I looked around wildly, suddenly tired to the bone. One rider was lying very still under his felled horse, not far from me. Father was riding around casually, his horse trampling the corpses. He was followed by a huge man with cropped beard, and a lithe, small man who carried himself with snake-like grace. Their eyes were fixed on the enemy ships, where torches flared, and the now careful leader of the enemy stood, staring at us from under his dog-snouted helmet.
Euric howled in anger, pointing at the ship. They had not boarded alone. They had many of our women with them.
Vago grabbed one of the women, and pushed her brutally forward. 'Dogs! You! Rider scum! Who is your leader? You are Maroboodus's fugitives, are you not? Show yourself!' Vago turned and cursed the hapless men who got in his way. He tore off his helmet and threw it at a sailor, who nearly dropped it into the cold river, but Vago was beyond caring. His scarred face twisted with anger and loss. 'Show yourself, or the women die! I shall have them raped while you watch, and then I shall sacrifice them to Hercules, so I swear! Show yourself!'
He pulled the woman he had grabbed before him.
I felt the ground shake under me. It was my mother in Vago's gauntleted hands.
The riders had concentrated in the middle of the bloody field, and their horses were sweaty and silent, reflecting the mood of the riders. The survivors of our butchered village stared at the ships in anger. Ever so slowly, my father rode forward, his horse picking its way amongst the fallen ones, many of whom were still alive. With him went the agile rider. The man held a crosswise on his lap, one of the standards of the two butchered centuries.
Father stopped at the bank of the river. He stared stoically at his wife for a long moment, and then opened a chinstrap, slowly tipping his head forward to slide the heavy bronze helmet off his head. He had a strong, wide warrior's face, one you would follow willingly to the realm of the dead. His nose was broad and broken, his eyes shadowed by bushy eyebrows. It was a face of the king, framed in reddish hair, very like Hulderic in nobility.
'I am Maroboodus, the lord who taught your men a lesson in war. They fought bravely, and yet their leader retreats and hides among the women.' He rumbled in a reverberating, deep voice full of mocking scorn.
Vago looked furious, for he was no coward. Yet he had indeed retreated like a lonely wolf before a raging bear. It seemed he much regretted the rash decision of re-boarding the ship. He glanced at the woman in fury.
She shook her head, bone-white, and scared.
Maroboodus saw the exchange. 'Not only do you fight women, but obey them. So what do you want? You wish to fight children next? They might be a good match for your spineless pigs, no? Come here, man to man? Fight me, Lord. Fight me, or are you afraid?'
Vago spat and barked a laugh. 'Fight you? You are a coward, a murderer, and a damned traitor to Rome. Would you keep any of your simpering oaths, you faithless dog? I would die to your honorless men, and you would bury me in pig shit. No, I think not. What I want is your head, fugitive, but there are many ways to remove the foul thing. I will have it later. For now, I think we can trade. This one looks proud, but not so proud after my boys have her, no?'
Vago gripped at my mother's arm. She flinched in pain while staring resolutely at her husband.
There was silence, save for the slow splashing of the oars as the rovers tried to hold the galleys in place.
Maroboodus stared at Mother. I could see the struggle in his movements, the lure of throwing caution to the wind and taking the spear to Vago, but it would be impossible to survive.
'What is it that I could possibly offer? Advice on how to fight wars? How to make love to women? What do you want?' Maroboodus asked with a scornful voice.
Vago trembled at my father’s coaxing. The darkly dressed woman walked quickly forward, and put a steadying hand on his glittering, armored shoulder. She gave a baleful glance at Maroboodus, who just stared back, tight-faced.
'I will sell the women.' Vago gestured at the throng of hostages. 'For the standards. I want those back. Now.'
Maroboodus was not happy with the offer, but dared not show too much interest in the woman standing on the deck in Vago's dreaded hands.
He glanced at the bleeding, hopeful men and weeping children, and nodded heavily. 'Take the piss-sodden standard. I have captured much better ones, and there was no honor in taking these. Nevertheless, your Roman masters will know you lost here. Bringing them back won't make them lose count of the men and gear, nor believe fantastic lies.'
Vago's eyes glittered, and he nodded at the ship's captain, who growled something back, shaking his head. The dark woman hissed at him. The captain gave in, nodding at the burly headman of the rovers, who shouted at the men. The galley lurched forward, ever so slowly.
Vangiones started to push the frightened women forward, and one by one, they were lowered or pushed into the water.
One of Vago's bodyguards, a burly man with very long mustaches, climbed down with the scrambling women and half climbed on the bank, holding his shaking hand out. Maroboodus stared at him in disdain, but nodded at the lithe man holding the hacked and bloody standard.
'Do not mind the blood, old man! It could not be helped!' Maroboodus shouted at the Vangione leader.
The burly man took the standard, and waded his way back to the galley side, handing the pole over before being pulled up.
Our women clambered ashore, soaked and weeping. The few surviving menfolk helped them. Children ran desperately to their mothers, clinging to their skirts. Only my mother remained on the ship, sneaking glances at my father.
Vago inspected the standard. 'There is one missing!' Vago said again, cursing bitterly.
'It is somewhere in the field, fool, or the cowardly bearer ran away with it, I know not,' my father spat.
There was an uncomfortable silence as the men stared at each other. Finally, Maroboodus spoke, his tone bored. 'And her? Do you have a price? I will not kiss your shit-smeared ass, no matter how much you would like it.'
Vago smiled, slowly running his hand through his gray hair. 'My sons led the two centuries that you wiped out. I have one other, but they were my oldest. And you killed them.'
Maroboodus's horse moved nervously under the sudden pressure as my father hugged its flanks fiercely with his thighs. 'I know not if they are dead.'
Vago ignored him. 'They were good boys, and now they are lost. The price for their death is her.'
My father moved forward. 'I said, I do not know if they are dead.'
Vago licked his lips, scanning the sea of moaning men. 'They are gone. They lost. However, if you crawl to the water, your hands held up in submission, I will trade her for you. She is a noble lady, is she not?' He caressed my mother's neck with a finger. All eyes turned to Father, but he made no move. They stared at each other, Vago sweating, Maroboodus glowering at him.
My mother closed her eyes, and I could not tell what she was think.
'Your sword then? I will trade her for your sword.' Vago said, with a malicious voice.
My father did not move. Vago was playing with him.
Vago laughed. 'So you will not help her. You are a hard man, Lord Maroboodus.'
'And if I did, would you keep your word? I am no harder than you, who will not find out if his sons live,' Maroboodus spat at him.
The woman whispered to Vago, who listened intently.
Vago nodded. 'I tell you what. You give your son to me, and I will let her go.'
Maroboodus looked back at us. 'Which one?'
Vago looked at the woman who whispered something to his ear. 'Both. I want them both.'
My father hesitated, his eyes darting around. He said nothing, clearly indecisive.
I was about to step forward, but Father took the decision away from me.
Maroboodus shook his head. 'No. I cannot do that. You make no deal I trust. Let her go, and I will pay you for her. I have coin.'
Vago's eye twitched, and he licked his lips. 'Coin? Hah! At least I know where t
hey are now, Maroboodus, your children. With my boys gone, I will come for you and them. The gods will reward me, if not today, then soon. Shayla, my daughter, bless this bitch's blood.'
There were tears in Vago's eyes as he took his helmet from the sailor and put it on.
'Hold,' Maroboodus yelled, but Vago did not listen.
The woman, Shayla, was the druid Koun and Tear had talked about, the one who held knowledge of the prophecy. She was young, strangely sad, and hauntingly beautiful, and did not look dangerous. Yet Tear had said this woman wanted me, and in that, Tear had been right.
She hissed at Vago, who shook his head. 'Later, daughter. Today, I want sweet blood.'
Vago pushed Mother over the ship's side, holding her by the hair.
Maroboodus was gritting his teeth in sudden desperation, and was about to say something, but Vago cut him off with a harsh laugh. He grabbed a blue-tinted knife from the woman's belt, twisted my mother's head back and cut her throat with a quick, fluid motion. Thick blood spurted from a ragged wound before anyone could say anything.
Vago twisted Mother's form over the side of the ship, and let the abundant fluid flow to the river. He grinned as he noticed her silver deer fibula. He tore it off with his other hand, and laughed with a harsh bark as he placed it in his wide belt.
Shayla was chanting in Celtic, praying reverently to the river goddess Abnoba. Her eyes were as shocked as my mother's. Vago picked Sigilind up, her blood spurting over his armor and heaved her to the river shallows like a useless sack of meat.
I could not fathom what had happened.
I remember staring at the corpse of my twitching mother, and remembered Marcus whispering urgently in my ear, but what he said, I know not. Shayla's gaze fixed on me as if she knew who I was. She staggered, her lips thin. I spat in her direction.
Father reacted differently—Maroboodus roared.
He roared like a giant bear of the high mountains, raging like a most savage, injured animal. His roars echoed in the deep valleys and thick forests while all others were silent. It was a sound that men sang about, later. I listened to the scream and the mighty roar, and the words of the prophecy came to my suffering mind, and I wondered if Hulderic had been right after all.
After he had screamed and raged, several men had to run to restrain him, holding his flailing arms and muscular waist. Maroboodus had dismounted in rage, trying to reach my dying mother.
Vago stared at Father's impotent rage. 'She was your wife. How fit. Cold man you are, Maroboodus. Hercules and Shayla's gods have smiled on us after all. Know this, Maroboodus, you are a hunted man. You cannot hide. What happened to her is like a swat from a feather compared to what will happen when Augustus gets ahold of you, traitor. My boys died, your wife died. You bring nothing but death and despair in your wake. You risk the whole Midgard. I will raise new men, and eventually, no Suebi filth will live along this river. I will haunt you forever, and I will take your boys, too, for none of your breed must live on. I know what you are; Shayla has told me. Your deaths will buy great favor from the gods, cur!'
He turned away and gestured to the captain, who rowed him swiftly back to the other bank. Vago and his men mounted their horses, and the remaining troops formed up. In the distance, we could hear men herding cows and prisoners, the prizes for the Vangiones.
I ran forward as he started to depart, the spell of doom broken. I had stood there, my face blank, looking at the dead and the dying, but now I found my voice. 'I shall carve you, Vago, with that very blade, one day! I swear! And your witch!'
The druidess turned on me, her face strange and expressionless, as if she had sight. She blanched, fingering her dagger uncertainly. Vago ignored me. He flashed his red-tinted sword at my father, who was now staring at his new enemy, and paid no heed when Wandal's father Euric dragged Sigilind up from the shallows, leaving her resting on the muddy bank.
When Vago had disappeared into the darkness, Maroboodus put his heavy helmet back on to hide his grief, and went to his knees next to my mother's cold body. He spoke softly. Mother was dying quickly, feebly twitching in Father's gauntleted arms. I felt unsurpassed grief, deep loss, and seething anger. The loss was so keen I felt I was floating, and I did not feel the passage of time. It could have taken an hour, or but a minute, as we all stared at her lifeless body.
It was as if I was no longer at the Marmot's Ford but had gotten lost in some strange world where all the faces seemed uncannily unfamiliar and unbelievable things could happen, things one could wake up from. But it was not so. It was real. The many dead, the horrid, flame-scorched carnage. Vago. Vago would pay, I swore to myself, and spat at foul fate.
The world had changed. I had lost my mother and grandfather, and gained a father.
The Three Spinners were busy.
Father was on his knees for the longest time. Finally, he turned to Adalwulf, who stood with a grief-stricken, anxious face next to him.
'Lord, your father. He is asking for you,' Adalwulf said.
I saw Adalwulf staring at my mother, and knew he was suffering as well. He had admired her. Then I realized what Adalwulf had said. Hulderic was still alive? Maroboodus stood up and looked at my mother, shaking his head for the finality of all that had passed.
Maroboodus slumped and clapped Adalwulf on the shoulder, leaning on it. He moved with him towards the terrible center of the battle, where Hulderic had fallen amidst his victims. I trailed behind him, not sure how to proceed. I saw Wandal looking at me, sorrow for my losses in his eyes. Tudrus the Younger was being taken care of by our women. The Quadi women who got away this night were on the dangerous side of the river, and there was dreadful worry in the eyes of their surviving men. I also saw listless Ansbor stalking the field, stopping all people, asking about his lost father. Our men were finishing off the enemy wounded, and cries of desperate fear rang out in the once familiar riverbank.
I trailed my father to where Hulderic was laid next to Harmod the Old. It was clear he, too, was dying. He had lost a lot of blood, so much blood his body was dark from it, his armor caked with it. The blade had ripped a deep hole in his throat. His helmet was next to him, the twin dragon symbols of Woden woven intricately in its silver surface.
My father kneeled next to my grandfather. He glanced briefly at the galleys that had started to row back down the river towards the Quadi village, where they would load up the loot and slaves before returning to Moganticum, at the confluence of Rhenus and Maine.
Hulderic saw my father through his pain, and grabbed him with his right hand, pulling him gently closer. I stood near them, and could hear Grandfather's voice rasping. His breath formed bloody bubbles on his sword-split throat. He strained himself as he grasped Maroboodus's armored shoulder. 'Son, you should not have returned. He will not have forgotten. Bero. And the prophecy …'
Father did not seem to hear.
'They killed her, Father. I could not save her. I cannot save you. They came for me. I am sorry.' Maroboodus clutched his father's hand hard, and the older man slapped his back weakly to console his son.
'Worry not. I will hail her, if I see her, but she was a good woman. You must believe it. You have two sons. Two, remember that, and one is better than the other. Two sons, believe it.' His voice got noticeably weaker.
'Who is a better boy, Father? What do you mean?' Father was saying tiredly, and I felt deep foreboding, and remembered what Tear had uttered about my future with Father.
Hulderic grasped Maroboodus close. 'The curse, the prophecy. Promise me you will take the boys, and go away from Germania. It is necessary.'
Maroboodus shook his head. 'No, Father. I don't believe in it.'
'I promised the mail and the sword to Hraban,' my grandfather whispered sadly.
Hulderic shuddered, his back went rigid, and he died, Draupnir's Spawn rolling from his hand. Maroboodus picked it up gingerly, and bent his head in grief.
I saw Gernot approaching, smiling briefly at me, the spark of betrayal behind his beady eye
s.
Betrayal by those who are closest to you was the ultimate trial for any man. I failed that day.
Gernot appeared slightly bloody and bleeding from a small puncture wound. He placed his foul hand on Grandfather's cold arm, and turned his tear-filled eyes to Maroboodus. In his hand, he held the bloodied framea I had thrown at Koun. I stood shocked with my mouth hanging open, for I knew what was going to happen. Gernot was making his bid for power in our family.
'Father, I am your son, Gernot. It was I who threw this spear at the leader of the dog. I did this so you would be proud of me, Father, and to avenge my beloved grandfather and mother.'
Gernot gave the spear to Maroboodus, and most everyone but Wandal and Tudrus the Younger and his brothers were either nodding in gentle approval or cheering softly, a strange sound in such a terrible place. The lithe man in my father's war band was looking at the boy shrewdly, then he was looking at me, and I think he anticipated what I was about to do for he tried to move between us, but he was too late.
'Liar! Bastard liar! You were hiding. You should have saved Sigilind, you sniveling little swine,' I screamed, and pounced quickly for him.
His face distorted in terrible hate, and Father sprang up snake-fast, just before I could grab Gernot, who backed away quickly. Maroboodus moved like the swiftest viper, and I felt the back of his brutal hand connect with my face. I fell, my head aching. I could hear Wandal screaming I had spoken the truth, and I heard my father scoff in derision. I was hurt, bereft of the family I knew and utterly betrayed. I hated my brother, and that hate would never truly go away.
I struggled to my elbows and peered weakly at father, who was staring back at me. 'I am Hraban. Your son,' I said, bitterly.
Instinctively, Maroboodus licked his thick lips and kneeled next to me in sudden tenderness and regret, brushing my hair away from my face. His hand froze, and his eyes fixed on the hair, so unlike his, and I could see the doubt playing on his face. At that moment, my fate was sealed. He hesitated. I saw him glancing at the body of Mother, and I could see him pondering over what Hulderic had said to him, but jealousy is a beast hard to kill, doubt is its friend, and both were heavy in his mind. Instead of tender care, he steeled his face and soul.
The Oath Breaker: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 1) Page 11
