I put on more speed and heard whistles and snaps nearby. Perhaps they had heard me?
Before me were old alder trees in a cluster of dark woods, and I stopped under a low hanging bough. I hesitated and swallowed my fear. I thrust my spear into the trunk above, pushed the shield at a precarious angle up to a thicker concentration of boughs and leaves. Then I pulled myself up to the tree, climbing like a squirrel on fire, trying not to drop too many twigs and pieces of bough to the ground. I barely managed it with my armor.
I pulled the spear from the trunk, turned to stare down and tried to calm my breath. I pressed myself against the trunk, my cheek caressing a rough surface of the tree. Should they miraculously miss me during the night, I knew daylight would bring doom. But in the dark, perhaps even the Svear would not see me. I prayed goddess Freya for luck, for Woden would surely be busy soon as I needed his battle rage. I hoped she would see fit to aid me.
And so, I stood still on the bough, hid by the heart-shaped leaves.
I heard a strange shuffle.
A moment later, one of the Svear walked by, bent down to examine the ground and he was there for a while, looking ahead, hesitating. I prepared to jump on him, but he whistled softly, snapped his fingers a few times and ran on. I held my breath. He stopped to listen again and to sniff at the air. Then he finally moved off. Horses rode up in the dark. I could see Ragwald and his men spread out in the thick foliage, confident their trackers knew what they were doing. Hugo was speaking softly with Ketill, and I grinned as they passed under me. The forest was quiet, some birds began an eerie song in the foliage and some bugs crawled under my armor, but I refused to swat at them. I was about to move when another Svea walked up, his short stabbing spear at the ready, his shadowed eyes staring around, his dark face smeared with green and grey ashes, looking around and smelling the air. He walked under my tree, bent on going ahead when he stepped on some fresh bough, fallen from my climb.
Then he stopped.
He bent down and took some of the boughs in his hand, rubbing it.
I jumped down behind him.
He turned, and I threw a spear at his chest, easily impaling his fox fur tunic, and he flew back to the foliage, gurgling, and spitting blood as I bent down and stabbed Nightbright at the mass of thrashing legs until it did not move. I listened carefully, sweating in the darkness, and all was quiet, save for some clicks ahead. I knew I had to run, for they would understand that things had changed when this one did not answer. I grabbed the spear and my shield and moved away.
I had run east up the hills for the mountain, but now I careened a bit to the north. I ran with my shield and my spear, holding onto my helmet. I tore off to the night, my heart jumping at every sound in the awakening forest. My armor weighed a ton, and I felt like throwing up. All the Germani run in the woods, our men lasting for long stretches on winding, tiny hunt trails, hours on hours, for few can afford a horse, and the prey in the woods or in war can only be had if you have the stamina of a beast and lots of god-given luck. And gods and luck are fickle friends at best.
I took after an auroch and it was bounding and running before me, a large female, hoping its tracks would hide mine. I was begging it would confuse the trail, but it was faster than I was and turned to the east, bellowing in anger and I kept on. There were no whistles to be heard.
Soon, the forests grew thicker and my spear would catch on thickets and branches as I weaned my way forward. I was now leaving plenty of bent and broken branches and twigs behind me. I stopped to drink from a small stream as the dawn came. It was a sad and gray dawn, banks of heavy clouds thickly filling the sky. I went on until I had gone ten Roman miles and broke out on a field. I found I was on the lower hills of the Godsmount, the rocks and woods on its slopes rising up before me like a sitting Jotun, high, so high an eagle would find it hard to reach them. The two strange peaks were visible high above me, and I hesitated as I wondered how I was to find Veleda and Lif. I ran through the field, and then a brightly beautiful forest, scaring a drowsy fox feasting on a rabbit, and the beast didn’t run, it just bared its teeth at me. I laughed, wondering if that one too, would take after me.
I nearly froze.
Behind me, I could hear whistles and the neighing of horses, for my enemy were close. I cursed and went on, scared out of my mind, and Ragwald had been right. He had wanted me to fear, and I did.
Where to go? I wondered.
In front of me, rising high to the sky, the peaks beckoned for me. I despaired as I looked at the vast woods and crags and steep sides hidden by vegetation. I had no exact idea where to go. I looked up to the green slopes, and my heart stopped.
The huge raven was high up there, I was sure, circling a rocky crevice that split the two tops in the middle.
I surged forward.
A large man got up from a copse of tall grass in front of me, holding a bow.
He was painted in green and gray; another moved behind him, and I screamed defiance at them, charging with my spear held low as the arrow flew.
I put my head down, felt the arrow crash against my shield as I jabbed at the man, who had been drawing another arrow. He rolled away with perfect balance, coming down to aim his bow at me again. Fight them, my god screamed at me, and my body obeyed as I flipped my spear into the air, grabbing it so that it was ready to be thrown. And throw it I did. It flew from my hand with a force unmatched as the second man was moving to support his brother. He realized he was the target. He dropped his weapon, trying to roll down, but he caught the spear in his chest, yelping, and the archer released his last arrow, hissing in hate and fear. I screamed and shield bashed him straight in his face, falling over him. I tried to get up, but he held onto my shield and then he struck a weak blow with a club, clipping my shoulder.
I laughed in battle madness, I swatted his arm aside, and hit him in the face with my helmet repeatedly until he shuddered and went still. His face was a thing of blood, his skull caved in, his tongue lolling out of a misshapen mouth, and I got up, gore dripping to my chin from my helmet as I turned to face the seven men chasing after me.
They were there, five on horse, the two Svear on foot. They were staring at me in the dark wood. To them, I must have looked like an escaped spirit from some dark realm of the elves, for they talked to each other with hushed voiced. Woden gave me strength. He whispered to me, prodded me to mock the enemy, and so I did. I laughed at them, danced before them, my short dark beard dripping blood. I took up my shield, bent down to the dead man, and with Nightbright, I slashed his throat.
Ragwald was whispering to a tall man at the helm, a man with a wolf pelt on his shoulders, but he did not move. I walked over to my spear and saw the man I had speared was still alive, hissing in pain as the huge blade was embedded in his chest, but I cared not and took it out, deliberately making him howl.
‘Come, hem holders of Frigg, you girly bastards.’ I laughed.
The two remaining Svear ran for me, and I retreated, running to the woods. I noticed I had an arrow in my side, and while I ran, I just kept looking at it as it was sticking through my lower right side. Curiously, I felt no agony. I heard Ragwald get his men moving forward. As I ran, I saw a man up on the hills, riding far above and even this far, flitting through the woods I saw it was Odo, looking down at me and up to the raven. I cursed and ran after Odo but then pursuing men on horses got close, and an arrow thudded into the rim of my shield, and I saw I would never catch him.
The raven circled high above me, still flying around the crevasse splitting the mountain’s top, lazily riding the currents, and I could almost hear Odo yelling at his men to ride faster..
I cursed and weaved as the horses behind me were finding some hardships with the rocks. Ragwald was screaming at the men, and they obeyed, and I would soon be caught. I burst into a small wood, then out of it. An arrow hit the rock next to me, and I nearly roared in anger. My goal was so close, and there was Ragwald, Ketill, and the rest of the bastards robbing me of justice.
> Then, ahead, I saw a patch of rock and a rugged cave.
I had no choice.
I sprinted ahead with the last vestiges of my strength. A horseman crashed through a thicket before me, and I slashed the beast with the spear, making it throw its rider downhill. I ran over the rock for the opening of the narrow cave and turned.
There they were, Ragwald, the two Svear, the man in the helmet, Hugo, Ketill and one other. I could no longer see Odo, but he was going up, no doubt. Ragwald was cursing me, his men were dismounting, and the Svear ran to whisper something to Ragwald, pointing towards Odo. Ragwald blanched as he regarded Odo's troop. He shook his head and pointed his finger at me. I fully entered the cave, cursing. I looked at it, despairing. There was no sign of life. I was trapped. I was surrounded. The raven croaked somewhere far, and the echo mocked me.
CHAPTER 35
I sat in the cave, watching my enemy.
The cave was dark, as caves are, chilly and wet, and I was so hungry I could have eaten my helmet. I glanced outside and held the arrow in my side, gently tugging at it. It hurt. It bled very little, and I decided it had not touched anything vital. Some links of my mail were in the flesh, but it would not kill me unless it got infected.
Outside, Ketill was gesturing towards the cave, evidently trying to cajole his leader into coming in. Ragwald shook his head and walked back and forth. Eventually, he stalked towards me. ‘Come boy. I will geld you, but I will make it easy for you. I could skin and then geld you, but I will take your nuts alone. There is no route out of there.’ He goaded me with obscene movements, and the Svear took out bows and arrows, and I retreated deeper into the dark cave.
I yelled back. ‘Why do you not go back to your village and retire, cripple. Perhaps they will let you herd cows?’ I dodged as the Svear shot some arrows at the sound of my voice.
I waited and looked out again and cursed, for the Svear had vanished. I began to listen to the sounds around me. When you are in such a predicament, of course, even the most innocuous sounds will make you jump with terror, and so I decided to concentrate on guarding the entrance. They were no doubt looking for a way in and no matter the sounds and taps and falling small rocks, the entrance was where they would have to come in from.
Unless there was another way in.
I prayed there was none. Around, I could see rocks and shadows, but nothing else, and so I stayed put and prayed to Woden. They let me pray for hours. The men outside made camp. They seemed content on sitting and waiting, one of them always on guard. They took out meat, and vegetables, and drank wine and mead, and my belly growled, and I cursed them. Finally, I moved around in the cave, as far as I could, trying not to make a single sound, but I could not help setting boulders rolling, and I noticed when they began to roll, they went downhill. And they would only stop far down in the darkness. I thought about going to investigate, but in the dark, I would fall, break my leg and die to Ragwald, helpless, and I was so afraid. I feared such holes in the ground. Would it not lead to the lands of the dead, and the vaettir were sure to travel these halls, I thought.
I stayed put.
I strained not to stare behind, fought not to make a sound, and I went on with my guardianship. Lif and Veleda. Odo was out there. I cursed and waited for the darkness. They would either come in, and I would kill the lot. Or I would go out and escape in the dark.
But the night was far.
I tried to calm myself again and stared across the land. The sight from the hill was spectacular. While Godsmount had looked like a rather low mount, it seemed I was high above the woods and fields even at the bottom of the actual mountain. The hills spread out under me, birds were flying level with me, and far, far away, I thought I saw the ridge where the battle had taken place. The castra was, perhaps, in sight; a brown smudge surrounded by a gray haze. Snakes of glittering rivers and streams were a calming sight, and vast stretches of hills and fertile valleys gave me some peace.
Then the men around the fires got up and pointed downhill, to the valleys beyond, and they quickly smothered their fire.
I got up and stretched my neck to see better.
Far down there was a stream of horses riding. Friends to whom, I did not know. At least Ragwald would eat raw meat, I chuckled. I smacked my dry lips and drank droplets of smelly water dripping down the side of the cliff. I spat it out for it was bitter, and my mouth felt raw after. I chuckled and cursed. There I was stuck in a hole, following a damn bird and thirsty and bleeding. Did the gods truly wish to kill me like this? I cursed in my head.
The day wore on.
It turned into an evening. The divine horses of the gods were fleeing Sköll and dragging down the sun, the moon would take its place, the celestial horses fleeing Hati, brother of Sköll. I searched the faces of my enemy and saw nothing but boredom. I did not see the Svear and felt tired. I slapped myself, then thought of the past day, the terrible battle, my hunger.
Then I fell to sleep.
Falling asleep on guard duty is a deadly offence, both for the Germani and the Romans. In the Roman army, it violates the fides, the trust of fellow soldiers, and the punishment, especially in wartime, is death, or fustuarium, being beaten to death by one's mates, all armed with cudgels. That was the first thing I thought about when I woke up and my eyes trained on the five men I had been looking at before I fell asleep.
It was very dark.
But I saw them still.
They were close, very close, advancing on the cave. Torches flared, and the stabbing light hurt my eyes. They ran with shields and spears at the ready. I panicked, hissed at the pain in my side and retreated hastily, rolling to my feet. The men charged into the cave, throwing spears and stones at shadows, and I fled back, thinking to run down to the darkness.
I ran into a wall of muscle. My helmet crunched my nose as I fell to my ass.
Usually, bears range outside during the short summer days and nights, hunting deer, eating berries, making new bears and whatever it is bears like to do. They rarely return to their winter hideouts. The bear I had run into did not follow these sensible ursine habits, and when I looked up, there was an angry set of sharp, jagged teeth bared at my face from ten feet height, for the bear was on its hind feet, and obviously upset by our trespassing. It was easily the largest bear I had ever seen and must have weighted near two thousand pounds. The slap it gave me threw me amidst the hunters, and I lost both my shield and my spear as I fell over Ragwald, cursing because the bear had ripped my chainmail apart at the shoulder.
Smelling piss and fear, the bear bellowed hard enough to shake one out of his feet, and then it charged us.
I would see many of these bears fighting animals and men in the future, but there, in the crowded cave, there was no room to dodge. The bear ran like the fastest dog in the middle of our suddenly single-minded group and swatted the man with the iron helmet to the wall, where he moaned and crumbled. Then the beast fell on Hugo, clamping his claws on the boy’s head. What was left after he took his claws away was a screaming mass of skinless meat, and Hugo went rolling to the side, hollering and sobbing. The bear roared and charged one other man, who was backing off in horror, fell over him and we saw red meat fly in the air as he died. I got up with Ketill and Ragwald. We glanced at each other and charged.
Outside, the horses tore their holdings and ran away as the beast let us know the charge was not to its liking, or perhaps just in mockery of us.
We stabbed the raging bear from the front, Ragwald swatting it awkwardly with his left hand, an ax swing that just seemed to infuriate the furious beast even more. Ketill, his one remaining man was courageously punching a spear into the tough, messy fur, making it yelp and roar loud enough to make us all soil our pants. I took up a spear dropped by the man with the helmet and thrust at the bear’s throat and missed, ripping fur and skin. One would think such a cumbersome thing would not be so fast, but this one was very fast indeed, and it fell over me, its claws ripping at my helmet with enough force to pull bronze furrow
s across it. I crawled away from under it, felt its back paws crash down on me as it was banking and jumping in rage, and I was crushed to the stone. I cursed and kicked myself free, out of breath. I backed off as the bear concentrated on Ketill, who was now white with fear as he backed off.
The bear shuffled like a Greek boxer towards the man, screaming in anger and pain as the spear came for its gut once more. This time it went deeper and the growling ball of death fell on Ketill, biting savagely and tearing at his chest, arms and face, and my foe just went limp, spurting blood all over the floor, which the bear promptly licked while yowling curiously. Ragwald threw up at the sight, gathering bravery.
This was when the bear turned its eyes to me, and then it simply charged.
I cried in terror and ran for it.
I punched my spear up hard, very hard, as hard as I could at its face, hoping to hit the gory mouth. It was just about to roar and bite at me when the blade pierced its tongue, entered the soft meat of its mouth, sliced to the bone and entered its brain. Like the beast of Maroboodus had, Leuthard, this one died surprisingly quickly. The ferocious mound of muscles turned to decaying meat, the furry thing fell to the stone like a huge wet rug, burying me, snapping my spear and all I could do was to try to breathe. I tried to push it off me, but could not. Ragwald was there, and the two Svear entered, apparently having been scouting the column of the men below. I struggled as I saw their gleeful faces, and I chuckled in a panic, as I thought my nuts were safe under the dead animal. I knew I would be lucky to join the bear soon, but likely, I would do so later, and I thought of Lif and cursed wyrd and its fickle masters and the three spinners of misery.
The men saw I was helpless and checked the dreadfully mauled men. The one in the helmet shook his head and climbed and leaned on the wall while Ragwald stood above me like a conqueror. ‘So. I thank you for my life, Hraban. But that does not bring back my arm and my son,’ he hissed at me, and as he got closer, I slapped him with my left hand, and he went into a rage, tearing my helmet off with his good hand, throwing it out of the cave. The Svear snickered and took off their tunics. ‘Tie his arms!’ he told the men, and I saw the helmeted man lean back, looking at the ceiling. The hunters did it efficiently, not saying much, even if I had killed their brothers. One of them was old and grizzled. He saw me look at him, and he shrugged.
The Winter Sword: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 3) Page 44
