And then, yet again, the water reached another bend in the river.
Without warning a Goth guard staggered through the opening of the tent. Both hands clutched a war-axe protruding from his forehead. He collapsed at my feet in a pool of blood.
A hand pushed aside the felt flap and the Hun warrior who had brought me to the king entered the tent.
“Lord”, he said, and bowed his head. “I fight for the Goth filth, it is true. But in here”, he pounded his chest with his fist, “I will always be a Hun. You are of the sacred blood of the Great Khan. I will not allow the blood of the father of us all to be spilled by the Goths.”
He handed me a scale shirt, the kind favoured by the Huns, and a plumed, full face helmet.
“Do you know the way of the horse, lord?” he asked. “We need to be quick. They will come after us.”
“Give me your name”, I said.
“I am the one they call Kursik, lord”, he said and bowed his head again.
“Yes, Kursik”, I replied. “I know the way of the horse. I was raised by Sigizan the Hun, my father’s champion.” I motioned for him to lead the way.
We walked through the camp to where the horses were kept. None afforded us a second glance.
Another Hun, a comrade of Kursik’s, was waiting with the horses. Kursik accepted the reins from the unnamed warrior. “May Ulgin guide your horse”, he said to Kursik, and they clasped arms.
The warrior handed me the reins of a Hun horse. “Go with the gods, lord. We will never forget the blood of the Khan.”
I nodded in acceptance of his words and jumped onto the back of the horse as only a Hun can. “I can see that his blood flows strong in you, lord”, he said and waved us off.
I turned my horse to the north, back the way we came from, but Kursik shook his head. “We will have to head south and west, lord. The countryside is swarming with Goths rounding up the remnants of the Germani army. Others are pursuing the Heruli and the Scirii. We will have to flee to the lands of the East Romans. It is the only way.”
The Roman road was illuminated by the light of the full moon, allowing us to ride at a reasonable pace.
When the sun peered over the eastern horizon we had placed thirty miles between us and Theodemir.
During the course of the morning we only stopped long enough to afford the horses time to recover. Come afternoon we were forced to sleep in the shrubs at the side of the road or risk injury by falling from the horses. When evening came we mounted again. Kursik produced a pouch filled with strips of dried deer meat and rounds of hard cheese. We ate in the saddle.
Even though the Hun horses were tireless, the hard riding combined with the lack of proper rest and feed was having an effect.
Before the arrival of the grey pre-dawn, we noticed our pursuers for the first time. The faint sound of iron-shod hooves striking the road carried on the fresh westerly breeze.
I kicked my horse, but Kursik admonished me. “They will only catch us sooner, lord. When they do, we will fight them.” He motioned to his strung bow. “They would not have sent Huns, lord. Huns would never harm you.” He spat in the dirt. “They are Goths for sure. We will fight and you will win a death worthy of the grandson of the Khan.” I nodded and he handed me my axe which I slipped through a loop attached to the saddle.
By the middle of the day we traversed a hilly, undulating landscape. Our horses were nearly spent when Kursik called a halt where the road crested a hill. We dismounted and moved to the side of the road. Kursik’s gaze was fixed on the crest of the hill behind us. He took his bow from the saddle and four arrows from the quiver.
He motioned with his chin to the road. “I will slow them down”, he said as the Goth riders came into view. In quick succession he released the arrows and two men fell from their saddles. The riders took cover in the shrubs along the side of the road.
We led our horses over the crest of the hill and mounted again, out of sight of our pursuers. We rode on the grass on the shoulder of the path to mask the sound of the hooves.
“Pray to Ulgin, lord”, Kursik said. “Ask him to give us a worthy death. Soon we will turn and make our last stand.” I nodded and did as he asked.
Three miles farther, at the bottom of a hill, where a small stream flowed across the road, Kursik dismounted. He took his weapons from his saddle, removed the tack from the head of his horse and threw it into the undergrowth. He unsheathed his dagger and cut the girth and the collar holding the saddle in place and it fell heavily onto the road. Then he stroked the head of the horse lovingly, whispered into its ear and slapped it on the rump. The horse disappeared into the trees.
I, too, set my horse free, and Kursik nodded his approval.
The Hun put his quivers against the saddle and placed a booted foot on the leather for balance, then he tested the draw of his horn bow.
I removed the cover from my axe, revealing the shining blade and the intricate etchings.
Less than two hundred paces from us, a rider appeared at the crest of the hill.
Kursik released two arrows, but the warrior was no fool and caught the arrows on his shield.
Twenty men crested the hill on foot, their large round shields protecting their bodies, spears held at the ready.
They advanced with caution, three ranks deep. These men were taking no chances. They were the oathsworn of Theodemir and they would not fail their king.
They advanced ten paces and abruptly came to a halt.
“Here they come”, Kursik said. But rather than breaking into a run which would herald our demise, the Goths retreated in the direction they came from.
Then we heard the shrill call of a buccina and a band of mounted warriors cantered down the hill behind us.
I grabbed Kursik’s arm to stay his hand. “Leave this to me, Kursik”, I said, and he placed his bow on the saddle. I removed my helmet and Kursik did the same.
The horsemen surrounded us. Their commander, a grizzled warrior with a red cloak and a red crest on his iron helmet addressed us in the tongue of the Romans.
“What are a Hun and a Heruli doing in this part of the Empire? And why are the Goths hunting you?” he asked.
My understanding of Latin was rudimentary, so I answered in Greek.
“We have survived a great battle, lord, between the armies of Theodemir and the warriors of the Germani tribes. We have fled before the Goths.”
The man regarded us for heartbeats.
He gave instructions to his men, who produced a spare horse without a rider.
“I am Decurion Stefanus. You will share your tale with our high general”, he replied. Then added, “He is a Greek. He will understand your blabbering.”
Epilogue
The men we encountered were the advance guard of the Romans, attached to the XIV Gemina, a comitatensis unit of the Eastern Empire.
They brought us to where the warriors of the Imperial Army of Thrace were encamped, on a wide expanse of ground next to an unnamed river.
We were escorted to the quarters of the Greek general, passing rows of similar-looking, neatly ordered tents.
The large tent in the centre of the camp was heavily guarded by Roman soldiers carrying spears and round shields, all sporting a red and blue circle around the boss with an eagle motif at the top. The Roman warriors eyed us with suspicion. In a show of open hostility, some even spat in the dust as we passed them.
Decurion Stefanus who escorted us entered the tent, and heartbeats later we were ushered in along with our guards.
An officer sat at the door of the general’s section, behind a small table. The decurion took a few steps forward, saluted, and conversed with the tribune in a hushed voice.
“The general is busy”, the tribune announced loudly in a haughty voice.
We stood in the waiting area for long, until a group of officers exited the main section of the tent, used as an office by the general.
The tribune stood and disappeared through the door to converse with the general.
Before long, the officer attending the door re-appeared and approached us. He studied us intently for a while, then spoke in Greek: “The Master of the Armies of Thrace wishes to hear your report in person, although I cautioned against it. The general is not some petty barbarian commander. This man answers only to the emperor, he is of consular rank!”
The Roman officer placed his hand under his nose to prevent our odour from overwhelming him, and shook his head in disgust.
“You will address the high general as ‘lord’”, he said and rolled his eyes in resignation.
I nodded to convey my understanding, but Kursik cleared his throat to draw my attention. I realised that the Hun did not understand a word of what was said. “We must address the man as ‘lord’”, I summarised for his benefit.
The tribune turned on his heel and led us into the presence of the Magister Melitum per Thracias.
The high general stood behind his desk. He was a tall, powerful man with thick curly black hair and a matching beard. I was sure that he had seen forty summers, yet no grey was visible in his hair.
The decurion saluted and came to attention. Kursik and I inclined our heads in a show of respect.
Stefanus told the tale of our capture. The general listened intently, his eyes never leaving us.
“… and these are the weapons that they carried”, he said, and with that, finished his report. He walked forward and placed my bearded axe and Kursik’s horn bow on the table.
The high general’s gaze shifted to the weapons displayed before him and froze. He removed the leather sheath from the head of the axe. The weapon dropped from his hands.
He pointed towards a brutish guard. “Oadas, only you will remain”, then he turned to the rest of his attendants. “Leave me with the prisoners”, he said.
Within heartbeats all departed and left us alone with the high general and one guard.
“Where did you get this axe, Heruli?” he said and pointed at me.
My eyes strayed to the hulking guard and the general set me at ease: “Speak, Herulian. He is my kin.”
I sighed, realising that I was in no position to deny this man. “This axe was a gift from an Isaurian”, I said, trying to keep my mentor’s identity a secret. Then I remembered the instruction from the tribune and added: “Lord.”
The high general scowled and narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “I too am an Isuarian”, he revealed.
“I ask you once more, Herulian”, he said, his voice carrying an edge. “Where did you come by this axe?”
I was treading a dangerous line. “May I enquire by what name you go by?” I asked, then added, “Lord”, which like heartbeats before, sounded all but respectful.
“I am Flavius Zeno”, the high general hissed.
“It is an honour to meet you, Lord Tarasis”, I replied in perfect Greek, and the mouth of the Magister Militum opened and closed without saying a word.
But I was not done yet and continued. “Your nephew, Trokondas, is safe in the land of Scandza. He wishes to return as soon as all obstacles are removed, lord”, I said, and offered him a friendly smile.
Historical Note
From the year 375 AD to 568 AD, massive re-settlement of peoples took place within Western Europe. Huns (in coalition with Germani and Scythian tribes) overran most of the Roman World. Following the death of Attila in 453 AD, the tribes split, triggering a second wave of re-settlement.
One of these tribes, said to be the most fearsome of all, the Heruli, forever left behind their origins on the Sea of Grass and settled in Scandinavia.
Main characters
Ragnaris is a Hun name with Germanic origins. He is a fictional character, following the journey of the Heruli through the fifth century AD.
Ildiko’s name is recorded in history. She was the bride of Attila and probably of Germanic origin.
The Heruli family and friends of Ragnaris are all fictional. That includes Abdarakos, Mourdagos, Sigizan, Atakam and Leodis.
Unni and Runa are fictional. They represent the Svear-people and their agrarian culture.
The name Trokondas is not fictional. Trokondas (or Trocundes) was an Isaurian general, famous in history with his brother Illus. Trokondas was often an ally of Zeno and often an enemy.
Theodemir was the king of the Ostrogoths.
Attila was the king or khan of the Huns.
Flavius Zeno was an Isaurian and reigned as Byzantine Emperor from 474 to 491 AD. (Albeit with a short interruption during 475/6 AD). His birth name was Tarasis Kodisa Rousombladadiotes.
Stranger from Another Land – Storyline
Attila, the king of the Huns, died in 453 AD, most probably due to internal bleeding as a result of heavy drinking during his wedding feast. He was the overlord of many Scythian and Germani tribes which the Huns had subdued over the years. Some scholars believe that he was murdered by Ildiko.
He had three sons. Ellac, Dengizich and Hernach.
Following the death of the Great Khan, the sons argued amongst themselves and wished to distribute the subdued nations, like slaves.
The tribes did not take kindly to this treatment and a series of wars ensued.
At the famous Battle of the Nedao River in 453 AD, the tribes (Heruli, Gepids, Scirii, Suebi and Rugii) defeated a Hun/Alan alliance under Ellac the Hun, who died in the fight. Some historians say that the Ostrogoths fought on the side of the Huns, others that they fought against the Huns. It seems that the majority believes that they did not join the fight at all.
In the aftermath of Nedao, the Heruli settled north of the Danube in Moravia, taking control of a portion of the lucrative Amber Road. This situation was ideally suited to the Heruli, as they were a predatory race, unlike many of the Germanic tribes, like the Goths, who were farmers.
At the time of this story the main grouping of Heruls resided in Moravia. A second grouping, known as the Western Heruls is believed to have made their home near the mouth of the Weser, close to the Saxons. These Heruli are deemed to be responsible for the raids along the coast of Spain and Gallia in 409, 455 and 459 AD. The Spanish bishop Hydatius writes in his chronicles that in the raid of 455 AD, the Heruli attacked in seven ships with four hundred warriors.
During the fourth century the Longobardi (Lombards) were migrating south and came in conflict with the Moravian Heruli.
After the power of the Huns was broken by the Germanic and Scythian tribes at Nedao, the victors started to jostle amongst themselves. It culminated in the battle of the River Bolia in 469 AD (near Csem in present day Hungary) where the Ostrogoths, under Theodimir, defeated a combined force of Suebi, Scirii, Rugi, Gepids and Heruli. The Byzantine emperor, Leo the Thracian, dispatched an army to support the war against the Ostrogoths, but they turned back, probably after learning of the defeat of the alliance. Aspar, from the start, cautioned against supporting the alliance against the Ostrogoths. There is no evidence of the Western emperor, Anthemius, supporting the war against the Ostrogoths, but he was an ally of Leo the Thracian and it is not impossible that they would have shown their support in some way. During this time, Flavius Odovakar, or Ottoghar, the Scirii prince became a senior officer within the Western Roman army.
I blamed the defeat at Bolia on Hunimund. (My apologies, lord king.) Little is known of the battle apart from the participants and the outcome.
In the year 469 AD, during which he held the honour of the consulate, Zeno (Tarasis) was appointed magister militum per Tharacias and led an expedition in Thrace, probably against the Goths in support of the Germani tribes.
Random items
Blood rain is a widespread phenomenon that is documented frequently in history. Until the 17th century it was believed that it was actual blood falling from the sky. It is no surprise that it was regarded as a bad omen. Today scientists agree that it is caused by aerial spores of green microalgae.
The reading of the shoulder bones and the liver are well-known shamanic practices. The same applies to the vapour bath of the Scythian
s.
I have taken the liberty to assume that the Huns and the Heruli used tents similar to those of the Mongols.
The treatment of clubfoot as recommended by Hippocrates is similar to the modern techniques.
In Tengriism, a shamanic religion of central Asia, Ulgen is the son of Tengri. I used Ulgin, as it sounds more like the name of the Norse god Odin. Odin, with his shamanic characteristics, is said to have been introduced to the Svear by the Heruli/Huns.
The story of Ulgin healing the horse of Baldur, I introduced as one originating with the Huns/Heruli, as both horses and Odin are linked to the Scythian culture.
Budorigum is an old name of the town of Wroclaw in Poland on the banks of the Oder. In days of old two important trade routes intersected here: The Amber Road and the Via Regia.
Many cultures, including the Romans and the Huns, employed learned Greeks as tutors and administrators. I see no reason why the Heruli who controlled a portion of the Amber Road and were close allies of Attila’s, would not.
There are a multitude of theories regarding the origin of the name of the Lombards. I have decided to combine the two I found most credible. The one referring to the length of their beards and the second that they worshipped the grey-bearded god, most probably Odin/Woden.
Odoaker/Odoacer is presumed to be a Scirii or a Thuringian. The root form of his name is believed to be Ottoghar, meaning grass-born. This famous barbarian will feature again in the second book.
In the ancient world, it was not uncommon to write on an ostracon, or pottery shard.
Valr’s boat I modelled on the larger of the two clinker built boats excavated from a bog near Nydam in present day Denmark. The boats date back to the first half of the fourth century AD.
The Romans referred to the Baltic Sea as the Mare Suebicum, but from the Viking age, it was known as the Austmarr, or Eastern Sea. It made more sense to call it the Austmarr, from the perspective of the tribes.
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