The Chronicles Of Hvad Ch 04

We grew harder, that winter. Leaner. We were warriors, and believed that we were already hard men. But the rough living made us even tougher.

Borna looked more wolf-like all the time. Khoren began to remind me of a starving bear. I didn't need a looking-glass to know that it was happening to me, too. I could feel it, almost - the fat burning away, leaving only sinew and cords of muscle, bone and skin.

It didn't happen immediately. None of us knew how hard the winter would be until we were well into it.

The women showed it most. Berit was already lean, but Kanni appeared to shrink. Her eyes seemed even larger as her face grew thinner. Garine lost weight, but I was more concerned about Noyemi - she had so little weight to lose in the first place. She began to look fragile, almost elfin.

None of them complained. There was no point. We all trusted in Borna, and Kawehka, and we knew they couldn't produce food out of thin air. Besides,

everyone

was suffering the same - there was no need to say what we all knew. But someone needed to explain that to Abirad.

- "Fuckin' freezin' today." he would say, virtually every morning. He would stamp his feet and flail his arms, in exaggerated motions. I couldn't tell if Abirad was trying to draw attention to himself, or if he was truly unaware of how much he was annoying the rest of us.

"What the hell is this?" he would say, as we ate something the foresters had prepared for us.

- "Toothwort." [1] said Kawehka.

- "Tastes like shit."

- "Thanks, Abirad." said Priit, who wasn't particularly enjoying his meal, either.

- "Why don't you shut up, for a change?" asked Lovro.

- "What?" said Abirad. "I'm entitled to my opinion."

- "You're also entitled to shut the fuck up." growled Khoren.

I believe that Borna wanted to let us sort it out. But Abirad was unstoppable. He never grew tired of complaining. We asked him to stop. We insulted him. Priit even begged him to stop, once.

- "Please, Abirad. I have dreams, at night, where I'm stabbing you to death in your sleep."

Nothing worked. Until the day that Abirad touched on a sensitive subject.

- "Why can't we have women?"

- "What are you on about, now?" asked Lovro.

Priit was there, too. I wondered if Abirad was choosing his moment carefully. Berit was training, with Shant, under Khoren and Borna. The foresters were off hunting, and the other women were cooking. I can't remember if Dirayr was present.

- "Borna has his woman. So does Khoren. Ljudevit has two - even if he doesn't use one of them." said Abirad.

- "Very observant." said Priit. "Now why don't you shut up?"

- "I'm just saying: what about the rest of us? Shant's too young, and Dirayr may be more into horses, but I sure could use a good tumble. The rest of you not feeling it?"

Priit just shook his head, but Lovro made the mistake of answering. "You just named every woman in camp, including Berit. And you know damned well that if you approach her, she'll slice your gonads off. So what the fuck are you on about?"

- "I'd have to be a lot hornier to want to shag Berit. But if Ljudevit's not going to use his doxy ... and that forester - he has a couple of sisters. What about them?"

I stood up at that point. "Abirad, you sack of shit," I said, "if you touch Noyemi, I'll gut you myself. And as for Kawehka's sisters -"

I never finished. The look on everyone else's faces told me that there was someone behind me. It was Borna.

- "Abirad." he said. "A word."

Then he walked away.

Abirad put his head down, and followed. A moment later, I went after them. I was Borna's Hand. It was my duty to watch his back.

They went just far enough to be out of sight, and out of earshot. Then Borna turned, and without any preliminaries, he savagely kicked Abirad right in the balls.

I winced, even as I witnessed it. My own testicles shrank and retreated, in silent sympathy. Abirad crashed to the ground, his hands between his legs. He curled up, like a little child. His lips were moving, but no sound issued forth.

Borna knelt beside him.

- "Can you hear me?" he said.

Abirad looked like he wanted to puke, but he managed to jerk his head in a nod.

"You're right, Abirad." said Borna. "You

are

entitled to your opinions."

"But the rest of us are entitled to

our

opinions. And you can't seem to get it through your head: the rest of us are of the opinion that

you complain too much

."

"Yes, it's cold. And none of us can change that. As for the food, you should be thanking the foresters every day for what they provide. When was the last time

you

contributed anything to the pot?"

"And instead of thanking Kawehka, you think that he should deliver his sisters for you to fuck. If he knew that you had said that, he might want to kill you.

I would

."

Borna stood up.

"We're not going to have this conversation again, are we?"

Abirad shook his head. He was still curled up tightly, with his hands in his crotch. Borna walked past without a word - without even acknowledging my presence. I retreated silently. I don't think that Abirad even knew that I had been there.

***

Vazrig didn't stop trying to find us, or to draw us out. He set a trap, tempting us with an apparently untended flock of sheep, conveniently close to the forest. Small parties of his warriors still came into the woods, for a time. But they were wary, and very tentative as they probed along the forest trails. We were well aware, too, that a larger body of men were following close behind, ready to surprise us if we tried another ambush.

Kawehka shot and killed one. He'd only meant to keep them on edge, looking over their shoulders. Mission accomplished.

Then the snows came, and Manahir's grandsons abandoned the little patrols. Perhaps once a week, though, our enemies would descend on the forest in force, hoping to catch us in the clearing by the blueberry patches. It must have been frustrating for them.

Then a single man entered the forest, on foot. The foresters warned us long before he got anywhere near where we were. They assured us that there was no large body of men following him. Borna took me and Khoren to go and see what this meant.

We were behind cover, on Borna's Butt, when the lone intruder came down the path. He walked tentatively, as if he were nervous in the forest - but not as though as he was afraid of who might be waiting for him.

Then I saw his helmet, and knew immediately who this was.

I turned my head to Borna, and whispered: "Hravar."

- "Fuck me." said Khoren. "So it is." He rose to his feet, and yelled "HRAVAR!" - before I could stop him.

Hravar stopped, and blinked. Then he held up a hand in greeting. He would have stepped into the partly frozen bog, but Borna stood up. "Not that way!" he shouted. "Follow the path! We'll meet you!"

As we went down the slope, I stopped Borna.

- "Wait!" I said. "Borna - you can't trust him."

- "It's Hravar."

- "I know it is. But where's his wife? And his son?" Hravar had a six year old boy.

Borna understood immediately. "We have to meet him, though."

Hravar was one of Gosdan's warriors, now in his early thirties. There were flecks of gray in his scraggly beard. He was Abirad's cousin, but they were completely unlike in character. Hravar was patient, and kind, with a good sense of humour.

He also wore the stupidest helmet in our druzhina. It was a conical metal cap, with a noseguard. Whenever a warrior took a solid blow to the head, in training, while sparring, or in actual combat, it could leave a dent in their helmet. The simple solution was to take a hammer, and to beat the metal back into its original shape.

Hravar never did this. He was proud of those nicks and dents, and treasured every one. He could tell you who had struck the blow - and where, and when. His helmet looked like a battered piece of junk, but Hravar wouldn't have parted with it for the world.

We met on the path. Borna didn't hesitate; he embraced Hravar warmly. Khoren shook his hand, and slapped him on the back. I took his hand, as well, but I was looking into his eyes as I did it.

Borna led us back on to the Butt.

- "Where are we going?" asked Khoren.

- "I want to show Hravar where we ambushed them." answered Borna.

Hravar did seemed pleased to see the spot. He recognized the natural advantages immediately, and listened attentively as Borna described what had happened.

- "Oh, you pissed them off something fierce." he said.

- "I can imagine." said Borna. "Which makes me wonder: why would they let you leave?"

Hravar looked surprised. "Eh? What d'you mean?"

- "I mean, why would you come alone? Where are your wife and your son?"

Hravar's mouth was open, and his lips seemed to flicker, as if he were going to speak, but was unable - or unwilling - to let the sound past his teeth. Then he let out a deep breath, and lowered his head.

He looked to me, then, and I knew then that I had been right. But I could see the pain in his eyes. Very, very slowly, he lowered one hand, and pulled his dagger from its sheath. He passed it to me, hilt first.

Then he deliberately reached down, and unbuckled his belt. He passed it to me.

- "What the fuck?" said Khoren.

- "They made me do it." said Hravar. "Said they'd kill her if I didn't ..."

- "What were you supposed to do, Hravar?" asked Borna.

- "Find you. Find your camp. Then lead them to it. Failing that -" Hravar's eyes had gone glassy, as if he no longer saw any of us, or anything around him. "Failing that, I was to kill you, Borna."

As a young man, Hravar had sworn an oath of loyalty to Gosdan, and Gosdan to him. It was a bond that implied strong mutual obligations. If a warrior failed in his duty, or showed cowardice, the Hospodar could expel him from his druzhina. But if a lord failed to reward his followers, or couldn't support them, and their families, then those men were also free to leave his service.

It happened, then, that men would drift from one warband to another, or that a druzhina would break up, and its members had to find a place elsewhere.

But warriors were not sent as spies, joining a band under false pretences. The oaths were too real, too binding. Killing your Lord was so far beyond the pale ... it was unthinkable.

- "Vazrig's idea?" asked Borna. Hravar nodded.

- "He's mad!" said Khoren.

- "You saw his eyes." said Borna. Then he looked to me.

I shook my head, helplessly. What could we do? "I don't know. If we show Hravar the camp, he can return and tell them where it is. Then we have two options. We can move everything, so that we're no longer there when they arrive -"

- "And then they suspect Hravar of tipping us off, and Vazrig kills him and his family." said Borna. "Besides, we can't move the camp now - ground's too hard to dig."

- "Or we set up an ambush for them, when they come." suggested Khoren.

- "No good." I said. "They'd kill Hravar for that. They'd suspect that he was in on it."

- "What if he just couldn't find the camp?" asked Borna.

- "Still no good." I said. "They'd just keep sending him. Or they wouldn't believe him."

Hravar touched my arm. "Leave it, Ljudevit. I've thought of nothing else. There

is

no solution. If I found your camp, or didn't find it ... the ending's the same. I even considered trying to stab Vazrig - but that's certain death for my family. And probably others."

- "Is there any way you could get them out? And then join us?" I asked.

- "They watch us, all the time. Ever since ... Berit and the others."

- "They watch

all

of you?"

- "No. Things have changed." explained Hravar. "Mushtal's gone back to his own steading. But he only had fifteen men of his own, so Maigon and Vazrig made up his numbers with fifteen men from our band."

- "Fifteen of ours joined Mushtal?" I couldn't believe it.

- "What choice did they have? Their families are still here. Hostages, for their good behaviour." said Hravar.

I was horrified. This was another gross violation of the warrior's code. From the looks on their faces, Borna and Khoren were equally stunned.

Hravar was able to tell us the names of the men who had been forced to go with Mushtal. Maigon had taken ten more with him, back to Manahir's steading. Vazrig had fifty of his grandfather's warrior to occupy our steading.

"Some of them brought their families from Manahir's steading. Wives, children. Half the people in our steading now are theirs."

Clever, I thought. This way, no more of our companions could escape to join Borna. Except Hravar. He was trapped in the most awful dilemma.

- "Well," said Borna, "if we're going to think this over, we might as well do it at the camp."

- "Lord -"

- "You said it yourself - it doesn't make a difference if you find the camp, or you don't."

Hravar couldn't argue with that. And I suppose that it was some small consolation to see his kinsman, Abirad, and his friends - some of whom he had thought were dead. It was a bittersweet reunion, for certain. He spoke to everyone he knew, and told them about their families, and their friends.

He even found a moment alone with me.

- "I'm sorry, Ljudevit." he said. "I liked your family."

- "Nothing for you to be sorry about, Hravar."

- "I know. I thought about killing Vazrig - may times. But that wouldn't have saved them."

Hravar made no secret of the situation he was in. Everyone tried to think of a way out. I wracked my brain, searching for a solution that didn't exist. No one else came up with anything.

- "It's so sad." said Kanni.

- "He seems like a nice man." said Noyemi.

- "Hravar? He is." I replied.

- "You have to kill Vazrig." she added.

- "Pardon?"

- "He's an evil man. You have to kill him." she said.

I looked at her closely. It seemed that I was seeing her for the first time, all over again. Noyemi was painfully thin, but her eyes were bright and alert.

- "We intend to." I said. "But - you know ... we're also trying to kill your brother."

- "I know. I have to hope that you don't, because he's my brother. But I won't cry for him when you do kill him. He's a bad man. And he's in league with truly evil men."

Kanni put her arm around Noyemi's shoulder.

"I'm alright, Kanni." said Asrava's daughter. "I just want Ljudevit to know that I understand. His father didn't deserve to be betrayed like that. My father and my brother acted shamefully. I know what they did to you. But that's nothing compared to what Manahir's grandsons have done."

"Borna's mother ... your sisters ... your family. And now, what they're doing to poor Hravar. You have to kill them. And I hope that you do."

- "Thank you." I answered. I didn't know what else to say. That was our longest conversation since the night Borna had given her to me.

I sat by the fire with Borna and Hravar. Lovro and Priit tried to make suggestions, but it wasn't anything we hadn't already considered. Abirad was directly involved, as Hravar's kinsman. His own family might be put in danger, too. Abirad didn't complain, for once - but he looked distinctly uncomfortable, and wandered off by himself.

Priit and Dirayr offered silent sympathy. Berit spoke only once:

"I could go in and bring them out."

- "No." said Borna.

- "I appreciate it. Don't think I don't." said Hravar. "But I can't have you on my conscience, too. That would be ... too much."

We stayed up late that night. We couldn't come to a decision.

And then the decision came to us.

***

Kawehka showed us one of the foresters' vantage points, from which they could observe the steading without being seen. But we wanted witnesses for what we were about to do. So we shouted, and beat our axes on our shields.

It was early - just past dawn. Only a handful of people were outside the wall, gathering kindling on the edge of the forest. More people came to the palisade, and peered through the gaps between the logs. We could see them clearly, though it wasn't always possible to identify them individually.

When more than a score had gathered, and were watching, we dragged our prisoner onto the snow just outside the forest. There were three of us - and I will not name them. It's enough that you know I was there.

A few of Vazrig's warriors came out of the gate, and around the edge of the wall. They watched us, but hesitated to approach, for fear that more of us were lying in ambush.

We forced our prisoner to his knees, with his hands bound behind his back. His mouth was gagged, so that we did not have to listen to his protests. The gore from his ruined eyes was drying on his cheeks, and had stained his moustache and beard.

His head had been shaved. This was a common enough punishment for those who commit shameful crimes. We had also roughly trimmed his beard. Then we jammed Hravar's silly dented helmet on his head.

- "This man attempted to betray his Hospodar!" I shouted. Then one of my companions - I won't say who it was - drove his sword into the back of the traitor's neck.

My second companion - who shall remain nameless - then swung an axe. It took him two blows to completely sever the head from the body.

We took the eyeless head, but left the body - along with Hravar's dented helmet.

***

We would not all have survived that winter, had it not been for Kawehka and the foresters. I was a babe in the woods, compared to them. His sister, Tsoline, was particularly invaluable to us. I don't know if she was intrigued by us, or whether Borna's struggle appealed to her sense of justice, or romance. Whatever the reason, she and her brother gave us two precious commodities: their knowledge, and their time.

Her long straw-coloured hair was tied into ratty pigtails. Her chubby cheeks were the only fat part of her; the rest of her body was all whipcord muscle and sinew. She could run like a deer, and shoot a bow better than anyone except her brother.

She claimed that she wanted to be a warrior, like Berit. Borna kept his promise, and worked hard with both Berit and Shant, teaching them to fight with spear and shield, and with a knife. He ended up teaching Tsoline as well.

But Kawehka's sister taught us archery in return. She and Berit forged a bond that benefitted both of them. It would be remiss of me, though, not to mention that Tsoline had an eye for Borna, from the very beginning. I can't be sure, but I believe her crush on him was at least part of the reason why she joined us.

I promised to tell the truth. That observation wasn't a fact, and I don't know if anyone else shared my opinion, because we never discussed it. But I was sure of it.

- "Follow them. Help them. Learn everything you can." said Borna.

He meant the foresters. So I followed them, and offered my assistance. In fact, I know that I was more of a weight, slowing them down. My only real use was as a beast of burden. But they were good-natured about it. Kawehka was often gone long before I awoke, but Tsoline would wait for me, and take me with her. Sometimes, Berit came along.

Tsoline's knowledge of the forest was extensive. I knew that we made tea from staghorn[2], which mother swore would prevent the gum rot. I could also point out the Balsam fir, whose aromatic branches we used to stuff pillows.

But Tsoline taught me the difference between white spruce and the much smaller black.

- "The white is good for musical instruments. And it feeds the deer and rabbits in winter."

"Black spruce makes instruments, too. Juniper, as well. But black spruce is too small to provide much lumber. We really prize it for the spruce beer. And you can eat the young, leafy twigs, if you boil them."

- "Better with flavouring?" I guessed. "Sugar. Honey, if you have any."

- "Yup."

She knew virtually every plant in the forest - and had eaten them all, at one time or another.