The Wolves of the North by Harry Sidebottom Read Free Book Online Page A

the will of the gods.’
    ‘No,’ Ballista said. ‘We are far from Rome. In this time of troubles the Roman gods have many pressing concerns in the eternal city, the provinces, with the legions. We are in the north. We will follow the rites of the north.’
    ‘But …’ The
haruspex
looked stunned. ‘That is barbarity.’
    ‘We are in
barbaricum
,’ Ballista said. ‘
Gudja
.’
    Nothing seemed to surprise the Gothic priest. This was no exception.
    ‘The rites of the Urugundi Goths are not far from those of my birth people, the Angles. Tell me the will of the gods,’ Ballista said.
    ‘No,’ the
haruspex
erupted, ‘you cannot get this skin-clad savage …’
    ‘I am the one holding imperial
mandata
. I will answer to the emperor and the gods.’
    ‘You endanger the whole expedition. The natural gods will turn against us. You will bring their anger down on us. The Augustus Gallienus will hear of this.’
    ‘I do not doubt it,’ Ballista said, and indicated to the Goth to carry on.
    From his sable cloak, the
gudja
produced a rolled, white cloth. The old woman who attended him spread it out on a dry place on the jetty. She scuttled away. Then the
gudja
, turning his face to the sky and raising his arms, began to call the gods in a song whose words ran together.
    The summoning of the deities of northern forest, marsh, sea and river was not quick. There were many of them; their names and epithets numerous. Most of the Roman party looked askance.Ballista thought the Gothic holy man magnificent; more than a little frightening, as he should be. The wind shifted his long hair, chiming its amulets and bones, its very movement pointing to his otherwise hierarchic stillness.
    When he felt the attention of the gods, the priest stopped singing. Keeping his eyes to the heavens, he lowered his arms and took out the rune sticks. Without a glance, he dropped the thin pieces of willow on the cloth. Then, his face still averted, he knelt and without hesitation picked up three of them. Now he bent over them, scrutinizing the markings on them.
    With an air of certainty, the
gudja
looked up at Ballista.
    ‘There is much danger. Men will die. But not today. It is in the future.’
    ‘How far?’
    ‘The runes do not say.’ The priest swept up the sticks.
    Ballista nodded. He felt confidence in the old ritual of his youth. The Goths used willow, the Angles wood from a nut tree. It made no odds.
    ‘Load the ships. We sail as soon as everything is stowed.’ Ballista turned to the slaves by the two carcasses. ‘Butcher them, cook the meat. We will eat on the boats.’
    As men bustled about, the two eunuchs approached Ballista. For once, it was Amantius, the one who had been with Castricius in Albania, who spoke.
    ‘
Kyrios
, would you order some of the soldiers to search the town? My slave is missing. And …’ the eunuch looked close to tears ‘… my brooch, the one with the sapphires and garnets I bought in Panticapaeum, is gone.’
    ‘I am sorry for your loss of them,’ Ballista said, ‘but there is no time. He may well have fled the town; more than one merchant vessel has already put out this morning. If he is hiding in the ruins, there are not enough of us to find him easily.’
    Amantius was going to say more, but his colleague Mastabates laid a hand on his arm. Led him away.
    A slave, his forearms plastered with gore, made a subtle noise. Ballista indicated for him to speak. ‘
Kyrios
, what should we do with the gods’ share?’
    Ballista looked at the organs set aside from the unsuccessful sacrifices of the
haruspex
. ‘Throw them in the river. If the gods do not want them, the fish will.’
    At Lake Maeotis, the waters of the Tanais thickened to become a huge, swampy delta. The mission was distributed haphazardly between two long Gothic ships. Maximus sat amidships in the leading vessel, with Ballista. The Gothic warriors at the oars pulled them out from the quayside and up the quiet branch of the river that