The Summer Sword

by Alaric Longward

  “Is the man called Catualda?” I asked.

  He nodded, surprised. “You know him then? Of course, you do! He is your relative. It is Catualda, son of Bero, uncle to Maroboodus. As I said, he is crazy. None but his kind dares speak against Maroboodus. Mad people.”

  I nodded and thought about it all for a long time.

  My plan was getting more complex, more dangerous. It could still work. On my game board, I had no idea what the pieces did, and how powerful they were, and I still didn’t know all of them, but I would play the game. I thought about father, and I thought about the new piece in the puzzle, and then I fit him in.

  I watched Gervas, who nodded at me.

  I looked away, terrified.

  Could Tiberius be trusted?

  “A fine son,” Vannius said. “Looks like you.”

  “He looks like my wife,” I said. “And—”

  “I had one,” he told me. “I am young, so I can have another. Illness…”

  “Listen,” I said. “These are the things I ask of you,” and then I spoke to him at length. To his credit, he didn’t gasp, scream, or complain, He listened silently and nodded. It was not a bad deal. It was a fine one. He would risk nothing until we would succeed. And it wasn’t likely.

  In the end, he nodded.

  That night, he rode away, guided by Gochan’s men.

  Gochan had listened to my plan on toppling Maroboodus with wide eyes, and he was not happy. The plan he understood. But he would have to fight a war with Rome to get that far. He would also have to win. He was happier when he learnt about the ambush we would make.

  ***

  The next morning the great town of Armin came to sight in the west.

  We would not go there.

  We would go to a place chosen by Donor. His men appeared, armored and noble, and spoke with Segimundus.

  We rode southwest. The Sarmatian families would camp in the woods and we would leave them behind.

  The sprawling, rich fields and woods spread out before us. We rode in silence and under the boughs of the pines, guided by Donor’s men, and we crossed the river in a very remote place, miles and miles away from the town. People saw us but went about their business. We rode until the scout and Segimundus stopped us near a peaceful valley between wooded hills.

  Gochan’s men had been scouting, and they were swarming around us.

  I saw the burg of Segestes, not that far away to southeast. It was surprisingly close, and the valley was on the way to the west, to the Bructeri and Tubantes.

  It was a pleasant, peaceful place.

  Segimundus rode to us. He spoke softly. “Donor says this is a great place for killing work, and I agree. I shall go to Armin, and we shall hope my father is in the dark and suspects nothing. We will make all the preparations. You camp here for a few days.”

  So, we camped. Adalwulf and his men were soon happy and relaxed, and the Sarmatians got to know every tree in the area. Gochan and the Young Wolf made sure of it.

  Alde, however, didn’t. She hovered near me, smiling.

  I was cleaning my sword the morning after our camp-making and saw her squatting nearby. She was relieving herself, and when she was done, she brazenly adjusted her gear, leaving little to imagination. I shook my head and scrubbed the blade until I realized she was now near and sitting on a log.

  “What,” I asked her, “did you mean when you said you should guard me?”

  She smiled. “I am not happy with what you did to my sister, half or not, but my sight doesn’t lie.”

  “If I need a guard, does that mean someone will try to kill me?” I asked. “It might be someone who is unhappy with what I did to their sister.”

  She blinked. “Of course, people will try to kill you.”

  “And you can save me?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I saw you lack people you trust. I see you will trust me. You need a friend in the times ahead. I shall save you, and your boy many times over.” She smiled. “I saw we shall be good friends. I don’t like your deeds, but we shall be that. I have seen it.”

  I hesitated, and she smiled. She was perhaps thirty-five, and tough as a rock. She was a no-nonsense, practical warrior, but also a woman. I could not miss that part.

  Sight. I hate sight. Gervas? She would save Gervas?

  I pushed away the thought.

  I sighed. “How,” I asked him, “is your sister?”

  I didn’t ask her more about her sight.

  She grunted. “She might survive,” she said darkly. “But when you ask how is she? How are anyone of us, really? We are cursed. It is a very unfortunate state of affairs, Hraban, this business with Maroboodus. Our family was born to hate your father. Tamura the Cripple, our mother, ever cursed Maroboodus only cut her leg and didn’t finish it. Of course, we would have never been born, so I suppose we owe him some thanks. My sister might survive the wounds. But we won’t survive this constant fighting amongst ourselves.”

  “Don’t thank Maroboodus,” I said. “The Bear doesn’t see anything but an opportunity in gratitude.”

  She smiled. “I guess you are right. Will you speak with her? Borena? Look, there is something I need to tell you. It is about—”

  I got up and dusted myself off. I walked away.

  She blinked. “What, now?”

  “Aye, now,” I said. “Why not now?”

  She rushed after me, and I walked to the Sarmatian camp, nodding at men who were grinning at me. I saw the tent, slightly whiter one than others, and knew she would be there. I dodged inside and felt Alde’s hands scraping along my back.

  I saw why she had tried to stop me.

  Gervas was seated behind Borena. Borena, pained, was leaning on an elbow and looked up at me, her red hair spreading under her. She was naked, and Gervas had been looking at the wound in her back. With him, there was a bare-chested Sarmatian woman with almost white hair helping him. I stared at them. I rubbed my face. “She is well over forty! No. Wait. She is a relative!”

  Gervas went red of face, and Borena stared at me balefully. “Your son is a man of great heart. He is not trying to bed me. We are related, you damned fool! We are aware of it!”

  “But—”

  “He feels he owes me something for what you did. I am thankful to him. He is as uncomfortable over this as any Germani man would be, but he is still helping, and of course he is not trying to bed me!”

  I cursed my son and squatted near her. Then I watched the young woman next to Borena. She was quite beautiful.

  Damned boy.

  I shook my head at her. “I am sorry for your husband.”

  She sneered. “I tried to stop him,” she whispered. “You cannot stop my husband.”

  I nodded. “He fought well.”

  She smiled sadly. “He would have fought better alone. I made a mess of it. He made mistakes, and I did as well. Beware my brother. You see what he did to his own sister.”

  “You shared oaths,” I said.

  “He broke mine,” she said. “We served Vannius and he…I owe him little. To leave Vannius like that?” She shook her head. “We are just mercenaries now.”

  “You are,” I agreed. “But valuable ones.”

  She was sweating with pain as she moved to find a better position. “My brother and I hate each other. We were ever uncomfortable in our relationship, but now? He took my husband. First my son, and now…”

  I shrugged. “Armin has plenty of opportunities for brave warriors. Perhaps later you could break off?”

  She grinned. “Perhaps? It is a matter of time until he kills me. Or the other way around.” Her eyes hardened. “You chose him and gave him a gift. I believe you if you say you didn’t think he would make me fight. Alas, I am not sure you didn’t guess my husband would be chosen, though. That I find hard to forgive.”

  I pursed my lips together and hissed, “I would have fought Gochan, if not for Adalwulf.”

  She waved her hand and looked crestfallen. “Gods had it decided this way, Hr
aban. I shall heal, perhaps.” She turned to look at my son. “Now, Gervas. Are you in your father’s warband?”

  He shook his head. “My father has you now. He has no other band. I have been…adrift.”

  “Then you do not need his permission to meet a relative or her servant,” she said scathingly. The servant looked down and blushed. “I shall invite you again. For now, you can both go. The wound bleeds and it cannot be helped.”

  He got up, not ashamed at the least, and walked out. The servant, pulling on a tunic, followed. She had had nothing below either.

  He bumped into me as he left.

  Borena grinned softly. “He is like you, brother.”

  “Why was the girl without a tunic?” I said. “He has ever missed family, for I…” I waved my hand at her state. “Naked. She was naked. You are! Nearly all the way! Why do you seek friendship with a boy whose father killed your husband and nearly you? Why do you use your servant to seduce him?”

  She snorted. “He is lost. You said it. He has no family worth mentioning. And I wasn’t trying to have him seduced. I have no grudge against him. In Roxolani tribes,” she said, “women have no reason for shame or modesty. She was hot, Hraban. We need not explain ourselves. We rule just as well as men. We build a family, we rule men, we raise the family, and we fight. He was looking at my servant, not at my ass. I invited him because he is family. In our tribes, family gets to know each other. Who raised your son? Adrift he said?”

  “Him?” I asked. “I—his mother. Until…”

  “Does he have one now? A mother?”

  I shook my head.

  She was silent and stared at me with a cold look. Her hands were twitching, and then she was caressing her leg, splinted. “A man should be married, and a boy should have a mother. I do not hate him. I rather like his honesty. He is much like my son was.” She winced as she moved. “You crashed on my leg. You jumped on me.”

  “Whatever it takes to win,” I said. “You were trying to stick a lance up my arse. I do wonder, sister, if you and I can make our peace. Gochan too.”

  She laughed softly. “Oh, you think to balance our animosity? We have far too long a history for that.” She shook her head. “I shall not ride for months. Only then you need to worry about me. Your son is safe.”

  I cursed and fingered my sword. “We made an oath to kill my father with Gochan. Will you join this oath, sister?”

  She shook her head sadly. “So much you hate him, when you could live your own lives instead. Alas. Leave now and be kind to your son. He is not a bad boy. You cannot guard him forever. And he is safe from me. If he beds my servant, it is none of your concern. He is a handsome boy. Not scarred yet either. I shall not join your oaths, though I will fight this war with the rest.”

  She leaned back, her naked body gleaming with sweat and pain. I closed my eyes and went to find Gervas.

  I crashed into him.

  He regarded my eyes and took a step back. He opened his mouth, then realized he was trembling and balled his fists. “She is a relative, Father. I wouldn’t—”

  “The servant, then,” I said. “You know what might happen, if some old breed Germani chief saw you alone with a naked girl, especially if she is married to someone else or about to be?”

  He looked at me mulishly.

  “I tell you this now, son,” I told him. “You shall be careful with her.”

  He blinked and looked at Alde, who was walking back and forth, not far.

  “What exactly do you mean, Father?” he asked. “Are you careful with that one? She seems to look at you like she would like to—”

  I rubbed my eyes and snapped my fingers to shut him up. I sized him up and spoke at length. “I have not been a good father. To be fair, Gervas, not many fathers have to struggle so much to keep their family alive. Gisil and Cassia raised you, and Adalwulf trained you, and I don’t know what I can tell you of our dilemma. I don’t know how much Adalwulf has told Wulf.”

  “Nothing,” he whispered. “We often wonder.”

  I looked at him and sighed. “Where, Gervas, do you want to live?”

  “With my kin,” he said without a pause. “In glory and famous enough for Woden to take note.”

  I laughed bitterly. “Gods above and below! This is a curse. You sound as stupid as I ever did.”

  He looked hurt and kept his chin raised. “Do you ask me not to meet with her?”

  “Borena?” I hissed.

  “Her too!” he roared. “And her servants.”

  I rubbed my face. “Borena. She is an enemy! It was not by my choice.”

  He shifted his mail. There was a hilt of a dagger there. “I am no fool. I ask nothing from you, save for some trust.”

  “Trust,” I said. “Trust me as well.” I watched him. “With your kin, eh? Not in Rome?”

  He blinked. “Do you mean where would I live? In Rome? Why would I…you…” He took a long breath. “I live where you want me to live. I know there is war coming. I will fight it with you, and then you decide what we shall do. But you need to trust me. Eventually you must tell me everything.”

  I smiled and wondered what he would think of my plan.

  I clasped a hand on his shoulder and shook him “Since you know Borena is relative, and a Sarmatian, and I know nothing of their manners, but perhaps something of their goals, you shall meet with her and defy me, but you shall not bed your kin.”

  He blushed. “I know! The servant—”

  “Good,” I said, and walked off.

  “You mean…” he said and walked after me and leaned close. “You now want me to be close to her?”

  Woden keep him safe.

  I nodded. “Make her an ally, and not an enemy,” I told him. “Don’t get killed in the process.”

  Alde was walking for me.

  “Father, I—” he called out.

  “Meet Borena at your own peril,” I snarled, and Alde joined me. We walked to a small pond, where I washed my face and cursed again.

  Alde was there, a puzzled look on her face. “You know, she is not going to avenge her husband, the dolt they called the Boulder. I—”

  “I hope so,” I said, and begged gods I was right. “Is it your sight that makes you see so deep into her heart?”

  She shook her head. “I know her. She is my half-sister. She raised us when mother couldn’t. You need healing, Hraban,” she said. “You see enemy everywhere. And you need a guard. You need someone to guard you. Someone other than Adalwulf. I can help. I have no Borena to be my company, and Ourbazo loves wine and ruffians better than—”

  She went quiet.

  I raised my head and saw Ourbazo riding in with a group of men. Germani, Celts, and others, they were his own band of evil. They were men with feuds, and unpaid wergilds, they lived in the hidden halls and the hills. They had a village or two, dens for scums, but they were usually shunned by men. They wore feathers and painted their faces black and white, wore armor and hefted shields of all kinds, and they were men whom Ourbazo loved well. They were the sort of men who were always anxious and looking for trouble. They were listening to Ourbazo with rapt attention. One, an old, fat man with an ax, looked at me with unbridled hostility, and I looked down and smiled.

  Woden loved me.

  Alde spoke, and I looked back up at the Young Wolf. She was speaking with a low voice, looking at Ourbazo with disapproval. “Borena is upset our oaths were broken. She is broken because of that. I can live with Gochan’s decisions. But Ourbazo? He is as unpredictable as the wind. He likes such men as you see there. He leads ours well enough, but he likes to break away from Gochan’s influence and ride the land. They flock to him, and he seeks them. These are bounty hunters, killers, and thieves, and he makes some coin with them. Many hold bases in a village called Rot Wood. It was near the place where we were holed up in. Bad men know how to find it. Bounty hunters are needed to settle feuds in Germania.”

  I nodded. “Why do they follow him? He is so young.”

  “W
hy?” she asked. “In Hermanduri lands he hunted men for Roman gold and silver, and he is an excellent bounty hunter. It is his hobby when Gochan doesn’t need him. I don’t know why they follow him.”

  I looked at the Young Wolf, who was chuckling at some crude joke from the fat man.

  “He is very good with a sword,” she said. “Very good.”

  “You had the same father?” I asked.

  She nodded. She was silent, pondering, and then she was startled out of her thoughts as I washed my face.

  I looked at her. “I accept you as a guard, Alde. I do not know how you will stand me, or my manners, but I believe in your sight. Keep me and him safe. Is there anything I can offer you while you suffer me?”

  Then she surprised me.

  She sat there, her mouth slightly open, and then she seemed to make up her mind on something. She smiled and got up and began shedding her armor. She was fast, the boiled leather plate falling from her perfect body in pieces, and her wide hips swinging, she kneeled next to me and kissed me. I hesitated, and caressed her belly, then I lifted her on my lap, closed my eyes. I saw Cassia, again in the shore of the gray river, and opened my eyes, and watched Alde.

  “My gods,” she whispered, “says we shall be lovers.”

  She was dangerously close to her gods. Or madness. And still, I desired her.

  For Gervas, I had to push away Cassia’s ghost for a while, and pretend I lived.

  And perhaps, I lived a bit. With Hild, I had found release. With Alde, I found passion.

  That night, I bedded Alde on pine needles, and on nights to follow, we shared a tent.

  I was throwing dice with fate and begged gods I knew how to make the game as unfair as possible.

  In two days, Donor’s man rode to camp. That night, we broke it and prepared.

  Segestes had taken the bait.

  CHAPTER 6