‘There’s mead in there,’ Aldbert murmured. ‘Warmth.’
‘Gravemound is warm, our vitka always says,’ Njord said while staring at the hills. ‘Under all that dirt, grass, mud, your bones don’t get cold and—’
‘Shut up,’ Ceadda said and fidgeted as he gazed across the land. We were again on a small hill and silvery, glistening streams ran around the hillside, providing us with cold water. We had waded in them for a long time, leaving our legs and feet numb and white, near frostbitten. Despite the fact, and no matter how tired we were, we packed up and moved on. We walked for an hour, and the Sunna was getting lower in the sky. We traveled between some hills, until we climbed one to see where we were when Ceadda stopped us on the summit, and we froze and dismounted.
The reason was a pack of feral-looking hounds led by well-armed Goths not too far to the west. All eyes were drawn to the moving column of men trekking another hillside we would have passed soon. I was sure I saw Gasto, his strong, red shield, and long blond hair evident even from so far, and I thought I saw his thick braided beard swinging as he stroked a sleek beast, and I felt shivers of fear running down my spine. The man and his companions weren’t too near; but I also saw his men were spreading the dogs on the hillside, all across it, and slowly they were making their way toward the north and Long-Lake, hoping the beasts would catch our scent. The rest of the war party we could not see, but they wouldn’t be too far. They were fishing for clues, not sure where the school of fish was, drawing nets across murky waters and then tightening the noose, and if they caught us, it would be our end.
‘Why aren’t the Svea here to chase them off?’ Njord said bitterly. ‘It’s their land, no? Screw them. Humping their cows, no doubt.’
Saxa sighed. ‘Not many Svea live here. Most live over the Three Forks rivers and west of it. This is contested land. And some Svea hump their Saxon slaves, so you should be careful with what you say.’
‘The dogs will be the end of us,’ Ceadda growled and turned to look at Saxa. ‘Can your Agin chase them off? How many men does he have?’
She shrugged. ‘Yes, he can, I think. We have to warn him as well as save our hides. The Goths won’t dare to come to a Svea village. They should avoid Svearna just like we try to avoid them, because there are thousands of our people living over there in the west, even if it takes days to gather our spears.’
‘There are a hundred of the Goths. Perhaps more,’ Njord said, and looked like he enjoyed sharing bad news. ‘Sure they dare to attack a village. We marched across both Goth and Svea lands to do that. Of course, we are braver than most Goths, but—’
‘They can try, then,’ Saxa said stubbornly. ‘We are not cowards. And we won’t be surprised as the day when your shit-footed Cuthbert attacked us.’
‘I’ll feel better with a deck under my feet,’ Ceadda said and nodded, taking a ragged breath. ‘Let’s see what happens, then,’ he mumbled. ‘And we are not Saxons if anyone asks. We are just fools serving Maroboodus, destitute and stupid, hoping to gain a ship for a way home, the islands of the East. We won’t speak much, and Njord especially will keep his dumb mouth shut, preferably for good.’
‘Will you let me open it for a meal?’ Njord answered. ‘Surely the Svearna feed us before they kill us?’
Ceadda ignored him. ‘You do the speaking bit, lady. Do it well. We’ll wait until they move on.’ He nodded at the hill where Goths were now crossing to the valley below us, and some began moving north. ‘Hope they don’t leave anyone behind.’
‘They will, but we will go quickly,’ I said, sure we would get caught. ‘We’ll be safe in a bit, hours from now. When we get to the rivers, it shall be all right. You will be rewarded. You might be a pack of ugly men, but loyal, like mangy dogs, and they’ll love you for it.’
‘Not all dogs are loyal,’ Njord said. ‘One bit my son a month ago. Had a bad day, probably. There was this bitch—’
Saxa slapped him, and we waited.
It took an hour, more, and then they had moved off.
‘Let’s go, then,’ Ceadda said and off we went. We guided the horses down the hillside, taking care not to leave tracks, but it was impossible to avoid them, of course. ‘They seem bent on catching you, boy,’ he whispered to me. ‘They’ll not rest before they do. I do wonder if this Agin’s up to the task. They’ll be back as soon as you push the Goths out.’
‘There will be winter. Let them stay. Hope they enjoy it,’ I smiled. ‘All we need is some time. Spring will be full of hope.’
‘Full of mud, usually. We will row out in the night, but you are fucked. They will come in one night, come back and find you. It will not end well at all, no.’ He gazed at me and seemed to have made up his mind on something he had been pondering. ‘You are welcome to come with us. And her. I’m starting to like her. Unless we get killed, of course. Then I don’t like her at all. But she’ll be all right. She’ll live through nearly anything that will take place in the village, no doubt. Valuable she is.’ He blushed as he said it, and said nothing more of the matter, but I clapped my hand on his shoulder in gratitude.
We passed the hills, saw the track of the Goths and not one man looked calm and composed. We walked on under shadows, the horses kept quiet for the most part, and we didn’t see anyone. If they had guards on the hill, they were asleep.
Except for one man.
While we trekked on a trail, with tall ferns hiding the woods around us, something moved in the dark. It could have been a wolf, or a fox, or any night animal for that matter, but I saw shadows move, and Mani’s light revealed a figure for just a moment, a man on a horse, and he whipped the beast hard as he noticed he had been seen. A Saxon yelled a warning, but the Goth rode wildly in the dark, passing the scout. I turned my horse and rode after him. My hair was flying, I couldn’t see branches and several whipped my face painfully, but somewhere, up ahead a Goth was going fast. He was probably trying to find his camp, where they waited for news, and I had to catch him fast. Scald was clearly happy for the hunt, his ears twisted back as we rushed on, and I hoped I’d find my way back. The shadowy rider had to veer to the side, and then his horse crashed into a stream, and he was encouraging it to go faster. I went after him, nearly yelled as the freezing cold water splashed all over me, but rammed my calves to the sides of Scald.
There was a dark lump of something ahead, twisted, like frozen snakes in the middle of the river. The man before me eased his speed, and I knew why when another Goth appeared, his Suebian knot bouncing as he rode up to the shallow river’s edge. ‘What is it?’ he yelled.
The man I had been chasing was out of breath. He pointed his spear at me. ‘He … Maroboodus!’
And so I had to charge.
Scald went in fast. I felt Hel’s Delight in my fist, and it was sturdy and trustworthy, even if the ride was rough. The Goth I had been chasing cursed and pushed his horse amidst the strange, snake-like things growing out of the river, and I realized it was an old, rotten hull.
Rotten hull? Another warning? Warning of a path to misery, as Aldbert had said, I thought, but then had no time to think any more, as the other Goth charged at me from the side. I saw his face, lean face, long beard, and his fear as well, but in he came, reaching for Scald with his spear. I instinctively slapped the weapon with my sword, and it went down and lunged at the mass of the man. He screamed and fell, but his horse crashed into mine, and I fell as well.
I flailed in the water under the hooves of the horse until eventually I got up, wiping water from my face, and saw a man sitting on the shore, his breath billowing in a thin mist.
That was not the other Goth, however.
That man was behind me.
A spear shaft crushed me to his chest as he pulled it under my chin. He fell back, held on tight, and I saw dark spots. Water got into my mouth as we dropped deeper, and he didn’t let go. He was strong, young, and I tried to flail behind with Hel’s Delight, but couldn’t hit him, and I knew I was in trouble.
Something spla
shed nearby. I felt the man holding me relax his grip, probably because he was surprised, and then he screamed as something hit him. I could feel the strength of the strike. I pulled out from his grasp, held on to my throat, and got to my knees, pushing at Scald to move, and found Saxa, her hair wet, removing an ax from the Goth’s skull. She was grunting as she heaved, and managed to extract it, and then she gave me a long look, one of concern, as her eyes took in the surroundings, looking for more trouble.
We were silent. Nothing moved. I turned to see if the man who had been sitting on a horse on the bank was still there, and he was. I growled and moved for him, and saw it was Aldbert. He was staring at the hull. He pointed a finger at it. ‘Another one. It was in my lines, no?’
‘Maybe?’ I said and leaned on the rotten, skeletal timber jutting from the river. ‘You didn’t help me.’
‘I’m no fighter,’ he said weakly. ‘I froze.’
‘She is, though,’ I nodded at Saxa. The Saxons were running near now, calling to each other, and some were in the river, not far.
Saxa was looking at us, careful, perhaps shocked, as she eyed the dead Goth. She shrugged. ‘Your friend wanted you captured. We will have to deal with him when we get where we are going.’
‘I suppose that is right,’ I said, feeling numb for my friend who kept letting me down. He didn’t meet my eyes.
The Saxons were there, their eyes gleaming as they took in the dead, and quickly they relieved the Goths of their weapons. Ceadda looked up and down the river and then at us, sensing not all was well but said nothing about that. Instead, he pointed his spear to what I thought was west. ‘Let’s go. They will miss these men soon enough.’
I turned away, wondering at the signs. There had been twigs, the skull, and now a rotten hull. I felt I had passed a point of no return after I turned west, but Saxa rode there next to me, and I looked at her and knew I’d risk any curse and spell to get her. ‘Thank you.’
She smiled. ‘I used to chop wood. Wasn’t much different, really.’
We pushed on. A startled moose raised its head, and a squirrel was complaining high in the woods, making our men jumpy. Saxa was on her horse, looking back and forth, like a warrior queen with her ax, and the Saxons approved with a smacking of their lips as she kicked Njord out of the way as she rode back a bit. ‘Seen anything? Anyone after us? They probably should have found they have some Goths missing.’
I began to answer, but Ceadda gave a wry smile and nudged me. ‘She wasn’t talking to you.’ He turned to Saxa. ‘He’s blind as a bat. Never seen anything.’
‘He’s my Goth, nonetheless,’ she smiled. ‘He fought well. Like I did.’
‘Yeah, you suit each other. A murderous pair of lovers, eh?’ Ceadda said.
‘Tell us about the village,’ I asked. ‘Is it fortified?’
She nodded. ‘No, not that sort of a village. Spears and shields are the walls. The village is called the “Wolf Hole” and the leader is indeed a huge man, Agin. They trade black fox furs there. Most Svear are welcome there, but not Father and his men. My brother didn’t go to him this year for the Thing of the clans but fought his ideas. Instead of marrying me to the Goths, he would have wanted to keep—’
‘Killing Goths?’ Ceadda snickered. ‘This is a man who will join in your plan to unify the two nations?’
She smiled and lifted an apologetic eyebrow at me. ‘Yes. He didn’t agree because he hates Father and loves me. He’d do anything to see me happy. He hates most Goths, but we do trade with some.’
We made our way across a dark valley, and rode and ran in thick pine woods, took routes over vast cliffs and heather fields, and before the Sunna was dragged to the sky, Saxa informed we were close to the Three Forks and the lake. We smelled smoke, saw an occasional fur-garbed hunter who stopped to stare at the unusual procession. Then, in an hour, we spotted a party of fur-clad Svea that had apparently been looking for us. Saxa waved her hand at the group of white and gray fur-draped warriors on well-built horses, and they galloped off after scrutiny of our numbers and weapons. ‘Soon,’ Aldbert said. ‘We will find out if she is true.’
‘Or if her brother loves to kill Goths for the fun of it,’ I said and looked at Ceadda. ‘And Saxons, of course.’ Njord spat in disgust, but we went on.
We closed in on one of the Three Forks, a river that streamed south, and crossed it at a shallow spot Saxa knew well, and then, as soon as the last horse rose from the river, we heard the Goths.
There was the barking of the dogs.
The terrifying baying came from the south and then the east. Ceadda turned and whistled, and a Saxon scout ran to us, looking terrified. Ceadda cursed. ‘No more than half an hour away. They doubled back and picked up the scent. They have us now, and won’t tarry.’
‘Run,’ Saxa said and nodded towards the lake shore and hopefully, the village soon after.
And then Agin appeared.
They appeared out of the woods like trouble follows a lie. They seemed to belong amidst the stones and leaves and a man riding deep in his thoughts might have considered them part of the scenery. There were fifty men holding shields of sturdy make, most fur covered, with crude talismans hanging from the rims and their spears were long and thick, well made and the spearpoints broad and deadly-looking. They had a wild, barely man-like look about them as they loped from the woods and the man leading them could have passed for a young bear. His beard was long and unruly, thick and curly and his chest was as wide as Scald. He carried a wicked, one-edged ax over his shoulder and had a frown on his face that would have stopped a charging boar and sent it scurrying away.
Then he spied his sister.
The frown disappeared like fog in the morning.
His face lit up with surprise, relief, and happiness, and he took uncertain steps forward until his men stopped him. Saxa whipped her horse, and it surged for them, and she left us standing like men taking a leak, unable to move. ‘Grab her!’ Ceadda said softly, but Njord couldn’t get to the horse and fell on his face as he tried. We stared at her back and huddled together instinctively and finally stood in an unimpressive rank, eyeing the woman warily as she whooped, rode into the group of men and jumped down to bury herself in Agin’s hug.
‘I bet that is her husband,’ Aldbert complained.
‘If that is the case, they will roast lord Pup for his plans to whelp babies on her,’ Ceadda said with a nervous smile. ‘He will put that ax in our friend’s rear and pull it out through his mouth. Will be a sight to remember. Though I’m sure, it’s not the only rear that will see that blade. How big is that man?’
‘Big all around,’ Njord said with a twisted smile. ‘I hope he is not into Saxon.’
Saxa was released from the hug, and she was now gesturing at us, and I would have given my left nut to hear what she was telling the huge man. If she told them to kill us, I’d die a fool, and we would not escape, no matter if I brought the Saxons to make sure I’d survive. If she were what she claimed to be, in love, I’d be married to a powerful Svea woman in a very short time, and that would certainly change things for all of us. The baying dogs didn’t help the anxiety. Agin was listening to her with a tilted head, and his eyes instinctively sought me out. I straightened my back and gave him a small bow, but not a deep one. Then his face melted into a ferocious scowl, and I feared Ceadda’s estimation of our demise might be right, and I cursed myself for not giving a deeper bow. She pointed beyond us where the dogs bayed, and finally, the large man nodded and gave orders to some of his men, who looked at him with open mouths and then ran off. Agin gestured us closer, and we looked at each other until Njord pushed Ceadda on, Ceadda pulled him with him and so we all went forward, looking at Saxa and Agin like a pack of scared puppies, hoping for kind cuddles and loving attention, and we all gave Agin’s ax long glances. The Saxons were rumbling something, and I was about to warn them to keep their warlike prayers in check when I realized they were just praying for deliverance. Had they not raided the people not so long a
go? Perhaps Agin’s villages as well. It was not so far to where Saxa had lived, was it?
My fears turned out to be unfounded.
Saxa bowed at me. ‘This is the man I was telling you about.’
‘Indeed?’ Agin said dubiously. ‘Red-headed, sturdy, and has a look on his face that suggests the head is not just a decoration? Where is his beard?’
‘He shaves it,’ she said apologetically. ‘He’ll learn. He has cunning,’ she said with a fond smile at me. ‘He is brave. And he—’
‘Yes, yes. The others, though. Thick like mules. The lot look like they use their skulls to grind barley, no?’
Njord opened his mouth, Ceadda slapped him, and the Saxons stayed quiet.
Saxa was glowering at her brother who smiled and leaned over her to whisper, except he didn’t, and I could hear every word. ‘You sure? Cunning and brave aside, he doesn’t look any different from any of the Goth bastards we string up like pinecones every year.’
‘Can’t help being a thieving Goth, can he?’ Saxa beamed at the large man, happy and strangely wild and I found she was much different amongst the people she trusted than with the Goths. ‘And I’ll have him, nonetheless.’
‘You don’t have to, you know. You don’t need to, now that you are here and—’
‘It’s what I want,’ Saxa said, blushing. ‘I will have that one.’ Her words made me blush in my turn, and Agin groaned and rolled his eyes.
‘Father might have a thing or two to say about that, though,’ Agin said darkly, and then brightened. ‘But if he is upset, then I’m jubilant to help you marry into a robbing Goth family. Father failed to marry you to one, but if you chose one for yourself, then I’ll forgive you and help you.’
‘There will be things we need from you, other than shelter,’ Saxa said.
‘Oh?’ He frowned at her. ‘What else?’
She rubbed his cheek and made the Svea warriors chuckle as the big man seemed to melt like an ice cone. ‘We won’t be fugitives for all our lives, living in the corners of halls, hiding under the beds. We have plans. Father will be supremely unhappy I am doing this, brother,’ Saxa said with a broad smile. ‘This will kill him, perhaps. Finally. If you help, especially. And then we shall see how to build something that’s good for us all, not forced on us. We can spit on his god. We will be strong together, and none of the northern tribes can threaten us, if we—’
Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) Page 22
