THE BURGUNDAR WAR Horde, along with its new contingent of Valkyrjur cavalry, rode first west then north. They moved away from the mountains that surrounded Geneva, through foothills to the rolling plains of south-central Gaul.
By day they rode along the Via Helvetica travelling west. At night they dug a large rectangular ditch and used the earth from it to create a defensive rampart, then pitched their camp inside. It was just what a Roman legion would do when on campaign and yet again Hagan wondered if Wodnas, who had taught them to do this, had spent time in the Army of the Empire.
One difference from a Roman army was the presence of women. Burgundar wives travelled along with servants in a baggage train that followed the mounted warriors. In former times when the Burgundars went to war the whole tribe had travelled too, and the families of the warriors screamed their support for their menfolk from the edge of the battlefields. They were also there to encourage, witness and remember the deeds of the warriors. Hagan knew the young women who accompanied the war horde now were a continuation of that tradition, but like all the others it was changed, different from the past.
With a train of wagons and pack horses it meant progress was slower than if the warriors were riding alone, but it also meant they were more comfortable and better equipped.
The road passed through forests, vineyards and meadows, alongside meandering rivers and past settlements. The weather was getting ever warmer with the waxing summer and the hundreds of horses kicked up a cloud of dust that filled the air and covered the riders in a thin brown coating.
The war horde moved in a disciplined fashion. As when they went to the realm of Brynhild, the Raven Warriors went ahead, ranging through the countryside, scouting the way for the main force. In the main body of the horde the Bear Warriors rode at the front, ready to charge at any potential threat that showed its face. Behind them rode the rest of the warriors with the king and his council at the centre. Brynhild’s Valkyrjur were divided in two and rode on either side of the main column, protecting its flanks. Behind all lumbered along the train of wagons and carts carrying provisions, baggage, slaves, servants and the noblewomen who had chosen to accompany their husbands to the battlefield.
Geic’s death had left Hagan with an uneasy feeling in his heart and he felt uncomfortable being around Gunderic and Sigurd. The feeling was mutual, as they both seemed gruff and aloof. There was no sign of Brynhild either. Gunderic continued to say she was shaken by the attack and remained in a wagon at the rear but Hagan could not help feeling the king was evasive and short-tempered whenever anyone asked about his queen. Hagan’s suspicion of what had happened deepened. Gunhild mostly stayed with the women at the rear and Hagan once more felt alone with no one to talk to.
A few days into the journey Hagan ran into Gunhild by chance one evening on one of her rare journeys to the fore of the company. She was looking for Gunderic.
‘Have you seen Brynhild?’ Hagan said. ‘I haven’t seen her since we left. Do you think she is alright?’
Gunhild pursed her lips.
‘I haven’t,’ she said. ‘I was a bit worried, but two of the women tell me they have met her in the last few days. She seemed fine, though the odd thing is they both said Brynhild kept herself wrapped up in that long black hooded cloak of hers, despite the weather. She definitely is keeping herself out of the way.’
‘I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised,’ Hagan said with a shrug. ‘With what happened on her wedding night, coming on top of all the other unfortunate events that have blighted her life, she probably needs some time to herself to get over it all.’
A little more reassured, Hagan parted from Gunhild. He remained wary of what Sigurd might try and made sure he slept both with a knife under his bed roll and in a tent with others. If the big man or anyone else wanted to try something they would have to do it before witnesses.
After a week of travelling nothing had happened, and Hagan began to relax a little, at least enough to start leaving the tent in the dark at night if he needed a piss instead of lying there holding on until the morning.
One night he was relieving himself against a dry stone farm wall. The camp for the night had been made on top of an unfortunate farmer’s settlement. Hagan was looking up at the stars, a little cloud of steam from his urine rising into the chilly night air, when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye.
Hagan tensed, his flow ceasing immediately. Then he saw who was lurking a little way off.
‘Zerco?’ Hagan said, squinting to make out the little man’s shape in the shadows. ‘You’re here?’
‘I followed the war horde,’ Zerco said in a hoarse whisper. ‘And caught up with the baggage train. You aren’t travelling that fast so it was easy enough. I need to tell you something.’
‘I thought you’d be taking advantage of everyone being away from Geneva to search the place for treasure,’ Hagan said.
‘I have to warn you,’ Zerco said. ‘I was in Gunderic’s house the night of the wedding. Geic had nothing to do with it.’
Hagan looked around to see if anyone was within listening range. Seeing the nearest people awake were some warriors on watch on the rampart about fifty paces away, Hagan grasped Zerco’s sleeve and led him deeper into the shadows near the wall.
‘Tell me everything,’ Hagan said.
Speaking in a whisper, Zerco related all he had seen in Gunderic’s house that night.
When he’d concluded, Hagan sat for a moment in silence. He felt heavy with this knowledge rather than enraged.
‘So I was right,’ he said after a few moments, ‘there was something strange about that whole story. You should be careful, Zerco. If Gunderic or Sigurd find out you know this you will be a dead man.’
‘I know that,’ Zerco said. ‘That’s why I have decided to go back to Aetius. I will ride ahead and join the Romans at Aurelianum.’
‘What about the treasure?’ Hagan said.
The dwarf sighed.
‘For a long time the gold was all I thought about,’ he said. ‘Really. Night and day. What I would do with my cut. What I would buy. How I’d never have to suffer the scorn of others once I was fabulously wealthy. But I look at Gunderic and the others and see the sickness this gold brings with it. You need treachery to get it and then you must become even more treacherous to hold onto it. Do I want to live my life that way? I look at you and realise the answer is no.’
‘Me?’ Hagan said.
‘Yes,’ Zerco said. ‘You’ve had as bad a life as I have yet you never let it twist your heart.’
‘Not quite as bad a life, I’d say,’ Hagan said.
‘You see what I mean?’ Zerco said. ‘Your life has been shit. You lost your homeland, your family and people were massacred. You found out your father was not your father. You were never after the treasure when you went to Geneva, you wanted to help your people. You wanted a new home but when you got there it turned out to be a den of snakes. Through it all you carry on. You were not lost in bitterness. You still try to do right when others do you wrong.’
‘You’re right. I’m an idiot,’ Hagan said.
‘I used to pity you,’ Zerco said.
‘You used to pity me?’ Hagan rolled his eyes.
‘But now I realise you are to be admired,’ Zerco continued. ‘You have what the Romans call virtus. You are like their stoics. I was only fooling myself anyway. If I had become wealthy the smiles and praises of others would just have been masks, hiding what others really thought of me, which would be no different from what they think of me now. So I will give up on this dream of gold and return to Aetius. There is something rotten in Geneva and I’d rather be alive and poor than dead and rich.’
‘Aetius won’t be pleased if you return without the gold,’ Hagan said.
‘All the same, I will feel safer with the Magister Militum,’ Zerco said. ‘And I can at least assure him the treasure is in the Burgundars’ lands, should he want to go and find it himself someday. Now I must go. I came here so you would know the truth and that you must be very careful for your own safety. Look after yourself.’
He touched his forehead in salute then slunk off into the darkness.
Hagan watched him go, then went back to his tent and went back to his leather sleeping bag, careful not to step on any of the others snoring around him. He lay down but did not sleep the rest of the night.