Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1) (36 page)

I
t was late when Marcus got up. We had been sitting thus for days, drinking, him writing furiously as I told the story, and while I had been reluctant to speak of my past, now I found it annoying when he wanted to stop for the night. Marcus had an annoying habit of sleeping, where I could go on indefinitely, especially fortified by wine. He paced to the windows, and sniffed the surprisingly humid night air, for while Ravenna was often saved from the plague of summer’s warmth by the refreshing winds from the sea, it had been oddly hot the past days.

‘You left the land?’ he asked. ‘You became a Saxon?’

I smiled and stretched. ‘Well, no. Not really.’

‘But Ceadda and Njord—’

‘Ceadda,’ I cursed. He had been having terrible trouble with the names of my people, and while in the beginning I had got perverse joy out of seeing him curse and fix what he made a mess of, now it was just annoying.

‘
Ceadda,
’ he said, ‘took you in. Right?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘He helped me, but I didn’t become a Saxon.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because, just like it is in the Roman world,
pater
is the tyrant of the family. In all matters, big or small, Father rules. And Hulderic was my master still.’

He sat down to write that bit down, but looked puzzled. ‘But he let you leave Marka? You did indicate the guards didn’t care if you left or stayed. That they hated you. And you said you hated him. Blamed him, even? That you didn’t even tell him you would go?’

I snorted. ‘Well, it turns out Father had found he could be a bit dishonorable after all,’ I said. ‘Listen. After we arrived at the Saxon coast, I was taken to a hall. It was Ceadda’s hall, and their Saxon women and Chauci slaves took care of me. I was nursed to health and when I awoke one day, I had a visitor.’

‘Your father?’ he said with astonishment.

‘Yes,’ I agreed heavily. ‘He was there. He was there with Harmod, Dubbe, Sigmundr and many of his men. And Erse, of course. This is how our adventure ended.’

‘Tell me this, and then I’ll go to sleep,’ he said tiredly, wiping his brow.

‘Try not to make mistakes, if you can,’ I chided him.

He nodded and I let him write.

My eyes opened that morning to a curious sight. I was aching, some of my wounds were red and infected, and while they had told me I’d live, I still thought I was feverish. Ceadda was there, and he looked down at me. That was nothing. That was normal. What was not, was that Hulderic clasped his shoulder and the Saxon disappeared, looking guilty, and Father sat down on my bed, brushing away hay. He held a gleaming white skull with a fractured side, where Saxa’s ax had splintered it. The top was cut off and there was a silvery gleam inside it. He saluted me with it, drank from it. ‘To Saxa,’ he explained and gave it to me. ‘Drink.’

I took it weakly and noticed I no longer wore Draupnir’s Spawn. My eyes traveled to his hip, where on a thick belt was the Head Taker in a new sheath. I was about to protest, but thought about it and finished the mead, running my hand across the polished bone.

‘
You
gave them the furs. And they gave you the ring and the sword.’

‘I did,’ he said simply. ‘Though I took a risk. There was no way to know they could retrieve the weapon and the ring at all. But you and they did. They even parted with them willingly as I arrived. Strangely honorable, they are. Oh, don’t blame them. They love you well. If you must know, they wanted to go to Hogholm even without making a deal with me.’

‘You tricked me,’ I accused him.

‘I did. You lied to me. And betrayed me. You thrust all our lands into chaos. The Bear. He came and made a complete mess out of our lives.’

‘I won’t go back, Father,’ I told him bitterly.

He shrugged, his brutal face scowling. ‘There is
nowhere
to go back to, boy. After what you did, there is
no
place for our family there. Nowhere in Gothonia. They all hate us. Not only you. Us. So I made the deal with the Saxons, let you get your revenge, if you could, and I gained the mighty items, because I will not let Hughnot have them, and Bero doesn’t deserve them.’

‘I said I’m not going back,’ I shouted, not really understanding what he was saying.

He snorted. ‘I have Dubbe, Sigmundr, and Harmod out there with a dozen men.’

‘I’ll fight them,’ I said with all the strength I could muster. ‘I love them, but I’ll pummel their fat heads—’

‘Shut up! Listen! We don’t have a home! I’m not taking you anywhere!’ he roared and slaves ran out nearby. He slowly calmed himself and then leaned forward to look me closely in the eye. ‘I feared you. I fear you. I fear what you are. I see why the Boat-Lord disliked our family leaving the islands. The curse. It truly is real. I believe that, I always did, but even more now. I’ll have to keep an eye on you, and I shall. We shall go and seek a new home.’

‘You are leaving the north?’ I asked him, finally comprehending what he was saying.

He shrugged. ‘Yes. I tried to unite the gau. They were quarreling. Unable to meet my demands. Thought I was to blame for your deeds. Yet you are my blood. We are here because I fear you, and because I fear for you. Because I love you.’ He looked away, his face dark with anger. ‘Your sorrow broke me. Saxa’s loss, what it did to you? And still Bero and Maino expected me to condemn you. Still, they wanted me to lead the men in war. To serve with Maino? And Bero, who is a damned fool? Your tragedy made me hate Bero more than I thought possible. I couldn’t keep pretending I respect him, and while I cannot fight for him, I cannot kill him either. I promised Mother, and I keep my promises.’ He had a wistful look on his face. ‘It’s too bad he survived the Dragon’s Tail. Too bad. When I left him three days ago, I kneeled next to him and told him I’d kill him with the Head Taker if he came after us. I told him to rule, to rule well, to fight Hughnot, and to take care of our mother, who would not come with me. I came here, because I didn’t wish to kill you. I came here because I trusted Ceadda, and for the ring and the sword, and for you. And now, we shall flee to the south. We have no home here. I don’t want one here, no more.’

I looked at the ring and the sword and felt the bear rearing inside me. Had not Saxa seen me happy, a lord of men, and a king? And she had seen the ring and the sword as well.

Ceadda came to the hall. ‘All good, lords?’

‘All good, friend,’ Hulderic said tiredly.

‘I’m good, you liar,’ I told him and he grinned at me widely but then his mood changed and he fidgeted, and we both saw he had news. ‘There are some things you should know.’

‘Well?’ I asked.

He sighed and waved to the north. ‘A trader came in after you, Lord. He visited Marka. He says there is an army of Goths there, ruled by a madman, a raging crazy lord and he thought it was Hughnot. The man lost his mind after his son died. And there is more. They took Timberscar. Your mother is dead.’

Hulderic’s shock was evident, and guilt shone on his face. ‘And my brother?’

‘He fled, with his family, though his wife died,’ Ceadda stammered. ‘They say he has declared a blood-feud against you. Calls you a thief and father of Hel’s spawn.’

‘So be it,’ Hulderic said heavily. ‘I warned him.’

Ceadda bowed. ‘There is more. The trader said there is a man called Ingulf, who has vowed to fetch that cup from you.’ He nodded at Hrolf’s skull. ‘And to make one just like it out of yours, friend.’

I looked down at the cup and nodded at Father, who smiled at me ironically, as we had a common enemy to survive. ‘Let them come,’ I said.

Ceadda scratched his neck. ‘He is already here. Our new lord is feasting him.’

I stopped speaking and nodded, indicating I was done, despite Marcus’s incredulous look. He spoke. ‘Well?’

‘What followed, I think, is a new story,’ I said, mulling at what took place that winter on the Saxon shores. At that, Marcus smiled, wrote the final words, and got up, dragging the parchments with him.

‘You wintered there, at least?’

‘That, and more,’ I said darkly. ‘There is much more to the story.’

He laughed and walked to the door, where he turned to look at me. ‘There is, no doubt. And worry not, Maroboodus. Tiberius has not yet sent word you must die. He must be relatively well for now. We have time. You tell your story, Lord. But mind you, Maroboodus, that a man can only escape so many traps. Like a cat, your lives will run out. Perhaps yours are at an end? Enjoy our time together, relax as best you can, and let us finish the story, but do not fool me. I will not be happy if the story is over long and becomes too unbelievable.’

‘I told no lies,’ I told Marcus. ‘And I’ll not die in Ravenna.’

He smiled, bowed. and left, and I poured myself more wine.

Soon, Marcus would be back, and I’d tell him how we fought that winter, and fled from the lands of the Saxons, and survived Ingulf and the Boat-Lord, and even Bero, all of whom hated us.

And I’d keep trying to find a way to survive the wrath of Tiberius, and his advisor, his assassin Hraban, my son, the one who hates me.

- The story will continue late 2016 with the book: The Bear Banner -

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W
riting a story that takes place so far in the north, entirely out of scope of the Roman historians of the time, is both a challenge and an opportunity. While the tribes living around the Baltic Sea were probably not all Germanic, nor did they all share gods and customs, or even speak each other’s language, I had to make some shortcuts and assumptions so that there would be enough common nominators for them to co-exist in some sort of a cultural and geographical harmony. Suiones, Svear, probably
did
have stormy relations with the Gothic (Gutes) tribes of the time. Generally, Goths occupied the southern part of Sweden, the Suiones, or Svear the central and gods only know what was way up north in Sweden.

The story of Maroboodus takes place in these borderlands between the Goths and Svea, and his family is a brave group of settlers from the Gothonia, Gothland, rogues who broke off from their family against the wishes of the family patriarch. They are an enemy to their relatives, and they are also in constant competition with their robbed neighbors the Svea and the other Goths who had already built powerful nations further south.

Who were the Saxons, then?

Again, very little is known of their origins. They might have been several different tribes who inhabited Holstein, Denmark, a loose confederation or no confederation at all, especially 30 B.C. when this story takes place. They are mainly mentioned as raiding the Franks and Britain in later times, but just like most of the Germanic tribes, they raided their neighbors for their livelihood, and probably and most likely raided not only the west coasts of modern Holland, but also the south, the north and the east as well. Cuthbert’s Saxons were the ones to turn their eyes to Sweden, where the tribes across from Denmark lived, namely the Svea, Goths, or whatever was there during his time.

And that was enough for them to be regular visitors to the shores where the story takes place, though it was probably too far for them to bother.

Also, what is Long-Lake? There are plenty of places you could pick for such a body of water on the map, west of Gotland, and I’ll keep this one my own secret. I visited it once, and while it is nowhere as large or takes one as far to the interior of Sweden as I make it in the book, those shores and rivers I visited had a mythical, magical, ancient feel to them, and I could easily see the Goths and Svea fighting over the shores of these waterways.

As you see, we have a lot of room for imagination here. One must remember this is fiction, not accurate historical study, and I dare say it is no better or worse than many of those non-fiction works claiming they can prove a theory in an era where so little has been written of the subject. This book touches lands the Roman’s didn’t conquer or know. Sometimes we have to let our imagination take the place of science, especially when there is no way to prove what is the truth. I like to trust the laws of likelihood, if nothing else. It is likely there were many Germanic tribes in the area, and that they all shared trade, intermarried, explored, and shared gods and beliefs.

As for the family of Maroboodus and their belief in them being the first of men, their belief there is a curse set on the blood of their family? One that might bring Midgard to an end, as well as the gods and the Nine Worlds themselves? All fiction, of course. Aska and Embla were rumored to have been created in the northern shores by Woden (Odin) and his fellow gods, so I make that shore to be Gothonia, and since Lok was deemed the enemy of the gods after the death of Baldr, it made for an intriguing storyline to create this curse originating from the trickster. It will be mostly solved in the
Hraban Chronicles
, but will plague Maroboodus and his relationship with Hulderic in the coming books of Goth Chronicles as well.

One more thing. The focus of Germanic warfare rests on the shoulders of the champions, heroes of the warbands. Such men were the speartip of ancient warfare, half-professional fighters who led the warriors of the lords, and I introduced plenty of them in the book. Did it go overboard? Probably a bit. But then, every good fight needs a famous death, and since the book had plenty of good fights, I needed many famed men to fall. After so many famous deaths, Maroboodus has no place in the world of Goths after Dragon’s Tail.

And I am sorry for Saxa. I needed something to break Maroboodus, to make him colder, less idealistic, less happy, so there is something for him to brood over in the coming books. Saxa’s death did the trick, sadly. He’ll love again. Too many times, perhaps.

That’s it. More to come, hope you enjoyed the book. I tried to paint the world and the characters as believable as they might be. It’s no tale of Viking raids, though it was probably not too different, to be honest, no matter the difference of eight hundred years. It was a violent, hungry world, after all and the Goths would not later conquer the Roman world if they had been content and happy in the north.