‘I hope he chokes on a bone,’ I said, relieved. ‘Right. Let’s forget plots,’ I whispered. ‘We go in to the room, and gag and tie the servant there. If the girl screams, I’ll gag her, and we hurry up. Then we run like whipped hounds with the girl.’
‘Right,’ he answered, his voice dripping with terror and doubt. ‘Whipped hounds.’
I entered the hallway, and it was nearly dark. There were no shingles or fires at all in the empty rooms, and I frowned at the lack of light. Surely, the high Svea woman didn’t sit in the dark on a feast night? The flickering of light behind us in the main hall threw our shadows to the corridor and I noticed Aldbert was still standing in the doorway. I turned to look at him, gesturing with my sword. I whispered frantically. ‘Come, now.’
‘I’m sorry—‘ he began to say, his voice shaky and sorry indeed.
A shadow moved out of Maino’s room and a hand grabbed me and for a moment I thought the servant lady had unleashed an attack on me.
Then I realized it was not a hand of an old, frail servant, but the iron-hard hand of a warrior, and that hand pushed me to a wall, and for a moment I saw the snarling visage of Friednot’s champion, Ludovicus, his hair flying as he kept me still. ‘And here we are, master Maroboodus, a woman-stealing bastard, caught like a rat. You will not—‘
He had not seen the sword. And I didn’t think, but acted.
Despite its cumbersome make, the weapon pushed easily into his exposed throat. His eyes enlarged with pain and surprise, his hands clutched me, then his throat, and he gurgled, and spat blood and fell on his back with a clatter, inside Maino’s room and his feet thrummed the floorboards so hard hay and dust made a thick cloud in the air. I stared at the man, and I knew he was gone. He might have breathed still, terribly afraid and very much fighting for his life, but he was a dead one. I held my face with one hand, the sword with another and fought to get my thoughts under control.
Murderer, a voice told me without pity.
Another fought it. No, a warrior. I tried to listen to the second one, but also knew I had done something that would haunt me forever. I kept reasoning with myself, though panic crept in. Isn’t this what I had planned to do with the Svea? To cull Goths who would stand against my father and me? However, it was all much more real now.
I had killed a hero. A good man.
I turned to look at Aldbert, at his shocked face. ‘Aldbert?’ I said unsteadily. ’What is this?’
He shook his head and took a hesitant step forward. ‘I didn’t know …’ he began, but then kept his mouth shut as he tried to gauge my mood, which I didn’t know myself.
It took time, but I forced myself to move my feet. Evil or necessary, I thought, it was now past time to hesitate. I had killed a man in the Bone-Hall, and while I could be judged by the law-speakers, elders and condemned by the vitka and the völva for my schemes, a murder would be a hard matter to overcome in the minds of the people. Ludovicus had family. There would be a feud, no matter if Hulderic paid a hefty wergild and that wergild could be so high we could very well starve during the winter. He had been a great, famous man, no peasant, no slave, and I was in trouble. ‘You didn’t know?’ I asked Aldbert. ‘He said I’m woman-stealing—‘
He shook his head and waved his hands and I wanted to slap the truth out of him. He might be lying, but I had no time to force the issue. If I did, I felt I might murder him as well. He spoke so fast I could barely make out the words. ‘I … you should have guessed they’d have a guard here, one who doesn’t dash off to douse fires. I warned you. I knew this would go sour, and—’ he said, his voice rising to a pitch close to panic as he looked behind me.
There was light in the corridor.
The Svea woman, her thin eyebrows, smooth, pale skin, and well-proportioned face all betrayed shock at the sight of the twitching legs. She looked at me, then at my sword and I was sure she’d scream. She considered it, I saw it. She took a long breath, but let it go after all and took a step forward.
‘You are Maroboodus?’ she asked steadily.
‘Yes,’ I said huskily. ‘I came—‘
‘I know,’ she answered huskily, considering me. ‘You didn’t expect him?’
‘It was an accident. The dark, he lunged for me. I didn’t mean to—‘
She said nothing but I saw her face relaxing. ‘I can understand it. But it’s done. It’s his wyrd, and behind you. You must run. And I’ll go with you.’
‘Was there a woman guarding you?’ I asked her nervously, eyeing the dark rooms for a sign of danger.
‘Was,’ she said softly, and I noticed her fist was bruised. ‘I wasn’t going to get married to that ox of a relative of yours so I would have tried an escape on my own. She lives. I tied her down. I’m not sure I needed rescuing, but a generous heart should be rewarded. I can take you with me.’
‘Take me with you?’ I asked her, astonished. She had more balls than some men. ‘You are kind.’
‘Yes, I’ll save you,’ she said with a hint of humor, smiling like a wicked spirit and perhaps there was some truth to the stories of Svea and spirits mating in the night. Then her eyes turned to Aldbert.
She went still, silent, unsure.
It was an awkward silence, but she finally pointed a finger at Aldbert. ‘And him?’ she asked me. ‘There’s something seedy about him. Something familiar, but also hidden.’
I considered my friend. ‘He can stay if he wants to,’ I told her, and shrugged at Ludovicus. ‘This was an accident. He can explain it, when they come to ask about me.’ I said it harshly, for I didn’t believe it was an accident. He had tried to make me stay, had spoken to Father, perhaps to Bero and they had left the champion there to wait for me. I didn’t look at Aldbert, but I knew he was so rattled, he likely shook in his shoes.
‘They’ll geld him, Maroboodus,’ she said with a smirk. ‘It will be messy since he quakes so much.’
I felt disappointed and worried for him, but decided she could be right. ‘Are you coming?’ I asked him harshly. ‘Or shall you stay and explain why he died?’
‘I am coming,’ Aldbert answered softly. ‘You should come with me. I’ll take you to Timberscar—‘
‘She is taking me with her, Aldbert,’ I told him sarcastically. ‘We shall travel with her, and she’s not going to Timberscar.’
‘Very well, friend,’ Aldbert said and pointed at the man who had now stopped twitching. ‘I swear I didn’t know … I couldn’t have known—‘
‘Where are we going?’ the girl interrupted his futile explanations. ‘Since we travel together now.’
‘I’ll take you home,’ I told her, tearing my eyes off Aldbert, suspicious, angry, and guilty for the death of the great man. He had been there, hiding in Maino’s room. And Aldbert had hung back.
‘I know you will,’ she said with a strange, cold smile. ‘But now? Horses? What’s the plan?’
I stared at her for a moment, wondering at how confident she was. Her eyes were clear as the stars, and she nodded to coax an answer out of me. ‘I’m in a proper fix. I’m fleeing my father and the … Bear Goths. But the Black Goths expect me to come with them. I’m not. It’s just you and me, and him.’ I nodded at Aldbert and she frowned at the thought. ‘I think we need some men.’
‘They would slow us down,’ she said. ‘Best just rush. I know the woods.’
‘But if there will be fighting, wouldn’t it be best to rush with a band of men?’
She considered this and her face screwed with suspicion. ‘You have such men? You don’t look like a lord with oaths men. And adeling, and powerless one?’
‘I killed your captor and his chief. And … him.’ I nodded at Ludovicus.
‘Power, experience, and wealth are a different issue. Ability in battle is not the same as power and fame,’ she said with asperity. ‘You have no men, right?’
‘I know some desperate ones who would probably help us get you there safe. Though you might not like them.’
She blinked and her
head cocked, and then she understood what I had been planning. ‘You don’t mean the Saxons?’ she whispered.
‘They would help, I’m sure, if we help them get home,’ I said. ‘I’ll fetch them and meet you.’
She chuckled and shook her head. ‘They are Saxons.’
‘They must appreciate the fact they won’t hang, no?’ We could use men,’ I said forcefully and she gave in.
‘Fine, you bull-headed fool. Your Aldbert and I shall meet you wherever it was you had agreed on and you get these …men. But I don’t want him armed.’ She was looking at the ax on Aldbert’s belt. I grunted with agreement, turned to Aldbert, and walked to him.
I poked a finger on his chest and he flinched as he saw my hand was bloody. ‘If she is not safely taken to the end of the beach, under the woods, I’ll not be happy, Aldbert. You be there, waiting.’
His eyes looked at me long and hard, and he was biting his lip, his eyes venturing to the girl. ‘She’ll be there. So will I.’
‘And I’ll have that,’ I told him, and grabbed the ax from his belt, and he looked away in shame. I hesitated, gave the ax to the girl and she took it, with wonder in her eyes. The weapon suited her. ‘He will still have a spear,’ I told her with some concern, but she shrugged.
‘As he said, I’ll be there,’ she told me forcefully. ‘And so will he. And if he tries something with his spear, I’ll cut off his balls.’
Aldbert opened his mouth to protest the sudden reversal of roles, but I was still suspicious of his role at all, so I didn’t care. I moved to the hall, eyed the shadows, and nodded at them. ‘Horses, and I’ll be there soon. Right?’
‘Right,’ Aldbert said and pointed to the door. She passed us, eyed the shadows like a fox looking for dangers, and looked back.
‘Be careful,’ she said with a smile and disappeared into the darkness, Aldbert in tow. I gave a last glance to the bloody hallway where all my doors had closed.
CHAPTER 10
I crossed a vegetable garden, slipping on something cold and rotten, pushed away a docile dog that was too nosy for its own good, young as it was, jumped over a well-concealed cellar and finally saw the hall. It was on the south edge of the village, near the harbor, like most of the important buildings. It would be half filled with poor Saxons formerly oath-bound to Cuthbert. I navigated shrubs, flitted from tree to tree like a cattle-thief, and then I spied the doorway to the hall. There was a man guarding it, though he too looked restless. He was fidgeting, clearly worried and wondering, and he walked to the corner of the hall every now and then to gawk at the white smoke that filled the night sky and he cursed audibly at the screams of men, who were trying to save the hall. Happily, it had been a wet month, so the sparks would not easily light the roofs, but Hughnot’s rogues would have done a good job and it was not likely to be put out anytime soon, if at all. I walked in the deepest shadows, praying the gods to heed my needs that night, positioning myself so I could see the man better, and the door.
It was latched. There was a heavy bar blocking it, but nothing else. The warrior came back to the doorway, then walked to the other side of the hall, gazed at the sea, then stopped to stare at the boats, trying to decide if we were under attack.
I would have to kill him.
I had just killed, but the thought made my belly churn with despair. He was a young man, his blond beard long and the Suebian knot was haphazardly tied. He walked back to the door, took a swig from a horn that had been set by the wall and put his spear away. Then he walked to the woods, towards me. I crouched as the man came forth and for a terrified moment, I thought he had seen me.
‘Donor’s lathered balls,’ I cursed under my breath. The man came to stand very near. I trembled with anticipation as he untied his pants and bent down to sit amidst the shrubs. He was taking a jotun-sized shit, judging by the smell that permeated the air. I wrinkled my nose as he voided himself and felt bad for the fact I was about to interrupt his happy moment, but perhaps he would live, if he didn’t fight. I sneaked forward, saw him there, holding his head with both hands, and then I kicked his back as hard as I could. His lungs emptied of air with a wheezing sound, he farted loudly and flew forward with a hoarse yell of surprise, and I was over him in an instant. He struggled briefly, writhing in pain, but then he saw the blade twinkling in the light next to his eye, resting on his throat. ‘What—‘
‘Move, and you take your next shit into a silver bucket in Asgaard,’ I hissed. ‘Do not move, and you will live to take another one later here in our world. Remember how fine it felt? You can have that again. Shout, and me and my friend here,’ I said, and decided to name the sword there, thinking it looked as dangerous as the beasts of the goddess Hel, ‘Hel’s Delight, will take your guts and trail them behind us as we run away, and that will not feel as pleasant as a good shit, my friend. Can’t fix ripped guts, no.’ I pressed the cold iron on his neck and he stiffened. ‘Hands behind your back.’ He obeyed and I took his rope belt, and spent too much time as I tied him tightly. While I did, I endured the stench, and begged I had not stepped in any of his excrement. ‘Gods, man, what have you eaten?’ I cursed as I bound his knees and ankles together.
‘Soup,’ he whispered. ‘It was something with lentils and it was somewhat rancid. I’m not rich.’ I patted his head and then gagged him with his tunic and made sure he could not easily hop away.
I got up, and knew I was trembling with fear as I eyed the door. I approached it and hesitated, and then I lifted the bar, which was a bit stuck, and threw it aside after a small struggle.
I stepped in.
Inside there were shingles burning in the fire pit. There was a smell of farts and sour ale drifting on the air, as well as the stench of unwashed bodies. There was also the stink of rotten wounds and I looked carefully around as eighteen men, shadows really, got up and two remained lying down. They were a gangly, savage lot, unkempt and perhaps afraid, but like a wolf might fear, ready to claw and savage the one trying to hurt it. Most were strong from their time in oars, calloused and callous Germani, and formerly covered with riches and fame. The beastlike crew stared at me with uncertain frowns, most looking over my shoulder expecting to see armed men come in after me, but none came and it puzzled them. They must have thought about this scene a dozen times an hour, waiting to be taken out to be judged, sacrificed, sold, and generally dealt with. Few would go home. I briefly bit my lip as I stepped forward, trying to hold my composure and the sword, Hel’s Delight, was on my side. One, a Saxon with curly, long hair stepped forward, glancing at the blade greedily. Thieves, the lot of them, I thought. Perhaps the girl had been right. ‘Are you,’ the Saxon asked with a spiteful voice, ‘here to find sacrifices for your feast? We are oar-bound men, tough as iron. Saxons, boy, that’s what we are and well should you know we don’t bend down for rutting. None shall volunteer, so you will have to—’
‘Who is the leader amongst you?’ I asked and cursed as I spoke too quickly. Our accents were close, we could speak, but I didn’t want to sound like a fool to them. I needed their respect. They might find Ludovicus at any moment, I thought frantically, and so I slapped my blade on my thigh. ‘Well?’ I demanded.
They whispered amongst themselves. Finally, the curly-haired man stepped forward and thumbed his chest. ‘Ceadda. That is I. I lead them, for now. I fought for a champion of the dead lord and I am the best of them.’ His eyes crossed and he looked like a dog as he sniffed the air, smelling my sweat, but perhaps also my fear and hesitation. ‘You are a Marcomanni. A pup?’
I balled my fist and he grinned in the dark. He had a thick beard, I noticed, and a rich belt, that had not been taken from him and that meant he was likely a brave man indeed, one who was given some measure of respect and dignity, even in a hall turned prison. ‘Yes, I’m young. But if you wish to insult me, at least call me the Pup.’
He thumbed the north wall. ‘We saw you. No disrespect meant. We were looking from the cracks as you fought. You downed that ugly berserker, right?’
‘It was a good hole,’ I growled and they all laughed like a pack of demented spirits, and none judged me for the hole. They were raiders, and even if honor and fame were as important to them as they were to our people, these men had fewer scruples than ours and accepted that many ways lead to glory.
‘That is Njord,’ Ceadda said. ‘My brother. I think he is, and Father claimed it is so, despite the way he looks, misshapen and ugly. Gods piss on some of us, and bless others.’
Njord spat on the floor, and he did look strange, with large white teeth and thick lips and he certainly didn’t look like Ceadda, though they clearly loved each other well. ‘What do you want, pup?’ Njord asked, his eyes large. ‘Got lost?’
‘I am not lost,’ I said steadily, trying to keep the situation under my control, which was of course as likely as stopping the tide with a prayer and a wish. ‘I am the son of Hulderic the Goth, lord of the … Bear Goths and I killed your chief in the battle, perhaps two. I threw a spear at Cuthbert, and while I didn’t finish him, he was grievously wounded. I—‘
‘Floundered in mud as that Maino killed our lord. Being a fool, pup, is what you were,’ Ceadda said. ‘Not sure why you come here to tell us you are the one who took our future? Come to clear your conscience?’
I fumed for a moment and then went on. ‘I have none. I also slew a chief who killed Friednot. I killed him when he ran into my spear.’
‘Did he see the spear?’ Njord asked with amusement, chuckling and I didn’t bother answering and turned to Ceadda instead.
I nodded to the north wall. ‘And yea, I fought Maino. I tell you these things, because I want you to know who stands before you. I’m young, but I have done well. Woden wouldn’t spit on my face, should I proclaim my deeds to him—‘
Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) Page 17
