Chapter 8: The Invaders

(Near the Danube River - 4th Century AD)

“Come along Gosvintha.”

The little girl knew she was in trouble when her mother called her Gosvintha instead of just Vintha. She had been crouching near the river, watching a duck occasionally dart forward, head slipping under the water to grab a tiny fish. “Mama, ducks.”

“Yes, yes. I see them.” She stopped and motioned for Vintha one more time. “Come. You can watch the ducks later.”

Vintha stood and hurried after her mother. Though, as she did, she wondered how many times the duck would have to try for a fish before it caught one. Would that be a great life? Or a terrible one? Floating in the water all day did seem peaceful, but also a little boring. It was nowhere near as interesting as following around behind Mama, learning all the things that a girl must learn to take her place in the world. And Mama knew many things because Mama was the wise woman of the village. She interpreted the will of the gods, the many portents and signs. She knew when best to do important things like plant or harvest, and she helped people and animals who might be sick due to the gods’ anger.

The high grass was taller than Vintha and made it difficult for her to see where she was going. She did her best to follow right behind Mama, and not get lost. Mama used to always carry her, but now that she was getting big, she could walk by herself. Today she was carrying a basket of eggs. Very important, and very delicate! Only big girls got such jobs. Hathus had given the eggs to her mother as payment for helping with a sick pig. That was their first stop. Now they were going to see Adosinda, to make sure that she would give birth easily.

The little hut appeared as if from nowhere for Vintha, as she couldn’t really see much from behind Mama. Adosinda and her husband lived some ways from the village, because they worked with leather, and the smell could get quite bad. Today, though, no overpowering smell presented itself. Just a faint lingering stink of strange oils and salts and other things used to make the leather supple and strong. Adosinda’s husband had gone with the other men to fight, and Adosinda couldn’t do the work herself while pregnant.

Adosinda’s big, round belly made it hard for her to kiss Mama. They were close because they had married brothers, so that made them sisters of a sort. “Look at you, Vintha. Aren’t you getting big?”

Vintha smiled and almost spun around to show Adosinda, but she stopped because that would endanger the eggs.

“She’s growing like a weed, that one. Got a hollow leg, too,” Mama said.

Adosinda put her hands on her hips. “Guess what, Vintha. I’ve got cherries. Would you like some? Let’s go inside.”

Minutes later, Vintha was sitting in the corner with a little wooden bowl of cherries while Mama and Adosinda spoke. The cozy little hut’s frame sat into the side of a hollowed-out hill, making it half freestanding wood, half dirt held back by logs. Inside, Adosinda’s womanly touch had made the dwelling warm and inviting despite the smallness, and red-orange coals on the fire kept the smidgen of mid-Spring chill at bay. Mama helped Adosinda pull off her coarse lace-up-the-side overdress, and then put her hands up Adosinda’s underdress after she got comfy on the nearby raised bedding pallet. “The baby sits well.”

“Are you sure it’s only one? I feel like it might be two. Sometimes there are kicks in different places.”

“Might be two. But, also might just be one using both his feet and hands. A fighter then?”

“Mm. I’d like a sweet-tempered girl, like your Vintha. Girls stay home and help their mothers,” Adosinda said quietly as she sat up, albeit with a bit of a struggle. She handed the other woman a rag to wipe her hands. “Boys go off to fight with their fathers, and then you just lose them to the invaders. Or the Romans.”

Vintha didn’t know much about the invaders, other than that they came from the East, and they had strange faces and clothes. At least, that’s what people said, she’d never met one. They also had magical talking horses, according to the stories. Vintha very much wanted to meet a talking horse. But, it seemed unlikely she’d get to do so because anyone who saw the invaders tended to die. They would come on their horses and kill or enslave everyone. There were usually too many of them to fight.

Vintha didn’t care for the Romans, but she had met Romans before. They lived to the south and west, and sometimes the village would trade with them. Sometimes they’d fight the Romans, but sometimes they were friendly. The male Romans looked funny to Vintha because they didn’t have any beards and cut all their hair off. And the lady Romans didn’t wear braids and instead kept all their hair piled on top of their heads. The Romans, although less scary, wanted to make sure the people of the local villages didn’t try to live on the other side of the river. Mama said that side of the river was cursed anyway, because the Romans had killed all their own gods except one. The god they kept was a god of slaves. Slaves didn’t have much power, so their god wouldn’t have much power to protect people. A god of slaves would also want worshippers to be slaves, and Mama said she’d rather drown in the river than become a Roman slave.

“Let’s see what it’ll be,” Mama said, taking an egg from the basket Vintha had carried. She sat next to Adosinda and carefully began to roll the egg around on the pregnant woman’s belly. Vintha had seen her do this before. The spell allowed her to tell if the baby would be a boy or a girl. If you cracked the egg open and it had a little white fluff against the yolk, that meant it would be a boy. Two small white fluffs on opposite ends of the yolk meant it would be a girl. And if you couldn’t see the fluff, that meant the gods didn’t want you to know yet. Mostly it worked, but sometimes it didn’t because of various trickster gods. But if it didn’t work because of a trickster god, that was still good to know, because then you would know trickster gods were interested in your baby, and you could take extra precautions.

“You should come into the village until the child is born. It’s not good to be out here alone like this,” Mama said to Adosinda, chiding her gently to try to get her to comply. Mama always said that Adosinda was stubborn as an ox. “You can stay with us. We have plenty of room.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine here. You worry too much.”

Mama shook her head and grabbed a bowl. Vintha watched as she cracked the egg with confidence, and then held it high over the bowl to pull it open. But, what came out of the egg wasn’t the usual clear albumin and yellow yolk, but a thick, goopy, black substance. It looked to Vintha like the tar sometimes used for waterproofing boats. It dripped down slowly, a horrifying goo that made the two women gasp, and the little girl ask, “What’s that, Mama?”

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At that moment, a terrible clamor arose, coming from right outside of the hut. Dropping the strange egg into the bowl, Mother sprung to her feet and held up a hand for Adosinda and Vintha to stay put. From the nearby table, she grabbed a cleaver for chopping meat and slowly made her way to the entrance. Before she could get there, the door fell open, and a figure stumbled inside.

“Hjalmar?” Adosinda exclaimed as she did her best to get to her feet.

Hjalmar, Vintha knew, was Adosinda’s brother. He had a club foot, so he couldn’t go to fight with the other men. Even though he couldn’t run, he was a big man, and still could throw a good punch, people said, so that made him great for aiding in the protection of the village.

Mama asked, “What happened?”, as she put down the cleaver and pulled Hjalmar into the hut.

“The invaders,” Hjalmar croaked. He lifted a hand from his side that came away slick with dark blood. Vintha put her bowl of cherries down and moved closer, unafraid of the gore. She’d been with her mother to tend to bleeding people many times now. This wasn’t even near as bad as when the goatherd from the next village got his arm chopped off in a fight over a woman. “They’re in the village. Dozens have died. The women…” Hjalmar glanced briefly at Vintha, and then shook his head, as if unwilling to explain what had happened to the women in front of her. “We need to go, I have a small boat on the river. The Roman outpost will be safe until the men return.”

Mama nodded her head once. Immediately, she grabbed Vintha, hoisting the little girl up onto her hip despite having told her several times in the last week that she was now too big to carry. “Adosinda, grab some cloth. We’ll bind Hjalmar’s wound once we’re in the boat.”

The little group quickly, and silently, headed out of the hut, listening for any sign of the invaders. The way in which Mama carried her allowed Vintha to see over her shoulder, and watch as Adosinda struggled with her big pregnant belly and an armload of fabric including her overdress, and Hjalmar did his best to limp swiftly beside her. The well-traveled path to the river was steep, and could be slippery after rains so all of them took as much care as they could in traveling to the water’s edge. At the bottom, they made a sharp left and traveled along the bank of the river, with Hjalmar now taking the lead to show them to his boat.

Suddenly, Mama stopped. The sound of an arrow whizzing through the air and striking something was followed by hoofbeats nearby. When Mama whirled around and began running back in the direction they came, Vintha could see Hjalmar on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back as a horse and rider approached. The short, stocky horse looked a bit like a donkey with a denser, rougher coat, but moved in complete sympatico with its rider - a small man with a fur hat and odd clothes. Vintha watched the man on the horse lift his bow again, aiming in the direction of the running women, and thought for sure the next thing she’d feel would be an arrow going through her. But the arrow slid past them and hit a tree trunk.

The man on the horse didn’t follow them, but Vintha could hear shouts nearby, and more horses stomping through the forest. At one point, Adosinda screamed, the noise bloodcurdling, but Vintha couldn’t see what happened to her. Mama kept murmuring, “No, no. Don’t look, Vintha, don’t look,” and she tried not to look. She squeezed her eyes closed, but her fear wouldn’t allow them to stay closed for long. Mama ran and ran, into the deep forest, far enough from the river that Vintha couldn’t hear the water anymore.

Soon, Vintha found herself on the ground with Mama looming over her. She’d put Vintha between two large prominent tree roots. “Curl up into a little ball, Vintha. As small as you can.” The terrified look on Mama’s face scared Vintha. She wanted to ask questions, to ask Mama if Adosinda would be alright. But, Mama immediately began putting small branches sheered off by a recent spring storm over the alcove where Vintha lay curled into a tight little ball. “You stay here. Don’t get up until you hear my voice, alright?”

“Mama, I’m scared.”

“I know. But, you must be brave now. Do everything you can to stay still and quiet until you hear me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Good.” Mama leaned in and kissed Vintha’s forehead before placing the final branch. Then she saw Mama stand, and rush off.

Vintha did her best to stay still and quiet, even when she heard horses and men nearby. They spoke in a language she couldn’t understand. Several times, they laughed or yelled out what sounded like commands to others. Eventually, the voices got further away, and Vintha couldn’t hear anything anymore. The forest became silent. Little Vintha waited and waited, but Mama didn’t come back. The sun went down, and the sky grew dark, and yet Vintha waited, remaining curled in her ball. She stayed curled as long as she could, but eventually, her knees hurt, and she needed to relieve herself. Vintha reasoned that as long as she didn’t spend too much time doing it, and went right back to where Mama left her, then she probably wouldn’t get in too much trouble for not doing what Mama said.

It took a few minutes for Vintha to get out of her hiding space. One of the branches had gotten wedged badly, and she couldn’t lift it out of the way. Instead, she had to slide on her belly underneath it into the forest. As she crawled out, she stopped, once more, to listen for any noises. Nothing. She picked a stick out of her hair and wiped her hands on her stomach, trying to get the dirt off before finding a place to urinate.

After she finished and set her skirt right again, Vintha made her way back towards the tree with the big roots and all the branches so that she could hide again. She thought maybe, now, she could sleep a little. If she slept, maybe Mama would come back and wake her up.

Vintha quickly realized that she’d gotten turned around in the darkness. She thought the tree was only a few steps away, but when she took a few steps back in the direction she thought she came from, she couldn’t see it. Then she took a few more steps. And a few more. Panic flooded her. What if Mama came back but Vintha wasn’t where she’d left her? Even though she’d been brave for hours, tears began to well in her eyes, the blurring making it even more difficult to see where she was going. Soon, Vintha began running and calling out, “Mama! Mama!” She started to sob, crying loudly, all the more frustrated with herself because she didn’t want to be crying. She wanted to be brave! But, Vintha realized she was alone. What would she do if Mama didn’t come back? What if a snake came? Or a wolf? “Mama! Mama!” Vintha didn’t even know which way she needed to go to get back to the village.

“Ah, what’s this? Who do you belong to?”

Vintha spun around to see a silhouetted figure standing nearby. He spoke her language, so she knew he wasn’t an invader. “I can’t find Mama,” Vintha wailed. Suddenly, she sprinted towards the man and hugged his leg.

“Is that so?” The man gently nudged Vintha away from his leg and then crouched down. “How about I help you find her?”

Vintha nodded and sniffled, wiping her tears away to get a better look at her rescuer. He didn’t look like the invader she’d seen earlier, or like a Roman. In fact, he looked quite a bit like one of the men from town, except for the fact that for some reason, his skin glowed from within. She could see light leaking out from his mouth when it opened, from his eyes when they looked certain directions. She even thought she could see his blood moving around in the little pathways around his body, backlit by some strange inner light. It was like putting fabric up to a lantern and the light still making it through in tiny amounts. Vintha had never seen someone glow like that before.

“Why is there light coming out of you?” Vintha asked, touching the man’s cheek.

“Oh that?” She saw him smile as he stood up, hefting her up as well so as to carry her. “That is because I’m Chosen by god.”