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

hidden by hills and small mountains, ringed by lush valleys, and guarded by spears at the end of River Moenus. “We had two slaves in the household, and they taught us the language. I can speak the language some. We see their handiwork, occasionally. Great swords, spears, even well-bred horses. And there are crumbling hill-forts they once occupied in our lands, all over it in fact, but few live there now. I’d love a weapon they craft.”
    “You would,” she said reverently. “Teutorigos has a metal shield, and a chain mail, golden belt. And a most incredible warhammer. It’s long as your arm, and crafted by some skillful smith, ages ago. He is an old lord, but tough as a pine.”
    “Is Celt a tough warrior, though?” the blacksmith grunted. “Seems they fell to Romans so fast some didn’t even notice there was war taking place. Hesitating and plodding, their warlords squabble, and enjoy luxury overmuch.”
    Gisil ignored him. “Hulderic saved Teutorigos’s son once,’ she said. “Hulderic has great many friends, and none because he pays them for it.”
    “But not enough to keep this Bero at bay,” I stated, and the blacksmith grunted with agreement.
    “No, not enough,” he said. “He has great many enemies as well, and not all are Matticati, bandits, or your people, Chatti. He has them, partly because he refuses to pay for friends. Too honorable for his own good. Has very little real power on the hill, because he doesn’t give gifts to those who dislike Bero.”
    Gisil rolled her eyes at me. “Bellows is full of shit. Ignore him. Bero has taken over the daily management of the gau. He is Balderich’s second hand man, and while Balderich wages occasional war and deals with his chiefs, Bero makes sure everyone eats well. The trade rolls in, and that has made him prosperous and invaluable.”
    “He knows,” Bellows murmured. “He’s not blind!”
    Gisil leaned closer to me. “He has high champions bowing down to the dirt for him, and Balderich, while the leader of all the Marcomanni by the blood of Aristovistus, is still the highest man, near a king ,’ she whispered. She raised her eyebrows at the scandalous words, as kings are not easily tolerated east of Rhenus River, because all Germani loved their individual rights. Kings were a temporary, if necessary, evil during war. “Bero is near equal in power and influence to him. But Sigilind, the daughter of Balderich, is married to Maroboodus, Hulderic’s exiled son. Hulderic is therefore the guardian of the blood of Aristovistus. Gunhild, the second daughter, had not conceived a child with the southern noble. Hulderic is always worried about his grandsons, Hraban and Gernot.”
    “He doesn’t need this now,” Bellows despaired. “Let’s just hurry.”
    “What are they like?” I asked, starting to think service to Hulderic might amount to riches and fame after all. If the boys were the true heirs to Balderich’s power, then they would need warriors one day, should Bero be unwilling to bow his head. And, of course, he would be unwilling.
    She laughed. “They are stubborn as nasty pigs, wily as foxes. Hraban is quite powerfully built, with the temper to match. A leader, perhaps, in the making, and Gernot?” She shook her head so hard her braid opened. ”He has smarts, even more smart-ass, and there is something unresolvable about his nature. Hates deeply, hates easily, keeps bad company, but I see he’s not totally a lost cause. Doesn’t like his brother Hraban much. Or at all, to be honest.”
    “And Maroboodus?’ I asked her. “He is likely the next ruler of Hulderic’s lands, if not more—“
    “He is not,” she said acidly. “He is an exile in Rome, or somewhere far from here, Adalwulf. We don’t know where he causes his mischief, but its not here, and he shouldn’t come back. He disobeyed his father when he was your age, risked the whole lot of them, in fact, and he killed Maino, son of Bero.”
    “No proof,” the