Adalwulf: The Two Swords (Tales of Germania Book 1) (34 page)

But now, it was my turn to lie.

They both looked at me. Leuthard’s eyes were glinting, there was a small smile at the edge of his mouth, and he knew I knew everything about him. He watched me, tried to see how revolted, how afraid I was. His eyes wondered to the sack, and he lifted an eyebrow. “Found your family, and the truth of the woman?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, and mounted my horse.

“How does it taste like?” he chuckled. “You savor it?”

“We have a date, Leuthard,” I told him dully. “All will be made clear then.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “It is well.”

I didn’t look at him, but at Decimus. “Avenc. That’s where we go.”

“Oh, I know it. My tower is—”

“There?” I interrupted.

He frowned. “No, this is north of mine,” he said, and scowled. “I know the centurion though. Very well, yes.”

Relative?
I thought.
Another Caecina?

“Did the man say anything else? Who’s the target?” Decimus asked. “This is excellent. Nothing could have gone better. The commander will believe me. We have—”

“Tiberius,” I told him. He lifted his fist to the air, a happy man, dreaming of a high promotion and wealth.
But it was all an act, wasn’t it?
I pointed a finger at Leuthard. “Take us there.”

Leuthard smiled. “You are a different Adalwulf from who went in. Sadder, not so young.”’

“I’ll burn you, Leuthard. I’ll purge the Brethren, if it kills me,” I said as steadily as I could. “And I’ll kill you, and I don’t care if it takes my life.”

His eyes answered.
It will.

W
e rode to the night, and I felt both dangerous men behind me. The lines of the old man thrummed in my head.
Three fates shall entwine,
I thought. Leuthard and I, certainly. I gazed at Decimus and Leuthard as they sat on their horses. The Roman was silent, probably calculating how to keep up the act, thinking I had been fooled. I snorted.
He’d be surprised.
Leuthard, indestructible, was looking around the forest roads like he belonged there.

Raganthar, the husband of Gisil
. He was the third man in the old man’s riddle.

We all had a date with fate, and I’d cheat them to their graves.

I let tears fall, as I navigated the paths. My belly was rumbling with hunger, I felt weak for the lack of water, but the thought of Gisil’s spear in my back, her betrayal, all for the child who was no more than a skeleton. I felt the bag on my side, hitting my thigh, and there, also, was my cousin. I felt Leuthard’s eyes on my back, and I sat straight, as high as I could, as I hated the man and his Brethren.

“What’s in the bag?” the Roman asked.

Leuthard answered with a dark chuckle. “His cousin. And the cause of his tears.”

“What will you do with them?” Decimus asked at length. He was nodding at the bag.

“The … remains?” I asked.
“
The ones they corrupted and left uneaten?”

Decimus went silent, shocked and silent for once.

Leuthard spoke, like darkness itself. “So afraid you are, lamb. So scared. Have you ever been hungry, Chatti? And I don’t mean like you are now, having missed a few meals, but hungry after weeks of survival in the wild. It was so when I left the north. I travelled the land, I did. I was shunned, and hunted by the Gauls, and even my own sent men after me. Guthbert, my brother, tried to find me. Here, I captured my first lamb. He was much like you, and I was young. It was a mess. But I learnt. It drives away the thirst, the hunger, Chatti. It is fulfilling, mad, and you’ll never forget it. Eating your enemy.”

I didn’t say anything. Decimus was guiding his horse closer to me.

Leuthard went on, speaking almost gently. “I ate him. I had killed back home, oh, I had. So had Father. And others in the family. But there, we never ate them. In home, I was less skillful in hiding my hunt than Father, and was caught, and sent away with a feud over my head, but here there were no feuds. Here there were only the hunters and the hunted. When Ear and Raganthar felt the stirrings back home, their Father brought them here. And being afflicted himself, he stayed. He wasn’t in a cage when I ruled them.” He chortled. “Such a terrible thing men think it. Eating a man. It is not. They say it’s only flesh after they are gone. That it doesn’t matter.”

“My cousin matters,” I snarled. “He matters.”

He clucked his tongue. “You interrupted me. They say the dead are not men. Just flesh, just bones, joints, blood. But they
are
still people, boy. Some part of them linger on, and even when you carve their flesh off their bones, they still see, feel, and know the part of the prey, even if they nap in Hel’s lap. Your cousin did. Perhaps he still feels the pain, though perhaps he
is
a bit relieved in your clutches, smiling a sad, dry, grateful smile. I’ve seen them smile, you know. I’ve seen them sit up.”

“Shut up!” I roared, and he did, gloating under his heavy brow. “I’m not going to listen to your madness Leuthard. You are a mad dog. It’s plain as nose on face.” I pointed a finger at the bag. “Did you help kill him?”

He grunted, and leered at me maliciously. “Why? Does it truly matter? You remember I told them not to kill another in Hard Hill, so I didn’t feast on him. But, yes, I knew he would die, one day. The fact is he was just another little lamb like you, and he was torn apart in Hard Hill, and the rest ended up in that cave. Did you love him?”

I gripped the hammer so hard it hurt. “I didn’t hate him.”

“He loved you,” Leuthard said darkly. “Rode through the troubled land to find you, to bring you back. A thief you are, Adalwulf, but also the bane of those who care for you.”

Decimus spurred next to me. He pointed a finger up to a road that forked in the dark. “That way. And best stop talking to him now.”

We rode in silence until I heard the gurgle of a river. I guided the horse that way, and found a rocky, high bank of a fair-sized river, which was makings its way for Rhenus River, somewhere in the east. I grasped the bag, and sat there, and gave Woden a prayer, and let the remains fall to the water. They fell true, twirled in the dark water, and travelled away, under and over the surface. I turned my horse back, and rode up to the two men.

Leuthard smiled. “That won’t set Gisil free, you know.”

“It will set her free of your cousin,” I spat. “The rest is up to her.” He smiled and shrugged and let me ride past him.

We rode on, broke out of the woods, and reached a strange, level surface set with stones. Decimus grinned. “This is a road. A real military road. And the road takes to Moganticum, but will stop in the villages and guard towers on the way,” Decimus said and continued slyly. “So Tiberius will be in that village? I knew he was coming to some of the towers, but not mine.”

I grunted. “There is a Roman garrison in that town. And we shall have to be careful.”

“Oh, we shall be,” he said earnestly and I hated his lies nearly as much as I hated Leuthard.

“This Lollius shall be there as well,” I confirmed, looking at him. He was a superb thief and a liar, and kept a straight face. “Your Tiberius is supposed to spend a night or two there after he leaves for Moganticum. He is hearing local chiefs vent their spleen and deciding on some matters of importance.”

Decimus’s eyes glinted. “I’ll be the hero, who brings him the news, then. I’ll ride to the tower, torn and bloodied, having escaped the enemy, and bring them the tidings.”

I leaned on him. “You’ll be a bigger hero if we find Raganthar first. And I need the sword.”

He looked unhappy and fidgeted. “I would be lax in my duty should it come to pass that Tiberius is in danger.”

Was he trying to reach his men? To kill us quietly?

I snorted. “You’d be in hot water if the truth about your lost men came to be known. Don’t ride anywhere. First, we find Raganthar. Together.”

He spat, frowning, and cursed, until he finally shrugged. “No need to be so hostile, friend. We’ll see what’s what in there, and hopefully find a way to accomplish much. As long as you find a rusty sword, and I’m happily paraded as a hero, I’ll help. He glanced behind him to Leuthard. “Perhaps he gets a nice meal as well.”

“How many men there?” Leuthard asked, as if cheered by a prospect of a meal.

“There is a guard tower there with a century of men. That’s all,” Decimus said. “How would this filthy Raganthar know Tiberius would stop there?”

“They have spies,” I said neutrally, and still didn’t mention the centurion or King Vago, who had ways into the officia of any high Roman. Kings were rich. “They’ll be there for a day or two.”

“I have a hunch you learned something more in there, eh?” Decimus said nervously, and I kicked the horse off at a canter. “We are riding in blind.”

“Only this, nothing more,” I lied.

A fox ran past us, rushed for the road, and dashed towards Moganticum, until it disappeared to the night, and I guided my horse onward. I took the fox to be a good sign, and hoped what I had planned would work out. The horse seemed genuinely confused by the hard surface, and Leuthard was actually riding next to the road.

We made our uncomfortable way towards the Mediomactri village.

***

When we arrived, it was clear it would be hard to find Raganthar and his Brethren. 

The village was larger than I had expected, packed with people. People slept on the fields around it, and there were a hundred horses corralled at the edge. The buildings were nothing like they had been in Sparrow’s Joy, in Seisyll’s village. These were halls, some were the round huts, but all were dirty, some in ill repair, and many sprouted ugly gray smoke to the sky.

There was a hill overlooking the ramshackle Gaul village, and on top, there was a thirty feet tall, sturdy watchtower. Its roof was made of thatch, the palisade around it was at least nine feet tall, and soldier’s bronze and iron helmets glinted at the gate, the walls, and on the top, where there was a railed observation deck, though crudely crafted.

Decimus squinted his eyes as he looked up at the tower. “They are a Vexillation of the Legio XIIII Gemina, from Moganticum. There are few legions in the area now. Most are building, shuffling around, but we have the towers. I’m in the same legion as the boys, but different Cohort, the third. Those boys are from the second.” He fidgeted and slapped his thigh. “I still think I should go up there.”

“No,” I said simply and stared at him until he stopped frowning.

He took a ragged breath. “Well, since I cannot ride up and greet my fellows, I think we need to find a place to plan. We will have to find a tavern. Somewhere to stay. Many people in the village, though. Many more than usually.”

Leuthard spat. “There’s a reason why they are here, and why Tiberius will come as well. It’s the celebration of Lugh, and all kinds of artisans are here. It’s like our Thing, meeting of the tribes during a feast.”

I saw many Gauls in fine armor riding around. We peered down at the village below. There were rich tents, guarded by tall Celts with armor. “What’s the deal with the Treveri and the Mediomactri, anyway?”

Decimus spat. “Old Augustus made Augusta Treverum the capital this past year. While Moganticum will be the capital of Germania Superior, the Treveri are split between the Belgica province and Germania Superior. They are probably begging Tiberius to help keep them a one nation, and not split them all over the place. Some of these are Treveri. And the Mediomactri,” he pointed a practiced finger to other side of the village, “will argue the Treveri in the Germania Superior are trying to steal lands they consider theirs, and combine them to Belgica province. It’s been a mess for a decade. If Tiberius is coming here from Augusta Treverum, it will take days.”

“Days he doesn’t have when he arrives,” I said, and noticed, to my surprise, that Rhenus was quite near, glittering along through a screen of beech trees. I tried to see where we might stay and plot. “Yes, we will have to find a room, somewhere in the edges of the town. Peaceful and quiet.”

“I’ll get us a room, or two,” Leuthard said darkly.

He managed it easily enough. There was a set of large houses near the river bank. As he rode in, a taciturn, strong jawed Gaul appeared, wiping his hands on his tunic. There were horses in the yard, boys taking care of them, but after some quiet words from Leuthard, the man left with a concerned look. Soon, furious Treveri nobles mounted some of the horses, and rode away to find accommodation that was likely not to be had. We settled on a house close to the river, the tavern keeper scowling uncertainly, probably trying to fathom if he would be paid, and there, we settled in. I walked out to find the man, and smiled as I approached him.

“What more do you need?” he asked guardedly. “I’ve got food coming. You want my wife next?”

“Information,” I said. “First, what are the Romans doing on top?”

He smiled deviously. “Why? What they always do. Sit, eat, shit, and keep an eye on us.”

“Who’s their centurion?”

He hesitated. “Why do you need to know that?”

“Shall I get the big bastard to ask this same question?” I retorted.

His face went pale with fear, and he shook his head, while nodding at the boys who were not taking care of our horses to hurry up. “No, I suppose you don’t have to.” He spat, and nodded up the hill to the tower. “But I don’t know his name. They changed the century last week.”

“Changed it?”
So, it wasn’t Decimus?

He shrugged. “I don’t know why. They sometimes do change them. I don’t give orders in their legions. Do I look like one they consult in the movements of their troops? No. He’s like the other centurions, wide and lucky, having survived in their army for so long. He’s also a thief, like the rest. Named Gaius, that’s all I know.”

Gaius Caecina?
That’s what Decimus had called himself in Sparrow’s Joy.

“You’ll have visitors here soon?” I asked him. I glanced at the doorway, and saw Decimus was there, lounging, his eyes on my back.