Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) (15 page)

I struggled. I wanted to say it was his, should be his and would it not be just to think so, as he had waited for it for such a long time? Yes, it would. He had kept the two gaus alive, held our Goths strong in battles I knew nothing at all about, helped guard the lands, to expand them, to make us rich and independent.

It should have been easy to say yes.

But still, I hesitated.

I also had sat in dirt and cobwebs of our halls during feasts, wondering at the fine, golden thing Esla and Aska once carried. I had done what he had, and like Hughnot said, why would such a decision, the ownership of a mighty relic be dictated by fairness? Did gods endorse fairness? Was life fair? No, it was not. It was cruel as winter’s blow, merciless like freezing water, and then I hardened my heart to his promises. I began to deny his right to rule. I wanted to. I would not bow to him anymore than I’d bow to Father’s wishes.

I had planned to be a lord, none above me.

And that’s what I would be.

I opened my mouth to deny him.

But then a spirit of a wily nightfox whispered to me in the darkness. It spoke of caution. It had no words, but I felt it tugging at my hem. Hughnot was wily and clever, and also ruthless. I felt cold fingers hold my heart as I knew there were men in the dark, ready to kill me.

I had to say yes.

I would be careful and despite the many dangers, I still had my plan. It was supremely hard to abandon a less dangerous road, to give away promised support and honor and companionship, and exchange it all for fear and uncertainty, but I was willing to bet few old Germani heroes, sitting ancient, smelling of ale and farts and scarred in their smoky halls, rich and affluent and famed, ever took the easy road.

I’d lie.

I nodded. ‘I think you should have the ring and the rulership, indeed. And I should help you.’ The words were surprisingly easy to utter, and I had a hunch lying was not hard for Hughnot either.

‘I should, Maroboodus, yes I should have them. And I do thank you for your words.’

‘I’ll help you, if Hulderic retains his honor and fame, not to mention his
life.
’His eyes lit up. ‘What would you have me do?’ I heard myself asking, terrified of his answer. He might, after all, set guards on me for whatever he planned for me to do. And it might take place that very night.

His eyes twinkled and he regarded me, deep in his thoughts. I began to wonder if he had any real plan, but was making it all up as he went along.

But no, he had a plan all right.

Mine.

‘I will want you to be married.’

‘All men marry, lord,’ I said carefully. ‘Though I’d not be tied to some terrible, if noble old broomstick.’

He laughed hugely and happily and clapped a hand over his mouth as he glanced furtively around the dark, and turned to look at me with a wink. ‘That is the thing with you young men. All you think about is the bliss, but in the end you will start to go hunting, join a war band of some ferocious boat-lord and hope to endure the winters when the children crawl over your legs and back, and your wife cannot stop jabbering. But it is the mistake every man must endure, and serving me,’ he said with a smile that made him look like he was thirsty for blood, ‘you will at least get to go and make war when home becomes a burden. You will marry this Svea girl. You will marry her tomorrow.’

‘How will I marry her tomorrow?’ I asked in wonderment. ‘I’m to be banished tomorrow, not married. There will be a boat’s bench, and I’ll be hugging a thick oar, and hear words of Harmod, no doubt, not the willowy voice of that wonderful girl.’

He chuckled. ‘If I had not seen you fight so well, I’d think you are more suited for that Aldbert’s job, singing of birds, and love.’

‘He sings of spears, meat parting, and death as well as kisses of fair maidens,’ I told him sullenly.

He nodded. ‘He is a fine one for the art, I know. But you need to forget such thoughts of cozy love for now, and concentrate on the issue at hand. We will need you to fetch her. She has to be freed, and you might do it, now that Maino is not constantly hovering nearby. They carried him to the vitka’s hut and there he will stay for a while. You fetch the girl. She is important. Like the Boat-Lord intended to use her, so can we. She will give us peace, at least from some Svea clans. She might give us warriors.’ He looked at me and I was terrified he had read my mind and was only torturing me. My hair was standing on my neck, but he went on. ‘Then you will drape her over a horse, make sure she won’t scream—‘

‘Why would she—‘

‘She might, if she has fallen in love with some finer, or at least a more handsome warrior than Maino, and she might not wish to go back. I’ve had that happen to me once. There was a girl who asked me to free her from her father, but when I got there, and sneaked to her bedside, she had married that very day and I had to clobber the husband in order to get away. Terrible mess, boy. Father had to pay a high wergild.’ He poked a finger at my chest. ‘You know nothing of her, really, Maroboodus. It’s going to be an adventure for later times when you get to know her, but now, we need her for our alliance.’ My heart fluttered and I felt blush conquer my cheeks. He was right. I was premature. He smiled and sighed, amused by my struggles. ‘You will fetch her to a cove not far from here.’ He pointed a finger over the hilly shadows of the night. ‘There are crags on the beach there. Take her there this night. Hide. Hide well. They should be busy here in Marka, but they might be more determined to find her than I think they would. And we shall row by later in the morning to pick you lot up.’

‘And if I marry her and serve you, you will make war on our family,’ I stated. ‘You will want Draupnir’s Spawn, and Head Taker. But what then?’ That was the big question. So far, he had only been rewarding me with the sword and the girl.

He smiled wistfully. ‘Oh, I will want more than your service. It will not suffice to topple those… Bear Goths. You see, the Svearna tie us down, and keep us looking over our shoulders, when our distant cousin, the man they call Boat-Lord, rules rich parts of the Gothonia Islands. He has been busy in the south, and has been fighting with some savages across the eastern sea for a decade, but sooner or later he will come and land on these shores, as this failed marriage proves. He will have ten thousand men, and thousands he will send here to Marka, to split our lands up. He will still try to ally with the Svearna. Our spies in Hogholm, his capital told Friednot so. And if he wanted the girl,’ he nodded towards Bone-Hall, ‘then he is getting ready to make a move. That is why I am doing this, Maroboodus. For all of us. We will stop him.’

I stared across the dark sea for the old enemy of our family, and family in truth. The man was rich, his hall called the Silver Anvil, and while the reasons for the split in the family were never discussed, there was something sinister about it. Hughnot followed my gaze, and nodded appreciatively at my hidden thoughts. ‘I’ll tell you more about our ancient home one day. For now, I will make alliances. I will build our two gaus into ten stronger ones. I’ll use you and the girl to pacify, nay, to find allies from amidst the Svearna, and build hill-forts all across this land. I’ll build boats as well, hold Draupnir and call for Boat-Lord’s oath men to join us. Some will. I shall take our men over the sea to our Gothoni islands, and conquer there without mercy. I’ll piss on his hall’s fireplace while he quakes in terror.’

I saw his vision, and a part of me ached with disappointment, my decision hard pressed to be kept. His words echoed with wisdom, with strength, with unwavering confidence. I could see him, in the fore of hundred long boats, holding an ax, guiding his men to Hogholm’s harbor, and I could taste the mead of the fine feast he would set in the hall. And I could be there, standing next to Ingo, Ingulf, Hrolf? I could, I surely could. He saw me licking my lips, my hands trembling with his vision. ‘Then, to the south. We shall row there. We shall pacify the treacherous Langobardi and carve ourselves a piece of rich land worth being proud of. We can rule the coasts, and who knows, you serve Hrolf and see far greater glories. The Goths are not meant to ride the waves of this gray, frigid sea forever, no. It might be the
gods holy water, the sea of their tears, and yea, Freya’s golden ones litter its beaches. But gold flows elsewhere and there are old and famed, warm lands in the south. I am tired, Maroboodus, of being the Black Goth. What is that? A lord of lamb-herders? A king of a hamlet? I wish to be the Red Goth, and the forefather of a dynasty that will echo across lands and time itself. And Bero? He would hold the ring and till the land in peace? Bah!’

It sounded ridiculous. Bero, and Father had erred.

‘And you will be one of the dozens of great men with a high hall in lands that once nourished our enemies. You will sit on a throne, give gifts of stolen gold to lords like my champions, you will lead men into battles of shieldwalls. Not dozens, but thousands. You see, I am old, Maroboodus, and Hrolf will need you and other young men like you when he matures into a high man. When my pyre burns, somewhere far one day, make sure you will make Hrolf a king, a Thiuda of note. And for this, you will be rich and married to a dream.’ He smiled. ‘Though, I will warn you again, nightmares often have such nice hips and sultry lips.’

‘I will risk it,’ I said softly, struggling mightily with my conflict, but I was also grateful to him.

I’d not make Hrolf my king. I’d take his dreams and make them mine.

‘Kneel, son of Hulderic,’ he said harshly, blushed by his own dreams.

I nodded and kneeled. ‘I will. Lord. My father …‘

‘Will live. He will fight us, Maroboodus, but will he fight his son? I know him. He blusters and is the fighter of the Bear Goths, but when his son faces him across a shield rim? He will not fight. Not well, at least. He will live. We will capture him and give him honor. Serve me, serve Hrolf, Maroboodus. And he will join us. I know he will.’

I thought of his fanatical belief in the prophecy, and frowned. I was not sure Hughnot was right, not at all. ‘You wish an oath? I give it,’ I said, feeling twangs of regret over the whole situation.

‘You are mine, then,’ he said happily.

‘And how will I take the Svea to the cove? She is in the Bone-Hall?’

He leaned on me. ‘Ask your Aldbert to guide you. She is guarded by a woman in the Bone-Hall and he is a poet. He will go and make a song about the princess, or even the hag, and when he charms them, you will follow. You will lead her out, while the crone swoons over Aldbert’s charm. Or just tie her up. Use your imagination. Or the sword.’ He nodded at the weapon and I felt uneasy over such a terrible suggestion. ‘You will lead her out. The woman guarding her is old. Feeble.’

‘The Bone-Hall will have guards,’ I stated. ‘She might scream and warn them, and then it will go terribly wrong, and we shall be captured—‘

‘No. Nobody will hear her as she struggles.’ He smiled like an evil spirit, his mouth half open, tongue flicking in the maw.

‘Why not?’ I asked him, boding ill.

‘There will be a fire in the hall just to the north of here. Everyone will rush to help them,’ Hrolf said from the dark, probably too loudly and even Hughnot frowned. He shrugged at me and my shocked face.

‘He has a thing or two to learn of subtlety,’ he said with a grin. ‘A thing or two that he will learn, I know.’

‘When?’ I asked, afraid. ‘The fire, I mean.’

‘An hour from now,’ Hughnot said, squinting to the sky. ‘Talk to Aldbert and nod at Ingulf. He will be keeping an eye on you for a time. If Aldbert refuses, you will wear this cloak tight around you and do the deed anyway. This is the night for brave deeds and yours shall be just one of them. You have already started, oh wily lord of holes.’

I didn’t deny having dug the hole, and I didn’t have to. They had probably seen it. ‘It shall be the first of many such deeds all through your lifetime under the family banner, and when I’m the Red Goth, you will hear them sung in your hall. Say “yes”.’

‘Yes lord,’ I told him. ‘Brother,’ I added, as he frowned, and the frown turned into a smile of a honey-stealing child.

‘See you tomorrow, my boy,’ he laughed and got up with a groan, smiled and pulled our foreheads together and squeezed hard. ‘Do not fail me,’ he said, his eyes cold and I knew he was not a man to tolerate failure.

He left and I sat down to mull it over for a while. I turned to look at the darkness, wondering where Father was. I felt the unkind eyes of Ingulf somewhere in the shadows and hesitated as I got up. I walked for the Bone-Hall and found Aldbert near the doorway, where I expected him to be, waiting for me to appear, patiently, probably happy to prepare to travel in exile with me, if Father would let him. He should, if Father would marry Erse. He likely knew all about my exile already. I walked up to him, and his eyes enlarged as he looked deep into my eyes. ‘So,’ he said, without expecting an answer. ‘We are in trouble?’

‘I
am in trouble, poet,’ I told him brusquely. ‘I’m being exiled.’

He was nodding sagely in a way that annoyed me. ‘You
knew
you would if you decided to be the idiot of the Thing. You fought him.’ He leaned closer to me and put a hand over his mouth. ‘And that speech! You will bring war to the land. You will—‘ He breathed deep with admiration. ‘I wish I could come up with such nonsense when some chief dies, but that was exactly what your father didn’t wish to hear.’