“We have recently come back from a brutal fight…” Taso explained. “You must have heard we lost our father, Duke Gisulf…”
“I have heard, and I am sorry for your loss, but now is not the time for mourning. Come join us and do your part. Or at least send with me your bravest men! The Duke of Tarvisium and the Duke of Ceneda are waiting for us to join them. The more we are, the easier the win!”
“We will send with you half of our men, but we are staying behind…” Kakko responded. “There is a new Byzantine Tribune in Heraclia, and it is better if we watch our backs…”
“Those pathetic Greeks will not attack you,” Adalulf interrupted, deriding the two brothers. “They are just reinforcing their defenses because they are terrified that this spring we will come and finish them off once and for all! And we will!”
“Kakko, I think Adalulf is right, it would be suicidal of them to even think of attacking Opterg…”
“And besides, don’t you have your Istrian vassal over here?” Adalulf continued, supporting Taso’s point of view. “He can defend you from his Latin friends down in Heraclia!”
Adalulf had spotted Zani of Ruvinium, and he pointed at him, while he was sitting on the side drinking some sort of ale from an earthen mug.
“You mean, Zani of Ruvinium?” Kakko asked, rhetorically. “He is a liability rather than an asset. Most of his men have left him, and I feel we are more protecting him rather than he protecting us…”
“But you are right. His few dozen men should suffice!” Taso added. “Go ahead and take half of our men and finish off those Avar bastards! Kakko and I will sit this one out…”
At that moment, Kakko’s and Taso’s younger brother, Grimwald, a twelve-year-old even a bit short for his age, jumped on a horse and moved toward Adalulf’s group.
“I will join them too, brothers! I want to kill as many Avars as I can to avenge our father!”
“And who is this boy?” Adalulf asked, a bit amused.
“That is Grimwald, the Avars’ slayer…ha, ha, ha… our little brother…” Kakko explained, being very ironic.
“Oh, Adalulf! You have not heard of Grimwald’s adventures with the Avars, have you?” Taso asked with a big smile.
“No… I want to hear!”
Adalulf was all amused about this little and feisty warrior.
“So we were on the eastern border,” Taso started, “…and our father Gisulf had just been killed. The Avars had won the battle, so Kakko and I were ready to flee on our horses… but Grimwald was there too, because he had convinced our father to bring him as well, despite his young age…”
“… but we were running for our lives, the Avars were coming for us, and neither one wanted to carry Grimwald because it would have slowed us down…” Kakko added.
“…so Kakko wanted to kill our little brother right there to spare him the Avars’ tortures…” Taso continued.
“…but the little devil pleaded us not too. He insisted that he would attempt to run too - with the mule we had brought for the provisions and, surprisingly, it was still standing unhurt…” Kakko added.
“…so we said ‘fine, and good luck!’ and we galloped away…” Taso continued.
“And he obviously managed to outrun the Avars on a mule, I suppose…” Adalulf interrupted forcing a bit of a laugh.
“No! They caught him! Ha, ha, ha!” Kakko answered.
“And that mischievous Grimwald pretended to be even younger that he is, and an Avar warrior took him on as a slave! Ha, ha, ha!” Taso continued.
Now Adalulf was puzzled and intrigued.
“So they are riding back to where the Avars came from, and Grimwald takes the Avar’s sword and kills the bastard! Ha, ha, ha!” Kakko added.
“And then he takes the Avar’s horse and turns it around. We were in Opterg licking our wounds, and in the middle of the night we see this little gutsy warrior coming to the wall’s gates on an Avar’s horse! Ha, ha, ha!” Taso continued.
“Is that right?”
Adalulf was very impressed, and actually respected young Grimwald much more than Kakko or Taso.
“Well, in that case, he is definitely welcome to join us… Now, let’s go!”
Adalulf galloped away taking as many Longobard warriors as he could from Kakko and Taso’s clan. Grimwald was more than happy to join in. He was not lazy like Kakko and Taso, and despite his young age, he already showed warrior skills.
From a far distance, a Byzantine sentinel observed the galloping party leaving Opterg. Adalulf was apparently telling the truth. The sentinel signaled by lighting a fire visible to the south toward Heraclia, but covered on the north side toward Opterg. The signal reached Tribune Gregorios, who had all his men ready, and was just waiting to find out if it was actually true that the city would be left undefended.
“Well, Polo,” Tribune Gregorios admitted, “…it seems like your brother brought us a very valuable message! There is treachery among Longobard ranks! Good to know… good to know that they are not a unified bunch!”
“We won’t know for sure until we have captured it,” Polo replied. “In the back of my mind I am always thinking that the joke is on us, and all those warriors might be returning to finish us off.”
“Either way, it is the best chance we have,” Tribune Gregorios continued. “If we wait on the defense we would eventually be wiped out even in Heraclia… Now let’s go!”
He signaled to all soldiers to move toward Opterg.
The Byzantine soldiers entered an unguarded Opterg, catching Kakko and Taso by surprise. Less than half of the Longobard warriors had remained, and as the battle began, it was one-sided in favor of the Byzantines. The few men under Zani were fighting as well, but Zani was more interested in looking for an escape route. He found a way out and he began to flee. Polo saw him and chased him down.
“Zani, you coward! Come back and fight!” Polo screamed.
Zani soon found himself unable to run further, and because Polo had caught up to him, he started to fight back. The sword battle between Zani and Polo began, farther away from the main battle between Longobards and Byzantines.
Zani was waiting on the defensive, waiting for Polo to strike. Polo remembered the Emperor’s advice, and he did not bite. Nevertheless, he needed to provoke Zani into attacking.
“Zani, you are afraid of fighting? You know you are going to die, right?” Polo provoked.
Zani was aggravated. After all, he had more experience than Polo, as he was heavier and stronger. He barged at Polo screaming. He hit Polo with his sword repeatedly. Polo was without shield, but protected himself with his sword, as all of Zani’s strikes were powerful but predictable. He thought ‘there you go, swing those arms… you fat man!’ One strike managed to bend Polo’s sword enough that it also hit his helmet. Polo was a bit shaken and backed away, while Zani saw progress and took a break from the attack. Polo did not want Zani to stop, so he provoked him by advancing with his sword. Those featherweight strikes were irritating Zani. He angrily advanced again, slamming his sword violently and repeatedly onto Polo. Polo took the beating protecting himself with his sword, and he only hoped that the sword would not break. ‘Keep on banging…’ he thought. Then Zani attempted to lock swords. It was a clear attempt to catch his breath, but also to overpower Polo with his weight, transferring the fatigue of the fight onto his smaller and skinnier opponent. Polo remembered the Emperor’s words well. As he moved to the side, he caught a distracted and exhausted Zani unprepared. And he struck his enemy’s left forearm, the one not holding the sword. Zani screamed in pain, and jumped back into action, more out of his wounded pride than anything else. He kept on banging, and Polo kept defending himself. Zani was slowing down and Polo counterstriked again, this time on the upper portion of the leg. Zani shrieked, as it was a deep cut. He was not done yet, and he barged toward Polo knowing that now he was a wounded an
imal and that his fate had taken a turn for the worse. Polo found Zani charging with his large belly unprotected, and he thrusted his sword through Zani’s intestines and quickly moved away before Zani’s sword could come down to give a final blow.
Zani was on his knees, bent forward, holding his bowels to keep them from gushing out with the flowing blood. Polo walked in front of him and gave one final diagonal strike at the top of Zani’s shoulder, breaching the torso.
Polo did not feel anything. He had now avenged two parents he did not even know existed until a year ago, so he did not have a particular rancor toward Zani, not as much as the resentment he felt for those who ended the life of Uncle Licio and family, to whom he was emotionally attached.
Polo returned to the main square, where all Longobard soldiers had been killed. He found Kakko and Taso both on their knees. Byzantine soldiers were holding them firmly by the arms. They were held down on top of two tree stumps, each with a soldier’s foot pressing on their backs.
“Kakko and Taso… Taso and Kakko… which name comes first?” Tribune Gregorios asked, while pacing between them.
“Release us to our uncle Grasulf! I plead you! It will be a sign of a long lasting truce!” Taso implored.
“I beg you, oh mighty Tribune! Our uncle Grasulf will pay a reward if you return us to him alive!” Kakko pleaded.
“I have a feeling your uncle would be happy if I get rid of the two of you for him… after all you are all contenders to be Duke of Friuli!” Tribune Gregorios answered with satisfaction.
“No, mighty Tribune, no! He loves us! This way he will not avenge us, I promise…” Taso begged.
“Hmm, perhaps you are right, but look at those bushy and grimy beards you have! We should trim them properly before meeting with your uncle!” Tribune Gregorios answered while patting his well-groomed beard and looking down at Kakko and Taso.
“Sure, we will shave properly, whatever you say…” Kakko whimpered.
“Shut up, Kakko!” Taso admonished his brother, as he was oblivious to the metaphor.
“Very well! Let me do the honors of shaving your beards! Does anyone have a blade?”
Tribune Gregorios looked around mischievously at his men, and then picked up a Longobard sword from the ground.
“My goodness, your swords are so dull!” Tribune Gregorios continued. “Kakko and Taso, I would not be able to shave nor trim your beards with such a dull blade!”
“Tribune Gregorios, you can try with my blade…” a Byzantine soldier offered while bringing forward his sword. Tribune Gregorios ran his fingers onto the blade.
“Yes, yes, yes! Look at that! This is a mighty sharp blade!”
“Tribune Gregorios, I believe my blade is better suited to trim those coarse Longobard beards!” A second Byzantine soldier interjected while holding up a large axe.
“Oh my! You have a point there! Hmmm… perhaps we can compare and see which gives a better shave… What do you say, Taso? And Kakko… are you crying? Kakko?”
Adalulf was leading the Longobard expedition in search of the Avars. He was galloping along followed by his men. The Longobards from Opterg were close behind, and Grimwald had made sure to be toward the front, but there was something not convincing about Adalulf’s erratic lead through the woods. Grimwald had been chasing Avars off his land with his father Gisulf, who had a faster and more direct pace, and knew where he was going. Adalulf instead was looking for a place, more than for someone. As Grimwald studied Adalulf, the young Longobard slowed his pace, falling toward the end of the pack, as if he wanted to see things from a different perspective.
Grimwald noticed that they were slowly descending in a small valley that got gently narrower and narrower. It reminded him of when his father took him hunting wolves. Dogs and horsemen would push the wolf pack into a dead end valley, block them at the entrance, and finish them off from the crest of the… wolf trap. ‘It’s a wolf trap!’ He thought. Adalulf had indeed led them into a wolf trap where his archers were waiting. Adalulf and his warriors quickly climbed up and blocked the others from ascending.
“It’s a wolf trap!” Grimwald shouted to everyone.
It was too late. The archers had started shooting. The trapped Longobards were clumsily trying to turn around, but Adalulf’s horsemen were quick to come around from the top and finish them off. Grimwald in the meanwhile was fleeing. Adalulf eyed him from the distance and began a solitary chase.
A long pursuit began, and Grimwald proved to be a very mature horseman for his age. He immediately stripped away the shield and any other heavy armor. He needed to be light to get the maximum speed from his horse. Adalulf was observing him and he was very focused on catching him and finishing him off. This was no Latin farm boy. A noble Longobard left alive was certain to come back and one day avenge this betrayal.
Grimwald was leading Adalulf into thick woods. He was a clever and skillful horse rider. He could easily ride on the side of the horse when wood branches would otherwise decapitate a horseman. Adalulf was in fact slowed down, but they soon entered an open field. This was the moment to finish off the lighter and faster Longobard boy. Adalulf grabbed his long spear that was fastened to the side of the horse. His shield was bouncing on his back, as he straightened himself and rode without holding the reins. He needed the second arm free to counter balance a precise long throw. Grimwald was crouched forward on his horse. He was essentially riding bareback, holding himself up by squeezing his knees together on the horse’s back. His head was turned and studied Adalulf by peeking behind, from underneath his armpits. He was a small target, but his horse was a much larger one, so he had to be ready.
Adalulf swung a fine long throw. It was angled correctly, it was going to hit, but Grimwald suddenly made a sharp turn with his horse and avoided a fatal blow. Adalulf had to catch him. The old and experienced warlord chasing the young and upcoming warrior. He respected Grimwald as a peer, by the way he rode and because he was the only one clever enough to avoid his meticulous trap. A few years from now, he would be old enough to beat him in battle.
Finally, Grimwald spotted Opterg in the distance and he pushed his horse as hard as he could. He had almost made it. Once at a shouting distance he screamed with his still juvenile voice:
“Open the gate! Open the gate!”
Adalulf slowed down. He was certainly not going to enter. Not that he was afraid of Kakko and Taso. He could defeat all three brothers by himself. He noticed two Byzantine soldiers observing from a guard tower on top of the wall. He stopped his horse and thought ‘Good, the Byzantine will send Grimwald’s head in a box to their uncle Grasulf, together with Kakko’s and Taso’s’. Adalulf turned around and galloped away at a leisurely pace.
Grimwald entered with his head turned around watching if Adalulf managed to enter before the gates closed behind him. As he descended from the horse, he shouted:
“Kakko! Taso! Brothers! We have been betrayed!”
As he turned around, he found his two older brothers staring back at him. Their decapitated heads were thrusted on top of two long spears standing in the center square.
“Did you say ‘brothers’? Well I guess Uncle Grasulf will receive a third present!” Tribune Gregorios asked the young Grimwald.
Two Byzantine guards grabbed the unarmed Grimwald by the arms, and they dragged him forward toward one of the two bloodied stumps. A third soldier pressed his foot on Grimwald’s back and he managed to break a couple of ribs on the young boy’s thorax.
“Shall we try a different blade to shave this boy’s fuzz?” Tribune Gregorios asked.
“Let me go! Let me go! You piece of shit!” Grimwald yelled back.
A soldier brought forward a long sword.
“Ah! This will definitely do the trick!” Tribune Gregorios stated and started juggling the sword a couple of times, measuring the swing, and at that moment he heard:
“Stop!
”
It was Polo, and Tribune Gregorios lowered the sword and turned around amused. Perhaps Polo wanted a turn.
“Tribune Gregorios… I believe this young boy does not have any beard to be shaven…” Polo remarked.
Tribune Gregorios suddenly became serious.
“Polo… this is a young Longobard nobleman. I guarantee you that if we spare his life, we will one day bitterly regret it. He has too much to avenge. You have to learn that in a battlefield, there is no time for clemency, no matter what the Patriarch and Father Leontio taught you. In fact, I think you should do the honors…”
Tribune Gregorios handed the sword to Polo.
“I insist, Tribune Gregorios, he is young enough to be taken as slave. He will be my slave and I will be responsible for his actions.”
“Very well, Polo, if you insist. We have captured Opterg thanks to your brother Primo, and we have regained Istria thanks to the swordsmanship you learned in Constantinople. If this is your one wish, I will grant it.”
Tribune Gregorios sighed, knowing that it was a mistake, but he gave the soldier the order to let Grimwald go. As Grimwald got up he said in his Germanic tongue:
“Know this, you Latin weasels, I will kill all of you, and I will burn this town down to the ground…”
“Polo! Did you understand what he said?” Tribune Gregorios immediately exclaimed.
“No…”
“He said he will kill us all! Any change of mind?”
Polo paused for a second and thought while staring Grimwald in the eyes.
“No, I will keep him as a slave… I have my reasons. I will take the risk.”
The victorious Byzantine convoy was returning from Opterg to Heraclia. The horses were walking at a leisurely pace. They left some soldiers back in Opterg to secure the town, and to fortify it. Grimwald was on foot, with his hands tied behind his back and another rope tied to his neck. Polo was holding the other end, while sitting on his horse.
“Little Grimwald, if you could understand my tongue I would explain to you why I saved you…”
Venetians Page 11