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

by Alaric Longward

  “Gauls have sacked Rome?” I asked, full of wonder.

  He smiled. “Yes. Rome was not always a city full of wealth and drenched in power. Once, it was just a city on the banks of Tiber, full of hard people living on seven shitty hills. Their pretension to having divine favor is just gilding over very treacherous politics. In any case, the Gauls tried to take Clusium first, but Rome helped us, and then Brennus and his savages went to Rome instead.” He hesitated. “It was like that for me.”

  “You were tied to Rome?” I asked. I heard shouts outside, up the hill. “Wonder it Tiberius is having nightmares?”

  He shook his head. “He should. He’s about to deal with the Treveri and Mediomactri. Surprised he hasn’t killed himself. As for your question, no, I was tied to someone. I tried to help him, and then I got stepped on. Father couldn’t help us.”

  “Your brother?” I asked him, tilting my head and smiling coldly.

  “My cousin,” he snarled. “Not all cousins are like yours were. Some are just bastards.”

  “Another Caecina?” I asked him with a savage smile. “I bet his name is Gaius. You don’t seem like one for imagination.”

  He shook his shoulders, and eyed me from under his helmet’s rim for a while. “Yes. Another Caecina. And yes, Gaius. But in my defense, he uses my name when he does something naughty. We have been doing that since childhood.” He was quiet for a time and spoke easily, eyeing his spear, which was leaning on the wall. “And I guess you heard this name when you spoke with whoever was in that cave?”

  “He did mention a Caecina, Decimus,” I said and got up. “The tavern keeper knew of Gaius. You thought to run and warn him of us?”

  He smiled nervously. “I have no idea—”

  “What is this?” said a voice on the doorway. I turned to look at Roman so like Decimus in look and face, you could hardly mistake them for strangers. Both had faces like chiseled rock. “Who is this?”

  “A man who tries to ruin the act,” Decimus said, getting up. “It has been tedious.”

  “What?” Gaius asked nervously. “How?”

  “A long story,” Decimus snorted. “I’ll explain it later.”

  “And you brought him here,” Gaius breathed. “You fool. Did you at least get the coin off Seisyll?”

  “No,” Decimus cursed. “As it happens, that bit of business ties to this one. I’ll explain it later. I followed them here,” Decimus murmured as he retreated from me for his spear. “I could have escaped earlier, but then how could I have kept an eye on them, eh? I had to stay with them. Things still moving?”

  The man nodded. “Some fools tried to find Raganthar. Two young Gauls. They won’t find anything.”

  I stiffened. That part of the plan had failed. I’d have to survive and find them and that meant confronting Tiberius. The thought made me nauseous.

  Gaius stepped in fully, his sword out. “But here we are. At least you got a message out. Very good, cousin.”

  Decimus frowned. “They didn’t give me the opportunity to escape, though,” he said, frowning. “And I got no message out. How come you are here?”

  He squinted. “What?”

  “I got no message out,” Decimus growled, and turned to look at me ferociously. “What did you tell that tavern keeper?”

  I stood away from them. I was looking out of the door where more men milled, and starting to feel anxious. “I had him deliver a message. And you are both traitors,” I snarled.

  Gaius agreed. “Yes, traitors, perhaps so. But when there are so many masters, it’s hard to see who one should serve.”

  “King Vago bought this murder,” I said, taking my place in the middle of the floor. “He did. And he is not your lord, Roman.”

  Gaius squinted at me. “You know much. Too much. But no, no flighty Vangione is a Roman lord,” Gaius stated with a bored voice. “No matter their citizenship, no matter if they spew some kind of Latin, they still herd cows north of Alps. But, here we are, and I have no need to explain it to you. You say you sent me the message? Why?”

  I lifted my hammer and prepared myself. “Why? I wanted you to come down and say hello. Now that you have, I find it hard to say which one of you is the nastier specimen,” I said spitefully. “Despite having glorious war-gear, and speaking Latin, you are both drenched in piss.”

  Gaius ground his teeth together. “We are equally rotten. Both bad apples.” I saw Decimus didn’t quite agree, scowling at Gaius, but kept his peace. Gaius grinned at his cousin, and pointed a finger at him. “I heard you speaking. And you heard Decimus. I got him into trouble, he claimed, but no man can force another to steal, especially from his family. He has always blamed me for his troubles. I stole his father’s money. I was starving, so was my family. We had just been dumped to the street from the insula we had lived in, because father’s business burned down. I needed food, my sisters needed a roof over their heads, and so I took it from them. Family, or not. And Decimus,” he said and smiled at his cousin, who stiffened, “he helped me. For a price. Turned out there wasn’t all that much to take.”

  “We were poor as well, cousin,” Decimus said resentfully.

  “Oh, come now,” Gaius smiled as three scruffy legionnaires entered, their shields out. “You smiled when you had your part of the loot.” He turned to a wide legionnaire. “Did you send men after that big bastard?” He nodded.

  They had men after Leuthard. Poor souls, I thought.

  Their weapons were out and of the best quality, the ring and chain mail immaculate, helmets spotless. They looked powerful and good fighters, but they were perhaps a bit drunk, by the listless looks on their faces.

  “So, you’ll kill Tiberius for a war. For King Vago,” I said, hoping to buy time. I held my hammer tightly, and they all kept looking at it, being seasoned fighters.

  “Yes, for Vago. And gods know if it was Vago’s idea, eh? I think not,” Gaius said simply as his men spread on each side of him, and all held wide shields up now. They’d hem me in against the wall, slash their weapons at me until I died, and then they’d go away happy. “Now, enough of this. I’m not sure why you sent word up to the tower, but I guess you think too much of yourself, eh? And no matter what you planned to do to stop Raganthar, Adalwulf, it’s too late. It’s all taken care of. My optio helps with this.”

  Decimus stirred. “Kill him already.”

  “Kill him,” Gaius said and pointed a finger my way. “Then we bury him and his huge friend—”

  Leuthard entered behind the men like an evil shadow. Decimus whirled, Gaius rushed away from the threat.

  I charged.

  Woden’s rage roared in my head. It called to me. I felt him watching. I felt his savage glee, knew his door would be open should I fail, and so, I attacked. I saw Leuthard push Gaius out of his way with a savage thrust, and his crude sword cut air at the turning legionnaires. A man screamed.

  I went for Decimus.

  I swiped the hammer at him, he cursed, no shred of weakness in him, only the fighter, and danced back. The heavy hammer went past his face. I saw Gaius charging me from the side, having recovered from Leuthard’s assault. I spun on my feet, and the terrible weight of the weapon swung with me. I snapped it at Gaius, whose face betrayed his terror, his gladius went up and met the weapon.

  The blade held.

  The hammer took it with it as the weapons crashed into his helmet. His own sword cut a savage wound across his face, which filled his left eye with blood. He fell on his back, screaming like an animal. I bellowed, because Decimus was on the attack, fast as an asp. It was too late to dodge. His spear ripped into my thigh, and I fell in pain. I felt him coming, standing on top of me, and then Leuthard saved me.

  A legionnaire crashed into Decimus, taking him down into a heap of flesh, leather, iron, and arms right next to me.

  I climbed to my knees, and swiped the hammer blindly at the heap. I realized it was going for Decimus’s face, but the bastard kicked the half-conscious legionnaire towards me, and the hammer
struck his back. There was an odd sound, similar to when the women are cleaning cloths on rocks, a strange, sharp slap, and the man’s body arched with the power of the hit. I kicked back, as Decimus made an incoherent, bull-like snort, his eyes wide, the spear thrusting under my armpit. I stumbled, and he pulled away. He charged me, the spear out again, and thrust it with all his power for my chest.

  I fell back, and rolled to my feet.

  Decimus was coming on relentlessly, and I saw he was not alone. Enraged Gaius, his centurion’s helmet bloodied, face slashed, was right next him, and they hacked and stabbed at me so fast, I fell to a corner. They were there, before me, trying to stab me into shreds. Decimus’s spear went though my tunic, pinning me to the wall, and Gaius struck me with his shield. Half-blind, he aimed his gladius for my throat, but I ripped out of the spear, rolled past them, and while I did, desperately grasped a dangling cingulum belt of Gaius and pulled him as hard as I could. He fell and hit Decimus with his shield as he did so they both fell over my legs with curses.

  “Jupiter’s ashen balls! I’ll strip you of meat, and feed the bones to Cerebros!” Decimus bellowed, pushing at Gaius, but then I was up. The two centurions were still on their knees, desperately pushing up, and so I had a chance.

  “Woden!” I screamed, and he heard me as the hammer pumped down. It struck Gaius, whose armored chest took the hit. He screamed like a child, because a bone broke audibly. I lifted the weapon, and the bastard grabbed Decimus, pulling him on top of him. I didn’t care, but kept pummeling. I had seen slaves soften meat like that, striking it again and again with a round rock, making it sweet and tender, and so I killed Decimus, the bastard who had caused so much sorrow to so many people. His eyes betrayed his fear, then terror, and finally the highest tiers of pain, as blood flew. A rib, then another was broken. Then a flailing arm, along with the spear shaft. I was breathing hard, but I was determined to strike him through the floor all the way to his Hades. From the corner of my eye, I saw Leuthard, panting, grappling with a pair of Romans. He was bleeding from wounds, especially on in his chest, where the mail had saved his life. He roared, reached out, and rammed his blade across a man’s throat. The other Roman sobbed, charged him, and clawed to get over him for the door, but Leuthard casually pulled him around, and rammed a sword through his ring mail. The man gasped, breathless and dying, and Leuthard pulled and sawed the sword inside him, looking at me.

  I saw Gaius was still alive. He held his bloody hand up in the air, hoping to stave off his fate. “Wait, we can—”

  I stepped on his face. “What can we?” I asked him gutturally.

  “Wait!” he gasped. “We can make a deal.”

  “Sure,” I laughed. “When will they attack Tiberius?”

  He gasped. “Tonight. Now!”

  I looked at Leuthard. He was bloodied, pale and tired, but still ready. We’d have to move. “Go, and make a deal with your god, Gaius,” I said, and rammed the hammer into his face.

  I wiped blood off my face. Leuthard was smiling at me with a ferocious grin. “I think our fight will be very interesting, eh? Let’s go. We are close to ending this. And then, soon, we shall dance together.”

  “If you see Gisil, do not touch her!” I panted.

  “I won’t,” he said darkly. “I won’t.”

  CHAPTER 24

  On the top of the hill, something strange was happening. We were climbing as fast as we could, Leuthard’s brooding presence near me as I limped along. “How exactly are you going to do this without getting us both killed?”

  “How?” I laughed darkly. “I don’t know. Like I did it in Sparrow’s Joy. Went in, and trusted in luck.”

  “Luck. Gods amuse themselves by throwing some around when they are bored. But they get bored with giving it to only one man,” he spat, and tapped his chest that was bleeding. “The Romans knew how to fight.”

  “You killed some in the dark?” I asked.

  “They died,” he said needlessly. “They didn’t have time to fight.”

  “You didn’t seem too bad off when you came to the hut,” I told him, squinting up the hill.

  “I barely touched them,” he panted. “Barely at all.” He smiled at me. “You sent some poor fools to find Raganthar?”

  “They failed,” I growled.

  “Yes,” he laughed.

  I gazed at him, and wondered at the smug smile on his face.

  I put a hand on his chest and crouched. Up ahead, the guard tower rose to heights, and inside the gates, there was a bustle. I stared at the men rushing about, heard the clank of shield and armor, rattle of spear, and saw glinting of blade. A commanding voice demanded to know what was going on. It spoke Celtic, then Latin, and we looked at each other, wondering what in Hel’s name was going on. The voice was thin, young, and scared. “Gaius said he has an optio, some kind of a officer into this shitty treachery.”

  “Optio’s a centurion in training,” Leuthard said. “There.”

  The soldier’s kit kept on clinking and clanking, and then they formed at their gate. Ten to fifteen men filed out, and some were dressed in pristine armor. A younger man with a long staff was screaming orders. Leuthard grunted. “There are some that don’t look local. The guards of Tiberius? Few of them. They are leaving the tower. I bet that Gaius has sent most of his men on all sort of patrols for this night. There is nowhere near a century there. More like twenty men left after that lot leaves.” His eyes scourged the darkness. “And this is when Raganthar will try to finish his contract.”

  “They mustn’t leave the place,” I growled as I saw an optio appear in front of the troops, pointing a gladius down hill. The Romans began to jog in the dark, some slipping unceremoniously in the grass, and their hobnails clanked on the road they had built, tripping others. Some sturdy guards closed the gates.

  “They’d never believe us, and we don’t speak Latin,” Leuthard growled. “That optio will stop us. Let them go.”

  I hesitated. We went flat on our bellies, smelling wet grass, pressing our faces in the turf as the Roman troop jogged past, their faces worried. “What then?” I hissed at Leuthard. “At least they closed the gates.”

  “Hold, I heard something,” Leuthard whispered. Then he lifted his head. “There!”

  Two men were rushing for the gates. A guard in the tower shrieked a warning. The men were dressed as Romans, with shields and chain, carrying Roman weapons. Yet, they were tall, wide, and different somehow. “They are not Romans,” I whispered.

  Leuthard shook his head. “I bet that centurion arranged for that armor.”

  “They’ll know the passwords as well, won’t they?” I whispered.

  They did. The men reached the gate, and were screaming urgently. In Latin, even. They were well prepared.

  The gate opened up, and we saw the tower’s yard held some ten Roman soldiers, with a grizzly centurion holding a wine stick, arm length used to disciplining soldiers. Behind them, by a door to the tower, there was a rotund man, nervous looking, wearing a strange, voluminous robe. “Toga,” Leuthard said. “That’s Tiberius, I guess.” Two olive-skinned archers wearing chain mail stepped out behind him, looking dubious.

  “Doesn’t look very heroic to me,” I said, while sweating with fear. “Like a mouse standing upright.”

  “Does Bero look heroic to you?” Leuthard snorted. “Yet he is rich and knows how to rule.”

  And then, Raganthar attacked.

  His Brethren came rushing from the darkness. They were dark, furry-caped bastards, loping along, Hati’s mad followers, Fenfir’s spawn, Lok’s grandchildren they thought themselves, and all crazy. There were twenty of them. In front of them, the Head Taker glittered in the moonlight, as the big, evil lord of the enemy led them on behind his dark shield. I didn’t see Gisil with them, but she would be close. I pushed her out of my thoughts, and took a deep, scared breath.

  Leuthard pulled me around. “You took my sword.”

  “I did,” I hissed. “I also saved it. We have no time�
�”

  He looked closely at me, his eyes glittering. “It’s my turn.”

  He moved away from me. I prepared, but he wasn’t going to attack me. “Where did you send Ear?” I asked him with a growl. “He’s here, right?”

  He looked at me calmly, smiling. “Ear?” he asked me. “Well done, Adalwulf. Yes, he’s around.”

  “And what did you tell him to do?”

  “You’ll see,” he smiled. “Let’s get that sword. And settle our scores.”

  “Hurt the girl, and I’ll—” I said, but he moved off. He was changing the deal. And it was too late.

  I growled as Woden’s anger called for me. It was distant, I was wounded and tired, but it was still there, the demand for a good battle, the uncaring anger. I stumbled after the man. The Roman guards were yelling, the official looking man was taking steps inside the tower. The gate guards charged for the gates, throwing their weight against them, but the two fake Romans turned on the guards, their swords flashing, wounding one guard, slaying another with steel through the throat. The archers reacted, and pila fell at the two Brethren, killing both, but the bastards fell between the gates, and the men who tried to push them closed, failed.

  The evil group of Brethren tore inside the compound. Arrows felled two more, but then the roaring enemy closed with the Romans.

  We charged in right on their heels. There was a great confusion, and I forgot about Leuthard and his plans.

  The Romans fought well.

  They had their shields out, some lobbed pila at the Brethren, felling several on their faces, but the Hati worshipping bastards ripped right into their enemy, axes and clubs flailing. Men fell right and left in a savage press. The archers were cursing and yelling up to the tower, where some men rushed down to join the fray. The pudgy toga wearing man was shivering inside the doorway, yelling something at the Centurion. Raganthar saw that, his shield taking hits. He was near the Centurion, fighting two bloodied legionnaires, but his eyes never left the Centurion. Some civilians, scribes, other non-combatants, and slaves blocked me. They were running out, but when I had pushed through them, I saw the pudgy Roman lord pulled a gladius, his face pale, his many chins flubbing with fear. Again, he yelled at the Centurion, and pointed a sword at him.