Adalwulf: The Two Swords (Tales of Germania Book 1) (29 page)

“Y
ou listen to me,” Decimus hissed. “I have things to say. You—”

“The treasure is gone,” I told him with finality, and saw him clench his jaw. “Gone for good. Forget it. There is no battle to be had to save it, no way to regain it unless you command an army and cross the river. I know you are mad with the thought of gold and silver, Roman, but unless your Mars takes interest in the matter and hands it to you, you will not get it. So shut up, and cry silently.”

“You bastard,” he cursed me. “You rot-tit, barbaric thief! It was my future.
Mine!”

“You’ll join your bride soon enough,” I said with a chuckle, and toed Elisedd’s corpse. “Perhaps she is waiting for you. I hope she makes you miserable in the afterlife. In fact, scream if you want, Decimus. I care not.”

“I’m not a woman,” he spat. “I’ll take it standing up.”

“No, you’ll just sit there with your legs crossed when I kill you,” I spat at him and grimaced as I turned to look to the depths of the cave. “Leuthard?”

Iodocus grabbed the spear left by Elisedd, and grimly regarded the terrible man in the end of the hall. I walked there, and crouched before him. “You killed Bait.”

He laughed gutturally. “You don’t know the half of it. I did what I promised, should he fail. He hated you, Adalwulf, but not like I hate you. You with your lies, trying to fool us. But taking my lord’s treasure, the one I guarded, was well done. And I’ll find it. I’ll find Danr.”

“No, you won’t,” I said simply. “And now, I need you to start talking. Hulderic’s sword. Where can I find the rat-eaters?”

He shrugged. “Come now. You saw me out there. You think breaking my fingers and toes will get me talking? No, I’ll come back from the dead and hunt you all down.”

I nodded bravely, his promise oddly believable.
Come back from the dead?
“You would do that for Bero?”

He spat, looking at me murderously. “Bero? He has paid me well. Man should serve the one who pays him. But no, I’ll do it for
me
. You’ve grown too tall for yourself, lad. Kill me now. I care not. I’ll find you later, trust me. Kill me. Isn’t that what you want?” he mocked me with a tilted head and an inane smile. “You need to be angry to kill me? Fine. Bait. The boy. He whimpered like a baby. And the bitch.” He smiled spitefully, and I had to stop myself from smashing the hammer in his head.

“Which bitch?” I growled, and placed the hammer under his chin. “Gisil? Ingrid?”

He smiled. “Let’s not pretend. You know everything, except what Raganthar will do with the sword. Well, most everything. There are things you’d love to know. About Gisil.”

“Is Gisil alive?” I asked him harshly and pushed the hammer.

It didn’t bother him. It was like pushing iron at a rocky wall. He thought about it and grinned. “Why not? I’ll tell you that. She’s alive. Raganthar needs her.”

“Why?”

“
That
I won’t tell you,” he laughed. “I’ll let you find out.”

“Their den. The place where they live. Where there are holed up in? Do you know more?” I asked him.

He shrugged, smiling. “I
think
I know what they’ll do with the weapon. I’ve got a pretty good guess, at least. Though not
where
,” he said, enjoying my discomfort, as if he was feeding off it. “Did you wish to know what I did to Ingrid? She didn’t enjoy it.”

I hated him. I hated him enough to make the darkness creep in, and Woden’s rage surged in my veins. He saw it, and smiled. “It will be interesting, if we ever truly fight. Perhaps I’ll tell you more to see how far you’ll go. Ingrid.”

“Shut up,” I hissed.

“Adalwulf—” Iodocus began.

“You shut up as well,” I roared.

Leuthard tilted his head forward. “I left her alive. A bit alive, at least. Her hair came with me. She ran, ran far in the night. I let her go for a moment, and she feared so much as she panted. I saw every movement of hers. I was always near as I ran after her. Oh, how she feared. She pissed herself. She pissed and shat herself when I caught her, and what I left for the ants, wasn’t a woman. Oh, worry not, I didn’t touch her like that. I ripped her apart, slowly. Perhaps I’ll do that to Ermendrud one day? The little bitch that told Fulch lies about Helm? She’s part of this, isn’t she?”

I hit him with the hammer.

They had left the chain mail on him, the armor jingled with the strike, and he yelped as the weapon smacked down on his belly. He turned to his side, laughing and vomiting, as I stood over him, trembling. “You’ll tell me where they are. And I’ll send you on your way. I’ll do that for you. You don’t deserve it, but I’ll send you to Hel. And you won’t come back.”

He was forcing the words out breathlessly, vomit on his beard. “I’ll go elsewhere, Adalwulf. And I’ll come back. We have that power, you see. Kill us, and the god promised us we’d return. Once. We can return once. Perhaps more, if we have pleased him well. And I have.”

“What filthy god is this?” I hissed.

“Hati,” he whispered. “Hati the Wolf, the son of Fenfir, who is the son of Lok. Hati is the Sky-Wolf, like his day-faring brother Sköll. I’ll be back,” he grinned. “Once. At least once.”

“I’ll kill you twice, then,” I roared, and pressed a palm on my face as I tried to calm myself.
Ingrid. Poor Ingrid
. I should have told her to hide away.

“You failed to protect them,” he whispered, looking at me, his eyes bright and deadly, and I felt he had read my mind. “And I’ll not help you.”

I grasped the Feud Settler from my back, and his face went slack and serious as I turned the sword before his eyes. They followed it, as if they would the face of a lover. “Iodocus,” I said steadily.

“Lord?” he said, calling me that for the first time.

“You’ll take this bit of coward’s steel,” I told him. “You’ll go silently and softly, and find Danr. Or he’ll find you. Then hide away near Hard Hill, and if I don’t come to Balderich's hall in five days’ time, you throw it into a river. No, better, piss on it, and have some smith smelt it. Then have it made into a plough.”

Leuthard sat up straight, still looking at the blade.

“I can’t leave you,” Iodocus whispered as he crouched next to me.

“Danr said the same thing. You’ll leave me all right,” I said tightly. “Do not worry. Leuthard here will get it back, if he aids me. I think he will do it.”

“Why would I get it back once you get what you want?” he asked, surprisingly calm and sane for once.

I poked him with the blade. “We’ll go on a trip together. We’ll plod through shit and piss, find out a very dark secret, you Hati humped spawn of evil. We will suffer and hate each other all through it. In the end, I get what I want. I get Hulderic’s sword. I get to know what happened to Gisil. I’ll be sad and filled with hate, and then you and I will meet somewhere. We’ll meet and fight to the death, and you’ll use this blade. I’ll use this hammer. And then you get to come back alive, as you threatened. That’s what you get. A fight, and a chance to keep your filthy life. And the sword. You love it more than Bero.”

He sat there, and unable to take his eyes off the blade. It was his life. It was his legacy, as old as time, handed to him by his father, and his
only
real
weak spot. “What do you want, exactly? A trip?”

I nodded. “You will help me with everything I need. First, we find Raganthar. We’ll go to the—”

He spat. “To the Den. Where the Brethren live,” he said tiredly. His eyes twinkled, and then he was laughing softly, shaking his head. I saw him pulling at his bonds, and I heard the rope creak, but the Gauls had been especially careful with him, and so he couldn’t break free. He relaxed, though his eyes didn’t leave the sword. “I’ll take you there.”

“Then, you’ll aid me in recovering it,” I snarled, and handed the sword to Iodocus. “You’ll aid me, and you’ll fight the bastards for me.”

“You want me to fight them?” he mused. “I will, all save one.”

“That Ear?” I asked. “The one you seemed keen on keeping safe?”

“Yes,” he said with shrug. “Don’t want him dead. Raganthar, I don’t care about.”

“I don’t give a shit about your friends. I’m surprised you have any, but if he stands in my way, I’ll have his head. You’ll give your oath to me, or your heritage will be used to plough mud and shit.”

He grimaced at the thought. “Ear will obey me. He survives, and I’ll help you.”

I shrugged. “You’ll give an oath to me. Serve me until I have that sword. I’ll give you your steel in the Hard Hill.”

He glowered at me, and looked over my shoulder at the Roman and Iodocus. He smiled wolfishly, and his teeth flashed. “I give the oath. And you are right. So very right. You’ll weep after this journey. Long before we fight, even.”

I nodded. “So be it.”

I got up and walked away. Iodocus shuddered as he took the blade in both hands. “I’m to go away then?”

“Go,” I said. “You and Danr will survive this, friend. The rest is up to me.”

He wanted to say something more, but I smiled at him, clasped him to me, and whispered farewells to his ear. He smiled, spat at Leuthard’s feet, and left with the sword. I stood there, staring into the darkness he left behind, and wished him well. I ignored Decimus, who was scowling, half forgotten, and I kneeled next to Leuthard.

He growled. It was not a man’s growl, but that of an irate animal, and he shifted in his seat. “This is all fine and well. But how will you stop the man? Raganthar is more that a match for you. He has enough men to kill me, even.”

“But you’ll come back, right?” I mocked him. “I’ll try, and so will you. That’s the best we can do. Two weeks ago, I had never fought in a shieldwall, and now I have slain many. Few men do that, and live to boast about it.”

“I did that,” he said angrily. “I killed ten men in my first fight up north.” He heaved a huge breath. “I’ll lead you to them. Bero won’t be happy, but he can go hump himself. I want the sword and your head, and that’s the game, then. Sword for a sword, and one head at the end of the road. Untie me.”

“Let’s give Iodocus some time to get lost. Do you have any idea what they’ll do with it?” I asked him. “You said you have a guess.”

“I have a guess,” he said with a beastly smile. “They are mercenaries. Many use their services here on this side of the river. Some hire them over on our side. I didn’t ask, but come now. You know. You heard us speaking. He wanted the blade, and someone hired him to use the sword to—” He went silent.

“To what?” I asked brusquely. “I know they will kill someone to embroil the Marcomanni in a war. It’s a perfect tool for that. Kill a famous man, or a woman, and leave it there. Everyone knows who is to blame.”

He shrugged. “Yes. They’ll kill a man to discredit Hulderic. And more, the Marcomanni. It’s a well-known weapon, like mine,” he said with resentment. “Well-known.”

I rubbed my forehead, but Decimus spoke up. There was a note of worry in his voice. “How would they discredit this Hulderic? They’ll kill a Roman?”

Leuthard stretched his legs. “Something like that. They are planning on leaving the sword in the gut of someone high and mighty. Very high, very mighty. Roman. A legate, a noble? It will be someone who matters.”

“Do you know who hired them?” I asked him.

“Someone who will benefit from a Roman war with the Marcomanni, obviously,” he said with a bored voice. “I don’t know who. It could be anyone. He’ll be hard to stop out there. The Romans won’t trust you, or me. And Raganthar will have allies and conspirators helping him along. A plan like this must be executed perfectly. I don’t care if he dies at your hand, Adalwulf, but it is unlikely when we have no allies in the Roman service.”

We went quiet.

We turned to look at the Roman, and he had a huge grin on his face. “Did you say they plan on killing some high Roman?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Someone who matters.”

His face took on a sympathetic frown. “A noble quest you are on, Adalwulf. For a sword. For peace? For a … woman? I see you love her.”

“Yes,” I said angrily. “I’m not a woman you have humped, you fop. Stop trying to charm me.”

Decimus snorted, and the indolent look disappeared. “It sounds like a promotion to me. Money, glory. It might make me feel better about losing the coins. It would do well to explain why I lost my men, their gear. A conspiracy. I’ll be celebrated. Stopping the murder will make me a hero. I will help you. I imagine it won’t be someone meaningless they are after, is it? To start a war, you kill someone that matters. I agree with you.” He mulled it over. “Likely, it will take place in Moganticum. That’s where we should go. They will know the blade of this Hulderic. And many high Romans visit the place.”