The Oath Breaker: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 1)

by Alaric Longward

  'Stop,' he said with impatience. 'Hraban.'

  'I do not like when you voice my name, Odo. You make it sound like cold vomit,' I told him, ungrateful for his part in saving my life.

  'Uttering it tastes like vomit, but I do it anyway,' he snarled. 'Tomorrow, Hraban, you fulfill your deal with Tear, and your father.'

  I looked around, but we were alone. If I killed him that day, it could be beneficial.

  He sneered at me, having read my mind. 'Slaying me, Hraban, would not be wise. My mother would put a curse on you. You would die, crying helplessly, spewing fat maggots. And dear Ishild would help her with the spell.'

  'I knew a man who said you are all silly charlatans, so I will just be careful with what I eat and no maggots will become fat, and I'll live a long, happy life,' I told him frankly as I pulled out the seax, strangely allured by the thought of using it on the vitka.

  He eyed me warily. 'Nothing good will come out of this, Hraban.'

  'You would use me,' I said. 'You would use me to fetch a small girl, and I would be damned. You stand there, lording over me, ordering me about.'

  Odo nodded, his eyes going to the crude dagger. 'Yes. And you will fetch this girl we need, Hraban. That way, you get the fame and riches, and we get what we wish for. But of course, feel free to try to slay me, and see what mad spirits will torment you in the afterlife.' He bared his skinny neck to me, his eyes looking strange and unholy.

  'Perhaps I will take a risk,' I said, placing the seax on his neck. 'And trust Ishild to keep me safe from your sorceries, for I sense she does not like you. Perhaps she would like to be free? Your mother also surely regrets giving birth to you, and likely does not need you.'

  I tried to force myself to murder, though I had only meant to threaten him to begin with. It was tempting. The vitka serving Bero's needs, especially Bark and Wulf, would protect me, surely. On the other hand, perhaps they would thank me first, and then cast me to the swift river with a stone in my ankles. One must not trust a vitka.

  Odo hissed as he looked at me. 'I have lived all my life amongst your kind. Fine blade in hand, sharp spear first. You bully and torture your way forward until some more savage bully puts you down, and then you lie there, crying like sick babes to your mothers. Kill me, and you will perish sadly. Take the chance.'

  I spat at the ground. 'Speak then.' I did not remove the blade.

  'Tomorrow, a deed is needed. Did you see the Roman houses down below in the harbor? Yes? I will need a statue of their god, of the dolt, Hercules.'

  'You said you need me to help you with the girl? Nihta mentioned I would help us topple the vitka. Now you ask me to plunder a damned foreign temple? Sounds like a foolish suicide,' I growled in confusion. 'It seems more than one deed.'

  He was edging away from the blade. I was in a fey mood, and did not let him, moving with him.

  He stopped moving. 'They are all one. Hercules is a god who carries a knobbed club. Looks like you, an ugly buffoon. You go and get it.'

  We were quiet for a while as I wrestled with myself. It would be a favor to Bero as well, killing Odo. I needed not trust Bark and Wulf. Surely, Bero would appreciate this. But could I do it?

  He continued, calmly and slowly as if speaking to a dangerous beast. 'Then, you will bring the statue, an old Roman sword Nihta will leave you with, and drop them at the Flowery Meadows where their ridiculous priests meet, and you will do this just before the Thing begins. After sundown, but well before midnight.'

  'And how do I get there to leave these items? Surely, they will object? In addition, they are guarded,' I hissed at him.

  'They would object, but will not. You take this.' He handed me a wooden bottle.

  'There will be guards at the shrine, Odo. You think I can handle them?' I said, as I gingerly fingered the bottle.

  He smiled. 'There are a great many guards, but there are men who know where they are, and how many. Men the guards know well and foolishly trust, even if they should not.'

  I nodded. Father had allies here. I twirled the bottle before his eyes. 'You wish me to drink it? It will make me immortal, perhaps? In a final way?'

  'No. I wish you to go to the Flowery Meadows, sneak in carefully if you can, and pour this into their spirit drink. It will be in a dank cellar to the right of an ancient ruined house,' he told me. 'They will all drink this spirit just before the Thing, praying for guidance from their gods. Thus, they would come to the Thing, full of their holy strength. We will stop them.'

  I stared at him and took the seax away. 'You wish me to poison all the holy men and women there?' I asked him incredulously.

  'Why not? They are all silly charlatans, you told me?' he said sarcastically, rubbing the spot where the blade had rested.

  'If I am unable to cut your throat, then why do you think I would do this?”

  He laughed dryly. 'You are not unable, just not ready yet.'

  'And Wulf? The man I have known all my life?' I snarled. 'Poison him too?'

  'Him, too. But it is not lethal poison. It will render them helpless, and they will live, though not in the Hard Hill,' Odo said calmly, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his bony hand. 'They will be cursed by the gods, vomiting helplessly, hollering in terror and running around like men in stupor, and your Maroboodus will have a chance at ousting Bero. Your father? Remember him and the holy oath you gave him?'

  'Under his raised fist, yes, I do,' I told him bitterly.

  'The fists above you in Balderich's hall are no less real, you fool,' he told me. 'When you go there, there is a small girl. Dimple on her sallow cheek. Not old, not even ten.'

  I felt chills as he explained this. 'And I will bring her to you?'

  'When she gets sick from this drink, you will grab her. You will hold her safe after the deed, and when your father is in power, bring her to me and then, perhaps, your part is done. We will need the ring, too, but your grateful father will loan it to us, and get it back. Give me an oath that you will do this, and I will help you get your position in the tribe back, even if I dislike you. One day, if the gods degree it, we will settle our other scores,' he said, his eyes glittering. 'So I swear by my god of the deep.' His voice was desperate, zealous.

  I shuddered in fear, but spat. 'Your mother is not as happy about your god of the deep as you are.'

  'My mother and I, we don't agree on many things,' he hissed.

  'Will you kill the girl?'

  He looked away, quickly, licking his lips. 'I will not.'

  He was lying. I was surprised he was such a bad liar.

  'And my position and riches you promise me? When the world ends, I will be buried with these riches? Why would I do this, I ask again?'

  He looked exasperated. 'What have you got to lose, boy? Let us see if there is any merit in the prophecy. If it is but the spirits making a grand joke on us? You will benefit. Aid us, and aid yourself. Worlds end, one day. Be what you can be while it lasts. Give me an oath.'

  'Oath? I give you an oath that I will consider it,' I said and backed off, cursing him and myself for not having cut his neck.

  His eyes followed me in the dark, mocking me. I walked away, fingering his bottle. I was swimming in deep waters, and there were strong currents, much stronger than I was.

  I made my way to the Red Hall. Rows of benches were placed outside on the large clearing, but when I sneaked back to my room by a side door, gloomy Leuthard was there. We made eye contact briefly. He was sitting on my bed, his bald head glittering with thin sheet of sweat.

  'Your grandfather wants you,' he grumbled. 'He is not happy you left without a word. Or guard.'

  'I took a shit,' I told him. 'Is that your business?'

  He grunted. 'We have seen you take many a shit, boy, and do not like to miss seeing any of them. You are a bit too sneaky for your own good.' I frowned, but he ignored it, pulling me after him. 'Now come.'

  I went reluctantly, and there they were, my relatives, seated in the main hall, all save fair Gunhild. Frowning Bero was l
ounging before the smoldering fire pit, and he smiled at me thinly. Balderich got up to stalk slowly back and forth. He looked relieved, yet nervous. Leuthard pushed me to the middle.

  'I took a shit, as I told the egg head here,' I said. 'Why did you need me?'

  Bero shook his head tiredly. 'We do not need you. You need us.'

  Balderich walked to me. 'Your father is coming. He has helped the Quadi butcher the fools of Hermanduri, and is a famous hero amongst the tribes there, and even the Marcomanni near the lands of the Hermanduri, the Hercynian wilds.'

  They stared at me as the fire slowly crackled. I sweated and took a seat, trying to find a pose that seemed fitting for a man, and trying not to look like a treasonous, greedy toad.

  Balderich understood my dilemma. 'It is ever so, Hraban, that man must make hard choices. I call you one, a man, for you will get your spear and your shield after things have settled down.'

  Bero was less amicable. 'Come, what is your price? I know you know I need the seed of Aristovistus to be seen near the Marcomannic throne when your great-grandfather dies, let that day be far, so you know I will hold you in very high esteem. What do you want? Remember, Hraban, you have given oath to a father, but he does not hold you as a son.'

  I nodded and felt thoroughly miserable. However, he was right, Maroboodus had not acted like a father. He had treated me like a mangy, unwanted dog. He sent me to unknown fates, to the enemy-festering Hard Hill, and he sought to use me to further Odo's mad plans. Hulderic had asked me to take heed of my father, but he had also told me to thwart Odo and Tear. Therefore, I cast my dice, and felt better, for there were indeed things I wanted.

  'I want Vago dead. Moreover, I want to punish my brother. Koun the Vangione as well. And my rightful place, and deserved respect.'

  Bero looked down. 'Vago? You want a war with the Vangiones?'

  'They killed Marcomanni. I thought we were at war with them?' I spat, but Bero was hesitant.

  I spied a look of disgust deepening on Leuthard's face.

  Bero stalked back and forth.

  Balderich stopped him and spoke. 'Yes. We will avenge Hulderic and my daughter. Your brother, you will handle as you see best, but you shall not commit a crime while doing it. Be discreet as a wiser man. This Koun? He will suffer for his part in the downfall of my family. Respect? That you already have, here.'

  All I wanted. Right there. However, Bero had hesitated.

  'I have terms, too,' said a man in the shadows. It was Wulf, and he walked stiffly over. 'I want you to give the damned ring to me, in return for all of this.'

  'The prophecy worries you? Bah!' Bero sneered. 'The ring goes to me. It is my price, not yours.'

  Wulf fidgeted but nodded. 'In that case, I want Tear's and Odo's heads, no matter where they might be found. And I want Ishild. Evil gods whisper with their family, and that corruption must be washed away.'

  There I was. Dealing death to my aloof father, my traitorous brother, and the woman who liked me, one I had flirted with, even kissed. It bothered me. I felt like a trapped animal.

  Wulf addressed me. 'You, Hraban, know me. Trust me, this is needed. I could have killed you any time when you were younger, but I did not. It is my weakness to like you, but I do not like Tear, Odo, nor do I like Ishild. They are all evil spawn, and should be gone from this world before they hurt it irreparably. Your father's death will keep us safe, but I want something permanent done with the family of Tear. They will still seek you out, if Maroboodus falls. We will use you to fish them out. All of them.'

  I shrugged, and with the heaviest self-loathing, I said, 'Yes. I agree.'

  I would extract Ishild from an evil fate, I convinced myself.

  Balderich nodded, unhappily. 'In that case, tell me where Odo and Nihta are, for we cannot find them. He has slaughtered men, many men the past week though I cannot prove it, and we think he has some renegade men to help him. We have hundreds of spears and the priests on our side, and can deal with brutal force with your father, but we do not wish to make a fallen hero of him.'

  My grandfather groaned as he straightened his back, and I understood he was worried about the coming confrontations, no matter how many spears he had.

  'It is prudent to squash an angry bee, even if it cannot truly hurt you,' said Bero calmly. 'Tell us, what is their foolish plan? Other than to discredit us.'

  I stood up and prayed to Woden for forgiveness. 'I do not know where they are, but Odo wanted me to sneak like a thief to the Flowery Meadows and use some sort of poison in their holy spirit drink. Just before the Thing, when they are all there. They think they could handle the guards. I was also to take a girl, a small girl that seems to attract Odo's nasty attentions, and…'

  Wulf hummed. 'They think you are the Raven, and that you are the one who must be the catalyst of the terrible events to come, no doubt. There is indeed a girl that lives with a certain woman, Hraban, one small girl they desire. We have kept her safe, very safe, since she came to us, years past.'

  'I have no wish to hurt children, never did,' I told Wulf, meaning it.

  'I know you, Hraban, and believe you,' he told me evenly, with an assuring smile. 'Yet, one has to be careful, because few know what the terrible prophecy truly asks for. It is a road, Hraban, one must either find or avoid. I am happy you are avoiding it.'

  I showed them the dull-colored bottle, and Bero took it gingerly, fingering it. He nodded and put it away into a pouch. 'We guard the vitka, of course, and have some fifty loyal men out there around the place. The vitka are quite safe, and you would not have gotten anywhere near them. Nor any number of men helping your father, curse them. We are keeping an eye on everything out there, miles around the Meadows. But I thank you, for this dooms Odo. He will be a hunted man, despised through the lands for daring to raise his hand against the holy men and women. Now, anything else? On Nihta, perhaps?'

  I thought about Nihta, and I thought about the unlucky, dead man in the ship, and Isfried glowering while he walked. I opened my mouth, but then thought of my father, and if I had truly done him justice. I thought of Ishild, a girl I thought I cared for, as a friend, and I thought of Wulf's request. I was indecisive, and felt like a damned coward. So I said nothing, my thoughts churning with desire for a clear road ahead and happier times.

  'Nothing?' Bero asked.

  I shook my head. I had thwarted the death of the vitka. It was plenty. Balderich nodded happily, but Bero leaned on me. 'Does your father carry the Head Taker?'

  I brightened, happy to relieve him and not give away Nihta. 'He gave it to the gods, and none else saw it. He wanted to hurt me, I think, for I coveted it. It is in the river.'

  'It is given to Woden? You saw this? And do not lie?' Bero asked, his face shining like the sun.

  'I did see it and wept for it. One of the deeds that makes me hate him,' I told them bitterly.

  'Good, good,' Bero said. Strange joy filled him. 'Tear was lying then, in her cursed augury about my demise. If the sword is gone, I will not die while dealing with Maroboodus.'

  I was surprised by his fears, and realized his slow warfare with Hulderic must have been a very taxing thing for him if he dreamt of dying to Head Taker. Now, he was a happy, jubilant man, able to act at his will, and seemed to grow many inches by his newfound confidence.

  'But you do not know where Nihta is, then?' he asked me one more time.

  I shook my head. 'No, Lord.'

  Bero nodded, sadly. He glanced at me, wrestling with something, took a deep breath and leaned closer to me. 'Did my son die to the blade?' he asked me carefully, hoping I knew.

  'Father said he did,' I told him slowly. 'Though he fought well,' I lied, for I didn't know the truth of that. Bero nodded, gloomily contemplating my words. I hesitated and opened my mouth nervously. 'I know where he died. Maino.'

  'You do?' he choked.

  'Yes. Maino followed Father to the north of the village, a valley by the river, a small one. There is an old stone there. This is where Maino died, and wh
ere his skull is buried.'

  'I…' Bero stammered, moved so much he went on a knee before me.

  'Father said it was the night of the Drimilchi Thing, and every year at midnight, one can see him there, and speak with him, if one dares. He has witnessed it…he has mocked him there.'

  'Gods will have vengeance. I will have it!' Bero said, with a quiver of anger in his voice. 'I will bury him. In a place of my choosing. I thank you, Hraban, I do thank you. Leuthard, take Fulch the Red and go and add to the fifty that guard the vitka. Take two more champions, as well. I will get ready with my men on the hill. Maroboodus has but few men. I am sorry if you will mourn him, Hraban.'

  'I have to bear it,' I told him, confused at my mixed feelings.

  Leuthard saluted his lord and left in a hurry. Balderich brought out a shield of thick leather, beautifully crafted with the intricate symbol of chain and sun. A strong spear made of bluish steel was placed in front of me.

  'Yours, Hraban,' he said. 'The weapons of our great relative. The night you lose a worthless father.'

  'Aristovistus?' I said, eyeing the great gear, running my finger across the painted chain.

  'Aristovistus,' Balderich said gravely. 'Our blood, was sent that crude slave-chain by Caesar.'

  He nodded sadly at the chain wound around the standard of Balderich.

  He continued, 'Caesar told him to receive the simple gift, for our relative would be enslaved and taken to Rome in the chain after the terrible battle. Aristovistus hung it on his proud standard to show Caesar he did not fear. Now, it hangs there.' He smiled at the dusty chain hung from a cross pole standard over the pale wolf figure. 'Ever have we all faced grave danger and hard choices by living here, by the Romans, Hraban. Fret not.'

  Bero spoke, as if seeing distant times. 'That standard waved over the Suebi tribes that day, when the legions cut them to pieces. Aristovistus barely survived to shame, yes, but soon we will have a vast, feared nation again. A strong one. That standard is the symbol of survival. You just survived, too.'