Maroboodus: A Novel of Germania (The Goth Chronicles Book 1)

by Alaric Longward

  ‘Well, when she marries Father, you will find many poems from that sorrow,’ I said and clapped his back and walked back for the hall, disturbed by the thought of Father taking another woman, though of course he should. Then he would not have the energy to worry about me. ‘What a waste this was,’ I stated. ‘But perhaps a bit fun, as well. Thank you, you charlatan.’

  ‘Just listen to your father, for my sake,’ he laughed and nearly fell over a root.

  ‘How did you make the fire?’ I asked.

  ‘I didn’t!’ he breathed. ‘You lit it?’

  ‘Gods above,’ I cursed him as he nearly fell again. I grabbed his flailing arm and he nodded at me gratefully. ‘So what were the other lines about, eh?’

  ‘Which ones?’ he asked, confused as a blind man trying to find his cock in the dark.

  ‘The bit about gods chortling, beasts roaring, the lack of a feast, twigs, skull, and a rotten hull? And that bit about a girl and a noose, and a surprise and a murderous lord?’

  He stared at me as if I was mad. He lifted my furs and even my tunic, and I pushed him away. ‘What the—‘

  ‘You have more drink with you? You must be roaring drunk, friend. I only had that silly line about the blight, prayers, and obedience. And I lit no fires.’

  ‘The game is over,’ I told him tiredly as we walked to the hall’s main entrance. ‘You should know when to quit an act, friend. Let’s go and throw dice and see how lucky I will be.’

  ‘Maroboodus,’ he told me, standing in the dark. ‘I didn’t say those lines. Tell me exactly what they were.’

  I looked at him hard, and shook my head. ‘No, I won’t. It doesn’t matter. Either you are desperately trying to make me look like a fool, or you fear my father. Suffice it to say that the beast shall rear and scream, and people will probably die. That’s how it went, it’s just what Father feared, and you did well until you went on from that line. But you won’t tell him. What comes, comes, Aldbert.’

  ‘What comes, comes,’ he agreed. He shook his head with resignation and pointed a finger at me, no longer the fool. ‘But I think it’s really important you won’t let Maino annoy you to violence. I’ll help you, as best I can as I love you and owe you, but believe me; perhaps a father’s advice is good. It is so, sometimes. Don’t go the the Thing, at least. Stay away. Let Hulderic deal with Maino and don’t be rash.’

  ‘You never knew your father, so how would you know? But I have plans and yes, perhaps I’ll miss the Thing. I’ll deal with Maino later,’ I said. ‘Unless he challenges me publicly. Then I’ll piss on him. Come?’ He did not come in, but stayed out, sat on a bench by the hall’s door and wondered.

  I went inside and bowed to my father, who smiled at me, relieved, unaware of Aldbert’s failure.

  CHAPTER 5

  We rode to Bero’s village the next day. My friend had stayed silent most of the day, worried and brooding, in a mood very unlike him, but Hulderic and his champions were in a merry mood. The reason was the bright, autumn weather and the bright Sunna, and the brief warmth that graced the party. The bright light played on slightly yellowed leaves, on the lake surface and the small rivers, and moose and deer were gazing at us from the depths of the moss-filled woods and recently abandoned fields. Most of the men drank ale and mead, Hulderic as well and while the business at the end of the road was the burial of my grandfather and a perilous Thing of utmost importance, men were as relaxed as I had seen them. Fat Dubbe was singing lustily and Sigmundr, his tall frame swaying in his saddle was doing his best to ruin the tune, and his best was really good. Harmod looked like a spooked hare, his eyes crossed, as he had a horrible hangover, the gods’ punishment for men who didn’t appreciate the commands of their wives and lords to drink modestly, but he still chortled at the antics of his fellow champions. The trails were easy, and I had time to think. While Maino and the funeral were both depressing specters on my horizon, I let the merry weather calm my nerves into a pragmatic state of mind, one that tried to accept what was unalterable.

  I’d risk my life soon.

  While they all expected me to be calm and subservient when Maino strutted before me in the Thing, perhaps there would be a way to turn this all around. He told me Grandmother wanted to sacrifice me? To take me away? And I should just accept it and be like the meekest man in the warband for the rest of my life? No.

  He’d have to choose, I thought, as I gazed at Father.

  And I’d make him.

  I’d act that night, and it all depended on what happened that day. If they held the Thing, could I do as Father suggested? Could I wait for my revenge and submit myself to their damned, demeaning wishes and get my vengeance later? If he claimed her? Maino? I shuddered. Married her? That very night? I would have to see her at his side in every feast from then on. I’d see her herding his ugly children, no doubt unhappy and broken, for who would find Maino a pleasant company? I’d see him smile snidely at me, knowing I would suffer like a glutton deprived of food when he took her away to his hall. I’d weep with rage, cringe with fire as though burning shingles had been stuffed down my pants. I looked away, darkness conquering my brief joy over the bright rays of Sunna and only forced a smile on my face when I saw Hulderic looking back at me. He nodded to himself as he turned away and then we saw the smokes of Marka, Bero’s village. Hulderic waved in that direction and the champions were speaking about the place.

  He’d have to choose.

  I’d take her away.

  I’d rescue her, marry her, and then, if she had any power at all with the Svearna, I’d marry into that power and have a force to decide the matters of the Goths. Father would take my side. Of course he would. Meek and silent, obedient? No, let them be those things. I chortled and shook my head. Hump their bones, if they think I would be that sort of an adeling. I’d try to dodge away from the Thing so I’d not get maimed by Maino, and one day, even much later, I’d punish Maino.

  My thoughts were treasonous and I sneaked a glance at Aldbert, who was looking at me steadily. He gave me a small, dry smile but I didn’t let him read my thoughts, and gave him—like I had Father—a small smile and added a nod. He had promised to help me. He had, and he had claimed to be my brother. So he would help me, as I could not do it alone. And I also had an idea on what I might do to survive, if the girl turned out to be tricky.

  I saw the rooftops of Marka.

  Like most of our villages, Friednot’s former, glorious village was spread over a large area, cut into thick woods, riddled with fenced fields, vegetable gardens, and animal pens. There were craftsmen’s houses by a small pond, and smoke rose from the leather-maker’s shed and that of the blacksmiths, who probably were working on the bog iron, hoping one day to find a better quality ore, like our cousins over the sea occasionally enjoyed, trading it from the Celts.

  Like Timberscar, this village was nestled on the shore of the sea, by a small bay and several ponds, guarded by islands filled with even more woods and rough, stony beaches. Gulls were shrieking high in the air, probably hunting after herring, some seals were slinking between waves on the same business as the gulls, and fishermen were drawing nets to the bay, fired up as their competitors were out to claim the known spots for great catches. It was the same thing in Timberscar, and indeed elsewhere. We needed the fish to survive.

  Bero’s lords, like Danr and Eadwine, had halls near the beach. Gasto’s was further inland. He trained hounds there. Each hall was long, tall and well-built, and the rich ones had slaves aplenty to deal with the domestic issues. Fields of wheat and barley also separated them from each other, though they had been all reaped. Friednot’s and now, Bero’s oddly-built hall was settled right next to the beach and the boats. There were bits of old ships built into the walls, ship heads, sterns of old boats, and it looked strangely like a nest of an old hunting bear, one that had dragged the bones of its victims for its bed. Indeed, men said these were the ships of Friednot’s old foes from Gothonia, and some were indeed elaborately carved and decorated, c
learly boats of great lords, from times before we had even been born. The hall’s doors were chalked white and gray and they said the structure had been there always, though that was of course a lie, but it had been there at least since the brothers arrived in the shores of the land. It had been Grandfather’s war-hall and what was before, was probably a Svea village they had razed. It was called Bone-Home, or Bone-Hall, and inside was littered with elk and moose antlers as well as the weapons of those who had stood against the Goths in the past. Men were fixing the thatch of all the halls, preparing for the winter. The finer, larger halls had the healthiest looking roofs, made of hay, and thick, well cared for timbers, some of which leaked smoke from the seams. Some had an elaborate door, carved with symbols of vaettir, spirits and those of the gods. Small cows were herded around and some were separated and taken away as both sacrifice and for the coming funeral feast.

  Aldbert pulled at my arm, and pointed a finger before Bero’s hall, between the beach and the doors to the Bone-Hall, where there was a field meant for meetings. The center of the clearing was filled with wood.

  What had looked like a half-finished heap of a hall was actually something else. On the beach, a large bonfire had been built. It was tall as three men, and slaves pulling draft-horses were still bringing more wood to it.

  I also saw Bero and my hands twitched with hate.

  We could all see him, standing by the door of the Bone-Hall. He was tilted in his usual pose, leaning strangely to the side; his dark hair hanging behind his back and no doubt there was the customary frown on his long, sad, and uncertain face as well. He was staring at his father’s funeral preparations, deep in his thoughts and whether or not he mourned, or hated the terrible weight on his shoulders, I don’t know. Hulderic grunted as we guided the horses down wooded trails where Goths now greeted us, sitting on their horses in the deeper shadows, guarding the land. There was a large clearing we had to cross and after this, we were much closer, and then I noticed Bero was actually frowning as he was looking at Hughnot. That would do it, if Father was right about the northern threat. The Black Goths were arriving in boats. There were many boats, at least five, and all had twenty men. Father turned to look at me and lifted his eyebrows. I nodded and spoke, knowing I knew there was something odd about Hughnot’s arrival. ‘I don’t think he needs all those men to grieve his brother, does he? And where did the extra men come from? He visited his home over the Long-Lake just briefly, and now brings this many men? Were they actually somewhere else, already coming this way? Ready in case he needed them?’

  Hulderic looked at me with a relieved smile, hoping I’d see the danger he had been talking about. ‘Or perhaps he was just really fast and happened to have the men available. But not likely. I’m happy to see you find some sense in the jumble of confusion inside that bony skull of yours, son. They are here to guard him, at the very least. But also to give credence to his claim for power. He is not here to bow his head. He is here to make a point, we won’t like the point, and he wishes to be sure no spear finds his heart if discussion gets heated in the Thing. So do you see why we don’t need issues with my brother’s lords and son now?’

  ‘I see Hughnot is growing bold,’ I told him sullenly, ‘but I don’t like anything about my lot, Father.’

  ‘Just endure it,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘For all of us. Be patient in the Thing.’

  I’d avoid it, I thought. I’d have to.

  The Saxon ships were in the harbor, pulled up to the beach. A hall was heavily guarded by the the ships, a bit to the side, and no doubt that is where the poor prisoners, the captured Saxons were waiting for their fate which would not likely be a kind one. I felt sorry for them; at least briefly, men as much doomed as I was, I thought, and then shook my head, as I knew many of them would actually be sacrificed, not just unhappy. Some would be given the hanging man’s death, what Woden once endured to give men wisdom, or speared and nailed to a tree, and vitka would read signs from the gods from their suffering.

  But perhaps they’d all live, after all, I thought and smiled wickedly.

  Hulderic was keeping a careful eye on the man who was perched on the bow of the best boat, a red-hued one with a high prow. The large lord was there, looking at Marka with keen eyes. ‘He is going to challenge us. He wants the ring,’ he told me, though it sounded more like he was just stating a fact he had hoped would turn out false, but could no longer deny after having read the man’s intentions from the number of men accompanying him. ‘He’ll want the girl.’

  ‘How many men does Bero have in the village?’ I asked softly, counting the terrible many men that would soon disgorge to the beach. ‘He might, you know, just kill Bero there and let him join Grandfather in the pyre? It would be convenient. Or make a pyre out of the Bone-Hall?’

  Father smiled smugly. ‘He has two hundred.’

  ‘Bero? That many?’ I asked, shocked. ‘How?’

  ‘They cajoled all the men nearby to join the Thing. All. Many more than we had in the battle. Danr, Eadwine, Gasto are there with all their warbands and they dragged everyone they could find here. Hughnot will be surprised.’

  ‘We brought none,’ I growled and then frowned. ‘Wait, why didn’t we take the boat here?’

  He roared with laughter. ‘We didn’t want to be obvious. Our oaths men will be here as well. Are almost here, indeed. They follow a few hours behind us,’ Hulderic said steadily. ‘Eighty of my men will be near and so Hughnot will not make hall-burning nor try to voice too harsh demands on us and if he does, he won’t be able to force the issue. We’ll keep the men in cover but close and hidden. No need to make it obvious that we are expecting trouble. If he makes a sudden, early move, Maroboodus, if he has surprises of his own, we will have men available as well and he might fail utterly, fall heavily enough that he will not be a problem for us in the damned future. If he moves and tries something, boy, then we will surprise him. It is our right to do so then, but not before he commits a crime against his host. And then we will kill him. If he is content, preferably even happy with the current deal, where Bero shall rule the gaus, then we shall feast and mourn Friednot and he will leave his legacy of discontent to Hrolf to chew on. And one day you and Maino will have to deal with him.’ He looked hard at me. ‘You hate Maino, Maroboodus, but be very afraid of Hrolf the Ax. He is his father’s son. Only younger. And less wise. That’s what young men are. Less wise and get caught up in wars.’

  ‘What if,’ Aldbert whispered, ‘he will not use spears and won’t submit to your ideas? What if he—’

  ‘Poisons us?’ Hulderic asked, bemused. ‘We will be careful. And if he goes to war? We still have the ring. If he finally loses his patience, and breaks off the alliance, the ring will matter. His warlords will be unhappy if he shatters them from our ancient blood and the ring’s legacy. Poisoning is a threat, Aldbert, so you shall taste our food and drinks.’

  ‘Why, thank you,’ Aldbert said and hawked a half-fist sized chunk of yellowish spit, that ended up tangling from a low-hanging branch of a tree. ‘Hard to eat, been having fever and snot keeps flying, lord. But I’ll gladly sample your food. I only hope I shall not sneeze, my lord.’

  Hulderic looked warily at the nasty display hanging from the branch, and apparently, decided Aldbert would not taste their food. ‘He will have many plans,’ Hulderic said and flashed us a dark look. ‘He’ll juggle them all while searching for the best one. Dubbe and Sigmundr will keep an eye on things. Bero’s Gasto and Eadwine will as well. Danr rides around and makes sure nothing strange marches out of the woods and we will keep an eye out for treachery and schemes. Grandfather’s champions joined us. Ludovicus and Osgar are ours, though the latter is shamed by his failure.’

  ‘They joined Bero,’ I corrected him sullenly and ignored Hulderic’s long look.

  Aldbert nodded uncertainly. ‘Yes, lord. But I was wondering if they might be simply buying the supporters from under lord Bero’s nose?’

  Hulderic nodded. ‘He will surely try t
hat as well. The Thing will decide these matters, and we will stall, if we must, to make sure the families see the right path clearly. If they don’t, we will risk a few feuds and hang those who would serve him.’

  ‘It’s an interesting time in our lands,’ I said.

  ‘We will be changing the gau a bit,’ he said with agreement, ‘so listen carefully in the Thing and stay calm.’ He looked at us, but mostly Aldbert. ‘Keep an eye out as well, Maroboodus and Aldbert.’ Hulderic stiffened as he saw his father’s corpse being carried out of his hall. ‘They should have waited for me,’ he whispered hoarsely. The body was wrapped in furs, and looked surprisingly small, but that’s what death does to a person. There was more than flesh and bone to man’s stature, and death robbed all of their former glory and dignity. We rode to a route that led through two rich fields and passed a crumbling well, and we reached the Bone-Hall when the men of Bero were lifting Friednot on top of the pile of wood with many soft curses as they were slipping. Bero glanced at Hulderic with relief and then at Hughnot, who had jumped down from his ship and was wading for the pyre, his long black hair whipping wildly in a brief, cold wind and he looked like a raven fighting currents as he made his way forward. He was like a bad omen, and both Father and Bero looked at each other, having agreed to stand united, but perhaps even Father had doubts about Bero’s toughness. I noticed the twisted lord tapping his finger on his belt nervously and there was Draupnir’s Spawn, something that was not lost on Hughnot. As the lord closed to the Bone-Hall, his men began to disembark from the suddenly crowded beach, and Hughnot’s eyes enlarged, as Bero’s plentiful followers began to emerge from fields and halls, over a hundred men. Hughnot was nodding to himself, as he glanced back to his men and when he turned, he clearly understood the subtle message and there was a thin-lipped smile on his wolf’s face.

  ‘So long any surprise Hulderic was hoping for,’ Aldbert whispered to me. ‘Bero showed their game. Hughnot won’t make a mistake of trying to kill the lords now.’