Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

I turned my eyes to Maino. He stared back at me, and I was gratified to see he was not brimming with confidence. His eyes glowed and danced with the fire that reflected from the former pyre behind me. He sweated, he trembled, and he looked anxious as a small girl. Even the bravest fear, no matter if they face a worm or a real man and Maino was not certain what I was, despite his arrogant posturing. He remembered me from the battle, and I had not been a weakling then, and he knew it.

The baldheaded vitka appeared and danced between us, and I cursed profusely under my breath as his feet stomped the ground. He was whooping, praying and cursing and he squinted at the sky, as if trying to fathom if the wolves chasing Mani across the sky would give the fight their gracious attention. A bank of clouds filled the sky and I chuckled as the vitka’s face turned into a confused frown. He stopped dancing, standing over a tall tuft of grass in the otherwise pristine field, and called out. ‘Gods will see, gods will hear and let them judge the unworthy one fairly. Donor bless this fight, may Woden give your spears speed and Freya, the Red Lady fill your hearts with savagery. Fight, fight!’

‘Father?’ Maino asked gutturally.

‘Try not to kill your cousin,’ Bero said softly. ‘But beat him to mud for your honor.’ His voice betrayed his fear Maino would not oblige and try to kill me. Or that he would fail.

‘I wish the same,’ Hulderic said, even if most of the villagers quaffed. Dubbe, and Sigmundr swelled at the indignity and disrespect they gave me, but I did not care. Harmod, the wisest of Father’s men, shook his head at me, and his eyes scourged the battlefield, and a small smile lit up his face. I looked away from him, but I was sure he had figured out what surprise I had planned to make Maino’s evening painful and shameful.

I pointed my spear at Maino. ‘The loser will forget the Svea girl for good. That one shall marry the winner of this fight.’

‘That,’ Bero called out heavily, ‘is a bigger issue than the animosity between two idiots. It concerns
all
the Goths.’

‘At least,’ I said darkly, ‘the loser shall not marry her.’

‘Say yes, Father,’ Maino growled, hefting his shield. He had a brutal-looking club with iron studs on his belt. I was sure it had been especially designed to be used on my back and ribs after he had me down.

‘Fine,’ Bero said suspiciously, eyeing me and wondering at my request. ‘Begin.’

‘Begin,’ Hrolf yelled, stealing Bero’s authority, but it worked.

People thrummed their spears on the shields, and a terrible noise filled the night. It was a blood curdling, exhilarating, dreadful, and savage sound. I felt Friednot, Grandfather standing in the former pyre behind me, looking at me with approval, though he had loved Bero and Maino best, but he would not spit on a brave man and I was just that. I begged for his help and then Maino roared. His eyes stood in his head, whites shining. He was raging, spitting and dancing back and forth, the framea held high, overhand. Some berserkers get their rage from such rituals, like awakening hunger with the smell of roasted meat, the rage can be forced. Some come to it naturally, when threatened, and yet others, only pretend. Maino was one who could enrage himself into it. Despite the fearful display, I snorted.
He makes even himself mad,
I thought and laughed aloud, which infuriated him even more. He squatted behind his shield, his eyes glinting at me with feral intensity, like a bull boar getting ready to charge from the underbrush against a weak, wounded intruder. I saw him snort, snot flying and I braced myself, aiming my hasta his way, bending my knees and lifting the shield I took a step forward. ‘Come, Maino, and let me piss on your yellow teeth as you gasp for breath.’

He bellowed. He charged. He was fast as
only a berserker
can be, his legs stomping the ground with anger. In his expression, I read a resolute wish to plant a foot on my face. He pounded across and his spear came at me with terrible speed. I whirled out of the way, threw up the shield and cursed, as he had thrust down deceitfully fast and I felt his framea’s tip tear a shallow wound on my thigh. I yelped and he laughed like a spirit made of hate, a dark shadow creature of the fogs of Helheim. He roared and yapped like a dog, and I gritted my teeth as his shield slammed so fast into mine, so powerfully I had to take a hasty step back. I kept glancing at the dust and the mud, and tried to draw the beast after me. He came willingly, the spear stabbing again and again, reaping ribbons from my shield, and my hasta had not made a single strike against him yet as I staggered away from his relentless attacks. Then he charged low, his shield high and the spear rushed from under the rim for my gut. I heard Hulderic draw in a terrified breath, a scream of horror from the people around me as the spear entangled in my pants. I kicked back, ripping the pants and cursed him. He was not trying to spare me, not at all. He laughed gutturally, and slammed the shield at me again, then again and I decided I’d have to play on his overconfidence. He came at me, not expecting me to do anything more than wither away, but instead I pushed back with all I had and staggered him and he fell on his knee. My spear stabbed from high, I spat my defiance at his shocked face and the spear scraped his helmet, but he was ferociously pushing up and I fell away, taking hasty steps back. He jumped after me
like a
ferocious evil squirrel and I again pushed back and punched my spear to meet him. I was lucky. While the weapon went through his shield near the upper rim and trapped it, it was like it had been in the battle. I could push through the leather and score a hit. I had a moment and I roared and pushed forward amidst screams of surprise and Maino screamed in pain as his shoulder took a wound and not even the chain mail could stop the blade from bleeding him. Dubbe was bellowing encouragements to me, Danr and Eadwine were hollering like madmen and only Hughnot’s evil looking group stayed quiet, frowning at the terrible battle.

He trapped my spear under his armpit and slapped his spear-clutching fist at my head and I saw darkness, as I tottered back, reeled and cursed, as I lost my spear.

‘Eat mud, cousin! I’ll leave you a weeping girl, I’ll geld you and your father will watch,’ he screamed, enraged as he eyed the blood on his shoulder and indeed he almost did geld me as he slapped my shield aside and stabbed his swift framea between my legs. I rolled away. I rolled again, feeling the spear slash the air above me, felt a heavy kick in my rear and fell on my face. I twisted to face him, and grabbed at the figure of hate above me, and clutched his balls before the shield that was coming down could beat my face into a shape I’d not recognize. I squeezed as hard as I could and he meowed like a kitten.

‘Not much use with the girl, eh? I’ll make breakfast out of them. Good with lentils, no?’ I hollered angrily, and pulled so hard he fell over me, his eyes pools of pain. He did not let go of his shield and it came down hard on my chest and part slid to my throat. I gagged, cursed and bit my tongue and struck the leering face above me. His spear was hovering, the tip inching for my face, far too close now and I yanked him over and under me, his framea breaking. I slammed my fist in his face, splitting his lip totally, and he slapped me off like a bear would, an overhanded swipe of pure ferociousness. He was getting on his feet, and there was no sign of human kindness in his furious face and I staggered to the side. I pulled the ax and he pulled his club and walked for me, like a buck moose out to trample a weak competitor. Then he ran and I prayed for gods as I maneuvered to put the lonely tuft of grass between him and me.

‘Cousin! I’ll have none in a bit!’ he screamed, rushed shield first and got to me. He stepped on the tuft of grass as his hand went up and I readied my shield.

The ground gave away, revealing the hole Aldbert had hastily dug up and camouflaged.

Maino’s eyes betrayed his shock as he dropped knee-deep into the hole and fell forward while trying instinctively to stop the fall from breaking his legs. He yelled from pain as he twisted, mud was flying and my ax came down. I saw Bero’s face, shocked, people shrieking, Father’s relief, and then a frown as he considered the hole. The ax hacked down from high,
and a bit
of leather helmet flew to the side, along with a piece of my cousin’s ear. He screamed, let go of his shield and while the whole village was yelling encouragements with shocked, terrified and elated voices, I kicked the squirming mass of Maino. I kicked and kicked it until I hit his jaw and those once so terrifying eyes rolled in his head, the whites showing as he fell to his back. I stood over him, breathing hard, aching all over, and Bero took a hesitant step forward and then another. He walked
to me, with a pleading
look on his face, and began to pull Maino away.

I growled like an animal and pushed him so he fell back. Silence reigned, and even Hughnot’s all-knowing eyes were incredulous at what I had done. ‘He is still mine,’ I  hissed. ‘Still mine! You’ll not touch him until I say so, you rot-tit bastard. I’ll release him when I’m done gnawing at his bones.’

‘Do
not
make an enemy out of me, nephew,’ Bero hissed. ‘Do not!’

I laughed and bent down. I grasped Maino’s braided beard and put the ax blade against his throat. ‘Maroboodus!’ Hulderic said sternly. ‘Do not.’

I looked up at Bero, grinned, and cut. In silence, I pulled away the cut beard of Maino. I placed it on my smooth cut
chin, and pranced around like a mad man, mimicking my foe and finally threw the beard away to the pyre, where it sizzled and burned
. I grasped his shield and broken spear, threw them after it and stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the hundreds of people.

Bero was trembling with rage. He pointed a finger my way. ‘For that, Maroboodus, you are not welcome in this village. There was no honor in that.’

‘There is no honor in that pig-husk of a lord,’ I laughed and pointed my ax at the beaten man. ‘None.’

‘He
shall
marry Snow-Flower,’ Bero said viciously as his men came to carry Maino away. ‘The promise not to marry her to the loser was given in good faith. Such holes do not appear out of the dark.’

‘That one did,’ I hissed. ‘I begged it from the gods, I asked them to eat the villain, to hurt him as he deserved, for me. And they listened.’ I’m not sure what went over me. I felt invincible, and my chest was heaving
with a joy I had
never felt before. ‘Such dogs should not champion the Goths. I will. I’ll give this land such war it has never imagined.’ People were whispering now, hissing and giving me long looks. Hulderic’s face was grave. He was not relieved by my victory, but apparently he was thinking hard on the words I had uttered.

Bero stood forward and eyed Hughnot. ‘And no. Your son will not rule here. There will be no discussions tomorrow, no decisions. I’ll make sure we will remain as one here in the south gau, Hughnot. Join us or fight alone. Take your men in the morning and leave, if you will break our alliance. Go over the Long-Lake and rot. And if someone,’ he said, for once showing vicious strength, ‘would join you, there will be a hall-burning here.’

Hughnot nodded heavily. ‘I will give it thought this evening.’

His eyes sought mine.

I
sat on the beach that night. I bled from the wounds that had been stitched by a slave in Bero’s household, a man with deft fingers, and no doubt sent by Hulderic. Finally, Hulderic came to sit next to me. He sighed and looked over the lapping waves as the celebration in the village reached the stage where most men were roaring drunk. He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Congratulations.’

‘I did well, didn’t I?’ I asked him, sure I had failed after all.

‘Aldbert isn’t one to dig holes, is he?’ he asked. ‘But he did well at it. Harmod spotted the—‘

‘Aldbert was on
my
side,’ I told him simply. ‘And here I am, alive. And Maino’s ugly. Or more so.’ I laughed.

‘And some of the people respect you for the trickery,’ he agreed, not saying whether he did or not. ‘Though not all. Not by far.’

Respect. The stuff of songs. Fame. ‘Bero’s accusations—‘

‘Ring true. And now we have to deal with Hughnot. My brother has made blunders one after another, and we have to tough it out now. Hughnot will be very unhappy this night.’

‘I can understand him,’ I said sullenly.

Hulderic glanced at me with an amused grin. ‘Just because he supported you, doesn’t make him your friend. Yes, you think we should, we could actually find our own roads, better ones, those that suit our family better than this arrangement I have stubbornly been so damned keen on upholding. You think we should start looking at other Goths to ally with. And yes, you think my brother will not make a good enough leader to see us through a war with Hughnot.’

‘You might, Father—‘

‘Might?’ he mused with a smile. ‘No.’

‘No what?’

‘I know he is a terrible leader, Maroboodus. He does well, if someone else is at the rudder, he is a good warlord, but a bad Thiuda. But I cannot break—‘

‘He will see us in gravemounds,’ I insisted.

He turned my face to him. ‘I
promised
Mother I would not fight my own brother,’ he said sadly. ‘And I also promised her I would not ally with Hughnot. If that is what you want? He did take your side, didn’t he?’

‘Hrolf seems like a coming man,’ I told him softly. ‘He has bullsized balls where Bero’s are in his mouth.’

‘Bull’s balls will not make a Black Goth our leader, but tempered intelligence,’ he laughed and sobered. ‘We have spoken on this before, and will not again. You will travel, boy. What you spoke in front of everyone, that shit pompous speech about brining war to the land made it damn clear that you are one of the few cursed men in our family who would risk anything to get what he desires. So you will travel. Far. As far as you can. I will have men take you south, over the sea, beyond the glittering southern rivers and then further where the mountains split the land and a rolling river runs from east to west. There you will make your own life, if not further. Make a life, build a kingdom there, boy, if you can, and be happy. And this is a favor to you, a curse for me, as I will miss you.’

I sat there, chewing his words as if he had stuffed a fistful of rocks into my mouth. ‘I’ll miss you.’

He grunted affectionately and squeezed my shoulder. ‘And still I don’t know if I’m doing Midgard an ill favor by sparing your rebellious hide.’

I nodded and tried to ignore the fear and pain of his words. ‘So be it.’

‘You’ll leave when we go back to Timberscar,’ he told me with a subdued voice. ‘Best not see your grandmother. She might disagree with my mercy.’

‘I am your son,’ I told him. ‘And all I wanted was to stand strong when a pig-looking bully tried to take my honor and more. Yes, I wanted the girl. Still do. And I think you should break your promise to Grandmother, as it will never work out with Bero. Hughnot’s way sounds far saner, a better one for all of us. He makes sensible plans, Bero is a weakling. But I will obey you, Father, and wish you luck with them. Hughnot won’t back down any less than I did.’

He measured me with his eyes. ‘If he does not, then he will have to fall.’ He looked to the cold bay, and somewhere, a gull shrieked in the night, forlornly. ‘It will be a terrible war, if he won’t bend his knee. And I agree. He won’t. He might not do anything now, or this winter, or this night. He’ll go home and seethe like an insulted woman.’ He ruffled my hair. ‘And Bero is not hopeless, it takes him time to make his plans, but they are sound ones. Trust me. And I will miss you, you will miss me and that cannot be helped,’ Hulderic said. ‘You try to learn patience, to respect the gods, our family burden. And to amuse you, I’ll marry again, as you suggested, and have other sons, but you will always be my precious boy. You will not go away poor.’

‘Tomorrow then?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he said sadly and got up. Dubbe nodded at me respectfully from the shadows and Hulderic walked away with him.

So I sat there, eyeing my ax and felt the unjust decisions gnaw at me. It didn’t matter, I would leave one way or the other, but I gnashed my teeth and cursed loudly, bitterly and in the end, to my surprise, wept like a fool. I turned to look at the charred skeleton, lying amidst the ruins of the fire, waiting to be covered with a mound. The skull was there, plain to see, blackened and it was smoldering. Then, suddenly, under it some twigs burned brightly, and the thing looked deadly, uncanny, unnatural, and the burning twigs curled around the skull. It looked like a fiery crown. I felt cold shivers go up an down my back. Aldbert’s words had spoken of twigs and a skull, and was this it? Yes, perhaps. Was this a special moment, holy and dangerous? Related to the Bear, somehow? Was I to choose or do something that might change the course of our history?

No, of course not
, I thought and wiped away my tears.

I spoke to it. ‘Well, since you are there, oh spirit, tell me this. Am I to accept his decision? Father’s?’ I knew the answer already, as I would go and attempt my dangerous plan, but I was still startled when I got an answer.

‘No,’ said a voice and I scuttled back in breathless panic and sat in pool of seawater. I squinted at the bones, but Friednot was dead indeed and there was nobody there, no sorrowful spirit, no husk of lifeless flesh staring down at me in the night. But there was a large shadow walking for me from the side.

Hughnot.

I gathered myself and got up to stand to face him. He had been listening in the shadows, observing me, and so, he had heard me praise him to Father. He looked dark and menacing and his wise eyes looked at the ax on my belt, as if wondering if he was in any danger. Hrolf and the twins were not far in the night, I was sure and also felt unsafe as I knew their eyes looked at me, and perhaps they had bows and javelins. Hughnot stopped before me. He hesitated and spoke. ‘You should not accept it. I know you won’t, but there it is. I agree with you, Maroboodus.’

‘You do?’ I asked with a nervous smile. ‘And you are thinking about my best interests, with no bone in this dog fight eh? Why do you care?’

‘Oh, I do have a bone in this fight and I have fewer dogs on my side, Maroboodus. Don’t be sarcastic,’ he said with a scowl. ‘Perhaps I’m like you. Perhaps I do think you shouldn’t suffer for the damned prophecy and the old gods and their squabbles. I hate the stupid old beliefs of our family, all tied to the ring and mysterious Bears and perilous Ravens and such. Your grandmother was bred on such stories, and when she married to this family, she always worried about giving birth to an ill-omened one. Our grandfather infected us with such nonsense. The Boat-Lord, he believes in it, and now your father, who did surprise me with his words today, by the way, is a fool to let go of a son like you because of our old oaths to gods and vitka who somehow see visions of the danger. You are a hardheaded bastard, but also a keen-seeing, sane man, because you see Bero as a fool and I have no idea why your father would do this to you.’ He smiled and bowed. ‘And I thank you for your kind words, even if I did eavesdrop. But I must, since Bero and your father would deny me the right to lead. I regret your father isn’t going to see the good sense of letting our family work together as it was meant to. If he were on my side, Bero would be made a housekeeper of Bone-Hall. Hope Woden is merciful to Bero, my boy, because I won’t be. He is kin, but not kin enough in spirit.’

‘Father is merciful. He is not giving me to be sacrificed, after all,’ I said with a wry smile.

He laughed and nodded. ‘Generous of him.’ Hughnot stopped speaking for a moment and leaned forward. ‘But I know you care for him. Your father.’

I hesitated and then spoke the truth. ‘All I wanted for our family, his and mine, was to take our rightful place. Friednot should not have given the ring to Bero.’

Hughnot nodded. ‘I agree. He shouldn’t have. He should have made sure it came to me.’

I felt uncomfortable speaking with the great man. Wasn’t he dangerous, after all, and unpredictable, and were we not speaking of matters I really knew nothing of? ‘Doesn’t it always go to the son who marries first? The son of the one who holds it?’

He smiled. ‘That’s the story. But perhaps it should go to the brother who rules the best?’

‘Perhaps, lord,’ I said and eyed him carefully, hoping for some sign on what he desired.

He gave it. He turned to me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, less gentle than Father’s had been, but more respectful. ‘I will spare him. Him, and your mother.’

I blinked and felt the discussion had taken a dangerous turn. ‘Spare him, my lord? And my mother?’

His eyes twinkled in the dark with mirth. ‘Come now, Maroboodus. You know what I mean. Hulderic thought I’d not keel over. And I won’t. And that means someone else has to. But it need not be your father. And no, I won’t sulk in my lands over the winter. I’ll make some moves now.’

I didn’t say anything for a moment. I had planned on breaking away from the tribe with … Star-Flower, or whatever her real name was and I had felt there was something very sensible about Hughnot, not to mention him supporting me in the duel, but this was all too real. ‘I think I do know what you mean. And you won’t spare Bero?’

‘Would you care if I didn’t?’ he growled.

‘I’ll not betray Father,’ I said, without even thinking about it and I realized that’s where I drew the line, indeed. I looked at him and licked my lips. He was offering an easier way to do what I wanted to do. To be rid of Bero, to gather glory for the family, Father and I. 

He smiled and agreed. ‘I respect your father. He surprised me today, having been the second son in your grandfather’s family, though I knew he was a fine warrior. He finally stood up, a formerly silent, thinking man, and he spoke loudly, brazenly, and he has his men near, doesn’t he? I bet he didn’t want to give away the fact Bero had so many men here in Marka, and perhaps I might have been tempted at trying to take the ring. And the sword.’

‘You want the Head Taker as well?’ I asked him. ‘Surely it’s a fine blade.’

‘It’s the very best of blades, and it too, has a history,’ he said. ‘It takes lives, but it also enjoys taking the lives of the men in the family. The Boat–Lord fears it. He hates us and our small land here. But Hulderic. He is Bero’s sword. Yet, if you remove the head the sword may yet be of use. Wouldn’t you enjoy seeing him reach the clouds, your father?’

‘I’d like to see Father serve a higher purpose than Bero’s, indeed, lord.’

He shrugged, and seemed happy I agreed. ‘In that case, call me lord, if you like, but my champions call me brother,’ he said steadily, his eyes flickering into the darkness, when the twins, Ingo and Ingulf were probably standing ready. ‘You call me brother as well.’ He opened up his fibula, a silver bear raging amidst flowers, an exquisite thing and took off his heavy bearskin cloak. He then draped it around me. Then he pulled out a short sword from his belt and showed it to me. It was heavy and fat in the hilts, a sturdy and serviceable killing weapon that would be deadly in a shieldwall. ‘I am not going to buy you. But I am giving you respect. Such respect you didn’t receive when you beat Maino into pulp. You are due some. Your father gave you an ax, because you deserved it. Let this join it, as a show of love for a fine warrior from his relative.’

I stared at the sword feverishly. It was a kingly gift. Few warriors had such a weapon and my eyes went to the ax of my father. I felt like a fat bear tromping on the thin ice of a spring lake, about to plunge in. All I had wanted was to take the girl to the Svearna, marry her and then, if she had any powerful relatives, help Father rid himself of Bero and this man. And now the man was offering me another way. He said he would spare Hulderic, he’d give him respect. He did give respect to me. I eyed him and begged Woden to help me make a decision. I took a deep breath and spoke. ‘It is true I would like to be thanked when I deserve it. I would be married, I would have received the fine treasure I fought for in the battle, Cuthbert’s gear. I fought well and bravely. All I ask for is my lot, and when I deserve it. And I am not getting it while serving my family.’

He nodded, sympathetic. ‘As I said, I will spare your father and grandmother,’ he stated like a kind grandfather speaking of a misplaced prank, except he was asking me to betray Father. ‘If you’ll help me overcome the lords and those in the family that would defy me, you will never lack thanks. This place of rulership, the silver bracelet and iron sword of a Thiuda is mine, Maroboodus. The ring and the sword belong to me. Marka? I helped build it, with my ax and strong arm and I bled for it. I was here when no Goth yet looked upon these woods, the long valleys and the glittering lakes, and I fought to free this land from them. I made the Long-Lake and its northern shores Goth land. Friednot had the ring, and that was fine, back then. And I don’t care about the family’s rules on how it gets inherited. It’s ours to change such rules. I’ve waited for it for such a long time.’ His eyes had lost focus and his cloak began to feel like the suffocating wings of a great raven as he spoke, almost to himself. ‘I looked at it, glimmering in his hand for twenty years, patiently, upkeeping our tribe’s honor and fame when he could,
would
have failed to do so for many times. That he heard of the Saxons and the girl and Boat-Lord scheming from a spy. It was a rare show of brilliance from him to capture her before the Saxons bartered her to the Svearna or the Boat-Lord, but mostly he was slow and dull. He always was. Did I not sit in our father’s hall, looking at the ring when I was but a boy, sitting in dirty hay and shit, thinking how one day, the first to marry would get it? Then I saw our father ruffling Friednot’s hair, never mine and so it was like it was with your father. Friednot was the loved son, and he had no love left for me. He married Friednot first, because Father willed it. I married later, and knew I’d never see it unless, one day, I changed the rules. Friednot was strong, I was wise and now I am strong and wise both, and your uncle,
and
your father would say I have no right to rulership?’ His compelling, terrible eyes turned to regard me, and I could not turn mine away. He pressed his hand on my shoulder, and if felt like a ton of rocks. ‘What say you? Should I have the ring? And the rulership?’