The Summer Sword

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The Summer Sword Page 14

by Alaric Longward


  He would have to deal with the issue of the Chatti in some other way for Gunda was already moving.

  I watched her as she took steps for me. I stood straight and then realized looking like a buffoon would likely do nothing to impress her.

  I looked at Segimundus, who was suffocating. It seemed like that, at least. He was holding his hand on the table and tried to speak but was unable.

  Gunda walked towards me.

  Her strong face twitched with amusement as she watched me. She had used her sight as an excuse not to marry anyone else, and now she had to choose between me and Segimundus. She had chosen. Adgandestrius was chuckling like a fool, and I wanted to kick him, but that would have spoiled the moment, so I stood still.

  She stopped below me, for she was short, and looked up at my eyes.

  I heard Alde taking a deep, ragged breath.

  I felt naked. Gunda’s light green eyes were scourging mine, as if she was reading all my past mistakes with a single glance. She was weighing, judging, and measuring a man so scarred, so evil, she could not fail to find a dozen reasons to laugh at me, to deny me, and to walk back to Segimundus.

  Then she smiled.

  It was an impish, happy grin, one made up of discovery, and I knew, somehow, she found all my flaws and sorrows acceptable. They were shadows she had expected, and a life she could build, and a man she could repair, a man who would not relegate her to the status of a priced horse or an ornament stood before her.

  “It is so,” she said softly, “that the Chatti and the Cherusci must be allies.” She turned to Armin and spoke evenly. “It is true, a marriage must seal it. Let Rhamis marry your relative, great Armin. I see glimpses of the future. Skuld’s thread sometimes runs before my eyes. Rhamis is the one.”

  Rhamis gasped, Arpus frowned, Aerumer growled, and Adgandestrius laughed.

  Armin was still silent, unravelling his plans in his mind.

  Everyone looked nervous, and some scared. Armin was staring at Gunda with furious rage bubbling just under the surface, and Arpus was openly angry, his mouth open with his teeth showing like a wolf might snarl at an errant pup.

  “Skuld knows,” she said softly, swaying, and Adgandestrius stepped next to her, hand on his sword’s hilt, “that Segimundus, the wisest, and most powerful man after Armin, must marry someone else. He must marry a woman younger than I am, and if he takes that path, rather than mine, he shall one day rule a great land, and his children shall follow him.”

  Rhamis was swaying on her feet, her eyes full of horror.

  There were murmurs and some shouts of wonder. Men like Ernust the Chauci, wise as any, and Helm the Bructeri got up to clap Segimundus’s back, and Armin watched them. Then he turned to Arpus, and Aerumer and the three began whispering.

  It would cost Armin terribly much to settle the mess I had created.

  To be fair, Gunda was equally guilty.

  Gunda frowned briefly at that and turned swiftly back. “To you, my lord, the great sword of Ebbe, the best sword in the land after Armin’s Summer Sword, the Red Wolf! And with it, I.”

  She lifted the great sword and handed it in my arms. I held it and felt its great balance. I saw Armin’s eyes on the sword, and then they closed in despair. He might have stopped the sword going to me, at least, had he not been distracted. So might have Arpus.

  That mistake would be even costlier for Armin. They would demand more for it, the Chatti would. They would give Armin less.

  None cheered us, but none stood to oppose us either.

  I watched the sword and the tiny nicks left by its previous battles. Each was a story of Ebbe’s kin. Each carried weight for the Chatti. None were my story.

  Until then.

  I had loved Ebbe well. The man had approved of me.

  I kneeled before Gunda and bowed before her, and she put her hand on my hair, and we both smiled. I felt Gervas nearby, hopping with joy, and Adalwulf was there with Adgandestrius, and Gochan was smiling, though he also watched an empty seat with some sadness.

  Alde had left.

  I closed my eyes, and begged Frigg she would forgive me.

  I got up and held the sword, until I heard a cheer and knew Arpus had agreed and more, Aerumer as well. Rhamis was shaking her head as her father walked for her.

  I felt hands grasping mine, and Gunda was there, pulling me back to my table. She sat on Alde’s place, and she spoke to Gervas, her eyes on mine.

  I was preparing. I had to speak to Armin.

  Indeed, in the general chaos where Rhamis was taken to Segimundus, the insulted, fool of a man, Armin walked out, and I followed and felt Adalwulf coming as well, close by.

  I walked past the Chatti, who looked away from me.

  Thusnelda was trembling and looking at Gunda.

  ***

  He watched me, as we walked in the snow. He was carrying a horn of mead, and he kept looking down at it, as if trying to find answers in the golden liquid. He was shaking his head and cursing so softly, I couldn’t hear the actual words. His lips were moving as if he was having an argument with himself.

  He stopped by a tree and leaned on it, and some snow fell on him from the branches above.

  He didn’t seem to notice. I stifled a chuckle.

  He noticed and stared at me with the look of a man about to whip an errant child.

  I squinted at him and watched the sky. Gray, billowing clouds were rushing from the north, and trees were swaying softly under a blanket of diminishing snow. It was twirling in the air, and I suppressed shivers of cold.

  “I wonder how Segestes is doing?” I murmured. “Will you send him mead again? His own?”

  Armin had, for he had captured Segestes’s mead year past.

  He said nothing, sipped from his horn, and leaned back to the tree.

  “They say he misses that mead terribly,” I murmured.

  “They captured a Roman messenger,” Armin said. “Another one.”

  I nodded. I had heard.

  “He was carrying more messages,” he said tiredly. “From Tiberius. It seems Rome thinks their mail is immune, eh? In that message, is indicated how Segestes told them everything about our troubles and plans. It is a damning thing, and it is circulating across the land now. It is the second such scroll.”

  I shrugged. “Well. It was expected.”

  “That Roman rider, a Batavi, was a fool,” he said, “and was captured and tortured, and he spoke of Germania as if it had been already conquered. All the adelings heard it. All of them. They were frightened and then looked at each other and listened to me, and things are going very well. The cause is clear. You were wrong. Chauci and I have made oaths. Ernust bent a knee before me. Imagine that.”

  “So happy to hear it, lord,” I said. “It is a true comfort. I didn’t notice them talking about the scroll, either one, but I am sure you are right about the cause.”

  He stared at me and mulled the horn. It had been warmed, the wine inside. He drank it and stared inside it. “You are a Raven, well-named,” he said. “You come to a feast, and happiness turns into rot. Men smiled. Women were happy. They admired me and cheered me. And you dimmed the golden shine of their Summer Sword. What did you do, Hraban? Arpus is not bending his knee after all. He promises things, but he says the oath cannot be given now. They might, or might not let me lead, but they don’t have to. This mead tastes like ash, Hraban. I should gut you. You bastard.”

  I watched him. “I fell in love again.”

  He spat.

  I sighed. “Lord. I have a troubled soul. Indeed, the family curse is designed to bring chaos to Midgard.”

  “The others,” he hissed, “might have bent their knees as well. Arpus was the key. And now? The marriage is not enough. Chatti had to humble themselves. Everyone should have seen it. We go to war where they might go home and disregard my plans. Chauci will not be enough.”

  I laughed softly. “You think a bent knee of Ernust guarantees his men won’t go home to feast if they so wish? I told yo
u. You need to be a king of their hearts, and they have to see and feel—"

  He shook his head and I was quiet. His face looked angry and violence was brewing under his skin. I saw Adalwulf not far, and I knew Horse-Arse and Grip were not far either.

  Then he spoke calmly. “You have had a woman who has sight, and now soon a wife who claims to glimpse at Skuld’s threads,” he said. He smiled ironically. “Tell me; shall we win this coming summer? How much damage did you do to our plans?”

  I opened my mouth to assure him we would. I spoke the truth, instead. “You are afraid.”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  I watched him. He wasn’t lying. He feared the wolf he had wounded.

  “None can say how a battle will go,” I said. “Gunda, Alde. They see nothing really. We must not underestimate the…man.”

  “No,” he agreed. “I will lure him. I shall lure him with the eagles. The rumor has been planted.”

  I nodded. I had suspected as much. Eagles had to be restored to Rome, the Germani held them, and Armin was playing on Roman pride. Rome would know they had mocked the eagles in this Yule-Feast.

  “Marsi?” I asked.

  “Marsi,” he agreed. “I will let Rome know they have them. It is close enough for them to move there fast. Marsi will hold their one in their caves near Castra Flamma, and Rome will know where it is. I will make sure they will know. There will be surprises for them. We shall meet the enemy there, in the woods and marshes. It will go well.” He smiled uncertainly. “The baiting part, I mean.”

  “As long as we show up,” I told him. “And fight. It will go very well. As you said, you have the men now.”

  He stretched his back and leaned to give me the horn. I took it, sipped it and gave it back. He was smiling gently, and I knew he was about to punish me. “You failed me. You ruined my plans. I will endure it. I must. I shall pretend everything is well. You are to be married, then. You just suddenly decided to fuck with my plans, for the sake of pride? Gunda. She said once that you two would be married. She told Ebbe this. And you couldn’t sit back and let Segimundus have her. Imagine, Hraban, that she had been an obedient girl, and you had been left humiliated. Segimundus shall be scarred for life. I am.”

  “Scars make a man,” I said. “He didn’t challenge me.”

  “Challenge you?” he asked. “Oh, he wants to live. Did you know?” he asked. “Have you agreed on this with her?”

  “No, of course not,” I said. “You agreed on it with Arpus.”

  He was tapping on his horn. “You are a fool. You know your father is seeking to punish you. Taking a wife is another way for him to punish you. You could have been happy with the Sarmatian girl. What do you think she will do? I hear they don’t take well to men who cheat on them.”

  “She is not happy,” I said softly.

  He laughed and shook his head. “Lok’s balls, but I dislike the chaos you sow. The harvest is sure to be terrible. Marriage for you, then.”

  “It seems so,” I said. “I shall marry her for your honor. I am your war-lord, after all. I am of high blood, Armin, and they are honored. They should be.”

  He chuckled. “Arpus wasn’t honored. Aerumer even less so. Segimundus is not ever going to be pleased with even Rhamis, no matter her blood or beauty. Segimundus will agree, but he won’t forget this humiliation. He has been of help to me. And you…”

  “I have bled for you,” I said. “That’s what I have done. Many times.”

  “And you have bled me,” he smiled. “You bleed for me, and then you bleed me. I like men who do only the former and never the latter. I need no balance between service and betrayal. I need simply service.”

  “I shall not mention you holding Lif prisoner and how I forgave you,” I told him.

  He stared at me balefully and shrugged. “I will elevate him to a war-chief,” he said. “One of the highest ones. He shall guard my lands as we go to war. He’ll sit in the Black Lodge and he’ll guard the lands.”

  “And what of us?” I asked.

  He rubbed his face. “You shall be what you are. A rabid dog. I shall use you in the worst of places. You will repay me, Hraban, by fighting in fire and blood. You shall leave Gunda and your son in your hall when you go to war. Adalwulf and you, your Gochan shall be out there, fighting, and my Donor shall keep an eye on them.” He smiled. “We must, after all, guard your new wife who ties us all together.”

  I straightened my back. “I shall take her and Gervas with me as I serve you.”

  He stared at me with fury and threw the horn to my feet. “You think to defy me again?”

  I put my hand on my sword’s hilt. “I shall not leave my woman behind, ever again. Let your Donor come, then, and keep an eye on us. Gervas will not be separated from me either. I serve you, but I shall not be punished like this.”

  He spat. “Very well. After the summer, you shall live with the Chatti. You are banished from my villages. You go and come as I please, and you will stay far from Segimundus. He shall rule the Black Lodge when I am gone, and Donor is going to help him. Tell me, Hraban, what use will you be to me in the future?”

  I shook my head. “I shall kill Germanicus.”

  “Thusnelda,” he said with anger, “is always hoping you ride away, far away, or die honorably in battle. She hoped last summer that you find a wife, that you would get to know your son, and now she is sad. She sees you will bring none of them happiness, Hraban. Never cross me again, as you did today. And if you try to send your son or wife away, I shall set Donor on their tails. Do not give me reason to doubt your loyalty, any more than I do.”

  “If I live with the Chatti,” I said irascibly, “I doubt he can keep an eye on me.”

  He spat. “After we defeat Germanicus, I do not care what you do. Until then, you are mine. This coming year, we must still endure each other. If the war goes on, Donor’s men will keep an eye on you. Aye, even in the lands of the Chatti. I have no trust for you.”

  “Same Donor I led for you to the jaws of Rome,” I said. “He must be careful. Woods are dangerous.”

  “He makes them dangerous,” Armin said, and then put a hand over his eyes, trying to calm himself. “You are a pestilence. One that occasionally slays my enemies but is ever making me sick when there is no battle to be won.”

  I bowed.

  He kicked snow at me. “Next year will show what kind of war this will be,” he said forcefully. “Tiberius held his triumph over Pannonia in Rome last year, did you know?”

  I shrugged. “I was here.”

  He gave me a long look. “And Germanicus was commanded to govern Gaul and to lead the army here in the north. He is to kill me and recover the eagles. He won’t leave, unless dead. Rome loves him, and yet, if he loses his war, it will love him less.” He closed his eyes and prayed it would come to pass. “Tiberius is grooming him to rule. He was allowed to share in the glory of Triumph of Tiberius, where Drusus the Younger was not. He must be humbled and killed. We shall learn many things this next summer. It will be interesting, if nothing else. You and Adalwulf shall be in the forefront of it.” He shook his head. “It seems your wife and son as well. Think of your choices. They are safe here.”

  I shook my head. “Nobody is safe anywhere. Not one of us. My father and Germanicus both want me dead. They want you dead as well. But I shall use this for you, Armin, no matter insults, and Donor guarding me.”

  I placed a hand over the great sword on my side.

  “The Red Wolf,” he smiled. “May it be a great omen for a glorious summer, though it should have gone to Segimundus.” He walked off and then turned. “In March, you will take your men to the west, and you will camp with the Tencteri near Xanten. I will pay for your dowry, by the way. It will not be cheap. I hope you deliver on your promises. If not, I shall punish you. You need no more enemies.”

  “But you need the Chatti,” I told him. “And they love me well.”

  He walked away.

  ***

  Later, very late, a C
hatti vitka led us out. He was called Libys, and he was a cleanshaven man in gray robe, an oak wand loose in his hand. He smiled benevolently, and he spoke to Gunda. Adalwulf’s men were close around us. He rode on and turned to Gunda. “Will you truly marry this man?” He winked at me. “He just spat on a hall-full of northern adelings. You might marry a bear, just as well.”

  She smiled, having feasted, and squinted at him unsteadily, a bit drunk. “Libys, my friend. I shall marry a bear, if you do not hurry. The fur would keep me warm.”

  She was shivering, and not only for the cold.

  He grinned. “I shall give Woden’s blessing on your union anyway. Armin has requested it be done in privacy, and now.” He nodded to the woods beyond. “There, a hall for you two.”

  I looked at the woods and saw a man riding out of it, stopping, and riding back.

  One of Donor’s? Or perhaps not even a Cherusci.

  Adalwulf’s men were around us, but not everywhere.

  The man shrugged as he saw my worries. “I am sure it could have been anyone. But you made no friends this night, Hraban. It was expected, no?”

  I nodded. We rode to the woods, and in light of very early morning, we came to a small iced over pond, where we stopped.

  The vitka hopped down, spry and restless, and waded to the side, where a hall was erected under some snow-plagued birches.

  I sat on the horse and watched him kneeling in the snow, blessing the place in the name of Donor, the guardian of men. I realized Gunda was watching me as Adalwulf’s men were riding around the place, looking at the woods.

  “My brother,” she said softly, as she sat next to me, “has always liked you. I think he is very happy.”

  I nodded. “He told me you have ever staved off marriages by pretending you are meant for me.”

  She smiled and blushed. “It is a small ruse of mine.” I snorted. She rolled her eyes. “A large one, I admit. I never was attracted to those they offered me. There were many. Your brother Gernot was one.”

  I grunted. “He is now in Rome. He dabbles in shipping, wheat, and crime, no doubt. He is doing well. Better than I am.”

 

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