Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1)

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Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) Page 13

by Alaric Longward


  ‘You will benefit from the absence of Maino,’ I told him with a sweet smile. ‘When your damned boy is gone, you will spawn wiser children, just like Father said.’

  His eyes were so furious I was afraid for my life for a moment. ‘Maino, despite his many faults hears Woden’s call, Maroboodus,’ Bero said softly. ‘My brother will be left to attend another funeral, or to take care of a sad little cripple for the rest of his days. You will be sorry, Hulderic will be broken and I shall have to bear his resentment, your father’s, my brother’s for eternity. And if you win, I will hate you. And you will not submit?’

  ‘Why won’t he submit?’ I asked him.

  ‘He is twisted inside, Maroboodus,’ Bero said desperately. ‘Broken. He is touched by the gods. There is little kindness in him, boy. You—’

  ‘After a while, by the funeral pyre!’ I yelled at his face, and struggled against the men holding me down. They let me go after Bero nodded at them heavily, and Dubbe was cursing me softly.

  Bero got up and nodded at the champions. They let Maino go. I saw Hulderic’s feverish eyes staring at me, disappointed beyond words, afraid and what he was thinking, I didn’t know. I was thinking hard. My thoughts were chaotic, desperate. I knew I was in trouble, and should hide like a mouse in a hole. And then Woden helped me and I froze. I walked to Aldbert who was gawking at me and I pulled him to the side. ‘Here is what you will do.’

  ‘I will bury you? Or start thinking about a funeral song for you as well? I’ll not—‘

  ‘You will not bury or make songs about me, but you will be my friend. As I have always helped you, so shall you help me now and in the future,’ I said and saw how he twitched at that and I told him what I needed. He smiled wryly and nodded, very unhappy with the chore, but still gleefully happy to do it. Then he left. I grabbed a mug of ale and sat down to stare at Maino’s ferocious eyes. I met Hughnot’s instead. And they were interested, too interested.

  He smiled at me and toasted. I looked away, but only for a while before I answered his toast with a nod.

  CHAPTER 7

  You can do it, I thought, sitting there, glowering at men who came to wish me luck, or to tell me goodbye. I was lying to myself, of course, because if my small ruse didn’t work, fighting Maino might very well leave me dead or a cripple, as Bero’s chilling words had predicted. ‘Gods, I should have stayed away from the Thing,’ I cursed under my breath. Most men present flocked to Maino, clapping his shoulders, honeying his ears with their support, pouring praise and encouragements over him, words he didn’t need. Many were young men, fawning on the man they saw as the champion to rival the fame of the greatest men in the tribe and many would, no doubt, hope to serve under Maino’s banner.

  And I had nobody on my side, save for some polite clients of Hulderic, giving me a sympathetic eye.

  It had ever been thus.

  I was no less promising a warrior in a shieldwall, a slayer of two chiefs, in truth probably a better leader, or at least I wanted to think so, but the thick-faced bastard Maino always charmed the lesser creatures with his confident boasts, arrogant blustering and outright threats. Few men cared to read hidden messages in men’s eyes, and few looked at mine twice.

  It would change.

  Like a hunter scraping a layer of rich fat from a fallen beast, the fools would soon glimpse what sturdy muscle lay beneath the surface of Maroboodus. They expected me to fight and to fall, and Woden’s prowess was expected of Maino. I heard them advise him. ‘Give him not one moment of peace,’ one drunk told him. ‘Drive him around like a two-legged dog,’ he added. I grinned. They expected him to be a brute and I would be the one he mauled.

  But I’d give them a feat worthy of Woden’s other side, his tricky side. Yes, great god’s trickery would prevail there instead of his rage and prowess.

  Unless, of course, Aldbert failed.

  Then I’d be kicked around like a dog, indeed.

  I prayed to Frigg, goddess of mercy that Aldbert would indeed help me with what I had asked for, instead of getting lost in his poems, or caught by a mug of ale and a smile from a pretty girl. It would be a perilous fight, dangerous, even if my friend managed what I wanted him to do because Bero had been right. He had surprised me with his accurate description of his son, the one claiming Maino was not all right in the head. He would possibly kill me. I’d use that very madness against the fool, but it would be dangerous.

  Time was spent on more flattery and I waited as Maino got ready. He was wearing chain-mail now, Cuthbert’s, a well-made, sturdy, strong, fitting armor that looked splendid on him. It had been the Saxon’s great treasure, and I could, somewhere deep inside, understand why Maino would do anything to gain it, even kick me out of his way. He wore a helmet of leather, with ring metal neck guard. That also was new and much like Hulderic’s. His shield was dark, glistening with grease, and had a fresh bear paw painted on it. In fact, so did Hulderic’s and Bero’s. And the champion’s, I realized to my rage.

  Not mine.

  They hadn’t bothered telling me about our new name and tribal symbol. Even after calling me the Bear, Hulderic had not told me anything about this Thing.

  So be it.

  I drank down mead, and eyed my cousin, trying to reason with the fear that was attempting to tear my composure apart. He was a champion. A berserker, a servant of Woden’s darker side and now even the vitka doted over him, hissing spells in his favor, though did not his father pay the vitka to do so? He would, to spare him.

  I looked like a peasant in comparison.

  I pulled off my tunic and cursed when I felt there was a hole in the sole of my simple shoe. I looked at my shield. The frame was sturdy. I had fixed the holes and slashes on the hide from the battle and my hasta was of a good quality, the iron blade sharpened after the battle. It had killed men. That’s all that mattered. No back-clapping, no spells by vitka, no—

  Hulderic pulled me around.

  I looked into his feverish eyes and he rubbed a hand across his sweaty face. ‘Father,’ I acknowledged his presence coolly.

  ‘Son,’ he whispered huskily.

  ‘I would—‘

  He interrupted me. ‘I’ll not ask why, boy. I’ll not try to reason with a simple mule. You did what you did, and I sense you meant to, all along. I hope you will understand one day why a father’s lot is the worst lot under the Sunna, and the Mani. To be a father to an ox-brained idiot like Maino must be a test of endurance most gods would fail to pass, and I never thought I’d be measured like Bero is, daily, but here I am, struggling not to whip your rear. I won’t because it will bleed soon, anyway.’

  ‘You asked for too much, Father,’ I told him honestly. ‘And thank you for not joining the crowd of Maino’s well-wishers. But maybe you should? For the alliance, eh? You go over there, Father, and tell him he shall win.’

  ‘I’m not his well-wisher, son,’ he told me miserably. ‘I’m sorry.’ He said it with a truly desperate voice, and I nodded before I could catch myself.

  ‘Think nothing of it. And I’m sorry I’m a mule, rather than a slave.’

  He poked me with a strong finger, and I noticed how men around us were now wagering on the outcome, some, the old hands at betting were eyeing me carefully, trying to hear what Father might be advising me with. Hulderic opened his mouth to give me some, but saw how people were leaning closer and whispered instead. ‘I’ve trained you. Tire him out. But do not kill him.’ He gave me a brave smile, but there was also sorrow in his eyes.

  He did not think I could win.

  ‘I’ll spare his life, but not his hide, Father,’ I told him after a moment’s consideration. ‘He’ll live. But he won’t enjoy his life after this night is over.’

  ‘At least you have spirit,’ he said. ‘Fight. And then we shall speak. You know of what,’ he growled.

  ‘Of Aldbert’s silly songs?’

  He froze. ‘He made a mockery of it?’

  ‘He isn’t much of a liar, Father,’ I told Hulderic with a sm
all grin, as Maino yelled a challenge to the gods, showing his spear to the people around him, who roared in support of him. Even Dubbe, the bastard, I noticed, who gave me a sheepish grin to indicate he was not serious.

  Hulderic hesitated and wiped his face as Maino’s friends exhorted their champion. ‘He is your only friend, is he not? Aldbert.’

  ‘He is, and do not ask him to lie to me again,’ I said and tried not to look at Maino, who was flexing his shoulders, now glancing at me like a dog would gaze at an unwary fox cub lost in the woods.

  ‘Here,’ Hulderic said heavily and handed me a weapon. It was wrapped in seal skin and I felt its weight. Inside, there was an ax. It had a sharp half-moon edge, a sturdy haft and a deadly iron spike on the end of the shaft. The grip was made of thick cow leather and it had been painted red. ‘I was going to give it to you after the battle. You can use a club, if you don’t want anything from me. Works just as well, I’m sure, but this is better. It belonged to a man who died defending Cuthbert.’ His eyes measured the chain mail of Maino disdainfully. ‘Not as good as that thing on him, but a very good weapon, son. Worthy of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Father,’ I told him uneasily. ‘You asked me not to kill him, and then you give me a butcher’s weapon?’

  There was a brief smile on his face and he shrugged. ‘It’s not a simple matter, is it? You will need it, whether you win or lose,’ he said sadly. ‘If you win, I will have to send you away and you shall need a good weapon. If you lose, use it with honor this night. May Woden walk with you.’

  Send me away? I’d do it myself, I thought. But there were tears in the corners of his eyes, and so I sighed, and drove away the resentment and anger and nodded at him gratefully. ‘Make more boys, Father. You are not too old yet. Erse might be a good one for you, no? Perhaps you should finally have her? Even if you promised Aldbert he could ask her as well.’

  He looked for Aldbert, who wasn’t there. ‘He wants her, did you know?’

  ‘I do know,’ I told him, ‘but Erse wants you. Make her a wife, and enjoy your life a bit.’

  ‘Now you are thinking of marrying me?’ he said and smiled and then sobered, nodding his head. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Good,’ I told him and got up. I embraced him briefly and pushed him away. Gods, let him understand what I will do, if I survive. I held the magnificent ax and stood there, alone. Maino’s eyes went to the weapon, and measured its worth. The beastlike, dull-looking creature was not entirely stupid, I reminded myself, but had a cunning of a hunting wolf as well as the brawn of a bear, but none of it mattered then. Men, even women were still making wagers. Only some shrewd older men or total fools were betting on me, so it was a one-sided affair. I saw how Ingo jogged to Hughnot’s side, and whispered something with a grin. Hughnot roared with laughter and gave me a vicious grin.

  ‘I’ll bet four fox furs on young Maroboodus there,’ he yelled and that got Maino’s full and undivided attention.

  ‘I take that bet,’ Bero said stiff with pride, though he avoided looking at me. I stared at Hughnot, and tried to push away the burst of gratitude for the great man who had quieted a sizable number of people in the crowd, though surely most thought he was just mad.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Hrolf yelled and I noticed he was looking at me. ‘We have no time to spare from the feasting. It will be a busy day tomorrow, anyways, with so many great things being decided. Like we think Maroboodus is the better man in this contest, tomorrow our reign shall begin, a sign for the better future of our people.’ And that silenced the crowd entirely.

  Bero was glowering and Hulderic stepped forward. ‘It is not a sign of the gods they support your claims, Hrolf, if my boy wins,’ he said.

  And Bero ruined it. ‘But he will not.’

  ‘We shall see!’ Hrolf laughed and pointed a finger at me. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘I am,’ I said sternly, hoping my voice would not break. I tucked the ax to my belt and grabbed my spear and shield.

  ‘He’s not,’ Maino snorted. ‘He’s like a spent arrow, no flight left in him. Let us go and I’ll break his sorry neck.’

  I nodded at them arrogantly and turned away and stomped to the darkness. ‘Let’s do this under the gaze of Friednot, eh?’

  ‘Why not here, pup?’ Maino yelled after me, but took steps to follow, anyway.

  ‘Because I want the dead and the Saxons, no doubt staring through the cracks in the walls, see how Maino gets his pride stripped like a maiden loses her virginity on her wedding night,’ I laughed and went on, and people agreed it was the best place for the fight, since most cheered wildly. I cursed myself for mentioning a virgin and a wedding night, since our fight would also decide the fate of the girl.

  I would not steal her away if I lost a limb. Or my life.

  I walked first, headed for the harbor. The villagers followed, muttering, laughing and the air was practically rippling with excitement. If anything, the fight had driven out the worry from their minds, made them forget the strife between the Black Goths and us, but Hrolf had made it a prophetic event, Bero had agreed with his pride at stake, and so it was as if the gods would decide the outcome of the battle, and that would also affect the Thing’s decision. It would be harsh work for Bero and Father to make sure the nobles of Marka and the surrounding villages of wavering loyalties would support Bero’s claim to be the Thiuda without me beating Maino.

  I clutched my spear and shield so hard I was afraid they might break. We passed halls and their vegetable gardens, a small patch of oaks, walked down well-trodden paths and saw the Bone-Hall very soon and some excited dogs chased after us, yapping hysterically. Maino was walking close now, and I heard him whispering. I resisted the urge to make sure he was not close enough to attack me from behind again, and kept looking ahead. He was likely praying to the gods, begging to receive a vicious rage, a killer’s state of mind as the battle began, and he probably prayed Hel would make a toothpick of my bones. ‘Will you ignore me, Maroboodus?’ he finally snickered. ‘Will you not grace me with your pretty eyes. Star-Flower will. She will look at my face for years to come, above her in the bed.’

  ‘Star-Flower?’ I spat. ‘Surely she has a proper woman’s name?’

  ‘She might,’ Maino allowed. ‘I—‘

  ‘She will not share it with you,’ I said spitefully, ‘because she will not have the vitka bless your marriage and have her real name soiled by such a travesty. She reserves it for me.’

  ‘She might blurt it out, though,’ Maino said spitefully, with spittle flying, ‘when I bed her. It will be exciting for her, won’t it?’

  And with that, I was not afraid any longer. I looked his way, felt a call, a savage need, a bloody craving to fight him and wished for the gods to give him some luck so it would not end quickly. I didn’t need any. He would.

  I had made mine.

  I arrived before the Bone-Hall. The funeral pyre was still flaming gently, the heat from the furnace of glowing coals nearly overwhelming if you ventured too close, and some did, to glimpse the remains of Grandfather. But I was not interested in Grandfather’s blackened bones. My eyes sought out Aldbert and I spied him by the doorway to Grandfather’s former hall. He stood to the side, behind some confused slaves and nearly jumped up and down as he tried to catch my eye, until he hit his head on the prow of a former ship. He massaged a painful lump and pointed at a muddy mattock and winked at me. I turned to look at the battlefield and walked over to stand with my back to the pyre, and felt my clothes warm against my skin. I welcomed it as my eyes sought the battle ground. The villagers slowly filled the area and Aldbert helpfully began pushing them so they would form a tight circle around us. Maino pushed through to stand before me, ten paces away. It all took time, as the people filtered to find places, the warriors in the fore, the best shields blocking our way out and I admit it was a strangely honorable, exhilarating feeling as they stared at us over the rims of their shields, painted with devices they had carried to the battle. While many of them had p
reviously been betting against me and had been vocally supporting Maino, now they were quiet. Bero was there, frowning and nervous, Hulderic appeared as well and Hughnot came to stand opposite them, pushing some of the lesser men back so he and Hrolf would find a place to stand.

  I turned my eyes to Maino. He stared back at me, and I was gratified to see he was not brimming with confidence. His eyes glowed and danced with the fire that reflected from the former pyre behind me. He sweated, he trembled, and he looked anxious as a small girl. Even the bravest fear, no matter if they face a worm or a real man and Maino was not certain what I was, despite his arrogant posturing. He remembered me from the battle, and I had not been a weakling then, and he knew it.

  The baldheaded vitka appeared and danced between us, and I cursed profusely under my breath as his feet stomped the ground. He was whooping, praying and cursing and he squinted at the sky, as if trying to fathom if the wolves chasing Mani across the sky would give the fight their gracious attention. A bank of clouds filled the sky and I chuckled as the vitka’s face turned into a confused frown. He stopped dancing, standing over a tall tuft of grass in the otherwise pristine field, and called out. ‘Gods will see, gods will hear and let them judge the unworthy one fairly. Donor bless this fight, may Woden give your spears speed and Freya, the Red Lady fill your hearts with savagery. Fight, fight!’

  ‘Father?’ Maino asked gutturally.

  ‘Try not to kill your cousin,’ Bero said softly. ‘But beat him to mud for your honor.’ His voice betrayed his fear Maino would not oblige and try to kill me. Or that he would fail.

  ‘I wish the same,’ Hulderic said, even if most of the villagers quaffed. Dubbe, and Sigmundr swelled at the indignity and disrespect they gave me, but I did not care. Harmod, the wisest of Father’s men, shook his head at me, and his eyes scourged the battlefield, and a small smile lit up his face. I looked away from him, but I was sure he had figured out what surprise I had planned to make Maino’s evening painful and shameful.

 

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