Multiple authors story - write one paragraph each

I don't know if this is for the frontroom or for mead hall, sorry if it's in the wrong place. I know there's the "one word story" thread in the frontroom, but I think this is a very different concept though, a more serious attempt at making a story - if you write an entire paragraph rather than a single word it's easier to get it to make more sense and keep the context etc. It's supposed to be like a mead hall story but with the extra flavor of having different authors to get a more varied language and it's also IMO fun to see if we can tie together the story in a way that makes sense. Plus I think it's a good way for people with too little time to be able to write an entire story alone to still be able to write something...

Here are the suggested rules:
- when posting a paragraph, put the number of the paragraph first. The number should be the number of the paragraph above plus one. If two post a paragraph with the same number at the same time, the first one posted will be part of the story and the other ignored. This rule is to ensure it doesn't get messed up if two post at the same time
- try to take it seriously and when writing a paragraph try to make it a plausible continuation of the previous paragraphs
- feel free to start a new chapter when you think it's appropriate
- IMPORTANT CLARIFICATION: you can contribute with more than 1 paragraph to the entire story, it's just that you aren't supposed to write two or more paragraphs in a row (the "write one paragraph each" title might have confused some...)

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CHAPTER 1

1
The snowfall was getting more intense every minute. It was now difficult to see more than a few meters ahead, and it was impossible to tell if they were still walking on the road, or if they were heading further away from the civilization and would end up lost somewhere on the unforgiveable steppes. If they got lost out there in this cold, with so few supplies left, nothing but death could be expected. As if they sensed the tension of the men, the horses let out a miserable neighing, but the sound was torn into shreds by the heavy wind.

CHAPTER 1

1
The snowfall was getting more intense every minute. It was now difficult to see more than a few meters ahead, and it was impossible to tell if they were still walking on the road, or if they were heading further away from the civilization and would end up lost somewhere on the unforgiveable steppes. If they got lost out there in this cold, with so few supplies left, nothing but death could be expected. As if they sensed the tension of the men, the horses let out a miserable neighing, but the sound was torn into shreds by the heavy wind.
2
One more time I asked myself what I was doing here. Was it a caprice of destiny? Or a cheap trick of some unfriendly god? Did he decide to throw me into this hell to gloat over my pain? Or was my odyssey part of a twisted and mysterious plan? I shook my head. I had thought about it repeatedly but I never found an answer.

3
Not much was left of the footwear by now. I could vaguely feel the remnants of it scrape my already sore, soaked feet. As I looked forward I dogmatically hoped it was only a dream, a nightmare. Soon I would wake up at home, sitting by the fire, having gone dozy in it's pleasant heat. I smiled at the thought. Would I ever have realized how wonderful that fire could be if I hadn't been here? On the other hand, it struck me, would I have needed such wonderful things if there hadn't been such pain that needed to be compensated? I was awaken from my thoughts by a distant light, that penetrated the whirling snow. It flickered once, then disappeared. I wondered if it had been a hallucination, or if it really was a sign of other human beings. I was thankful that the captains were already leading us in it's direction - my cheekbones were aching too much from the cold for me to be able to tell them about what I had seen. If it had been a real light, then we would soon all see it.

4
The winds increased once more, the snowflakes striking like razors. The breathing got heavier and the walking got slower.
The column of men and animals streching both back and ahead, all staggering forward as if some sort of automatons. All the faces sagging and the eyes near dead.
From behind a yell was followed by the sounds of thundering hoofs... "No... not again..." was the wearied thought that blanketed my mind.

Ok, why not?

5

I thought about the stupid repetition of the same movements over and over. The futility of the operation, evident more than ever in that particular moment: kill to stay alive. A ritual men have been performing through the ages and the generations without it never becoming obsolete. I knew there was no choice. In the place I occupied in the universe, this was my duty. And there was no point asking yourself why.

6
The thundering sound of hooves drew closer, I readied my weapon in preparation for what was to come. Parts of the column had already reacted by halting, forming smaller line segments facing the incoming cavalry, while others had still not heard the sounds. Luckily enough, the incoming cavalrymen turned out to be our own, which meant we hadn't been taken completely by surprise, caught in disarray. However, there were stains of blood on their shirts, the men were barely conscious, many of them in strange distorted poses, heads and chest resting on the necks of their horses, barely keeping them on the horseback. I suspected some of them must be dead, their horses having simply followed the other horses when their masters had died, and they had no longer received any orders. "They're coming! They're coming!" yelled one of the few cavalrymen who hadn't got any blood on his shirt, and still seemed alert despite the long march. He was pointing in the direction he had come from. In the distance, I heard one of the captains calling for the cavalryman. It sounded as if he was asking about the strength of the enemy, but the wind kept me from hearing the details. I carefully patted the tip of my weapon, touched it's simple, yet lethal, principle in my, by the cold almost petrified, hands. And then the thundering sound of hooves began once again, but this time it was a hundred times more powerful than last time. This time it was the enemy coming. I felt my pulse quickening, my petrified hands awakening and grasping the weapon firmer than was my intention. The ground was shaking, literally. This enemy is far beyond our capabilities I thought. It was the last thing I remember thinking before my instincts took control over me, mechanically making me react to the orders, preparing to kill to survive. And then I saw the first black silhouettes of cavalrymen.

7
Dread... Utter dread! And at the same time the coldness broguht nothing but carelessness. If the situation hadn't been so serious I would likely have wondered at it, but now was not the time.
I slung the tall kiteshield to my front, gripping the leatherstraps tightly, making sure it fit snugly. But no matter how long I would have worked on it, it was still half destroyed, the boards open to the elements from many cuts to the lining leather, the point cut off and a large cut into the upper edge where a sword had been stuck.
I grapped my spear, my trusty spear, tighter, at least it was still in one piece. It would become important once more.
I ran towards the raggard line of soldiers forming up to recieve the horsemen. I just hoped I would reach them before the first horsmen flowed around them, wouldn't do good to be caught alone...

8

"Someone bring a light!" crossed my head as I felt the shoulder of a comrade in the snow. I couldn't see. Instinctively I turned in the same direction as everyone else. Still no charge. We waited. I saw an officer's helmet very close, the horses' hair at the top blowing into my face. Then I heard a whipping sound, blood splattered my face and the hair was gone. "Arrows!" I shouted I knelt behind the shield.

9

For so long we had put up with the bitter cold, wanting nothing more than heat. Some of the men got what they desired in that initial volley as warm blood spread across their freezing bodies. I doubt they saw the irony, at the time neither did I. Another volley struck down on our pathetic line of spears before the clapping of hooves could be heard again. The enemy was attempting a direct cavalry charge on our position. Under normal conditions this would seem tactically unsound, but we were desperate men and if we even managed to hold until the first sight of the mounted warriors we all would be impressed with our own bravery. Already, the men on the rear and flank were turning tail and running, it was too bad I hadn’t been fortunate enough to be back there; I was caught in the middle and wouldn’t be able to retreat, at least not until the rest of our unit fell apart and abandoned the army.

Ok, last one for today.

10

Another volley reached us before the horses emerged out of the snowstorm just a few feet away, crashing into the disorganised first line, killing and retreating as soon as the formation closed on them. Then another volley, and a charge from a different direction. The formation melted away so quickly, I knew we had at most one or two charges left. I was right. The next charge was the end of us. The men just ran. Dissapeared. Melted into the snowstorm. I ran too, dropping the shield and the spear. Then I felt a rope tighten around my torso and pulling me back violently. The air was was missing. I hit the ground. Then I fell unconscious.



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I think this is a good place to start chapter 2...

Chapter two

Coldness, there was coldness as i had never know before. After all this time in the steps I was still not used to the bitter cold that bit at my bones long night after night. But my suffering had all been for no use. I had failed, I was ashamed. I had left what few brave comrades that had still stood to face the charge. Betraying there trust i had ran, with little thought of the enemy, little thought of my allies. All there was at that moment was my own selfish pride. My own desire to survive. I deserved to die, and i know that i would if i ever returned.

Chapter Two

Paragraph two.

I had let my mind wander down into the depths of despair, all around was blackness. And Death. Behind came the screams and shouts of battle, those sound were so familiar yet still so blood curdling. I knew that my comrades, the brave ones must all be dead and that I must soon join them. Yet I could not will my legs to stop and so I just kept on running. Ahead I saw them, another pack of pikemen, but this time they were more and had been ordered into a square. I knew that I must reach them. Behind came the sound of hooves. The square seemed so far away.

13
The image of what had happened now started to become more clear. I had only been unconscious for a short period of time. The line that had been formed to take on the enemy charge had only been a fraction of our army. The formation had been destroyed, and I was lucky to be alive - having not been trampled by the hooves of the enemy cavalry. I tried to make my way through the snow towards the others, but the snow was deeper here, and my progress was slow. And then I saw the light again. This time there were no doubts as to what it came from. From a distance, I saw the light draw closer to the formation ahead, and another row of horsemen appeared. They approached so rapidly that the men had no chance of preparing themselves for the charge. I heard the sounds of broken lances and metal towards metal, but it was soon drowned in the sounds of pain of dying infantrymen. Then the line of cavalry that had swept away my own formation crashed into the pinned formation from the other direction. Turning away from the battle, I realized that I had failed them all. Had I reported about the light, the men would have been able to prepare themselves. Had I not fled from the first line they might have been able to hold the first charge too. And so I realized I wouldn't be able to return home until my honor had been restored. Trying to sneak away from the enemy through the snow storm - it was a lot easier than I thought as denser and denser fog drifted in from the west - I prepared myself for this oddyssey. I dropped the remnants of my shield but grasped the sword more firmly. I would not return home until my honor had been restored.

14
For a few seconds I stood there in the snow, daring any rider to come at me. I yelled at them, but somehow my voice was restrained, I couldn't get a sound across my lips. I tried several times but my voice failed me completely. Naturally my left hand wandered up to my throat. It was sore, very sore. Apparently the rope that had caught me had slipped up to my throat and constricted there after I had fallen unconcious. It was wierd, I had been caught but was still free, someone had apparently set me free while I was lying there knocked out.
The battle was winding down, and given my exposed position, I began to move towards the edge of a forest a hundred paces away. Hopefully, in there, I would be able to ambush a rider or two before I got struck down. Honour would then return to me, if only marginally.

15


As i entered the forest, the sounds of the battle had stopped. I knew that the enemy raiders would soon spot my trail in the snow, but in the forest tracking me would be lot harder, becouse this was my natural enviroment. As i walked in the snow covered forest,the only sound was the sound of my feet in the snow.
Suddenly when i passed a thick bush of little trees,there it was. A horse looking straight to me on its big eyes. While the weather was frozen i saw that its sides were covered in swet.

16
I inspected the clasps and saddle and found that it must be the horse of a fallen enemy. I smiled when I realized how I could perhaps later use that to my advantage. But the first thing to do now was to get away from this mess. Find something to eat. While I needed the horse to transport my tired body to the nearest village, I realized I had to consider slaughtering it to eat it if I ended up lost too far out on the endless fields. With these thoughts going on in the back of my head, I felt guilt when I smiled at the horse, trying to look friendly in order not to scare it away when I approached it.

17

I tried to get on the horse, but in fact I was too weak. My mind was determined to stand but my body was tired. I passed out once more. Once I woke up, a new day had broken. I looked around, but all I could see were a couple of other soldiers, lost and desperate creatures like me. There was no strength, no order, no hope and no pride. We were no army anymore. Then there was the sound of horses again. Despite my resolutions my first thought was to get away, to hide, and to crawl into the snow. Then I realized that it wasn’t the sound of a cavalry charge. I turned and in the rising sun I saw a couple of riders. They stopped some hundred yards in front of me, a small officer in front of them. Although I could not see the faces I knew the outline. It was our commander.
At the moment the defeated creatures raised, tried to adopt attitude and build a formation. I saw comrades from different units, most of them had lost their weapons and equipment, the uniforms were wrecked and many were wounded. At the same time, however, I realized that we were still the army, the great army. Maybe we were defeated, maybe we did not look like an army any more, but we were still there and we would not give up. Maybe we would all die, but we would not loose our pride. I tried to scream and I was highly surprised to here me cry: “Hail our general! Hail our glorious army!” The others joined and we were jubilating, too, just as if we had won a battle. I saw the general smile. Then he turned and rode away. However, I will never forget that smile. I knew that smile was worth all the pain we had had to stand. That smile would make us fight again.

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You are fast, my friends!

It's coming together nicely ~:)
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18
So there we were, only some fifty men who had survived the slaughter. We had apparently gotten far away enough from the actual battle to be able to evade being captured by the enemy. In yesterday's weather it had been difficult to spot us. Now however, we would be in danger if we stayed in the open. The heavy wind would no longer erase our footprints. I turned towards our general.
"We are lucky to still be alive. But what are we going to do now?"
"We shall go south. We slaugthered two injured horses during the night, but our supplies still won't be enough for more than a few days."
"South?" I heard myself asking with contempt. Then I immediately regretted it. Going south was the only sensible thing to do, or we too would die like our friends. It was my guilt that had made me ask the question. But I realized I was the only one who knew how I had dishonored myself in that battle, how I had failed my friends. Then I realized that perhaps also the men around me now were as much cowards as me, the few who had fled early enough to evade capture or death. One of the men on my side gave me some horse meat which I attacked greedily with my swollen, soary mouth while we began the march south.

19

We reached a frozen river and the general ordered to stop. We could rest for some minutes but were not allowed to light a fire. Before we started again the general said to us: "Soldiers, hard times are behind us and hard times ahead. But I promise you that in the end our glorious army will win again. I aready sent the rest of our cavalry south. They warn our southern amry. Right now they may be already on the way north. So kepp on holding on. Just one or two days and we will be back in the arms of our main army."
Then he took me aside and said: "I have a special task for you. You seem to be the bravest and I rely on you. You will have to leave us. Go north, the Tartars will surely find you. Tell them that you are a renegade. Tell them that our army is completly defeated. That the southern army won't dare to move north. That the path to the province capitol is open. Tell them about the treasure lying ther. Make them move to Aquincum. There we will take revenge!"
Then he turned away. I had to see my commrades march on the ice of the frozen river, trying to hide their traces. I waited until they disapeared - until I was complety alone!

20

Not until they had gone did I realize they hadn't given me any food supplies. The only thing I had now was my sword. My sword and my mission. Was it a deliberate measure to be sure of my loyalty? To be sure that I did what I was told and not turned south again at the first chance I was given? I shuddered and felt that I was sweating. No, I was the only one who knew what I had done in that battle. The one question I should concentrate on now was how I would arrange my meeting with the tatars in a way that wouldn't arise their suspicion? Should I seek them actively, or should I go to the place that they'd most likely be heading for next, and wait for them to come to me? I didn't want to look too eager, or they would not trust my advice. And I didn't want to look like I was taken by surprise and captured by them - then they'd take my words for the desperate attempts of a captive to save his friends. No, something in between was necessary.

21

Chapter 3: Howling with the wolves

It started to snow and soon the footprint of my commrades was gone. I looked around. Along the river there was a band of wood, the rest was empty plane. And snow, snow everywhere.

I was alone; in the middle of this endless solitude. No move, not even a sound. I started to run; as fast as possible. I did not care about the direction. Endlessness has no directions. I kept on running through the snow. The snow was deep. It reached my hip, when I tried to push through. I run - until I finally fell down on my knees. I turned around and saw the river. I had only managed to run some hundred yards.

Then I heard a sound. First I did not realize it was there. However, it repeated and when I realized it my blood began to freeze. Wolves! I had thought how to find the Tartars and what to do then. I had even thought about running away, trying to hide from then. Now I realized that I was lost if I could not find them. Lost; and nobody would ever know what happaned to me. Nobody would ever care.

22

I forced my frozen feets to continue moving through the snow.The howling continued,but it didnt come closer.It struck me, the wolwes didnt have to run for their pray tonight. They were feasting on the carcasses of my friends and countrymen.
I walked for hours in the frozen wind towards a goal that was uncertain for me.Why didnt my friends give me a horse? A single man on frozen steppe. My chances of surviving this mission were starting to feel less then possible.

23

Then I saw them. They came out of the copse. They sat on small horses, therfore I thought they might not be wolves. However, they had no similarity to men, too. They looked like a composition of beasts and demans.

They did not attack; they did not even come straight to me. They came slowly, scenting, leery and yet curious. I was so scared that I could not move. They came closer, so close that I could smell the disgusting odor of these spawns of darkness.

From the corner of my eye I saw one of the creatures raise a club. Then it was dark.

24

" Good morning stranger". I was not anymore in the frozen steppe,but in a warm tent, but clearly as a prisoner not a guest. In front of me was a big creature who sayed those words, that woke me up. This man was bigger then the ones who captured me. He weared the same clothes as the others but his stature showed him to be a man of high position. His fore head was bold but in the back of his head he had a long hair that reached his shoulders his eyes were more yellow then brown.In fact he reminded like a big cat moving around me soft and smiling at me while his eyes told there was no warm feelings behind his smile.

"My men found you at the steppe, walking around. Where is your bow and horse? Why are you walking these plains with a sword? You cant hunt anything with sword. Or have you come here to fight us and die like the other fools that have tryed that before you? Speak man, becouse i have no warm feelings for my enemies. I rather burn them and give their ashes to the God of Wind."

25

I stared at the creature, unable to understand his words or to answer him. Then another face came into reach: "You better answer, young friend, or you will not have no second chance."

I knew the face, that was smiling at me. It was unlike the face of the beast. It looked human. However, the person was probably worse than the tartars. It was Claudius, the traitor.

26
I knew Claudius was aware of the fact that I wasn't a renegade. Claudius had seen my loyalty proven on various earlier occasions, before he had changed sides. I felt panic striking me. I needed to get rid of Claudius in some way, otherwise there would be no chance convincing the tatars. Then I remembered I hadn't shaven in a week, and that my face must still be dirty. Maybe he wouldn't realize who I was, at least not immediately. When I replied I tried to distort my voice.

27

Instead of talking latin to these men.I decided to talk my own Northern dialect.I told them who i was that i fought with the Romans against them, but lied that i had no love for the Romans.
The big creature stared me right in to my eyes with an expression that i couldnt figure out.At the same time he looked intrested but also savage, like he was thinking wheather or not to eat me.After i finished he spoke few words i could not understand:
" This man doesnt speak the language of the Romans, i think he is from the people of the forest. Bring in slave Theodavacar. I think he understands what this man is trying to say to us".

28
This gave me some more time to think through what to say. First I needed them to trust me to be a traitor. In order for that to work I must tell them something that they could verify was true. Something that didn't hurt too many of my own, but at least seemed important enough to show I was ready to let down my own. Not until then would I be able to convince them that Aquincum was the best place to strike next. I didn't have time to think any further before I heard the footsteps. Theodavacar, whoever he might be, was coming.

29

Claudius, however, said: "He is not worth the trouble!"
He took a torch and held it in front of my face: "And by the way, he knows Latin as much as I do, aren't you, Herulius?"
A wave of anger went through my veins. Yes, he recognized me. He, the traitor, would make me die too. Maybe I had been a coward, who left his comrades in battle. He, however, was a betrayer, he was the one to blame for their lives.

"You are right, Claudius!"
"So, my friend Herulius, why did you stand all alone in the wilderness? Why did you leave the glorious army?"
"I was dispersed."
"Dispersed? Didn't your general take care of you? Maybe he is dispersed too? Maybe he is even dead?"
"Dead? He is alive! He will return to tear out your lying heart!"
"Then why does he run away. By the way, I do not believe a word you're saying. There are no Roman troops near or far."
"There are! They wait for you! They will defeat you and your Barbarian friends."
The Tartarian chief gave me a slap in the mouth.
Claudius: "Please, Balimir, let him talk. So, you runaway bigmouth, were can we find that glorious Roman army, that will defeat us?"
I wiped the blood from my cheek and caught: "Aquincum, go to Aquincum and they will kill you!"
Balimir turned to his Roman ally: "Claudius, this may cause trouble! Didn't you pormise that they are finished."
Claudius: "Do not worry noble chief! This one is a liar! I know the Roman way and he only wants to mislead us. I tell you, Herulius, we will go to Aquincum and you will accompany us! If we will not meet an Roman army there, you will be the first who is dying!"

30

After i was regogniced. Claudius and Balimir continued talking about their plans, but i didnt here much about those becouse i was swiftly dragged outside by some Tartars after a brief command from their master.
After few meters i stumbled and fell down on the ground. The Tartars picked me up and the older of them who resembled more of a wildboar then man sayd to me on very bad latin: "Dont worry its not your time yet to go to meet your Gods. You are now a slave and will live as long as your master sees fit for you, some of your friends will not be so lucky. Tonight we will give them to our Gods."

31

A slave! The embarresment of such a label. I was ashamed to say the least. Even more so when the brute cast me to the floor again as he pushed me towards a fur-covered tent, surrounded by several guards. He kicked me inside and I was powerless to resist, too tired from the endless walking and in desperate need of food. I was greeted, inside, by other such faces. Fellow soldiers who had been captured, or sent by the general to give falsified information. Slaves to a rabble of barbarians.

32

Odin, please assist me in misery!

The next night was the most terrible in my life. I will never forget. Even now, after a long time, I find sometimes awake by my own cries. From time to time some of these beastlike creatures came into the tent and picked one of my comrades. They luged him outside and soon afterwards I could hear how he was slaughtered. I'd liked to say that my comrades died like men, but actually they did not. They were crying for help, for mercy or for their mother. Some just cried because of pain. Their death was slow and painful. It lasted for hours and many lost their minds before they lost their lifes. One comrade after the other was picked and in the end I was the only one left. I expected to be the next. However, when the death cries of the last one had died nothing happened. I was alone until the next morning.

33

As the cryes of my friends and brothers on arms silenced, i fell on somekind of hybernation. Suddenly strong arms crabbed me and i was pulled on the raw open air the sun shined straight to my eyes as i was dragged through the snow.
When the Tartars finally drop me to the ground i understand i was at the place where my brothers had been butchered.
The open field was coloured red by the now frozen blood.Human remains were scattered all around the field hands, legs heads and innerds of men. Some of the men where impaled and their now frozen faces where still showing the terrible agony before death had given them peace.
The whole enemy force was mounted or stood on around the butchering site.Armed and fully repaired to continue their hidious plans.
The enemy chief Balimir stood in center of the remains and talked to his men on loud clear voice.

"Sons of Steppe. Look carefully and see what happends to the enemies of the great Balimir! This army has been slain with little effort from our brave warriors.Soon we will go south and take the land of these weaklings.Soon our horses eat the grass of the gardens of these weak Romans."

Then Balimir turned around to face one of those poor men that had been impaled and to my terror i saw that the man was still alive.It was one of the Roman Centurions from our army.Balimir lowered his voice and talked to the man with his rusty form of Latins.

" And after our horses have taken their share of your pretty gardens. We will warm the beds of your women and your children will call us their father and they will learn the ways of true warriors".

With his last forces i saw the Centurion trying to spit on the face of the Tartar chief.But all that came out was blood.Balimir just smiled to the poor man and swept some blood from his face and tasted it. Then he turned around and next second his sword severed the head off from the brave Centurion, giving him the luxury of death.

34

He turned to me, the centurions blood splattered across his face like the snow had splattered across mine in my people's retreat. He took a few steps forward with his sword at the ready. But first he was to taunt me, as he had to all those who died before me.

"You cowardly Roman dog," he said in atrocious Latin. Then he came closer, his mouth near my ear. "I will bed your wife with your children watching."

In pure anger and with the last of my hope dwindling I thrust with my head at him striking him in the face. His blood and my own drenched my features but I ignored that as i broke free from the guard who looked at me dumbstruck. The laughing barbarians had stopped laughing, as the crowd stops laughing in a colusseum when one of the beasts breaks free to the slaughter.

I dashed for a small forest nearby, still acting purely by instinct. I was surprised that I was still alive. What seemed even more surprising, was the fact that the enemy hadn't reacted until I had gotten several yards away from them. Then I heard a whistling sound through the air, and I instinctively bent down, seeing a crow-feathered arrow land in the snow ahead of me. Then came another one which, uncommon for these creatures, luckily happened to be less well aimed. Then I reached the first trees, trying to zig-zag so that the trees would cover me better, and make it more difficult for them to hit me. I heard hooves behind me, they had apparently started to come after me, when their arrows unexpectedly hadn't hit me. As I tried to look over my shoulder to see how far away they were, the ground disappeared under my feet. I flew through the air for a surprisingly long time, before I hit the ground again, gliding down a steep incline, tearing up small plants and earth as I tried to slow down the fall towards the ice below, but I realized I wouldn't be able to stop, I would crash through the ice and end up in the cold water. I closed my eyes.

Chapter 2 (or 3? i am not sure):

The water was cold. And that was a major understatement. It felt like flames tearing at my skin, dragging me down until I could hardly move in it's icy grip. My lungs felt like they would collapse on themselves but i stayed under water so my recent captors would, hopefully, not see me. I felt the current tug at me and a lump of ice struck my chest as I flew with the river, or stream, but I stayed under. It was worse that what I imagined my comrades had gone through. Until I couldn't take the pain any longer.

37

Would all end in here, in this freezing river? I could just stop kicking and soon all would be over. No more cold, hunger and the continuous fighting. Then as my conciousness started getting dimmer and dimmer. I saw a picture in my eyes of my wife and children looking at me smiling. No! I am tougher then this this river or these bloody Tartars cant stop me. So i continued kicking with my frozen feets and inch by inch, meter by meter.I started getting closer to the river bank.

38
I had to reach the forrest again. All around I could hear the sound of horses and the howling of the tartars. Balimir had sent all of his men to chase me. Several thousands steppe horesemen chasing one exhausted Germanian. I felt like a little rabbit chases by a pack of wolves. I tried to hide in a bush and listened to the sound around me. They were everywhere. It was only a question of time. Then I heard dogs. Oh Odin! Dogs! This was the end. The sound of the men and dogs came closer and closer. I even forgot to shiver.
Then I heard another sound. The familiar sound of trums. At first I did not realize what that ment. Drums? I heard them on my right and on my left, coming closer. Then I hear the sound of trompets. The Barbarians howled like wolves. Then I heard drums in front of me and in my back. Drums and trompets from all side. The glorious undefeatable Roman legions had arrived. While the Barbarians were busy chasing me they were surrounded by the Roman army. And now they had to fight in the woods. Volleys of arrows banged into the rows of the Barbarians. They realized that they were cut off and acted confused. Disorder everywhere. Another volley. Then marching feed. The legionaires pushed the Barbarians into the thickest wood.

39

I ran for the vague lines in front of me. The barbarians still pursued, but they were shocked by the ambushing Roman army. I glanced over my shoulder to the right and saw the encircling legionaires lock their shield to keep the Tartars in as auxillia archers filled the woods with arrows. Even though many of the deadly missiles struck trees and branches, enough found their way to strike the horsemen and stop them reaching their quarry, me. I was closer now, to the friendly lines, but one horseman broke from the group and his horse frothed at the mouth as it hurtled towards me. It was Balimir. He had a bloodied face, and an anger to match.

40
I realized I wouldn't make it to the line in time. Desperately I looked around me for something to use as a weapon. My eyes fell on a small tree that had been broken by the storm. Just as the barbarian closed in on me, I jumped over the broken trunk, and lifted it upwards and fast as I could, before the legs of the advancing horse, then jumped aside in order not to get struck. I felt a pain in my side and the skin just above my hip soaked in a thick liquid, but I got up again, running desperately for the line. Ahead of me I saw a dozen spear-armed infantrymen coming forward to meet me and help me the last way. Then I realized I hadn't eaten anything in three days. I started laughing heavily, and then passed out. When I woke up, I was safely behind the line, my wound being treated, and I was given something to eat and drink. The barbarians hadn't reached the line yet. I got to my feet, ignoring the loud protests from the greek physicians, and reached for one of their swords, running forward towards the line. This time I wouldn't abandon it.

41

What can I say about the battle? The Huns were pressed into a small part of the forest. Roman legionairs had enclosed them and our archers fired one volley after the other. Now they were using arrows with fire. The horses of the Barbarians acted like mad. They did not obbey anymore and ran into the Roman spears. Balimir was already dead. An arraw has penetrates his left eyey and ended his reprobate life.

When I was running to our troops, I saw a man leaving the battle field. He wore the uniform of Germanian auxiliars. I called him in my mother tongue to ask how the battle was going. He turned around and looked at me. It was Claudius, the cursed traitor!

42

At first the traitor looked at me quizically, because of the blood ans sweat covering my face, but then he realised and his face turned into a worried grimace. He turned the other way and casually jogged away from me, trying not to attract attention, but I charged him screaming in rage for the comrades he had helped torture. In the end he had to stop and, drawing his gladius, we were locked in combat. My speed and experiance gave me the advantage but the lack of energy put us on level terms. This was going to be a hard fight.

43

And it was a hard fight, indeed. My anger gave me power. I attacked and the traitor had to retreat. However, my power decreased with every second. I knew I had to end this war soon or I would loose. I raised my sword to the decisive strike. I aimed for his head, but I missed it. My own kick drove me forward and made me make a false step. The traitor hit me at the shoulder. I fell on the ground and the traitor raised the sword for the final strike.

Once more I faced death, once more my guarding spirits saved me. Some legionaires had followed our fight and were now coming closer. Claudius realized that he was in danger. He turned. Unfortunatelly, he could catch a horse, mount and disappear.

I passed out. The last thing I thought was: "We will meet again!"

Chapter 4

44
One month has now passed since the battle in that forest. For several weeks I have been unable to stand up due to my wounds and the exhaustion from the week of starvation. The doctors told me it was lucky I hadn't eaten more, because Balimir's blade had penetrated deep into my side and had I eaten, the wound would have turned into a mess that not even a man with the favor of the Gods would have been able to survive. I have dreamt horrible dreams during these weeks. I have dreamt of endless steppes, howling wolves, and horrible two-headed creatures looking even more diabolic than the barbarians that had slewn my comrades so ruthlessly. I have also dreamt of vengeance, and restoration of my honor. I don't yet know if it was the tree trunk lifted by my hands that had killed Balimir, or if it was my sword that slewn the three barbarians that rode towards my part of the line in the forest. All I knew for sure was that I had kept silent about that light that I had spotted on the steppe in that first battle. That light haunted me in my fever nightmares. After dreaming about it for the third time in a row, I wondered if it was perhaps more than a light. Perhaps a sign from the Gods? In any case, I was finally able to move again. I knew only little about the whereabouts of the roman armies, but they were preparing for a larger battle against the huns, a victory that unlike the small skirmish in the forest would completely and utterly deprive the huns of their will to plunder roman lands.

45

We are making plans, but destiny rules!
While we were preparing the desicive battle, the Tartars disappeared all at once. Maybe the death of their chief was too much - this time! The war was over.

Our general returned to Rome to recruit more men and to prepare another campaign. I went to Rome, too, because he made me the commander of his new Germian Guard. What an honor, what a reward. Some weeks ago I had been slave of Barbarians, now I was the commander of an elite formation. So I saw this town for the first time in my life! ROME! The centre of the world. Home of Gods and Cesars. I walked through the city and could not belive my eyes. Greatness and luxory, dirt and vice.

However, even here I could not forget the cries of my tortured commrades. And I could not forget the face of - Claudius.

46

It was during one of these days in Rome that I received the mission I had been waiting for. I had known for a long time that a mission was on the way, else I wouldn't have been kept in Rome for so long, or been promoted with so much ceremonies. When I finally met the commander Tiberius the instructions were handed out quickly and formally. The huns were coming back, they had already caused much harm in Belgica, and now they were heading for cities just north of the Alps. And this time it was the main hunnic force, led by Attila himself. Our task was to garrison the city of Aureliani while all auxiliaries and regulars that could be found were assembled to the south and west of the city, ready to come and relieve the garrison in three weeks. It was the 28th of May today. We were to march from Rome before dawn.

47

When we entered Aureliani I was in front of my Germanian Guard; 500 men on white horses, with the uniform of the guard, the lances, swords and axes, all with long red or blond hair and beards. We were very impressive. The inhabitants cheered when we marched through the town.

I went to the palast of the governor. Well, compared with the palasts I knew from Rome it looked like a stable for pigs. At least it was one of the few buildings made of stone.

I met the governor. He was nice, but very nervous. He might have been a good administrator, but he surely was no warrior. He urged me to take the commandership of the garrison.

Then we inspected the troops. It was depressing. Years of garrison duty had ruined these units. Their equipment was in a bad state, their discipline and their moral was extremly low. Not a single one passed the inspection without blame. In the Steppe, even when we had been beaten by the tartars we had had some pride. The men that I met here had no pride at all.

The governor told me that desertation was an issue. He had not dared to tell the men that Attila was 'ante portas'.

The fortification were in a bad state, too. The wall were made of stone. Years of peace have led to disrepair. In this state they would not even stop an attack from cavalry.

48

I sighed. What could we improve in the coming few days, before Attila appeared? Reinforcing some key parts of the wall with wood, perhaps. Repairing a few of the wall-mounted ballistae. But the by far worst problem was that there were too many easy approaches to the city. Too long section of wall to defend. By noon I went outside the walls to scout the surroundings alone, while the rest of the garrison stayed inside, temporarily under the command of the governor.

To the north, there was a long grass-covered field, ideal ground for a fast attack. To the east, the ground was hilly, and also covered in grass. Also that a good approach for attackers, maybe even better, at least for infantry, as it allowed them to stay in cover while approaching the walls. To the south, there was a steep slope downwards very close to the wall. The enemy would not attack there, because of the danger of ladders being tipped over falling a very long distance. Finally, to the west, there was a muddy swamp area. The enemy would not attack from there either. Thus we could concentrate the defenders to the northern and eastern walls, but that was still a too long distance to cover.

There was no time for rearranging the ground too heavily. A few pits could be dug out, maybe some small rocks and broken glass thrown out over the northern field. But we wouldn't be able to change the eastern approach. Maybe we could use that to our advantage instead? If the eastern approach was the best approach, the enemy would try to attack from there, and do so in the morning, putting the sun in the eyes of the defenders. But the enemy did not know a relief force was on the way. While this would make our struggle to defend the city hopeless, it would, if the relief force arrived in time, in the end enable us to surround and destroy a large portion of the hunnic army before it could retreat to safety and regroup. But the garrison inside the city would not like the idea of that plan, so it had to remain a secret until the last minute. But how could I order the garrison to help me chop up the ground at the northern approach without making them realize what was about to come, making them want to desert? I realized that I had to choose between better defenses and a smaller garrison, or worse defenses and a larger garrison. It was not difficult for me to make up my mind - the germanian guard alone with good defenses would do better than the full garrison without proper defenses. I would tell the garrison the truth, order them to help me prepare defenses along the northern approach, then give those who didn't dare defend the city permission to leave, but only if they helped us prepare the defenses. I would treathen that any regiment who tried to escape before that, would see their regiment decimated, but I doubted I would be able to carry out such an order - but the troops didn't know.

49
Latest news brought by pigeons told me that we had two days left for preparations. Not much, but I was bent on using the time.

The next hours were filled with activities. I sent a group of my guard to the next river. Their mission was to demolish all bridges and ferries. That would not stop the Tartars, but we would gain time.

The garrison and the citizens in the town had to work all night long, barricading the gaps in the walls as well as the streets inside the town.

In the morning I called the garrison and the people to the market place. I told them my plans for the next two days. When I ordered them to start working, no one mooved. Then one officer of the garrison stepped in front and said: We will not work. We will not stay here any longer. Your plans are foolish. You will never be able to stop the devils. We will leave right now. All we want is enough supply.

He turned to the warehouse. I gave a wink to my guard. They thwarted him with their swords in their hands. The garrison soldiers took their weapons, too. For a moment it looked as if the defenders of the town would slaughter themselves.

Then a cavalier entered the market place. It was one of those I had ordered to destroy the bridges. Everybody looked at him. I could see the exhaustion and desperation in his face. Before he opened his mouth I knew the news he brought us. I had seen the arrow stuck in his side. Again, the Huns were much faster than expected.

50
I looked at the men in front of me. Nobody moved. The men who had previously tried to find a horse and a weapon and flee were as petrified as the statues around the market place.
"Here you see the reason why we are to fight today!" I yelled, but my voice felt weak, and barely reached more than the first five rows of men. "The tatars have come to our lands to kill not only men, but also our women and children!" Still hardened faces in front of me, and my voice way too weak to make an impression on these men. "There is no retreat!" I continued. "There's no retreat, and no mercy! We now have but one option - to fight, or to die. We can choose to fight like cowards, and die here for no purpose! Or we can fight honorably, and in our death take most of the tatars with us, so that the remaining forces become too weak to be able to hurt our countrymen any more! Another roman army is marching towards this city as we speak. If we're lucky, they'll arrive in time. If we're unlucky, we'll be dead before they get to our aid. In any case, it's our duty to fight hard. If we fight hard, we will die with honor, or survive. If we fight like cowards, we will die as cowards no matter what happenes." Finally my voice reached it's full potential, roaring over the plaza, echoing against the stone buildings, statues and rows of white marble columns. I had been swallowed by my attempt to make a proper speech, and did not know if my words had had an affect, until I now went silent, and swept my eyes across the audience. They were silent, their faces empty. But it was not dissent that had formed their faces, it was their deep concentration, their successful attempts at getting rid of their fears. A man who realizes fear won't save him but kill him does not panic, I thought. It was the taks of the general to explain that to his soldier. And I had succeeded.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sounds of drums and trumpets, followed by a thundering sound on the field to the north of the city. The huns were here. The siege was about to begin.

51
We ran to occupy the walls. The Huns gathered at the northern side. First they were just few, but new hordes arrived constantly. This went on for the whole day. When the night began to fall the Huns heaped wood they had brought along and set it on fire. The whole northern side was bright. Then Hun cavalry galloped to our walls. Only small groups, though, they lavished us with arrows. Our defenders took cover. For hours and hours the Huns received reenforcements and made their attacks. We had no casualties. I knew that this was just the foreplay. Maybe the Huns wanted to scare us or wanted to keep us awake.

Around midnight I decided to work a curcuit. I wanted to inspect the other sections and talk with the guard. When I reached the southern gate I saw that it was open and that horsemen were entering the city. At first I thought that this was our reenforcement. Second view told me that the cavalry was tartarian. A small but endless stream of Huns entered our city and was soaked up in the streets.

I wanted to shout and alarm the guard. However, there was no one. The walls were deserted.There was no one to stop the Huns. The town was lost.

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Hey, is this a two men story now?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Franconicus

51
Hey, is this a two men story now?

---

Seems so :no:

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Chapter 5

52
I quickly turned around to run for the plaza, where we had our reserve. Halfway there, I heard the tatarian cavalry closing up on me and dashed for cover inside one of the houses. The cavalrymen passed, while the main force was still gathering just inside the walls, preparing an attack on the men to the north and in the plaza.
When I got out I spotted another german soldier in the otherwise empty street, and I opened my mouth to call for his attention. The words stopped in my mouth. It wasn't one of us, it was Claudius. I grabbed my axe and approached the traitor. I calculated that the street would remain empty for a minute, before the small scouting cavalry group the tatars had sent ahead would return the same way. That would be enough time for the duel.
"So we meet again", I said. The traitor turned around slowly, smiling.
"Last time you fought me next to a line of roman soldiers, and I won. This time you're fighting me next to a line of hunnic soldiers."
I ignored the taunt, and kept my eyes fixed on the traitor's eyes firmly, until he had to look away. His eyes returned again, but my anger and his shame of his treachery made it impossible for him to meet my gaze. I had won the first round, although not a single blow had been dealt with any weapon.
Filled with frustration, the man raised his sword to attack. I stepped aside and tried to deal a blow over the traitor's side. Miraculously, the traitor managed to twist in the air and raise the hilt of the sword to slow down axe blade, but it bounced off his sword and hit the traitor over the shoulder - the left, not the right, unfortunately. The man quickly regained control, and sidestepped back and forth, refusing to attack this time.
"You learn fast, Claudius", I taunted him. "Is it my turn to attack now?" The man nodded, trying to look grim, but the nod looked miserable and ridiculous in a way. Without warning I made a quick step forward, a feint attack, then a quick sideways movement followed by an attack. The injured man reacted quickly, and the axe missed.
"Your turn", I smiled.
"On the contrary, it's still your turn. It's your turn every turn, or you won't be ready until the hunnic cavalry returns." The traitor was right. I had to end this quickly. Again I prepared for an attack. Feint, sidestep, feint again, a rush forward, and a blow dealt to the back of the traitor. This time he couldn't parry, but the blow was too weak to have much of an impact. Then I heard the hooves of the tatars coming back. I would only have one more chance. Then I got an idea. Reaching for my belt, I carefully extracted the small dagger that was my reserve weapon. Maybe this could break the garde of the treacherous murderer? I made a third rush, feinted an attack, then sidestepped as quickly as I could, and then chopped as hard as I could towards the traitor's hip. A normally stupid move, that would open my garde and allow the opponent to deal a lethal blow to my neck or chest, but the traitor was too mentally pressured to react normally, and the flat edge of his sword got pressured towards his body, locking it in a position where he wouldn't be able to move it to parry my dagger. And then I struck my dagger into the chest of the traitor, penetrating into his heart. Blood spurted over both of us, and I prepared to turn around to run into the house and hide again. But then I felt something in my side. I looked at it. It was a dagger.

I turned to the traitor one last time, before starting my run into the house.
"Rome will fall anyway", the traitor whispered. "You can't divide your enemies and make them fight each others forever. Eventually they will unite. And then you realize, too late, that they were more numerous, and stronger, than you could ever have imagined." The man coughed, and his face turned stiff. I turned around and ran inside the house. Suddenly I felt very different about the man. I wondered what his history could be. Now I would never know.

I carefully removed the traitor's dagger. It hadn't struck deep, I was happy to notice that it wouldn't affect my fighting here today. Suddenly the horns and trumpets started again. The tatars were launching the main attack towards the plaza.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Franconicus

Hey, is this a two men story now?

---

You two are doing so well I didn't feel like interrupting.
:bow:

sorry guys... i've been writing my vietnam story but what i have read of you has been good so far

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The sound of the hooves striking the paved streets echoed deadlily throughout the city. I glanced out the house's window briefly before pulling back to get out of view of a group of Tartars speeding by. Once they had gone I crept back into the street and set off for the town center, where I hoped my comrades were putting up a defense. I rounded a corner to find a bloody heap of townspeople, slaughtered like cattle by the rampaging Huns. One was still there, looting the dead Romans. It disgusted me. These people were truley barbaric but my surprise attack allowed me to deal a swift blow to the Hun ending this raider's life easily. I glanced at the bodies and noticed with great sadness some of the faces who had argued for fleeing the city. They had stayed and fought instead. And died. The only thing i could do for them was respect their memory, mount the dead Hun's horse and head for the town center to fight off the Tartars with my comrades and brave souls such as they were.

54
At the town center, the slaughter had already gone very far. The last men of the garrison were trying to hold up their shields to withstand the pressure from hunnic infantry auxiliaries, but they were overwhelmed, pressured so hard that they crushed into each others and packed so densely they could barely move. And the constant attacks on their wall of shields had started to tire them so they could barely keep the shields up. Then I saw a wave of hunnic cavalry heading for the town center from another direction, ready to crash into the flank of the line. I tried to think fast - what could I do? I quickly called the attention of five other cavalrymen who had ended up in a situation similar to mine, and were heading to reinforce the town center. When they had my attention, I begun a charge towards the flank of the incoming hunnic cavalrymen. The huns changed course to meet our charge, and I quickly ordered the men to turn around. It seemed like we had managed to draw the attention of the hunnic cavalry away from the line, so the line would hold out for a bit longer. The chase continued for about half a minute, before I also heard hooves ahead of me. As I approached a road crossing, to my horror I saw another group of cavalry appear from around a corner. We were, five cavarlymen, were trapped between two huge forces of tatar cavalry. I turned to my comrades:
"This is it", I said. "This is the end. Let us raise our voices to a last war cry and charge! Let us end our lives with the loudest warcry the world has ever heard!" We raised our voices in a desperate scream, surprisingly loud for five men, and then ordered our horses forward.
Then something strange happened. The huns in front of us turned around, as if struck by endless fear. As I looked over my shoulder, the cavalry behind us turned away too. Then I heard it, the sound of horns. The tatars were ordering a retreat, they were in full flight, even though they were slaughtering the garrison. Something must have happened. It was then that I heard the sound of brighter horns, from the horizon. Brighter horns, and trumpets. The roman army was here! One of my comrades spoke:
"The roman army is here, the tatars are fleeing! The battle is over" But I shook my head.
"No, the battle is not over", I said. "The battle has just begun. We can still intercept the fleeing tatars near the gate."
"Not without sacrificing our lives", my comrades insisted.
I pointed towards the side of my chest, where the traitor's dagger had struck.
"Look at this", I said. "This won't kill me today, nor tomorrow, not even in a week. But it will kill me in a month, slowly, step by step. Rome may be falling, and may deserve to, but barbarians like the tatars do not deserve to be the ones to feast upon this empire. If we cut them off at the gate while they're in desperate flight and aren't paying attention, we can kill dozens of them before falling."
Then I charged away in the direction of the gate. I could only hear the hooves of two of the other men behind me.

55

If I recall that night I have to admit that my idea was noble - and stupid. Fortunately the Tartars were gone long before we reached the gate. Gone like the wind.

The Roman army came and occupied the town. What they found there did not raise their moral. Only a hanful of defenders were alive. The rest and most of the population was slaughtered by the Barbarians. Our brave army started to chase the Huns at once and once more I was left back with a small garisson.

We were waiting impatiantly for news from our main army. After three days we received it; or better said we saw it. Attila was not very well known then. It was the first time he tought the Romans a lesson in mobile warfare.

While the Romans were chasing the retreating Huns another Hun army, much bigger than the first and as mobile, appeared in its rear. Our legions were surrounded and they had to fight their way back. Only one of ten made it.

Now we had the same situation as before, we were trapped by the Huns. This time we had 2,000 soldiers, good trained ones. However, on the other side there were 50,000 Tartars.

To make our situation even worse the Huns had burned the warehouses with the supply. We did not have enough food for more than two days. No reenforcements could reach us. We were left alone.

56
Two days of food supply meant either we'd have to lure the enemy to attack, or we would have to attempt to sally. The huns had lost most of their infantry auxiliaries in the pursuit, before crushing the roman main army. But their cavalry was at full strength. There was no way of outranging their bows, which meant a sally would be suicide - the enemy would just keep their distance and rain their deadly salvoes over us. Making a trap inside the city would be the only option.

I wondered who had opened the gates last time. There must have been a traitor among us, maybe he was still here. Then we could, for once, use treachery among us to an advantage. I quickly assembled the men and explained my plan to them. We needed to let the enemy cavalry inside, but slow them down, and once inside rain our own, shorter ranged arrows, over them.

In the coming hours, waggons were put in side alleys, ready to quickly be rolled forward and create barricades for the tatar cavalry. Our archers quietly sneaked up on the walls, but remained lying, hidden from the enemy's view. Our cavalrymen stepped off their horses and armed themselves with long spears, forming something that resembled a phalanx, and they too remained hidden in side alleys. A man positioned himself next to the chains used for raising the gate. And I positioned myself close to the walls, alone. Then we raised the gates.

At first the huns stayed back. Then, a few of them carefully approached the walls. Looking inside, they must have seen empty streets, just like last time. We waited. Not until after several minutes, did I from my hidden position see movement in the tatar camp. Several of the tatars bowed before a small man with more horrible face than any of the others, and pointed towards the walls. Less than a minute later, the attack had already begun, with perfect formations and full speed towards the gates. It was by then I started to realize what an effective leader this man, that I would later learn went by the name of Attila, was.

I let them storm inside the gates. Like last time, they wanted to assemble a large force just inside the gates before beginning their charge up the alleys. Raising the horn in my hand, I prepared to give the signal. Then, suddenly, lack of discipline got the better of one of the archers, who couldn't resist firing into the tatar formation inside the gates. Only about a thousand tatars had been trapped so far - it was not enough, not enough at all. But now that the ambush was detected, I had no other option than make the signal, and let the slaughter begin. The gates closed behind the cavalrymen, and the next moment barricades, spearmen, and volleys of arrows from the walls begun their work on the trapped tatars. It was more of a slaughter than a battle. Only about a handful of the tatars agreed to surrender. The tatars had lost their entire force, while we had lost some 50 archers and 15 spearmen, with another 50 of each being lightly wounded. Even despite these figures, I was far from satisfied. The trap was consumed, and we were back where we started. One thousand men was just a fraction of the hunnic force. The only advantage we had, was the the huns didn't know we had such a shortage of supplies, and that the huns were possibly looking for a way of resupplying themselves, which would force them to take the city quickly.

57

While my men were still celebrating our victory the Huns prepared their next strike. Attila was not a man who would take a defeat easily, even if it was just a minor one.

When night fell we saw fires all around. Then the Huns started to bombard our town with fire balls. Normally we would have ordered the citizens to take care about the fire. However, there were no citizens left. Soon the town was burning.

Then the Tartars started to assault the town. They came from all sides. We were not enough to even occupy all sections. Their first wave opened the barricades, that had closed the holes in the walls. The next wave simply broke through the walls and opened the gates.

According to our plan the officers tried to retreat to the barricades at the centre. However, the path was blocked by the fire and they were either killed by the Huns or died in the flames.

I also tried the reach the centre of the town, decided to fight until the bitter end. I had no illution about my chances. Somehow I reached the centre, but I realized that I was alone and that I was surrounded by the flames. It was so hot and the smoke took my breath away. I prayed to my goods: "Odin, Thor, hear me! Did you save me from the cold in the steppe just to see me die from fire? Help me!"

There was no reply and I realized I had to find a way to save myself. I ran through the streets until the fire forced me to turn around. I ran to the other end, the same. I was trapped. Then I saw a house, quite big and solid made of stone. O entered it and I saw it was a temple. There was a strange statue of a man at a cross. Propably it was the god. Although I was in a hurry I wondered who would pray to a god that looked so weak.

I looked around and saw that I was save - at least for the moment. The walls would stand the fire. I saw that the altar was hollow and I hided myself inside.

58
I waited for an entire day inside that altar. The footsteps of the tatars, and their gargling voices could be heard outside for half a day, before everything got silent again. I waited another day, refusing to leave the hiding spot, even if my entire body was aching worse than any battle wounds could have made it do. I cursed the undisciplined archers who had put me in this situation, and caused the death of our entire garrison, for in return killing little more than 3000 men out of Attila's hundred thousand. Not until three days had passed since the battle, did I move out of my hiding spot. I could barely walk on my stiff legs, but the wound in my side miraculously felt better - it wasn't going to kill me, as I had thought. When I got outside I could barely keep the tears back - almost the entire city was burnt to the ground, little else than the house I had been hiding in was left. There were bodies everywhere, eyes picked out by carrion birds, clothes soaked with blood stains, and faces burnt beyond recognition. The horizon was crimson from the setting sun, but the sky above was colored in black and grey, covered by the silhouettes of schreeching crows and vultures. Apart from their noise, and the sounds of a few still glowing pieces of wood, the place was silent, eerie. I had never seen a battlefield like this before. What I had once thought was a matter of honor, now seemed absurd, disgusting. As I went for the gates the silence was broken. One of the bodies was talking to me. I turned around quickly and reached for my axe. It wasn't a corpse, but the body was so badly damaged and oddly shaped that I didn't understand how it could be alive. But yet, it spoke. I leaned forward to hear what it said.

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Chapter 6: ORDEAL

I looked at that face, but I had to turn my face because I could not stand the look. I heard the words - an endless tream - but I did not understand a single one. However, I understood their meaning - they were words of pain and desperation.

I looked at his clothes. He was not a Roman. Not a Hun either. I assumed he was an Allani, who had joined the Hun army. I forced myself to look at the face, again. Disgust and horror made my body shiver. However I realized that this man was neither deformed by combat wounds nor by torture. The wounds came from the inside. He had lumps all over, scarlet ones, some bleeding. I had to turn my face again. The man, I call it man, was still screaming. I understood his request. I took my axe and liberated him from his pain without looking at him again.

I left his corpus behind. Noone could have buried all the dead bodies in the town. I only hoped that another creature would take care of them.

Without a thought I followed the traces of the Huns. After a while I met a horse and could speed up.

I passed areas complety destroyed by the Barbarians. Only very few people seemed to have survived. Those who had run away when they saw me. My company were the unburried deads.

Although I hurried I could not get closer to the Huns. They were very fast, as usually. Ghosts ride fast, my mother used to say.

I folloewd the Huns for weeks. They crossed the Alps and I saw thatthey were heading for the centre of the world. And it looked like the world would loose that centre soon. However, then I saw something else. First only a few, three or four, then more and more and at last douzend of them. Dead Huns. Not killed by combat. They had they same faces as the man I killed when I left the town.

60
Disease, I thought. I wondered why I hadn't gotten the disease yet, having followed the huns for days so recklessly, without realizing what a danger it meant. Odin had decided to protect me, like he had protected me from both ice and fire, he now protected me against the muddy earth, from which diseases spring. I rode for three days more, before the landscape changed again. I was getting close to the great river that divides Gallia Cisalpina, and the ground had changed from forest and hills to vast open lands, something that looked strange and unusual for a man who had grown up in the dense forests of the north. The entire landscape was like an infinite sand bank of the type that lies next to the rivers also to the north, but to the north they were seldom wider than an axe blade. For hours, I rode through this desert, through this land where only meagre, twisted plants could grow, covered in layers of grey dust. My only company was my horse, and I suspected the horse had once been ridden by one of the huns, because it sometimes had an empty look in it's eyes, sometimes fire sparkling through them, with slow, proud movements of the neck, but aggressive, quick steps with the feet. Even though I couldn't call out the demons of this creature completely like the tatars could, I was able to make it run faster than any other horse I had ever ridden. Suddenly, I had a feeling of being followed. As the sun set before the third night in this unforgiving, dry desert, I decided not to light a fire to sleep by. Instead, I tied the horse to a dry, thorny bush and then sneaked away from the place as quietly as I could, grabbing my axe tightly, and watching the place where the horse lied, and where any follower would expect me to be, from a safe distance. At first I didn't see anything, but then a skinny figure, that reminded me of a skeleton, appeared next to the horse. It sneaked away as quickly as it had appeared. I slept little that night, and when I woke up in my hiding spot, it was already day. There were no traces of any followers, and I quickly took the horse and continued my pursuit of the huns.

61

I rode the horse up a tall hill to try and catch a glance of the Huns. The wind blew the horses mane wildly and i noticed my own unruley hair snatched by a gust of howling wind. I had never experienced anything so bitter and harsh, yet unbreakable and undefeatable as this bitter wind that swept the empty plains, perfect for the horses of the Huns to graze. In the deep wooded valeys of the north, where infantry rule, we stood a fighting chance against the Tartar horde. But in the empty expanse... cavalry would rule the day. In the distance I saw it; a long, snaking trail of horses and men. My own horse snorted yearningly when it's own keen eyes spotted it's people.

62

The Huns had stopped their march and camped near a town called Mantua. Although the hordes were still marauding the whole area it did not look like they were marching to Rome soon. They looked like they were waiting for something.

After two weeks there was a small caravan coming on the road from Rome. There were only 20 men, all mounted with the expection of a carriage. They had a lot of crosses and banners but, as far as I could see, not any weapon. Of course I knew the banner at the front; it was the sign of Leo, the leader of the Christs in Rome.

I set on my horse and tried to reach them before the Huns would catch them.

63
I hadn't even gotten out of my hiding spot on the hill before hunnic arrows started flying through the air. The shining chainmail worn by the mounted bodyguards proved to be of little help against the black crow feathered arrows that struck them. I hadn't seen the huns from a safe distance like this before, and I was amazed at how they could communicate with each others without speaking. Not a single arrow was wasted, each man knew which target to hit. None of the bodyguards were struck by more than one arrow, and none of the bodyguard was struck by less than one, even though only 20 were fired. I held back my horse, and gazed at the golden carriage. It had slided off the road and the dead horses were entangled in the ropes with which they were attached to the carriage. One of the crosses of the carriage was loose, on the verge of falling off. The gold decorations were smeared with mud. The entire scene looked so silent, so still. Was there nobody inside the carriage? Why was there no movement from it? Three of the huns jumped off their horses and approached the carriage.

64

In some ways I wish I hadn't erupted from my hiding place to help. The soldiers were dead before I had even started my hunnic horse into a trot. One of the other huns, on horseback, spotted me and pointed silently, his bearded face grim set on death. They levelled their bows to my head height and I knew I was a dead man. The gods are truly fickle. I had to do something they wouldn’t expect. It was the only way I would survive. Instead of running away from them, I bravely set my horse into a canter and then into a full run. The huns with their bows at me glanced at me; they must think I was a crazy fool. I probably was. But it got me close enough until they finally got over the shock at the first arrow came. I pulled on the reigns, as if I could save Rome with my strength alone, and my horse glanced to the side. I felt the arrow scream by my head, whipping through my hair. The other huns we shocked. I wasn’t just some crazed fool. I was a trained crazed foolish soldier, and I was gonna give them a fight to make them wish they weren’t selected for the patrol.

65

For a moment I thought I could stand the fight, the fight against a superior numbers of Huns. After two seconds I was forced to return to reality again. In the wink of an eye the Huns had reloaded and fired another volley while my horse was still standing. I bowed, trying to give them a small target. However, they did not shoot at me, they targeted my horse and several arrows clapped into its breast.
The next things happened very slow. My horse bowed low until its head finally touched the ground. I tried desperatly to cling to it. However, I finally slipped forward, very slow but inevitable. I tumbled over the head of the dying creature and sat on the ground.

When I raised my head again. I was surrounded by the Huns and their horses. Of course the had reloaded and were ready to shoot. I gave up. Nothing would save me, not any of my Gods could rescue me. I was at the mercy of the Hun's, a word - that I was sure of - they had never heard in their lifes and that they were not able to understand. Tears were in my eyes, not tears of pain or fear. It was anger that wettened my eyes, anger that this was the end, the end after all this struggling from the steppe of the east until the plains of Italy.

Just when I thought my life was over something happaned. Something odd and strange. I had closed my eyes, so that I had not to face the Huns when I was dying. I waited for the impact of the arrows. Nothing! I waited longer. Still nothing. I opened my eyes and looked at the huns. They were still where they had been before. However, they did not care about me, they looked at something that was behind my back. Obviously something that confused them and distracted them from killing me.

Slowly, not to attract their attantion, I turned around. I had expected to something like a Roman legion, or a bear or even Thor brandishing his hammer. Something so strong that it could impress even Huns. What I saw was nothing like that. It was so weak, so meek and so modest that it looked unreal and in a strange sense - scaring.

A man had left the coach. A single man, small, skinny - obviously no a warrior. He wore an artless robe. He looked so poor. And yet there was something special about that man, something that caused the Huns to surcease their victim. There was a kind of aura - I say aura because I do not know any word that would descibe it better - an aura that surrounded him. He slowly stepped forward. The Huns did not moove. They just stared at the phantom.

Five steps in front of me the man stopped and raised his arms.