‘You’ll have to cut it first, you ...’
Odo continued. ‘Long have we kept our blood pure. Now it is ready to populate the world!’ he said, glancing at Lif in bliss, ‘and long shall our children rule after. The circle has closed.’ I stepped before the small girl to hide her from Odo’s eyes.
‘I said: it is not so easy to shear me, shepherd of corpses,’ I bellowed.
‘We will get it, nonetheless,’ he hissed. ‘Ansigar!’
He produced his bow, and around us the ten remaining enemy hefted their weapons. Wandal shuffled to cover Lif on one side and pulled at Veleda. ‘Inside? Eh?’
Veleda shook her head. ‘Cut the hair, Hraban,’ she said.
‘No!’ I breathed at her. ‘We will never obey him.’
‘It will be all right,’ she said and pulled my hand. ‘For some reason you think it is your duty to thwart Odo. Nobody ever asked you to. Trust me. Cut the hair and give us some time.’ I looked at her long and hard and growled until she nodded again. I kneeled, and she hesitated and then grasped a thick hank of my hair and cut savagely. Odo was watching and nodded at Ansigar, who put his bow down reluctantly.
‘Well done, sister,’ Odo chortled, near ecstatic with joy.
A long ululating call rang out. We all heard it, and whether it was a wild beast or truly a cock of strange worlds, a cock crowed the second time.
Odo bowed, his face slack with awe. ‘Fjalar crowed first. He did so in Jotunheim, and we all heard it. The giants know; the time is nigh. And now, the Dead Voice; that cock readies Hel’s armies so our lord can lead them! Only Kullingambi, the dark cock remains and then the gods must prepare for war. Heimdall’s horn shall blow, the dead and the Jotuns shall sail, and the armies shall meet ...’
‘Shut the Hel up,’ I said, stealing his moment. He had been speaking feverishly, happily, and I could see why. Had not his family waited all eternity, ever since the birth of the land for this very moment?
‘One more time shall the third cock crow,’ Odo panted, his eyes glistening with heat, ‘one more time.’
‘Veleda,’ I said miserably as Odo continued his speech.
‘Yes, Hraban? I said do nothing,’ she smiled.
‘He needs my hair,’ I whispered.
‘Yes. And my heart,’ Veleda confirmed. ‘Who knows if it is so, and I doubt the Ragnarök is a quick matter.’
‘He needs you,’ I said heavily. ‘I am sorry, Veleda,’ I said and grabbed her, wincing with pain from my wounds. Wandal was shocked into inactivity; so was our foe as I sprinted towards the well with Veleda.
‘Hold! Hold!’ screamed Odo, leaning on the stall in terror.
The enemy ran for me. Wandal killed one as he ran after us, and we all raced to the well. An arrow chunked into my back, the chainmail saving my life, but I fell forward, Veleda falling from my arms. I saw her face was calm, near serene as she regarded me. I got up and grabbed her again, the enemy at my tail, and then I was at the edge of the abyss, Wandal covering me with a snarling face as I dangled Veleda over the edge.
Odo’s face was white, and he trembled in impotent rage. The men around us dispersed as Ansigar pulled them back. Gernot was sitting near the hut, on his horse, looking at me. I had not noticed him riding in.
And Lif was near him.
I cursed and tried not to look that way. I sweated and trembled, for if I failed now, we would all fail. I called out to him. ‘Leave, the bastard spawn of a misshapen god, for you are not welcome here. Take your curs, or her heart will go to the under lands without your ungentle, murderous knife touching it.’
He shook his head in denial, sputtering and trembling.
Veleda was calm as she regarded me, and I shrugged at her apologetically.
‘Your plan has a flaw,’ Odo called at me, and I saw Ansigar standing at the door of the hut, his bow loosely aiming an arrow at Lif, who was looking at us all with huge, bright eyes, her cheeks wet with streaming tears. Odo smiled happily. ‘If I have no Veleda, then there is no need for Lif, either.’
I cursed them all. ‘Go away and try again later.’ I looked at my beautiful daughter as I contemplated a suicidal charge.
Odo looked up and then down and shook his head. ‘No. You see, I do not wish to wait. I am selfish, Hraban. I will not wait, and there will not be another time, another age with some other fool standing here, doing this. I want the honor. Lok will not understand if I fail, of course, but then, I don’t wish to lie. I want this, and I will have this or nothing. Now. Give her over, enjoy Lif’s continuous well-being and just let the last cock crow.’
‘Let me go, Hraban,’ Veleda said, and I shuddered.
‘I fail,’ I told her, my eyes traveling to Lif. ‘Again.’
‘No. You are a father. But you will be sad. For I said no proper parent will be unselfish and leave their child to die. But there are improper parents. Those driven mad by their family.’
I placed Veleda on the ground. ‘What?’
Odo’s face relaxed, and he was nodding empathetically, his red, filthy hair bouncing. ‘Come, Hraban. Do not look so glum. I might be merciful after this is done,’ Odo said maliciously.
‘You told me to trust you,’ I told her back. She did not move. ‘You told me I am a fool to think it is all about me. Why? And who is not the proper parent?’
‘Fool you are and trust Ishild, rather,’ she said sadly. ‘Trust her, for she no longer is a good mother, and she is half mad. And trust your brother. And fight, after. Fight hard and you shall not be alone. They are almost here.’ My eyes turned to Ishild, who was sitting on a horse, forgotten. The boy was there with her, and she was clutching him hard. Veleda continued. ‘She would not do this if there were no Odo,’ she told me. ‘Remember that.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I said.
She nodded at her sister. ‘Ishild told me that. I remember it when I was but a babe,’ Veleda said as I took reluctant steps towards Odo. ‘Ishild always loved me. She said she would spare me if it came down to it. If she suffered enough and was brave enough. And now she has suffered enough and is brave with madness. It is not your selfless act that the prophecy spoke of. And happily for us, she is no longer a loving parent.’
I looked at Ishild’s eyes, and she smiled at me sadly, and I understood what she was going to do. I could not stop her. And perhaps, I would not.
Ishild spurred the horse, the boy in her lap.
‘Yaah!’ she screamed as the horse charged forward, trampling a man reaching for it, and she cast a long, lasting look at me as she passed me. Then she screamed at her brother. ‘I’ll tell Lok your regards, Brother! He will be so disappointed!’ she yelled mischievously, sounding like the young, spirited Ishild again. Odo looked on, terrified as the steed carried his sister and son towards the well, the boy screaming on her lap. Then, her hair flying, she spurred the beast on to the slippery rock, then for the hole, water flying high. They fell on their side as the horse tried to stop itself, stumbling across the wet stone. It neighed in terror, Ishild gritted her teeth and kicked it, and they went forward into the wet hole and disappeared with no sound.
She was gone, and so was her son, the one who was to populate the world, and no cocks would crow for the third time.
There was a silence in the small valley.
The wind was blowing, and the mountain’s stunning flowers seemed an unsuitable setting for a scene so terrible.
Odo began to scream thinly.
He screamed and screamed in abject hopelessness and ran for the well, his eyes huge and round. He looked like a dirty spider as he skittered around the well on all fours, crying, and even baying like a wolf. I pulled Veleda behind me as I retreated with Wandal, shoving him away from the edge as Odo got closer. I saw Ansigar was in shock and had relaxed the bow, and Gernot had guided his horse next to Lif and had picked her up to his saddle. Odo was on the brink of the hole, staring with mad eyes down into the abyss, crying and cursing, for he had lost his son, his sister, and former lover.
&n
bsp; And Lok. He had lost his quest.
He whimpered, and cried, chanting and begging the gods to return the lost ones to the world, but that was not to happen. The raven that had guided us ruffled its feathers as if deciding that there was nothing more to see there and left.
Odo climbed slowly to his feet, his face a lank mask of shock. Slowly he walked to the well, holding his head, and after a while, he made a predictable decision. ‘Kill the girl, Ansigar, kill it, and I shall slay my sister after all, and perhaps the world will end, even if there are none to rebuild it. Get Hraban’s hair.’
‘You are a mad dog, Odo,’ I said and charged Ansigar, Wandal following me, hissing in pain. Ansigar gritted his rat-like teeth and turned to Lif, nodding at Gernot to push her down, but many things happened then.
Men rode to the valley, guiding their mounts over the stones and rubbles of the arch. Brimwulf was pulling an arrow from his saddle as grim Tudrus, Bohscyld, and Hund and three Batavi rode in, wielding spears and shields, axes and sword on their hips. They saw the enemy turning, only ten of them, and did not hesitate as they charged the foe. Brimwulf shot an arrow at one man, larger than most, and men began to die. Bohscyld jumped down from the saddle, Tudrus led the others as they formed a wall of wood and steel, tearing at the enemy who was coming at them singly or in twos.
I looked from Odo to Gernot, back and forth and Gernot, casually, pulled a knife with his hand as Odo was nodding with manic intensity. Gernot looked down at Lif, his eyes unreadable, then at me, and lifted his knife. ‘No!’ I screamed. I shook my head in denial and heard Odo laugh savagely at my distress.
Gernot dropped the knife to the ground and backed his horse away from Ansigar.
Ansigar pulled a cudgel, looking at Gernot in stupefaction. ‘He is your foe! Hurt him! Kill the girl,’ Ansigar screamed, gesturing at the little girl in his lap.
Gernot shook his head. ‘No. I don’t love Hraban. Never did. But he is my brother, my last kin, and I will not slay my niece for a mad dog. Be gone!’ He spurred his horse at Ansigar, who retreated for the Woden’s Plate.
I gazed at Gernot’s relieved eyes and pulled Nightbright. I turned to run after Odo. He blanched, shaking his head in disbelief and fled, running with his spindly legs as fast as he could. A man got in my way, hollering incoherently as he swung his ax, and I stabbed him through, casually, grunting as I eviscerated him, his bowels falling to the ground. I yelled at Odo. ‘All your threats are dust. Ishild, poor, mad Ishild died for you! I am loath to send you to her!’ I cursed as I got closer. His eyes lit up with hope as I had hoped they would. ‘But I won’t hesitate,’ I added and enjoyed perverse joy as his eyes filled with unfathomable fear. ‘Your kin is dead! All of it.’
He cackled, despite his obvious fear. ‘Gulldrum is dead. Not our kin! Lok is wise, Hraban. In the north? There are more! And they will find you, one day! Or your children. This game will play on!’
‘Silence, you corpse,’ I hissed, dancing after him.
I dodged as an ugly woman was running away from the fight with the Quadi brothers and Brimwulf shot her in the back. I stepped on her as I climbed the stone plate where Ansigar was grimacing at me, Odo behind him, his dagger shaking.
‘Ansigar. No whipping this time. This time you won’t get up until you reach Hel’s sad gates,’ I laughed. ‘There Ishild will marry you, finally, and perhaps you will enjoy her rotten embrace.’ Ansigar was licking his lips. Beyond the stone, I saw Bohscyld swing an ax so viciously at a man that his whole arm and shoulder flew in the air. There were but few of the enemy left, and I noticed Brimwulf eyeing Gernot uncertainly. He was sitting patiently on his horse, Lif with him.
The enemy ran.
The few, who could, skirted the terrible brothers and ran for the stone arch. There, a pair of savage dogs growled and ran at them, jumping at the fugitives, one tearing out a throat and another hanging onto a man’s crotch. Hands, the bounty hunter, stood there with a spear as he received the last two. The spears flashed and clashed, and they died, crying at his feet. Odo saw all of this, his dreams crumbling, but he turned his malevolent face to me and pulled his wand.
‘Fool, you are Hraban. There are others, I said. They will find her,’ he said despondently.
I grunted. ‘They will not find her, I will ...’
Odo spat. ‘You will be famous. A lord. Easy to find. So, you will leave her with Veleda. To take her with you would doom her. You shall be a father, but no better than your own. You will miss her from afar.’ I shook my head, but he laughed. ‘Yes, you will. You will learn how to avoid your child, never to see her again.’
I cursed him and attacked them. I drew Nightbright back and charged, and Ansigar countered me, surprisingly bravely. He dodged and swung his cudgel back and down, scoring a hit on my arm, but I growled the pain away and with Woden’s rage filling me, I slashed, slashed, and slashed until he fell on his back over the stall. I placed my foot on his throat and stabbed my blade in his belly, so deep it went through, and I laughed as I carved it up into his chest. He shuddered and finally died. I flicked the blade at my nemesis. ‘Wait, Odo. Your turn, just give me a second,’ I told the red-faced bastard, but he ran instead.
Brimwulf shot an arrow at him, missing, Hund sprinted for him, but it was Wandal who tackled the man on the ground. He held Odo, savagely twisting his hand, and I walked for them. ‘I spared my father, Odo, for he is my father, and I will judge him when I know him better. But you? I know you well enough.’ I charged forward, tore him from Wandal, pulled him to the edge of the waterfall. ‘There, your sister waits. Your son. And your mother will cry,’ I told him and rammed Nightbright through his belly. He huffed weirdly, hawking and sputtering, and I felt warm wetness on my hand as I sawed the blade back and forth, scratching his spine. I held him there and saw Woden’s Gift on his finger. I hesitated, grabbed it and sighed.
I let go of it.
Then I pushed him over, and he disappeared, so quickly it felt I had never known the bastard.
With him went Draupnir’s Spawn, and I crouched on the edge of the well, wondering if I had let it go deliberately. The Winter Sword. The Ring. All gone. Only Hraban was left.
I took a hand-sized rock and dropped it down the chute and it fell and fell, and I did not hear it hit the bottom. Perhaps it eventually hit the end of the worlds, bounced off the Yggdrasill’s bark and rolled at the Wyrd sister’s feet.
I held my head in sorrow for Ishild and flipped my helmet off.
I turned to Gernot as my friends gathered around us. Hands, the bounty hunter who had once worked for Father and then tried to capture Veleda, only to lose his heart to the chosen of the gods, went to his mistress. The dogs ran to lick my bloodied hands as I walked closer to Gernot. He looked at me calmly, not heeding or fearing the weapons pointing at him, his horse mimicking his master’s mood, eating grass with no worry in the world. I stood next to him, and Lif smiled at me. I gestured at him, he nodded and put Lif down with his one hand, and I grabbed her, taking her to the side.
Brimwulf came next to me, sitting down, he smiled at the young girl.
‘Pretty, like mine will be,’ he said.
‘She is pretty like her mother was,’ I told him, and he held a hand on my shoulder as I let tears fall. Lif was talking to me happily, explaining how she played with rabbits, learned herbs and spoke with plants, and I could not help but think of Ishild.
Hands came to us as well, smiling his greasy, fat smile as he tickled Lif’s chin, and I resisted an urge to gut him, but he had kept his word to keep Lif safe, and Lif smiled hugely at him, climbing onto his lap. I let her. ‘Worry not, Hraban, I do not pretend to be her father,’ he said. ‘But I will brag about her, when she grows older, that it was I who found her father’s band and guided them to save the day. I was going to find you, but you were involved with a bear, and I passed you by. I simply missed you. I saw the beast as we came up. Quite a monster. Lif will love you, but she will think you a fool, for she is very, very prudent.’ I eyed Tudr
us, who was laughing with Wandal, for they knew each other from our childhood. Wandal was in pain, and I knew our lives would ever be full of danger.
I nodded to myself. ‘As long as she thinks of me as a father.’
Hund stirred near us, his customary smile hidden. ‘Do you mean she is not coming with us?’ He looked at me incredulously.
‘She cannot,’ I said, my voice breaking, longing and fear hurting me almost physically. ‘Veleda was wrong and right, both.’ I glanced in her direction. ‘Mine is also a selfless act this day. And it kills me inside. She stays.’
Hands nodded. ‘Say goodbye to her then. She will know you as a brave man’ He scowled as he looked around. ‘Though I will likely have to clean up your mess alone. Fenfir’s ashen tail! You lot look almost as dead as the corpses!’ He was right. Only Tudrus was unhurt, and the rest looked terrible. I got up, kissed Lif’s cheek, and she squeezed my finger, unaware she had lost a mother, and a brother. And now, a father. I grabbed something from my belt.
‘Give her this,’ I said and handed Hands the ancient weapon, Wolf’s Bane. The spear glittered in the air.
‘Toothpick?’ Hands asked as he looked at it. ‘Old.’
‘It was the spear of Aristovistus. King of the Suebi. Our ancestor. I cannot give her anything of my family,’ I said. The ring was gone, gone with Odo, and I did not miss it, after all. ‘It is a mighty, powerful artifact.’
‘She will surely appreciate such a device. She will dress it up in a robe and put it to sleep every night,’ Hands said with gentle mockery but bowed to my scowling face. ‘Yes, she will have it. And we will tell her it’s history, a fine one full of brave deeds, even if I have to invent some.’ And so, Hands took her to Veleda.
The Winter Sword: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 3) Page 48
