Eadwine snorted and rubbed his head. ‘Poor boy, this Aldbert. Not much to look forward to in his old age if he has to lick your stinking feet. Will they let him live?’
The surprisingly sane vitka shrugged and kneaded his shoulder, uncertain. ‘He served the clan well, finally, and when he was touched by the spirits, that night he sang the galdr with you, Maroboodus, he knew he could not run from it. I don’t blame him for trying. He tried indeed, but couldn’t run. It’s too bad he loved you so much. He might have left the land on his own.’
‘Is Agin alive?’ I asked, swallowing my guilt over Aldbert.
Whisper smiled. ‘His village, the Wolf Hole? It’s gone. They say he died to Bero’s men. Others say he led many men away after the loss. It’s sad business, really. Not all Svearna agree with our clan, very few worship the Dark Sleeper, and while most respect and obey Gislin, Agin’s been a growing power and a painful, ever growing thorn in our backsides. You did us a favor by getting rid of Agin for us. If he is gone. We don’t have his body. We’ve sent men to seek him.’
I walked to the bars and looked down at him. ‘What exactly do you need? Of me, that is.’
He got up to eye me. He was filthy, spoke of sacrifices casually, but didn’t seem as unkind as one might have imagined. ‘I don’t know, son. If Aldbert failed and lied? If you are a nobody? You’ll die. Gislin will want you given to the Sleeper, but if you are what Aldbert said you are, what Gislin believes you are? You will live here. Perhaps they’ll let you out of the cage, even.’
‘To what end?’ I hissed at him.
He shrugged. ‘That is the thing. We know not. We know you herald the end of the world. That it starts with you. What else is there? We will find out. Little by little we shall coax the spirits for what the curse means, what your part is.’
‘Mad lies, all of them,’ I said.
He shook his head. ‘Boy, this is an old story. Your family is ancient, so is ours. It has lived in Gothonia, the islands, for long and long ages, longer than any, and since Woden gave life to your ancestors, you also carry the responsibility of upholding his honor. By staying true to family and honor, by being brave, the very best of men, you stave off the curse some gods put on you. And if you are not the very best of men? The curse says it leads down a dark road, with wars, death, and the end.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s not much, I agree, but there is this line. It’s all we know. It says the Bear will roar, and the Raven will find the way. We know little more right now. There was a seer here once. They say she knew much, very much about this, and goddesses gave her the full lines of the curse the Dark Sleeper cast when your kin was born. Those lines give hints of this curse, but she fled, fearing the lines, and Gislin sent people to find her. None have returned. But we know there is the Bear, and the Bear comes from your blood, and will herald the calamity that is to come.’
‘And you welcome such calamity?’ Maino spat. ‘Madmen.’
Whisper glowered at Maino, and I half hoped Maino would push a bit more, enough to tip the Svea’s patience over like an unbalanced barrel of water, but Whisper ignored the fool and spoke to me. ‘See the difference between you and him. He is of your blood, a wretched, if valiant thing, much like most warriors who stomp the land of Midgard. You would never know he has a god’s blood running wild in his veins. He’s not that special.’ Maino looked ready to refute the claim, but Eadwine slapped his foot to keep him silent. ‘The blood is there, but its just blood. Yet you, Maroboodus, son of Hulderic, you decided to change everything. And you have. Blood, war, misery follow you, and such are the paw-prints of the true Bear. There have been others.’
‘Others?’ I asked him, cursing him, and myself softly. ‘Before. The men you have spied through our past?’
‘Yes. Your relative, the Boat-Lord? He is the rightful head of your clan, and long has he kept your family in Gothonia, as his father before him, and many others like him. There were harsh men in your family like you before, men who thought differently, obeyed little and our family has forever tried to catch them. You do know many of your kind died miserably at the hands of the vitka of your family?’
‘I’ve been told,’ I said darkly.
‘Hulderic. Your grandmother,’ he surmised. ‘But they are no Boat-Lord who would have hung you quickly. You are ours. And no, Maroboodus, I do not embrace the fate Midgard will face. I’d rather your family had stayed in Gothonia where we could not find you easily, but Friednot and Hughnot rebelled, and stole your family sword, and the ring, and opened up a dangerous door.’
I stared at him, wondering how he knew such things. ‘Stole? How do you know?’
He waved his hand. ‘Hughnot told us many things when he visited us last Spring.’
‘How is this Boat-Lord related to us?’ I asked him.
He chuckled. ‘Why, he is your great grandfather. Old as shit. Your grandfather and Hughnot are his sons. They left Hogholm without his permission, and while he had given Friednot the ring and the sword, he never approved they be taken away from Gothonia. He was very upset. But so was Friednot. He hated the Boat-Lord. They had had a smaller brother once, a young man, whom your Boat-Lord had given to Donor for being reckless, possibly another Bear, and Friednot and Hughnot had never forgiven him for that. Even the mighty families fall if they squabble.’
‘And Saxa is to marry him?’ I breathed. ‘This ancient man?’
‘At least he can’t get it up, eh?’ Whisper laughed, but sobered. ‘But no, I think he will give her to Hrolf. The key is that he will do the gifting. He is the master, see? Did you see how upset Hrolf was when you told him she was your wife? Jealous.’
‘Curse him, may a spear rip his ass out,’ I sobbed and struck the cage and the Svea tensed, but only for a moment, as Whisper waved them back.
‘Gods only guess if that is possible with them holding all the advantages,’ he smiled. ‘Hrolf and Hughnot are going back home, and the sword and the ring they stole will be given back as soon as Bero dies, and Saxa will cement their alliance to Gislin. Gislin will take back much of our lands on the coast. It’s a good deal for everyone except for Bero and your father and the other Goths further south.’
‘I’ll not stay here,’ I said slowly. ‘If you don’t want this fate of your god to come to pass, why don’t you—’
He blanched. ‘I dare not rebel. No. Why would I give away my position here? I fear the future, but I fear hunger more. You’ll be ours and perhaps you won’t want to leave either,’ he said with a sad smile. ‘We will ask the gods, a high man shall die,’ he said and looked at Maino, who cursed, ‘and you shall change, slowly, but you shall. No man stays defiant forever. You’ll live here, and we’ll let the gods decide how best to use you, Bear, while you suffer your way into weeping obedience.’
‘I doubt it,’ I hissed. ‘I’ll not turn a Svea. Nor obedient.’
‘True Bear, eh?’ he chuckled. ‘Free as the wind, selfish as a storm. You will, no matter if you want to or not. We will keep you until gods speak plainly. Only your cousin here shall go to Hel’s tables, and that one as well.’ He nodded towards Eadwine. ‘And you’ll eat their flesh. After they are gone, the flesh of others. That also changes a man. It drives some mad, others obedient, hungry for more. It’s what the Sleeper would eat, and you will be closer to him. His heart. You’ll eat it tonight.’ He looked at Maino meaningfully.
I looked at Maino as well, and the fool’s face was white with terror. ‘I doubt he has a heart.’
Whisper barked a laugh and turned to go. ‘Heart. You’ll eat it and we’ll speak to the gods. His blood is royal, and very loyal, even if he is dull as a lump of rock,’ Whisper said and scratched his armpit. Maino’s face went slack with fear and I cannot say I was not tempted to see him die. Eadwine smiled ironically as he eyed the brief, if happy look on my face and Whisper shrugged, ready to go.
‘What is this Dark Sleeper?’ Eadwine asked tiredly. ‘We do not know this god.’
‘You do, my friends. He is also called the Trickster, the
Spirit of Shadows.’
Maino breathed hard. ‘Lok?’
Whisper nodded, approvingly. ‘There, he is not so stupid as he looks. Has listened to old women and drunken poets, even when they do not sing of heroes, but the villains.’ He walked away, picking his way carefully in the dark.
I nodded and Maino looked at me with terror. We had indeed all heard of Lok, the demi-god, the friend and foe of the gods, friend to the jotuns, father to monsters, and the one who will march on the gods when the end is nigh. Of course we had. I sat down, and held my head. ‘So,’ Maino slurred. ‘We’ll be dead. You’ll be a cannibal. Didn’t see that coming.’
‘Neither did I,’ I said.
‘I don’t want to go out helpless as a fool,’ Maino cursed. ‘I’ll fight.’
I looked at him, and shook my head. I had been promised life, but what kind of life would it be? One full of madness, sorrow, suffering?
Saxa would certainly suffer.
Father would die. And so, I agreed with Maino. We’d fight, but not the way he would have fought.
‘Listen,’ I said, and they did. It took some convincing, some arguments, and when Eadwine agreed with me, so did Maino, finally.
Then we waited, allied for once.
CHAPTER 16
They came during the night. I heard them talking and saw them enter the cavern, and they were carrying a cauldron filled with burning wood. Otherwise it was fairly dark in the cavern; many of the torches and shingles had burnt out, which didn’t seem to bother the Svea who lived there. There was more light in the cavern than there should be, I decided. Perhaps there was a strange glow in floor below? I squinted as I looked up and noted a hole where the light of the Mani streamed inside. It was not a strong light, but it lit up a tree trunk that had been set upright in the middle of the lower hall. There were Svear standing in the shadows by the trunk, silent, figures out to witness the magic of their leaders, who were descending a path for them. I saw Gislin, wearing a helmet made of a fox face, black tails swinging on each side, then there was the vitka Whisper, naked, painted white, and he carried a stone ax with a sturdy handle. His hair was spiked with mud, his eyes dangerous and fey and he pointed a finger to the cages. Hild came last, wearing a white dress, and she carried a hlaut vessel, used to gather blood. They looked eerie in the light of the fire in the cauldron.
‘Shit,’ Eadwine said. ‘It’s happening.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Maino said nervously. ‘We should just fight, and—’
‘Shut up,’ I said brusquely. ‘Fight now, and you’ll hang from that trunk for sure, beaten and broken,’ I spat and Maino nodded sullenly, swallowing his fear.
‘I’d not go there willingly,’ he said in a terrified whisper. ‘I don’t trust you.’
‘It will work,’ I told him angrily. ‘Are you ready?’
‘I am,’ Eadwine growled. ‘Don’t fancy this place too much. Wish to get out of here, no matter the way. Even if it means my life will end.’
‘We can only try. And do not die, Eadwine, before you kill at least half of them,’ I joked and he laughed softly.
‘They will tie us up,’ Maino said as if to an idiot. ‘We will be helpless.’
‘They will. Though not for long,’ I said with confidence I didn’t feel. ‘But if they don’t cooperate later with my plan, then it has not been a pleasure knowing you. I’ll eat your heart and probably break a tooth on the lump of cold rock.’
‘May rancid dogs hump you, Maroboodus. I—’
Men approached the cage. There were ten, and they had long spears and the dangerous looking, spear-like hooks. A tall warrior approached us, holding an ax and a shield, wearing a fur cap, his beard long, greasy, and braided with silver. He stepped near the cage. ‘Coming peacefully?’
‘We haven’t eaten,’ Maino said sullenly. ‘Perhaps later?’
The man smiled and thumbed one of the hooks. ‘Come or be dragged. We don’t mind which.’
‘We are coming,’ I told him and got up. The cage was opened and I inched my way out. They grabbed me roughly and held on to my arms, and men stepped forward.
They tied my hands.
The cords were looped around my wrists, and when the others exited the cage they were as expertly tied. Maino’s face twisted with a hint of his battle rage, but I held his feral eyes, and summoning every shred of sanity, he let them finish. Eadwine smirked at the Svea, who were not overly gentle and the knots were very tight. They placed a rope around our necks and I could only imagine how pitiful we looked as we were pulled towards the trunk, and what was likely the temple of Lok. Like cows to the slaughter, I thought and grunted, and Maino growled fearfully as the specter of his death approached.
‘Bring the meat, our sweet guests here,’ Whisper called out and so we followed the warriors, unable to disagree. They dragged us behind and we took a precarious, rubble filled path to the middle of the cave and I squinted as Mani’s light was bright there.
I spotted Aldbert. I had missed him before, but perhaps he had been there all along, alone in the dark. He was standing near Gislin, looking down, but he was dressed like a lord in a fine tunic and well-made pants and held his hand beneath his cloak. Hild pushed forward and pointed out our positions around the trunk, and she had Hel’s Delight on her hip.
We stood still for a moment, unsure what would follow. Whisper and Gislin were looking at us quietly, as if looking for a divine sign to start. Men were dragging the wide metal cauldron next to the trunk, and there was indeed wood inside, burning brightly, lighting the whole trunk. The cauldron was quite ominous, and I thought they’d burn the heart there, or anything they took out of Maino. Shadows danced on the floor and walls, and even the ceiling, and the high Svea still looked at us.
Finally, Maino spat with defiance and fear.
That was enough, apparently, to break the spell, because Whisper shrugged and walked to Maino. He grasped his meaty face, turned it left and right and smiled. ‘Spirited. Good. Be like that as you die, son of Bero. This is a special day and you are a very special man. Woden’s rage rushes in your veins, it does. The moon is full, spirits are awake, watching, the gods are talkative and so we shall learn great things today.’
I nodded and spoke ferociously. ‘Kill him already.’
Gislin raised an eyebrow. ‘You have accepted your lot, then? And that your blood-relative will be sacrificed?’ He nodded at Maino.
‘I wonder what,’ I chuckled, ‘would you have done had Hughnot killed him in the battle? You have no other blood from our family living here, do you?’
‘We would have taken his heart from his dead body,’ Gislin said with a vicious smile. ‘The dead are no different from the living. But we are lucky and he is fresh and yes, it is more appropriate. And there are high men, of high blood, even if not of yours here, men who failed,’ he said and glanced at Aldbert. ‘Gods would have welcomed his blood, no doubt.’ Maino was shaking his head softly, eyeing the evil looking trunk where thick rope loops would hold him high up, his arms stretched to the sides, his legs dangling, ready for his evil fate. Judging by the darker wood at the bottom of the trunk, there had been bloody and violent deaths there before. Many of them.
‘I’ll not—’ Maino began but the large warrior pushed him and he went silent, eyeing me with bloodshot eyes. He would not stand for such treatment for much longer.
‘So, let’s hang him up,’ Hild said. ‘Gods await.’
Gislin snapped his fingers. ‘Strip his shirt and gag him, make him fly.’
Whisper took a step forward, the Svea grasped Maino, and he finally fought, but to no avail. A pack of Svear ripped into his clothing, and Maino howled, as a leather gag was pulled over his mouth. I heard sibilant prayers fill the cavern as Maino was dragged and raised on the trunk. Men were standing on ladders as he was lifted, and not even his savage strength helped, when the enemy overwhelmed him like ants would a carcass. He was wheezing in terror as they untied him for a moment, but only long enough for them to force hi
s hand past the leather loops, which they tightened deftly. He was finally left to hang painfully from the trunk and the warriors retreated. Whisper, the vitka who was used to offering sacrifices took a hesitant step forward, sweat running in rivulets down his painted face, streaking the skin. He was praying, begging to gods and Hild was chanting with him. ‘Take the son of Bero to you, Lok, Sleeping God, the Imprisoned One, let us feast, bless us with your wisdom, Dark Sleeper, the great god of the night and tricks. Give us direction and send a spirit to guide us in our eternal quest. Tell us, Lok, tell us Sigyn, his wife, if Maroboodus is the one to release you, one day?’ He approached Maino, who moaned in horror as the ax was raised.
Maino’s eyes sought me out, pools of terror. I grunted, disgusted by the plan I had devised. Sparing Maino’s life was as desirable as dipping my cock in an anthill. I stepped before Whisper, nontheless. ‘I should do it.’
He looked like he had snapped out of a trance, batting his eyes like an owl chased out of its hole during the daytime. He swayed; having let himself swim deep to the nightmare of murder and slowly, very slowly he pulled himself out of it. Aldbert blanched as he looked at me, and fidgeted. ‘You?’ Whisper asked. ‘Why you?’
‘I’m the beast, the Bear,’ I growled. ‘I’ll eat his damned meat. But a man doesn’t eat what he hasn’t killed. And more, I hate him. I swore in Woden’s name I’d kill him one day. You are robbing me of my vengeance. Give me this, at least.’
‘I’m much more a beast than you are,’ Whisper said, but the ax in his hand grew lax. ‘I know how. And you don’t.’
I snorted. ‘How? It’s butchery. I’ve killed men this past week. Many men. It’s easy. I’ll just open him up from his throat to his belly and then you can do your divinations,’ I stated. ‘I’ll carve his damned heart out.’ They stood there, ten strong, and all turned to look at Gislin. He hesitated. All he had to do was to refuse. I spoke, pouring all my malice into the words. ‘I hate him.’
Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) Page 28
