Adalwulf: The Two Swords (Tales of Germania Book 1) (28 page)

Decimus made a silly wheezing sound, and the girl tensed, ready to send him on his way. And us after him.

“And what then?” Iodocus asked her quickly.

“Excuse me?” she said, keeping the dagger in place.

“What shall you do when you slit his throat, kill Adalwulf there, and cut my balls?” he asked, and both Decimus and I were shaking our heads at him. He ignored our efforts. “What will you do then? Go out to the wilds? Back to your house?”

“I’ll marry again,” she said uncertainly. “There will be someone who will love me.”

“You could
still
be rich,” Iodocus said with a mysterious smile. “Affluent. I took the coins and treasures. I buried them. Hid them well.”

She hesitated. Greed was playing on her face. “You did? You wouldn’t be lying, would you?”

“Release me, and I’ll fetch them for you,” Iodocus said as steadily as he could. “I’ll give you
everything.”

“You just might save your balls,” she said joyfully. “But you cannot go to the village. They’d kill you up there. And why would you come back with them? You’d disappear, and leave me with nothing but my vengeance.”

Iodocus pursed his lips. “See, I’m oath bound to Adalwulf there, and—”

“He won’t leave this place alive,” she said sweetly. “No, he won’t. You might. You tell me where they are hidden, and I’ll go get them. Then you’ll have to trust
me
to come back. I think this is a best deal you might get, no? I agree it is a long shot, leaving you desperately hoping I am more honest and better than you were to me, but still the best you might get?”

Iodocus sat there, brooding. “No.”

Elisedd fidgeted, enough so that the blade on Decimus’s throat drew blood. “No?” she asked, dangerously.

“No, you Hades-born bitch,” he said flatly.

“A bit of a dilemma this, no?” Decimus said, squinting at her. “Here’s what
I
suggest.”

“Speak,” she said, eying Iodocus murderously.

Decimus smiled like the rogue he was, impressively nonchalant about the blood that ran down his chain mailed chest. “I want the riches as well. Who wouldn’t? Well, except these men. The big maniac likes to kill. Probably has lots of wealth, but don’t know how to find joy out of it. Blood for him, that’s all he needs. Adalwulf and the Celt here, they want to keep their damned word. Word, can you imagine? So, they don’t, obviously, qualify as intelligent men. Otherwise they’d be living deep in Gaul covered with their own vomit after days of feasting. They don’t care for the treasure. You and I do. We share that. And
more
.”

“Go on,” Iodocus said, hoping the charming thief would get us out of the puddle.

“I tell him to shut up, to go on, or to die,” she told Iodocus with an unhappy scowl, and nodded at Decimus. “Go on.”

“Here’s what I suggest,” he said succinctly. “I’ll sign a confession.”

She squinted. “Sign?”

“Write, then sign,” he said carefully. “I’ll write a scroll, love, where I admit to being a thief, a bastard of a first degree. I’ll admit to buggering Augustus, if that’s what you want,
love.”

“Love?” she asked, smiling thinly. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Yes,
love
. I respect you. I do. I loved you once, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t remember me,” she said with an unhappy frown.

He scoffed. “I cannot remember Celt names very well. I know your face. I know what we shared. It’s my fault, really. I’m a fool. I struck my head when I fell off my horse as a child. But I do love you. I’ll prove it. I’ll pour all my villainy onto a parchment. Or whatever they write on in here. I’ll give that parchment to you. If I lie, may Mars kick my skull to the bottom of the sea if I do, you can give it to any Roman officer, and my head will roll to the amusement of all the people I have cheated on. But I don’t lie. You’ll be my mistress, holding life and death power over me for the rest of my life, and I’ll love it. Then, when I leave the army, I’ll need a wife. I’ll do what you want, day … night?” His nostrils flared with emotion as he spoke huskily. “One day, you’ll not need the paper. You’ll love me again. Then I’ll be bound to obey you by the sweetest of chains, and our children? Lovely, powerful. Rich.” I felt like throwing up, but resisted the base instinct.

She was staring at the snake, her eyes hard as winter, but she took the dagger off his throat. “And how will this help us gain the treasure?”

His eyes hardened. He nodded at Iodocus. “You let me work on the bastard for a while, and he’ll sing like a bird,” Decimus grunted. “We’ll drag his ass to the woods, take him with us, and I’ll show him how the Romans do it. He was very proud of Gaul ways of torture, but trust me, those ways are child’s play to what I can do. Oh, we make birds squeak, indeed. He’ll cry for his mother in a matter of minutes.”

“Now, wait a minute—” Iodocus began, but was interrupted.

“You would marry me?” she asked. “Eventually?” There was a driven, mad tinge in her voice that told any sane man it would be very unwise to tangle with her in any way. Marriage the least of them. But Decimus knew what he was doing. All he wanted was Iodocus.

“I’ll kneel before you, let the priests bless us, and we’ll be so happy, love,” he said, and I saw the bastard actually had tears in his eyes.

She nodded, holding a hand across her mouth, moved. “I’ll need a parchment. I know some men in the village who can write. Ink? Yes, ink. I’ll get those, love. Then you’ll write, I’ll hide it. We have hours to spare. They are still chasing the Marcomanni up there and across the land. Some of the enemy came back to get the standard of Fulch, and its chaos. Seisyll’s not seen. They won’t change the guard for a long time.”

“Yes, my love,” he said gently. “Be back soon. Ink, parchment, and then, love?”

She nodded, hesitated, and kissed the bastard hard. Then she got up, scowled at me, squinted at the shadow of Leuthard, and kicked Iodocus. She left, laughing like a madwoman she was. The door closed, the hatch dropped into place.

Decimus leaned back, smiling. “Sorry about that boys.”

“You snake—” I began.

He laughed harshly. “I’ll slither out of here. Sorry. That’s the way it is. And if you, Iodocus, will not speak, I’ll just have the whole hill dug up.”

“You get the your dolobara ready then, you womanizing, rat-spawned traitor,” Iodocus hissed. “I’ll not tell you anything.”

The door opened.

Elisedd was there, and Decimus’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “What did you forget, love?”

“Your
love
,” said Danr, the man I had first met when I arrived at Hard Hill, the man whose daughter I had saved from Helm, stood over her shoulder, grinning, “is with her husband.” She pushed the woman inside, and she fell on her face, her head twisted crazily to the side.

Danr grinned at me. “She tried to scream. Had no choice. Adalwulf! A bit tied up, are we? Let me deal with that.” I could have cried. He was my sole insurance, and he had not let me down. He stepped in. “I see you got him?” he said, eyeing Leuthard as he cut my bonds. “Saw the fight, though I was too late to do anything. Been living in a village not far from here.”

“We got him,” I growled, and then smiled at him. “You did well.”

He chortled. “You did well to trust me,” he grinned with deep self-satisfaction. “It’s been hard following you around, but since I’m one of the better hunters on the hill, not too hard. I smell like shit after skulking in the woods for a week, but it’s been interesting.” His eyes flashed at the champion, and he looked down at me as he whispered, “Can you handle him?”

“We must,” I answered.

Iodocus looked hurt. “You didn’t trust
me
enough to tell of this one? That you had a man out there?”

“Not back then,” I said simply, and pointed at Iodocus. “Cut him loose, Danr,” I told him, and smiled at Iodocus. “Today, I’d trust you with my life.”

“And him?” Danr said, and thumbed Decimus. “I heard him. Cut his tendons?”

I saw Decimus go white from face, and I leaned on him. “You wanted to leave me here with Leuthard? Didn’t you? You wait here as I go up and figure out what’s to be done with you. Think of a charming line, my friend. I’ll be back.”

I crouched next to Iodocus, and took the dagger from Danr. “Where did you hide the coins?”

His eyes glinted. “I buried them in Elisedd’s husbands shack. In the corner, under a stool where he holds his tools. It was appropriate, somehow.”

I turned to look at Leuthard, who had been waiting for me to address him. He spoke simply. “I won’t tell you a thing.”

I grinned. “You will. You’ll see. I won’t have to touch you, even.”

I hoped I was right. I had another plan. It might tame a beast.

D
anr and I walked up to the destroyed wall, carefully sneaking from shadow to shadow, but there were no guards at the gate. One man, lax in his duty, was holding his head, sitting nearby on a bench. He was vomiting, having failed to stomach the losses and the terrible sights of the night. My friend pulled at my shoulder, and led me through the gate to the maze of halls and houses, we made our way to Elisedd’s house. There, in the shed, we discovered the clinking sack. His eyes were round as we lifted it.

I held it towards him. “What’s this, then?” he asked, confused.

“You’ll leave,” I told him simply.

“What!” he asked, confused. “You have Leuthard in there. You have a quest to reclaim a blade. How will you survive with that one Gaul alone to help you?”

I clasped his shoulder. “Make your way back home. Tell Balderich what’s going on, and send Hulderic word I have Leuthard. And that I’ll try my best.”

He looked shocked. “You’ll need help with
him
. Probably can’t even drag him into the woods,” he said dubiously. “That Celt’s thin as a stick.”

I grinned. “Let me deal with him. You take these,” I said and winked, “keep some for yourself, and do this for me. Give them to Balderich.” He began to argue, but I shook my head. “If I fail, Leuthard’s going to come back. Perhaps you should travel to Hulderic with your family. He’ll have you, never fear.”

He massaged his shoulders, undecided, but relented. “I suppose the hunting’s good there, in the east. But I should really help you. You saved my daughter.”

“You saved me,” I said gratefully, and clasped his shoulder. “Take some treasure for yourself. I insist.”

He grinned and nodded. “As you asked. I shall. Good luck. I’ll pray for you. Don’t worry, I can avoid trouble, but try to do the same, eh. See you when I see you.” He handed me a dagger, and I took it gratefully.

“Listen,” I told him. “If I succeed with what I’ll do next, then you’ll wait for a man outside the village. He’ll make his way to where we crossed over, and you hook up with him. Guard him. Help him along. Make sure none stop you.”

“You have something more to do here?” he asked dubiously.

“Oh yes,” I smiled. “It makes all the difference for the cause.”

“A man,” he breathed. “Will I know the man?”

“The Gaul,” I laughed and his eyes rounded. “Wait for him. If he doesn’t appear, then go alone.”

He shook his head. “I don’t expect I’ll see you again. Your plan had better be a sound one. Fine, you mad man. I’ll help him, though running around stealthily with a sack of clinking treasure will not be very stealthy,” he told me with nervous humor. He looked out of the shed, and nodded. “Go now. Clear.”

I smiled at him bravely, and left the hut, hoping Danr could indeed make his way out of the Sparrow’s Joy. He likely would, considering his skills. And he’d help Iodocus with what I had planned.

The way was clear indeed. Everyone was tending to the wounded, or out warring, gathering the lost and the wounded, and so I made my way for the great hall of Seisyll, which was not that far. There, a tired older woman exited, her face and hands smeared with blood, but missed me totally as I dodged under a low hanging roof. I sneaked forward, looked inside the slightly ajar door, and saw not a soul. I looked around, but nobody was looking my way. I prayed to Woden and entered. The great round hall was empty of men, indeed.

Save for Seisyll.

He was seated on his seat at the end of the hall, holding his face and weeping with pain. I cringed as I saw a glimpse of raw, red flesh glistening in the torch light. Blood and puss was dripping on to his chin, on to his chest, and a pool of it was gathered around the seat. He had lost an eye, skin, and flesh on his forehead and cheek, even part of his chin and lips, and the agony of the wound was driving him into sobbing madness. He retched and threw up weakly to the side. I hesitated as I noticed a body near him, and as Seisyll recovered a bit from his nausea, he cursed the corpse of Teutorigos. The man's hammer, or what had been given to me, was placed across his chest, and at that, I no longer hesitated.

I strode forward, kept to the shadowy part of the hall, and Seisyll turned, shocked, blinking with his one good eye, filled with tears. I pulled the dagger Danr had given me.

“What is it? Did you catch the Marcomanni? Are there more coming?” he gasped.

“There are more coming,” I told him urgently as I walked closer to him. “Hundred more crossed the river and are here soon,” I said, my Celtic clipped and broken, but it was authentic enough to tear him out of his seat, a look of horror on his face.

“Recall the nobles, and get our men ready,” he gasped and took a step forward.

I stepped out of the shadows.

His eye squinted with confusion as he tottered forward, shocked to see me.

I stepped close to support him, and the dagger flashed and sunk into his chest. His eye rounded with the shock and pain, he tried to scream, but I grunted with the effort as I wrestled him back to his bloody seat, twisting the dagger. “It’s better this way, Seisyll. Much better. You’d die anyway. And you
did
betray us.”

He didn’t agree as he groped at the hilt of the dagger and my wrist, hissing weak threats, but the struggle didn’t last for long. He went still, his eye open but lifeless. I ripped the dagger out, and stooped low and grabbed the hammer. I hesitated, as the dead hand of Teutorigos was holding it, but I wrenched it from his cold grip. God Cerunnos took offence at that, as the woman returned right that moment. She dodged in, carrying fresh bandages. I lifted the hammer in surprise, and she put a hand over her mouth.

I hesitated.

She fled, gasping.

I cursed my luck, and kicked around the house. I charged around the hall like a storm, pushing over chairs and tables. I had to find something, something that would make all the difference in my quest to find Hulderic’s sword.

Then I saw it.

Another sword. It was at the feet of Teutorigos, partly under his legs. It was a dark, long sword, thick, brutal and ancient, and I knew it was the Feud Settler. I rushed forward, grabbing it and the thick belt draped around it. I kicked Teutorigos’s legs out of the way, and I threw the sword across my back. Then I rushed for the door and dodged, as a man surged in, spear first. He was bewildered, ready to fight, but not ready enough as he caught my hammer in his chest. The man fell down like a log, gasping. I cursed, burst back into the room, kicked at the fiery wood in the fire pit, scattering burning timber across the beds and the hay, and surged out. The woman was there, wringing her hands and without thinking, feeling wretched by the necessity, I struck her so hard she fell down and didn’t get up.

I surged out of the compound, and found my way down to the cellar.