Raven's Wyrd: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 2)

by Alaric Longward

  An owl hooted. A raven croaked.

  Lif cried.

  I turned to look at a copse of wood, right next to me. It was thick and full of shadows, and one shadow moved. It was a large dog, barking in anger, running for me like the slavering beast it was, fangs bared, and it jumped on me so quickly, I barely got my spear up. The blade sunk to its belly; however, it flew over me, the claws drawing blood off my arms, the teeth clamping to my shoulder, and I strangled it as we rolled on the ground. I climbed over it; regarding its bloodshot eyes, and rammed my helmet on its head, so many times it lay still. I saw Hands walk from the woods. He was huge, and held a battle-axe with two hands. He regarded me, and eyed the thicket where Lif was crying, and I could not see her. He grunted in anger, as he stepped closer, and I tried to get up as he kicked me over. He was ugly and greasy, but also more resigned than angry. 'Why cannot you just let go? Had you let go of her when she was born, she would be safe. We would not be here, hunted.'

  I breathed hard, and felt tears well in my eyes. 'I made a man of myself when my father would not. I killed Vago, the man who held the dagger that slit my mother's throat. I promised I would get my fame back. I promised vengeance for my family. I promised many things.'

  'It is man's lot to give such promises, boy,' he told me. 'World is full of graves for men who could not keep theirs.'

  'I have given up,' I hissed, 'on my fame. I have kept to my honor. But, I cannot let go of her. I could even forgo the vengeance. But, not her. I am a father!'

  'Veleda wants her. I will take her to her. That Armin caught me was bad enough. Veleda told me not to hurt you, but I have no choice. Without a leg, perhaps you won't be so eager to run after us when we go east.' He looked brutal, as he eyeballed my legs. 'Without both, you won't ride either.'

  'I will crawl, if I must,' I hissed, but it was then when Hands yelped, for a huge shadow jumped on him and grabbed his face, pulled him up to the air and threw him unceremoniously. The indomitable bounty hunter flew far in the air, landed hard, the Chatti ending up in a pained heap, his ear missing. Leuthard stood over me, as I scrambled backwards, and opened his hand. The ear fell to the ground. His scarred, rock-like hand was slick with blood.

  'So, Hraban,' he said murderously. He had his sword on his belt, covered in gore. He had an arrow in his side, another in his chest, and he was wheezing, for there was a wound in his abdomen, oozing thick blood. He kicked a head he had dropped, and it rolled over the ear. It was what remained of Bricius, a terrible leer on his thin lips, which bespoke of a painful death.

  I smiled at him. 'Thank you. I would have had to remove it myself later on. Fulcher greatly desired it.'

  'Think nothing of it,' he answered with a growl. 'Lok's balls, but you have been a harsh one to kill.' He snickered, as he leered in the direction of crying Lif. 'Just what I need. Some substance before I go find Armin.'

  'Ah, he got away then?' I said, disappointed, swallowing my fear at his words. 'I find it hard to understand they could not kill you.'

  'Takes more than a band of mercenaries to slay me, Hraban,' he snickered. 'Armin ran with one or two of his men. They killed and died well. That girl ran as well, she actually fought with them! A woman, imagine.'

  'I know a woman like that as well,' I told him, as I stood up. 'You will not have Lif.'

  'A clever thing with the Roman gold,' he grunted as he spat blood. 'That was a fortune. Drusus must like you more than your father does. Gods, he resents the seed that made your mother pregnant. I will eat her while you watch, bleeding and crippled.' He looked huge and menacing, his face as dark as a wolf's, a feral look in his eyes. 'I will, and Lok will laugh, even if he will not be freed by Odo. Let it be my pleasure. He is a chaotic god, he is. He has time. There will be other Ravens and Bears to start the game anew, and Ragnarök may wait.'

  'I agree, but I will stave it off my own way. I'll piss on your face, Leuthard.' I uttered brave words, I did, but did not feel brave. I was hurt and tired, and had only Nightbright with no shield, and no sign of my long sword.

  He saw my face, and grabbed something from the brush and gave it to me, hilt first. 'The Head Taker. Your father sent it to Burlein to convince the fool he was dead. He never loved the blade, you see. He was afraid of it, hated it for reminding him of his crime, how he left Hulderic die. He wounded you with it, but it betrayed him then. He blamed the sword for not being able to split your skull.'

  'Maybe he had a terrible bout of disgustingly soft fatherly feelings and could not finish it?' I grinned, as I pulled the blade off his grip. 'Perhaps he also is a father deep inside. A father I will slay. I will not hesitate.'

  He laughed. 'I once wanted to kill mine. After he exiled me for my … appetites. I could not. We won't see if you are like me.'

  With that, he roared and jumped forward, pulling his blade back with a smooth motion, the weapon swinging in the air eerily. It cut down hard, so hard I could barely move away. I did not, jumping forward, and ramming the hilt of the Head Taker to his face, making him grin maniacally as he raked his hand across my helmet savagely, throwing me several feet into the air. I scrambled back as he loped for me, more animal than man, ramming the blade between my legs, missing but barely. I slashed the blade at his mass, nearly screaming from fear, as his eyes glowed yellow, the blacks tiny, remorseless dots in the middle.

  I did believe in spirits and gods, my lord, though I did not trust the vitka or the völva, thinking them charlatans. I had heard a goddess speak with the mouth of the dying, I had, but that night I knew this man was not a man, but a creature man rarely saw and survived, Hati's spawn. He danced around me, crouching, terribly strong. I scrambled up, running away from him, turning and swinging in terror as the beast dodged away, then pouncing on me.

  I fell over the dog's carcass, and he was on me in an eye blink. He ripped my helmet off, and threw it to the grass. He bared his teeth over me, a sight to make man piss his pants, and I lost my sword, as I grasped his throat. He grabbed me by my face and slammed me down, and even Woden's dance could not beat his Lok-given rage as I saw dark. I groped around with my left hand, hoping to find Nightbright, but instead my hand fell on the shattered spear stump, oily with the blood of the dog, embedded in its flesh.

  Balderich's words rang through my head, his lament the Wolf Slayer had never tasted a wolf's blood. I yanked and pulled at the stub, as Leuthard ripped into my chest with his rock-like hand, his scarred fingers under the chain mail, penetrating skin and muscle and Ermendrud's fate flashed in my mind as the spear point came free. I shrieked in pain and anger as I stabbed up and to his head, and felt his terrible grip go lax. He shuddered and fell over me, as if he had never lived. I pulled and pushed, trying to scramble out from under him, wondering at his dead corpse, the spear point deep in his skull. I reached for the Head Taker, and stepped unsteadily next to him, raised the blade. I swung it as hard as I could, decapitating him with a dull thud.

  I was swooning in pain as I stood there, when I realized Lif was no longer crying. I turned to look at Hands, but he was not there, only a trail of blood. I took some staggering steps forward, but could not move.

  From the thickets, a group of horses rode up like silent ghosts.

  I stiffened and felt bottomless fear as Odo's thin face regarded me from under his red, greasy hair, his face a thing of pain and madness, pinched and ugly. With him rode Gernot and Ansigar, the latter glowering at me. I took a deep breath, grabbed my helmet, and pulled it on, grunting with pain. I swooned as Odo's men surrounded me, over a hundred of them. He regarded me calmly, as he nodded at Leuthard. 'I tried to reason with that one, you know, Hraban. I knew what he was, what his blood carried. He betrayed our one true master for your father. Only because he loved chaos. Now, he is gone, but he left others behind him. Yet, he played his part in this play.'

  'I'm happy to slay them, too,' I said with little conviction, as I grasped Nightbright, dropping Head Taker. It was lighter, and I was exhausted. 'But, I suppose I won't get a chance.'
/>
  Odo smiled at me. 'The prophecy is a game for the gods, Hraban. We know the lines, but the lines can mean many things. And you had the scroll.'

  'Had?' I asked. I had forgotten the scroll.

  'Ishild brought it with her. She tried to save you, you see. She thought I would reward her for the full verses. So, I spared you.'

  'You wanted my hands and my cock, if I recall right,' I spat.

  'Oh, I was mad at you,' he smirked. 'When you made Ishild pregnant. She is not here, no, I sent her to Gulldrum. To the lands of the Two Rivers, where the Cherusci dwell. Our home. I was raging when you had her and made her pregnant, and I did wish to flay you. I wanted to blind you and torment you with promises of relief and then betrayal, Hraban, in your darkness. But, in the chaos our gods so love, there is twisted order, and I knew my hate was part of the game as well. It all led us here, did it not, Hraban? And the scroll clearly said it is enough she will spawn two children. I shall take yours. Now we are here.'

  'You have not found Lif, nor Veleda. I did not take you to her,' I told him with spit.

  He chuckled. 'As I said, the lines are murky. The final road will begin when you are to bleed on an evil, rocky skin, Hraban. That is when the final events will roll forward, the last road, make no mistake of it. You bled on the Lok's creature, Hraban, the man with rock-like scars in his hands.' He eyed Leuthard, and I saw my blood in his terrible hand, drying in rocky, evil skin. 'It is that simple. It is no coincidence. It cannot be.'

  'But, Veleda is not found,' I insisted.

  He smiled. 'I know, Hraban. But, the lines do not say it is the youngest sister you will have to find, just a sister. You bled on the skin, and now you found the trail to my boy's sister, Lif. And Lif is being taken to Veleda. Oh, there are other lines in there, a bear must be slain, a raven to find the way, so no doubt you will have a part to play yet. But, for now, all things are going as they should. We will take after her. We are on the road. Do you remember when my mother asked you to go far, far away? You should have. Everything you have done, everything I have done, it all led to this point.'

  'You are a mad dog, Odo. You look like a frazzled badger, and seek the death of children. You will find yours instead,' I said angrily, my mind whirling. I was to find Lif? Not Veleda? It is possible. The prophetic lines, I cursed them.

  'Yes, I will die when the world ends, Hraban. Only our children will survive,' he agreed. He shook the red hanks of his filthy hair and smiled. 'That bounty hunter is taking us where we must go, and I shall follow him. And as there are still mysterious lines in the scroll, I shall leave you alive, boy. I shall go, and you will follow, no doubt, and it all goes according to Lok's wishes.'

  I growled in hate, and tried to run forward. Ansigar whipped his horse and kicked me down. He hovered above me, waiting for a command, as the hundred men gathered around us. 'Let me …'

  'Silence,' Odo said softly, and Ansigar leered down. He spat on me, quivering in anger, but stayed quiet. Gernot was oddly silent as well, as I looked at him. Odo gazed at my brother. 'Oh, he rues he ever listened to me, your brother does, Hraban. But, I keep him, for only gods know what part he might have to play in this drama. As for you, I thank you.'

  'Thank me?' I asked. 'Why you Hel spawned piece of skin?'

  'You should not speak of my mother like that. I understood you became friends, after all,' he chided me. 'The one thing I will need is that ring. When we have walked this story to the end, I will open Veleda's chest, and sprinkle her heart's blood on the Woden's ringlet.'

  I said nothing.

  He nodded, and Ansigar jumped down with many men, who struggled and put me on the ground. He grabbed my hand, tore Draupnir's Spawn from my finger, and threw it up to Odo. He grabbed it from the air, and pondered my fate. Finally, he shrugged. 'We have a way to go yet, Hraban, so go and run. We will see you again. I think next year we shall finish this.'

  'Let me take his leg, like Hands wanted to,' Ansigar begged. Woden help me, but they could have taken Lif any time they wanted. They would follow Hands to Veleda. I begged Hands was clever enough to avoid them.

  'No,' Odo said calmly, and pointed a finger my way. 'But, your brother can take his hand, it is only fair, no? Gernot, do you want it? One of my few rewards to you.'

  Gernot gazed at me, his weak beard twitching with indecision. He rubbed his stump with a glazed look on his face, and Ansigar was gesturing for him. Gernot's face turned into a deep brood, and I knew I would suffer as Ansigar grinned. 'No,' Gernot said. I turned my face to him in surprise, and he looked away. 'No. Let him keep the hand. He will need it before long against Father. And you.'

  Odo cackled at his tone and simmering rebellion, and shrugged and pointed at Ansigar, who stepped away, trembling with anger. My former friend mounted his horse reluctantly, and looked away, cursing me softly. Odo rode past me, his men riding with him. 'Thank you for your golden ring, and for Veleda, Hraban. Lok's will be done, this year, or next. We shall meet again.'

  I lay there, laughing.

  Odo gazed at me curiously, as he rode to the east in trail of Lif, but I laughed. He would take Veleda, he would end our world, and he would marry Lif to his son so they would survive Ragnarök. But, in order for this to come to pass, he would have to slay Veleda, and pour her poor heart's blood on the ringlet of Woden. I laughed, for he had called the prophecy a game of the gods, the lines of the prophecy confusing and hazy. It was surely so, for I remembered Bero's words, or rather the words of the being who had spoken. Sigyn.

  'Woden's ringlet is not golden,' I whispered.

  Draupnir's Spawn was useless, unless the god or goddess, whoever it was, had lied. It was not golden, and Draupnir's Spawn was. What Woden's ringlet was, was a mystery to me. Mystery to Odo. But, we would find out. He had spared me. I would indeed ride after them, and Drusus would take me to the land of the Cherusci, where Hands was headed. To the east.

  I got back to the Roman army in the morning. I fell from the saddle in front of Drusus, with Fulcher fuzzing over me. I handed him the head of Bricius.

  CAMULODUNUM, ALBION (A.D. 42)

  I had made myself a man by slaying Vago the Vangione, given oaths to regain what was mine.

  I was a fool, Thumelicus, my lord. Fulcher was right.

  In the end, I was left a stranger amidst foreigners, Roman rather than a Germani, reviled, rather than cherished; an enemy to my former friends. I had fought my father, and foiled his plans, and I was patient. I would meet him again soon enough. I had built my fort, and that fort was built around Drusus. By guarding Drusus, my lord, I knew I would have a vengeance on my father. Their wyrd was to meet, and my spear would be in that dance. I had not found Wandal. I had not looked for him. But, by being Roman, my chances were better than by being a Marcomanni. As Roman, I would ride to foil the mad Odo, once and forever.

  I should have heeded Hand's words, and taken Lif away, immediately when she was born. Given her away, even. I should have abandoned the Marcomanni. I did not. I was a father, and I was a lord and that was wyrd. Fate. Unchangeable.

  I also should have heeded Fulcher's words over Ansbor. His love for Cassia drove him mad, and in his madness, he betrayed me. He was lost to me, in so many ways, and I should have spoken to him. Even sent him away. I did not. Wyrd.

  Also, Lif was in danger, but I had time. Odo did not know everything.

  I was a man of honor. And I loved a good woman.

  So, lord, while the druid struggles to heal you, I shall tell you more. I will tell you how Hraban the Roman fought to guard his lord and friend Drusus, the highest of the Romans. I will tell you how I met Maroboodus again, and I will tell you what happened with the prophecy of Lok and my daughter. It will be the year of Veleda, my lord, and also the year I found Wandal, the last of the Bear Heads. And I will tell you more of Armin, your father, for our story was far from finished.

  I will do all this, Thumelicus, or Hadewig, so you will find my daughter, Lif, an old woman by now, and tell her of me, her father. It is
perilous here in Camulodunum, my lord, and I will strive to keep you safe while I write.

  Wyrd, if I manage it, wyrd, if I do not. You will find out soon enough.

  - The story continues in The Winter Sword -

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  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  As a fiction writer, I took the liberty to change the facts a wee bit. How much I changed them is a mystery, for there is really little information on what really happened between various Germanic tribes and the Romans at this time. Much is lost, which is something of a relief for a historical fiction writer.

  In the upcoming books of the series, we will see quite many of the hard issues old Augustus is facing, as he is trying to change Rome. What Julius Caesar tried to do with a battle-axe to his demise, his stepson Octavianus did subtly. He was the first man of Rome, Augustus, he shared power with the Senate, though he made sure he controlled the provinces with armies. His powers evolved slowly and patiently over the years, until the old man was powerful as an emperor of later ages, and began to worry about the world he had created. He wanted a relative of his to take over. While Rome was not so fussy about bloodlines, adaptation being a perfectly acceptable way of continuing one's family, Augustus did want his own blood to continue his story. He had only one daughter, Julia, and so Julia changed husbands regularly. Julia did have children with Agrippa, Augustus's best general and childhood friend, but the Republic was still out there in the minds of certain people, and also those who wanted what Augustus built, but not his blood.