A great cheer went up in the crowd where all those human and non-human nations mentioned by the Tyrant were represented. “Redeem yourself in the eyes of the Empire, Lord Tal! Gather the hosts and let all Scythia march!”
Korgan-Tal, while hating the King in his heart, knew that the best way to destroy him and take his place on the throne was to appear to be his loyal worshipper. So he shouted to the assembled delegations here in the Palace city of Scythia-Gelonus, “Heil, Idanthrsus! Heil! Heil! Heil!”
The assembly replied in thunderous acclamation, “Zieg Heil! Zieg Heil! Zieg Heil!”
Though there are many Scythians who are nomadic, there was indeed a great ring fortress of Scythia where the Tyrant Idanthrsus had made his Capital. It was said by the Hellene traders that the Scythians were a large and powerful nation and that they all had deep blue eyes and bright red hair. There is a city in their territory, called Scythia-Gelonus, which is surrounded by a lofty wall, thirty furlongs each way, built entirely of wood and earth. All the houses in that place and all the temples are of the same material. Here are temples built in honour of the fire gods Atar and Agni, as well as Loki, whose worship had been introduced among them by Hister of Dakkia, and adorned after the fashion of the Hellenes with images, altars and shrines, all in wood. There is even a festival, held every third year in honour of Bacchus, at which the natives fall into the Bacchic fury. Their Soothsayers did use cannabis to induce a trance and divination by sorcerers was a characteristic of the Scythian belief system.
The dark shadows of the fortress of Kul-Oba always seemed to give one a sense of gloom and foreboding. For this was the Castle of Adawulf Hister, the Dark Wizard and mad Alchemist of Dakkia, which was located high in a great mountain pass in the land of Dakkia. This was far to the west of King Sigurd and his people, yet the evil machinations of Hister touched them nonetheless. Adawulf Hister, dressed in a long black robe with a hood covering a head of long black hair with streaks of grey, his slanted, bushy eyebrows set above a face of wide eyes set deep within sockets shaded dark, and high cheekbones sporting a long thin nose and pointed beard, watched the Scythian King through a basin of magic water which presented the proceedings at Gelonus in all their ugly detail. On the back of the robe was a large set of silver sig runes that resembled two lightning bolts striking downward. On the sleeves of his robe were the wolf trap runes, all in blood red.
A sneer crossed his face. Hister turned to his apprentice, an evil Gnome, son of King Throng of Kakis, named Throostra, saying, “Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen, my young Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” An evil laugh slipped from Hister as he and Throostra, a young man of about twenty, wearing a plain black robe (for as yet he had not earned his runes or amulets), walked away.
“Master, why do you allow that Scythian braggart to think he rules, when it is you?”
“Everything has it’s time, my young apprentice. When I have used his Army and all Midgard bows before my throne, that fool will also learn what true power is, as he grovels at my feet!” Hister’s evil laugh echoed down the halls of Kul-Oba.
Among the servants of Adawulf Hister, there was a race of intelligent, talking Ravens known as the Huggins (Hoogins). These fowl-birds were far larger than your average run-of-the-mill ravens, for they were the size of a Prairie vulture or a buzzard. These creatures had been brought through the flood by Noach, one male called Huginn, and one female called Muninn. It was Huginn which Noach had sent forth from the Ark, never to return, and only later did his mate find him. In the days of Nimrod, the Huggins gave themselves over to the service of Loki, and Hister could gaze into his water basin and see, through their eyes, anywhere in Midgard that he had sent them. They were his spies and a Prince of these Huggins, a particularly fowl and ugly fellow by the name of Argob, Son of King Svart of Hrefnawudu, or Ravenswood. was ever at the side of Hister, being at his beck and call for any fowl purpose.
Hister looked at Argob, who was eating a piece of pig gut for dinner, saying, “Your cousin Vetr has done well in the court of King Idanthrsus.”
Argob replied, “He wishes only to serve you, Master, for he worships Loki and knows, as do I, Skeletaan, Solano and Morgana, that you are the true Prophet, oh dread Lord of Darkness.” Argob was perfect for Hister for he complimented the vanity of this Messiah of evil.
Kul-Oba consisted of a large outer wall of black basalt stones. The whole forbidding structure was laid out over thirteen acres and sat atop a labyrinth of caves washed out of the rocks during the great flood up in Tihuta pass; an unholy place in the high mountains and deep forest of Dakkia. It was shaped like a hexagon and surrounded by a deep mote, over which there was a drawbridge. The one hundred foot high walls had guard towers at every point of intersection of the hexagon that were one hundred and fifty feet tall. The great keep was a fortress in and of itself, also hexagonal, with six towers at each point with steeply pointed roofs two hundred feet tall from ground to roof point. The wall of the great keep was one hundred and fifty feet high with a flat stone roof. The whole foreboding place was garrisoned by an army of Mercenaries, both human and Ogres, from the crags of Mount Morag. There was also a force of Gargoyles stationed there, which could be used as flying messengers, led by King Dragos the Green. Hister also had a Thane Krone Wachen (Crown Guards) consisting of one hundred elite Amazons, fierce female warriors of Scythia, belonging to the Order of the Serpent Maidens.
Below Kul-Oba there was a village where a tribe of humans lived known as the Gutthiuda, who were a Tervingian tribe that had been reduced to the bondage of Serfdom, after their ring fortress and Mead Hall at Helmgard had been conquered by Hister and forced to build his fortress. Their plight had not been forgotten by Sigurd and Osrik; nor had they been forgotten by the Kings of the Thyssagetae and Massagetae or the Issedones. Immediately to the south of the Castle, a foundation had been started for as yet some unknown structure, whose shape and design and ultimate purpose was known only to the Dark Wizard and Mad Alchemist of Dakkia himself. A large elevated causeway extended from a high gate along the south wall which was connected to the construction site with the Castle, which bridged a deep ravine between it and the job site. Anyone assaulting this forbidding complex was going to have to be prepared for a long siege.
King Sigurd led his people north by way of the high steppes west of the Great Sea of Hyrcania. They travelled with all of their belongings in wagons and carts. Most walked and were guarded by the footmen, which were divided up into contingents of Archers, Crossbowmen, Axemen, Pole Axemen, Spearmen, Trident-fighters and Swordsmen. Keeping watch on the forward paths as well as the flanks and rear of the Getic column were the Cavalrymen, with their famous compound bows and yet another platoon was also transporting their huge ballista and Scorpios. Close by the King and Queen was their loyal Thane Krone Wachen force, pledged to live and die in the service of the royal family. The grass was good for the horses and all of the livestock and it was thick, fresh and green, and, as they moved towards Thorstadt, the King was gathering together the many scattered bands of his Getic tribe, which were spread out in smaller villages across the southern steppes south of the Tanais River all the way as far south as Kumanborg near the foothills of the Lofty Mountains.
One day, as they rode along, great thundering came from Thor’s Hammer in the dark black clouds and it began to rain. The Queen and her sister Greta loved the rain, at least when it was warm. The King and his Thanes, as well as Lord Volsung, laughed as his two royal daughters leapt from their saddles and began dancing and singing in the rain, an old Tervingian melody. The drops were warm and pleasant and the water filled their thick red-raven hair, running down over their noses.
“Dance with me, my Hunter,” laughed Queen Gwynnalyn to her husband. The King jumped from his horse and there danced with his dearly beloved, the mate of his soul.
Chapter IV
The Mammoth Rider
From the Skald’s Tale:
Over with the huntsmen did he come, young Sigmund the Brave, for
to blow his horn, on this his first hunt of the day. Onward sure and proud, the Son of Volsung did prance his mighty steed. Though but twelve years of age, yet on this day would he show to all that, a man was he, same as the rest. Raising his horn to announce charge against Shaggy-haired beasts, on he did ride; fearing no fate which might befall him – so brave was he, our Sigmund lad! But unto him did the great bull give challenge! For the beast knew that Sigmund was indeed a warrior true. With bellows and charge, the Shaggy-haired elephant charged our Sigmund lad, paying scorn to such so tiny as to dare him challenge! But alas this huntsmen day, did Sigmund leap as if a young gazelle! He leaped from the back of said mighty steed and into the tree went he! The said mighty steed was killed that day, and he soared into Valhalla to the halls of the honoured dead, there to await his Sigmund friend, coming to him some fateful day. But not this day! Sigmund leaped down onto the back of said shaggy-haired beast, and rode him as a burdensome beast! Great was bellows and rage from hairy great beast, until alas Great Sigmund took flight in the air, landing upon earth so hard and bare! His Father, Great Lord Volsung, then didst impale the Shaggy one, while brother Gedron and Sister Great Queen did bring Warrior Sigmund safely away. Though now thy wounds be most grievous, our Sigmund, let not your heart be troubled. For you are rising again as does the sun in the east, and long shall be your days, before Valhalla calls, some distant day.
T he scout rode in with a report for Lord Gedron. “Achtung! Achtung!” (Attention attention).
“Speak, Horsa,” stated Lord Gedron.
“We have good news, my Lord. We came across a trail of woolly mammoths. Should we kill but one there will be meat for all. We have been gathering up a lot more people since leaving Wodenburg.”
The men were happy and Lord Gedron smiled. He spoke to the King and said, “Good news, Sire. Will you now stop dancing long enough to hear it?”
King Sigurd twirled around with the Queen in his arms and then sat her on the ground. Their eyes met with fire in them and their gaze locked for a brief second, but yet for them it seemed time had stood still.
She spoke softly to her husband where no-one but he could hear, saying, “Very good, my Hunter. You are mine!”
The King took a deep breath and kissed her and then, turning to his brother-in-law and Chief of Staff, said, “Yes, Lord Gedron. Let us hear the news”
“Sire, there is before us a herd of the woolly elephants. Shall we organise the hunt?”
“Yes, Lord Gedron, do so at once. We can kill one or two at the most for all of our people to share in the meat. But beware lest a herd of Raptor Dragons come upon us and try and steal the meat; for they too hunt the woolly beast. Also be sure to maintain the patrols. Not all can share the joy of the huntsmen lest the Slaughter-Wolves return and make us their prey. Go quickly.”
Though soaking wet, the King and Queen, as well as young Prince Sigmund, were soon on their horses and ready for the hunt.
“Horsa, faithful Scout, lead us to the Woolly Elephants,” commanded the Queen. She was always a part of these hunts and was very much the warrior and huntswoman. She was a mighty Shield Maiden.
This group and the Thanes followed Scout Horsa across several ridges of rolling hills and into a wooded river valley. Here they picked up the heavy tracks of the mammoth herd and saw great piles of their dung swarming with flies. The Queen turned her nose and made a face of disgust at the dung and Siggy said, “Yuck!”
Riding a little farther, they spotted a small herd of massive shaggy-haired beasts. Taking one or two was not going to be easy.
“There they are, Sire, feeding in the forest,” said Scout Horsa, as he pointed to the east.
The rain had stopped now and the sun broke through the clouds. “Aye, we must be careful not to stampede the herd back into our people,” stated Lord Volsung.
“It would not be a pretty sight to have escaped from Korgan-Tal, only to have our families trampled to death under such mighty feet, or torn asunder by their tusks,” declared Lord Siggier.
The King made the choice in short order. “The Ballista is the only weapon for this kill. Horsa, go forth around these ten beasts and find suitable location to set it up. Make sure it is a place safe from stampede. The rest of the huntsmen will sound sudden blasts from the rams’ horns and spook the shaggy-haired beasts towards you. Then you and your men, Lord Volsung, with the bow will kill two beasts with our lance-arrows. Just as we have always done.” The King turned to Sigmund, saying, “Mark this day well, warrior. May your first Mammoth hunt be a day for you of honour and of victory.”
The boy’s long, dark, red-raven hair, still wet from the rain, was stuck to the sides of his neck and cheekbones. He raised himself tall in the saddle astride his young roan stallion. He nodded to the King and his father Volsung looked at his young son with pride, saying, “Ride with the horn-blowers, Sigmund. Your father is proud of you.”
Father and son leaned toward each other from their horses and the great warrior, Lord Volsung, hugged his beloved son. The Queen said not a word, but she smiled and a tear fell from her left eye. Her little brother was beloved to her heart. He was her Siggy.
Not long after the great hunting and battle bow ballista was assembled, Scout Horsa returned to the Getic camp. “Lord Siggier, we have found a suitable place atop some rocks east of where the herd feeds in the trees. But it will take work to lift this great bow atop them. It is the only safe place.”
“Yes, Horsa, and if we miss, the herd bull will attack and trample all of us,” replied Lord Siggier.
“Yea, I hope they turn not back upon the horn-blowers. It would be a dark day if Prince Sigmund were killed. Lord Volsung would be grieved, even unto death,” replied Horsa.
“As would the Queen,” stated Siggier.
This kind of weapon was called a Ballista and measured nine feet long and fired great arrows known as bolts, the tips of which were giant iron spearheads. Ballistae were made of wood, and held together with iron plates around the frames and iron nails in the stand. The main stand had a slider on the top, into which were loaded the bolts or stone shot. Attached to this, at the back, was a pair of Winches and a ‘Claw’, used to ratchet the bowstring back to the armed firing position. This ballista was a siege weapon obtained in Assyria and was much better than the ones they had made themselves. All components that were not made of wood were transported in the Getic baggage train. It would be assembled with local wood, if necessary. Some were positioned inside large, armoured, mobile siege towers or even on the edge of a battlefield. Ballistae could be easily modified to shoot both spherical and shaft projectiles, allowing their crews to adapt easily to prevailing battlefield situations in real time. As the role of battlefield artillery became more sophisticated, a universal (which was invented just for this function) was integrated into the ballista’s stand, allowing the operators to alter the trajectory and firing direction of the ballista as required without a lengthy disassembly of the machine. This indeed was much better than their older Scorpios had been, and the King intended this weapon, not just to hunt the shaggy-haired elephants, but the Scythian Slaughter-Wolves as well, and maybe a few Ogres along with them.
All was set into place. The great bow was heavy and required much handling. Mounting it inside of a cart for maneuverability in battle was already in the mind of the King, but in this case, it had to be placed atop the rocks. This way it was safe. The Getic could ill afford to have the ballista trampled to splinters by the mammoth herd bull!
Upon a wave from the Queen, young Sigmund sounded his horn! Soon, twenty horns sounded a short distance from behind the herd! These animals were huge! Many were thirteen feet tall and weighing as much as twelve tons. In the face of one of these, a man was nothing but a rodent! The Getic horsemen charged while the horns were blowing! Young Sigmund steered his horse forward with his knees, holding the horn to his lips in his right hand and the reins in the left! The Mammoth herd suddenly looked up from their meal of leaves! They saw the dust coming towards
them and the men on horses! Their ears pricked up and their eyes widened! The great herd bull let out a bellow and thrashed his head from side to side! The younger bulls and the cows panicked and ran downstream towards where Siggier and Horsa had the ballista set up! The King and Queen rode side by side, sounding war cries most shrill! Their Thanes were hard put to keep up with them!
Downstream at the ballista, Lord Siggier and the weapon crew saw the dust and heard the bellowing of the great tusked giants! “Remember, warriors, what the Queen said. Do not shoot a calf or she shall taker her dagger and make of us Eunuchs! Shoot only the young bulls if possible and no nursing mothers!”
Siggy sounded three short blasts on his horn, which was the signal for the horsemen to pull up. The King didn’t want to get too close to the herd lest the lead bull turn on them and attack. But alas it did not work! From out of the dust they heard an angry bellow and saw the lead bull charging after them in a rage! He was protecting the rest of his herd, which by now passed within range of the ballista!
Seeing a young bull, Siggier said, “Take that one and fire at will!”
A great bolt was let loose from the ballista and impaled a large young bull through the neck! It took time to crank back the winch and reload it, and while doing so, the mighty herd of twenty woolly beasts were now almost past them. However, they managed another shot and brought down a second young bull!
Meanwhile, the herd bull was on the attack! “Scatter and break for the hilltops, men!” shouted the King!
The entire group of huntsmen made a hasty retreat and split up into small groups to give the raging bull, still bellowing in anger, too many targets. They made for the north and away from the camp, not wanting to lead the bull back home.
Sigmund rode as hard as he could, for he had to try and make it to safety! He heard a loud bellows right behind him! The wind had dried out his long locks of raven-red hair which now blew in the wind behind him! Sigmund turned and, to his horror, the raging bull was right behind him! He had to ride and ride hard! No time to try and shoot any arrows! He screamed in terror as the raging bull came up behind him!
Visigothic_The Barbarians Of Midgard Page 5
