Stories thread

[TheFlax]

365 AD, Winter
Near Aquincum

Visimar, weary of a journey of roughly three years, stood stoic in the chilly winter morning. Below him, out in the distance, laid the city of Aquintum, the Vandal king's first Roman city. He dared not show the awe he felt at the sight of the high stone walls of the city, lest his men think less of him. However he felt, he had come here as the vanguard of his people, to assure them a better life. Ordering most of his troops to sent up a makeshift camp, King Visimar picked a few of his finest riders to accompany him closer to the Roman city.

The small mounted group stopped at the outcropping of a small forest, not far from the city gates, and at the order of the king, one of the men waived a large battered white cloth, signal to the Romans that they wished to discuss. It took only a short time before a small group of roman cavalrymen rode out of Aquincum and made their way towards Visimar's band. These roman horsemen were hale and hearty, strong and well equipped, they bore a certain resemblance in their features to the small party of Vandals, but their roman banner marked their allegiance clearly. Unsurprisingly, these men spoke a similar tongue as the Vandals and soon an rough understanding between the two was reached. Nevertheless, both sides were on edge, each carefully studying the movements of the others.

During the discussion, one of the Romans seemed to reach for something in his heavy cloak. Childeric, one of the men accompanying Visimar screamed out a warning before unsheathing his blade. In the following instant before chaos erupted, the Roman rider was skewered and was revealed to be reaching for a gourd.

Visimar screamed defiantly, wishing to prevent the bloodbath that was about to happen.

It was in vain, his men instantly pulled our their own swords and joined Childeric. Some of the surprised Romans managed to put up a fight, but soon each of their eight bloody body laid strewn upon the snow, gashed and pierced by Vandal blades.

Some time later, Visimar and his five followers gathered further in the woods. Soon they would have to return to the camp and fighting the Romans over a misunderstanding, however innocent it has been, would not motivate the men to continue the journey, much less defeat the Romans along the way. No, for this exodus to succeed it would have to be the Romans' fault. Yet, for this to be believable, to be irrefutable, Visimar knew a sacrifice had to be made.

Dismounting, the King of the Vandals motioned Childeric to join him. They had known each other for two decades and for all that time Childeric had been his valiant companion, one of his most trusted lieutenants like the four other present. This made the deed all the more painful for Visimar, but the though of his people, his responsibility, drove him on. In one swift motion he drew a dagger and buried it in his friend's throat, cradling Childeric as the proud warrior fell to the ground clutching the mortal wound, his expression showing shock and surprise. Despite all his efforts to remain composed, Visimar shed a single tear.

During the following minute, Visimar remained crouched near his fallen friend and any of his four companions could have slain him easily, but such was their loyalty to the man, they simply stood to the side, themselve shocked by the brutal display. Then began the gruesome task of removing Childeric's head, which Visimar did with a small hatchet while explained his plan to his fellows. They would bring back Childeric's head as proof of Roman duplicity and following the general outrage of the men, Visimar would lead them to siege Aquincum. For this to work and for Childeric's sacrifice to retain its meaning, they would have to each take a vow to keep the truth silent. Each of them nodded in a certain understanding, a certain reluctance showing, but for now the secret was safe.

When Visimar arrived to camp and told his men what has happened, he found that the lies came much too easily for burdened conscience.