Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

‘It is a spirit,’ she said with a smile. ‘And it approves.’

Oblivious to the holiness of the bird, Agin smirked. ‘What will you give her as dowry?’ he asked darkly, though there was a glint of humor in his eyes.

‘I have nothing,’ I said. ‘Nothing, my lord. Only my sword, but that, I suppose can make her a dozen dowries.’

‘Her father will ask this question,’ Agin said. ‘Just give him the sword when we meet him. At least the pointy bit.’

‘He gave me my freedom, brother,’ Saxa told him. ‘That is the greatest dowry Saxa of Snowlake can ever ask for.’

‘That is a great gift indeed,’ Agin said softly, though his bear-like voice still thrummed through the hall. ‘Though it might be an ill deed to chain him for his bravery this way. Be good to him, nag little, and if he mistreats you, bring him to me, and I’ll sit him on an anthill until he is a woman. Maroboodus. Kiss her! Eat well, drink too much, and retire, with my blessings.’ He nodded for the sleeping quarters. ‘Then, tomorrow, we shall begin to plan, eh?’

‘Yes, Lord,’ I told him.

Hild nodded at us. ‘You are one.’ There was intensity in her eyes as she clutched our forearms. ‘Enjoy your night.’

We were married.

I kissed Saxa. It was a clumsy kiss where our noses got in the way. After that problem was solved, the kiss went awry in a show of sloppy lips that sought each other unsuccessfully, and we broke it off, chuckling, and what followed were tilted heads, a perfect kiss, a long, happy union of lips and she pressed her lithe body against mine with a force and warmth born of love. The Saxons murmured appreciatively, and Aldbert frowned, but that’s all I remember as I kissed her. Thus, we stayed until Hild poked us. Apparently everyone was standing up and reluctant to stop cheering us until we quit the embrace, and we did. I guided Saxa to the table, and spent a supremely happy evening with the merry, drunk party of relatively friendly Saxons, my former enemies the Svear, and my Goth friend Aldbert, and a völva Hild who ate and drank more than the rest of us, though she kept casting her crooked eyes around the party, and shaking her head. Aldbert was careful, silent, worried, and would not sing when asked to. He kept staring at Hild, who stared back and then, at some stage I saw him gesturing for me, and he was pulling at my sleeve.

The look on his face. I shall never forget it. There were tears in his eyes, and his face was haggard with the massive knowledge he wanted to share, reluctant, like someone who had lied all their lives and were making a supreme effort to salvage their soul, but I denied him that relief, cursing him for his timing. ‘Not now, Aldbert.’

‘And I don’t want it to be now,’ he whispered. ‘I just wanted you to know you are right. I did it all on purpose.’

I stopped and rubbed my forehead, pushing away the anger his words made me feel. ‘I said not today. I don’t want to have this discussion today.’

‘Leave the village with me. Leave her with them. Go back to the Goths,’ he begged. I pushed him away from me and turned my back to him.

I was happy. I was married. I had no time for him.

He disappeared.

Finally, when it was late, we retired. I dragged Saxa to my alcove, and she pushed me as I did. I tried to take my time, but she wanted passion rather than care and opened her brooches deftly, the tunic peeling from her, and I held my breath as she pulled at my belt. My hands were touching her shoulders, my lips devoured her neck and face, and lips, and what followed was bliss, full of the loving energy of the gods themselves, full of Freya’s blessings and that night, it was good to be a man.

It was the best night of my life until then, and probably one of the best I ever had. But as happiness must eventually be balanced by sorrow, as the Norns weave it, so also was our happiness to be tested by spears.

That next morning, we awoke to the voice of battle.

The Goths had not been fooled, after all.

Someone had betrayed us.

I
had been dreaming of a red bear, standing majestically above a herd of black wolves. There was a white fox sprawled on the hillside, and dead bears littered the land. Wolves approached the red bear with reverence, their heads bowed, and the great creature smiled. It did, like a man would and that puzzled me. Then the majestic thing made a high-pitched sound, and that was even stranger, because it was like a distant scream of death.

    A crow croaked, and my eyes shot open as I sat up, breathless.

    My hand sought out Saxa, who shot up to a seated position next to me, her eyes drowsy, but clutching at my hand. The hall was smoky, as they often were in the mornings when men kept heating the place and burning wood in the fireplace, and I curbed a cough in order to hear.

Another scream, a longer one. Not far, even. ‘What’s that?’ Saxa asked breathlessly. ‘Was that—’

‘A man dying,’ I said with worry. It wasn’t hard to understand what the noises meant, and Saxa nodded as she came to accept there was something more sinister going on than a simple fight between some men of the village. Something was out there in the woods, or even in the village.

Then, there were horns being blown. The noises were brazen, rough, and spoke of war. They were our horns.
No, Goth horns,
I thought.

‘We must get up, immediately,’ I said and pulled Saxa up. ‘Dress up, grab everything you need to survive.’

‘I don’t need much,’ she said resolutely, and stopped, pulled me to her, and I saw fear in her eyes, as she embraced me furiously. She was reluctant to go, and so was I, and I felt like cursing the unfair gods for their callous act of spite, and felt they were throwing dice while playing some very unbalanced game where my happiness was at stake. I pushed her from me, and looked into her eyes.

‘We will survive, whatever it is,’ I said. ‘But it sounds like a battle and perhaps it’s lost already and then we have to make other plans than staying here.’ Now I could hear the blood-curdling barritus yell, where men put their shields before their mouths and made an ominous sound by screaming booming defiance.

‘No Svea does that!’ she said with panic.

‘Goths,’ I said. ‘Bero, he wasn’t fooled.’

‘Or someone told him he had been,’ she hissed, and I know she thought of Aldbert. She shook her head as she pulled on a tunic and a cloak. ‘I don’t blame you for loving him, for the trust. But I hate him. We should have asked someone to keep an eye on him,’ she stated with a growl. ‘You told me you would. You should have asked Ceadda—’

‘You said you don’t blame me! We cannot know—’

‘He didn’t want us here, did he?’ she hissed. ‘Probably been promised a heap of gold, or after he helped you hurt Maino just his life if he helps them. He’s a coward.’

‘How could he sneak off to the woods to find Goths? He is as adept there as a drunken grandfather.’

‘I think none of us know him,’ she said. ‘But we have no time now to think about him. Dress!’

I pulled on my shoes, listening to what I thought was a thick melee somewhere near, but the lake carried sounds very well, and so perhaps it wasn’t near. We’d see soon enough. ‘We can blame him, of course, but how is it the Svea let them in to surprise us, eh? Agin’s men know the land, no?’ I cursed and shook my head as I knew none of it mattered then.

She looked furious for a moment but also calmed her temper and spoke evenly as she pulled me up. ‘They make mistakes like any man, husband,’ she said testily and slapped my chest lightly. ‘Get your weapons. See what is happening. I’ll fetch the Saxons.’ She took the ax, and I had my hand on the hilt of Hel’s Delight.

‘Meet you here, in a bit,’ I told her as I rushed to the main hall. There were servants there, looking utterly shocked and before I could accost them a huge shadow filled the doorway as Agin burst in. He wore chain mail, darkened, crudely made, and looked dangerous with his ax. He pointed a thick finger at me. ‘Someone betrayed us,’ he said, and I saw he was tempted to blame me.

‘I was enjoying a night with Saxa, not skulking in the woods,’ I insisted.

He took deep, angry breaths and shook his head. ‘Yes, I know it was none of you. I had you and the lot of the Saxons guarded.’

I bit my lip but asked anyway. ‘Did you place a guard on Aldbert?’

‘The poet?’ he asked, staring at me blankly and that was the answer. ‘But he’s a damned fool. Anyone can see it. How could he lead them here? Would probably get lost on his way to the shithole.’

I shrugged, and we both froze as there was a long scream drifting on the morning air. I stepped closer to him. ‘How bad is it?’

He spat and pointed an ax to the woods. ‘Someone did betray us, and I’ll have that one’s ball-sack hanging on my shield. I have some eighty men from the closest settlements who were coming this way. They were surprised out there, on the march. We are lucky they happened to heed my call so fast, or we would all be waiting for your relatives to decide on whom to hang first. I have more coming, but that won’t help now, will it? And there are over a hundred Goths creeping for the village. Your Bero leads them, his damned standard was seen in the midst of a horde of Goths.’ He ground his teeth together, frustrated how the hunter was turning into the hunted. ‘I’ll go and lead my men. Perhaps we can keep them out. You take my sister and go! Hild!’ he called out and I turned to see the völva, who took a hesitant step forward from the shadows. ‘Take them to Gunnvör’s village. Tell him to guard them, and do not stray! Can you do this for me?’

Hild nodded carefully, her shifty eyes twitching and Agin grunted at me. ‘Take care of Saxa, will you?’

‘I’m married to her, aren’t I?’ I said harshly. 

I grasped his outstretched forearm and he left, roaring orders to the surprised Svearna who had gathered. His standard with red antlers was carried by a young man, perhaps his relative, for the man was as wide as a hillock. I rushed back to the hallway with Hild in tow, where the pack of hungover Saxons were standing, holding their new shields and framea ready, their eyes glittering in the darkness and I noted how they hovered around Saxa protectively.

Ceadda spat and spoke harshly. ‘What, lord? They came here anyway?’

‘They did,’ I said. ‘Someone … led them here.’

‘Bastard,’ Ceadda said and looked around. ‘Your friend’s not here?’

I didn’t say anything and the Saxon’s eyes glinted with a promise and I begged Aldbert would not meet them in the woods, even if he had nothing to do with our predicament.

I pointed to the end of the hall, where there would be a doorway out. ‘Let’s find someone to blame later, and now we shall have to go. Hild here,’ I said, ‘promised to take us away to a safe village. Who is Gunnvör?’

‘He is a lout,’ Hild said softly, ‘but loyal to Agin. Fat bastard living in a valley to the west. Half a day of running, at least.’

‘We shall run, then,’ I told them. ‘Out that way and we shall see what comes out of this.’

‘Shouldn’t we get a boat and go home? We did what we promised?’ Njord said with a frown, but Ceadda pushed him in the face so hard the taciturn Saxon stumbled, and so Njord nodded sullenly and rushed to the west end of the hall, cursing all the way. We followed him, pushing in the tight hallway until we reached the side doorway and a small room where we grouped up. I gave Saxa a brave smile, and she returned it and gods, I prayed to them and begged she would stay safe and not end up a plaything to a relative of mine, though the truth was she was married, and Maino could never change that.

Unless she was widowed, I allowed and nodded at Njord.

He sighed and yanked open a doorway, and then fell under an onslaught of flashing fang and slavering jaws. A trio of savage dogs rushed in from the open doorway, and Njord was fighting like a man in the jaws of lindworm, his eyes bulging with horror. He was trying to keep their slavering maws at bay, but then the masters of the hounds appeared, and they were Goths. An arrow smacked in the head of one Saxon, a spear took another and then ten Goths pushed in and ran into us, and I could see the surprise on their faces as they realized the hall was filled with spears and men who would not hesitate to fight back. Ceadda didn’t waste time on niceties, but stuck a spear in a man’s chest, and screamed. ‘Kill the dog-whores, strut on their shit!’ he yelled and savagely kicked off a dog from Njord’s side, killing the beast. A desperate, close melee ensued. Spears flew from Saxon hands, and two Goths fell, one wounded in the side, one mortally with an open chest that pumped blood crazily. Clubs went up, then came down and I joined the nasty fight, the push and pull and tear of the battle with my sword stabbing. I tried to keep my feet in the sudden press, and surged forward as a large Goth slapped a Saxon down with his shield, ready to stab the man with a framea, but he did not quite manage it when my sword snaked forward. It punctured the man’s eye, and he fell like a sack of hay. I stepped on him as hard as I could, but he was already on his way to Valholl, and Ceadda followed me and killed another Goth. I flailed around me in the press, slashing bearded faces, and saw the Goths were looking back, giving way. I slashed open a grimacing, young face. I pushed over a Goth to the waiting spear of Njord, who was now standing, bleeding from bites and claw-scratches and struck my blade up through a man’s gut so hard we fell out of the door into the morning’s light.

All around the village, a battle was being waged. Goths were probing the many houses and longer halls, trying to find resistance, rich loot, cows and food, and ultimately us. There were some fires in the structures, a blacksmithy was steaming, its wet thatch burning lazily, and there were many horses galloping around. In the bushes and small fields before the halls, older men were being speared, and women were dying and being captured.

And then I saw Maino.

He was seated on a shaggy gray horse, guiding his men to a neighboring hall sixty feet away and with him, were Bero’s champions.

He had not noticed us, and I cursed awfully when I saw Aldbert standing near him, looking meek, sheepish. He was wringing his hands, nodding for the hall, and I realized that while he had betrayed us, and gods know why, but he had guided them to the wrong hall. Maino thought he would capture me like a rat, and had set other men in our hall, but Aldbert would pay for the deceit. My eyes met Aldbert’s.

His mouth moved, his face was white with worry, and he shook his head weakly at me as if to explain his foul actions, but I couldn't guess his reasons or any of his actions, and I spat in his direction.

Inside our hall, the Saxons were winning. A few desperate Goths were still fighting, but had been pushed to the corners where they were being speared. Some Saxons were dead, one spitting blood from a slashed lip, and then Ceadda came out, bloodied and fey, like a vengeful, thin bear crawling out of its pit after killing intruding hunters. I looked around desperately and then Hild pulled at me. ‘Gunnvör’s village is half a day away. We need a distraction to get away.’ Maino was still sitting on his horse, entirely oblivious to our presence as we crawled away from the doorway, begging no more dogs would be skulking around. 

That would not last. They would see us.

I saw many of the villagers running southwest and west and then I nodded at her. ‘I’ll be the distraction.’ Hild began to argue, but looked at the savage champions of the Goths, and nodded reluctantly. ‘You get her, and the confused herd of pirates to safety, and …’

‘You will survive,’ she said softly. She looked to the west, and there, far, were two tall hills. ‘That is Saxa’s father’s village, Snowlake, right there on those hills. ‘I’ll take them,’ she thumbed the others, ‘to where they will be safe, and I’ll find you. Head for the two hills, hide in the woods to east of it, and I’ll find you and take you to safety. Tell her goodbye, for you have to go now.’

‘Thank you, Hild,’ I said, crawled to Saxa and kissed her long and hard and my heart was hammering with fear at the thought of losing her. ‘Ceadda, take care of her,’ I said and noticed the Saxon had no objections. ‘Follow Hild, do as she says and then guard Saxa. I’ll make sure Maino takes after me.’

He was now looking at Aldbert with a vengeance. ‘That bastard, eh? Why would he—’

‘He will pay,’ I told Ceadda with a brave smile. ‘Go.’ I grabbed a spear, a shield, and two javelins and walked from tree to tree, spying Maino. I turned to look behind, and the Saxons rushed to the lakeside after Hild, where they fought with three Goths, very surprised men guarding the boats and I noticed there were some Goth boats there as well, the ones they had used to bring Maino’s men to the village during Bero’s attack. The shouts of a brief scuffle at the muddy lakeside led Danr to turn his head that way and to take steps my way, trying to see past the shrubs.

Then he noticed a wounded Goth crawling out of Agin’s hall, and I saw his face go white as he turned to Maino. I prayed to the gods, hefted the javelins, well made with strong iron points, and jumped forward. Danr’s instincts told him something was happening, or perhaps he saw a glimpse of movement. His face betrayed shock as he turned and then the javelin spun in the air. The champion fell on his rear, but the weapon was not aimed at him.

It spun towards Maino, and so did the next javelin.

The beefy cousin of mine turned his horse, no doubt stolen from the Svea of the Wolf Hole, to look at me in horror, then fell flat on his horse and one javelin sailed over him and disappeared into the woods. The next one struck his horse’s neck. The beast fell, whinnying wildly, and spilled the fool heavily over its head.