CRACK! went the log as Vidar’s ax spit the wood. They would need more of it if they were to survive the winter. He wiped the sweat from his brow and placed another log on the chopping block.
“Hail, Vidar!” said a voice behind him. It was Quirinius, the Roman centurion, with two of his Germanic legionnaires at his side.
“Hail, Quirinius,” said Vidar, saluting the Roman.
As they had no tribe or home to return to, Vidar and Torbjorn had decided to sell their skills as mercenaries, eventually becoming unofficial legionnaires under the Romans. Vidar did not care for the Romans - he always felt that they disrespected his people, calling them “savages”, but he had observed the decadence of these so-called civilized people and how they delighted in violent games in the amphitheater. He had seen their gluttonous consumption of food and alcohol, and the idleness brought about by decades of ease. But Vidar also knew that he himself might behave much the same under similar circumstances. In a way, he pitied them. But it made no difference; his wife and unborn child were fed and that's all that mattered to him.
Quirinius was an exception. He was a war-dog if ever Vidar had seen one. His steele-gray eyes were sharp, his body toned, and his motions quick and fluid. He was a Roman for certain, but he had much blood from the so-called barbarian lands; perhaps from the Gauls or the Helvetii. Quirinius and Vidar regarded one another as two lions from rival prides. In another time and place, they could have been brothers.
“I hear you are a skilled hunter as well as a warrior,” said the centurion.
“I like to think so, good sir,” replied Vidar in the best Latin he could manage, which admittedly was not very good.
“One of the villas has reported a missing goat from the herd,” said Quirinius. “The carcass was found a mile or two from here, torn and half-eaten. They’re saying it was a wolf.”
Vidar nodded. Perhaps Torbjorn had been less than careful during the last full moon two nights before.
“I would like you to go out and kill it for me,” continued Quirinius. “There’s a barrel of wine in it for you if you return with the wolf’s pelt.”
Vidar nodded again. A barrel of wine would cheer his countenance considerably, and could be traded for other things. It seemed like an awfully high price to ask for a wolf.
“I will do my best, sir,” said Vidar.
“I expect you will.”
With that, Quirinius went on his way to wherever he was going.
That evening, Vidar and Torbjorn sat down at the table to dine on the pottage Astrith had made.
“I’ve never heard anyone speak as he spoke,” said Torbjorn. “Such boldness. I even saw a devil cast out of a man!”
“Torbjorn, if the Christian God were so all powerful, why did He allow our people to be slaughtered by the Huns?”
“I do not know, sire,” replied Torbjorn. “I only know what I saw.”
Vidar shrugged his shoulders and ate another mouthful of pottage.
“Maybe he could take away the curse,” suggested Torbjorn.
Vidar glared at Torbjorn for a span of a few seconds, then sighed. “If the Christian God could not even keep His own Son from dying, how could he help us? Besides; we are Goths. What have we to do with Roman gods?”
“Oh, come now Vidar,” said Astrith. “What would it hurt to - oh!” She groaned slightly.
“What is it, my love?” asked Vidar.
“The child grows restless,” replied Astrith. “I feel him leaping and struggling within my womb. He shall come out any time now.”
“He’ll be a mighty warrior like his father,” said Torbjorn.
“I fear he will be a werewolf as well,” said Astrith. “He became quite excited during the full moon. I could practically feel him trying to claw his way out!”
Vidar’s expression soured. He did not wish to pass this curse onto his children, but it seemed he had little choice in the matter.
“I saw Quirinius today,” said Vidar, changing the topic of discussion. “He said one of the villas had lost a goat to a wolf attack.”
Torbjorn looked up from his pottage.
“I told you to stay in the forest,” growled Vidar.
“And I would have,” said Torbjorn, “but the beast - it compels me! There were no deer to be found in the woods that night, so I went to one of the villas. I thought they would not miss a single goat.”
Vidar grasped his forehead.
“Torbjorn,” said Astrith, “we have already had to move twice because we were found out! I do not wish to move again. Where shall we go? Gaul? Britannia? We would be no more welcome there!”
“And now Quirinius wants me to bring him a wolf hide,” said Vidar. “If I do not, and the killings continue, what am I to tell him?”
“I do not know, sire,” said Torbjorn.
“Surely there are wolves somewhere out there,” said Astrith.
“They are becoming scarce in this part of the world,” said Vidar. “Still, Quirinius expects us to at least look.”
“Aye,” said Torbjorn.
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” said Vidar.
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