EARLY NEXT MORNING Hagan hurried through the camp as it was being dismantled, seeking out any of the Raven Warriors who might still be there.
After a search he spotted Gunfjaun and another raven warrior talking to Wodnas near his tent. Like Hagan they were red-eyed and had been up most of the night scouting the forests ahead. They were now delivering a report on what they had found.
‘I want to join your scouting forays for the journey,’ Hagan said. ‘It’s boring riding along with the rest of the warband and the women. At least there is some danger in what you do.’
Gunfjaun and the other raven warrior folded their arms. There was scorn and scepticism on their young faces.
‘We are a specialised company,’ Gunfjaun said. ‘Wodnas has taught us many crafts particular to our work that others do not know. I don’t want to find myself trying to move silently through a wood to attack an unwitting enemy with you crashing along behind me like a bison.’
‘I am an expert hunter,’ Hagan said. ‘I have been since I was a boy. I can move through a forest silent as a cat. And in the Roman Army I was a scout. I learned similar skills to you.’
He looked sideways at Wodnas.
‘If not the same skills,’ Hagan said. ‘Give me a chance. If I let you down you can just tell me to return to the main column.’
The Raven Warriors looked at Wodnas, who looked at Hagan for a long moment. Hagan felt the intensity of that one blue eye that seemed to search his very heart.
‘Let’s see how he does, lads,’ the old man said after a moment, a faint smile brushing his lips. ‘But don’t go easy on him.’
The others nodded, though still looked far from happy.
‘Meet us at the gate,’ Gunfjaun said. ‘Don’t take too long.’
Hagan ran to grab his gear and horse then rode to the gate in the rampart of the camp which was being taken down as the two Raven Warriors sat on their horses beside it. The three of them rode off, out of the camp and away from the main army.
Hagan felt relief as they left the rest of the Burgundar War Horde behind. He was now in the company of killers, but they were warriors not murderers. If Gunderic or Sigurd wanted to cause him any harm he was, with any luck, beyond the reach of anyone they might send to do it. All he had to do was impress his new colleagues so they would let him stay with them.
It did not take long. Once Hagan had displayed his knowledge, the lads became more welcoming, recognising someone who shared the same skills.
The further north they rode the more it became clear they were riding towards a war. The settlements they passed that were large enough to have walls had their gates closed and armed warriors on ramparts regarded the passing warband with wary eyes as it rode by. The closer they got to Aurelianum the busier the roads became, though all the traffic was going in the opposite direction. Great crowds were trekking down the road. There were some rich people in litters or wagons but most were ordinary people struggling along with only as many of their belongings as they could carry. Once they even saw a whole convent of nuns, walking barefoot and empty-eyed down the road. They were all the eternal victims of war: those who could not defend themselves. Many of those who passed a few words with the Burgundars told tales of horror – massacres of innocents, defeats of armies and the sacking of cities. Attila was on the rampage and it seemed no one was able to stop him.
The weeks wore on and the further and further they got from Geneva, the countryside grew ever more flat while the weather got warmer. Soon the days were spent trudging through countryside under a baking hot sun.
Among all this Hagan heard people calling the king of the Huns by a new name he had heard only once before: the Scourge of God. The world had grown wicked, perverse and corrupt and the Almighty had sent Attila to deliver His judgement and punish the sinners. So many cities had fallen already and now he was riding to take Aurelianum.
‘Why there?’ Hagan wondered as he sat around the campfire one evening with a few of the other Raven Warriors.
‘It’s nearly in the centre of Gaul,’ Gunfjaun said. ‘Aurelianum is the gateway to the west. The way the roads run, if Attila can take this city then he could cut Gaul in two. The West is already rebellious so he is gambling that, if cut off from the threat of the legions, the Bacaudae, the Armoricans and thousands in other tribes will declare themselves free of Rome and willing to pay Attila tribute. Then all he has to do is ride south and take Ravenna. Attila will rule nearly all the world.’
Hagan looked at him for a moment, then said, ‘For one so young, you are very wise.’
The lad smirked and shook his head.
‘That’s what Wodnas told us,’ he said. ‘I’m just here to kill Huns.’
They all laughed, though Hagan’s mirth was not as unrestrained. He had been thinking about the battle that was coming and how the Burgundars might be deployed. The Romans often tried to use ‘barbarians’ as shock troops, warriors who would either lead the attack or absorb the initial fury of one from the Huns while the legions watched until enough casualties had mounted on both sides for them to march in. They then finished the job against a weakened enemy with minimal casualties to themselves. It was a proven tactic. He had learned about it the hard way.
If Aetius did that with these warriors it would be a waste of good men. The lads around him were good, there was no doubt of that, but they were few in number. The special skills they had would count for nothing against thousands of mounted, charging Huns. If deployed in the right way, however, they could cause real havoc among the enemy.
Hagan made up his mind that if he got the chance to talk to Aetius again he would try to impress this on the Roman, instead of thinking of ways to kill him.
After eleven days the raven warrior scouts came in sight of Aurelianum. The countryside was mostly flat but there were occasional woods and a few rolling hills. The Raven Warriors were about a day ahead of the main war horde. When they crossed open ground that offered no cover to launch a surprise attack, they rode. When they came across nearby woods, glens, hills, or anything that might hide an ambush force, they dismounted and worked their way through it in silence until they were satisfied it was clear.
They had come upon a perfect place for an ambush – a wooded hill just beside the road – and the company had dismounted to check it out. Hagan was making his way through a thicket, spear ready, walking with careful, deliberate steps so as to make as little noise as possible, when he heard the sound of a deer bleating coming from uphill of him.
While it could have been a deer, it was also the signal the Ravens had agreed among themselves before they began searching the forest. Hagan began tracking uphill towards where the sound was coming from. The hill was not high and he made it to the top in a short time, despite moving with caution in case he was walking into a trap.
On the summit he found Gunfjaun in a little clearing. The trees opened up to give a good view of a city that must have been Aurelianum. It was a large settlement, rectangular in outline and surrounded by walls built in the Roman fashion with defensive towers at three of the four corners and defending every gate into the city. The towers had conical roofs covered in red tiles. The same tiles covered the roofs of many of the buildings visible beyond the wall. At one last corner with no tower the walls curved around the massive bulk of an amphitheatre. There were no games that day however as even from this distance the glint of sun on weapons showed the top tiers of the theatre seating was lined by warriors.
A river curled around two sides of the city. Until recently the settlement must have spilled out beyond its walls, but now the houses, shops or whatever had been built beyond the walls was just piles of smouldering rubble. Hagan reasoned they had either been destroyed by Attila’s forces or torn down by the defenders of Aurelianum to remove any cover for attackers reaching the base of the walls.
Right around the city was a system of trenches, ramparts and palisades. These were newly built as Hagan could see that the earth taken up in digging them was still a dark brown.
‘We’re too late,’ Hagan said. ‘Attila got here first.’