by conquest. My word as your cousin is that I will always support you. If Maximian ever defeats you, he will next come to defeat me, too. We cannot let the legions battle us one by one, we must all face them, united. We must hang together or we certainly will hang separately.”
The king chewed at the end of his moustache. “I need to hear what are the auguries,” he said abruptly. “Get my seer to me.” Shortly, a small flaxen-haired woman in a scholar’s grey gown walked into the chamber. Incongruously, she was carrying a half-full wineskin.
“I am Danutaryl,” she said, inclining her head to me. She looked curiously at my jarl’s badge of office. “I was born near the trade route, the Amber Road, where that stone is carried from the northern seas to Italia,” she said. “I have seen much amber, and that specimen is a king’s ornament.”
She turned to Stelamann, almost insolently casual to her king. “You want auguries, I suppose?” He grunted, but she continued before he could respond. “I heard a raven croaking as I came here. It was on my right. This is a good omen, and last night, I dreamed of Hermes, another, very good omen. Did you, king, dream of anything?”
He shuffled as he sat. “I did,” he said. “I dreamed that I hunted a gazelle and a hare, but they were too swift. My hunt failed.”
The seer shook her head. “No failure, king,” she declared. “The gazelle is symbol of a journey. If it is weak or feeble, the way forward will be a hard one. If the gazelle is strong and swift, so will the future be easy. The hare is a mystic symbol of Luna the moon and is good fortune. These are good auguries. Do you have something significant in the near future?”
The king looked at me. “I am going to Armorica,” I said. “It will be an important journey for us both.”
“And it will be a successful mission,” the seer said firmly. She turned to Stelamann. “King, you have your answer. The gods are with you, and as Hermes is the gods’ own messenger, the emissary of transitions, I think your endeavours are well blessed.” She smiled, gestured with her wineskin and walked calmly out of the chamber. I looked at the king and we nodded to each other, in satisfaction.
That night, we feasted on wild boar in King Stelamann’s hall, whose roof timbers I noted were decorated with the pitch-covered heads of his enemies. We had a pact. Now we had to recruit more Celts, Belgae, Franks and Gauls and we could push the Romans back to their own lands. We needed the Christians, too, I thought gloomily. Lots of them.
A few days later, I sent Grimr and half our force back to the coast to retrieve our sunken, hidden ship and return to Britain. I would take the other half of our company with me on a river voyage across Gaul to Armorica. That is the land of the Veneti and Pictones, a coastal land in western and northern Gaul. The kingdom is large, and includes the southerly Aquitania, so the whole monarchy extends from the shores of the Narrow Sea right down the western coast of Gaul to the mountains that separate it from Hispania. I know its coastal regions especially well, as it had been territory scoured by the Bagaudae pirates and bandits I had once suppressed for Rome.
Now I was going there to raise an army of those same bandits to battle their Italian masters. The Fates who spin the threads that create the weft and warp of our lives must have chortled at how things had changed for me.
Before I left, I had encouraging news. Stelamann had sent out his tabellari messengers to his fellow monarchs, outlining our proposed alliance and calling for a convocation. Now a tabellarius had arrived, bringing word that another potential ally was already at the Seine river in Gaul.
A powerful Hun warlord khan called Busfeld had separated from his Ostrogoth allies with whom, in an uneasy alliance he had forced crossings of both the Volga and the Don in the eastern reaches of Germania. The other tribes were aiming
The king chewed at the end of his moustache. “I need to hear what are the auguries,” he said abruptly. “Get my seer to me.” Shortly, a small flaxen-haired woman in a scholar’s grey gown walked into the chamber. Incongruously, she was carrying a half-full wineskin.
“I am Danutaryl,” she said, inclining her head to me. She looked curiously at my jarl’s badge of office. “I was born near the trade route, the Amber Road, where that stone is carried from the northern seas to Italia,” she said. “I have seen much amber, and that specimen is a king’s ornament.”
She turned to Stelamann, almost insolently casual to her king. “You want auguries, I suppose?” He grunted, but she continued before he could respond. “I heard a raven croaking as I came here. It was on my right. This is a good omen, and last night, I dreamed of Hermes, another, very good omen. Did you, king, dream of anything?”
He shuffled as he sat. “I did,” he said. “I dreamed that I hunted a gazelle and a hare, but they were too swift. My hunt failed.”
The seer shook her head. “No failure, king,” she declared. “The gazelle is symbol of a journey. If it is weak or feeble, the way forward will be a hard one. If the gazelle is strong and swift, so will the future be easy. The hare is a mystic symbol of Luna the moon and is good fortune. These are good auguries. Do you have something significant in the near future?”
The king looked at me. “I am going to Armorica,” I said. “It will be an important journey for us both.”
“And it will be a successful mission,” the seer said firmly. She turned to Stelamann. “King, you have your answer. The gods are with you, and as Hermes is the gods’ own messenger, the emissary of transitions, I think your endeavours are well blessed.” She smiled, gestured with her wineskin and walked calmly out of the chamber. I looked at the king and we nodded to each other, in satisfaction.
That night, we feasted on wild boar in King Stelamann’s hall, whose roof timbers I noted were decorated with the pitch-covered heads of his enemies. We had a pact. Now we had to recruit more Celts, Belgae, Franks and Gauls and we could push the Romans back to their own lands. We needed the Christians, too, I thought gloomily. Lots of them.
A few days later, I sent Grimr and half our force back to the coast to retrieve our sunken, hidden ship and return to Britain. I would take the other half of our company with me on a river voyage across Gaul to Armorica. That is the land of the Veneti and Pictones, a coastal land in western and northern Gaul. The kingdom is large, and includes the southerly Aquitania, so the whole monarchy extends from the shores of the Narrow Sea right down the western coast of Gaul to the mountains that separate it from Hispania. I know its coastal regions especially well, as it had been territory scoured by the Bagaudae pirates and bandits I had once suppressed for Rome.
Now I was going there to raise an army of those same bandits to battle their Italian masters. The Fates who spin the threads that create the weft and warp of our lives must have chortled at how things had changed for me.
Before I left, I had encouraging news. Stelamann had sent out his tabellari messengers to his fellow monarchs, outlining our proposed alliance and calling for a convocation. Now a tabellarius had arrived, bringing word that another potential ally was already at the Seine river in Gaul.
A powerful Hun warlord khan called Busfeld had separated from his Ostrogoth allies with whom, in an uneasy alliance he had forced crossings of both the Volga and the Don in the eastern reaches of Germania. The other tribes were aiming
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