‘I HAVE BEEN SLEEPING my way around the slaves,’ Zerco said, waving around a wine goblet that was too large for him. ‘They are by and large wonderful girls and can be most obliging if you pay them enough.’
It was late in the evening. The fires in Gunderic’s hall burned low and most people had gone to bed. Hagan and the others had returned from Brynhild’s realm a few days before and there had been a couple of nights of celebration. After that feasting everyone had been busy preparing Geneva and the great hall for the king’s upcoming wedding. Floors were swept, flowers and greenery brought in from the meadows and forests to decorate walls and tables as servants began brewing ale.
Hagan set off on a quest in the hope of finding some old friends or perhaps even surviving relatives. After a few days however, it became apparent that what he had already been told was true: he was indeed the last of the Dagelungs. Many of the folk had heard of Godegisil, the mighty champion of the tribe, or his beautiful wife Gunteka. A few had even known some of his old friends, but all of them were sure none now dwelt in the new kingdom of the Burgundars.
Resigned to the fact, Hagan took on his new responsibility as Hunt Master and led the huntsmen into the forests to find game for the tables. Now all was ready and, tired from the preparations and feasts, most folk had retired to bed. All that had to be done now was wait for the bride to arrive.
With that waiting came the question: would Brynhild turn up?
Now, in the quiet of the hall, Zerco and Hagan sat at a bench, sharing a jug of wine. Despite the efforts of a day’s hunting, Hagan found it hard to relax. He had, without meaning to, made an enemy of Sigurd, so he had made it his habit not to go to bed until well after everyone else had, in order to make sure he was the last to fall asleep. He did not think Sigurd would try anything in Gunderic’s hall, but neither did he want to take any chances.
This was the first time Zerco and Hagan had been alone since arriving in Geneva and Hagan was interested to know what the little man had been up to while he and the others had been away. Perhaps it was the journey they had made together, or the fact that they shared the secret knowledge of Aetius’s interest in the treasure, but despite his previous discomfort in the presence of Zerco, Hagan found it strange that he felt more comfortable in his company than among those supposed to be his own folk.
Zerco was only too happy to share with Hagan what he had been up to while everyone else had been away.
‘Slaves are also useful if you want to know things,’ he said. ‘People ignore them. They forget they’re human beings and talk freely in their presence. A slave also can go anywhere in a house. Trust me: if you want to get close to an emperor or a king, use a slave.’
‘I hope you didn’t abuse the power you have over these poor girls,’ Hagan said. ‘Remember those not free are at the mercy of those who are.’
‘You forget that I’ve been treated no better than a slave all my life,’ Zerco said. ‘They see me as one of them. They take me into their confidence and if I happen to reveal I have some gold or silver to share, well…’
He left the rest to Hagan’s imagination.
‘So what did you learn from these slaves?’ he said.
‘The treasure is here in Geneva for sure,’ Zerco said, leaning close and speaking in a conspiratorial tone. ‘There is wealth aplenty.’
‘Anyone can see that,’ Hagan said. ‘Where is it, though? I’ve seen no sign of a treasury or strong room anywhere.’
‘No one knows,’ Zerco said. ‘But it’s widely believed the big man, Sigurd, possesses it, or at least is the keeper of it. That makes sense to me. I told you I saw the man who led the raid on Aspar’s cohort and he was a giant. He had a helmet on but I’m pretty sure it was him. Have you not noticed his armour as well?’
‘The odd metal scales?’ Hagan said. ‘Yes I have. What about it?’
‘It’s Byzantine,’ Zerco said. ‘Soldiers of the Eastern Roman Army wear it. It’s the most effective body protection in the world. The dragon troopers who accompanied Aspar were all wearing coats of it when we were ambushed. He must have taken it from one of their corpses.’
‘It certainly wasn’t made for him,’ Hagan said and told Zerco about how Sigurd’s armour did not meet at the back.
‘Two coincidences? I don’t think so,’ Zerco said. ‘He took that treasure. That sword he bears must be the one Attila is after.’
‘Gunhild said it was the Sword of Tiwass,’ Hagan said. ‘Tiwass is our war god, not the Huns’.’
‘Tiwass, Mars, Ammon, Jehovah – what does a name matter?’ Zerco said. ‘Everyone will call it by the name of whatever bloodthirsty deity they claim demands they slaughter their neighbours and steal their land. Sigurd found that wealth and he has it hidden somewhere. He shares it with Gunderic, probably to buy favour. They say he is touchy about having spent time as the slave of a blacksmith and is desperate to erase what he sees as that blight on his nobility by achieving a crown himself.’
Hagan nodded, thinking how fast Sigurd had come up with his request to be Gunderic’s successor as the price for him leaping the ravine.
‘That he shares it with the king is certain,’ Zerco continued. ‘You can see that with your own eyes. The Burgundars are a rich folk. The war gear for their horde, the jewellery the noble women wear, the food they have, it all comes from Gunderic, but Gunderic got it from Sigurd. Only Gunderic, Sigurd and his wife know where the gold is hidden.’
‘Really?’ Hagan said. ‘That’s hard to believe.’
‘When they need to draw gold from wherever the hoard is hidden they always go together,’ Zerco said. ‘Probably in case one of them runs off with it. They trust each other so little. Sometimes they take slaves with them to help load up horses. When they do those slaves never return. The rest of the slaves tell me they dread being picked to go if it’s announced that Gunhild, Gunderic and Sigurd are going on an expedition together. Once the previous Burgundar Hunt Master, Heiric, stumbled over them by accident while chasing a deer.’
Zerco leaned closer to Hagan.
‘The next day he was seized by Gunderic’s warriors and accused of treason,’ the little man said from the side of his mouth. ‘They say, he tried to fight them and was killed in the process. But we both know what that means, right? Gunderic had him killed.’
Hagan frowned, thinking of Gunderic’s comment when he had been appointed chief huntsman. Had his old friends really become so ruthless, so corrupted by gold?
‘No,’ Zerco said, shaking his head. ‘No one knows where the treasure is but those three, and they are thick as thieves.’
‘So they’ve replaced me with Sigurd,’ Hagan said, with a sardonic grunt. ‘The three of us – and Brynhild – used to be close friends.’
‘Used to be, eh?’ Zerco said, raising an eyebrow as if he found this information very interesting. ‘Friendship tends to wither fast when power and gold come into play. Well, I can tell you another thing. We aren’t the only people sneaking around asking about the treasure.’
‘Who else is?’ Hagan said.
‘The old man,’ Zerco said. ‘The one with only one eye. He plays the loyal servant but he’s creeping about, poking his nose around, looking for the gold.’
‘I’d have thought he could have used his Raven Warriors to find it,’ Hagan said.
‘Then he’d have to share it with them,’ Zerco said, shooting a glance at Hagan that suggested he regarded Hagan as slow-witted. ‘But those raven fighters are a fearsome lot, I can tell you. Wodnas has turned every one of them into stone-hearted killers. They’re completely loyal to him and everyone fears them.’
‘Warriors usually need blooding in battle to become that way,’ Hagan said. ‘The Ravens are young men. I didn’t think the Burgundars of this new kingdom had been in any real wars yet. A few raids maybe.’
Zerco glanced around, then leaned even closer.
‘They say,’ he said, his voice little more than a breathless whisper, ‘that when Wodnas completes the training of a band of new Raven Warriors an initiation ritual takes place. Wodnas takes them into the forest by night. A hunt takes place. Except they don’t hunt animals. They hunt people. The new raven warriors must find a victim and kill them. It doesn’t matter who it is. If they don’t kill someone they cannot join the Raven Warriors, so every one of them makes sure he does.’
‘Ah. They say, do they, Zerco,’ Hagan said rolling his eyes. ‘Is this more slaves’ gossip? Are you seriously saying that Gunderic allows Wodnas and his Raven Warriors to ride around the forest at night murdering folk?’
‘Take it as you will,’ Zerco said, jutting out his lower lip. ‘But the local folk all know that on nights when Wodnas’ Wild Hunt is abroad, they should stay indoors.’
‘Well this is all very interesting,’ Hagan said. ‘It seems there’s a lot more going on in Geneva than meets the eye.’
‘Or the one eye,’ Zerco said, in a poor attempt at humour. He sat back, the smile on his face showing how pleased he was with himself. ‘But if we’re going to find the treasure we need to keep both our eyes open. The chance might come soon, too.’
‘Really?’ Hagan said.
‘The king’s wedding – if Brynhild actually arrives – will need to be paid for,’ Zerco said. ‘Marriage feasts are expensive and Gunderic will need gold and silver for his new bride. They will need to visit the treasure hoard before the wedding to draw on its wealth. When he does, we can follow them.’
Hagan nodded. He was not sure why he was still playing along with this treasure hunt and potentially betraying his own folk, but the trip to the mountains and his recent confrontation with Sigurd had left him uneasy. All was not as rosy as it seemed in the new kingdom.
‘I’ll tell you another thing,’ Zerco said. ‘The war is starting. Rome is on the march. Aetius has gathered his army in south-west Gaul – just outside Arelate. Then they are moving to Lugdunum to pick up more allies: they will be right beside this kingdom. Meanwhile Theodoric is leading his Visigoths north from Tolosa. They aim to meet at Aurelianum and stop the Huns there. Aetius thinks if he does not stop them there the war is lost. Old one-eye knows this too but there is no talk of it.’
‘How do you know this?’ Hagan said. ‘Slaves again?’
‘I heard this one myself,’ Zerco said. ‘I am like a slave in the respect that people ignore me, or dismiss me as stupid, ignorant or incapable of understanding their language. Even if I can, of what consequence is a freak like they think me to be? So they talk freely as if I am not there. I was nearby when one of Wodnas’ Raven Warriors came to him to report it. That strange man Lokke knows it too.’
Hagan scratched his chin. Unlike Zerco’s other gossip, which just confirmed what they had already suspected, this was news indeed. Also, while he had no doubt others looked on Zerco as inconsequent, from what he had seen of Wodnas the old man likely would not. He was too crafty, too calculating to allow anything to happen by chance if he could avoid it, and if something did, then he would be very sure to exploit it to his own advantage.
‘Zerco, my friend,’ Hagan said, finishing his goblet of wine. ‘I do not think any of those things of you, but now I also know that not only are you perfectly capable, you are downright dangerous. I am glad you are on my side.’
‘All depends on this wedding then,’ Zerco said with a self-satisfied smirk.
‘What do you mean?’ Hagan said.
‘If Aetius was on the march then time is running out for the Burgundars,’ the little man said. ‘The wedding might give us the chance to find where the treasure is. Also it will bring the cavalry the Burgundars say they won’t go to war against Attila without. If they don’t join the alliance against Attila, Aetius will regard them as an enemy and march the legions here first. This new Burgundar kingdom will be annihilated. I don’t care how good their warriors are. There aren’t enough of them to fight off the whole Roman army.’
Hagan nodded, thinking back to that dark day outside Vorbetomagus.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘This marriage is crucial. So let’s just hope Brynhild turns up for it.’