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

by Alaric Longward

  He spoke with a strange, yet strangely familiar accent. ‘No, they were no relatives. Just men I hired. You fought well,’ he whispered to me. ‘You are of the Gothoni? We used to fight your kin in the north. Lost a king once to your father. And the Star of the Snow.’ He giggled. ‘She was a beauty. I was young, but I remember.’

  I shook my head, trying to clear away the fear. ‘My father?’

  ‘Ask him one day. There was war and—’

  ‘Shut it,’ Ragwald said disdainfully. ‘He is meat, not a friend. You don’t speak to your meal.’

  I fixed an eye on the Svear, and he nodded, almost apologetically. ‘We have this habit, you need not fear. You will be dead. Your heart. We will have it.’ They dragged me out from under the bear and stood me up. The arrow had broken in my flesh, and the younger Svear tore the rest out, making me swoon.

  ‘Hold him,’ Ragwald said as he walked back and forth, and the Svear did as they were told, grabbing my hair as Ragwald took out a knife. He lifted my chainmail and placed it to rest at my genitalia.

  ‘Now. This will go,’ he lifted the knife higher, nearly making a wound, and I tried not to flinch. ‘But first, I will skin off your face. Then your arms. I will piss on your raw flesh, boy, and thus is my medicine taken.’

  He pressed the knife behind my ear, drawing blood. ‘I will rip it off, and know, boy, that sometimes eyes come off at the same time. They will flow on your raw cheeks, Hraban. Then we are both crippled.’ He laughed and was tensing for a slow cut when the man in a helmet got up. I saw him swoon as if a man who has lost his soul, shaking his head in denial. I heard him sigh.

  Then he hacked an ax into Ragwald’s spine so hard that the wolf pelt flew off his shoulders.

  The Svear looked up in alarm and stared at their dying lord, who was now kissing the bloody floor. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ asked the older Svea. ‘You betrayed your lord!’

  The helmeted man laughed. ‘I am saving my former lord!’ He shook off his helmet and his long, blond, sweaty hair came spilling out. The helmet fell on Ragwald’s side.

  It was Wandal.

  His face was leaner than it had been, his blond beard shorter, but the strong bones, the lion-like face was as stubborn and feral as I had seen it the last time. In battle.

  I made an audible croak at the wonder of my friend. Wandal, my companion from childhood, the boy who had followed me as I had tried to reverse my fortunes with Father. And he had saved my life before, and now again. The boy who had fallen in Castra Luppia when father made himself a hero of all the free Germani, and the one I had sworn to find.

  Wyrd!

  It was indeed the summer to deal with all the hardships of our lives. The bad and the good.

  Wandal was taller than I was, stronger than a mule, for his father was Euric, a blacksmith and so was Wandal, and now he was enraged. He stalked the Svear with his shield held high, and the two men turned on him, lithely running to each side of the young champion. He backed to the wall, but not before the younger Svear slashed his broad-bladed spear at his arm, and this was when I jumped after that enemy, slipping the cords in my hands over his head and pulling him back, hurting from the wounds and scratches, and my head throbbed with pain, but I didn’t let go. Wandal blocked the attacks of the older man, who was cursing, glancing at our struggle, and he then decided he would not be able to break Wandal. He dodged my friend’s savage ax strike and ran out into the dark. The man on my chokehold was panting and gurgling, and my muscles were aching, and he tried to gouge my eyes, but his strength was failing, and I felt warm liquid spread on my legs as he pissed himself and slowly died.

  All that time I stared at my friend.

  Wandal had taken up a bow and was aiming at the distant shadow running down the hill and he let loose, the arrow sprung to the night. I was panting and hurt and let go of the man. ‘Did you hit him?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I am terrible with bows. But who cares, eh?’ He looked at me long and hard and grunted as he dragged the body off me, and I thanked him with a nod as he pulled me up to a sitting position. ‘So. I have heard a great deal about you, my friend,’ he said, and I laughed, laughed until tears poured from my eyes, and he chuckled but went serious.

  ‘From whom?’ I asked him.

  ‘Armin,’ he said.

  ‘Armin?’ I asked, incredulously. ‘Yes, you were with Armin! When I tried to capture him. What happened to you when I lost you?’

  He snorted. ‘After I fell from the wall, I was taken a prisoner by the Vangiones. There were many others, and when your father wrecked their army and that of the Matticati, we escaped. Yet, as you recall, your father was no friend of mine.’

  ‘Thanks to me,’ I allowed.

  ‘Thanks to you, eh?’ he agreed. ‘I ran north. There were others, and the Matticati hunted us down, one by one. They were a bit furious, eh? Very furious after the losses of their lands and lord. Some made it across the hills to the lands of the Tencteri and Sigambri. The Matticati sacrificed many to Donor. I made it.’

  ‘I have something to tell you,’ I said, thinking about my failure with Ermendrud.

  He raised his hands. ‘A warlord of Varnis found me, starving and robbing a winter cellar.’

  ‘Wandal—’

  He slapped me. Then again. ‘You lied to me, eh?’

  I spat blood and nodded.

  ‘I gave you my oaths, my friendship, and you gave me a woman. You told me I was her savior; she needed me and yet, you were but abandoning a girl that was not high enough for you. You shit! You had slept with her, she was pregnant, she lost the baby for fear of being alone, and then she died to Leuthard when you did not look after her. And you told me she was not yours. You wanted a princess, Gunda.’

  ‘All of this is true, Wandal,’ I said, and he slapped me again.

  Then he looked at his hand and shook his shoulders. ‘It did not feel as good as I thought it might, eh?’

  I agreed. ‘I wanted to kill my father and had him under my sword. I know what you mean.’

  He laughed roughly. ‘All the shit I hear you went through to kill him, losing my Ermendrud to Leuthard and then when you had him? Eh? You let him live?’ He raised his hand again, this time in a fist, but let it fall. He rubbed his forehead. ‘Armin bought me from the Sigambri. He was visiting the Sigambri before the great battle, making plans, and he remembered my face. He was going to give me to you after Drusus died at your hands, but then I heard of Ermendrud, and you joined Drusus. And so I joined Armin. With all my heart. To oppose you.’

  ‘Were you with him? In the battle?’ I asked him in wonder.

  ‘I blew his horn, Hraban.’ He grinned. ‘When he was leading his troops, I carried his standard. I loved his dream, and you had killed mine. I wanted to slay you that day Thusnelda put you down, but he told me to be patient, eh?’

  ‘I vowed to search for you,’ I said miserably. ‘I loved you and love you. And I have failed.’

  He nodded. ‘I saw you nearly kill Rochas. I saw you trying to take Armin’s life. Then I saw you bring Thusnelda to Armin, and I hated you. I knew you wanted him and Lif, both.’

  ‘I see,’ I said and lay back. ‘Yes, all of that is true.’

  ‘I smiled when I heard Catualda had taken you to Segestes,’ he admitted, looking away. ‘And hated me. You were so mad. Mad with your fame, your precious honor, your position and never stopped to think what your friends had, eh?’

  ‘I know, Wandal,’ I said with anger, but not at him, but at myself.

  ‘Ansigar had nothing. They had two cows, and a rotten hall, no fields, and his uncle was a drunk,’ he spat. ‘Ansbor lost his father the same day your mother and Hulderic fell. And I? We had the smithy. Sometimes we had no food. I ate with Hulderic and your mother, very often. Remember? Euric would send me to your hall in the mornings so I could get some porridge. We visited your grandfather’s grand hall, your friends and followed you for we loved you and the thought of you. A grand lord? One day? A friend
and a lord, Hraban. These were the things we saw.’

  ‘I failed,’ I told him plainly.

  ‘Yes, you failed. When you lost it all, you failed to rise above your father. Had you asked, we would have left with you. But you fought to get yours back. At any cost. It has been a very fucking high cost, Hraban. Very high, eh? I think we all have lost much more than we had to.’

  We stared at each other, and after a while he sat down. I shook my head, holding it for a moment, hurting. ‘So, how come you are here?’

  ‘Armin sent me to serve with Ragwald. They had never seen me, and I was useful to Ragwald. I was to keep an eye on Segestes,’ he told me. ‘And ...’

  ‘And you were to slay him during battle?’ I asked with a laugh. ‘I asked a man of mine to make sure Armin survives the battle. To become a prisoner.’

  ‘You what?’ he asked, incredulous.

  ‘I decided Drusus should hold him before he dies in this war,’ I stated. ‘Thusnelda asked me to keep him alive. I did. Though not entirely as she asked.’

  ‘Oh? Well,’ he scowled at me and finally laughed, rubbing his face. ‘I suppose it might save him. I failed Armin. I was hovering near Segestes when I saw him giving Catualda commands. To find you. I hesitated, knew I had a duty with Armin, but for some reason I could not keep my oath. I begged Ragwald to let me come with him. He agreed.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know; I told you! Because they were after you? I was undecided if I wanted to see you die or to kill you myself.’

  ‘How do you feel about it now?’

  He took a deep breath and sighed deep. ‘I heard you spared your fucker of a father and that I cannot understand, eh? But I hear you have a new, better life, and you have a daughter.’ His voice cracked as he said that.

  ‘It was mine, Wandal. Ermendrud’s child was mine,’ I said softly. ‘And I am sorry I duped you with her.’

  He snorted. ‘I knew it, I just told you. I look and sound like a mule, Hraban, but I am not so stupid as to think a child is mine without bedding the woman, eh?’ He grunted and pushed me. ‘But you told Ermendrud I was a good man, and I found she was a girl worth knowing, despite the lies. No. She saw you like we did; an escape. And then she loved you, for a moment. Until you betrayed her. But she loved me after and that is no lie. And then you let her die.’

  ‘She wanted to show us she was brave,’ I said, tears running down my cheeks. ‘She went to the woods crawling with the enemy. She went after Ishild, who left Lif with me as she went to care for her son, Odo’s and hers. Leuthard found her in the woods.’

  ‘Was it an easy death? Eh?’ he asked, desperate for the right answer, and I gave it to him.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, and he knew I lied. He nodded and looked away.

  ‘Odo up there on the mountain?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. He went up the ridge. He is following a raven,’ I said and looked at the bear. ‘And I guess the Bear was only a bear. Lok’s prophecy is taking place and all I wish to do is to get Lif.’

  ‘An unselfish act may yet the doom postpone,’ Wandal recited. ‘Right?’

  ‘I left Father alive.’ I grinned. ‘But I guess that does not count. I’m not sure what the damned act might be, but I will go up there and give away my life for them if I have to. I care not to recite the lines anymore. The raven is going up there, and I shall go there as well, and I think it has been destined to be so since I met Father. Tear warned me not to fight it.’

  Wandal nodded. ‘Armin told me the route goes up the left peak.’

  ‘He told me he had a man who would know the way,’ I said. ‘He didn’t tell me it was you.’

  ‘I think he hoped to reconcile us.’ Wandal smiled. ‘His mother was a vitka,’ Wandal said. ‘And took Armin there when he was a child.’

  I rubbed my face and thanked Woden for his great gift. I picked up the spear, a shield and went out for my helmet and placed it on my head. ‘I will go to Rome after this. I married Cassia, and I have a troop of Batavi. And some others. I will serve Nero Claudius Drusus …’ I faltered and hoped he was alive and would survive. ‘He is a good man.’

  Wandal shrugged. ‘As long as they are not your selfish goals and those of a … good man, I will join. But goddess Siff save you under her skirt if you should lie to me again.’

  ‘I will need you to keep me on track,’ I said with a deep bow. ‘I will go with Drusus too, and I will see why Father left us, betrayed us. I wish to understand him and fight for fine causes. If Father survives and builds his kingdom, I will follow Drusus against him, perhaps, but for Drusus, not me. Perhaps we get our land back? Many things will change. But I will no longer rush to get you lot killed. I will consider you lot before my needs.’

  ‘Lot?’

  I smiled. ‘Tudrus the Younger and his brothers. Others.’

  He grunted. ‘Gods. The Quadi. Fine. If your Drusus survives, we will follow him,’ Wandal said with a gruff voice as if unsure. ‘Lif? Your daughter. I would see her. I am sure she is prettier than you.’

  ‘I saw her years ago,’ I said and tried to remember her face.

  ‘She walks now, eh?’ Wandal said. ‘And speaks!’ He got up and picked up the plain iron helmet. I was staggered by his plain wisdom. She speaks?

  He clasped me briefly and nodded at me. ‘Let’s rest for the night. We will break our legs out there on the mountain. We will bandage each other like we used to, eat their food and tomorrow, go and kill Odo.’

  ‘Yes, Wandal,’ I stated and left to rummage the bags of our enemies.

  CHAPTER 36

  Outside, a pale morning stunned us as we stepped out of the cave. There was a clear sky for a change, and it was promising to be a hot day. I squinted up the mountain’s side. ‘They must be far away. The damned raven is long gone,’ I complained to Wandal.

  Wandal pushed me aside and looked up, as well. ‘There is a trail up there. It’s rocky and gritty as a Jotun’s face, but we will make it. Don’t worry now, eh? We have to go up and see what’s to be done.’

  ‘Fine,’ I agreed with misery. ‘No horses?’

  ‘The bear spooked them.’

  I began to climb for where I had seen Odo’s men the day before. I shook my head. ‘Hopefully they camped for the night at least. Mad to try to ride up the mountain at dark.’

  ‘Odo is mad,’ Wandal said unhelpfully and hefted his ax and a shield, and some bows and arrows.

  ‘Thank you,’ I snorted. ‘I hope that damned raven was a coincidence and led them someplace far.’

  But it was there.

  High above, still circling the peaks, running the winds between two high rocky formations, the raven was still there. And up there, high, near the bird sat Odo’s troop. They were still, staring at the thing as the bird was flying higher and higher as if they had spent the day there, frozen in time. The crevasse split the road before them to right and left. ‘Perhaps it was waiting for me?’ I said with hope and some pride for the thought of such a divine messenger to take note of me.

  ‘It’s a damned bird,’ Wandal huffed. ‘Probably has a nest there, and the fools will rot staring at it. I ...’ he began but looked astonished as I ran up the trail, clutching my sword. Even if Odo’s men were an hour away at least, I felt too anxious to take it slow. Wandal ran after me and tackled me down. He looked after the riders flitting in and out of the trees upon the higher ground. ‘Just wait. They will ride us down, eh?’

  I nodded. ‘The filthy bit of gristle is up there. Closer to Lif than I am.’

  He squinted his eyes. ‘The bird is keeping them busy for now. Armin said the road led to the left peak.’

  ‘And Odo could not find this earlier?’ I cursed. ‘All he had to do is to ride up here and search until he finds the place.’

  ‘The Cherusci guard the mountain,’ Wandal told me while pulling me up. ‘Now? With the war? Not so much.’

  ‘Damned bird is just fluttering around,’ I cursed. ‘Surely it will have to go and find some carcass to peck at s
ome point?’

  ‘Let us hope there is something like that on the right side of the ravine.’

  We climbed slowly, keeping to the shadows, constantly looking up. The bird was a spec, Odo’s people were waiting patiently, with only Ansigar riding back and forth, trying to find out where the routes led.

  Then the raven croaked, high up in the air and purposefully rode the winds to the right side of the ravine.

  Wandal clapped my back and grinned. ‘It’s a damned nice bird. Now, let us go for they are leaving. We can pick up the speed, no? Don’t alert them, eh?’ We ran up, soon panting heavily, looking at a trail of men on a track leading through some woods for the right peak, trekking higher on the edge of the crevasse.

  ‘So what are we looking for? Exactly,’ I panted as I slid back some steps.

  He shook his head. ‘Woden’s Plate is up there on the left. Somewhere.’

  I was huffing as I climbed over small, man-sized rocks. ‘How the Hel did they get horses up there?’

  ‘Went around these, no doubt. Climb and bitch less!’ he answered.

  I nodded and huffed. ‘Woden’s Plate? Armin did mention it to me as well.’

  He pushed at my rear; I pulled at him, and we cursed at some small rubble that nearly took us back down the route. ‘That’s where they sacrifice, you see, the ancient vitka. It is the secret place, very holy place, and few Marcomanni come up here. Only true vitka and völva know of it, people high in the knowledge of the gods and their servants. They come here, shed blood, mumble requests, and here they are closest to Woden. Armin says there is a spring there, running down to the roots of the great tree of Yggdrasill, and this is the place Woden hears men's prayers the quickest. Before it, a large stone, flat and smooth,’ he said, and we reached the campsite of Odo. The land to the left looked inhospitable, but there was, perhaps, a small trail leading up it. Wandal nodded and pointed his finger that way. We began hiking for the left peak, leaving the gradually steepening crevasse on our right.