Transsilvanian

by Hector Miller

  As one we reined in our horses and dismounted. We formed a wall of shields on either side of the track with the horses in the centre. On the sides of the road we could see movement within the trees, illuminated by the shivelights.

  Slowly we began to walk back the way we came. The forest suddenly came to life as hundreds of screaming savages burst from the trees.

  The men with us were the best of the Heruli. Big, powerful warriors who could wield the terrible broad-bladed battle-axe single-handed.

  The enemy wore no armour, the Heruli reaping a terrible harvest.

  A throwing axe embedded itself in my shield, followed a heartbeat later by a heavy arrow issued from a Fenni bow. To my surprise, the arrow struck with such force that the bone-tipped missile pierced the shield and protruded an inch on the inside.

  Then they were upon us. A warrior wielding a long hafted axe jumped into the air while his weapon moved downward in an overhead strike. I stepped forward, using the shield offensively. The metal boss of the shield struck him squarely in the face. He fell unconscious and Hostilius dispatched him with a quick downward strike of his gladius.

  A short, dark-haired warrior ran at me, his shoulder lowered, with the intention of tipping over my shield. I tilted my scutum sideways and swung my gladius from low to high, removing one side of his unprotected head in the process.

  A giant, clad in furs, used the opportunity to throw his axe. I barely had time to deflect the weapon with the rim of my shield. He rammed his spear at my face with viper-like speed. I turned my head and the blade scored a line along my helmet. As he ran into my shield, I stepped backwards and he stumbled. I lowered my shield and thrust the tip of my gladius into his eye. I stepped over the corpse, closing the line again, just in time to dispatch a young warrior too eager to take my armour as plunder.

  As quickly as it had started, the attack ended.

  I gave the signal and at least ten horses without riders, but with swords tied to the saddles, were sent into the forest by a slap of a blade on the rump. In order to catch wild animals, bait was needed.

  We continued our slow retreat. Half of the Heruli warriors lay draped over their horses, feigning injury. Every so often, a horse was released into the undergrowth, resulting in screams of pleasure as the barbarians claimed the priceless horses and even scarcer iron weapons.

  Hostilius whispered under his breath. “It looks like your plan is working, Domitius. The whole bloody forest is crawling with savages.”

  By the time we exited the woods, the barbarians had worked themselves into a frenzy. We had baited them with another ten horses loaded with iron weapons and mail armour. Only a hundred of the Heruli were still walking. The rest were draped over their horses or sat slumped in their saddles.

  When our group came to a halt two hundred paces from the woods on the flat plain, it was too much for the savages to bear. Only one hundred fit men stood between them and the priceless loot of five hundred horses and an abundance of weapons and armour.

  They ran at us from the woods, numbering at least two thousand. It was what I had been waiting for. A grinning Heruli signalled with his horn and one and a half thousand Greuthungi and Heruli horsemen charged from where they were concealed in the undergrowth, two hundred paces from the track.

  The ‘injured’ Heruli warriors miraculously healed and all mounted. Our numbers were now equal to that of the barbarians, but the forest dwelling savages were no match for the heavily armed and armoured horsemen of the Goths and the Heruli.

  The Venedi and Fenni froze, and sealed their fate in the process. Hundreds fell as the wall of horses crashed through their lines and trampled them into the dust.

  Some of the enemy managed to escape back to the forest, but most were cut off from the sanctuary of the trees.

  We surrounded the milling mass of disorganized men.

  I leaped off the horse when the signifier blew a deafening note on his horn. I shouted in my best parade ground voice, speaking in Scythian. “Who speaks for you? Come forward!”

  All went silent and reluctantly a warrior moved towards me, men parting to let him pass through. His clothing was indistinguishable from the rest, yet he carried himself with dignity. His hair and beard was dark, which matched his eyes.

  “What you want, Goth?” he said in passable Scythian and spat in the dirt.

  I removed my helmet. “I am no Goth. I am Eochar of the Roxolani”, I said in my friendliest tone.

  He narrowed his eyes and said: “I am Vlad.”

  I motioned for him to follow me and we walked thirty paces distant, out of earshot of the men.

  “Why have you attacked us, Vlad?”

  He smirked. “What it to you, Scythian dog of Goths?”

  I was losing patience with the savage. My hand went to my sword and there was iron in my tone. “Vlad of the Venedi. Measure your next words carefully as it will determine your fate and that of your people.”

  “I ask you again, for the last time. Why have you attacked us?”

  He knew that the time for posturing was at an end. The Venedi rubbed his eyes and his fingers settled on the bridge of his nose. He sighed and kept his eyes closed. The actions of a man resigned to his fate.

  Vlad the Venedi shared his tale in broken Scythian.

  “A moon ago, traders from Venedi and Fenni travel to talk with Lord Adosinda, the Goth. The tribes have desire to trade with Goths. They also want trade with strange war-like people who live other side of Mother River. They called Romani.”

  He was pointing to the south so I assumed he referred to the Danube and the lands of Rome.

  Vlad continued: “Traders never return. I go speak to Lord Adosinda. He said traders killed by Goth king. Adosinda feel sad about traders but he fears powerful, evil Goth king.”

  Vlad hit his chest with his fist. “I say to Adosinda that Venedi not afraid of king. Only evil man kills innocent travellers. Adosinda tell us when Goth king come. We wait and try to kill evil man, but he hides with Adosinda.”

  Vlad grinned then. “But Lord Adosinda sent messenger. He said that tonight, he leave small gate open in wall. We kill evil king. Everyone happy then. Vlad take his people and go home.”

  “Yes, Vlad. Everyone will be happy, especially Lord Adosinda. Once you have killed the king, Adosinda will kill you. Then he will be the one who has avenged the king. Soon he will make a move on the throne as well, after he has taken your lands and killed your people.”

  I could see that I had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, but he was not convinced, so I pushed my advantage.

  “Your warriors will remain under guard of my men, while two of us go with you tonight, to kill the Goth king.”

  He frowned then, confused. I grinned and explained.

  Chapter 5 – Assassins

  I had discarded my Scythian armour in exchange for clothes of the Fenni, looted from the dead.

  I wore primitive braccae of deer hide, and a short-sleeved bearskin jerkin with the fur on the inside. And I started to itch immediately after donning the musty skins. I tried to put the newly acquired infestation from my mind, focusing on the task at hand.

  “Why does Hostilius get to join you, Lucius?” asked Vibius, clearly dejected. Marcus wore a similar expression.

  “He blends in the best”, I said while trying to get my feet into the mouldy deerskin boots.

  “What do you mean by ‘blends in’, Domitius?” Hostilius asked while narrowing his eyes.

  Hostilius had grown his beard and shaved his head, looking every bit as savage as the average Fenni.

  “I mean it as a compliment, Primus Pilus. You know how to act the part, like the Greek actors of old.”

  “Are you calling me a Greek now?” he said and scowled.

  I held up both hands with palms open. “Peace, Primus Pilus. I mean to say that I need a killer by my side.”

  He grinned, placated by my words, and carried on tying the fur leg wrapping in place.

  Hostilius wore a knitted woo
l tunic which had at least a couple of previous owners, with the skin of an enormous wolf draped over it all like a cloak.

  He sniffed the skin and pulled up his nose. “It smells like, like… “

  “Fox piss”, I interjected. “It’s an old hunter’s trick to mask the smell of a man.” Domitius regarded the fur as if its previous owner was a leper, so I added: “Sometimes they use the excrement as well.”

  Vlad had told us earlier that a thousand of his men were still encamped around the fortress to ensure that the evil king did not escape. Within the fortress were many huts and halls, but the compound of the king was in the centre. Kniva and ten of his oathsworn were housed in a separate hall, as befitted their status.

  We waited patiently until darkness descended. Then we departed for the stronghold of Lord Adosinda.

  We rode in the middle of the road, in full view. We did not fear an attack as Vlad had sent word of our imminent arrival. Close to the hillfort we were challenged by sentries set by the Venedi. Vlad muttered words of which I did not know the meaning and we dismounted on his signal.

  “We walk from here. My men will look after horses.”

  Hostilius and I followed obediently. We walked uphill, stumbling repeatedly. Fortunately our eyes became accustomed to the darkness and soon we noticed the walls of the fort silhouetted against the sky.

  Vlad went to ground, crouching behind a small bush, and hooted like an owl. He repeated the call thrice.

  Within heartbeats we heard the creaking of a seldomly used door being opened. We followed the Venedi to the black doorway where a hulking Gothic warrior waited.

  “I told you that only one man must come, Vlad of the Venedi”, the man hissed. “Send them away!”

  “They are family of the wrongfully slain, lord. They are merchants, but they have sworn an oath of vengeance. We can only return home once they have fulfilled their oath.”

  The brooding figure growled: “Since when is an oath important to the Venedi?”

  Vlad offered no reply and a couple of heartbeats passed in silence. The big man sighed. “Bring them then. It matters not.”

  The Goth led us along an uneven dirt path that meandered through the clusters of huts. More than once my boot slipped on something that had an all too familiar consistency. The snoring of the warriors inside were the only sounds as we passed the low doorways.

  We must have walked two hundred paces when the shadows of the huts on both sides of the path gave way to a large open space.

  The Goth allowed us to catch up to him. He walked a few paces to the left and crouched behind the corner of a hall, where we joined him. He whispered: “The evil one is inside this hall. He is the only one sleeping on the raised portion on the far side. The door is around the corner. I will wait close by. Be careful, there is a sentry outside the door.” With that, he backtracked and disappeared, no doubt to ready his warriors to slaughter us after we had done his dirty work. He would then claim to have avenged the iudex.

  With my one hand resting on the crude cut oak post for balance, I crouched and whispered: “Wait for my signal.”

  I slowly crept up to the corner of the hall, lay down flat on my stomach, and inched forward. I stole a peek around the corner. On the steps sat a warrior, staring forward into the darkness.

  I inched back and came to a crouch, feeling around the base of the corner post for a small pebble. Once I found what I was looking for, I peeked again, still crouching. The guard was still in the same position.

  I offered a quick prayer to Arash and Fortuna and from around the corner of the hall, threw the stone high over the roof, hoping that it would fall somewhere on the far side of the guard.

  I crouched and peeked, all the muscles in my body tight as a bowstring.

  Fortuna favoured me, and the stone landed on the far side of the guard with a soft, but audible impact.

  He stood and turned towards the direction of the sound, suddenly alert. I covered the ten paces swiftly and silently, rose behind him and clamped my left hand around his mouth in a grip of iron. I hit him with the heel of my right hand palm where his neck supported his skull, just as Cai had taught me. He slumped, unconscious. I dragged him around the corner to where Hostilius and Vlad were waiting.

  Hostilius nodded. Vlad regarded me with wide eyes.

  I motioned and they followed me through the doorway into the hall.

  The only light was provided by the still glowing coals in the large hearth. We carefully shuffled along the wall, trying our utmost not to disturb the snoring oathsworn of the iudex.

  I spotted Kniva, close to the hearth, on the raised platform on the far side of the hall. Hostilius and Vlad crouched in the shadows while I crept forward. When I was but three paces from my brother-in-law, a warrior near me sat up and rubbed his eyes. I lay down, as if I had passed out earlier. He stood, half-tripped over me and swore under his breath. My hand tightened around my dagger, but he moved on, disappearing outside. I had to act quickly, as he would surely notice the absence of the guard. I motioned with my head and Hositilius moved towards the doorway, in case the sleepy warrior returned and tried to raise the alarm.

  I lay down beside Kniva, accidentally bumping him with my elbow. He stirred and as he opened his eyes I clamped my hand over his mouth. “Be silent, we are all in mortal danger.”

  He blinked a couple of times and then nodded. I removed my hand.

  Just then the warrior returned from making water. He looked around in panic, but as he was about to shout the alarm, Hostilius silenced him by hitting him on the temple with the hilt of his dagger. He caught the slumping warrior mid-air, and gently lay him on the ground.

  Kniva watched in amazement.

  I motioned for Vlad to join us.

  I whispered: “Adosinda started this war and blamed you for it. He has arranged for the Fenni to kill you this night. The traitor is waiting outside with his warriors and they mean to kill us. He thinks Hostilius and I are savages, like Vlad here.” Unsurprisingly, Vlad scowled.

  I produced a small skin filled with fresh blood I hoped belonged to an unfortunate pig, earlier killed by the Venedi. I poured the already thick blood over my hands and dagger and gave Vlad a similar treatment.

  I spoke to Kniva. “Rouse your men in silence, brother. When you hear the clash of blades, come to our assistance.” He nodded, and while he quietly woke his men, I moved towards the door.

  My Roman gladius was in my right hand and my dagger in the left. I noticed that Hostilius was armed the same way. Vlad led the way. He carried a dagger and an axe, of course.

  Adosinda waited around the corner. Alone.

  His gaze drifted towards our blood-smeared hands. The Goth lord had great difficulty hiding his joy.

  Vlad spoke first. “Evil king is dead.” He gestured towards us. “They have fulfilled their oaths. Venedi and Fenni go home now.”

  Behind Adosinda six men appeared from the shadows. These must have been his most trusted men. Men who would lie for him.

  The Goth lord grinned. “You have served your purpose, stupid savages…”

  And that was as far as he got. I had heard enough. There was no reason to delay the inevitable.

  My gladius entered his throat, cutting into his spine as I struck like lightning. Before the Goths could react, Vlad’s axe split the skull of the closest warrior while Hostilius buried his gladius in the gut of a third. A short warrior lunged at me. I blocked and severed his sword hand in the same movement. Another wielded a spear, I deflected the thrust and pulled on the shaft, running the razor edge of my blade across his throat as I passed him.

  Hostilius dealt with his opponent. I heard a dull thud as the last man collapsed with a crude Fenni axe embedded in his forehead.

  Kniva appeared around the corner. For a moment he stared at the bodies littering the ground. “I didn’t think you’d need my help, brother.”

  Kniva held out his arm and Vlad was wise to clasp it. “I will speak to you later, Vlad of the Venedi. Wait fo
r me outside the walls.”

  He turned to me. “I will sort out this mess, then I will join you.”

  I was about to protest but he silenced me with a wave of his hand. “I have come to understand politics, my friend. Fear not. I will see you shortly.”

  Then he added as an afterthought: “If I were you, I would burn those clothes. The people of the Fenni are notorious for the variety of vermin that infest their person, and… something smells like piss.”

  Chapter 6 – Dragontooth

  We went for a swim in the river after tossing the borrowed clothes into the fire. Hostilius smelled better, but it helped naught with the vermin.

  A number of warriors offered foolproof remedies and soon we were ushered into a tent with a small fire lit in the centre. Ox dung and horse hairs were added and I almost choked to death from the acrid smoke. Then we were sponged down with vinegar and our beards and hair coated with olive oil.

  I discovered that the lice of the Fenni were just as hardy as their hosts, finding several of the little critters still very much alive when we cleaned our hair and beards with a fine comb.

  We were rescued from further ministrations by a messenger summoning us to the Gothic fort.

  “I’d rather live with the vermin than inhale that bloody smoke again”, Hostilius said, and pulled a louse from his beard, squashing it in the process.

  “I agree, Primus Pilus”, I replied, scratching my oily scalp.

  We soon arrived at the stronghold of the Goth lord. Vlad, Roudolphos and Guntharic were awaiting our arrival.

  We clasped arms, and one of Kniva’s men led us to the hall of the recently deceased Lord Adosinda.

  Everything was seemingly back to normal. The townsfolk and warriors went about their business without affording us a second glance as we strode to the hall.

  Entering the hall, all went down on one knee, except Vlad, who was also a king of his people. Kniva waved it away. He pointed to a heap of mail and weapons stacked neatly in the corner of the hall. “It is a gift to you, King Vlad of the Venedi, twenty chain mail jerkins, twenty swords and twenty helmets. All of good quality.”