“This was a calamity,” Armin said. “You didn’t even bring me more than few standards. One cohort one, the rest but shit. Germanicus fooled us. Spies or no spies, he fooled us. It must not happen again. We must prepare far better.” He turned and waved his hand. “Come, friends. Let us chase Germanicus off. Then, we will bury our dead, and we shall remember them heroes whose deaths were not in vain. Alas, that we were betrayed.”
He turned his horse around.
He stopped and looked at me. “You will go today. Adalwulf as well. The Sarmatians go with you. I trust them not.”
I jumped to my horse and received shield and spear from Gochan. He watched me leading the Sarmatians off, and I rode down the hill.
I looked at Gochan and spoke. “Send half our men to find Adgandestrius and take Gunda to him. And we shall do what you said. Find Donor for me. He is somewhere here.”
He grinned. “Yes, brother.”
CHAPTER 12
The man was riding near the bottom of the hill, looking at his men speaking to some roman prisoners. The bastard was brooding and snarling down at them. They were shaking their heads, and one was weeping. He had some ten of his men with him, and I looked back at some of his scouts who were following us.
That was fine with me. I didn’t care.
Armin left me in trouble.
He brushed Gervas aside like he would a leaf.
I snarled and felt rage like I had rarely felt before.
I was there to aid and also to betray him. That was true.
And still, he left my son in the hands of the enemy? That was a mistake.
I watched Donor, an enemy. I rode past men heading west and women hauling dead and wounded for burial and care and looked at the battlefield. It was filled with dead, even many Roman, for Germanicus had not stayed for one moment after the battle.
It seemed a suitable place to break my word to Armin.
Donor looked up. His eyes flashed. His ten men turned. “Hraban. I have no time for you now. And it seems none care for your company, even less than before. Failure. I can hardly wait until you are exiled. Then? Look behind you.”
I spread my hand to the side. “Well. Here I am. I need not look behind me. In fact, I shall make it easy for you to keep an eye on me.”
He frowned and spat. “What do you mean, cur?”
I nodded.
Sarmatians lifted their bows and sixty of them rode for Donor. “Because you are coming with me. Are any of the men here your relatives?”
The man’s eyes widened. “What? You dare! What are you—”
“Are any your relatives?” I snarled.
He shook his head. “No, but they are well-known men. Good Cherusci. Why?”
“Kill the rest,” I said.
Arrows sped down on his men. The black-armored hunters shrieked and fell, dying or dead. I rode for Donor, who stood amid the newly made corpses. “Hraban…” he whispered, shaking with anger and fear. “You traitor!”
“No,” I said. “Armin is. And as his dog, it is fitting you fix his shortfalls. I shall stand before his Thing willingly, man. I shall face his justice. I’ll dance and piss on men who come to accuse me of the deaths of these men. Let them try! Let them accuse Hraban the Oath Breaker and let them see why I have killed so many men.” I pointed a finger at him. “But first, I have a need of you and your men.”
I watched hunters on hillside, who had been watching us killing the men, staring at us uncertainly.
I rode around Donor and the Roman prisoners and watched his face go from brave to terrified. He saw Adalwulf riding around with his men and mine, nearly two hundred, all killers who had no loyalty for Armin. He had seen Adalwulf killing his nephew, and he knew he would see the by soon, if he wasn’t careful. I stopped before him. “Your men know the land like none else. They know the Cherusci lands and the Luppia ones, and many know the trails of the Chatti, eh? This is what you always say. This is your boast. That you are the eyes and ears of Armin, as you were for Sigimer.”
He licked his lips. He nodded. “I asked Armin to be allowed to kill you. He should have—”
I put the Red Wolf’s tip under his chin. “There are two Sarmatians who left the Roman castra with my son. Alde and Borena. They do not know the land. They will be going for my father, Maroboodus. You will set your men—”
“Armin wants my men out there chasing Germanicus!” he roared. “We might still be able to catch some of them!”
I spat. “I care not. Armin cared not, so I do not. Not right now. I will again, perhaps, when Gervas is found alive and well. Set all your men to seek ways from that fort to the lands of the south. Gervas is hurt, so they won’t move fast.”
“Unless they are carrying a corpse,” he said darkly.
“In that case, you are one too,” I said. “I won’t carry you. I’ll leave you rotten in the bushes. Find them. If you do not, you die. It is a simple thing.” I grinned and leaned down on him. “Let us see, Donor, how brave you are. Refuse now! Then I slit your throat, and Armin will have other men command his scouts, and perhaps he shall catch Germanicus. Your fame shall soar! You defied the Oath Breaker! Choose.”
He hesitated and shook where he stood. Then he looked up to the two men who had been trailing us.
“Fetch the others. Two hundred men,” he called out, as I grinned and leaned down to tug an ax from his belt.
***
We had travelled fast.
It had taken Armin two days to realize Donor was not out scouting for their enemy, and when his men had found us, travelling past Castra Flamma, I had snarled them and their threats away.
Ours was a party of two hundred men, and one prisoner, and dozens of Donor’s hunters who approached us, and spoke to him, brought no news at all.
We traveled east for the Cherusci lands and then south along hills that divide Luppia from those lands. We rode the familiar fords over to the lands of Armin, and there, south for the Chatti lands, beyond which, Hermanduri plains and then the mountains of Maroboodus lay. They were days and days away, and I rode, feeling despair and hopelessness conquer my soul. Wulf was serious, deep in his thoughts. Adalwulf was not questioning my judgement, even if I risked his future. Gochan was frowning and hoping to find his sisters.
The two had risked much for me. Gochan especially, could easily have betrayed me and taken me to Armin. He was too honorable for that.
And he knew best how hard his sisters would be to find.
They could hide anywhere, hunting, waiting until winter. They might find a hall to stay in, or ride north, east, south, and disappear. They could be anywhere. They might have, even then, taken Gervas to Ourbazo after all, and gods help him, and me then.
I had failed.
I had made a mistake with Alde, and no game of hearts was without risks. I had let her get close to me, and she had gotten closer than she and I had both intended. I had let Borena befriend Gervas, hoping it would be enough to keep him safe, to tap into the vein of honor I had sensed in her the moment she had chosen to fight with her husband.
She had honored her oaths to Maroboodus first.
I had failed to keep Germanicus from grasping his first victory.
Donor shared the dark thoughts. Swathed in his cloak, he was riding in the midst of our columns.
We ate and drank, slept, and as days passed, and his scouts kept coming back with no news, hope faded.
One morning, I found him riding next to me as we were skirting the lands of the Chatti.
“They have searched,” he said, a note of fear in his voice.
I said nothing.
“They have searched the ways to the north,” he said. “They have questioned thousands of people. They have ridden to the woods of the Sigambri, and along the ways Germanicus took. They rode north to the Tubantes, and to our lands. Cherusci have not seen just two women with a wounded man. They have seen plenty of women with hundreds of wounded men.”
“They are different, these women,” I said darkly. “Wolves both.”
>
He flinched and nodded. “Shall they ride to the lands of the Hermanduri? Or to the Matticati? Then to Maroboodus himself? We cannot find them.”
“Maroboodus,” I snarled. “Maroboodus the traitor. Maroboodus the roman. Just wrong roman.”
He wondered at my words and said nothing for a while and nodded ahead as we followed a great river. Then he tried again. “Visurgis, as Rome calls the river, and these tributaries, they go all the way to south. We cannot possibly find them. It is not my fault.”
“I care little for faults. We won’t find them? Then you are dead,” I told him. “And I have nothing to lose. It is unwise to put Hraban into such a position, Donor. I serve Armin because of Gervas. He seems to have forgotten it.”
“He fears you because Thusnelda keeps telling him you are a risk,” he said. “That you are ill luck. The Summer Sword of the Cherusci suffers for your reputation.”
I nodded. “She has ever feared me, even after I saved her life.”
“She is a queen of the people,” he answered, “and cannot risk the people.”
“I piss on the people as well,” I said. “And Donor, I piss on your dead mouth, if you suggest Gervas is lost.”
“You have lost him,” he whispered. “Not I.”
“Shut up,” I said softly.
He went quiet, and I pulled my sword, for I felt darkness conquer my soul. I felt despair struggling with hope, and hope was defeated. I looked around and saw the autumn working to overthrow summer, and that, too, seemed a sign of hopelessness. I lifted the sword and put it under his chin, and he stiffened.
And then, Woden came to our aid once more.
Some of his scouts were riding our way. They were whipping their horses through a ford and stared at us with fear. Then they spotted Donor, guided their mounts to a dry ground, and rode through our ranks.
They stared at me balefully, and I watched them coming. I realized my sword was still on Donor’s throat, and I pulled it off and stared back at them.
One, a young fellow with a thin beard, pointed a spear across the wood. “There is a small Sigambri settlement over there. Just a few dozen people. We were riding for it, when we saw a woman walking to the river to fetch water. She was dressed in armor like these…others.” He nodded at the Sarmatians. “Red haired, and with a limp she was. She took water to a house at the edge of the village. She was talking to some Sigambri chief, and he looked like he was enamored by her.”
I kicked my horse forward.
The column rode like the wind, splashing to the river, then over it, and I doubt I breathed at all during the time it took to ride down that river. Hour, two, I begged Woden Borena had not seen our scouts or sensed trouble.
When we pressed to the woods, and through them, like a wave of rage, we finally saw the village.
I stopped to look down at it.
Donor was speaking with his men, and they were pointing at a hall near the water.
The village had perhaps fifty people, warriors and hunters, and some of those saw us there, on the hill, a milling mass of warriors.
They rushed off, calling out.
It might have been settled peacefully. It could have been dealt with without bloodshed.
I didn’t risk it.
“Kill the men,” I said. “Chase the rest to the woods. Adalwulf, Wulf, Gochan. For the hall.”
We kicked our horses down the hillside. We rode like an avenging cloud of the darkest gods’ minions and thundered to the village.
It was a butchery. It was not only men who were killed.
Women were trampled. Children too. Elders were rushing to save their cattle. Men tried to fight and form a line of shields, but our men smashed through it. Lances dipping, the Sarmatians and Adalwulf’s Chatti hacked gleefully to the village, and the spread-out place of peace was soon echoing with horrified screams of woman, the sound of terrified cows, the whinnying of wounded horses, and the horrified calls of men as they were slain.
I rode for the hall, spear in my hand.
A chief, a man in leather armor, was running for it, calling out warnings.
I rode at him and stabbed down. The man’s arms went up, his eyes were huge with horror, and then he fell under my horse’s hooves, and my spear was bloodied.
I saw the hall’s doorway open, and Alde came out, thin and fey. She saw us and lifted a bow.
She let loose an arrow, and it tore past my face and took down a Sarmatian. She let go of an arrow again, and it sunk to my saddle.
I didn’t notice.
I rode at her, as her eyes widened, and she let loose one more arrow that sunk to Wulf’s horse. He jumped clear, and then Alde was out of arrows, and her sight had not saved her, for I roared and tossed my spear with all my force.
She stiffened, looking horrified and sad.
The spear flew true and split her belly. She fell on her knees, howling, and Gochan jumped and kicked her down. He hesitated, licked his lips, and thrust down. “For your oaths, sister,” he hissed. “May you remember them in the next world.”
I rode back and forth and looked into the hall. There, Gervas was laying. I saw his face, feverish, and Borena near him.
Her face was white with fear as she looked at me.
She walked out, stepped over Alde’s body, and Gochan stepped back.
She was shaking her head.
I waited, and the cries of the villagers were the only sound we could hear.
Finally she spoke. “I was just keeping my oath. The one I gave to the one who hired us. It was I, you know. I met with our Cherusci…” She pointed her finger at Gochan. “He broke us from Vannius. It cost me my boy. After that, we all decided he has no power over us. I made a new oath. A mercenary oath. Filthy oath. But I keep my oaths.”
I stared at her with hate and anger.
“Alde…she wanted to spare you Germanicus,” she said. “She loved you as well. And I love Gervas I love him. He is much like my son. I didn’t give him to Germanicus. Your father would not kill him. I had to keep my oath.”
I snorted and spat. “You—”
“He is safer there than here,” she said.
“I thought so once!” I yelled. “I know him! You do not!”
She sneered. “And you are better?” She waved her hand across the village. It was dying, in fire in places.
I shrugged and calmed myself. “I have fought through Rome and Germania to find him a future, Borena. I care not for my mistakes, or what you think about it. I knew my father hunted for me. I heard men had been hired and I knew I couldn’t trust Armin and his people. I feared Germanicus was behind the order, as much as my father. Now? He shall get nothing. Neither will Germanicus. And you shall tell me who hired Ourbazo. Come now. Tell me who it was. Was it Armin? Did he intend to sell me to my father in return for peace while he fights Rome?”
She shook her head. “No.”
I jumped down and walked to her. She backed off. “Tell me. Tell me, and I shall not hang or stab you down.”
She licked her lips and leaned close to me. She told me.
I spat and turned away from her and pushed past her to the house. “Will he live?”
She nodded. “I think so. He is terribly weak. We stopped here to heal him. What now? Will you let me go?”
I smiled and turned away from her. “You were trying to keep your oath to my father. Will you stop now? I doubt it. But I shall not hang or stab you down.” I turned to Gochan. “We shall not use a weapon on her. We shall not hang her. Take our sister to the river, brother, and drown her.”
I turned to my son, and Gochan punished our sister for her crimes.
Donor had escaped.
CHAPTER 13
(Mattium, November 15th, A.D. 13)
Armin was standing before Arpus in the man’s hall in Mattium. The great hillfort had received him silently, as the Thiuda of the Cherusci was known to come there with grudges.
“He is the husband of Gunda,” Arpus said. “And to be fair, and while I am not
fond of him, he did have a son to save. Would you have done anything else?”
None moved in the hall. Filled with Chatti war-lords and Cherusci nobles, Donor amongst them, there was no answer from Armin.
Few liked me even in Mattium.
Adgandestrius did. He stepped forward. “What you are asking for, Armin, is impossible. If you have a feud against him, then speak. If it is your man Donor, let him make his claim. Wergild is surely the way forward.”
“He took my man— " Armin began.
“He, too, is your man,” Arpus said softly. “Or is he not? I heard nothing to contradict it.”
Armin was staring at me with unbridled anger. “It is his failure that led to our losses. He failed me in the Yule-Feast. He is my man, my war-lord, but I wish he—”
I shook my head and spat on the floor. “My fault? Nay. It is not my fault. The Sarmatians were hired by someone in your land to capture me, to deliver me to Maroboodus, and he would have delivered me to Germanicus. It is not my fault I am an enemy of your enemy, and they fear me. You left your oathsman in trouble, Armin. Your greater duties have blinded you to your duties to your own.”
He thought of my words. He had heard the words Maroboodus and Germanicus uttered together.
I sneered at him. “Cherusci betrayed me. One of you.”
Then he held his face and rattled his golden sword.
“Are you saying I did this to you?” he roared, and men looked down. “That I hired men to take you to your father?”
None had suggested it. Only he.
I sighed. “No. Not you. I know it wasn’t you.”
“Then do you know who it was?” he bellowed. “Clearly not Donor, at least, since he is still alive!”
“No. He is my enemy, for he resented the manner we made him serve you in Varus’s war, and for what happened now, but he didn’t do it,” I said.
“Do you know who did?” he demanded. “Who heeds Maroboodus over me?”
I shrugged. “I know not. Borena wouldn’t say. But there are traitors enough and Roman speculatore riding between the halls of your adelings and allies for you to come here to threaten your war-lord. My son is back. Gunda and he might survive, though it will be a long time.”
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