‘Where is it?’ she asked.
I put my hands out and held her, she held me, and we rejoiced and grieved together for we were alive and she was pregnant. ‘The sword will haunt its owner, but it is fine, for I hate the man.’
‘Very well, Hraban,’ she whispered. ‘Are we done with this?’
‘We will go to Rome. We will find who killed … Drusus, and I will serve Tiberius. I am not saying our lives will be easy and full of joy, but I am now driven by you and this.’ I put my hand on her belly. ‘My Lif is safe. As safe as life allows.’
She wiped a tear from her beautiful eye and nodded. ‘Thank you, Hraban.’
‘Oh,’ I added. ‘You are now a Roman noble.’
‘What?’ she asked, and I laughed and cried, for I was both happy and sad. My oath was kept, my Winter Sword was gone, and we would have a new beginning.
Next morning, Drusus died, aged twenty-nine, Imperator and Consul, my friend, and the legions grieved, they still do to this day, and with him died any hope of Rome restored to a Republic. Like the last warmth of the sun on a chilly fall day, his last breath swept away all hopes of Senate once again ruling Rome.
Next day, Wandal brought me my horse, Fulcher mocked Brimwulf, the Quadi sharpened their weapons and Gernot stared silently at us. We rode to Rome, and I guarded Tiberius Claudius Nero, who walked behind the pier carried by grim legionnaires.
With the prisoners, came Antius. And there, as well, was Armin, the son of Sigimer. He waved at me from his cage, and I nodded at him. I went to him, and he stared at me in pain. ‘I am not sure Thusnelda had this in mind when she asked you to help me.’
‘I kept you alive,’ I told him happily. ‘She will appreciate it.’
He looked hard into my eyes. ‘And if they strangle me in their cells?’
‘I will beg they make it quick,’ I told him.
‘You damned thing,’ he cursed.
‘I think they will keep you. Segestes needs to be kept in check, after all.’ I grinned.
He groaned and held his bound leg. ‘Perhaps. Hopefully, they do not need a sacrifice to celebrate the death of Drusus. If I survive this, we will be back.’
‘I am a Roman,’ I told him brusquely. ‘But perhaps you shall go home one day.’
‘Roman you are, yes. And so shall Arminius be,’ he laughed. ‘But Armin will come back one day. And Veleda told me you shall come with him. And you will not be married.’
I said nothing to him, fear gnawing at my innards. I guided my horse away.
For many years to come, Lord Thumelicus, we had a deadly adventure in Rome, as Tiberius worked out who betrayed Drusus. And I became the sword of the terrible lord.
And that of his mother, Livia.
- Hraban’s stories will continue early 2016 with the book Bane of Gods -
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AFTERWORD
H raban had decided on his course of action in Raven’s Wyrd. He had given up on his dreams of becoming a warlord, a ring giver, and a Marcomanni noble with a rich hall, a thousand men saluting him with foaming ale horns, and poems glorifying his deeds. Once fame is gone, it is in the human nature to believe no further good of the person, but Hraban also learned his honor and love more precious than the fragile, passing fame.
His home was gone. So was his tribe.
But he had a new one.
He was to become a Roman by the grace of Chariovalda, the Batavi noble and the lord to them both, Nero Claudius Drusus, the most celebrated warrior and famed Republican, who loved the north. Hraban gave his soul to Drusus, who accepted Hraban gladly. Though Drusus had many enemies, Hraban adopted his dreams and would have served the lord to the end of his days. And he did though that end came far too soon. Serving Drusus was fine with Cassia and Hraban’s remaining friends, for they too had seen so many die in Hraban’s pursuits of vengeance and regaining his daughter Lif.
And so it is Hraban marries Cassia and gives her his oaths over the family sword, the Head Taker. To Cassia, however, it is the Winter Sword, cold and deadly, representing despair and an unreasonable drive for vengeance for Hraban and those who follow him. She asks Hraban to put their pursuits first, and so Hraban promises her to be finished with all his grudges the following summer and then he will abandon the Winter Sword.
Both Drusus and Hraban still had loose ends to tie in Germania.
In this book, most of those ends are tied, one way or another. Hraban fights for Drusus and himself, finds some very evil men, more evil than he ever was, and even helps his former foe Armin survive the turmoil of the Cherusci. He exposes the treason of Drusus’s allies, and he finishes his dealings with the implacable Odo. He loses dear Lif though she prospers after.
By the end, the family’s sword the Head Taker and the great ring Draupnir’s Spawn are gone, perhaps for good. He did make a new enemy of the mighty Segestes and as for his father? They had a good, long talk.
Despite his oath to Cassia to turn a new page, the great man, Nero Claudius Drusus is dead. Hraban’s best and brightest hope for a better life and a proper lord is gone to Hades.
Instead, he serves the infamously morose, coldly practical Tiberius.
And that is where the next book, Bane of Gods, will pick up.
While the deep woods and rolling hills of Germania are left behind for now, and Hraban marches for the splendor and filth of Rome, he will find life is complicated in the land of Augustus. He will have powerful, demanding allies, and a very interesting set of enemies in the imperial family, for where there is ultimate power, there are those who wish to possess it, and only one can truly grasp it.
The age of Drusus was brief, glorious, and decisive. He was loved, and he was feared and gods know if Rome would have been a different place than that of Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, and Nero had Drusus but lived. And Germania might have been fully pacified, as well.
But it was not to be.
As for the wars of Drusus in Germania, it is clear there was a mighty push to pacify the restless lands. This was the Roman dream for decades to come until it was sullenly deemed impossible, and Rhine River was made the final boundary. During 9 AD to 12 AD, Nero Claudius Drusus fought hard to capture this land. He began relatively painlessly in the very north. Then he took on the Lippe River tribes, as it was in Raven’s Wyrd. Finally, in this book, he suffered the battle of Arbalo with the Cherusci and turned south the years after. There, he apparently put to flight the Marcomanni, the Quadi, and then the mighty Chatti. The year after, he again went after the Chatti and came back to the lands of the Cherusci. It is said he reached all the way to Elbe River, even getting in touch with the Suebi Semnones living across from it. Strange, magical happenings, a völva, and his tired troops made him turn back and somewhere along the route, he fell from his horse and died from the injuries.
That felt unworthy of him. Instead, what Maroboodus was hoping to accomplish, all the dreams of Drusus and schemes of Antius and Segestes had to culminate in a mighty battle. There is, of course, no documentation of a great battle at this time, but it was needed for this work of fiction.
After Drusus had died, Tiberius took over the legions and partially pacified all the remaining tribes, though that, of course, was only a temporary respite from wars. Later on, Tiberius would turn against the growing power of the Marcomanni and Maroboodus, but that will be yet another book, for then Armin shall return home.
I hope you enjoyed the Winter Sword just like I hope you enjoyed the book 1, the Oath Breaker and the book 2, Raven’s Wyrd.
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The Winter Sword: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 3) Page 50
