He stood there, admonished. He lifted his chin, and his golden hair hung around his shoulders as he swayed. “Donor and Sigambri have feuds against you, Hraban. I cannot change that. I will not stop them. Donor and thirty of his best men do not want wergild. They will kill you if there is no war. It is his right. Some of my adelings have made pledges as well. Segimundus speaks against you in every Thing we have had. They all think you bring us bad luck.”
“Let him come to me, then,” I told him. “Let all your adelings bluster. I would not any of a single cow or Roman gold coin of wergild, so it is better I pay them in steel and iron. I shall watch Donor’s men and your unnamed adelings. I shall watch Segimundus as well.”
Donor glowered, and Arpus lifted his hand. “Enough, please. He is here, and he is with us, as you wished. Have you any news?”
Armin took a ragged breath and shook his head. “Rome is jubilant. We are beaten. It is war. Our alliance stands still stands fast, for we lost no true battles.”
His face betrayed something else.
Arpus shook his head. “Fast. The adelings left you without orders. I stayed, and some others, and still, they left. The alliance is not fast, but unruly.”
Armin spoke strongly. “It is. The Chatti have the discipline and the traditions to forget your freedoms in times of war and to obey one man. The rest need to learn. We have, it seems, another year to do so. If only you gave me the oaths you promised…”
Arpus ignored that last part. “And will this Germanicus,” Arpus wondered, “not find another surprise for us? It seems to me he has all the advantages. He can choose where to attack, whether or not to ignore your lures, when to attack. He can play to the weakness of our allies, and offer—”
“He has time,” I said, “but cannot lose too many men.”
The Chatti nodded, and Armin shrugged, unwilling to concede my point. “We need victories. In the end, we shall be free. Peace between us now, Arpus. It is with Hraban—"
“Free to do what?” Arpus wondered. “To walk in your shadow, and see you build a—”
Aerumer, dark and angry, shook his head. “Thiuda, cousin. We have marriages. We are allied. Come what may.”
Arpus rubbed his eyes. “We shall wait for your orders, Armin. We do not bend a knee. But your man shall not seek justice in my halls.”
Donor stepped forward. “Let it be out in the woods then. I do not mind.”
I spat at his feet, turned, and walked out.
I didn’t go far.
Armin had followed.
He saw me waiting, hesitated, and walked to me. He stood before me and looked at my brooding eyes. His eyes flashed as he held a hand on the pommel of his golden-hilted sword. “They will live? Is that what you said? Gunda and Gervas will survive.”
“I didn’t say that. They might,” I said. “Perhaps. Gunda is badly hurt.”
She was. She was recovering, and very slowly. Gervas was walking already, Wulf at his side. And still, he too had had fever last week.
We had not spoken about Borena with Gervas. He had not spoken to me at all.
Armin watched me. He had a question in his eyes. I shook my head. “I do not know who serves my father in your halls.”
His expression darkened. “That is not as important as what Adalwulf told me and what you just mentioned. Germanicus and Maroboodus were in on it together? Aye? We cannot have him fighting against us. He has ever been careful not to go to war, but when he does? He is a bad enemy.”
I agreed. “I know him well. You need not teach me about him.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I have responsibilities, Hraban. I find kingship a burden.”
“You have help,” I said. “And you love the attention.”
He stiffened with anger. “You say I am corrupt?”
“Summer Sword, you call yourself, Armin,” I sneered. “I remember the bloodier days in your history, the sadder ones.”
His eyes flashed. “Tell me about your father before I say something we cannot take back.”
I nodded to the east. “Did you know Maroboodus is trying to reach up to the north?”
“He has his amber road,” Armin said. “And he has allies in Hermanduri. They all go north from his lands. He has ever—”
“He is,” I told him, “trying to sit over Semnones and Langobardi as well, both. He is threatening them with war, and they dare not resist, for he is of the oldest Suebi blood. They fear him, his riches, his influence, and how can they stand against someone of the old blood, who even has the Draupnir’s Spawn. The old ring.”
He watched me with rapt attention. “He has it.”
I shrugged. “He claims to have it. Do you have a chance against Germanicus?”
He closed his eyes. He looked uncertain. Armin’s glory was fading. “If your father joins this war?” He shook his head.
I looked at him and thought of the plans I had made.
Germanicus had stolen a year of victory.
“What will you do about it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I will speak with him, come spring. Then we shall fight.”
“I can deal with my father,” I said. “He will not dare join war against you. Possibly, if motivated, he might join you.”
He looked suspicious and then sneered. “It is enough he stays away. Only if we must…then we try to sway him to our side. It will be costly. It will cost me…”
“Everything,” I said.
That is what Father would want.
To rule over a king.
For now, I had to make sure he didn’t join Germanicus. I had a plan, indeed.
“How?” he asked. “How would you deal with him?”
“How?” I asked. “I shall deal with it in the spring. It, and other things, Armin.”
He nodded and walked past me. He was deep in his thoughts, and Donor followed him. He passed me warily. His eyes were dark and angry, and I knew he would have to kill me. His honor demanded it. I had killed his men. I had kept him prisoner. I winked at him and he turned away in fury.
Armin climbed on his horse and turned in his saddle. “Hraban.”
I looked at him. “Lord?”
“We shall fight in Luppia next year,” he said. “You are not needed. I shall deal with your father. I truly think it is for the best. You serve me, and I do not release you. Neither do I want to see you. Stay here. And watch out for Ourbazo. He was seen riding in my lands with a band of scum they call Raven Catchers. He has not given up.” He looked away. “I am sorry for what I did. Or didn’t do. And for what others have done. But you went too far.” He shifted in his saddle as he rode off slowly. “Did you know Hraban? About Tiberius?”
Had he died?
“When he took over,” he called out, “he killed Julia. Starved her to death. He killed Postumus as well. It seems he silences all the people who might one day harm him. I imagine you carry some of his secrets. Watch out for him too.”
I watched him ride out. The Summer Sword went to prepare for his victory. I was exiled.
I would never again be loved in Cherusci halls. Songs about me, the new ones about my valor, were forgotten. Armin thought to raise his bright sword and win, but he was overconfident, and he needed me.
I needed time to think.
BOOK 3: THE KING
“So it begins. We are bastards. If the gods receive us, Hraban, they shall curse us to Hel’s lap when they find out what was done.”
Adalwulf to Hraban
CHAPTER 14
What followed was one year of fear, and calm. The Yule Tide passed and I, exile, stayed in Mattium and watched Gunda healing and happy every other week, and every other, she seemed ill. The wound in her shoulder was festering and she spat blood, and there were the times I thought she had passed.
I despaired, and loved her, and lay next to her. Libys cared for the wound, and I helped.
I ignored feasts, and guests and simply took care of her. I lay next to her still in the spring, when the snows melted
.
Gochan was guarding us, his men growing fat and bored, and I let him deal with everything. I had given him orders and he had succeeded in some and failed in others.
When the summer brought warmth to the land, Gunda finally got up, and walked on her own.
It was then when Adalwulf came to me, and sat down on the stairs of the stable, where I had been resting.
Summer had also brought war.
I watched him, and Wulf, who was riding in Mattium with his guards. Adalwulf sat down and grasped his face and rubbed it. “Well. You want to know?”
I nodded. “As long as they are good news. I could do with less bad ones.”
He grunted. “I hear the Chatti leave soon. For Luppia. And they intend to make you the guardian of the city.”
I toyed with my sword’s edge. “It is true. Well. I have the fine sword. And as I am not welcome in the war…it is also a good chance to see what men Donor and Ourbazo have in the land.”
He chuckled. “Plenty of men. Donor’s men keep an eye on you. On the rest of us as well. There are Raven Catchers too. The filth slip away when approached. Ourbazo survived the winter. As for the news?”
“Let me have it,” I said, and watched Gunda walking to sit next to our hall. People were greeting her, and her weakness made them grave.
“Maroboodus doesn’t talk to Armin,” he said. “He didn’t see him. He didn’t receive Helm, or Segimundus either. Thusnelda has been begging for him to talk to Armin. She asked Armin to send you. Armin has been terribly humiliated.”
I grunted. “I bet Maroboodus would love to see me. I doubt he would speak with me, though. But I can make him more willing to meet Armin. We just need someone first. Vannius?”
He shook his head. “I hear he is looking for our man.”
“The war,” I asked. “How are they doing?”
“The Bructeri eagle is Armin’s lure,” he said. “They are holding it elsewhere, in a shrine to Frigg in the Bructeri lands. They will pretend it will be in Tanfana this year with the Marsi one. They hope the enemy will come. They will. Germanicus has prepared all his legions. They will fight a savage war. I wonder if they will try anything odd this year. I do not know.” He grunted. “Shall we talk about it?”
I watched Gunda, and Wulf, and Gervas. “Tiberius?”
He nodded. “It is true. I asked Flavus. I saw him. I have a boy waiting to take message to him from you. He wants to hear from you, directly, but he knows you cannot leave. What will you do? What will we? We cannot serve Tiberius here in Mattium. I cannot catch an eagle while exiled.”
“We can serve him here. Should we?” I said.
He leaned back. “All the trouble, Hraban would be half-wasted. All our plans. He was the one man we should trust. Stone-Jaws. Drusus, only less happy. Victim, not the killer. They are dead. Julia. Postumus. Do you trust him?”
I shook my head. “I know not. I wish Gunda had sight. She doesn’t. Libys could ask spirits, but they lie.” I nodded. “But I shall have to serve him. I cannot betray him. I will give him what he wants and needs as agreed. If we keep our side of the bargain, he has no reason to hunt us later. As for the boys?” I shrugged. “We have options. We discussed them when we sat down in Rome and talked about this.”
He grunted. “How will we escape Mattium?”
I grunted. “Armin will find he needs us. First; we shall make sure we are back in the war, though not this year. This year Armin will find his summers are not always bright. Tell Flavus this for me. Send the boy and tell him they are my words and he should heed them. Tell him where the eagle really is. He must let Germanicus know. The bastard must believe him.”
He looked at me hard.
I twisted my fingers. “Your conscience is as heavy as mine. Armin needs to lose this year. Germani need to lose. He needs to be smeared in shit and they will have to humble the hero. Then, next year, if he yet lives, we shall make him a king. War king, or king made by sorrow, tears, and war. As I planned. But this year, he must lose an eagle, and his pride. He will lose more next year, but also, perhaps, he shall also defeat our enemy. “
He nodded. “I shall let Flavus know.”
I was looking at my hands. “Tell Flavus that after the war season, in Yule, he should tell Germanicus I intend to stay in Mattium next year as well. That I am happy here. Tell him also that Germanicus is reaching out to Maroboodus. That I am trying to solve it.”
He nodded again and got up, stretching his back. He smiled down at me. “It will be a peaceful year for you.”
“Tell Vannius he must find this man for us,” I said. “It will be hard to solve our trouble otherwise with Maroboodus. He agreed. Remind him.”
He nodded and left.
Gunda and I spent the summer in love, and planning.
By July, the Chatti returned home. The Bructeri had been surprised, and an eagle had been taken. The Chauci in Armin’s army had left the field after skirmishes in the woods, but what had remained had held their ground. Germanicus had gone home, only to come back in Augustus. He launched an attack to the lands of the Tencteri and Usipetes and drove most of those nations away to east.
Armin’s allies went home early. He was unable to restore the lands near the Rhenus River.
Germanicus spent the year clearing the way for next year.
As for my autumn, I spent it waiting.
Love was odd. It could be born in an eyeblink.
Friendship was easier. It led to love, sometimes, and friendship was the best base for love.
With Cassia, it had been thus.
With Gunda as well.
There was a reason why she had agreed to marry, and to insult Segimundus with me. It had been for the duty to the Chatti. It had been for Ebbe and Oldaric, both dead. Now the marriage was for far more that these reasons.
She did it for our mutual love.
When her wound got worse at the end of fall, I sat with her for days.
“Forget the guilt, Hraban,” she kept telling me. “I am happy. Love and live even after me. Nothing is wasted if you know I was happy. Keep going and don’t forget me.”
So she spoke when people visited her, and she held my hand as they wept.
She was brave and wise.
She died when the first snow fell in the Chatti mountains. She died, and she was draped in silks, and buried in a great mound, all the Chatti mourning her loss. They wailed at the sight of her covered body, the sight of her red hair peeking through the wrappings, and they vailed until Yule-Tide.
After that time, keeping my promise to her, I kept living.
Armin met Arpus and then me in Mattium, and without apologies, told me to make sure Maroboodus wouldn’t join the war against him. He didn’t mention the loss of the Aquila. He said nothing of the terrible war he had lost that year.
He expected me to join him in Luppia next year.
He said nothing of Donor. The man was still my enemy.
I still needed a man to get to Maroboodus. I sent Vannius word. Again.
Then I waited.
When I closed my eyes, Cassia was still there over the river, gray and unhappy. Gunda wasn’t.
And for Gunda, I knew happiness didn’t die with love. It just had to blossom again with another.
CHAPTER 15
(Mattium, the capital of the Chatti, A.D. 15, early April)
The winter had been uncommonly harsh one, perhaps to punish men for the one we had endured in the previous year and the one before. The mountains and hills of Mattium were ragged and white with snow, and the waterfall that graced the mountainsides near the oppidum was half frozen, and I often rode below it. Her mound was near it.
Men dared not approach me when I rode out to look at it. Women were quiet. That day was no different.
Gervas had fully recovered, and he and Wulf rode with Adalwulf yet again. His band of men had grown. Gochan was still vigilant, and his men ready and healthy.
Chatti and Adalwulf, and my Sarmatians had begun to prepare for war.
Her mound was in a beautiful place. The grass and yellow flowers grew on it early, and the mountains wind that ruffled the flowers made it seem almost alive. The waterfall beyond had been well loved by her. In the summer, women bathed in the waters of the waterfall, finding not only joy of the frigid, invigorating pools, but luck and promises of love. You could see the face of your husband in it, they said, if you were lucky, and some said Gunda had done it many times in her youth, claiming to see me.
She had been a stalwart wife.
She was well-remembered and was visited by many Chatti.
That day, I watched my son and Wulf as they rode on either side of me, and we were stalking a deer not too far from it.
“Father,” Gervas said, tall as he looked at a deer, not far from us. “It is tired.”
I grunted assent.
It was.
The deer had fled us for an hour with an arrow on its haunch. The blood trail had attracted us like it would wolves, and the battle was nearly over. “Finish her.”
He nodded and walked forward, holding his bow carefully, arrows clenched in his fist. He prepared and looked calm, shivering just slightly as he pulled the string, and breathed his last breath, before release. His back wound still bothered him, but not terribly.
The arrow flew. He watched it sail through the air, the deer’s ears pricked up, and then it fell on its side, rolling a bit before coming to a stop.
“Well done,” I said, and it was. It was very well done, and he whooped with joy.
He was confident. While we were in almost an exile amongst the Chatti, and there were men of Adalwulf riding around us at all times.
Men had been riding the land that fall and winter, asking about us, and strange men were staying near Mattium.
Donor’s men. The Raven Catchers of Ourbazo.
I watched Gervas and Wulf.
Both walked forward, pulling out their knives, and I followed them, knowing I’d do no more than carry the meat back.
I saw Adalwulf on a hill.
The man’s hair was billowing in the wind as he watched us, and there was a man with him. That man I knew well, and he had come a long way to speak with me. He had other ways of getting news, but he wanted to speak to me directly. Adalwulf had been expecting him for weeks.
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