He laughed. “Like Heinrich, they would be. Some say they fed that roasted cock to a boar.”
I shrugged. “I know not, Oderic. I don’t know about that. But I will saw at their crotches if they touch me or my hair.”
He rode on for a while, looking at the mountains and the clouds, happy as a bird. “Bad luck, the men think,” he said with a smile. “There’s been plenty of terrible luck lately. We need no more. But you choose, of course. I was just—”
“The hair stays,” I said impatiently. I looked ahead of us and tried to distract him. “They look sullen.”
He rode next to me and joined me as we watched the ranks of men marching on the edge of the rivers through the mountainous passes of Tiw’s Teeth. The weather had turned cooler, and while it didn’t seem like it would rain, I could see why he thought the luck was not on our side.
Thousands of men, nearly eight thousand, were entering the lands of the Quadi, and they didn’t seem full of confidence and glee. If anything, the many lightly wounded from the battle before, reminded everyone it was not a unified force.
We had lost a thousand men not to the wounds, but to broken oaths. Many men of the Red Raven had not followed Bertilo to war. Many men of Akkas had found an excuse not to show up in the Wolf Field.
“They do seem like someone sold their mother for an old horse,” Oderic said. “But those boys seem happy.”
He meant the Roman unit.
I watched Cenhelm and the Roman Prefect Cato riding on the other side of the river, and we all watched, many times an hour, as some seven hundred men of the Thracian auxilia cohort marched forward. The Thracian troop marched separately from the columns of the Hermanduri, their shields flashing, spears slung over their shoulders, and a train of mules and horses followed them with hundreds of slaves and servants taking care of them. They seemed a troop apart and were, though they were also, in truth, not like a Roman cohort, I had been told. These men were not as trained or disciplined as the real thing, but they sang, marched, and looked like they had just emerged from of the gates of Valholl. The fifty real legionnaires had stayed behind to guard their fort.
“At least we won’t starve,” Oderic muttered. All the Chatti carried plenty of supplies. Sacks of food and horses hauling their equipment in rather a Roman way were evident in our ranks.
But the Hermanduri wouldn’t starve, either. Where Germani often went to war with little and had to go home soon after, Akkas had prepared the army well, and Cenhelm, trained in a Roman way, took full advantage of it.
The supplies of dried meat and fish were being hauled in the middle of the columns for our troops, and many women followed Cenhelm to war, carrying even more supplies, and the Hermanduri could be in war for weeks.
Ingulf, Hulderic, Maino. Bero. All waiting for me.
I felt betrayed. And perhaps, I felt betrayed by myself.
I heard Oderic speaking. “I am sorry?”
He spat to the river. “Did Anvil slap you hard around the ears? Or did our poor Wolf Face fracture your skull? You seem lost in your thoughts or deaf. Can’t do anything with a deaf chief with a long hair on the forehead.”
I smiled and shook my head. “He died too fast to slap me. He was meowing at the end of my sword’s blade and twitched his life away like a trout. Helmet saved me before that.”
I wore my original armor. I had a Chatti shield, Chatti spear, and a dented bronze helmet. I had kept that bit of Roman gear.
“I do like trout, I do,” he said cheerfully. “See, we shall pass southwest until the mountains end, soon. Then west and we shall cross one river. The Romans say it is some fifty Roman miles after the river for the town, Melocabus, where this King Cynefirth is trying to steal the trade of amber from the Hermanduri, and to make it far more expensive for Rome. The Quadi are risking a lot. They live further to west, nearer the Marcomanni and the great river, but this shit of a king took Melocabus with his tribe and his son, a man called Tudrus.” He frowned. “They should have stayed home. We, the Chatti, live to the north of Melocabus and have always tried to wrestle it for ourselves, but now, with the Quadi there, the Hermanduri have been harassing our people up north.” He gave me a quick look. “I know. I know. Anvil sold his soul to the enemy for gold and promises. I suppose we still get paid, if we serve you well.”
“Will you?” I asked him. “Serve me well, that is?”
He nodded. “Of course. We saw you in the fight. Wolf Face on his face. Anvil being hammered down. It is not the place of a mercenary to question someone else’s honor. You will do well.”
I felt anger ripping my guts and then calmed myself. “You question my honor.”
Oderic spat and shrugged. “You gave oaths, and you, I hear, caused a war and betrayed their peace-making for personal profit. I agree a truce and talk after a battle rarely get you any results, but to turn it into a bloody feast where cocks get cut and brains flow on the ground?” He shook his head. “Yea. Your honor is gone.”
“It was the only time,” I told him, “that the two shits were unguarded. The only time. There was no other time, and I had no men, and it solved the problems for Cenhelm. His honor is intact. Mine was never compromised. They were both—”
“His honor is not intact, as long as you march here,” he said. “I know. I know. They were both evil men. One was perhaps only stupid and slow and always afraid, but the other one was something else.” He grinned. “We get paid, and you come with us to the north. Change your name and be a Chatti.”
I said nothing and sighed. “How many Quadi will there be?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, really. They are a small tribe, but fight ferociously. They say small dogs bark furiously, and big ones bite, but they have been known to do both, no matter their size. They have been getting many people in their ranks, as they have grown wealthy suddenly.”
Amber. It had all begun with Heinrich and his greed. I wasn’t to be blamed.
And yet, I was.
He kept speaking and pulled me from my misery. “They could, if they were not spread from the Matticati hills in the west to Melocabus, probably summon some eight thousand men, but I doubt they have the half of it. The town’s guarded by the river we will cross soon, then by a thick wood that stretches from north to south and goes on for days, and then, after the woods, it is guarded by hills and mountains to its south, and large fields stretch around the town. When we march out of the woods, they cannot flee south to the mountains or to the north, where the Chatti are. The woods, the plain around the town, the river that cuts the town in half, and the bridge in the middle of it are all places where we shall bleed in, but we will take it, and if they run? We will go after and chase them to their western hills and rivers and go even further west next spring. Or the Hermanduri will, at least.” He was nodding. “We might go home. You will come too. We must look to our own land. Hermanduri are falling under Roman influence, and there are rumors of a Matticati and Rome alliance being worked on. Rome is working hard to take the land.”
“What of the Chatti?”
He grinned. “We shall push them back. We have mountains and a thousand towns, and we have never run away from a fight. We’ll push them back, if they try. First, Rome will have to beat the Quadi and the Marcomanni, so it won’t be this year. Not next one, either. They will fight hard, the Suebi Marcomanni and the Quadi. You, lord, and us shall find a rich land to call our own after we beat these shits and sit waiting for a new war. Worry not. We’ll sleep by the Green Tears today, before we plunge to the woods. That river takes one to north, where the Cherusci live, but also home. We might lose some men the next night.”
“Keep an eye on Tamura for me,” I told him.
He nodded. “They are most all ahead scouting, the Sarmatians. Don’t worry about that, either.”
I did worry. I worried about my choices.
I was a Bear amongst wolves, but suddenly alone, I no longer felt the thrill of freedom, the joy of scheming for power and place. I simply rode on and said
little.
***
That afternoon, the entire army camped on the edge of a great river that made its way north to south. I had been summoned and walked for the hastily built fort the Roman auxilia had been working on. There were the low earth walls, the agger, the shallow fossa, the gates, and stakes on top of the earth wall. I walked around it, asked for directions, didn’t get anything more than a scowl, and finally found the tent of Cenhelm near the northern gate of the fort. I walked forward and found the tent guarded. The guards looked bothered as I arrived.
“One moment,” one of them said. “You must wait.”
I said nothing and did just that. We stood there, staring ahead, trying to ignore each other, until one guard spat and spoke to his friend.
“They’ll be there, in the crossing,” he said.
“They will be, why wouldn’t they be?” his friend answered. “Perhaps they will wait for us just inside the woods. The ford is wide. Anyway, they will have spies and know we are here.”
“Aye. They have scouts,” said the first man, and looked at me. “And they have spies.”
They didn’t say it, but they thought I might be one.
I was spared the need to say anything to their thinly veiled insult.
Cenhelm pushed out of the tent in his tunic and looked at the three of us. Inside, I saw the centurion, Lucius, and the Prefect Cato, lounging on chairs, and there were a dozen warlords standing around the tent, speaking softly.
“Come, then,” Cenhelm said, and turned to the guards. “Tell the others to follow.”
I went inside after Cenhelm. Eyes turned my way and regarded me with suspicion. Some whispered comments were made, and men moved nervously around, shifting on their feet. Cenhelm saw it as he walked past me to sit on a stool.
The Prefect was staring at me emotionlessly, and I saw Antius and Marcus both, seated next to him, staring at me with neutral faces. I shifted away to stand in the shadows of the doorway and then found Tamura entering. She was in her armor and looked around, found me, and stepped away as if a viper had been placed on her lap.
“Welcome, wife-to-be,” Cenhelm said. “And others.”
Tamura smiled at him. She, too, received suspicious looks.
Cenhelm was nodding and spoke. “The enemy knows where we are,” he said tiredly. “It is as it should be. It is best to know where they are and get on with it. We are going to attack them, and they know it. They will be preparing, and it will soon be all decided.” He waved at Tamura. “They will, our Sarmatians tell us, be fighting in the woods. King Cynefirth has moved several thousand men to the trails we should take through the woods. We will push them out and back. It will be costly. It must be done.”
“It will be done,” Tyr said, stepping from behind other warlords. “No more tricks.”
Cenhelm nodded. “Wait. We shall cross the river. We will keep an eye on our supplies and have the scouts keep an eye on the foe. We will deploy on the trails through the woods for the west, and when we find where they are, we will start enveloping their lines. It will take time.”
Tyr nodded. “And blood.”
“They might harass us for a week, or more,” said Lucius, while the Hermanduri looked at him with askance. They were also distrustful of the Romans. Lucius went on. “It might seem easy to simply fight them, and push them away, but it won’t be. They will have prepared. There might be a reason they are here, in the woods.” He leaned forward and slapped his palms together. “They might be trying to delay us and seek reinforcements. In the end, they will have a few thousand exhausted, bloodied men, and we will be out of supplies and fatigued when we get to their town, Melocabus. There, they might have more men. That will mean a major, uncertain battle. We will win, but we will be crippled. If the Chatti come, or something else happens, it will get interesting.”
Snake shrugged “It is war. It is how it is conducted. Blood, guts, and who lasts the longest, wins.”
“Aye, it is so,” Cenhelm said. “We will break into columns, after taking the fords of the Green Tears, and we will travel west, and we will take the punishment. Woden willing, King Cynefirth shall die in the woods and spare us much trouble.” He tapped his hand on his seat. “Of course, we should consider some options.”
They all looked at him with curiosity.
He smiled and played with the edge of his tunic. “We know all many of their women and children are in the town, preparing to leave. Love?”
Tamura stepped forward. “Our scouts managed to get there before they closed off all the trails and came back. It is filled with fat cows, spare horses, many wounded and sick. Plenty of their women are with the men in the woods, of course, but many are also in the town, as are their families. They are sending men to escort them west. There are traders from the north and the south; many boats and riches fill the warehouses.”
Everyone nodded, and Cenhelm looked up. “If only we found a way to flush our enemy out of the woods. If only we could find someone to get to the town, and to take it, to hold their warehouses, and to capture and kill enough of their people to force the warriors from the woods. A someone with a ruthless force of men, and perhaps riders, who might have crimes to clear, honor to shine, would do well to take that bridge, and hold it, and doom the Quadi and their king to die in our spears.”
I looked at Tamura. He meant us.
She sighed. “You want us and the Chatti to get past the enemy and sack the town behind the defenders?”
“He does,” I said. “It can be done. I will do it.”
He looked at me and hesitated. The others looked down. Tamura nodded. “It can be done. We will do it.”
She had a ferocious look on her face. She smelled an opportunity to save my life and then to take it.
Cenhelm nodded. He waved his hand, and men moved out. Tyr and Snake looked down as they walked off, and the others only began speaking as they passed me.
Cenhelm sat down, and the Romans had not moved. The prefect and Antius looked at each other for a moment. When everyone was gone, they turned to look at me.
They hated and feared me.
I smiled and wiped my hair back. “It seems there is a gloomy army on a march to war. The men look like they ate a turd, but perhaps it is so, because the chiefs serve gossip and fear to them often and cold. Is that the reason they are gloomy? The chiefs cannot stop thinking I am bad luck.”
Antius shook his head at me and spoke. “You and her. You came to this land, and you meddled in our plans. You made Tamura kill the men of her future husband.”
Cenhelm shook his head. “Any woman chooses her children over a man she doesn’t know. I will forgive her.” He wasn’t smiling.
Tamura smiled coldly. She gave me a furious glance.
Antius went on. “Rome is practical. Gods know we are. When a man chooses to ally with us, we give such a man our support. We often forgive erring subjects. That’s how we rule so many nations. A Gaul might, for example, even rebel, and we forgive his men, while the man himself must die, or go into exile, if he but repents and aids us.” He leaned forward. “But we also rule justly. We rule by example. You gave both Akkas and Heinrich to us, but only after making the situation unbearable. You simply …” He shook his head in disbelief and waved his hands. “You met Red Raven once, and the day when he was going to try to put down Akkas, you made him clever. You and he were planning, planning, scheming, hiding in plain sight. You knew the Sarmatians would want you as a sacrifice,” he said, looking distastefully at Tamura. “You knew you might capture her and find a way to Akkas. Her daughters were…”
“I had nothing to do with that evil deed,” I snarled. “In fact, that’s why I—”
“And still, you pushed Fortuna from one place, to another, and led the goddamned Hermanduri to attack Cenhelm! Us!”
“I’ve forgiven him,” Cenhelm said. “He fought well.”
“He!” the Prefect said through the centurion, the Roman’s chiseled, clean-shaven face gleaming with sweat and spite, “Fou
ght well? I supposed he did. Against us!”
Antius was waving his hand to calm Cato down. “He did all that. Then, he offered them to us on a plate and made himself invaluable to us, for a moment. He made war, fought like a damned madman, and forced Cenhelm into a parlay. There, he smeared his honor. He wanted to ally with Rome, and Rome accepted, but we have an army that just fought against itself, its moral is shaken, there are a hundred new feuds, and chiefs looking at each other with spite. And now, you wonder why they are gloomy? You might be forgiven what you did, but it is not forgotten. Nor is it forgiven, if we lose this war.”
“You shouldn’t plan on losing wars,” I murmured.
He laughed, spat, and moved to put his hands painfully on Marcus’s shoulders.
“Now, you march with us and expect to profit from it, to climb back to honorable position. It irks me. It makes my belly slither with anger. You pulled one over Rome. Rome wants a payment for the pardon you were given. That we spared you will not do.”
I pointed my finger at the west. “So, I will go on a mission for you. I would have, anyway. It is my thiuda’s command. I am taking the town. I will raid, pillage, and destroy for King Cenhelm, and I shall defeat your foes. I am not like the other wolf in this camp; I am better than most.”
“And one day, “Antius asked, “you will stand over the current wolf, perhaps?”
Cenhelm looked down.
And that’s what was in his mind too. It had been in Erse and Ingulf’s. The Romans and Cenhelm’s own men had planted the thought there.
Perhaps Antius was right.
Perhaps I would eventually try to do just that. Being just a wolf amongst other wolves, even the very best wolf, would not suffice, especially if I was constantly challenged, and men were trying to get rid of me.
Nay, I would never be a follower.
Or could I be? With Father, my own blood leading, then…
I put a hand on my sword’s hilt. “What else can I do, Thiuda? I am not your enemy. I gave you even my honor. They call me a dog, and not you, and I smile. We wouldn’t be here, but you might be dead or chasing Red Raven in the woods right now, if not—”
The Wolf Page 20