GUNHILD RELEASED GUNDERIC’S hand and he took a swig of his wine. Then he clicked his fingers to those seated nearby and gestured that they should all go away. When only Sigurd, Gunhild and Gunderic remained at the table he leaned forwards.
‘It seems,’ Gunderic said in a low voice that suggested he did not want anyone overhearing, ‘that the Magister Militum, General Aetius, is perhaps not the upstanding Roman Patrician he would have everyone to think he is.’
‘A corrupt Roman politician?’ Gunhild said, shaking her head. ‘What a surprise.’
‘He was a good general,’ Gunderic said. ‘He really was. Like others though I suppose a time comes when one has to look to their own future. It was Aetius who asked about the treasure our father won from the Huns. I did not just offer the knowledge up to him. When Aetius was seventeen Rome sent him as a hostage to the king of the Huns. He spent many years living among them and still keeps in contact with people there. He had heard of the raid our father carried out on the Huns. How their King Oktar was killed and how they lost a vast hoard of gold and treasure. It was a great disgrace for them. So I made the arrangement with Aetius. He got us our treaty and we were granted our new land. In exchange I told him our father’s hiding place for the treasure.’
‘And the Romans have it now,’ Gunhild said.
‘No. That’s just it,’ Gunderic said with a chuckle. ‘I should have known Aetius was up to something when he told me not to mention the gold to anyone. Anyway: as far as I was concerned it was gone and I—’
He stopped and glanced at her.
‘We, would have to build up everything from scratch,’ he went on. ‘What did it matter? I had a new kingdom to lead my people to. I felt like that man God sent to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. What was his name again?’
Gunhild frowned, trying to remember. She had become a Christian with the rest of the Burgundars on the orders of her father when she was twelve. Within six winters the Burgundar kingdom had fallen and for most of the time since she had been living among the heathens in the north. Her knowledge of the religion was a little rusty.
‘Moses!’ Gunderic found the name himself. ‘Just like Moses, God must have been on my side. Aetius must have decided to keep the treasure all to himself, or at least keep it as secret as possible. The legions did not march back to Vorbetomagus. Instead there was a small Roman delegation on its way to meet the Huns north of the Rhine. They were from the Eastern Empire: important officials accompanied by elite cavalry, but nevertheless only a few units.’
‘What were Eastern Romans doing in Germania?’ Gunhild said. ‘It’s a long way from Constantinople.’
‘They were trying to negotiate with the Huns. In the Western Empire, Aetius may have had the Huns on his side,’ Gunderic said, ‘but they’ve crossed the Danube and cut a bloody swathe through the lands of the Eastern Empire. You heard Lucius earlier: the Huns always have two kings.’
‘Two?’ Gunhild said. She could not imagine her father sharing the kingship with anyone. ‘Does that work?’
‘It stops one man becoming too powerful, they believe,’ Gunderic said. ‘Apparently they had a sole ruler once and the fellow started thinking he was a god. He caused all sorts of problems. The idea is that with two kings, each one can keep the other in check.’
‘What if there is a disagreement between them?’ Gunhild said, looking sideways at her brother. ‘Such things happen. Especially between siblings.’
‘Then they kill each other,’ Gunderic said with a grin. ‘They used to have a holy sword, sacred to their War God, which passed between them year about. The Huns thought it granted ultimate power. Whichever king bore it made the final decisions.’
Gunhild glanced at the now sheathed sword at her new husband’s side. The cavalry commander had commented on its Hunnish curve. Her mind raced ahead of her brother’s words as everything fell into place like the tessella tiles that made the pictures on the floor below.
‘After Oktar’s death, Ruga did indeed rule alone,’ Gunderic said. ‘But when he died they reinstated the dual kingship. Ruga’s nephews, Bleda and Attila, took over. Bleda works with the Romans in the West but Attila has been running riot in the East.’
‘And these Eastern Romans were trying to stop that?’ Gunhild said.
‘The classic Roman tactic: divide and conquer,’ Gunderic said, tapping a forefinger on the table. ‘Aetius’s Eastern counterpart, Flavius Ardabur Aspar, was on a mission to meet Bleda to see if he might be persuaded to oust his less friendly brother Attila. Our friend Aetius made them take a detour through Vorbetomagus on the way. They dug up our father’s treasure where I told Aetius he could find it.’
Gunderic moved his gaze away from his sister. She could sense his shame at what he had done.
‘So the Romans did take it all,’ she said. She felt tears in her eyes but did not let them fall. She had begun to hope that the vast hoard of wealth somehow might still be there, for her to take her share of and with it a chance for her to win her own freedom. She almost envied Brynhild, with a realm of her own in the mountains. Though it must be poor, she thought. There was no wealth to be had up there and squeezing a living from the land would be hard work.
‘They did,’ Gunderic said, his face lighting up again. ‘But not for long. They went further north-east to meet the Huns, who were raiding along the Rhine at the time. While they were waiting at the prescribed meeting place they were ambushed. The cavalry escort and soldiers were wiped out. When Bleda and the Huns arrived, all that was left was the looted caravan and a few survivors either too badly wounded or incapable of running away.’
‘Who did this?’ Gunhild said in a breathless voice.
‘I did,’ Sigurd said, beaming from ear to ear. ‘After our folk were decimated at Vorbetomagus, my mother sent me for safety to her uncle who was a nobleman in Santen. The Eastern Romans crossed our lands without permission. We had a right to extract tribute from them.’
‘I thought you were brought up by a blacksmith?’ Gunhild said.
‘For a little time, that is true,’ Sigurd said, his smile fading a little. ‘When I first arrived in Santen my uncle was frightened of what the Romans might do if they found he was harbouring one of the Burgundar nobles, so he sent me to work for his smith. That was an act of cowardice he lived to regret.’
‘How so?’ Gunhild said.
‘The blacksmith was no ordinary servant,’ Sigurd said. ‘He was called Regin and he was in fact a disgraced old warrior of my uncle’s. He had been maimed and made to work in my uncle’s smithy as punishment for some misdeed. Naturally Regin harboured a grudge. He taught me how to fight. How to plot and scheme. When the time came we killed my uncle and I became Lord of Santen.’
‘Sigurd and his warband ambushed the Romans before they met the Huns,’ Gunderic said. ‘They never knew what hit them. As far as Aetius is concerned, the treasure was lost in a random attack by unknown but very lucky Germans, many miles north of here.’
‘We have much to thank you for,’ Gunhild said, smiling at her new husband and looking at him with new eyes. ‘You have regained the treasure hoard of our father.’
‘The treasure hoard of the Burgundar folk,’ Sigurd said, leaning forward. ‘And I do not need your thanks. The only reward I asked for was the hand of the most beautiful woman in the world in marriage. And my share, obviously.’
‘We have the wealth we need to start building a new kingdom,’ Gunderic said. He looked around him, a faraway expression on his face. ‘I will renovate this hall. We will cut down that tree and repair the roof. The floors will be re-laid. We will have tapestries woven that tell the lore of our folk. This hall will become famous throughout the world as the home of heroes.’
‘You might have to keep the tree,’ Gunhild said with a smile. ‘I suspect it is now all that is holding the roof up.’
‘I will keep it then,’ Gunderic said, the faraway look still in his eyes. ‘It is a symbol of the new roots we have put down here, and the mighty trunk that will grow from them.’
‘But Aetius must suspect something,’ Gunhild said. ‘You heard Lucius. He and Flavius were told to be on the lookout for that sword.’
‘Aye,’ Gunderic said, taking another drink of wine then biting his lower lip. ‘I wonder how he came to that conclusion?’
‘You said yourself he’s not stupid,’ Gunhild said. ‘But when will I see this hoard of treasure? I am entitled to my share, after all. It belonged to my father too.’
A strange expression crossed Gunderic’s face. Gunhild was not sure if it was rage or suspicion. Then it was gone.
‘All in good time, sister,’ Gunderic said. ‘It is well hidden not far from Geneva, just like our father hid it near Vorbetomagus. You will have your share, but no one else ever will. Ever. It will only be the three of us, understand?’
There was an urgency in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes that reminded Gunhild a little of their father when the gold sickness had struck him. She nodded.
‘You made a very bold move tonight,’ Gunhild said. ‘We killed Roman soldiers and important officials. We killed a man of God in his church. I hope it was worth it.’
Gunderic set down his wine cup and lifted the bloody spear, regarding it with a thoughtful look for a few moments.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘from ancient times to the times of our fathers, our people always made a sacrifice at the most important times in the destiny of the people. They killed beasts. At really important times they killed men. This, tonight, was our sacrifice. This was the blood sacrifice that will usher in the new dawn of the Burgundar kingdom.’
For a few moments no one spoke. Then Gunhild said, ‘If this was a sacrifice, who were we honouring?’
At that moment there came a loud knock on the door of the hall.