charged at Bazuso drawing his sword and began beating Bazuso back. Bazuso was large but he could only just barely block the strikes from the young man’s mammoth blade.  “What speed!” remarked one of the soldiers seeing how fast the young man was able to swing his sword despite its sheer size. “He’s dominating him.” stated another. Suddenly Bazuso stepped back and raised his axe to cleave the man in two but the young man was swinging his sword again to strike Bazuso once more. Their weapons clashed emitting sparks but the strength of his blow caused the young man’s blade to cut into Bazuso’s axe. Once more they swung their weapons, each hoping to strike the other down, but when Bazuso struck the young man’s helmet his axe shattered and knocked off his helmet, while the young man’s sword dealt a mortal wound to Bazuso’s side. At this all the soldier’s where amazed.  Bazuso fell to his knees blood spraying from his side. “Mercy!” he cried out as the young man raised his massive blade over his head to deliver a final blow, but his plea fell upon deaf ears and his head and helm alike where cloven in two. The young man hefted his bloodied sword onto his shoulder panting. His face was shown to everyone to be that of a 17 year old boy his hair was short, black, and messy. The only distinguishing feature was a scar that stretched across the bridge of his nose. “Now seize the castle. All of you, Charge!” cried the fat nobleman still taken aback from this turn of events.

     Little did any of the men below realize that the battle between the young man and Bazuso was being observed from a battlement along the castle wall.  There were four men one of whom wore white armor and his helmet formed a hawk-like beak covering his face. He wore a red beherit around his neck and was holding it while staring intently at the young man. “Didn’t realize our opponents had anyone like that, he must be some kind of mercenary.” Stated one of the men. “Wondering which one of you is stronger?” asked another one of the men noticing the man in the white armor staring intently at the young man. “Don’t be ridiculous!” the first man replied “He’s no match for our leader. Right Griffith?” “Evacuate this fort.” Griffith stated still clasping his necklace, his voice smooth and calm. “Alright, we had a good run. Three months isn’t bad when no one thought we would even last three days.” “And we helped the fief lord escape.” Added the first man. “Yeah we gave them their money’s worth” the third man chimed in.

     A few hours later all the soldiers of the invading army  had assembled in front of the ruined gates gathering their money for their services. The young man was holding a large purse that held several gold coins he was taking them out and counting as well as occasionally testing one or two. Then the nobleman came up to him and gave him another slightly smaller pouch full of even more gold coins. “Here’s your reward. Go ahead check the amount. You impressed me today. Even if it was a fluke. Imagine a fledgling like you defeating Bazuso, well it’s truly unbelievable.” The young man seemed to pay the nobleman no heed and continued counting his gold. “Young man would you consider serving me on a regular basis? Your salary could one day be tripled, and I could even promote  you to a  ranked warrior if you’d like. Don’t you think that’s a deal a mere mercenary could never resist?” At this the young man tied the bags of gold to his belt and turned to leave. “Our contract expired today didn’t it?” asked the young man his voice gruff and deep. “Seems the fighting is over around here.” He remarked walking away. The nobleman followed still trying to convince him to stay, “Wait a minute I could secure your position and income as well. You won’t need to put yourself in danger as a grunt during this war.” While saying this, the nobleman had grabbed hold of the young man’s arm. Upon noticing this, the young man turned around and ripped his arm out of the nobleman’s grasp “Don’t touch me!” he yelled causing the nobleman to stumble back surprised by his sudden outburst. “Don’t you ever touch me!” the young man scowled turning his back and walking away.

     A little while later the young man was walking down the road and admired the scenery.  It was a vast rolling countryside with a few boulders scattered around. The wind was blowing gently and the grass swayed. The sky above him was clear and blue with a few clouds gliding by. Meanwhile just over one of the hills were the soldiers that had been guarding the castle he just helped defeat. A sentry noticing the young man  was approaching  called his companions “Hey someone’s coming!” One man came over and replied “What? Let me see.” “Isn’t that the guy that just killed Bazuso?” “What’s he doing around here?” “Should we go get him? I mean he was our opponent.” “Doesn’t matter the jobs done.” Hearing this, another man strode cockily over and draped his arms over the two men “But then again I’m sure his coin purse runneth over. You know he got plenty of money for defeating Bazuso. Griffith, mind if we get him?” he shouted over to the now armor stripped man who was lying down on the ground. His frame was similar to that of the young man except he had long flowing white hair. Seeming to have no interest in the matter Griffith replied “Do as you please.” At this the man grinned and called out “Alright you guys come with me!” Seeing this, a woman who was sitting on a fallen log chuckled. She had short dark hair and was wearing a breast plate over a dark brown shirt and brown breeches. Her boots came up to her thigh and around her waist was slung a one handed sword.“What is it? What are you laughing about Casca?” asked the man clearly annoyed. “You don’t really think you’ll beat him?” Casca asked sarcastically. “That’s what you say, but I’m the one who was supposed to defeat Bazuso and become famous. I won’t be satisfied until I kill the wanderer who came between me and my glory.” “Then you’ll die.” She stated showing no sympathy towards him. “Ha! You’ll see what’ll happen.” The man replied walking down the hill towards their horses. “Oh boy Corkus.” Groaned a young man with a knife and whet stone in his hand. “Griffith is it alright to leave this up to him?” Griffith remained silent and merely rolled his head over.

     Meanwhile the young man who had been walking down the road stopped and looked around seeming to have sensed something. “Just my imagination.” he muttered peering out the corner of his eye. Suddenly several horsemen bounded over the hill and charged towards him with their weapons drawn. “Bandits!” he muttered drawing his great blade. “Dan get him!” Corkus shouted.  Then one of the horsemen urged his horse past the rest and raised his sword to strike the young man. The young man swung his sword far faster than the horseman had predicted and easily slew the horseman. Another had ridden up behind the young man and swung his flail at him when he turned around. One of the spikes managed to cut his cheek, but the young man swung his sword and cut off the rider’s arm holding the flail. “Dear God, that man is too powerful.” Remarked Corkus pulling on his horses reigns . By this time all the men who had wanted to attack the young man had surrounded him but they gave him a large birth fearing his great sword may reach them. “Look what that man did to Dan and Earl.” Said one of the men looking down on the battle taking place below. “Dang it what is Corkus doing? Fight or get out of there! He’s going to get himself killed.” Casca looked over from where she was sitting and noticed Corkus’ attempt was beginning to draw a crowd. “See, I told you so.” still seeming not to care about the battle. “Casca you had better go help them.” Griffith stated. “What! Are you kidding? It’s all Corkus’ fault!” At this last statement Griffith opened one of his piercing crystal blue eyes and stared at Casca icily. “Fine, I’ll do it.” Casca said reluctantly.

     Below them on the road the young man was beginning to wonder why these bandits where wasting his time like this. “Uh…, Regale you go next.” Corkus said looking at another horseman. “What? Why me?” he replied clearly not wanting any part in this fight at all. The young man then began to walk towards Corkus and lunged at him with his sword held back getting ready to strike when a crossbow bolt embedded itself in his right bicep. He looked to see where it came from and saw a horseman wearing a face covering helmet riding up with a crossbow in hand. “Casca are you backing me up?” asked Corkus surprised at her arrival but relieved none the less. “Of course I’m not!” she replied icily “I’m here only on Griffith’s order. Now step back!” At this she threw the crossbow over her shoulder and rode up facing the young man. Seeing he had a new opponent he pulled the bolt from his arm and held his sword up in front of him while Casca drew her sword and charged at him. She swung her sword but was easily blocked by the young man who proceeded to attack her as rapidly as he did with Bazuso and Casca could only just defend herself from each powerful blow. The young man then saw an opportunity and stabbed at her head but only succeeded in knocking her helmet off and dismounting her. Now that he was able to see her face he realized he had been fighting a woman. “How dare you!” shouted Casca and charged at him trying to strike his chest but he blocked her blow and pushed her back and then proceeded to attack her with the same ferocity as before driving her back towards the hill. At this several of the horseman were amazed “He’s driving back Casca!” “But none of us can beat Casca except for Griffith.” All this while Casca was being driven back, quickly running out of ground, and was starting to become unable to block his blows. “His skill! And the Strength of his blows!” Casca thought to herself. She was beginning to doubt even she could beat him. Then the young man struck again and knocked her sword out of her hand as well as knocking her to the ground. He then raised his sword once more to deliver a final blow  “I’m going to die!” Casca thought and then clenched her eyes shut. Suddenly a spear landed between her and the young man. He turned to see who had thrown the spear and saw a man in white armor astride a white horse with a curved rapier at his side. “Griffith!” Casca cried out trying to contain her relief at seeing him. The young man and Griffith regarded each other with contempt “Griffith?” the young man muttered thinking he had heard the name before. “Be careful,  he is very strong!” warned Casca sitting up. Griffith simply stared at the young man seemingly paying her no heed. “Will you put up your sword?” Griffith asked not sounding in the least intimidated. As if in response the young man gripped his sword tighter and held it in front of himself. “I see.” Griffith remarked and drew his word. The young man charged at him both arms rose over his head to swing the mammoth sword down on Griffith. Griffith however blocked his blow seemingly without any effort. He then glided his blade down the length of the young man’s sword causing him to turn. Griffith then stabbed him through the left shoulder dealing a near crippling wound.  “I lost?” thought the young man his mind reeling. He had never been defeated in battle as far as he could remember but now a man he had never met was able to defeat him with seemingly no effort. “I knew it. No one can beat our leader Griffith!” shouted Corkus.  The young man bleeding profusely turned and gripped his sword with only his right arm and tried to hold himself up. He was still amazed at the fact he had been so seriously injured. He then hefted his sword onto his shoulder and charged at Griffith. However when he raised his blade up he fell over, his blood pooling beneath him. Griffith then removed his helmet his hair flowing out. He regarded the young man with a mixture of fondness and sympathy but the young man glared up at him and snarled like a mad dog. He couldn’t manage to maintain consciousness much longer and soon passed out.

     While he slept he dreamed. He dreamt he was running. From what he did not know, only he was naked and had only his sword. He was surrounded by mist in an otherwise black world. He chanced a glance back and saw a great red hand with long curling nails reaching for him. He couldn’t seem to understand why he was struck with fear like he was but he decided to turn and face the ethereal hand. The hand reached out and grasped him but he swung down his sword and clove the hand in two. He stood rooted to where he was, panting he gazed at the bloody hand. He then saw some of the mist blow away and saw the hand’s owner. It was a humongous blood red demon. He took the cloven hand and placed the two pieces together and then the skin seemed to melt and then reform to form a solid hand once more. The young man then turned and saw more of the mist clear away and a hill of skeletons arise and sitting on the top of them in a large wooden chair was a man. He had short cut blonde hair and was quite muscular. He seemed to pay the young man no heed. “Gambino! Gambino help me. My sword is no use against this monster.” he begged. “Don’t talk nonsense.” Gambino replied his voice deep and rough. “Don’t you remember?  I am no longer alive in your world.” He then stood and glared at the young man. “You ran your sword through my body that night. I was in agony and then I died!” at this last utterance he then began to spray blood from an unseen wound in his chest showering the young man in it. “Gambino please listen!” he begged his voice beginning to choke, “I was…” before he could finish he was grasped by the immense demon and smashed against the hill of bones. “Help me Gambino!!” he screamed but Gambino only stood beside him staring said, “You were the one who should have died!” At this the young man began to weep but he still struggled to get free from the demon’s massive hand that was crushing him against the ground. He then saw several of the skeletons assemble themselves and surround him.  They continued to chant the same words Gambino had just said. “You should have died!” “You should have died!” He was struggling now with all his might but couldn’t seem to break free and then he woke. He noticed that while he was unconscious someone had bandaged his wounds and also he no longer wore any armor. Then the next thing he realized was he couldn’t move his arms or any part of himself. He then began to fade back into unconsciousness but before he did he saw that the woman he had been fighting was lying beside him trying to keep his body warm. “How is it that I don’t mind I’m being touched?” he thought and just before he slipped entirely out he thought “It feels good.” And with that he closed his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

     The next thing he knew he was staring at the roof of a tent. “Where am I?” he thought. He then tried to sit up but was racked with pain the moment he was all the way up. He grabbed at his chest and noticed he had been bandaged. He then proceeded to stand and walk out of his tent. When he lifted the flap he saw that he was in the camp of the men he had just fought. “The mercenary band.” He commented to himself “They seem kind of young though.” He then saw the man who had wounded him as well as the woman he had fought talking with each other across the camp. He gritted his teeth still remembering he had been defeated. The pain of his wound he could stand but he couldn’t stand the wound dealt to his pride. “That guy!” he murmured. At that moment the woman stormed off from Griffith. She marched over to the young man and punched him squarely on the chest. He fell to one knee clutching at his chest. “What was that for!” he yelled, still holding his chest. Paying his words no heed she stomped off and entered a tent that was pitched a distance from the others. Turning she yelled back through gritted teeth, “Good morning! If I’d had my way you would’ve been left to die out there!” All the young man could seem to do was stand and grip his chest where she had struck him. “Don’t let her get to you.” Said a teenager sitting in a chair next to the young man’s tent. The young man hadn’t seen him until he spoke he looked to be no older maybe even younger than he but had long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had freckles across the bridge of his nose and extending onward to his cheeks.

He was polishing a knife and had two others stuck into the top of an overturned crate setting beside him. “My name is Judeau, but don’t worry about Casca. She’s just the restless type. She’s always rebelling against her life as a mercenary. It’s probably because she’s far more skilled than the rest of us.” He added with a slight chuckle. “She still can’t get over that Griffith gave her the order to lie down beside you for two whole days! You were shivering!  You had lost so much blood after the fight that your body needed to be warmed. He told her it’s a woman’s duty to warm a man.” At this the young man began to think about what all had happened after the fight. “Did she wake you with a punch?” asked Griffith startling the young man from his thoughts. “I am Griffith, and you are?” he asked staring the young man in the eyes. The young man stared right back with fierce anger burning inside but tried to hide it allowing only a slight scowl across his face. “My name is Guts.” He answered not allowing any emotion to leak over. Suddenly Griffith pulled out Gut’s sword from seemingly nowhere. “A great weapon!  Although it’s a bit much for me though.” Griffith said handing his mammoth sword over to him. Gut’s took it and checked to make sure nothing had happened to it. “Would you care to join me for a walk?” said Griffith turning his head. At this Gut’s went back into his tent and put on his shirt and back strap to hold his sword and emerged. Together the two walked out of the camp. The rest of the men in the camp seemed to have mixed feelings about having the young man in their camp but none of them said anything. “Who are they? They have an unpleasant look in their eyes.” Guts remarked. “The Band of the Hawk.” Replied Griffith turning his head over his shoulder. “The Band of the Hawk?” Guts asked. “Yes, have you never heard of us?” Griffith said this time not bothering to turn his head but still keeping an air of politeness that seemed out of place for a mercenary. “I’ve heard only rumors. The Band of the Hawk. The mercenary company known as ‘Death on the Battlefield’. They held off the castle siege for three months when everyone predicted the castle would fall within three days.”  Answered Guts.  After that I never thought the Hawks would be composed of these kids though he thought to himself.  

     Meanwhile back in the camp Casca was watching Griffith and Guts with a mixture of curiosity and rage. “So what do you suppose Griffith is up to?” Corkus asked noticing her watching the pair leave. “He shouldn’t have spared that brutes life.” He continued. “Well I assume he intends to have that guy join us.” said a voice. Both Casca and Corkus turned to see who it belonged to and saw a young boy who looked to be twelve or thirteen. He was disassembling and cleaning a crossbow while he continued, “We saw with our own eyes how powerful he is. I’m pretty sure he would be a great addition to our army.” At this Corkus couldn’t restrain himself and kicked the crossbow the boy was holding from his hands. “Never! Don’t be ridiculous Ricket!” Corkus yelled. Continuing with a mournful tone, “He cut Earl’s arm off and sent Dan to his grave. That man killed our comrades. I can’t pretend that never happened. Isn’t that right Pippin?” he said motioning to a large man leaning against a cart. He was a full seven feet tall and his arms were at least a foot around. 

     A hawk flew over the hill where Griffith and Guts were standing. Griffith stretched his arms towards the sky. He struck Guts as not having much of a care almost like a child. “Ah. Quite a view isn’t it?” Griffith said surveying the camp laid out beneath him. Guts couldn’t stand to see Griffith like this and no longer able to contain himself he answered, “Tell me why! You could’ve stabbed me through the heart back there. It would have been easy for you. Why didn’t you kill me?” unbeknownst to either of them Casca was watching and listening to the events unfolding from behind an oak tree just beneath the ridge of the hill. “Because I want you to join me Guts.” “What?” At this Casca could hardly stand to keep herself concealed. “I watched the duel between you and Bazuso at the Castle. You were magnificent!” Griffith continued. Guts could only stand there in shock as the memories came flooding back. He remembered charging the man and swinging his sword not giving his own life any regard only caring about killing his opponent. He remembered his blows smashing against Bazuso’s axe and the exhilaration he felt when he realized he was winning. The blow that cut into Bazuso’s axe and then the final blow. “The fight was quite close though. If Bazuso’s axe hadn’t have been cracked you probably would have lost your head.” “Probably” “At least you’re honest.” Griffith said with a smile. Griffith continued fixing Guts with his stare, “Judging by the way you fight it seems you value victory over your own life.” At this Guts broke eye contact he had never thought about it that way before but he began to realize it was true. Although he saw this Griffith still continued, “You never yield a single inch. Even when faced with a monster like Bazuso. Or outnumbered by a gang on horseback. On the contrary you would rather recklessly engage any opponent that crosses your path. You are brave, but I believe you purposefully put your life in danger and seek the meaning of your existence by battling to preserve it. That’s what I see. You are fascinating! I find you much to my liking. I want you to join me Guts!” At this, Guts was struck silent. Never in his life time had anyone seemed to show that they cared about him and now someone wanted him to join his army even though he had been his enemy just days ago. Casca still hiding behind the oak was struck with confusion, she’d had never seen Griffith show this kind of attention towards any of the members of his army. Guts couldn’t seem to understand it either. “What is this? Why is he telling me all of this?” he thought. “Well then if I say no?” Guts asked. “You don’t want to?” Griffith replied. “Of course not! I refuse!” At this last outburst Guts’ wound seemed to open itself once more and he fell to a knee gripping it. Even in his pain though he gritted his teeth and stared up into Griffith’s eyes showing no weakness only a burning fighting spirit. “Don’t talk as if you know so much! What do you know about me? You’ve never talked to me! How could you know anything about me!” he barked up at Griffith. “You’re right I don’t. I just have a feeling about you.” Guts hearing this rose to both feet and stood erect completely forgetting his pain. “You lousy son of a… Treating me like some sort of friend after you stabbed me!” At this he spit at Griffith’s feet and pointed a finger at him. “You started the fight! I’m not going to forget about what you did to me! But I don’t expect you’ll forget about what I did either!” Here he laughed and continued with a smile, “Taking the lives of two of your men.” Griffith had stood listening and had not let a flicker of emotion seep into his face and now still showing out of place manners answered him. “What do you want then?” At this Guts broke into an even bigger grin that seemed almost like that of a dog realizing he has the upper hand in a fight. “Well that’s simple…” reaching up he grabbed the handle of his blade and pulled it from its sheath, “to settle this with swords!” Hearing this Casca bit her lip for fear she might let out a cry. Staring at Griffith, Guts gripped his sword with both hands and stated, “When this battle is over I’ll make a hole in your chest as big as this one when I win.” “And what if I win.” Asked Griffith a smile beginning to make its way across his face. “Then you can do whatever you want with me.” Guts answered gripping his blade tighter. Griffith closed his eyes and almost reluctantly drew his curved rapier from its sheath. “I rather enjoy settling things by force.” Griffith said after he had pulled his blade from its sheath. Unable to let this go on Casca burst from her hiding place and shouted, “Griffith!” Guts remembered hearing her voice and out of the corner of his eye he saw Casca. Standing at the bottom of the hill with a hand on the hilt of her sword trying to resist the urge to draw it. “Leave us alone Casca.” Griffith shouted to her. “But I…” “No matter what I will have what I want.” Griffith interrupted. “I’ve had enough of this bull!” Guts yelled then charged at Griffith. “You make me sick!” “Griffith!”

     In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least it is true that man has no control, even over his own will.

Author's Note

please ignore grammar problems (I'm kinda bad about that) but other than that let me know what you think please!!!

Reviews

[Prose-full]

i've gotten sucked into your book already...
thanks for the review you gave..i appreciate it.

peace and write..