The Oath Keeper

by Alaric Longward

  I head the bone snap.

  She twitched, and I smelled shit and piss.

  I relished the smell.

  I watched her there, dead, her old face a horrifying mask of evil, and for a moment I expected something terrifying to crawl out of that skin.

  But no, she was just…dead.

  I pulled her to the pond and pushed her in, and there she floated for a moment, until she sunk.

  Then, I turned to walk out. Nobody had seen me there. Not a soul was staring at me in horror. They were cleaning up the atrium.

  I grasped her blanket and folded it over my shoulder to cover some of the oil stains. I picked up a chair from the room in which I had murdered the two slaves. Whistling, I carried it for the atrium. I passed a guard, a drowsy fellow and two slaves, and then walked the way I had come in from.

  I set down the jar and the blanket, picked up my helmet and shield, and turned to go.

  I stepped to the corridor and turned down it.

  There I stood just before two figures, speaking softly.

  One was Kemsit.

  She was alive.

  More, she looked prosperous, wearing a fine tunic and silver bracelets.

  The other one was Sejanus.

  “I followed a mark,” she was saying. “And I found something. Hraban.”

  “And what of him?” he asked, face ashen gray. “What? You don’t mean…what of Hraban? Come, tell me more! It is not possible, is it? I need to know more. I have given you a lot of freedom, and men to call on, and you have served us well and paid your debts, but will you tell me who you followed to find out all this—”

  They both hesitated and turned to look at me.

  Sejanus’s face went white from horror.

  I slammed my fist to his face, and he fell on his back. I pulled the pugio and slashed it up at Kemsit, and she fell back and ran out.

  I kicked Sejanus so hard, he howled, and that howl attracted praetorians from the outside.

  Kemsit ran past them.

  I hesitated and ran after.

  She had not told him of Claudius.

  I bashed to the midst of the praetorians and slashed my blade at one. His throat opened, and I smashed my fist to another’s face. I squeezed out and lost my shield to a grasping hand.

  I sprung out and then down the street, where Kemsit was running like a hare for the Forum Bovarium. I took after her like Hel’s dogs were reaching for my arse and heard many men behind me and a leathery clatter as they were abandoning shields to be faster.

  “Hold! Hold!” they called out.

  “Hold my arse,” I wheezed, and pulled my helmet off, throwing it to the side. I ran to a narrow shadowy alley, where Kemsit had just disappeared.

  “Catch him!”

  She had said nothing of Claudius. Nor of Pompeia.

  She had weaseled her way out of Sejanus’s clutches, had likely helped him roast dozen of his enemies, and had, apparently, followed Claudius, curious as to what the apparent fool was doing.

  I ran as fast as I could and came out of the alley to stand behind an uncouth party of five thugs, drunken and vicious, herding her to a corner.

  She was shaking her head.

  One, a thick, fat bastard, was dancing before her. “Why, what a late dish we were delivered by the gods? Do not worry! We shall protect you! We don’t ask much in return.”

  The others laughed, especially hard when she pulled a dagger, and then one turned, and I wasted no time as I charged them.

  My dagger out, I slashed it to the belly of the man. I ripped it out and smashed the blade to a face of another, and then I was attacked from all directions.

  The fat shit was fast. His weapon, an odd sword with a thin blade, stabbed for my face, and ripped into my ear, and he brawled close, grasping me, while the others came at me with daggers. I smashed my dagger’s hilt to face of the fat shit.

  He didn’t mind.

  “Come, come,” he laughed, spitting blood. “They all try that.”

  They all did, apparently.

  He bore me down, and the others hovered on top of me.

  Then one howled, and I saw a pila was embedded in his chest. The fat shit jumped up, the other one turned, and I saw Kemsit running at the Forum Bovarium, already far.

  I sawed my blade on the man’s thigh, the fat shit’s, and sprinted, as pila fell around me.

  I pushed the last standing man to the path of ten praetorians and ran.

  The thugs died, and running, I looked behind.

  The praetorians were extremely near. They were luckily out of shape, at least enough for me to keep a lead, and instead, I watched Kemsit. She had fallen, and a dog was yapping at her, then another. She slashed at one, it yelped, and she sprung away, as we all ran for her.

  I cursed, panting, spitting blood, my ear on fire, and pulled at the damned armor, removing it and tossing it to the side.

  The praetorians, one lobbing a pila that tore the air near my shoulder, were abandoning their gear as well. Helmets, shields fell, and I knew I would not be able to get away.

  And then, we came to Tiber, near the harbor.

  Men worked day and night there, dismantling the boats they used to transport wood and food to the city. In the light from the harbor, I saw Kemsit on a bridge, stopping.

  I was nearly onto her, when I saw vigiles approaching her from the other side, calling out questions, suspicious.

  She was in panic.

  Is she had been thinking, she would have run to the men, and howled murder.

  Instead, she was hesitating.

  Cursing, I knew what I had to do.

  I roared and tackled her off the bridge.

  Her dagger flashing to my back, we fell together to the river. We went deep, struck the bottom, and she was struggling. I pulled her up and clasped a hand over her mouth, and she bit me.

  I hissed and struck her, making a huge splashing noise, and from the bridge, pila fell.

  One struck her in the shoulder and spun off. Her eyes rolled in her head, and she went limp.

  I cursed and let the current take us, and after drifting and splashing past the harbor, the guards far behind, I dragged her to muddy ground and hoisted her over my shoulder.

  Over the next few hours, I made my way to another house, one that Gernot had set up to be a backup sanctuary near the abandoned Block, and there I lay her down and leaned on a wall.

  I stared at the greedy bitch.

  The survivor, the monster with golden eyes.

  Such a small thing, and she had caused so much harm. I snarled. “Don’t even think I believe you are unconscious.”

  She was still.

  I got up and nudged the wound. She hissed and backpedaled along the wall, until she was in the corner. She raised her hand.

  I scratched my face and nodded as I thought about her treachery. I felt cold lump in my belly. “You followed Claudius. How long?”

  She shook her head. “Only today.”

  “Where did you follow him?”

  “I followed him to you. Then you to a house and then went to get the men that help me,” she said softly. “Praetorians. Cassius.”

  I blinked. Cold fear grasped my soul. “You know where we stay.”

  She sighed. “I know. We took your house.”

  I stared at her with fury. “And the people inside?”

  “We lost a man and a woman, a child. They climbed out to the roof,” she said. “And we killed slaves and took Red prisoner. I know him. I took him away to be…he is dead.”

  Silence.

  “You tortured the poor bastard to death,” I snarled. “And where did you hide Pompeia? I also noticed you didn’t mention her.”

  She shrugged.

  “You didn’t take her to Sejanus?”

  She shook her head, but said nothing, her eyes gleaming feverishly.

  I placed a sword on her throat. “Speak.”

  She seemed to deflate, and she spoke. “When Sejanus took our house and found Pollio and
Brutus dead, and took me a prisoner, I suffered a great deal to get to his good side. To find trust, I told him much of what I knew. Years of it. I didn’t know all the people, not like Pompeia did, and mother was in charge of much of it when she was still alive, so I could only do so much.”

  “You only want the gold,” I said.

  She nodded. “I did it for the gold. I have been searching for it. Let me go,” she whispered. “She never told you either, eh? Let me make her tell us.”

  I sneered at her. “Why did you follow Claudius?”

  She chuckled. “These Agrippina’s records. The ones Gaius stole from his mother, supposedly. I had never seen them. I had not even heard of them. I knew Agrippina was nothing to her. Not a thing. So, I let Sejanus and Gaius play their game and knew they had to come from someone. That someone being Pompeia. The fire in her jail, well…it left questions. Sejanus was happy, though. I helped him. I tried to find out where, who, and what was going on. For years. Then I thought of Claudius.” She shook her head. “Why are you and Gaius, and that idiot Claudius working together?”

  “I work for Gaius,” I said. “Claudius—”

  “That insect-loving imbecile,” she hissed. “I hate him.”

  “Pompeia,” I told her. “You will tell me where Pompeia is. Unless you wish to die now, of course.”

  She hissed and thrashed, and I pressed the sword to her chest, not deep, but deep enough. She was panting and cursing. “I left her to that building, guarded by two men. She never left home. I would have gone back…”

  “And Red,” I said. “His body?”

  She smiled and saw what would happen. She read my eyes perfectly.

  “You know, we did manage to get something out of old Red,” she told me. “He was hanging upside down, and the guard went to work on his privates, and he broke down. Honor and all that, it was still too much. He spoke. And he told us about a house. A villa. Near Misenium. And Neapolis.” Her eyes flashed. “There are men going there right now. I have served our family well. And, Hraban, I was not lying about the sight. About everything else, and to her, but not to you.” She shook her head. “You shall be very sad.”

  Blood turned ice in my veins.

  I pushed my sword to her chest, to her heart, and got up, feeling dizzy.

  I searched the house, dressed in chain from the small armory, and a found a tunic, and then stole a horse from a stable not far.

  Then I hesitated, for Pompeia was still a prisoner.

  “They’ll not go before morning, the Romans,” I murmured, and rode for our old house.

  In the alley, corpses were splayed. They were hacked and stabbed heaps of misery, and I dismounted. I walked to the doorway, brazenly, and went inside.

  There, two praetorians were asleep.

  I cursed them softly and stepped close. I placed my sword under one’s eye and pushed down.

  Then I hacked at the other one, who was now awake. His fingers fell, and the blade cut to his throat. I watched him die and looked around the house, that had been home.

  Blood and spatters, broken furniture and lost happiness, these things I saw.

  Then I walked to where Pompeia had been held and found her there, tied down on her bed.

  I untangled her from her sheets and found the rope around her wrists. I pushed my blade on the knot of the rag around her mouth and sliced it open.

  She was gasping, weeping, and clutching me. “It was—”

  “She is dead,” I said sadly. “So is Red. And Livia. I am sorry.”

  “They will torture your Red,” she said. “Agamemnon, I think, escaped through the roof with Julia, but Red—”

  “Is dead,” I said again, and the shock could be read on her face. “You were right. Someone was smart enough to be suspicious. Kemsit…she hoped she would find your gold.”

  She nodded and clutched me. “What will you do now?”

  “Red spoke about my brother,” I said miserably. “I must ride there.”

  “You came here first?” she wondered. “Thank you.”

  I shook my head. “We need to get you to safety. Then I must go.”

  I took her to her new home, and then I jumped on the horse and rode to find war in my brother’s home.

  ***

  I left the gate guards behind with silver on their palms, and took the roads to the south, riding like a dark vaettir of Woden, through the dark woods. I rode Via Latina all that night, and most of the day. I passed drowsy waystations, postal booths, guard towers, villas where dogs alerted the whole family, and went through villages that seemed abandoned. I stopped only briefly to water and feed the horse.

  And when I got near Gernot’s villa, I knew I had failed. In the most horrible way.

  All their words echoed in my ears. All the warnings I had ignored, I heeded too late.

  I saw it was on fire.

  I saw a host of horses rushing around the yards, trampling orchards, and raising dust, and I heard women screaming. I saw several running away through the fields, only to be hunted down by few riders of Rome, gleefully whooping as they killed.

  I looked on in horror, as men were breaking in to sheds, and saw there were at least ten of them milling before the main doorway. There, men were yelling challenges.

  I rode forward, and one man, seeing my armor, rode to meet me.

  He was a young, snake-faced praetorian, and greeted me with a raised sword. “Morning. This place is off limits.” I ignored him. He frowned. “And who might you be? Wait…I have seen you somewhere. In a battle? You are…”

  I grunted and rode hard at him.

  He yelled with surprise, and then in pain, as I galloped past him and smashed my fist into his face.

  He fell, and I forgot about him as I rode for the house.

  I had no reason to be shy.

  I pulled out the secutor helmet, the skull of steel, and pressed it on my head. I drew the long falx, and then maneuvered toward a centurion sitting on a horse outside the doorway, silent, patient like a snake, and then, when I got to the yard, I simply charged him.

  He turned in his saddle, blanched, and pulled at a sword, but it did him no good.

  I swung the falx down, and the man fell over the horse, a great gash on his back.

  I vaulted from the horse and ran to the doorway.

  And nearly into a spear.

  I tugged at the spear, and the man with it to the falx, and kicked myself inside, in a terrible rage.

  I hacked at a mass of soldiers before me.

  I dropped them like wheat, as the terrible weapon, scratching the beams, took down two at a time. I ignored the horrified faces, young and old both, and the dead men they had already delivered to Hades, and instead, kept hacking. I stood amid a mass of them, butchering them like lambs, and then I saw Gochan, standing on a doorway, arrow on his chest, shield up, holding back four spearmen. Pig was with him, snarling at the foe.

  Beyond him, on the floor, three children were holding Gernot’s head, and a pretty woman was weeping.

  Gernot’s belly was red with blood.

  I remember little of what followed.

  I killed. I cared nothing for my life but smashed to the backs of those four men and sliced them up like wheat. Blood was spattered across the room, as I chased the bastards, Woden whispering to me rather than Lok, the shadow-dance strong in my ears. I spent my frustration, my rage on them, and cruelly left them limbless and bleeding, in heaps.

  When three of them ran away, one of them an optio, I ran after them.

  Outside, I hopped on a horse and rode down the men, one by one, hissing, spitting, and slaying.

  What horsemen remained saw me and escaped.

  I sat outside the hall for a long while.

  I held my head and wept.

  It would not bring him back. I could not even go back inside.

  Eventually, when it was late, I heard a woman speaking and saw Gochan stepping out, herding the children with some servants. Pig was carrying one, and he ignored me. Gerno
t’s wife came next and did not look up at me either, as if terrified.

  Gochan spoke with her softly, and she nodded, and they began walking for Misenium.

  He then turned to me. He squinted up at me, but I was watching the house and saw plumes of fire escaping the windows.

  “So,” Gochan said. “He once told me that it was only a matter of time before Fates caught up with him, for you are a perilous brother. He told me he was happy you two finally tolerated each other, that he was sorry for his part in all of it, and still, you live and he died.” He touched his chest and grimaced. “I will take over his business. He prepared me for it. But you, Hraban? You get nothing more. The house in Rome, and what you can find is yours. He owed you plenty, but I owe you nothing more than this. Go and suffer.”

  “It is well, brother,” I whispered. “I understand.”

  “We shall not meet again,” he told me. “Do not come to Ravenna. Do not seek us out.”

  He left, and eventually, I turned my horse around.

  I felt a dark hole inside my head and felt that all the years that had passed had taught me nothing.

  Now my vengeance had cost me my brothers.

  I turned my horse around and pulled the helmet off. I rode north, along less used paths, and wept.

  I would not be poor, though. There was a reason for saving Pompeia. She had often hinted she would let me have it.

  The gold.

  Pompeia would tell me where her gold was. That gold might have cost me Gernot.

  But that gold, I thought, would fuel my plans.

  Lok’s plans.

  I felt bile in my throat and tried to breath. I managed it, but only barely.

  I saw Gernot’s dead face in every tree and pond, and it seemed to me I rode back to Rome in very short time, though it likely took a long while.

  Gold.

  She owed me that much. I needed it for my plans.

  Then, we would move to where they would not think to look for us. They would, for he would not believe me dead, Sejanus. We would get a place there, near Misenium, and leave Rome for a while.