It thunked to the flesh and parted it and the beast shirked like a child. I held onto the ax and was pulled into the air as the thing roared. It shook me, turning around wildly, slashing an enemy of ours down; Odo’s man who was trying to stab me. Tudrus and Agetan came forward to stab and hack at the thing, and it heaved its hammer at them, dislodging the ax in the process. I rolled and saw it kick Tudrus to the Batavi rank, and I roared, slamming the ax head on a madwoman rushing for me. I flitted forward like a vaettir and again hacked down with the ax, splitting the skin helmet, drawing blood. It roared but it still lived, the massive shoulders shuddering with pain.
It reached back, and its filthy claws found my arm. I swung again, awkwardly with one hand to the side, this time at a skinny man trying to reach me, hitting him on the cheek, leaving him senseless and bleeding on the stone. I noticed the Batavi charging the remaining enemy, killing many and scattering the rest. The recovered Bohscyld and raging Agetan charged to my help and were hanging onto the beast’s legs, trying to topple it. The beast was windmilling and then before it fell forward it grasped and embraced me.
Then it fell over me.
I hissed in pain as I grasped my seax, my hand on its nose, trying to keep it from biting me dead. I had a feeling the beast had no recollection of the instruction given and would slay us all; Cassia included. I hacked the seax on its head as I would hack down a carcass of mutton. I saw white as skull glinted under the skin blood, and then it rammed me with its full weight, and I lost my seax, the steel broken in two.
The beast kicked Bohscyld away and beat back at Agetan so hard the man swooned and rolled away. It turned to stare down at me, climbed on its feet, grabbed me by my chainmail and threw me across to the room. I landed on the dire shadow on the floor, grunting as my face hit the stone. The beast ran after me unsteadily, placed its foot on my throat and began to press. An arrow appeared in its cheek, it did not care.
Agetan sawed at its other foot with his gladius, and Tudrus impaled it from behind.
It did not notice.
It grinned and pushed harder as I choked and bit my tongue, my blood flowing from my mouth. I looked at the creature as I was dying, its inhuman eyes regarding me with glee.
I would die there.
That would break the fucking prophecy, I thought and laughed hysterically inside my head. Unless, of course, they only needed my hair; I added in my already blurry thoughts. Then, my head will suffice.
Things started to black out for me.
Then I saw Cassia dart under its arm, trembling in fear and punching the gladius she held through its throat.
It shrieked, stood up gurgling and fell, his arms wheelmilling, hitting Cassia on the head with brutal force. She fell over me as the beast went to its knees, holding its throat desperately. Hund and another Batavi fell on its back, stabbing and stabbing until it fell forward. I sobbed and pushed at Cassia. I cursed as I tried to make her respond to me, but there was nothing; her eyes were closed. Around us, the Batavi slaughtered the few wounded enemy mercilessly, no matter their gender, and Brimwulf and Tudrus came to help me with Cassia.
‘She will not die!’ I screamed, and the men around me gave me space, searching the room, guarding the door down. There were some thirty dead men and women scattered around us. The rest had fled.
‘She breathes, but …’ Tudrus said, carefully examining her head. ‘Bleeding, her nose bleeds, she has to be still,’ he continued, and I watched as a small pool of her blood spread on the stone.
Hund came to me. He kneeled and shook his head. ‘Six of the men left, and the brothers and the archer. I am sorry.’
I nodded and clapped his arm. ‘You followed me to Hel. I thank you.’
‘We did it for her,’ Hund grinned and shook his head to indicate he was jesting. ‘They will be missed.’
‘They will indeed. And Odo will be paid back in full,’ I acknowledged with a hollow voice, Cassia’s fate haunting me.
He got up to arrange the men, and Hund nudged me. I turned my eyes on him. He indicated the wreckage. ‘We failed. Utterly.’
I nodded. ‘She is not his prisoner, though.’
‘We failed,’ Hund said miserably as Agetan and Bohscyld kneeled next to her, their harsh faces streaked with tears.
‘I’ll face the vaettir spawned Hel dog after I find Veleda,’ I grimaced. ‘If she dies, I will make sure Paellus hangs from his intestines at the vallum of Castra Flamma. I will do so anyway.’
Tudrus nodded heavily. ‘Paellus will have to pay.’
‘He will,’ I told him. ‘I made an oath to Cassia. Over my sword. Winter Sword.’ I ran my hands over the Head Taker. ‘It will all be settled now. But if she dies …’ I gasped and nodded at Tudrus. ‘Then I shall hunt them all across the lands as long as it takes. You are released.’
‘So be it, Hraban, but I will not be released,’ he told me and nodded at his brothers and then at Cassia. Agetan and Bohscyld lifted her onto the shoulders of Tudrus. Brimwulf shook his head at me with a questioning look. I got up, groaning from pain but nodded at him. He loped downhill, and we went after him.
I prayed for Cassia. And was determined to murder Odo.
Should she die, I would indeed carry the sword across the realms and seek death by giving it.
CHAPTER 28
We probed down the tunnel.
The walls were moist, clear water was running down them in rivulets, and we had a hard time keeping our balance. There was no sight of the enemy. I wanted nothing more than to run down to find Odo and torture him to death, but I could not leave Cassia. She breathed, but her color was not good, and I steadied her on the shoulders of Tudrus, guiding them gently down the tunnel as Batavi went before and after us, holding torches.
Brimwulf appeared and shook his shoulders. He nodded down and there was a strange look of relief on his face. ‘There is a man there. Wounded and bereft of a leg. But they are gone. This man, down there? You get to keep your oath to Thusnelda.’
Sigimer.
But Odo was gone and so was Ishild and his son. And Gernot as well. I sighed at the thought of him. Tortured. Used by Odo. Only Ansigar seemed to enjoy truly their chosen allegiance.
Wyrd.
We got to the bottom, and there was no door. There was a strange, torch-lit chamber with roots, bare stones and a large hole in the ground, draining water even deeper. The men touched their weapons in fear, praying to Woden and Donor, to Hercules and the Gaulish gods Sequana and Damona for deliverance, for the sight was uncanny and oddly dangerous. There were cages scattered around the area, small stall for horses and little more. On the side, there was a door of roots and wood, and it was ajar. Brimwulf was out there, smelling the air. He waved us through, and Tudrus gently set Cassia down on a mossy bed of grass. Brimwulf nodded to the side. There sat a man of silvery white hair, thin and fragile.
It was Sigimer indeed.
Why Odo had not killed him, I knew not. Perhaps it served no purpose to him, and perhaps he had forgotten. There were some wounded and dead around us, men we had fought earlier, but only Sigimer was alert. I nodded my head at Hund, who set about finishing the ones with life in them. I thanked him with a nod and went to sit near Sigimer. I tilted my helmet off and stared at him. ‘Lord Sigimer.’
His eyes rounded. ‘You are—’
‘Hraban,’ I said simply.
‘The one who hurt Rochas,’ he said and pushed me weakly. ‘You traitor. You were to kill Drusus.’
‘I had a pang of conscience,’ I told him. ‘Brimwulf, his ax?’
‘Here,’ my friend said, grabbed it from Agetan and tossed it to me. I was so fatigued I nearly cut myself with it as I grasped it from the air. I grinned at him, despite my sorrow over Cassia.
‘Nearly got your revenge. It’s a great ax. I used it to cut the finger of Segestes.’
‘You what?’ he asked, confused.
And so, I told him much of what had been taking place with Armin and the Cherusci. He listened and didn’t sa
y much. That he had endured his hardships so well, spoke much of his spirit and noble blood. When I was done, he only nodded.
‘Lord?’ I asked.
‘What should I say?’ He grinned. ‘So, they are lining up against my boy. And Rochas is a traitor. Segestes a Roman? I feared it was so, but I did not understand his full ambition. Lord of the North! Hah! And now, I am a prisoner to Rome.’
I sighed. ‘Armin needs a fighting chance. You have to show up.’ Brimwulf was nodding his head at my words, listening in.
‘What?’ he asked, confused.
‘You will go to your boy, unite your men with Inguiomerus, summon your lords from under the banner of Segestes and then you will fight Rome,’ I told him while rubbing my face.
‘And your Nero Claudius Drusus will allow this?’ he asked, incredulously. ‘War is no game, Hraban. You take your advantages and use them ruthlessly.’
I hesitated. ‘I gave my word.’ I handed him the ax, and he took it. His eyes were full of wonder at the weapon and then filled with tears.
‘To whom?’ he asked.
‘Thusnelda. I was a prisoner to Segestes. She set me free and told me to do everything in my power to save Armin. So he will at least have a fighting chance, eh?’
‘He might,’ Sigimer said gruffly. ‘They will feed me, strap me to a horse, and I will fight and die for him. It will be interesting. Segestes and Drusus, Maroboodus skulking around. Then there will be our men if we can pull them together. Chaos.’
‘Chaos,’ I agreed. But Drusus will be ready, and he will cut through the chaos, I thought.
‘Segestes was ever the weak link in the family,’ Sigimer whispered, admiring his ax. ‘Cut his finger?’
‘Yes.’ I smiled.
He laughed softly. ‘Too bad you didn’t cut his balls, but I doubt he has any use of them anyways. I will summon my lords. Their warbands will join us. Inguiomerus as well, with what he can spare. We will have eight thousand men, at least, unless many have died. With all our warriors, it would be tens of thousands, but it would take time. So much time. We will do our best.’
‘Thank you, Sigimer,’ I said grinning. ‘May the best army win. I will tell Drusus of your brother and it might be he will find an ax in his neck.’
‘I do not love him but make it an easy death,’ he said gently. ‘Is the woman all right?’
‘That is my wife,’ I sighed. ‘And I do not know.’
‘Frigg will heal her. My wife always prayed to Frigg and cured Rochas once or twice,’ he said reverently. ‘I will pray for her.’
‘I will ask the men to find some water, as well,’ I said gratefully and got up.
I gave no orders, but Hund set guards. We sat in the sun and breathed deep, trying to fathom our losses while two men scouted the land with Brimwulf. Eventually, Hund came to me while I stroked Cassia’s hair. He fidgeted with the pole holding the vexillum of the 2st Batavorium until I waved my hand at him. ‘Sir, there is a war going on. Are we going to go back to it? We do not want to be thought of as deserters,’ he said while carefully eyeing me. ‘And that man? He is Sigimer?’
I nodded at him. ‘Cassia needs healing, and she was the healer in the castra.’
‘There are medicus in Castra Flamma. Granted, they are not as skilled as our Cassia, but we are stationed there,’ Hund said with a frown. ‘That man. I have seen him before. In a battle. I am sure it is Sigimer.’
‘We will go and find Nero Claudius Drusus,’ I told him savagely, and he flinched. I calmed myself and rubbed my eyes. The fingers came off gritty and bloody. ‘We will find him and get her healed, and our Consul will be grateful. Fulcher should have reached him already. If the army is in Castra Flamma, then fine. We will go there. If not, we will not. I will take the blame.’
‘I did not mean … ’ he began and nodded. ‘Very well. And I suppose that is not Sigimer?’
‘No, that is not Sigimer,’ I told him and he shook his head, grinning. I went on. ‘If he should go home to the Cherusci, Hund, it will be for an oath or honor. And who knows, it might not hurt Rome at all.’
‘Yes,’ he said and stared at Sigimer. ‘Chaos in the enemy ranks is always a good thing. More chiefs, more easy the victory.’ I nodded. He was right, I thought, as Hund left. Sigimer’s freedom would break Segestes but might make leading very hard for Armin.
Brimwulf came back a bit later with another man. He nodded to the north. ‘There are again some merchants down at the ford. They have horses. Odo and some twenty of his creatures went there, over the woods and hills. That way,’ Brimwulf said, nodding towards the north. The other Batavi looked uncertain as he fidgeted on his haunches. Brimwulf nodded at him and scratched his beard. ‘He has some other news.’
‘Yes?’ I asked, dreading the mounting problems stopping me from getting Cassia to a legion’s doctor.
‘There are signs around the Buck River,’ he told me. ‘Not made by simple merchants.’
Brimwulf sneered. ‘He thinks there is an army out there. Not a Roman one.’
The Batavi shook his head. ‘There were footprints, horse turds.’
‘You read horse turds?’ I smiled, despite my anguish over Cassia.
‘And this,’ he said darkly.
He gave me an arrow with white and grey quills. ‘They come from a Chatti quiver. The feather is theirs. I know them. They forage as they go, this one was stuck on a root. The Chatti are shadowing Drusus.’
‘How many?’ I asked, eyeing the arrow, thinking about Oldaric and Adgandestrius. They were coming there with their Chatti to avenge their losses and Ebbe. And perhaps also to support Maroboodus. Father.
‘Few, but an army would go through the woods, far from the Roman exploratores. Few men raise no suspicion,’ he said.
Brimwulf shook his head. ‘The Chatti hunt here anyway. I see no reason—’
Then, a Batavi guard ran downhill to us. ‘You should see this!’ I got up, and Tudrus nodded at my imploring look. He would stay with Cassia. Agetan and Bohscyld just scowled, and I thanked them with a nod as I placed Cassia’s head on the lap of Bohscyld. I got up and ran uphill until the guard made warning gestures, and we went to our knees. We crawled in a field of blueberries, sneaked through rocks and settled down on a small ridge. ‘They should be right there.’
‘Chatti?’
‘Chatti? How did you guess? Yes, Chatti,’ he chuckled, his blond beard in tangles and full of thorns.
We raised our heads.
To the north and downhill, one could see an occasional gleam amidst the woods, and we soon saw a sneaking column of men, stretching to the south, women walking next to them. They were men with their hair cut from their foreheads, marks of Chatti, who had killed. They were a line of lean and mean warriors, men hunting for Drusus.
‘Chatti exploratores have passed. That is the army,’ hissed the Batavi. But look, there. Beyond them. Another army.’
‘I see him,’ I said heavily.
The Chatti were marching in a valley. Beyond them on a hillside rode a column of a thousand men with elaborate hair knots. That was the mark of a Suebi, and these were Suebi indeed. They were from the south. They were men who followed the figure in a gleaming chainmail, wearing what had been Hulderic’s beast masked, silvery helmet with red hair spilling over the brim. He was a large man, and his shield was black with a red, rampant bear. He held a long spear with a red banner fluttering in the wind and wore a red tunic. Brimwulf grunted. ‘Your father is here, then. Maroboodus?’
I nodded. ‘Yes. Last time we saw him he was burning our home. He is here to deal with Drusus. He is in league with Segestes and Woden knows what their plan is. Likely, they will let Drusus and Segestes kill Armin first. I hope Fulcher has reached Drusus and revealed Segestes so these bastards will march to their doom,’ I said, and the grip on my sword was that of a desperate man seeking his salvation. If I could slay my father, Drusus would be safe, I thought.
‘We go and help Sigimer reach Armin, then?’ Brimwulf asked. ‘Or you st
ill go after Odo?’
I shook my head. ‘Odo is right, it is of no use to struggle against the prophecy. I will see him later. A bear is slain, a raven finds the way.’
‘What?’ Brimwulf asked.
‘Gods piss on us. They piss on us all the damned time, and all we can do is stand still and smile,’ I cursed. ‘That there,’ I said, pointing my quivering hand towards my father, ‘is the Bear, I am the Raven and when a bear is slain, the lines say, then Raven will find the way. We will not worry about Odo now. I will, later. We just have to find Armin and Drusus now, and the rest will fall into place sooner or later,’ I whispered. Father was looking around, speaking to some of his men, and I saw Nihta there with the Marcomanni. The lithe, small man was clean shaven, wore a great, gray cloak and looked tired and drawn. I had miraculously wounded him the night Father dashed our dreams by burning Burlein’s village. I wondered what had become of my Aunt Gunhild who had been heavy with Burlein’s child, despite being still married to Father. She was Balderich’s blood, that of great Suebi Aristovistus like I was, but perhaps Father no longer needed such high blood to keep the Marcomanni fighting for him. There they were, some thousand of them. Surely more, I thought, and the remains of the Quadi must be with them. I nodded and spotted a man under a crow’s wing banner. He was Sibratus, Lord of the Quadi. ‘Thousand?’ I asked the Batavi.
Brimwulf grunted. ‘Some three thousand total. See. The Chatti have an army and a train of supplies coming as well.’ True enough, many horses were being pulled by women. ‘They always prepare well for a campaign.’
I nodded and shrugged. ‘They are not very many. But we have to leave quickly.’
‘They have scouts all around us,’ the Batavi guard said bitterly. ‘We have to hide for now.’
‘How long?’ I asked.
‘It will be a day. More?’ Brimwulf told me unhappily.
The Winter Sword: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 3) Page 35
