Adalwulf: The Two Swords (Tales of Germania Book 1) (31 page)

“Any tribes who would want a war with the Marcomanni?”

He nodded. “Likely many local chief hope to see the Marcomanni gone. You saw what happened to Sparrow’s Joy. Mediomactri fear for their lands and cows. Though things have been pretty peaceful lately with your people. That’s just changed though, hasn’t it?” He had a shrewd look on his face. “Then again, it could be something bigger. Perhaps someone isn’t afraid, but greedy. The Vangiones? King Vago hates you lot more than he hates his mother-in-law. Give war, and they can expand their lands, not just keep their cows. They are powerful enough for such plans. There are some other rich lords who could hire these Brethren, though by the looks of their home, they don’t charge much.”

“They prefer the land here,” Leuthard growled. “They prefer hunting grounds to luxury.”

Decimus ignored him. “The legions try to protect those tribes who are furthest along on the road to becoming Romans. Many nobles take the blessing of Rome, and learn Latin, live like we live, build shrines, adopt Roman laws, and ultimately, become citizens. There are many home-born Romans as well. There are many Roman officials, many tribunes who might be a suitable target. Some are Claudii this year, even. Tribunes making their first steps into glory of Senate. Two young men, at least, in our legion. Old families. Well-known, and perhaps even loved. Also, some precious men are not nobles, but would be missed. Some are famous engineers. They will build many castra by Rhenus River,” he said with a sneeze and froze. His face looked shocked. “
They
are touring the land.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

“Who?” I asked him.

He nodded towards Moganticum. “Tiberius, with Lollius the Meek. Tiberius just saved the Aquila of that fool Lollius. Have you heard of the Sigambri business?”

“Yes, I’ve heard of it,” I answered.
Tiberius and Lollius were near?

Decimus’s face looked ashen gray. “That poor Legion. They are
furious
. Wasn’t their fault, but the idiot’s. Lollius the Dolt. It’s a deserved title, be he a governor or not. They are travelling the Lower and Upper Germania, and will be around Moganticum any time.”

“What are they doing?” I asked him.
Yes, they are the targets. One, at least.

Decimus shrugged. “What? Why should I know? They don’t confide in me. They don’t invite me to their parties. I imagine they’ll draw plans for development as they tour the land. Tiberius is giving Lollius hard time, forcing him to pay attention to the mean, small matters. Call it a punishment. A dog is being taught to follow the master. Augustus will probably recall the fool, though he loves him well. Lollius did well in Galatia, but here? No. To lead a legion to battle with no idea where their enemy is? Unheard of. Primus Pilus dead, hundred others? Aquila stolen? Even Augustus cannot endure such ignominy. He’ll let Tiberius humiliate the man, and will call him home eventually, when some time has passed. Lollius will never govern anything again.” He had a thoughtful, greedy look on his face.

Leuthard squinted. “Tiberius and Lollius, eh? Touring the land.”

He had the same idea.

“Surely,” I asked, “the Brethren could not be after Lollius and Tiberius? They would be very well-guarded.”

Decimus smiled slyly, and ambition filled his eyes. You could almost see him slavering for a promotion. “I hope they
are
. Wouldn’t that be splendid? Eh? We have to stop them. Oh, we must!”

We rode in silence, and Sunna was dragged from the sky by the celestial horses, its last rays covering the land with a thin, red blanket. This was when Leuthard grunted, and took to a cluster of trees, pointing a finger to a triangular heap of overgrown rocks miles away, with a long, flowery hillside leading to the door. “That’s it.”

We stared at it. It looked oddly peaceful, not dangerous at all. The birds were singing forlornly, and wind was picking up, still gentle.

“It looks—” I began.

“We rest until the midnight,” he interrupted. “Don’t let the looks deceive you.”

“You say they hunt at night,” I murmured. “So why not go in the morning, or now?”

He mocked me. “You don’t sound like Woden’s hero, Adalwulf. No, we’ll go in during the night. We do so, because I am here. I’m the best hunter of them all. They’ll not doubt me. And even they sleep. Best fight drowsy men.”

“Find some water,” I told Decimus, who shrugged himself into activity, and Leuthard poked his foot at my leg. “What?” I asked.

He sat there, smiling, and I knew he had been waiting for the moment since we rode out. “Remember the man who they killed in Hard Hill before you?” he asked, his eyes glinting maliciously. “The one murder that upset me?”

I felt my belly churning. “Yes. Why?”

He chuckled. “He rode in a few days before you. He was asking for you.”

“I know he was asking for me,” I snarled. “Speak plainly!”

He kept smiling, and I wanted to slay him there for the evil in him. He found joy in my discomfort, like a spider would enjoy the struggles of a fly. “Oh, yes. He was asking after you. By name. Was worried about you, you see. He was a Chatti.”

“I know this! Who was he?”

“Patience,” he smiled. “He’ll be in there.”

“He died, though?” I asked him, confused.

“He’ll be there. He is dead, but you
know
him.”

“Know him? You’ll not tell me who it was?” I asked him. “This Chatti?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said harshly. “Just wanted to prepare you. You’ll learn about Gisil as well. And you will be sad, sadder than ever, and you’ll be sad for the rest of your life, should it be a long one, but I doubt it will be,” Leuthard added, and he was right.

I would be sad, indeed.

W
e slept uneasily, and by midnight, Leuthard kicked us up. “Time to go, my pretties,” he chortled. “Time to fight, and to weep.” We made ready.

The preparations didn’t take long. I forgot my hunger, drank water, and we mounted up. We rode downhill, over a stream, and left our horses by a small pond. We snuck in the night like foxes for the Den, and stayed hidden by bushes and ferns, or under a canopy of low hanging pines. I was anxiously trying to see the place, but Mani was covered during our approach. I saw little but a shadowy hump of rock ahead.

“There are some guards, no?” I asked.

Leuthard nodded and went forward, dodging under some young birches. We came to the lower end of the hill. There was a half-crumbled yard of an old house right before us. Everything was overgrown, moldy, ruined, and the depressing gloom and a promise of rain from an unkind, dark mass of clouds were enough to make us anxious.

“There should be guards, “ Leuthard murmured. “But if there are, they won’t show themselves.”

“No fires,” Decimus said. “Uncanny lot.”

“See,” Leuthard said, and pointed a finger on top of the rocky formation. The night was dark, but you could see air distort there, as heat escaped to the cooler night. “There are people in there, and they have fires going. It’s a cave.”

“How many men does this friend of yours have?” Decimus asked, fingering his spear. “I miss my sword.”

Leuthard shrugged. “We’ll make do. Twenty to thirty, depends on how many have died, or joined him lately. You killed many in the hall of Teutorigos. In there, not more than eight? I’ll handle Ear.”

I finally saw movement. Something walked past a darkness midway up the hill. “The door?” I asked. “It’s there?”

“That’s it. The filthy Den of the Brethren.” He spat. Apparently, he had developed a taste for luxury since he left the lot. “A door and a way down a bit. Slippery, wet, but they take in some horses that way. The cave’s shallow, dry, doesn’t run very far, and moonlight shines in through the roof. They have stables and pens, cellars and armories in there. And prisoners,” Leuthard said grimly. “And we are seeking such prisoners. One in particular.”

“Why? Why not one or two of the men?” Decimus insisted. “What would a dirty prisoner know?”

Leuthard smiled. “It’s a special one. They have a priest,” Leuthard said. “A hermit, mad and dangerous, but he will know
exactly
where to find Raganthar. He will, because Raganthar would never go anywhere without asking him. That’s my uncle, and their father.”

I looked at the Roman, and he looked back at me. “Why,” I finally asked, “is he a prisoner?”

“He is a reluctant one,” Leuthard chortled, and I felt cold chills go down my back.

They keep a relative a prisoner, and still seek his advice.

Leuthard waved his hand up the hill. “He’s not happy, but they ask him for guidance, hoping for Hati to speak through him. He’ll know everything.”

“Ear won’t?” I asked.

“No,” he said simply. “He is a mute.”

We mulled it over for a moment, and saw another shadow pass by the door.

“How will we surprise them?” Decimus asked, squinting to the direction of the rising land. “Is there a backdoor?”

“Of course there is,” Leuthard laughed. “But you cannot use it to enter. We’ll use the front door. I’ll ride in there. They know me, don’t they?”

Wind ruffled the moss on the old walls of the house, and I felt death brushing our cheeks.

“What if they are
all
in there?” Decimus asked. “You ride there, and smile like the little sunshine you are, eh? And then they pour out. Not one or two, but twenty.”

“That’s right. I’ll grin at them like a loving father,” Leuthard confirmed. “And if they are all there, you should probably run. I’ll risk finding Iodocus on my own in the Hard Hill, rather than commit a suicide. But I should be the one to go in first, and that will surprise them to be sure. They fear me.”

“Then, I suppose, you’ll lop off the head of some poor bastard in charge?” Decimus asked.

“Yes, I’ll ask them to fetch their chief,” Leuthard agreed. “It’s some older warrior. Ear won’t do. He is a mute, as I said. And unpredictable.”

And you are not?
I thought.

Decimus wiped his chin and lifted him eyebrow. “And what then?”

“I’ll kill him,” he stated, and then shrugged. “I’ll get their attention, and you’ll rip them apart as they try to kill me. All clear?”

Decimus and I looked at each other.

“Sure,” I said. “But you won’t ride your horse up there.”

“Oh?” he growled.

“Because if they are all in there, we will need time to escape,” I rasped.

“I see,” he chuckled. “As sure as the ale in Valholl is foamy and bitter, some half-breed horses won’t save you if things don’t turn out as you hope they will. Pray the dice will favor you.”

“I don’t like it,” I said.

He snorted. “Or we can always stay here. We can make a little camp, and wait around, hoping for divine inspiration to strike one of us with the knowledge what they are up to. You choose, Adalwulf.”

“Get to it,” I told him thinly. “I’ll play the game.”

The big man peered at me as he adjusted his armor, the fabulous wolf-headed bronze mask in the chest jingling, and grabbed the spear tightly. He walked to the woods to the side of the flowery hillside. I was startled as he did, his abruptness suspicious, but then his face appeared in the shady woods, and he nodded towards the hill. “The Den awaits. Stay behind, but not too far, and observe. Come fast when the time arrives. I’ll hold the door.”

I nodded at the beastly man, and we ran to get our horses. We mounted and took to the thickets, and spotted him, waiting, and guided our horses after him, slowly, hoping not to spook the men on top. The bastard was making his way over mossy boulders and thickets, and our horses picked their way through such tangled braches. Decimus was cursing on his horse before me, pushing through low hanging heap of fir braches, all of which seemed to have a particular liking for his helmet. He finally pushed his head through the greenery, his face flushed. “You think we’ll still breathe in the morning?” Decimus asked, spat, and wiped his face with his hand.

“You’ll survive nearly anything, Roman,” I told him, as I was about to endure the same treatment he had.

“I’m nearly out of lives,” Decimus said. “Had some really bad luck lately. Not only did I lose my gladius, I lost the coins, and—”

“Your men,” I said without humor, and Decimus smiled, knowing he was a bastard.

“And my brave men,” he allowed. “Hope this is worth it.”

“Your men knew they were there to rob, not serve Rome,” I said dryly.

“They knew, of course they did. We, like any Roman garrison, keep the peace, keep an eye on the Gauls, and everyone gets rich while doing it. Not only some of us, but all of us. Its only fair. They used to fight like a pack of dogs before we conquered the land. If we let them grow fat and rich again, they’ll slit our throats one day. No, we strangle their coin out of them.” He gazed ahead at the beastly man, and chuckled as I profusely cursed the firs, which tried to smother me. “Look. No matter what we tried to do to each other—”

“
You
tried to do to
us
,” I corrected him.

He lifted his hand in surrender. “No matter that, I pity you the fight with him, though. It will be terrible fate to die so young.”

“He’s not very young,” I said bravely, and Decimus chuckled throatily, and for a moment, I liked him fine.

I looked at Leuthard walking just at the edge of our sight. He was striding on the edge of the clear space now, through the hilly meadow of flowers, his huge body heaving as he made his way up a small incline, and I knew we would soon be very near the door. “We’ll see who dies. I’m no fool, you know.”

He snorted. “You’re not? A lot of damned trouble for a sword,” Decimus said, spitting out bits of evergreen he had again nearly swallowed. “Though of course it will be interesting to hear what they plan to do. Surely not Tiberius? Or even Lollius? No. Someone else.” He sounded bored. “I’m not going to be lucky enough for it to be Tiberius. How could some barbaric forest-dwellers know where Tiberius shall be? War with the Marcomanni—”

“They have a sponsor. Remember? Someone pays them to kill, and that someone is obviously a person of wealth and power. Someone knows. And that war could destroy the Marcomanni,” I said flatly. “This is important. And Gisil is. Look.”

Up ahead, Leuthard make his way towards the cave entrance. There was indeed a hefty doorway with an expertly crafted, thick door, and three burly men with dark, furry cloaks, who stirred as they spotted Leuthard. The big man raised his hand and greeted the guards, who were glowering at him, hunched, and almost scared. One nudged another, and that one disappeared inside, and the two guards took tentative steps towards the approaching beast. There was a creak, then a thud. The door was closed, likely locked and barred.

We guided our horses to the edge of the hilly meadow and looked up at the door. Leuthard was taking strides up a muddy track now, his spear held loosely in his huge fist, and the men bowed to him. “He was with these … Brethren once?” Decimus asked, worried. “Truly? And they think a god sired them? Some wolf god mounted a girl and out came this bunch of rascals? He wasn’t just trying to scare us, right?”

“I’ve seen him fight. And more. He kills and enjoys it, and not like we would, eagerly waiting for the honor and rewards from our lord. He does it for the pleasure. He’s killed a friend of mine. See how they fawn on him,” I said, gesturing to the men who took care not to offend the huge man in any way, their heads bowed, but their spears were also pointed in his general direction. “They respect him, but also fear him.”

Decimus grunted. “Let’s hope they all die of fright, and we can just walk in.”

“Let us,” I agreed, but then Leuthard was next to the men, apparently speaking animatedly, his hands sweeping around, and it looked like he was describing our presence to them, since one man looked over his shoulder. “Shit, is he betraying us—”

But he wasn’t.

The door opened, and eight men streamed out. One was shorter than the rest, and a warrior with white locks of hair running to mid-thigh. He was wearing ring mail, held a sword, a hasta of crude make, and seemed to have a perpetual scowl on his face. The other men looked on, all careful, bearded beasts. Some were hurt, with bandages, and I was sure I had seen some of them in the battle of the hall. Leuthard’s hand went up, and he beaconed for us.

We didn’t move, but looked at each other.

He snapped his finger, it could be heard all the way over the hilly meadow, and I saw his face was brutally distorted, his scowl such as he had before a battle. “I don’t think the enemy lord and his best men are there, only those men,” I whispered. “He wants us to go in.”

Decimus spat. “I bet the doorway hides at least a dozen rogues and that Raganthar lord as well, snickering as we ride forward.”

“I’ll go, you can stay,” I said heavily, and hid my hammer under my thigh. “Come if you will, or go. I’m here to stop a war.”

“I’m here to be rich,” he said. “Jupiter’s left ball, I’m coming. Didn’t I already throw that spear when we were outnumbered so heavily? This is child’s play.”

I made my way to the meadow, and the warriors with Leuthard stiffened. The beast was speaking to the leader, and I wasn’t sure what he told them, but it was alarming, because they moved to block our way on the hill, looking at us with deep hostility. I heard horse hooves behind me, and knew Decimus was there, and I looked over my shoulder to see the Roman had hidden his armor under a cloak and taken off his helmet, his hair plastered on his head. He did look Roman, short and his skin darker, and as the Mani peeked through a break in the heavy banks of clouds, the enemy would know us very soon.

I tried to calm myself. Leuthard would do what he did best. Slay with treachery.

Unless Leuthard had really betrayed us.

We got closer. The horses sensed the strangeness of the situation, and were whinnying gently, their ears going up and down. The chief of the enemy took some steps down the hill, stopping near his men. His eyes went over me, and I lifted my leg to hide the shaft of the hammer, in case he might recognize it. He looked at Decimus, and it was then he frowned. He took an uncertain step forward, holding the sword’s hilt tightly, and turned to question Leuthard.