Adalwulf: The Two Swords (Tales of Germania Book 1) by Alaric Longward Page B

killed? I stiffened with horror. They had wanted to have some fool in this hall. And apparently, that fool had been me. And Gisil had taken me in for them, not knowing better. “Wait—”
    The warrior went on, grinding down as if he was determined to see how much the floor could take. “Is that so? You are a Chatti out to kill our lord, Hulderic? Because he beats your warbands every year? Beats them like a band of small boys, eh? And you can’t take it like men. Hall-burning and robbery in the night is your lot. Lucky for us, you failed to kill my lord. You failed, because Woden spits on cowards. But answer this,” he said icily, with a chilling threat thrumming in the voice, and I didn’t expect to survive the man’s wrath much longer. “Where, my friend is Gisil and the sword? You filth. Where do you hole up in? Tell me this, and you’ll go on your way with a snap of neck, and need not suffer.”
    “I came here—”
    “To rob, to murder, and you did, didn’t you?” the man continued, and I turned my face for Hulderic, hoping to find a more reasonable man there, one to hear me out, at least.
    It was a face carved of stone, his brown, long beard finely plaited, and his eyes gave nothing away. I tried to talk to the statue anyway.
    “I didn’t come here to rob you! I fought them ! This is not,” I said, and tugged at the cloak that had been tied around me, “mine. I have nothing against the Marcomanni, and I have left the Chatti. They didn’t do this, anyhow. Not their way, no matter how many warbands you beat previously. I was looking for work, for a lord in the Hard Hill, when Gisil found me, and claimed she had seen how I’d help you, Lord Hulderic the Goth! But they left me here as a scapegoat—”
    “Help yourself to his things, yea?” the man above me growled, his face red with fury, the sort that built up like a storm. “Gisil found you indeed. She found you having a fight, and helped you. In reality, you were pretending to have one, and so you got inside, because she had a good heart, and you are filth.”
    “No, I—”
    “You killed our men. You killed Cerunnos. Teutorigos, his father? He is outside. You should be glad he is still crying over the body of his precious boy, because he’d be ripping your guts out right now, if he saw you here alive. Oh, no. Don’t you hope to survive this,” he chortled, though in reality, I had experienced no such thoughts of hope. “No, you will die. But it is best to die with dignity then be eviscerated. Yes, this crime will be paid back, and we start with your life. We’ll string you up right now, if you don’t speak. Where did your kin take Gisil and the sword?” He kicked me hard on the side, and I yelped.
    “Easy, Harmod, ” the older Goth lord rumbled, and spoke to me softly. “Did you come here with the Chatti, boy? Whose warband do you belong to? Or do you truly claim you are not their warrior? I know your speech. You’re from Mattium, or thereabouts.” He had a powerful jaw, and keen, blue eyes. His face was scarred, and his skin leathery and brown, and while his voice was not unkind, I knew he was about to decide on my fate. His men looked on, having lost brothers and friends, and I’d pay the price. This was all so far from Gisil’s vision, me serving as this man’s champion. Perhaps the gods had played her a fool, and were laughing like demented idiots?
    “I am a Chatti named Adalwulf, and yes, I was born in Mattium,” I said thinly, not sure how to slither out of the dilemma. There was no reason they’d believe me. “But I didn’t come here with others of my kind. Nor were there others waiting for me. No. I know nothing of this Chatti who supposedly was looking for me! Except—”
    “They say there was a Chatti in the town, some days past, nonetheless,” Hulderic said. “He was looking for you , Adalwulf. Explain that.”
    I sputtered. “I cannot! And who are “they”? I wouldn’t know why someone would be looking for