“Did you really think Captain Gauron was going to keep her behind a wagon, Lord Gedron?” laughed the King. “Aye, I love her so much, Gedron! No man ever had such a wife as her!”
Almost as soon as King Sigurd had said this, Queen Gwynnalyn was at his side and said, “The Axemen and Archers stand ready, My Hunter!”
“Good work, my heart! Good work!” replied the King.
The King’s column stopped just short of the makeshift stockade and turned. The Queen removed her sling and placed a smooth stone into it. She swirled it above her head just as Ergbold sounded the signal on his trumpet! A shower of steel axes and steel-tipped arrows rained down upon Korgan-Tal and his Slaughter-Wolves, just as Lord Gedron’s column slammed into the rear ranks of the unsuspecting Scythians! The fight locked in the air of time and slowly the Slaughter-Wolves fell, unable to resist the onslaught of the Getic Freedom fighters.
“Look, sire. We have these prisoners! It is Korgan-Tal and Kagan the Ugly!” said an Axeman as he and several blood-stained comrades dragged up the wounded Scythian officers and presented them to the King and Queen.
“Well, it is Korgan-Tal of Scythia! And Kagan the Ugly!” chuckled Queen Gwynnalyn. “Look, my husband, at the pitiful faces of the men who would conquer the world.”
The King removed his helmet and slowly walked around the two Slaughter-Wolves, saying, “Thanes and Ealdormen, here before you on their knees are the men who have made our wives into widows! Men who have made human sacrifices of our children and drinking goblets of the heads of our elderly!
“Korgan-Tal! The animal! And Kagan the Ugly, who takes meat from the mouths of younglings and makes of them Thralls in the Mead Hall of King Idanthrsus! You cannot have your way with us any more! Ealdormen, we could execute them here and now. But a King is not above the law. Our law says that they must stand before the Council of Ealdormen and the Law Speaker, and there be judged! So shall it be done, even in the case of the vilest of wretches! Take them away bound until judgement, my Thanes!”
“You will not live long to gloat over your small victory here, Thrall Sigurd!” declared Korgan-Tal. “You are no King, Thrall Sigurd! There is one King in this land, Idanthrsus!”
“Yes, Korgan-Tal, and I wonder what His Grandness would say of you now? A general who walked into the trap of a Thrall!” replied King Sigurd with a laugh.
The warriors were tending to the wounded and the sound of wailing and lamentation could be heard as families cried for the losses they had suffered that day in the battle of Wodenburg, for forty men lay dead. Others would soon die from their grievous wounds and still others would live as maimed invalids. The funeral pyres would light the night up, and these noble, brave warriors would be welcomed into Valhalla, the halls of the honoured dead, there to await Ragnarok.
It was a good thing that the men were still on alert! As if this battle were not enough, a flying group of Gargoyles swooped in to attack!
Korgan-Tal looked at Kagan the Ugly and said, “They’re late! They should not have bothered to show up!”
Two great reptilian Gargoyles swooped down on the Axemen who had been taking the two Slaughter-Wolves away!
“It’s Gargoyles! Return to arms, my brothers!” shouted the King.
These hideous things were trying to get at the men with their feet from the air, although some landed and drew swords to fight! Six creatures assaulted the Getic Axemen taking away the Scythian prisoners! The fighting was hand-to-hand! Then in swooped a very large black Gargoyle and picked up Korgan-Tal and began to fly away with him in his grasp! Before another could get away with Kagan the Ugly, young Prince Sigmund raised his bow and fired an arrow at the monster! It pierced the creature’s left wing and it dropped Kagan the Ugly from twenty feet in the air! He landed hard and was impaled through the navel on a sharpened pole which had been placed in the ground before the battle, as a marker for the location of the new Mead Hall. The other creatures soon retreated, getting away with Korgan-Tal and leaving behind six dead Gargoyles. The bodies of these demons were quickly dragged downstream and away from the camp and set ablaze. The King and Queen and all the people watched as their greatest enemy escaped, to possibly come after them again, assuming that the Scythian King allowed him to leave after this debacle.
“Don’t worry, my Hunter. I think he’ll not be back for quite some time. Until then we have a Kingdom to build, you and I, my love,” said the Queen.
Though frustrated at first, King Sigurd knew his beloved Queen was right. So, surrounded by their Thanes and Ealdormen, the royal couple walked back to the makeshift stockade and prepared to get the camp organised once more, and hopefully begin rebuilding their old home here at Wodenburg. Lord Volsung and Lady Gerda, with the Princess Greta and Prince Sigmund, were there to help.
The camp was set and thoroughly guarded. Here back at their old ring fortress called Wodenburg, they built a great council fire, for they had no longer had a Mead Hall in which the King could hold court, for it had been burned to the ground a few years ago. The King and Queen held council with all fifty Ealdormen of the tribe’s Witan to discuss what to do.
The King spoke. “Brothers, today’s battle had to happen. Even though we have won our first clear victory over the Scythians and Gargoyles since the burning of Wodenburg, this Midgard war has only just begun. We came here to Wodenburg knowing full well that our old Capitol city had been destroyed and our Mead Hall burned, rather than stay at Kumanborg, We have a choice, Ealdormen. We cannot stay here and try to fight off the Slaughter-Wolves and their allies alone! I do not think we will long survive such a war against the combined power of the Scythians, the Sarmatians and the Cimmerians, not to mention their creature allies the Gargoyles and the Ogres and the Goblins! We do have another choice, my Ealdormen.”
There was a sudden round of unsettled murmuring among the assembled Witan of Getic Ealdormen. Lord Volsung spoke above it and said, “I know you, sire, King Sigurd! There must be a better choice for us all. Say on, oh King.”
The King replied to Lord - Volsung and the entire assembly, saying, “The scouts have returned with important news. Ealdorman Lord Gedron, my chief of Staff over the Army, whom you all know and trust, speak.”
The Queen’s twin brother arose before the assembly, saying, “The scouts have brought back word. Our brothers the Gepids of Thorstadt have risen against the Slaughter-Wolves in conjuction with us. King Osrik will join the battle at last!”
There went up a resounding cheer from the Ealdormen, but Lord Gedron was not finished.
“Brothers, listen, for there is more. Let Lord Gedron say on,” commanded the King.
“Word has come as well that the land is warming in the north and the glaciers are breaking apart. New trees begin to grow and fresh grass. The herds are moving north. The rivers are filling with fish. The Elk and Reindeer have started going ever northward in Midgard as well as has the great Mastodons and Mammoths. But there is more. Word has come that the Dwarf King Togrobeg moves north with the entire nation of the Yuralian Dwarf people to the mountains where the ice has melted. There they will build a new Kingdom and will call it Ariemel.” There was a round of low murmuring and concern now that Lord Gedron had said this.
Ealdorman Siggier spoke up in indignation, saying, “So that coward Togrobeg runs away and will not fight the Slaughter-Wolves! The Empire has suppressed the Dwarves as much as they have done to us and yet as soon as an ice wall falls in the north and some new grass grows they run and leave their friends behind! What for? For to mine gold; to grovel in the earth for treasure! Do they not know that if we lose this fight the Slaughter-Wolves will follow them into Ariemel and seize all they will strive to earn? They too will suffer the fate of Wodenburg and Helmgard and all the other cities in Tervingia.”
The Witan began to shout in anger! Some for the Dwarves and some against; and the King raised his voice and said, “Now let there be order, Ealdormen! We are all free men here in this land, as are the Dwarves! There is no cowardice there.
The place where King Togrobeg Andarvarson goes may become a last refuge for us if we lose this war, brothers, so let us not make enemies of those who have suffered as much as we have. Maybe not now, but the time will come when Togrobeg will act. I have to believe that of my old friend. And I would not have started this rebellion if I thought that we would all suffer the fate of Helmgard and become Thralls. But now our need is more urgent than Dwarf disputations. We have another choice, other than to rebuild Wodenburg here right now. If we do not wish this war, we too can migrate north. We can follow the herds as do the Dwarves into the north via Thorstadt as the ice melts. What say you, brothers? Also, we can choose to stay on in Thorstadt and fight alongside Osrik the Bald.”
This time there were no angry outbursts from the Getic Council of Ealdormen. A quiet discussion ensued among them all.
After a bit, Lord Volsung, Father of the Queen, spoke, saying, “As the King has said, we can move north and find this new land. A land where we can bring down the Mammoth, Elk or the Muskoxen, where there is meat aplenty. But we will not escape the war, Great King. Korgan-Tal escaped justice today because of the Gargoyle Sparga and his small host. I do not believe that King Idanthrsus will be rid of Korgan-Tal in spite of his defeat at our hands today. No, Korgan-Tal will be back, and next time in greater numbers as the Scythians regather their horde and follow us to Thorstadt. So, Great King, I propose that we do both. We first join forces with Osrik against the Slaughter-Wolves. Then, having defeated them, we follow the herds as far as we can and there build a new Kingdom, and there a great Mead Hall and brew very much ale in peace.”
He sat down and the King replied, “Let me know the vote of the council on this matter, brothers.”
The wait was not long. The Ealdormen knew what the right course of action was. Lord Volsung rose and spoke with a pitcher of ale in his right hand and said, “Good King, it is our advice that we march on the morrow to the land of Rha and there join with our brothers under King Osrik. This is so that we find the best way to destroy the Slaughter-Wolves and their allies on their own ground. We must regain our lands and free all of Tervingia.”
King Sigurd looked at his beloved Queen and their eyes met and locked. They nodded and, turning back to the council, he said, “Scap Rolf, faithful First Minister, Law Speaker and time keeper. Remember this for the history of our people that it may be recounted from generation to generation in the oral annals of our people. What day does your Runic Calendar say that it is?”
The wise sage looked at his Rune Stav by the light of the burning fire and replied, “Great King, this be day eight, of the Manod of Harpa and Skerpla, of the 592nd year of the Age of Noach.”
“Good, Scap Rolf. Let it remembered this day that we Getic have decided to march to the land of the River Rha and join with King Osrik and his Gepids. So let it be remembered, so let it be done!” announced the King.
“Return to your tents and hearths, oh Ealdormen,” commanded the Queen. She stood from her chair, as did the King, and the two of them walked towards their royal tent through the midst of the Ealdormen and the people who stood on either side of the pathway, while her ladies-in-waiting, Aestrith and Borghild, took away the chairs. A unit of Thanes preceded King Sigurd and Queen Gwynnalyn led by Guaron, Captain of the Guard, and the people chanted, “Long live the King! Long live the Queen!”
They retired to their tent, and, away from the need to be political, they were once again just a Husband and Wife. They were the best of friends and so much bonded in love that they would have no others. As they made ready for rest, Gwynnalyn lay under the blankets and tears began to fall. She sobbed in silence and only the tears from her eyes told her husband that his wife needed his embrace.
“My Heart,” he said softly, as he lay down and took her in his arms. With a small clean cloth he wiped away each tear, saying, “My love art thou, thou art my heart.”
Gwynnalyn, with her head on Sigurd’s chest, said, “I want so much to believe what Thor said about us having a child. I have not given you an heir, Sigurd. I feared you would take another wife like other kings do when their wives cannot conceive.”
Those words brought more tears even to the King. Sigurd turned her face into his. Their cheeks touched and he said, “I am not other kings, My Heart. I will have no one but you in marriage, my love, nor will I embrace any concubine in Midgard. When one has found that soul-mate whom he truly loves, he is a fool if he discards her or she a fool who discards the one who adores her! I believe that we will have many sons and daughters, just as spoken by Thor. Even the Priestess Byrnhilda has fortuned this, My Heart. But even were it not so, I would embrace no other, for thou art my beloved mate of soul. If we have no son, young Prince Sigmund shall be the next King.”
She replied, “He would be a good King, but let Thor’s words be true starting this night, My Hunter.”
The very next morning, the tribe began once more their northward trek. War had been thrust upon King Sigurd and his people and they must join their brothers. It was either this or be Thralls of the evil Scythian Slaughter-Wolves and their Samaritan allies and their Imperial Steppe Confederation. What lay ahead, they knew not, but they would face it together. And thus began the first Midgard War.
Korgan-Tal was wroth as he was taken in before the Scythian King Idanthrsus. This King was five feet and eight inches tall. His skin was sun-darkened and his hair was jet black and long. His royal attire consisted of a long pointed hat, an open tunic and a pair of trousers tucked into soft leather boots. The King was dressed in red and gold, while those around him dressed in a similar style, but with material woven from plain-weave wool, hemp cloth, silk fabrics, felt, leather and hides. These people were also known as the Saka. Men and the warrior-women, who were known as Amazons, wore tunics, often embroidered, adorned with felt appliqué work, or metal (golden) plaques.
They appear to be a sewn, long-sleeve garment that extended to the knees and belted a belt to which the owner's weapons were fastened. Men and Amazon warrior-women or Serpent Maisens wore long-sleeve tunics that were always belted, often with richly ornamented belts. The Altay Saka wore shorter tunics and more close-fitting tunics than the Pontic steppe Scythians. Some Saka wore a short belted tunic with a lapel on the right side, upright collar, ‘puffed’ sleeves narrowing at a wrist and bound in narrow cuffs of a colour different from the rest of the tunic.
Common Scythian women wore long, loose robes, ornamented with gold plaques, and wore shawls richly decorated with golden plaques. Men and women wore coats of many varieties, from fur to felt. They could have worn a riding coat that later was known as a Median robe or Kantus. Long sleeved, and open. Men and women wore long trousers, often adorned with metal plaques and often embroidered or adorned with felt appliqués; trousers could have been wider or tight-fitting, depending on which tribe they came from; for, indeed, all Scythia was represented in the Royal Court.
Men and Amazon warriors wore variations of long and shorter boots, wool-leather-felt gaiter-boots. They were either of a laced or simple slip-on type. Women also wore soft shoes with gold plaques. Men and women wore belts. Warrior belts were made of leather, often with gold or other metal adornments, and had many attached leather thongs for fastening of the owner’s gorytos, sword, whet stone, whip, etc. Belts were fastened with metal or horn belt hooks, leather thongs and metal (often golden) or horn belt-plates.
Korgan-Tal was thinking, “How dare I be dragged in this way and thrust to the ground!”
That being done, the King spoke, “I believed in you, General Korgan-Tal, and you caused me to be humiliated in the face of Sigurd and his pathetic band of rebels! Had it not been for our Gargoyle allies, all would have been lost! Did I not say to wait? But you! I am growing tired of this insubordination! Were it not for your past glory, I would have made a sacrifice of you to the gods and made a goblet of your skull!” blasted King Idanthrsus with a sneer. “At least General Kagan died with honour. To his brother Dagan goes his estates. But, alas, I need you and a
ll my officers. You are restored to command, but I warn you, Korgan-Tal, I will not tolerate failure, for we are the Royal Scyths and our right to rule is divine, even over the other Scyths with whom we forged this mighty Empire! Remember that it was our fathers Lipoxais, Arpoxais and Colaxais, descendants of Togarmah the Terrible, in the days of their reign that a plough, a yoke, an axe, and a bowl, all made of gold, fell from heaven. The oldest of the brothers, Lipoxais, wished to take them away, but as he drew near the gold began to burn. The second brother, Arpoxais, approached them, but with the like result. The third and youngest, mighty Colaxais, then approached, upon which the fire went out, and he was enabled to carry away the golden gifts. The two eldest then made the youngest king, and henceforth the golden gifts were watched by the king with the greatest care, and annually approached with magnificent sacrifices. I am the true descendent of Colaxais Saka! All who stand here do so only because of him. As for the other tribes in this empire, I was ordained to rule over by Loki! I shall extend my dominion from the Altay to the River of Ister! Then we shall march nigh well south, until even the lands of Sumer and Mizraim are mine to dominate!”
No-one dared to move, fidget or speak as the Scythian tyrant continued his speech. “In the days of the ancestors, the elder brothers, acknowledging the significance of this thing, delivered the whole of the kingly power to the youngest. From Lipoxais, are descended those Scythians who are called the race of the Auchatai; from the middle brother Arpoxais those who are called Catiaroi and Traspians, and from the youngest of them the ‘Royal’ tribe, we who are called Paralatai: we rule by the will of the gods and even now we gather new allies! The dark Wizard Hister helps us with his black magic! The Goblin Reich is at our beck and call, as are the Gnomes of Nograd, the Trolls, the Ogres of Morag and even the Gargoyles! With our human allies the Cimmerians and Sarmatians, we shall conquer all Midgard!”
Visigothic_The Barbarians Of Midgard Page 4
