Anvil of God

by J. Boyce Gleason

  “He said to give you this.” She held out the knapsack.

  Heinrich took the pack, looked inside, and made a low whistle. “This is some of his best.” He frowned. “You must be in trouble, girl.”

  Trudi nodded, still numb. “They’re coming for me. I need to hide.”

  Heinrich stood, went to the front of the boathouse, peered outside, and hurried back to the stove. “By the Gods, they’re coming. And Tobias with them! You didn’t say there were soldiers!!”

  “Please,” she said.

  Heinrich frowned and then pointed to a boat. “Get in. I’ll cover you with a blanket. Don’t make a sound until I say so.”

  She heard Heinrich walk away. In a moment, he was back and motioning for her to get out of the boat.

  “That old codger is going to get us all killed.” He tossed ropes and several anchors into the boat and began to untie it from the dock. “Lass, you need to stand just inside the opening over there by the dock.” He pointed to the front of the boathouse and then quickly outlined Tobias’s plan.

  From her position near the dock, she could not see Tobias, but she could hear him talking with one of the soldiers. She had a full view of Heinrich as he rowed the boat out of the boathouse and up to the dock. Heavy and cumbersome, the craft sat deep in the water.

  “Why don’t we just throw him in the river?” the soldier said.

  “With this current, he’ll just wash up on the next dock. We’ll need to take him out where it’s deep with ropes and anchors to weigh down the body. I hired some help to heave him over the side. Had to pay extra for that. Not everyone will touch the dead.”

  The soldier grunted. “Just be quick about it.”

  In a minute, Tobias and Heinrich were laying Bradius in the bottom of the boat. Trudi nearly wept at the blood that covered him.

  Heinrich started to climb on board and sat at the stern of the craft, his back toward shore.

  “Just a minute.” The solider stepped forward to search the blankets in the boat. Trudi withdrew into the shadows. All the man found were anchors and ropes.

  “Satisfied?” Tobias asked.

  The soldier grunted.

  Tobias put out his hand. “My payment, good sir.”

  “Not till the job is done.”

  Tobias shook his head and walked past the soldier off the dock.

  “Hold on,” the soldier said, following.

  Heinrich came back to the boathouse and took off his coat. “Here.” He held it out for her. “Put the hood up.”

  “I’m no fool,” Tobias said. “Payment in advance.”

  “One denarius now, and the second when you return.”

  Trudi donned the coat and peered out of the boathouse. Tobias again made as if he were leaving. The soldier’s back was to the dock. Trudi slipped out and climbed into the boat.

  “Done,” Tobias said. “I’ll take the one now.”

  The soldier fished into his pocket for the denarius. Tobias made a great deal of fuss over biting into the coin and holding it up to the light to ensure it was real silver. Eventually, he nodded and turned to the boat. Trudi turned her back to the shore. Tobias boarded and pushed off the dock. The heavy craft teetered, and the two boaters moved to redistribute their weight. Tobias knelt next to the body, and they paddled out into the river. When the current took them, they struggled against it to move the boat to midstream. The craft complied reluctantly, listing heavily toward one side.

  “Is he breathing?” Trudi whispered from her seat at the stern.

  “Keep paddling,” Tobias said. “And keep your face to the far shore. We don’t want that soldier to realize that Heinrich has suddenly become a woman.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Just keep paddling.”

  ***

  When they reached midstream, Tobias placed the anchors in the blanket and fashioned ropes around it to make it look as if a corpse lay within. Then, with a signal to Trudi, the two threw it overboard. The weight of the stones dragged it under the current. Tobias stood in the bow of the boat and waved back to the soldier far upstream. The man waved back.

  “Now let’s look like we’re trying to get this monster to shore,” Tobias said. “The current will take us out of sight. Then we can see if our friend here is still alive.”

  “Who are you?” Trudi asked. “And why are you helping me?”

  “I’m paying a debt to an old friend,” Tobias said. “One that’s long past due.”

  Ignoring protests coming from Tobias, Trudi threw herself into the bottom of the boat and placed her face next to her lover’s, her ear close to his mouth.

  “He still breathes,” she said. “He’s alive.”

  Tobias scrambled to the stern of the boat to steer as Trudi ripped open Bradius’s chemise to expose the wound. A small cry escaped her lips. The wound gaped high on the left side of his chest, its edges puckering like a mouth trying to close. She searched frantically for something to use as a bandage. Finding nothing, Trudi stripped to her undergarments and ripped her dress into strips. She dipped several into the river and scrubbed away the blood near his wound. She rolled others into a compress that she pushed into the crude orifice. As best she could, she wrapped them into place and then turned him on his side to dress the exit wound on his back.

  “He’s blue,” she said. She laid Heinrich’s cloak on the bottom of the boat, rolled Bradius onto it, and then worked it around him until it wrapped his body. “We’ve got to get him to shore,” she said.

  Tobias shook his head. “There are soldiers everywhere. We’ve got to get east.”

  “He’ll die,” she said.

  Tobias nodded. “He might, but he’ll die for certain if we land near here.”

  Tears sprang to Trudi’s eyes. She didn’t think he could make it. She leaned close to Bradius’s ear. “Stay with me, my love,” she pleaded. “Please, stay with me.” She lay alongside his body and pulled him into her arms. His body was limp and difficult to move. She pulled his face to her chest, wrapping her arms over his shoulders.

  “Please, Bradius,” she whispered. “Our life together has just begun. We have so much to do. Stay with me.” Turning to Tobias, she demanded, “How much longer?”

  He looked out at the shore and shrugged. “The Danube has a fast current, but this boat is heavy. It sits low in the water. We are just now passing Donauwörth. We need to be a good distance east before we could even think of landing.”

  “As soon as you can,” she said and turned back to Bradius.

  He still had a bluish cast to his skin. Trudi began to rub his arms, willing life into them. She begged him to hold on and described the life they would lead together. She counted the children they would raise and the flagons of wine they would drink.

  He gave no response. Trudi looked again to Tobias. Again, Tobias shook his head. “Not yet.”

  At long last, she felt the boat heave to one side as Tobias used the oar as a makeshift rudder. The bow turned to starboard, and the heavy craft began its slow journey to shore.

  “I’ll need your help now, miss,” Tobias said, paddling furiously. Trudi moved to the port side and picked up the second paddle. With a final look down at Bradius, she bent to pull the paddle through the water.

  Tobias had chosen the far shore, the southern shore, where few trees lined the banks. Most of it was farmland, flat and unrelenting. Trudi understood Tobias’s reluctance for landing. They could be seen for miles. Slowly, ever so slowly, they moved toward the shore.

  When they reached it, Tobias leapt from the craft into the water with a long rope. One end was tied around his waist, the other attached to the bow. His feet struggled to find footing in the strong current. At last, they found traction, and Tobias hauled against the rope, pulling the bow of the boat around to face him.

  He worked his way to shore, pulling the boat in as he went. At the riverbank, Trudi helped by standing in the stern and forcing the bow skyward. Tobias grabbed it and slid the boat onto shore. Together t
hey carried Bradius to a spot under a tree.

  Tobias produced a flint, and after rounding up fallen twigs and branches, he soon had a fire to warm their patient. Trudi went in search of a willow tree. She found one, peeled off a healthy piece of its bark, and headed back to camp.

  Once there, she used a rock to grind the bark into a black and white powder. She stirred the powder into a cup of water and, propping Bradius’s head in her lap, poured it into his mouth. At first it dribbled out the sides, but when she replaced it, he coughed and swallowed. She repeated the process until he had drunk half a cup.

  Tobias examined Bradius’s wound and sighed. “We’ll have to sear the flesh.” He drew his knife from the scabbard at his belt, wrapped the handle in spare cloth left from Trudi’s dress, and held it near the base of the fire to heat the blade.

  Trudi nodded, knowing the shock could kill Bradius. “We have to try.” She unwound the sodden bandages, amazed at the amount of blood. She rolled Bradius onto his side so that both wounds were accessible. Again she held his head in her lap. Tobias approached with the knife outstretched and touched the blade to the wound in Bradius’s chest. The flesh smoked and blackened. An acrid smell bit at Trudi’s nostrils.

  Bradius groaned but did not waken. Tobias pushed the blade in deeper. This time Bradius bucked against the probe. Tobias moved to the exit wound. Again Bradius’s body heaved against the touch. Again a groan escaped his lips. Tobias continued probing all open parts of the wound. When he had finished, they rewrapped Bradius’s bandages and laid him back against the ground.

  Trudi stood, walked away from her lover, and vomited. Angry at her weakness, she wiped her mouth and turned back to Tobias. She vomited again. This time, the liquid hurled from her in a great fountain, emptying everything in her stomach.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed.

  “I’m surprised you held on so long,” Tobias said. “A loved one’s flesh is like one’s own.”

  They sat on either side of Bradius as day fell into night.

  “Tell me how you know him,” Trudi said.

  “It was a long time ago. Back then, I carried a different name. I was a lieutenant in the army that Bradius raised to fight Charles Martel, may the darkness take his soul.

  “I joined along with all the other young men of my village, Jen, Carl, and Janus. We were all so proud to serve! He was a great man, your Bradius. He had such faith.

  “We reveled in his early triumphs and swaggered through villages, proud to be Bradius’s men. But in the last battle, our unit was left to face Charles when Bradius split the army to save the sacred tree. Without him, we were no match for such soldiers. Charles’s cavalry butchered us. Every one of my friends fell before their swords.”

  “How did you survive?”

  Tobias stared into the fire as if he had not heard her. Trudi waited.

  “It happened so fast.” Emotion choked his voice. “They were on us, and in a moment everyone was dead. I fell to the ground and pulled Carl’s body over me until the fighting passed.” Tears welled in Tobias’s eyes. “I never lifted my blade in their defense.”

  Trudi reached across Bradius to touch his hand. He wept at her touch. It took a moment for him to gain his composure.

  “I fled the battlefield in the dark of night, crawling over the corpses of my friends. I was too ashamed to go home, so I came east over the mountains and changed my name. A year in Donauwörth, I met a young widow, converted to Christianity, and started a new life as a wine merchant.

  “Today I saw Bradius in my shop. I nearly shouted his name just for the joy of hearing it aloud. He didn’t recognize me. And as we chatted about wine, it struck me that perhaps he didn’t want to. Perhaps he was trying to leave the past behind. I contented myself with deeply discounting the best wine I own.

  “When it was returned a while later, I became alarmed. A fellow merchant had found the knapsack by the side of the road and thought it might have been stolen. It could only mean one thing. Bradius was in trouble. I stared at the eight flagons nestled in the knapsack and wrestled with the ghosts of my life. I thought this was perhaps a chance to redeem myself. I closed the shop and went to find him.

  “I was too late. I arrived just in time to see that bastard put a sword through him.

  But he saw me.” Tobias’s voice cracked, and he struggled to hold his tears. “He knew me. And he gave me one last command.” He looked at Trudi. “He said to take care of you.”

  “You had a different fate than your friends,” she said. “I am glad you are here to help me.” When Trudi explained who she was, however, Tobias’ face turned a ghostly white.

  “What have I gotten myself into?” he said, burying his face in his hands. Trudi smiled and again reached across Bradius to take his hand. They talked for hours. She didn’t remember falling asleep but found herself dreaming of sibyls and sex and trees and soldiers.

  “Trudi,” a soft voice called to her. She awoke. It was Bradius.

  ***

  “Oh, my love,” Trudi whispered as she scrambled to Bradius’s side. She lay next to him, folding her body to his as they had every night.

  “I never thought I’d see you again.” He smiled at her.

  “I’m here. You’re going to be fine.”

  Bradius tried to laugh but coughed instead. A bubble of blood escaped his lips.

  “I am so sorry,” Trudi said, her voice breaking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fell from her eyes.

  “My fault,” Bradius said, his voice barely audible.

  “No, my love. It was me. I made the choice. I made the choice. She said to choose well, and I didn’t. I didn’t. I should have known they wouldn’t let me leave. If I had chosen Aistulf or Odilo, they would have left you alone. I chose you.” Her voice broke. It took her a moment to continue. “I chose love. And look what they’ve done.”

  “You chose well,” he croaked. “I … was dead without you.” Bradius closed his eyes and coughed. A liquid sound. Blood trickled from his mouth, ran down his cheek, and pooled near his ear.

  “Stay with me,” Trudi said. “Don’t leave me now. We’ll go to Regensburg. Odilo will protect us. It’s just down the river. We have a boat. We’re almost there.”

  “Shhhh,” Bradius said.

  “We’ll have children.” She started to cry. “We’ll renounce their claim. We’ll live in the mountains.”

  “I love you,” Bradius said.

  “We’ll grow grapes and make wine.” Her face crumpled. “We’ll have each other.” She held his face in her hands. “Stay with me, my love,” she whispered. “Please, stay with me.”

  But he was gone.

  ***

  Night had fallen. The battle had ended. Horns had blown, and Carloman’s forces had retreated behind their shield wall. The thin curve of the moon cast an eerie light over the battlefield. Sunni stood on her balcony looking out over the devastation left by the defense of the breach. Despite the rout of Heden’s cavalry, they had survived another day. The Frankish army had lost close to a thousand men, and yet the city still lived. Gripho was in the courtyard below celebrating with complete ignorance of the loss Heden represented. Sunni had heard rumors of Gripho’s betrayal. He had said the sortie was folly and had refused to waste his men.

  Heden’s body was left on the battlefield where it had fallen. Sunni stared into the darkness. She could no longer see it. A chill wind lifted up off the killing ground and made her shiver. Goose bumps pricked her flesh.

  “The night spirits, milady,” Samson whispered behind her. “We must leave.”

  “I see them,” Sunni said. “They call to me.”

  “Do not listen.”

  “They howl my name.”

  “Come away.”

  “They beg for their mothers.”

  “They steal your soul.”

  “So many died this day—”

  “Milady, please.”

  “It is me they blame.”

  “Not all.”
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  “No,” she said at last, “not all.” They stood silently for a long time. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “I can’t hear his voice,” she said, her words catching.

  “He’s not here. He’s found his place in Utgard.”

  “We had so little time.”

  “He is part of the pattern the Sisters weave.”

  Sunni spun on Samson in anger. “The Sisters,” she sneered, “widowed me twice. The Sisters have left me bereft.” Her voice fell to a whisper that lost none of its fierceness. “I am alone.”

  “Yet the pattern does not end here,” Samson said.

  Sunni grunted and turned back to her vigil.

  ***

  Gripho came to her rooms before dawn. Sunni refused to see him. He stood outside her door boasting that today’s battle would be a victory. The fool! She had, at last, seen him for what he was. She had heard how he betrayed Heden on the battlefield and no longer doubted that he was responsible for burning the church. Samson’s words echoed in her mind. “Your past will betray you.” Gripho was doomed by his own hand. Oh, Heden! Her heart wailed. How I failed you!

  The Compte de Laon also had requested a meeting. She wondered at Samson’s nod. “The pattern does not end here,” he had said. With a coldness of heart she had never felt before, Sunni rose and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled. Her eyes were bloodshot. Dust from the battlefield outlined the tracks of the tears she had shed. She made the Compte wait. She took her time changing her gown, washing her face, and combing her hair. She would not greet the future powerless.

  When Samson opened the door, Sunni sat on her chair as on a throne. She lifted her chin so that her stare would look haughty and cold. She extended her hand regally to the Compte as he entered. He accepted it as such, kneeling before her and kissing her ring. Her composure faltered, however, when she saw who accompanied him into her chambers. Pippin, Childebrand, and Gunther stood waiting to be recognized.

  Sunni couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t possible.

  “Friend or foe?” Her voice was but a whisper.

  “Ah, Sunni. I came as soon as I could.” Pippin opened his arms, a sad, loving smile on his face. “I am sorry it took so long.” Emotion caught on his last words.