‘Cassia—’
‘Will not survive a meeting with your father. Or the Chatti,’ the Batavi said softly. ‘I agree with Brimwulf.’
We hid for two long days.
We ate berries, drank water from the cliffside and dared not go search for munitions inside Gulldrum. It rained, and it was humid, and we kept Cassia and Sigimer covered from the elements as best we could. We had no idea where Drusus was, nor Segestes, but the Marcomanni and the Chatti army trailed east, crossing rivers high in the woods around us, foraging, and Brimwulf would sneak out at night to check on their progress and find us food. We ate rabbit, fat birds, fairly delicious mushrooms and a lame horse Brimwulf had found during the night. Cassia had opened up her eyes a few times, though briefly, but long enough for Agetan to give her some food and water. She took it but curled up, not heeding the world.
Then, on the night of the third day, Brimwulf came to me. ‘Nobody in the woods. Last of them are gone, all the stragglers, as well. There were some tardy war chiefs but seems they have gone east along the Hercynian, as the Romans call them, woods. The Buck ford is clear as well.’ I nodded and rubbed my face. He continued. ‘The Roman army passed the ford yesterday morning. They are making good time.’
‘Best move on, then,’ I breathed. ‘Freya’s luck, we need it if they have already gone too far.’
Brimwulf nodded and rubbed his stubble. ‘I—’
I sat back down to look at him. He was blushing, and I sighed. ‘You were sent to me by Thusnelda? That day I escaped Segestes.’
His eyes popped out, and he found himself nodding. ‘Why. Yes.’
‘And you did not feel your honor was much stained, as you pretended to serve me over her.’ I grinned. ‘She begged you to take Mathildis away?’
‘She hid Mathildis that night Segestes’s hall burned,’ he said with some shame. ‘She told me I owed her and that her father would slay Mathildis, for Wulstan would make sure he knew who was to be blamed for the finger. I swallowed my honor, Hraban and told her I would serve her if she helped us.’
‘She told you to help me?’ I asked him with a lopsided grin.
He grunted. ‘Come now. She told me to make sure you did not fuck up or betray her wishes. But you did not. And you saved Mathildis. And freed him,’ he said, nodding at Sigimer, who was joking with Tudrus. ‘You are freeing him, right? You said you would.’
‘I am,’ I said. ‘And I like Mathildis. She fed me, helped me, kept me going.’ I blushed as I thought of her without her clothes, but Brimwulf did not seem to notice.
He stared at Cassia. ‘They can make all the difference in our lives. Has your Fulcher sight? Saw I lied? That why he did not like me?’
‘I think you are just a hard man to like,’ I said with a grin. ‘Too hard headed. Like me.’
He smiled and rubbed his face. ‘Will you have me?’
‘I thought I already had you,’ I laughed. ‘But yes, if Thusnelda did not ensnare you hopelessly in oaths.’
‘She said I should make sure Sigimer is free. After that, I could choose my lord. And I owe you now. For her.’
‘I welcome you,’ I told him. ‘And I think I have a request for you. It might or might not sit well with you.’
‘Oh?’ he asked, worried. ‘I’ll pay a heavy price for my lies, I think.’
I thought about what I was going to ask until he began to fidget. ‘Armin will have to fight a war. And Thusnelda would like to see him live through it.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Of course.’
‘But we will need Drusus for our path later,’ I told him.
‘Why not just let them fight it out, and we join who is left?’ he stated.
‘If Drusus dies, Brimwulf, Armin will die anyway. Rome won’t stop at the death of Drusus. One way or other, they will send tens of thousands of men here, and Armin will eventually fall. Eventually. And we have failed Thusnelda. So, I will ask you for something. Not now, but perhaps later. We will see what takes place out there, but I have an idea. You served Sigimer?’
‘His warlord,’ he said suspiciously. ‘But he knows me. Sigimer.’
‘Good,’ I told him and smiled.
‘Your ideas usually deplete my arrows,’ he stated morosely. ‘But as I asked to serve you, I suppose I have to obey your orders, no?’
‘Yes, that is the idea,’ I agreed. ‘It will be hard, but yes. Let us leave now.’ I roused the camp, prepared the men for the trip, and they agreed enthusiastically, speaking excitedly. We put Cassia and Sigimer on a litter made from cloaks and wood. We made our cumbersome way through game trails, scouting and carefully seeking danger, but there was none. We hiked the harsh forests trails for the fords of the Angry One, struggled through heavy woods and blueberry patches, carefully checking around for an enemy presence and found nothing but some bloated corpses swollen on a field. The Batavi looked entirely unhappy for the lack of their famed horses as we struggled on, but there was nothing to do about that, and so we went on. Far in the east, there were again smoke pillars, and we were making terrible time with the wounded.
‘Hard to miss a Roman army,’ Tudrus said with a grin while carrying Cassia and Sigimer with me and two other men. ‘But they are far. Been keeping busy.’
‘They can march very fast,’ I agreed, despairing.
‘Should there not be a castra in sight?’ Hund wondered as we passed huge, abandoned march camps. Nothing permanent was apparently being constructed.
‘Drusus is cocky,’ Brimwulf agreed. ‘They should fortify the way.’
‘I’m not sure what he is doing,’ I growled. ‘Let’s march after them.’ They all groaned at that, for the litter was making us very, very slow. The Roman army was drawing far from us.
Next day, Tudrus was grunting next to me as we hiked for the Holy One, and it’s ford. He nodded at the smoke. ‘Sigambri send their children and elders away from the burning halls, the men and their women towards the smoke. Sometimes Rome burns a large settlement and just waits while your Batavi … our Batavi … us Batavi ride around to capture the women.’ I chuckled at his confusion and nodded at him, cursing and sweating as I was dragging the litter. Tudrus was sweating next to me. ‘She has gained weight in the winter. You should make sure she does not get too fat.’
Sigimer pelted him with a piece of wood from the litter. ‘She is a mother. Have some respect, whelp.’ Tudrus grinned at me, and I grinned back.
‘She is pregnant.’ I winced as I stabbed my toe on a rock.
‘Some stay fat after giving birth,’ Tudrus expertly informed me. ‘Mother did.’
‘Just take care of your little woman, and I will try to care for this one,’ I retorted, and Sigimer hummed in agreement as he lathered Cassia’s face with water.
‘Have to start thinking about hiding our alliances,’ he grunted. I nodded. We had begun to see Cherusci. Most were refugees with no weapons, most were allied to Segestes, but they did stare at the odd troop of men, and some disappeared in a hurry. They would not be in a merciful mood if they happened to be with Armin, and perhaps, if Fulcher had warned Drusus of Segestes, there was no lord in the land. All across the eastern horizon the Cherusci were suffering as Consul Nero Claudius Drusus was determined to burn until the Cherusci gave in. We did not know it, but he had let his cavalry loose and the legions were marching double time for Inguiomerus’s lands. But the smoke told a story, and I think we all thought it was too late for Sigimer to help Armin and Inguiomerus. I looked at him, and he nodded, his eyes moist. Should I take him to Drusus, after all, I wondered.
‘There should be some farms around, no?’ I asked, shaking the misery away. ‘Brimwulf?’
‘Hraban?’ he asked from ahead.
‘Hall, find us stables and a hall,’ I told him. ‘Something that has not been entirely robbed. Horse. We need a horse. Or anything to make us faster.’
‘Hall? Already did,’ he hollered back at me. Far ahead, we could see the ford, and there would be half a day before Sigimer’s lands and t
he last river. There, to the left stood a brown and green hall. There was a dog in the yard, looking at us suspiciously, but it put it’s tail between its legs and slunk away as we approached. Brimwulf ran to the stable end of the hall and stared around the doors. He flashed a smile at us and disappeared inside. Then he cumbersomely pulled something out.
It was a benna. A wagon. It was a rickety thing, but useful.
‘Horse?’ Tudrus yelled.
‘None,’ I snorted. ‘But it will be better than carrying and dragging this thing.’ All the Batavi grunted in agreement. The litter was killing us. We placed Cassia and Sigimer in the benna.
‘Hide the signum inside,’ I told Hund, and he nodded. ‘Shields and helmets as well.’ We heaped the Roman gear next to Cassia and began pushing the cart. It was fast, much faster than carrying the litter, but we had to use the roads.
That night I was sitting with Cassia when Brimwulf came to me, his mouth open.
‘I have no food to put there, man. Close it back up,’ I joked but saw him staring up into the sky. There, in the sky, streaks of silver were coming down from the heavens. Some quick, others slower like tears of gods flowing on the edges of the sky. We stared at them for a long time, wondering if they were a good or a bad omen, each in our thoughts.
In the morning, we pushed forward while eating a meager meal of berries, and really, anything we could find. One Batavi had bark in his mouth while chewing it thoughtfully. Brimwulf had been hunting, and some men enjoyed something I thought was a squirrel, but I was unwilling to ask him. Thus, we traveled a day, slept a night and then, that next day we reached the last river, the Holy One.
That was when the disaster struck.
We pushed the benna to the Holy One and struggled in mud to guide it gracefully to the water. We were midway, nearly over the worst places, and then Hund whistled. ‘Over there!’ he yelled and pointed to the north, where some twenty men were riding for us. They held Germani shields, oval and square, painted with moons and stars and animals and were tall and well armored.
‘Trouble,’ Tudrus said.
‘The man in front, the armored bastard, he has a limp arm,’ a Batavi said. ‘Ragwald?’
‘Get the shields and helmets,’ I cursed, and the men did. The Batavi took up the shields and hefted their spent weapons. They surrounded me, and Hund lifted the unit standard high above us, proudly.
It was Ragwald.
They were technically allied to Rome, but it was Ragwald, and he was not allied to me. He had twenty men, men I knew from Segestes’s household, and they rode under Ragwald’s banner, which was apparently a dead man’s skin. He pointed at us, and they spread out. My men prayed, and shields slammed to cover the man next to them. The wall of horses approached slowly, raising dust and grit to the air. They stopped at the edge of the water.
Ragwald’s eyes went to slits as he regarded us. Then those eyes opened as large as eggs, and he stammered. He pointed a finger at us. I saw Brimwulf look up to the sky with no hope as he cocked an arrow. He would suffer like I would for his treachery. Ragwald smiled like a wolf with a fat, lost lamb in the woods. His men stopped and stared at us from the river bank. They were well armed with heavy, long hasta spears, axes and cudgels and some bows. They glared at Brimwulf, whom they all knew. Ragwald guided the horse to the water, cursing the mud. He fixed a glare my way, and I spat on the current. I called out. ‘How’s your son? And that whore’s boy. Helmut’s whelp? Lost his tongue?’
‘You bastard.’ He laughed. ‘Here you are. All the silver in the world would not tempt me to let you go. I’ll drown you. But first, we will pull your guts out through your ass. Is that your woman?’ he asked, trying to see into the benna. ‘She will warm my bed tonight. Pregnant? Oh, my. How careless, Hraban. A new slave for me. Perhaps it shall be a girl?’ Agetan grunted and grabbed me as I had walked forward. Ragwald was cackling on the river bank. The big Quadi stared at my eyes and fingered a long pugio. His pig-like eyes went to Cassia, and I nearly sobbed. Then I nodded. He would make sure none of Ragwald’s promises would come true.
‘Come and fight, crippled piss pants,’ Tudrus yelled, and my men rattled their weapons on their shields.
Ragwald was in no hurry, though. ‘And I thought you were looters,’ he sneered at us. ‘Batavi pushing a fool in a cart. Oh, and Brimwulf. All the eggs in the same basket. About to fall from a fence.’ Sigimer was rousing himself, but I shook my head at him. He nodded, holding his ax. I said nothing to Ragwald as I squeezed the hilt of my blade, cursing the gods for this misfortune. Ragwald pointed a finger at us. ‘You are all on Segestes’s land. You are trespassing. But we will let you make the land richer with your decomposing corpses.’
‘You will rot in hell, getting humped by a filthy dwarf, Ragwald,’ I told him cheerfully, bored of it all.
‘No, you will watch me hump the woman. My boy died. His wound swelled, and he died. I will cut you to ribbons. Nothing else matters, really.’ He gestured towards us, and his men dismounted.
‘So, come and take us, Ragwald, I tire of arguments with a one armed dimwit,’ I told him. He nodded, raised his arm and then our luck changed.
Out of the eastern woods, an army emerged.
They bore a strange standard of a two-headed serpent, and Armin was at their head. I saw the golden hair flash as he gave orders, and I thanked Woden for his mercy. Apparently, the great god was not done with us yet. There were many hundreds of the Cherusci as they walked towards us. Ragwald went white from the face and started to turn his horse west to rush over the river. His eyes gauged Brimwulf’s cocked arrow. The archer looked him squarely in his eye, but Ragwald took the risk and whipped the horse as Brimwulf released an arrow. It hit Ragwald in the shoulder, glancing off, and he shrieked with fear as his horse splashed by us and through the ford and the river. He whipped his horse past us as he raced away. The rest of the men stood in a sullen group as Armin approached. The Cherusci approached and in their faces, one could see the torn looks of men who had fought for two years against their own and Rome. They were dirty, spent, and fey, their weapons used and well mended, but ready to fight again. Armin stopped to stare at the men of Segestes. They were Roman and would likely die. He spat and looked at the tallest man. ‘Was that Ragwald?’
‘Lord, he was,’ the man said fearfully. ‘He probably thought you were Roman auxilia.’
What in Hel’s name? I thought.
Armin grunted and cut the man off. Armin might have been young, but his displeasure was deadly, no matter how high a man. Silence reigned as Armin sat there on his horse, staring at me. Finally, he roused himself. ‘His lord Segestes waits for him in the camp,’ Armin told them sullenly. ‘Return there and fetch the coward.’
I stared at Armin in shock. Was Segestes in his camp? Had Fulcher succeeded and Segestes had switched sides?
They turned their mounts, and Armin’s men scowled at them. There was no love lost between them. Some rode past us and took after Ragwald and others returned to the camp. Armin came where Ragwald had stood and stared balefully at the Batavi. I stepped forward, and he nodded reluctantly. He waved his men off, and they rode a way back, staying there to stare at their enemies; us. The young chief was in a fey mood. One could understand it by looking at the ragged band of men, who used to be wealthy, respected and feared by their neighbors. Armin’s armor was used, his shield scratched and his hair dirty. Now, I thought, Armin finally looked like a real thiuda, a War King. I stopped short of the bank and tilted my head at him. ‘Armin.’
He nodded at me. ‘Greetings Hraban. Care to come over here?’
I smiled and nodded at him. I walked his way until I got out of the water. He looked down at me from his powerful horse and got down. He sat on the grass, pushing his horse further away and squinted up at me. ‘Sit down. My ass is killing me. I have been living on a saddle for two years.’
‘I herded pigs,’ I told him as I sat next to him.
‘I am sorry I failed you,’ he said sadly but rubbed his
face, and I realized he was giggling.
‘You …’ I began and went silent. I opened my mouth again, but he waved me down.
‘I am sorry. But pigs? I never thought the brutes Segestes employs have such a keen eye for creatures of the same temperament,' he blurted, wiping his eyes. ‘And I mean it in a good way. Like god Freyr, you fight like a mad boar.’
‘I’m beholden to Woden, and these were not wild boars, but regular pigs,’ I fumed. ‘But I thank you for your help.’
‘I was unable to help, Hraban.’ He smiled sadly. ‘I have lost all my land once and twice, only to creep back in the deep winter to take it back. I hear Segestes tried to get the ring from your foe Odo to pacify Inguiomerus? And my father to pacify me?’
He had not seen Sigimer.
‘Yes. But Odo only wanted to see me go free. He does not care about our struggles.’
He hesitated and shook his head. ‘I will have to go and try to free Father, one day. Your Odo made an enemy of me, as well.’
I bit my tongue, as I saw Sigimer rousing himself in the benna. ‘Why is Ragwald going to your camp? And more specifically, Segestes?’
Armin snorted and rubbed his face. ‘Because Segestes suddenly asked to join. Thusnelda told me Segestes was in league with your father. He was more than a traitor to the Cherusci, but also to Drusus. King of the North!’ I snorted, for his father had said the very same thing. He went on. ‘And now he is to fight Drusus with the rest of us because he has been exposed.’
I spat. ‘He was going to march with Drusus until you lot were dead and only then was he to betray Drusus. But I made sure Drusus found out about his betrayal.’
Armin laughed. ‘I thank you for the army, then!’
‘Yes,’ I said, thinking how Sigimer had not been needed after all. ‘Thusnelda sends her slaves to tell you?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Well, Drusus is here now, burning my lands. And the lands of Inguiomerus. Or was. I had no men to give him battle two days ago so I take what I can. Segestes and your father are going to fight him here as he returns. Drusus is the greatest threat to the Cherusci. I hate Segestes and Maroboodus, but we will have an army. And I don’t care if they serve enemies of Drusus or not, in the end, it is about our lands and people and Drusus has to fall first and soon. I only have to survive the battle, your lord has to fall, and then I will challenge Segestes, but later. I have no choice, Hraban. I have to join with them for this one great cause.’
The Winter Sword: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 3) Page 36