I was startled from my musings by broken Germani speech. “You keep old slaves, Maroboodus.”
I turned to look at the voice. I saw a Roman, who sat on a large Roman horse, his belly over a four-horned saddle. He noticed my long looks and ran his hand over one such horn, engraved with silver and beautiful. “Roman. Roman gear. You know it when you see it. Thousand years of plenty, and crafts made Rome the greatest nations in…your Midgard. We prefer the Greek legends, but you have yours, and they are much alike. Very much.”
“It looks like a fine saddle,” I agreed.
He slapped it, and his horse’s ears flattened for a moment. “Keeps one in the saddle, even when some bastard is pushing at you with a shield.” He chuckled. “Though, of course, it doesn’t save you from wounds that bastard is trying to inflict with his sword. You fought well. Very well. You look like a great chief, though quite young.”
I merely nodded. I wore my chainmail, my sword on my belt, and the gleaming ring, even.
“Your family, this family you stole it all from. Are they dead?” he asked.
I gave him an evil look. “No.”
He grinned. “I was watching Heinrich’s men making oaths to poor Akkas. They did it with long faces, for whoever had not been bought by Roman weapons, promises, and land were true to their oaths to Heinrich.” He laughed. “They didn’t enjoy the humiliation of their lord. Such a terrible humiliation it was too. They mumbled the words on their knee and didn’t look him into the eye. Akkas was oblivious to the fact. He often is. To many facts. Do you want to hear some I noticed?”
I ignored his question. “What will happen to Heinrich?”
Antius was chuckling. “He still has two and a half thousand men,” he mused. “He is a crushed man, in all appearances. His fame and honor are smeared by that knee-taking, and you exposed his crimes and lies, and Woden was watching!” He held his hands high and had an ecstatic look on his face. He put his hands down and chuckled at my lack of humor. “He must pay wergild. Some of his better men have been leaving. Otherwise. He is still here. That’s one of the facts I wanted to mention.” He was smiling happily, like a child who had found honey in a comb. “Red Raven was expected to be dead, his men dead, and still; he is here, alive, as are his men.”
“Will you not buy these men?” I asked him. “Swords and armor, that will do the trick, if you worry about his men.”
He turned sour and gave me an unkind look. “I tried. Akkas did.”
“You tried, but they said no?” I asked.
“Yes, that is the way of it. They all bend the knee. You see them. Five hundred men left. Both the ones bending the knee, and the ones who left, said they do not need more than they have. Akkas took the kneeling oaths of those who stayed, but none of them truly left Heinrich. They all agreed to obey Akkas, as men of Heinrich. Akkas really didn’t gain a single one those men to his service. So, I am worried. It is odd. I never trust anyone, Maroboodus. An odd fact this. Heinrich is still here. He was supposed to die today. He was supposed to be dead, or a prisoner, after they met in the White Tent, if his men fought well enough. I have eyes in my head.”
“Surely,” I added, “you are watching all of us with those eyes, and others. You worry far too much.”
He put a hand on his ample belly. “It is enjoyable to speak to a man who knows what he is about. You are different. You came here, you smelled an opportunity, you flaunted a fancy ring with a mythical story, something all Germani and Gauls would love to possess, and then, you got to their better side by defeating Heinrich’s lies. Another fact. Heinrich gave up too easily, after his man died. I don’t trust him. Nor do I trust you. See, some more facts. Why did you leave your ring behind when you went to kill your people? That is a fact I do not understand.”
“I didn’t want to risk it,” I said. “I had it guarded.”
He nodded. “Fine. And this Ygrin. Who was he? There were champions aplenty? There were. Did they all have sore bellies? Heinrich trusted a fool, a young fool. Oh, he was good enough. He might have won. Very respectable. This too, is a fact.”
“Why did you seek me out?” I asked, bored. “You keep implying I am with Heinrich. I am only with myself.”
He looked at my gear and my horse. “Indeed. You are not with Akkas.”
“I mean—”
“I know,” he said. “I might be entirely wrong. I have a bad feeling about you, to be honest. I can prove nothing, nor will I call for sword to prove my doubts. I am not a good fighter.”
I smiled thinly.
He placed a hand over his heart. “Heal it, Maroboodus. Heal my heart. You know Akkas and I have a deal. I know not what deal you have with anyone, and perhaps, you have none. What do you want?”
“I wanted my ring,” I said darkly. “I want a hall. But it is possible I want more.”
“More?” he asked. “So, you can be bought?”
“I can,” I said. “I am not cheap, seeing I have an ancient blood-line behind me.”
“Are you and Heinrich in league?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “I can kill him for you? Is that what you are asking?”
He looked at me with surprise. “He is surrounded by bodyguards. He will sleep amid them now. Just like Akkas. You think you can?”
“I am clever,” I said. “Just answer me something in your turn.”
He looked at me shrewdly. “What do you want to know?”
“What happened with Rome and Red Raven?” I asked. “Why Akkas? He seems like a fat spider, too afraid to hunt.”
He was nodding. “I do like you more, and more. You want to be a rich man and see the world. You see deeper than most. Red Raven stole from Rome and from those who trade with us in the north.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” he said. “He was the Thiuda of the land. Since the Phoenicians discovered amber in the north, it has flowed south—”
“Amber?”
“Your kin call it Freya’s Tears. It is a miraculous, yellow-golden jewel they collect in the shores of the north.” He smiled. “Where you come from, perhaps.”
I smiled. “You are well-traveled.”
“I am. It comes from the north. Most of it goes to the Semnones, who send it to Hermanduri, and the road goes south through here, and he and Rome barely tolerated each other. Then, he became greedy. The northern merchants? They found a reason to seek new routes. It costs us more, it is upsetting and insulting, and any route that goes through the lands of the Chatti and Quadi, is an uncertain route. They are no friends to us. The route cannot go in the east, because of the raiders, and nomads. This was the best route. Many people relied on it, and Roman power did as well. Do you see?”
I gave him a quick look and smiled. “He stole?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I won’t bribe you with armor. You tell me what you want, instead.”
“I do not know yet,” I said, “but if I find a way to kill the Red Raven, and make it look like someone else did it, a wrathful warlord, one of his men, I can ask you for something?”
“If it is reasonable. Bertilo,” Antius said. “Get rid of him as well.”
I shrugged. “If I manage that, you shall give me what I desire.”
He hesitated. “Within reason, I said.”
I nodded. “Why Akkas?”
He sighed. “Akkas is dependable.”
“Can he beat the Quadi?” I wondered. “Can he? And can he be trusted any better than Red Raven? He seems too cautious. He will have enemies. And since the northern traders of this golden treasure found new solutions that cost you much, why are you trying to kill Heinrich with Akkas? Is it not too late to change things?”
He was nodding. “My, you have a lot of questions. Do not worry about Akkas, Maroboodus. Forget the trade. They are our worries. You worry about what we just spoke of.”
I had no intention to forget a thing, and I didn’t worry about Akkas. We had a plan.
“We shall deal with everything,” he said absentmindedly, as he saw
the thin, small man coming for him, carrying an odd thing. It was a square tablet, made of hardened clay, it seemed, and on it, were markings like the vitka and the völva sometimes scratched on trees.
He saw my look and smiled. “This is Marcus.”
Marcus bowed and looked at me with curiosity.
“He is responsible for many things that make my life easier, and here, right now, he is working on our stocks,” he said, and showed me numbers. “Slaves. Slaves by hundreds.”
I gazed at their pens.
“They are not here, of course.” He laughed. “We have our haunts elsewhere.”
“And weapons,” I said softly. “Where I come from, such weapons are expensive. Impossibly expensive. They are the dream of men, and war-lords would risk their lives for one. And you give them away by hundreds. You do not keep them here, do you?”
“We can afford it,” he said. “But, no, we do not keep them where the Sarmatians and Hermanduri might steal them.”
“They would,” I answered, “and they are willing to sell their hearts for such. Just like in north.”
He watched Bero, who was sitting with a man, talking over mead. Both were drunk, and Ingulf, terrifying and deadly, stood near. “He is very busy.”
“He is a servant, not a slave,” I said.
“He is a very curious man,” he muttered. “I agree to your terms. Do not make trouble, Maroboodus. I—”
He went quiet as Heinrich walked out of the hall and went past us with many of his chiefs and dozens of bodyguards. He looked at me with such fury, I should have flinched. Instead, I spat before his horse. He stopped the beast and looked down at me. “So, the dog finds another. I won’t forget. Watch your back.”
“Aye,” I said. “I have men to watch my back. I expect any attack from you comes from behind.”
He turned away, cursing softly, and each and every one of his men looked furiously at me.
Antius, smiling, spoke on. “Very well. We shall see.”
“You do not seem too concerned,” I said. “Not very.”
He shrugged. “Heinrich’s decision to live changed things. I worry, but not too much. Finally, Maroboodus the Goth, we shall win back our trade.”
“And you are a trader?” I asked.
He nodded. “I will grow richer and richer, Maroboodus, and one day, I shall buy myself a town somewhere in the Mare Nostrum, perhaps Greece.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “This is what I desire. A tiny, peaceful kingdom.”
“And it sounds modestly true.”
He frowned. “Modestly true?”
“Aye,” I said, “you are fat, but you do not get winded. You have scars in your arms, and your calluses speak of a life holding a sword. Trader? Perhaps. But you know your war as well. I will make note of you.”
“Your cause is clear,” he said. “Your loyalty is strong. It is to yourself, and let us all benefit from it. I have very few weaknesses, Maroboodus. Very few. You, on the other hand, are alone amongst people who know you not. You have no men. I wish you luck and agree on our small deal, but make sure you do not betray me.”
“No men?” I asked. “I hope Akkas will remedy that,” I answered, and saw a man on the doorway, looking at me. “He expects me.”
Antius nodded and turned to Marcus, and they left, speaking softly.
I left him and followed the man to the hall. It was an old, if large hall, and old weapons were hung on the walls. The firepit was long and split the room neatly. Akkas was seated in a corner, covered by Sarmatians and his two guards, and I was led that way. The man was speaking to Tamura, who looked up, and smiled as she saw me.
“There,” she said, “the lie-breaker, the king from the north.”
Akkas looked up at me and frowned. He didn’t like men who were called kings. I stepped forward and went down on a knee and bowed my head before him. I looked up and found my gesture had made his sour face brighten up a bit. Akkas shifted on his seat. “So. You have all that was stolen?”
“I am missing treasure,” I answered. “And a horse, but I suppose I gained more by winning your trust.”
He hummed. “Trust? Do I look like a man who trusts others?” He winked at the twins and the bodyguards. “I see you spoke to my Roman friend. What did he want?”
I shook my head. “He has spies and wanted to make sure I am not really with Heinrich.”
He looked at me with shock and then laughed hoarsely and shook his head. “Aye. That he would. He is a meddling bastard, and few Hermanduri would tolerate such meddling, but I do. He is here to make himself rich, but he is useful as well.”
“What does Rome want in return, Thiuda?” I asked him. “Does not such a stock of weapons and horses come with a price one must pay?”
He shrugged and spat. “Slaves. We pay for them in slaves. That’s all we do.”
He didn’t mention the Tears of Freya. Did he even know about that?
He was brushing his hand on the table next to him. “They have an unending appetite for strong slaves, and pretty ones, no matter what sex.” He leaned closer. “I think they like boys, to be honest. You know, as a…” his words faltered off, and he looked troubled.
Tamura was shaking her head in disgust.
“What of Red Raven? He said the man stole from them?” I asked.
Tamura’s eyes went to slits.
Akkas shrugged. “He might have. I don’t follow trade. I have no interest in that. They approached me, gave me what I needed, and now, finally, I shall rule.” He touched the steel on his ax, which looked unused. I noticed Bero was standing behind me. “Weapons for slaves. But happily enough, we can provide such slaves. He would see me his eternally grateful king.” He stretched his back. “The Quadi will fall this summer. Rome wants even more slaves, so I agreed. It will make him happy and no doubt rich. His weapons are fine bribes, but in the end, we have all we need. The Hall of the Wolf will be decorated with their standards.”
The man was fighting to gain slaves for Rome. He was a fool. An utter fool.
“I would join such a war, though I can only offer my sword, and that of Ingulf,” I said. “I fear I am stretching your hospitality, great king.”
He turned to look at the hall, formerly that of Heinrich, now his own, and waved his hand around. He shrugged at the men feasting in the hall. The two tall, blond warriors with blackened faces turned to watch me closely as Akkas leaned close. “Well, Goth. Perhaps you will find some? Will you feast and find your men? There will be plenty of men seeking war-lords, and you get to pick your own after what you did today. If you find none, you may join a warband and make your fame in battle.”
“I cannot pay for them,” I told him. “Not yet. I hoped to join your band.”
“Ah!” he answered, and shrugged. “They can eat from my table. After the war with the Quadi, if you cannot repay me, or haven’t made Hermanduri proud, you will leave your ring and sword with me. It intrigues me. Worthy of a king, it is. Now, go and feast.”
He turned away abruptly. Tamura nodded me away, and I got up. Bero stayed behind and walked to a Sarmatian, who eyed him like he would a crippled horse.
I walked away, and Ingulf followed. A man showed me into a table.
There, we feasted. We ate boar and deer and looked at Bero, who was carrying a horn of ale and was speaking with many people. At one point, he was speaking with Tamura. They spoke for a while, and then, he disappeared.
I watched the gigantic tables running before the firepit, only intercepted by massive, gray pillars and thin smoke. The Thiuda was being approached by men who saluted him, and he was smiling at a joyous group of men roaring their approval at him.
Ingulf was soon busy.
A young man clapped my back, and Ingulf pulled him away and spoke with him. I noticed men in the dark corners, watching me, my companion, my ring. I watched them whispering, and I knew I would get men aplenty, if only I could pay them. Akkas had said he also, could loan me what was needed to keep them fed, and armed.
But I
would not need to.
They would already be paid for.
I simply sat there and grasped my horn. I emptied it, Ingulf spoke with men who wanted to serve me, and I drank.
The horn was filled immediately. I kept emptying it.
The feasts of the Hermanduri are filled with singing, tale-telling, sweaty matches of wrestling, and feud-settling, by fight or by law.
Soon, even I found myself enjoying the great revelry. Ingulf was turning away men and turned to drink himself. I gave a quick eye to the men he had chosen.
He had picked twenty.
Most were grinning things of grime and still obviously capable warriors, judging by their frames and scars.
Every single one were Heinrich’s men.
I paid little attention to them after, or others.
Then, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. It was Tamura. She was looking down at me, and I up at her. She had a hand on a sword, wore a tunic, and no more armor, her hair gleaming around her shoulders. Then, she nodded to the side. I hesitated, Ingulf was shaking his head, but for some reason, I followed her as she walked to the back rooms. She pushed open one doorway to a sleeping hall, a small area behind the main hall and whistled sharply. Two servants got up from a table and left.
She turned to look at me.
I was leaning on the doorway and stared at her. She walked back and forth and smiled softly.
I sighed. “It was a battle.”
She nodded.
I went on. “She tried to kill me. I had—”
“I know,” she said softly. “I do know. You fought your way out. She lost. She was not very good with a sword. With a bow, you wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded. “Were you trying to kill this Heinrich?”
She nodded. “We knew he had been sneaking around the land and saw the fire. We wanted him dead.”
“Romans do, too,” I said.
She looked bothered. “I do what my great uncle Akkas wants, and I obey him. He obeys Rome, who gave him victory.”
I nodded and smiled. “Slaves. He says Rome wants slaves. But—”
“You want to speak of Rome,” she said sadly. “I want to speak of Leimeie. That’s her name, Maroboodus. Leimeie. We burned her this morning. I wept. I held her on my bosom when she was a babe, and we rode the plains on hunts, and I loved her.” She shook her head. “I lost my husband year past. We were ousted from the tribe, because the new lord had hated him. We came here, to our relative, and I thought I would find a good husband for my girls, one who was brave, and would not object to our ways. They would not mind the hall, my girls. I have sought great men for them to marry. I have found none. Then you came.” She smiled. “Had you not killed her, I would have married you.”
The Wolf Page 10