The Winter Sword: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 3)

by Alaric Longward

  There would be no fighting Rome in the lands of Sigimer.

  Armin stood there for a time. If you ever saw a man in throes of desperation, gathering strength, begging the gods for patience, then you know what I saw. Finally, Armin looked at us, his face white with fatigue, and he nodded heavily. ‘Follow us. We have to move.’

  And we did.

  Armin took his men north through verdant fields and pastures. His men ran after him and rode their powerful horses, most looking back where now halls had begun to burn near the ford. We were making great speed, and I rode behind Armin as he gently talked with Thusnelda.

  ‘He is smitten with her, is she not?’ a young Cherusci asked me with hushed tones as if he had made a great discovery. He was blushing.

  ‘Yes,’ I said simply, and Armin turned to me. He was looking at my eyes, and I looked back steadily. He said nothing, but he was thinking and apparently, Thusnelda had made a request on my behalf. We stopped as the night fell, the little over one thousand men eating what they had, the women feeding them, tending their wounds and blisters. During the night, many more would leave the army, going home.

  I was brushing my horse when I noticed Armin approaching. He stood near and looked at some men being fuzzed over by their women. He snorted, clapped my shoulder and pointed at one of his men. ‘That fat one, he has his wife carry all the food, the daughters the drink, and he has four slaves trapping and hunting for him, and he is not even a chief. I have never seen him lose any fat though he fights like an irate bear.’

  I grunted. ‘Wandal used to eat like a glutton. He fought like a hero the day I lost him.’

  ‘Wandal, eh? Have you searched for your friend? I am sorry for Ansbor,’ he said, neutrally.

  I shrugged, bothered by his care. ‘Wandal is a slave or a corpse. I have had no time to search for him. And when I find him, I have to tell him about Ermendrud.’

  ‘His woman?’ Armin asked, half smiling, though it was a sad smile.

  I nodded, rubbing my face. ‘I let her down. Him as well. I let her die to Leuthard. As for Ansbor? There was fault in me. In him. In life. Wyrd.’

  ‘Gods fuck us sometimes, Hraban. Wyrd,’ he agreed.

  ‘Where is Catualda?’ I asked him. I hated the bastard. He was one of the men I had sworn to kill.

  He nodded as if expecting the question. ‘Catualda is a clever man. Cruel, but clever. But he is not so useful in battle. I have used him to keep an eye on Segestes. He is riding after the traitor now, trying to see where he takes his army. Don’t worry about Catualda.’

  ‘I will always worry about Catualda. Did he not lie to my face and betray me so many times? His Father Bero?’ I informed him.

  ‘Did you not betray Bero for Maroboodus?’ He smiled.

  I did not answer his question. ‘For now, I only worry about Lif.’

  ‘Only about Lif?’ He smiled again. ‘You chose Drusus. And Drusus wants me. Tell me, Hraban, am I helping my would be captor? You tried once already.’

  ‘I might be lucky, Armin,’ I grinned and lied, ‘but I have no desire to try my luck beyond a breaking point. I doubt I could carry you to Drusus.’

  ‘You felled Rochus, they say,’ he mused with some steel in his voice. ‘He is not dead, is he? I have not seen him after the battle. I could use his help.’

  ‘No, not dead,’ I agreed, bothered by his question. I liked Rochus.

  ‘He was supposed to be home already,’ Armin stated darkly. ‘If they—’

  ‘He is with Drusus,’ I said reluctantly.

  ‘What?’ Armin asked me. ‘Captured?’ he stated more than asked.

  ‘He …’ I began and thought of telling him to give himself up if he valued Rochus. He might, or might not. Likely not. ‘He betrayed you.’

  ‘Hraban, he is my brother,’ Armin said, his hand clutching a long spatha on his side. ‘You cannot claim he would … He fought well, didn’t he? For me!’

  I nodded and pointed a finger at him. ‘He was in Oddglade where we bought Segestes. He saved me from your uncle, with whom I had a small unfortunate misunderstanding, and I took him to Drusus. They embraced, laughed, and feasted together, and he was tended to by Roman chirurgii and medicus. He is as Roman as I am now. Perhaps more. For he had a choice. I did not.’

  ’Rochus,’ he breathed, holding his head.

  ‘Perhaps he is called something else now,’ I said viciously, and then regretted it. ‘I am sorry. He chose thus. Strange it is that I am here, and he is there, eh? Especially after the battle where we championed different sides.’

  ‘Different sides,’ he said as he was trying to collect his dignitas. ‘To get back to my earlier thoughts. I am not sure what side you are on. You killed Roman troops to save her?’ he asked me, rubbing his face.

  ‘I did. It was … wyrd. It happened. And so, I have no home now. But I could not let them rape her,’ I said truthfully, for I would have done so even if I had no orders to find Armin. ‘Even if I did leave you and her with Leuthard that night and she might have died in the unpleasantries, this was more … personal. I hate rapists.’

  ‘I hang them without a Thing or settled wergild,’ Armin agreed. ‘I will help you find Lif.’

  ‘You will?’ I asked him, my voice crackling with hope. ‘I am grateful. That is all I have left. Hope of finding her. I have lost everything else.’

  ‘You will see her before Yule. I will send a war band with you to Godsmount and a man who will know the way. I will tell the man how to get to the two-pronged mountain.’

  ‘You know the way?’ I asked him, wondering.

  ‘I do,’ he said. ‘It is a tricky path up the mountain, and the shrine to Woden is well hidden. There is Woden’s Plate and before that, a Woden’s Finger and gods know what else of Woden’s. Perhaps he pissed up there when he took Midgard under his banner and there is Woden's lake as well. You know, they said Woden created men in Gothonia—’

  ‘Yes, and they say my blood is of the first family.’ I showed him my black hair.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, you are. But you see, you are not alone. While men were spawned in the frigid shores of the northern sea, making Aska and Esla strong and hardy, he took some south. But enough of that. You will learn more later. Did you know it was on the summit of Godsmount he claimed Midgard.’

  ‘Really?’ I breathed, wondering how he knew so much about the matter.

  ‘Really? I know not.’ He grinned. ‘They say it is so. Wyrd knows if it is true. They said he stood there after feasting and sacrificed part of his soul to bind Midgard to him. Thus, he gave birth to stone, wood, and plant and created the balance of the life, and this world became real. His. And so it would make sense it is there it can all be unraveled. They say a great völva guards it, but now this völva is perilous. It is Lok’s blood running through the veins of this Veleda.’ He smiled mysteriously. ‘And she defies Odo. Just like your prophecies say.’

  ‘She is Tear’s daughter. The youngest one, the one who has to die. I will go and see Lif safe. If you provide me men, or this man, Veleda will be safe.’

  ‘What will you do with Lif, Hraban?’ he asked me.

  ‘I will … ’ I began and went quiet. ‘I will ...’

  ‘See she is happy and safe. Is she safe with you?’

  ‘No,’ I said immediately. ‘She is not.’

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘Fine. As for your rootlessness. Come and fight with me. Guard the land and be a Cherusci. Guard her, visit her and make Odo a corpse. I will help. When I can.’ He gazed around in distress. ‘Imagine, we had ten thousand men. Now? Nothing. But I will rebuild. The men are still there, even if Sigimer’s death has made them uncertain cowards. We have tens of thousands of men. We need fewer lords’ He spat, grumbled darkly and squeezed my shoulder.

  ‘I suppose that is a good offer. Yes,’ I lied and felt my honor was sullied by the words.

  He gazed at me and smiled. ‘I’m happy we have an agreement. For a change, it is one that does not cost us anything. No
? Unless you are still Roman. But we shall see.’

  ‘You trust me, Armin?’ I asked him, and cursed myself for bringing it up.

  He chortled. ‘I trust no one, Hraban. And I will not be left alone with you. Not ever. I will not share my plans of disrupting your Drusus’s army either. And I don’t expect you to slay nor fight him, for you love him. I will have plenty of work for you other than killing men you have fought side by side with. We will conquer. But you will be spared dishonor.’

  ‘A bold claim for someone on a run.’ I laughed. ‘But yes, I do love Nero Claudius Drusus. He gave me home, but I cannot abandon Lif. I am happy I managed to spare Thusnelda. Give me what power you can of will, Armin. I will help with what I can and gods help us find a way to work together without compromising our honor again.’ Fucking liar, I thought of myself.

  ‘Yes,’ he mused, ‘the gods must forgive a lot in our case, no? And in your father’s.’ His eyes flickered at me, and I saw there was doubt and rage there, as if he was considering a past hurt.

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed.

  ‘Odo has your ring, no?’ he mused with a small smile now, his fey mood having evaporated. ‘You told me and Thusnelda, as well.’

  ‘Yes, he has it,’ I agreed.

  ‘And your friend Drusus will go home for the winter. After raping and burning a bit in my homeland,’ he stated with gritted teeth.

  ‘Yes, likely so,’ I agreed, knowing it was true.

  ‘We have the winter to find Odo. Perhaps getting the ring is a common cause that harms neither you nor me,’ he said happily. ‘Inguiomerus was very bitter, Catualda … I lost it.’

  ‘I would be honored to, Lord,’ I answered, and my heart fluttered in anticipation of seeing Odo’s scrawny body ravaged by Nightbright. ‘Know you where he is?’

  ‘I know where his scarecrows are most often seen. Due south of the battle of the rivers. In the wilds and unkind lands just south of where we lost my father. I will send men to find him. I have never had reason to find this home of theirs, but now I do. I need the ring. Even Inguiomerus has to see its worth. It will free him from most of the Suebi wars. If I have it, the Suebi chiefs will see it as a sign of great favor. Some might join us. What is the name of the place?’

  ‘Odo’s ancestral home? Gulldrum. Under the stone, he said. A cave?’ I wondered. ‘He had a lot of men last year when he tried to take me.’

  ‘But less after?’ Armin grinned. ‘I heard from Catualda they most all died.’

  ‘Yes, the day Catualda killed my friend Koun for your ring. Mine.’ He glanced at me and nodded. We had a sad, dangerous past. I went on. ‘A friend died, and the ring was gone, and I did not regain it then, but later. Yes, most all of Odo’s men and women died. But Odo is sure to have more such creatures.’

  ‘You will treat with Catualda and settle your scores,’ Armin said with a warning. ‘Carefully. With time. Within the laws and the rules. He cannot defeat you in battle, Hraban. Think about that.’

  ‘He helped Father have my mother and grandfather killed. He betrayed his father, Bero. All for his glory and the ring. And Armin, I should not wonder if he had plans beyond helping you with the ring.’

  ‘He has a right to the ring.’ Armin sighed. ‘Your grandfather stole it from his father, Bero. I am asking you to think hard, Hraban, what you shall do when the time comes to deal with him. For now, he is useful to me. And yes, I know of his ambitions. He wants a kingdom. I don’t, but he does. In the north? With the Suebi? In the south where Marcomanni rule? He is here, gathering wealth and fame, but in truth he wants to rule the Marcomanni, I think.’

  ‘Really?’ I asked, surprised. ‘He told you this?’

  ‘He speaks to men when he is drunk, and some of those men are there to spy on him,’ Armin said, grinning. ‘I trust no one. He should go north with the ring. There it can summon an army of the old families in Gothonia and Svear coast. But life is harsh up there. Winters are deadly. Svear and strange Nomads of the East raid in the summers. No, he knows the Marcomanni. And he seems confident he might one day find power there. Here? As you see, we have many mighty men here and all hate each other, and there is no room for strange new lords. Wait, Hraban, should you see him. I need him.’

  I shuddered, cursed softly and bowed to Armin. ‘Yes, Lord.’

  He gave me a sideward glance and smiled. ‘We will see if you have learned patience.’

  ‘Patience for a Marcomanni, Lord, is as likely as a wolf enjoying berries,’ I grumbled.

  ‘You are a wolf, Hraban, but eat berries for awhile.’ he laughed. ‘He must be a great man for you to admire him so. Nero Claudius Drusus.’

  I felt tired and made a gesture to the West. ‘Drusus is not unlike you. He cheats and lies like a vicious, clever child, but for Rome. For ideals. Cicharni Germani, our Ubii and Vangione brethren across the Rhenus look at him and admire him just like your men adore you,’ I said, and Armin smiled.

  ‘Vicious child?’ he grinned and shook his head. ‘Perhaps so. Perhaps he shall make you a king for the Marcomanni, after all. A useful client, perhaps?’ Armin smirked. ‘If I die.’

  I shrugged. ‘He has many battles to win.’ I felt a cold hand squeeze my heart and feared for my lord Drusus for a second. I cursed such omens and prayed for Woden to help him.

  He smiled and guided his horse around some jagged stones. ‘Must keep this horse alive. You killed the one I loved. I forgive you. You have seen a lot in one year. Much more than most men twice your age. Your father truly changed everything. Whole nations are moving. I will lie and cheat as a child and fight like a wolf for our people. I will fight your pretender father and Drusus and any general they might replace him with. Even my brother if I have to. And Segestes if he can give me no explanation.’

  ‘He sold you out, Armin,’ I said tediously.

  He snorted. ‘But it might not be polite to present him such an accusation if one is to renew our relationship.’

  ‘He was sold your lands,’ I explained, not sure if Armin understood.

  ‘Yes, but I will make life hard for him, should he try to claim them,’ Armin smiled coldly. ‘I will make it very hard. Let him come each summer. We do what the Sigambri do. Hide and fight and kill and few men will call him the Lord of the Cherusci when they see his halls in cinders each spring.’

  ‘You just need an army,’ I spat and shrugged apologetically.

  ‘I’ll seed one if I have to,’ he said darkly.

  ‘Thusnelda would not approve. Or do you mean to whelp an army on her?’ I laughed.

  He grinned. ‘No. I will never betray her. She is better than gold in my palm, and I need nothing but her if not the freedom of our people. That is the one thing I treasure above her. Here. I have to go and see the Falcon’s Hall ahead. Talk to you soon.’ He whipped his horse, and far ahead I saw a hall of high splendor, two layered and with thick doorposts like mine had once been. There were many men mounted in the yard; people were agitated and confused as they ran around. Some women were herding scared cows; nervous dogs were barking, and there was a cat staring at the confusion with an alert look.

  ‘I am Kuno,’ said the Cherusci chief who had escorted us to Armin. I was startled but nodded as the large man rode next to me.

  ‘You know my name,’ I said glumly.

  ‘I know what they call you,’ he said cautiously, his face unhappy under his bushy beard. ‘But I also see Lord Armin treats you with respect and you speak as brothers. So I ask for your name.’

  ‘Hraban. Of the Marcomanni. A lost soul in a sea of lost souls,’ I told him, looking at Armin gesturing at south and west, speaking to a grizzled old Cherusci.

  ‘Ride on,’ someone called ahead. ‘We are going north.’

  Thusnelda guided her horse next to me. ‘Did you agree?’

  ‘Yes, we made a pact,’ I told her. ‘Though I am not sure I will fight Rome for him.’

  ‘Good. Keep the pact, Hraban, and I’ll be your friend,’ she told me with relief.

  I nodded,
swallowing bile for my dishonesty, and the cavalry rode on. Men were breaking off it all the time, hiding away, or being commanded to take messages. We rode until a bank of clouds covered the moon, and a fog rose from the river. Then men rode from the dark and people were yelling questions. Kuno was rising upon his horse’s back, trying to see to the dark. ‘It a messenger. We are near Sigimer’s hall, the Glittering Oak.’

  ‘Armin’s orders?’ Thusnelda asked, clutching her cloak.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ Kuno said uncertainly. ‘Yes.’ He noticed a man beckoning for them and pointed to the north. Hundreds of others rode east. Kuno rode forward and consulted a bit with a thin man who was gesturing around wildly, and then the lord of our escort nodded. He came to us, looking gloomy. ‘Armin wants us to ride for Sigimer’s hall. There is some strange cavalry probing to the east of it. Enemy cavalry. Short spears and fur hats.’

  ‘Thracian cavalry,’ I guessed. They were causing chaos as usual.

  ‘The men will deal with them,’ Kuno said with jealous pride, for he would have loved to go with the men who now whipped their tired horses. The riders were happy and grinned at the chance to fight back. We were left with ten men.

  ‘Let us go then. Over those two hills?’ Thusnelda said, squinting to the north.

  ‘Three hills and that yellow and green valley full of moose and deer,’ he told her.

  ‘Used to follow Armin there to hunt when we were but children.’ She giggled. ‘A boar nearly got us once.’

  Kuno nodded and laughed, and we rode to the dark until we entered a hauntingly beautiful valley full of fields and lone trees. In the moonlight, it looked eerie and silent. ‘Where are the deer? Many here usually, when it is night.’