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

by Alaric Longward

  Nihta cursed and released the stone ball.

  It flew in the air, spinning down in the blink of an eye, hitting the centurion in the chest. He flew violently in the air to land on his back ten feet away, dead as a stone, his eyes wide open in shock. The young man sitting on a horse blanched and trembled, and looked at Nihta who was pointing at him as two men were reloading the ballista. The Roman officer took off in a wild canter. Nihta reloaded, turned the weapon to the Romans pushing at Maroboodus at the gate and fired at the optio who did not realize he was again in command. He missed the optio, but tore a hole in the ranks, and into this hole went my father.

  To break a shield wall, to wreak havoc in a desperate fight; a great chief would be remembered for these things. To risk one's life was worth more than a thousand wise decisions in the Thing, and my father did that. He charged into the hole made by Nihta's weapon, and then charged through, laying waste right and left, his heart fearless, and the Romans fell.

  More men came in after him with heavy axes and cruel, iron-tipped cudgels and the hole got bigger, and the Germani pushed and pulled their way in until they were through the line, and then the slaughter began. Romans who had their shields on their left hands were first to die, the ones on the other side could protect themselves better, but the slaughter was ready as our men, desperate and battle-mad, tore into the enemy like a pack of wild dogs. They knew they would die if the Matticati and the Vangiones managed to break in.

  The Romans manning the earth walls and stakes saw what was happening and uncertainly, here and there, men took a step back. The Marcomanni crawling in the ditch renewed their hope, pulling and tearing themselves up the wall, and some enemy ran. Most stood their ground, and in the gate, some form of defense was regained as the optio screamed his boy-like voice hoarse. If they could hold until the Matticati and Vangiones won, they might make it. Just some minutes, but it was a vain hope. Maroboodus's well trained shields kept thousands of undisciplined enemy at bay, moving back very, very slowly in a mad melee.

  This I saw as I rushed for Wandal, my friend. On the wall a final, desperate attempt by a dozen Romans was being made. They had nearly reached the ballista, and Wandal was swooning and leaning on a wall, vomiting. Nihta screamed. 'Keep them! Keep them, and we shall win.' He fired a ballista round at the largest, still fighting legionnaires, killing many, making them gape and look up, and some of our men were taking unused Roman weaponry and throwing them down at the hapless enemy. Our men outside retreated towards the fortress gate, leaving a stream of dead and wounded in their wake. The dozen Romans on the wall realized much was depending on them. They had already nearly reached us, but a voice commanded them to do their duty.

  'Kill the boys. Kill the bearded, weak boys so they can meet their rancid ancestors! Blade in and out!' the voice shouted unsteadily.

  I had heard that voice before. I forgot it as they charged, and there were few to counter them, only three other men and Wandal, who was wounded. More were rushing from below, guided by my father who was sending contingents all over the fort, especially for the other gates while the majority of his men tried to break the men led by the young optio. Some of our men had reached the other ballista, and from the other side of the fort, the deadly barrage now started, aimed at Vago and his Vangiones. Horses in their hundreds were milling around, neighing, and dust was rising up in the morning air, The Romans attacked our ballistae moving like they were in a cloud, with their swords glinting weakly. Wandal hefted his shield and took up his hammer, a blond man picked up an axe and two others had framea. I ran in front of them.

  'We will die, but let us die well. Woden is watching!' screamed the man with an axe, surprising the tough legionnaires. The man, ululating wildly, smashed his weapon down so hard on a shield that it split, taking an arm of a legionnaire. A gladius through the heart killed the axe man, and he fell in front of the assaulting Romans, who started to push over the corpse for us, cursing and gnashing their teeth.

  We went forward while they were trying to hop over the slippery wood. Wandal looked weak but was pushing his shaking shield forward, his knees trembling. I was on his right side, guarding him as he guarded my left side. He was holding a heavy hammer, I had my sword, and Nightbright snaked up towards a grinning legionnaire who blocked me with ease, and then the blade came in from below the shield, reaching for my gut. I remember little of that, except the utter hopelessness as the edge entered my skin.

  I was to die, and Catualda was watching me.

  I cursed in terror and shame. Wandal swung the hammer in the eye of the legionnaire. He flew into a rage, the tall boy no longer playing war with the Quadi, bashing his shield to push the veteran soldiers back. He was swinging his weapon with skill and rage to keep them off me, screaming Donor's name, mightily exerting himself and giving the supreme sacrifice, pushing for the legionnaires who were gritting their teeth, desperately trying to reach the ballista now butchering Matticati and Vangiones.

  A legionnaire fell on thick blood, and Wandal swung his heavy weapon in the knee of the man, who shrieked in pain as his leg buckled weirdly. The legionnaire grabbed Wandal who fell on him, his shield flying. They were cursing and wrestling, and the two men with us charged forward to push the legionnaires back. I rose up behind them and saw Wandal bite the Roman in the face, a demonic sight. In the smoke, some more Romans were advancing, but they were anxiously looking down to the yard where our men were howling and victorious, streaming back and forth, killing wounded men, assaulting the last of the legionnaires the optio was holding in a ragged line.

  'Get them! Puny whoresons! Kill the pitiful, unarmored monkeys!' the officer in the smoke called, and they renewed the assault. The two Marcomanni died nearly instantly as two men without helmets punctured them in unison. One of them grabbed Wandal by the hair and threw him against the wall, slapped the hammer from his hand, and pushed him over the parapet.

  I was alone, astonished at what had happened.

  I forgot the pain in my gut. Woden sang to me; I saw his twin dragon helmet dancing in the mist, in the midst of a frenzied, savage dance, and I grabbed Nightbright. I screamed a yell so primal that men shuddered and pointed at me, and the general melee below died away for a second. I charged the man who had thrown Wandal down, and Nightbright moved like a snake. I whipped my blade into his face, puncturing his eye so hard his neck broke, and I remember throwing him to the two other men.

  I jumped on the next one, getting a sword in my shoulder, growling it away, hacking my light blade to the throat of the man in front of me, slicing the scarf around his neck, and then there were only two left, and the officer. They were both cautious, pushing their shields towards me. I yelped like an angry dog, growled like a mad bear, spat and laughed, and then charged. I was sure to die, but I did not, for the other one was young and scared. My bronze helmet's eyeholes were smoldering with anger, and he hesitated. I grabbed his shield, slicing my blade into his exposed thigh, taking a shield bash from the other man. I turned to him and hit his helmetless head so hard with my head that his eyes rolled over. I ran my sword clumsily at his groin, grunting at the ring mail that did not want to yield, but did enough for him to howl and jump off the wall, hollering in pain. There was just one man.

  It was a Roman optio with a mad, scarred face from the time my grandfather died: Cornix, the companion to Koun and Antius. He stalked me calmly, his shield high. I laughed and jumped on that shield, and Cornix stumbled. I was going to slay him as he fell on his back, but then a man tackled me, and I fell off the wall, hearing Catualda laugh while he hung on to me as we fell. We hit the ground, and I remembered nothing else of the battle that made my father a legend.

  CHAPTER XX

  I recalled a man, likely old Hengsti, on his haunches before me, looking concerned. His helmet sported long, white horsehair, his face strong and lean. His eyes were sympathetic. 'Well fought, son of Maroboodus. I regret to tell you, your father does not want to trade you back, so I will not see you fight again. However,
we will sing about you while we wait for your father to starve in our fort,' he told me softly. I passed out again.

  I remembered Cornix and Catualda, both looking down at me, and I was awake when I was rowed over Rhenus River. I remember Catualda cursing Cornix. The Roman brusquely forbid Catualda to ride free, and I laughed. Armin would wait for him in vain. I remember seeing Moganticum, the mighty Roman fort atop a bluff, two cities of the Gauls sprawling around the harbor below.

  I also remembered a legionnaire cussing foully, speaking to another one, spinning a tale of the swift Quadi who had evidently sneaked up on the besieging Vangiones and Matticati, giving Father a great victory. Indeed, it was to be a victory that would be sung across Germania, giving Maroboodus and the traitorous Sibratus of the Quadi great fame, the slayers of Hengsti, banes of Vangiones and Matticati, unheard of takers of an impregnable Roman fort and their priceless weapons. I also heard the guards speak of Tudrus, who had fled with some of his men to the north and joined the Sigambri. That made me happy for he, at least, was likely safe.

  My wounds exhausted me, plunging me to deep sleep until I woke up inside a wagon at the gates of a city, which was not Moganticum. I was feverish, but managed to push up to my elbows to gaze about. I saw Vangiones around me, the dregs of a defeated army. I saw Cornix weighing a heavy coin sack a Vangione had just given him. Antius was speaking with torn and bloody Vago, and next to the Vangione king stood Catualda, upset and angry. Antius saw I was alert and awake, and ambled closer.

  'Welcome to Burbetomagus, the capital of the Mediomactri and of the Vangiones, City of the Two Rivers,' he said happily.

  'Where is Wandal?' My mouth was dry as sand.

  'I know no Wandal, boy. But you are here, for Vago has a need of you. Your father has made a fool of him again.'

  'And of Rome,' I said softly and a bit proudly, though I was no friend to my father.

  'Well, that depends,' he told me and visibly mulled over something, fidgeting nervously. He took out some fine dice and threw them. I did not see the result, but he grunted and got up ponderously for such a fat man. 'I shall tell you some secrets, Hraban. It is my weakness to see no man go to his death ignorant. I make no mistake if I think you will die soon, and I know none would believe you if you tried to share the secrets. To die young is unfortunate, boy, but that is the deal I made with Vago, and it is something he desires, as well.'

  I scoffed. 'His druid thinks I am something of a danger, a harbinger to the destruction of the world,' I said scornfully, touching my chest, which was infected from a wound I had received at Hard Hill, reopened by my fall from the fort. There were others, I saw; many wounds, all barely bound.

  He giggled. 'Indeed. Madmen, are they not? Catualda there has served us well, and is going to serve Rome after he explains to Vago what happened to Koun and Vannius. Then he goes to Moganticum to serve the new legate of the XVII legion, Gaius Sentius Saturninus. He will be rewarded, but I think he is unhappy to be here, and I know he wished to leave after reaching Rhenus.' He chuckled. 'You know what he planned?'

  I did not wish to give away the ring, but I smiled happily. 'He killed Koun.'

  Antius scrutinized the Vangione king nervously. 'Best not let Vago know that. You see, this is my problem. You, a peasant boy, have survived so far, and while you have helped your father, you are a constant risk to our plans and us. You have been the only part of the plan that has been unstable and risky.'

  'I won't help him again, so you are welcome to kill the bastard,' I told him. 'And I am a noble, not a peasant.'

  He snickered. 'You do not understand. I am grateful for your help, but I think you have become a risk for Maroboodus. We wish him to succeed.'

  'What?' I asked softly, staring at the fat man.

  Antius looked at me with simple pity. 'He is doing a favor for Rome and, of course, to himself. Why do you think he is in power, why do you think he won in the lands of the Matticati? I set it up for him though he drafted his share of the plans and took the risks. Cornix made it so that the centurion thought the men under the red banner were legitimate. It was easy. Despite Cornix, he might have failed to take the fort, but the fort was not fully manned, and there were delays in building it. All my doing. It was weak, and had few men. Far fewer it should have had, most dead now. The men mean nothing, though. The expendable Vangiones have been raped twice now, the famed Matticati are scattered, the old Hengsti is dead. Maroboodus is a dread hero, slayer of old Agrippa and now taker of a Roman fort. Just like I want him to be.'

  'What are you talking about,' I asked him, confused, denying his words with a weak shake of my head. He smiled, enjoying himself, for all secretive bastards like to brag when there is little danger of getting caught.

  Antius came closer, whispering. 'Felix worked for me; he was my slave and helped Maroboodus with so many things. The boy is likely dead now in Castrum Luppia, the fool. He liked you enough to leave me. Just like Tear helped your father on my request, Felix was useful in so many ways. Him and yon Catualda, were both working well for me. I don't know why Catualda did. To be honest, I think he had some strange motives. There were complications, yes, with Odo insisting you kill the vitka, and you with the club, Bark surviving, you balancing on the sides, and the possibility of Maroboodus dying to some shadowed murderer or in war, but such risks are risks in any business venture, and it went well enough.' He clapped my arm affectionately, and I snatched my hand away. 'You are easy to manipulate and helped your father many times, but after this discussion, it is all over.'

  I spat at him, shaking my head. 'Catualda, that worm there, told Rome and the Vangiones where my father lives and then joined him after they failed. Catualda fooled Maroboodus, and now you say you have manipulated my father to succeed? Poor Bero and my betrayed grandfather, Balderich, were innocent, I know that now.'

  He sighed. 'Gods, you have a thick head. No, Maroboodus was not fooled by Catualda,' he said, as if to a child. 'Though now, Catualda has apparently left him? It matters not.'

  'Was not fooled?' I asked dangerously.

  He nodded and sighed, stretching his neck as he stared at me. 'Rome is changing. It is so, that one man rules its armies and much of the influence and coin. That is our Augustus. How to make that a permanent state of affairs? How to make it so the foul, corrupt republic does not return after the old man finally dies? You make sure there are none of the high, noble men to turn back time and call for the sodden republic. And so we need your father to be the hero of the Germani, and the terrible enemy of Rome. A state in war is a state that needs firm leadership, held by one man.'

  'You need him to be enemy to Rome? I do not understand,' I said, afraid he would not tell me.

  He nodded, speaking softly and slowly as if to a simpleton, and I bristled at his tone. 'Rome needs enemies right now. There has to be a hostile frontier where we send those Romans who would desire the Republic back. There has to be a constant war, where the mightiest of those opposing Augustus go find glory. Some will die at the hands of the Germani. Augustus will mourn, but in the end, perhaps he will not mourn if some of his enemies die at the hands of Maroboodus.'

  'My father is many things, but he would not help Rome, and he killed Agrippa, who was not an enemy to Augustus!'

  He snickered. 'The skull of Agrippa? A fancy story. Agrippa died of thick snot, Hraban. He was ancient and ill, and Augustus made him travel too often and too far. The skull belonged to a Syrian male prostitute. However, it was convenient to spread rumor here in the north. Few have heard this lie in the south, or anywhere else where I have not spoken of it. Yet here, many do believe it. Agrippa killed by a Germani chief? Many believe it, many local Romans do.

  ‘It is like building a business, Hraban. It needs stories, it needs successes. Now, after Castrum Luppia, Maroboodus is a looming shadow of chaos in the minds of old men of Rome, and even there they might think he also killed Agrippa, for he is foe to Rome. It is amusing. But, Hraban, the truth is that Maroboodus is quite Roman. He was made a Roman,
and when it is all over, and his terror is no longer needed, he will be the Roman who rules vast, rich lands in the southern part of your rivers, where the Boii live now. Others of similar mind will rule the north, and Rome owns these fine men. He will get many precious things, your father, after certain men have died here fighting against him and his budding alliance, men threatening the rulership of our Augustus and his legacy. Perhaps Maroboodus even gets his son back.'

  'Me?' I asked, my mind whirling.

  'No, not you fool. His Roman son,' Antius said tediously, and I looked up to the sky, dreading his story, for rage was eating me from inside, and I was weak.

  He sighed and wrung his fat fingers. 'He did not wish your Sigilind to die, but Hulderic was a problem. Therefore, we arranged the Vangiones to attack the village, which he then saved, as was the plan. Catualda was his middle hand, the one the Vangiones would believe. His Marcus knew about it, gave us all the information we needed to set it up. He let Hulderic die, waiting in the woods until it happened. Then Maroboodus was the victim, and the hero, in the eyes of your people.'

  'I’ll crack your skull for these lies,' I said weakly, knowing he was speaking the truth.

  He smiled benignly, and I hated him as he continued, 'Vago has this thought that your family threaten this world, and was happy to help. He wants you dead and to be rewarded by the gods. Sigilind was an unfortunate part of the story. Yet, Maroboodus is now in the place some in Rome wish him to be in, and he will be rewarded, and he and Vago have to get along for both serve the same master. You and Koun were fools to think Catualda has the brains to manipulate so many great men. If it helps at all, Maroboodus thinks highly of your bravery and even toyed with the idea of taking you into his circle of trust, but I advised against it. Sooner or later, you would turn on him.'

  I nodded, fighting back tears of rage. 'So the princeps of Rome is building up my father, who only wanted Sigilind, and the rest of us could go to Hel? He wanted Sigilind, wishes for power and rich lands, under a foul Roman master, and wants his Roman son as a reward?'