Adalwulf: The Two Swords (Tales of Germania Book 1)

by Alaric Longward

“Get to it,” I told him thinly. “I’ll play the game.”

  The big man peered at me as he adjusted his armor, the fabulous wolf-headed bronze mask in the chest jingling, and grabbed the spear tightly. He walked to the woods to the side of the flowery hillside. I was startled as he did, his abruptness suspicious, but then his face appeared in the shady woods, and he nodded towards the hill. “The Den awaits. Stay behind, but not too far, and observe. Come fast when the time arrives. I’ll hold the door.”

  I nodded at the beastly man, and we ran to get our horses. We mounted and took to the thickets, and spotted him, waiting, and guided our horses after him, slowly, hoping not to spook the men on top. The bastard was making his way over mossy boulders and thickets, and our horses picked their way through such tangled braches. Decimus was cursing on his horse before me, pushing through low hanging heap of fir braches, all of which seemed to have a particular liking for his helmet. He finally pushed his head through the greenery, his face flushed. “You think we’ll still breathe in the morning?” Decimus asked, spat, and wiped his face with his hand.

  “You’ll survive nearly anything, Roman,” I told him, as I was about to endure the same treatment he had.

  “I’m nearly out of lives,” Decimus said. “Had some really bad luck lately. Not only did I lose my gladius, I lost the coins, and—”

  “Your men,” I said without humor, and Decimus smiled, knowing he was a bastard.

  “And my brave men,” he allowed. “Hope this is worth it.”

  “Your men knew they were there to rob, not serve Rome,” I said dryly.

  “They knew, of course they did. We, like any Roman garrison, keep the peace, keep an eye on the Gauls, and everyone gets rich while doing it. Not only some of us, but all of us. Its only fair. They used to fight like a pack of dogs before we conquered the land. If we let them grow fat and rich again, they’ll slit our throats one day. No, we strangle their coin out of them.” He gazed ahead at the beastly man, and chuckled as I profusely cursed the firs, which tried to smother me. “Look. No matter what we tried to do to each other—”

  “You tried to do to us,” I corrected him.

  He lifted his hand in surrender. “No matter that, I pity you the fight with him, though. It will be terrible fate to die so young.”

  “He’s not very young,” I said bravely, and Decimus chuckled throatily, and for a moment, I liked him fine.

  I looked at Leuthard walking just at the edge of our sight. He was striding on the edge of the clear space now, through the hilly meadow of flowers, his huge body heaving as he made his way up a small incline, and I knew we would soon be very near the door. “We’ll see who dies. I’m no fool, you know.”

  He snorted. “You’re not? A lot of damned trouble for a sword,” Decimus said, spitting out bits of evergreen he had again nearly swallowed. “Though of course it will be interesting to hear what they plan to do. Surely not Tiberius? Or even Lollius? No. Someone else.” He sounded bored. “I’m not going to be lucky enough for it to be Tiberius. How could some barbaric forest-dwellers know where Tiberius shall be? War with the Marcomanni—”

  “They have a sponsor. Remember? Someone pays them to kill, and that someone is obviously a person of wealth and power. Someone knows. And that war could destroy the Marcomanni,” I said flatly. “This is important. And Gisil is. Look.”

  Up ahead, Leuthard make his way towards the cave entrance. There was indeed a hefty doorway with an expertly crafted, thick door, and three burly men with dark, furry cloaks, who stirred as they spotted Leuthard. The big man raised his hand and greeted the guards, who were glowering at him, hunched, and almost scared. One nudged another, and that one disappeared inside, and the two guards took tentative steps towards the approaching beast. There was a creak, then a thud. The door was closed, likely locked and barred.

  We guided our horses to the edge of the hilly meadow and looked up at the door. Leuthard was taking strides up a muddy track now, his spear held loosely in his huge fist, and the men bowed to him. “He was with these … Brethren once?” Decimus asked, worried. “Truly? And they think a god sired them? Some wolf god mounted a girl and out came this bunch of rascals? He wasn’t just trying to scare us, right?”

  “I’ve seen him fight. And more. He kills and enjoys it, and not like we would, eagerly waiting for the honor and rewards from our lord. He does it for the pleasure. He’s killed a friend of mine. See how they fawn on him,” I said, gesturing to the men who took care not to offend the huge man in any way, their heads bowed, but their spears were also pointed in his general direction. “They respect him, but also fear him.”

  Decimus grunted. “Let’s hope they all die of fright, and we can just walk in.”

  “Let us,” I agreed, but then Leuthard was next to the men, apparently speaking animatedly, his hands sweeping around, and it looked like he was describing our presence to them, since one man looked over his shoulder. “Shit, is he betraying us—”

  But he wasn’t.

  The door opened, and eight men streamed out. One was shorter than the rest, and a warrior with white locks of hair running to mid-thigh. He was wearing ring mail, held a sword, a hasta of crude make, and seemed to have a perpetual scowl on his face. The other men looked on, all careful, bearded beasts. Some were hurt, with bandages, and I was sure I had seen some of them in the battle of the hall. Leuthard’s hand went up, and he beaconed for us.

  We didn’t move, but looked at each other.

  He snapped his finger, it could be heard all the way over the hilly meadow, and I saw his face was brutally distorted, his scowl such as he had before a battle. “I don’t think the enemy lord and his best men are there, only those men,” I whispered. “He wants us to go in.”

  Decimus spat. “I bet the doorway hides at least a dozen rogues and that Raganthar lord as well, snickering as we ride forward.”

  “I’ll go, you can stay,” I said heavily, and hid my hammer under my thigh. “Come if you will, or go. I’m here to stop a war.”

  “I’m here to be rich,” he said. “Jupiter’s left ball, I’m coming. Didn’t I already throw that spear when we were outnumbered so heavily? This is child’s play.”

  I made my way to the meadow, and the warriors with Leuthard stiffened. The beast was speaking to the leader, and I wasn’t sure what he told them, but it was alarming, because they moved to block our way on the hill, looking at us with deep hostility. I heard horse hooves behind me, and knew Decimus was there, and I looked over my shoulder to see the Roman had hidden his armor under a cloak and taken off his helmet, his hair plastered on his head. He did look Roman, short and his skin darker, and as the Mani peeked through a break in the heavy banks of clouds, the enemy would know us very soon.

  I tried to calm myself. Leuthard would do what he did best. Slay with treachery.

  Unless Leuthard had really betrayed us.

  We got closer. The horses sensed the strangeness of the situation, and were whinnying gently, their ears going up and down. The chief of the enemy took some steps down the hill, stopping near his men. His eyes went over me, and I lifted my leg to hide the shaft of the hammer, in case he might recognize it. He looked at Decimus, and it was then he frowned. He took an uncertain step forward, holding the sword’s hilt tightly, and turned to question Leuthard.

  He died with a spear in his belly.

  The strike was swift and brutal, and I could hear the blade grate on the ring mail, which had given in like it was made of bark. Leuthard’s bellow was enough to shake the sleeping birds out of the trees. Rabbits were dashing like mad hermits in the shadows, a deer bolted with a warning snort, and the men beside and before Leuthard turned in shock. Leuthard moved like a wraith despite his size. He grabbed the sword from the dying man’s hand, struck right, and disemboweled a man moving for him. His fist swung left, and another man’s face turned into a mask of blood as he plummeted down the hill, neck broken and on his way to abyss. Leuthard kicked open the heavy door and retreated inside, a
s the men surged after him.

  “Fast! Charge them!” I bellowed, and kicked the flanks of the horse. It whinnied in surprise, and I forced it forward as I stared at the group of men milling at the doorway ahead. Some of the enemy were turning for us, but most were trying to get in, stabbing their spears to the shadows. One of them seemed to disappear, as if an invisible monster sucked him in, and his death screams gave that notion credence. The others were throwing javelins, stabbing spears, and I hoped there would not be more of them inside. I hoped Leuthard had killed the lot and died in the process.

  A man singled me out, and threw his spear with a grunt. I didn’t see it in the dark, and I prayed, but it sailed past me, and I felt it more than saw it. I looked at the man in the eye, as he drew a seax, a thick, short blade, skimming his eyes over my horse, which he intended to hamstring. I pulled out the hammer, and nearly fell from the saddle for its weight, but that saved me, because the horse changed direction at the last second because of my loss of balance, and ploughed over the man. Few horses do that willingly, but this one did, and it didn’t seem to feel bad about it, as it neighed victoriously.

  I forced it past another man, who was indecisive between attacking Decimus, or me, but chose as he dodged away and went for my companion. I guided the horse to the doorway. I hammered down at a man who turned from the door, and the hammer connected with his chest so hard dust billowed up from his hair. He fell back and took another down. The horse turned as spears flashed at its face. One tangled in my tunic, another scraped across my chest, and I cursed, though it didn’t break skin. One man charged me, hollering madly, and pulled me from the saddle. We fell in a tangle of limbs. I sensed men moving around me, men who had abandoned the attack on the door. A spear flashed above me, and the man holding me down pulled away, grinning victoriously. I knew I’d not be able to dodge the strike.

  Woden’s rage forced me to try. I rolled, but was kicked back, and the spear came for me.

  I felt my belly knot with fear, and I expected death, but then Decimus bowled over the spear man, hitting him with his fist. I rolled up and smashed the hammer’s hilt in the face of a man coming for me. The hilt struck his nose, flattening it, and he fell from me, his eyes rolling with pain. I got up and saw Decimus was strangling the man he had tackled. The enemy was clawing and struggling, but weakening, and Decimus was chortling with his victory. A hurt enemy approached him, ax high, but I ran at the man and swung my weapon so hard the hammer sang in the air, and his head simply caved in. He was a quivering mass of meat, and then Decimus got up, trying to take his breath, and I turned to look for more trouble.

  There was none.

  “Adalwulf!” Decimus hissed, and grabbed a spear and a shield, bloodied like a fiend of butchery. “Leuthard. Where the fuck was he? We have to—”

  The beast answered. “I’m here. No need to find me.” We turned to look at the armed man. His sword was not the Feud Settler, but it was red to the hilts, and so was his face. He had a savage look on his face, obsessed with battle lust, but very unlike mine. He was not done with the fight. He kept staring at Decimus and me, possibly calculating his chances, and then he licked his lips, and shuddered. “It’s done.”

  I got up and faced him. “All quiet in there, Leuthard?”

  He shrugged, and took a step to the side, and leaned on the door. “What was in there is dead.”

  “Ear?” I asked him.

  He smiled briefly. “No. He’s not there. Nothing of worth inside, except for the old priest. Go and have a chat with the man.” He flicked his attention to Decimus who was about to protest. “It’s safe. Though he won’t come back as he went in. It will change him.” He glanced at me gleefully, and then at Decimus. “Go on. Hesitate not.”

  I looked at Decimus who nodded and moved near the door as Leuthard walked out, kicking over the corpses. “I’ll guard the way,” Decimus said nervously, and kept an eye on Leuthard. I knew he meant to run to me, should the deadly man come suspiciously close to him.

  I took a deep breath, passed Leuthard, not showing fear as best I could, and felt his eyes following me. He spoke, as if to himself, as I entered. “Ask him about everything that puzzles you. He will answer every question. Eat the knowledge, Adalwulf, drink tears.”

  I hesitated, and pushed to the dark corridor. It was not very wide, but wet, and there were bodies on the ground. I poked them with the hammer to make sure none had a surprise for me. I went forward, making my way down the stony path, partially lit by fires on the end. Soon, I saw a large, warm cavern full of shadowy crates, wooden sheds, a few stalls meant for a few horses. It was the Den of the Brethren.

  There were colors in the semi-dark. Torches and a small bonfire burned in the middle of the cave, and some rocks glistened with odd green color, as if covered by glow-worms. There was water running from one end into a small pool near the middle of the cavern, and the water reflected the light from the fires and of Mani, which indeed shone thorough the shrubs on the ceiling. Roots were running down the walls, and the greenery cast strange shadows in the large hall of Hati. I walked forward and noticed there were bunks, rows of them, with hay and gear scattered all over and around them. Yet, there was order in the semi darkness, as it was clear where the food was made, where men feasted, where they sharpened and repaired weapons and gear.

  There were also slaves there.

  I stopped at the sight of them. Leuthard said none of importance remained, and even I had to agree with him. They were miserable, horrified wretches. They were sad Celts, mostly women, and all mistreated and malnourished. It made me cringe to see them covering in the corner, their dirty feet peaking from under their hems, their haunted eyes full of fear.

  I felt my way down stone steps, and gazed at a dark corner with cages. Three were empty.

  One held a man.

  At least I assumed it was a man.

  There was a shadow there. I pulled out a burning shingle form its holder, and advanced. I heard the slaves whispering, but I looked at the man, and found what I had been looking for. The old man was holding wooden bars, and as I looked at the cage, I decided he might actually break free quite easily. He was a sturdy fellow, with white beard, thick shoulders and a wrinkled face. “I cannot leave,” he said with a clear voice that dispelled my fears, and oddly answered my thoughts. I got closer, and saw why he couldn’t leave.

  His eyes were white, his knees crooked, and he could not stand up.

  I went to my haunches, looking around and trying to make sure no more of the Brethren hid in the dark. I did not trust Leuthard’s words. “I’m looking for your master.”

  “My master?” he chuckled. “I smell Leuthard near. Didn’t he tell you anything?”

  “Something. Where is Raganthar?”

  “My son?”

  I rubbed my face. Damned animals, I thought. “Yes. I want him.”

  “Raganthar’s not here,” he chuckled. “Leuthard is. I don’t want to see him.” He was nervous as he said that, nearly begging. Then he chuckled and pointed at his eyes. “You know what I mean. Keep him away from me.”

  I shook my head, and then cursed myself for an idiot. “I’ll do my best. He and I? We don’t share friendship. We have a common quest. That’s all.”

  “One you forced on him?” he chuckled throatily. “He will think about it every waking moment, boy. He is thinking about how to eat your heart. You are a prey to him. He might seem tamed, but he is not. Be careful. Whatever deal you made to force him to attack this place, he can undo in an eye blink.”

  “I have his sword,” I told him, looking behind to make sure Leuthard had not sneaked in. “I have it, and it will have it melted into a puddle of scrap if he does not help me regain the other sword your son will use for an evil deed.”

  “Swords, swords, all are for evil deeds,” he chanted, and then his face turned up toward the hole in the roof.

  “One sword from a Goth lord,

  To kill a Roman bore.

  Another from a beast,
>
  To enslave the god of feast.

  Three fates shall entwine,

  Tears will fall on a grave of pine.”

  He fell silent and shook his head, rubbing his face. “That’s what I got for you.”

  “And what was that?” I asked, bewildered. “A poem?”

  “A boon from the god,” he said with a wistful smile.

  “Woden? Or yours?”

  “Woden? Nay!” he chuckled. “Mine. Look around you boy. Would Woden find his ways here? Nay. This is the Den of the Hunters, of men who have been touched by the god of night sky.“

  The wolf? “I’ve been told of Hati, yes.”

  “He, who hates,” the man said sadly. “He makes his way to the world. While his brother Sköll chase Sunna during the day, he should chase Mani in the night, but he is a lazy wolf, hates his father Lok, and rarely obeys him. He mates with women he finds desirable, and sometimes, the offspring is different. This is so with the Batavi, and many in their family run with the moon. They walk the day, serve their lords faithfully, but rarely sleep well in the night, yearning to release the animal inside. They are no real wolves, boy, do not fear, only savage men, full of emotions you might find in an animal, and they eat their enemies.”

  So they really eat them, I thought, pushing down the fear. “I’ve seen Leuthard in the dark,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “He is more a wolf than a man.”

  The man nodded nervously. “Him, I’m not sure of. He might actually be more a wolf than a man. And my son is also odd. Both sons, in fact. The Brethren are nothing but vagabonds, but be careful with this family of mine.”

  “They’ll die as men,” I said with confidence. “They must.”

  He shook his head. “They say a true Brethren can die once and come back. I think with Leuthard it might be worse. He received more than his share of Hati’s blood.”

  I gazed at the man. He sounded intelligent, near lucid, almost sane. “So. You seek your god’s wisdom for them when they ask for it. They keep you like they would their dog. Now, I have questions. And then I’ll release you. This is a shitty life.” I waved my hand around the cave.