I don't own Aladdin, any of the characters etc. Everything belongs to Disney and I'm not making money with this, nor am I associated with the company in any way.
A BARBARIAN'S LIFE FOR ME
Chapter 4
When Runtar was six, he started to realise that there was something wrong with him. He loved playing with other children, but he could never keep up with them. When they were running to their secret spots in the fields, he was always the last to get there. When they wrestled or played something, he always lost.
"Maybe you aren't trying hard enough," one of the other boys suggested one time when they were having a stone throwing competition, and Runtar bit back a remark about that he couldn't try any harder when he couldn't lift even the smallest stones.
He was always in the way. Other boys had to be careful around him so that they wouldn't hurt their little friend. He couldn't join all the games and most of the time, others had to help him regardless of what they were doing. Nobody teased or mocked him about it, but playing with others got less and less fun with every passing day.
Eventually, he didn't join the games anymore. He lingered at the edges of the group, watching how others played and laughed. Sometimes, he would help them when their ball flew away or got stuck in a little hole. That was all he could do, but he learnt to drain everything out of those little moments. There was nothing sweeter than an honest "Thanks, Runtar" that he got before the others left him again to continue their game.
One day, he was sitting in the grass and watching how the others wrestled. They hadn't asked him to join anymore, and he didn't mind. It was the way things were supposed to be, and maybe he even got a little satisfaction of out that. If he had to be miserable, then at least he wanted to blame it on others.
"Hi, Runtar!"
He turned around when a loud, happy voice greeted him from behind. Another boy, around his age, had shown up. He was wearing a big, goofy grin and his face was practically beaming.
"Hello, Prince Uncouthma," Runtar replied.
Uncouthma pointed at the others who hadn't noticed him yet. "Why aren't you over there?" he asked. He looked at Runtar with the kind of honest curiosity that he couldn't be mocking the smaller child.
"I don't like playing," Runtar said. Unlike the others, Uncouthma hadn't given up on him. The Prince asked him to join them every day and always received the same answer.
"Why? Are you sick?" Uncouthma asked.
"No. Wrestling is stupid," Runtar said.
"Oh." The prince looked at him for a while. "Well, you do look a little weak, I guess. Maybe you should stay here."
"Maybe," Runtar admitted, but saying that out loud felt a lot more difficult than he had guessed. I may be weak, but I'm not useless, his mind argued with him. There were things he could do. It wasn't his fault if nobody else ever felt like doing them.
"Will you join us tomorrow?" Uncouthma asked, as he always did.
"Perhaps," Runtar said with a shrug. The other boy didn't seem affected by his tone or the fact that Runtar always offered that same reply. His grin grew wider and he patted Runtar on the back, knocking the air out of the smaller boy's lungs.
"Great!" Uncouthma smiled at him and for a moment, Runtar considered smiling back. However, that was when the others realised that their prince had turned up and came running to them. It didn't take long before they had surrounded Uncouthma and dragged him away to join a new game.
They're idiots, Runtar thought to himself. Yet he couldn't bring himself to leave the scene and find something else to do. He remained there and watched. Uncouthma easily won every round and the other boys stared at him in awe.
"You're so cool, Uncouthma!" they praised.
"My boy Barnak told me that Prince Uncouthma defeated everyone in wrestling today," Antav said to his friends in the tavern. He raised his mug to his lips and drank long. "Even the oldest lads couldn't stand against him. He'll be a mighty leader when he grows up."
This was met with growls of approval. Everybody liked the young prince. Even at a very young age, he showed great promise. He was strong, fast, and was already learning to wield a weapon. He treated everyone like they were his friends and had never shown any contempt for those of lower class.
"Of course, my Barnak was almost as good as him," Antav continued quickly.
"I heard that he actually got quite a beating," someone commented from the row of barbarians. "He ran straight to mommy when his nose started bleeding!"
"Maybe he should start playing with the girls instead!" another barbarian, one with thick, strikingly red hair and beard, replied.
Antav slammed his mug to the table and glared at everyone. "So, maybe Barnak isn't the strongest boy around, but he knows about weapons. When Prince Uncouthma rides to battle, it'll be with swords and bows made by my boy!" he said and continued glaring, tempting someone to disagree.
"Don't worry, he's a fine boy," Osred assured his friend. He knew how strongly Antav could take criticism and how proud his friend was.
"That he is," Antav replied. "Say, how did your boy do?"
Osred wanted to grimace. He had been expecting that question. "Runtar is smart enough to stay out of fights. He'd only get hurt," he said.
"Right. It must be hard for you," the red-haired barbarian commented. His name was Tanrid and he was the owner of the tavern.
"No, not really. Runtar is a clever boy," Osred said. He knew his friends would never understand. Strength was everything in Odiferous and if you didn't have it, you were nobody. He felt ashamed whenever he thought back to what he had felt like when Runtar had been born.
"But he can't bring fortune on your family, and Mildburh hasn't given you another child…" Tanrid insisted. He was big, even for a barbarian, and one of the wealthiest men in the city. "My oldest son will become a hunter, and the younger one will have the tavern. What do you think Runtar can do?"
"I've been thinking about teaching him how to track. He's small, so he can be really quiet, and the animals will have a hard time noticing him," Osred defended his son. He finished his drink and got up before anyone had the time to reply. He left the tavern and entered the cool night air.
He hated it when others belittled his son. He had grown to realise that Runtar was special in his own way, but it looked like he and his wife were the only ones to notice. Everyone else treated the boy like he was deformed somehow.
Well, that wasn't really true. The other children were happy to have Runtar around. They were too young to realise that there was something wrong. Osred had hoped that it would encourage Runtar to make friends, but it looked like his son preferred solitude. That was another thing that made him sad.
"Don't be so damn fast, Osred!"
The black-haired hunter turned around when he heard Antav's voice. His friend was hurrying after him. When he finally reached him, he gave him a punch to the shoulder.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked.
"You could have left your ale unfinished," Osred said.
Antav laughed. "No barbarian would do such a thing!" Then he grew serious again. "You shouldn't mind Tanrid. He loves picking fights," he said.
"I know," Osred sighed. Out of everyone, Antav was probably the one that came the closest to understanding.
"It sounded like a very good idea, the tracking, I mean. That's something Runtar could do," his friend offered.
"He could do so much if people just gave him the chance."
Antav only grunted at that. It was obvious that he disagreed, but he didn't voice his opinion. Sometimes Osred thought his friend thought of Runtar as a disabled child, someone who was a person, but with whom you had to be very patient.
He decided to change the subject. "You said Barnak will be making swords. Will he become a blacksmith?" he asked. Antav only sold weapons, didn't make them himself.
His friend nodded. "He will have my store when he grows up, but I think it would be a good idea if he could also make them. I've asked Garean about it, and he agreed to take Barnak as his apprentice."
"Then we'll be seeing a lot of your son," Osred said. Garean was their neighbour and another friend of his. "Your boy can come over any time if he's hungry or needs anything. Runtar could use the company as well. He doesn't have many friends."
"Sounds good," Antav said, but his tone and the way he couldn't meet Osred's eyes told the hunter that his friend didn't like the idea. He felt the temptation to remark that small size wasn't contagious.
If there was one thing Runtar didn't like, it was shopping for his mother. It wasn't the task itself that frustrated him, for he knew it was his responsibility to help out at home. He just would have preferred any other way of doing that.
The marketplace was big and always buzzing with people. Men and women behind their stands were shouting at the by-passers, competing in who could glorify their merchandise the best. People were chattering, laughing, and making an awful lot of noise. They hovered over Runtar's little form, and most of them didn't even seem to notice him, which often resulted in him being shoved aside.
He knew nobody was doing it on purpose. They were just too busy to pay attention to him. That didn't do much good at making him feel better, however, so he was always glaring around with a murderous scowl.
"Isn't that Osred's son over there? Look at the way he keeps staring at us! No manners at all!" someone said. He didn't turn his head to see who it was. Not that it would have helped because it was impossible for him to see over the crowd.
Getting to the marketplace wasn't even the worst part. No, that came when he had bought whatever he needed and had to get back. Carrying a basket full of cheese, onions, milk, and sour bread was like dragging a bear along. Knowing that such a simple task took so much effort and that everybody was looking at him made him feel awful and ashamed.
He bought the groceries as fast as he could and started the troublesome trip back home. He managed to do quite well and allowed himself to think that he might get everything done right this time. The thought cheered him up and he picked up his pace, eager to be at home early.
A little stone had different plans for him. Just when he arrived to the right street, he tripped and dropped the basket. Everything flew all around the street and he was left holding his hurt knee. He groaned to himself and got up.
"Hey, are you okay?"
A boy rushed to his side and helped him stand up. Runtar immediately recognised him as Barnak, the son of one of his father's friends. Barnak was a little younger than him, so the fact that he stood a head taller was something that always made Runtar wary of him.
"I'm fine," he replied and brushed dust off his tunic, ignoring the pain in his knee.
"I'll help you pick up the food," Barnak offered and before Runtar could refuse, the other boy had snatched his basket and was filling it with the fallen goods.
"Thanks," Runtar said awkwardly. He wondered how he was supposed to act. It had been a while since he had last time socialised with anyone of his age.
"No problem!" Barnak said. He brushed his overly long brown hair from his eyes and smiled. He followed when Runtar started for home.
"I can take it from here," the smaller boy snapped in annoyance. He had only tripped! He didn't have to be watched over all the time!
Barnak blinked at that. "Huh? I was going this direction anyway. I'm Garean's apprentice," he said.
"Oh," Runtar said, feeling a little foolish. He thought he remembered his father mentioning something like that, but he hadn't paid it much thought. "So, you're working right next to my home?"
"Yeah. Working with metals is fun. I'm pretty clumsy, but Garean says it's only because I just started," Barnak said, again shoving his hair aside. Runtar wondered if it ever caught fire in the smithy.
They walked in silence. Runtar kept stealing glances at the other boy, wondering if he had any secondary motives. It had been a while since anybody had been nice to him, and it was hard to believe someone would want to make friends with him. He decided it was for the best if he didn't know, so he didn't ask.
"Okay, I must go. Garean is waiting for me. See you!" Barnak said after a while.
"Right," Runtar replied and headed home.
Barnak frowned to himself, then shrugged and entered the smithy. Garean was there, having already started to work on a blade for a sword.
"You're making friends with Runtar?" he asked, not turning around to face his apprentice.
"Hm, I guess so," Barnak replied. He went to take a broom started swiping the floor. Garean never let him touch the real work without his supervision.
"That's good. He doesn't have many friends," the blacksmith said.
"I know, but it's his own fault. He never comes out to play, so it's hard to find him. I wanted to learn to know him sooner, but he doesn't let anyone near him," Barnak said. "I don't think anyone else noticed, really," he added thoughtfully and paused his work for a while.
"He's weird," he decided then.
Brawnhilda was fuming. She stared out the window, high in the tower, and didn't even notice that she was chewing on her lip. It felt like her heart had been shut inside an iron cage, and she desperately wanted to break free.
I know I could do it, she thought to herself. She only lacked the courage. The mere idea of what Chadrik might do to Uncouthma chilled her blood and made her unable to raise a finger against the man.
She put her hand on her stomach and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Was it selfish of her to keep Uncouthma alive if it meant that her people would have to live under a foreign rule? The royal bloodline was secured, so they didn't really need Uncouthma anymore…
No. That wasn't true. Uncouthma was the only person who could rule the barbarians and help them get over this. Everyone looked up to him and was ready to die for his cause. The Prince represented the spirit of the people, and as long as he was alive, the barbarians would survive.
Not only that, but he was also her husband. Brawnhilda couldn't imagine a life without him. She wanted him to lie next to her, vulnerable after a hard battle. It was what she loved the most in him; that he could let his guard down near her and admit that even he wasn't invincible. She had never seen another Odiferian man do that.
"I have to be patient," she muttered to herself. "One way or another, I will free my people and my husband."
Her thoughts drifted back to the little man she had met earlier. She could remember that day in their past like it had just passed. It was the day when she had finally realised whom she loved and then almost lost him in the process.
If it had been up to her, she would have kicked the little traitor out of the country and be done with it, but Uncouthma had decided otherwise. He had no mean bone in his body and hadn't been able to send a childhood friend away, even after he had almost killed him.
Runtar would be trouble. She was sure of it. He was already worming his way into the enemy's favour and would do anything to remain there. Being a former advisor, he had knowledge on how Odiferous was ruled and what the people were like. The mere idea of Runtar selling his people made Brawnhilda want to throttle him.
She knew she couldn't get rid of him now. He was Chadrik's new advisor, so she had to be careful around him. One wrong move could mean harm to Uncouthma or her people. An unfortunate accident was always a possibility, but Brawnhilda didn't think twice about it. It was exactly the kind of plot Runtar was capable of, and she didn't want to be like the man she despised.
There was a knock on the door, and Sigyn entered. The maid had a tired look in her eyes, and her brown hair was unusually messy. She was carrying a plate of food and placed it in front of Brawnhilda.
"My lady, you have to eat," she said.
Brawnhilda knew that. She had the baby to think about, so she forced herself to take a slice of cheese.
"Do you have any news?" she asked. Though she didn't voice it, both women knew that she was asking about Uncouthma.
Sigyn shook her head. "Nothing. I haven't seen anyone apart from the kitchen staff and the enemy warriors. They are guarding the castle like they are afraid of someone taking over it."
"Hmm," Brawnhilda said. She was certain that there were barbarians who wanted to do that, but she hoped that they wouldn't do anything stupid. First they had to get Uncouthma out, then they could attack.
She didn't know where they were holding her husband. She suspected the cellars, but there were so many and some of them ancient and forgotten, so it was impossible to tell.
"What is Chadrik doing right now?" she asked. Maybe she could do a little sneaking around if the enemy was busy.
"I passed the throne room when I came. He's having a meeting with one of his generals," Sigyn said.
Brawnhilda almost smiled. "Good. This is my chance." She put the food away and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Sigyn asked with worry in her voice and eyes. She took a step towards the door, as if she was ready to stop her lady if she decided to do something stupid.
"I need to see Uncouthma. I have to know if he's alright," Brawnhilda said. She marched past her maid and started taking the stairs down the tower. Her fists were clenched in determination and the confident sound of her steps was like music to her ears. Finally, she was doing something.
"But there will be guards!" Sigyn exclaimed and rushed after her.
"I know, but they wouldn't dare hurt me without an order. I'll just ask them to show Uncouthma to me," Brawnhilda said. "My puddy-wuddy needs me."
A few guards glanced at her when she strolled past them, but nobody raised a finger to stop her. Or rather, that's how it was until she got to the doors that led to the cellars.
A tanned, bald warrior was standing there. Not a muscle on his face moved when he glanced at Brawnhilda.
"Nobody is allowed in," he stated.
"I want to see my husband," Brawnhilda said in a commanding tone.
"Nobody is allowed in," the guard repeated.
Brawnhilda was ready to grab the man by this throat and smash him against the wall. She knew she could do it. These foreigners were no real match for her in a fair battle. Being aware of this fact only made it worse. She could feel the anger and frustration bubble inside her and she had to bite her lip until it bled to stop herself from doing anything stupid.
"Step aside," she tried once more, but she already knew it wouldn't work. It was like she was a child again and trying to convince her father of something. There was no way she could ever get what she wanted, and at the same time she knew she would only get in trouble if she raised her hand.
With an angry growl, she turned on her heels and marched away. She wasn't going to give up, though. One way or another, she was going to find a way to save Uncouthma.
"Go to the city and find out what you can. I'll say I sent you to run errands for me. I want to speak to Gouda if you can find him," she said to Sigyn.
The maid nodded with a grim expression in her dark eyes. She, too, knew that something had to be done soon.
Daunus couldn't believe what he was hearing. What Chadrik was proposing was the stupidest thing anyone could do in this situation. Yet, he had no choice and had to follow every order, no matter how idiotic.
"Do you think that is wise?" he asked, praying that he might be able to pound some sense into the other man.
"There is nothing to worry about. My magic will make your journey back home safe," Chadrik replied.
"But my men will only listen to me. If something happens when I'm not here to lead them, we may lose everything," Daunus pointed out. The comment made Chadrik frown; the man obviously didn't like to be reminded of that it wasn't him who truly commanded the troops. In any other situation, Daunus would have kept that remark to himself, but this was getting too serious to his liking.
"We have yet to get this country under our control. The barbarians have rebellion in their eyes, and I am certain that some of them are already planning something in secret. Having me leave now would be a suicide," he continued.
Chadrik leaned back on the throne and let out a deep sigh. "I know," he said finally, "but what choice do I have? Time is running out; I must have this country under control fast so that I can show everyone! You of all people should understand that!" he snapped.
"I do," Daunus muttered. "I wouldn't have agreed to help if I didn't know I was doing the right thing, but… is it really worth it to risk everything, even your life?" he asked.
Chadrik ran his fingers through his hair and turned to look away. "It's worth more than that," he said.
"As you say," Daunus finally agreed. The plan was stupid, nothing would change his mind about that, but it was obvious that Chadrik wasn't about to give up. He almost snorted to himself at that.
Men in love had the tendency to be idiots.
Runtar was walking around the city deep in thought. Chadrik wanted him to plan and organize a huge party that would make the barbarians realise that a new ruler would be the beginning of something better. He had felt enthusiastic about the project at first, but now he was starting to realise how difficult it would be.
Every occasion the Odiferians celebrated, it involved food, drinking, and games of pure strength. Anything else would be boring for them. Organizing the kind of event that they liked would only remind them of their own culture and habits, but nothing else would impress them.
"They are pathetic. Does everything have to circle around brute strength around here?" he muttered to himself with a frown. He was truly starting to grow sick of the fact that a man could be nothing in Odiferous if he wasn't strong. To reflect that, the biggest idiots could reach incredible heights just for having enough muscles.
Like that Uncouthma. The man was nothing but a moronic clown who couldn't appreciate anything that wasn't able to win a wrestling match. If only his plan had worked last time, he would have shown the Prince…
He shook his head to himself to clear his thoughts. He couldn't afford losing focus right now. His new position depended on the outcome of this plan. If everything went well, he'd finally have the power and respect he had always wanted.
"Do you know where Gouda is?"
Runtar stopped on his tracks when he heard a whisper from somewhere in the crowd. He glanced around and soon saw a young woman who was talking quietly with someone. They hadn't noticed him yet.
Well, my size does come handy sometimes, Runtar thought as he crept closer. He knew Gouda hadn't been arrested and that the General was the biggest threat the barbarians possessed at the moment. Locating him and bringing him to Chadrik was exactly the kind of thing that would help him rise in ranks.
He eyed the young woman. She was slim for a barbarian and had braided her long brown hair. He thought he recognised her from somewhere, but pushed the thought aside. It wasn't important.
"I have a message from Brawnhilda," the woman was saying.
The other barbarian, a tall man Runtar identified as Tanrid, frowned and stroked his beard. "I'll show you where he is," he said finally. "But we have to be careful. We don't want the enemy finding out where we're hiding him."
"Of course," the woman said quickly.
The two of them looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention to them and then slipped behind a corner. Runtar followed as quickly as he could. The two barbarians were moving fast, but that was fine with him. He didn't want to catch them, only see where they were going, and this way they'd be less likely to notice him.
Seeing the expression on Gouda's face when he was exposed brought a smirk to Runtar's face. If there was someone in Odiferous he hated more than Uncouthma, it was the arrogant General. Gouda was even more obsessed with strength than the Prince and let everyone see what he thought of those who didn't meet his standards. Uncouthma at least had been civil with him sometimes, but Gouda had always made it obvious that he thought Runtar was a pathetic weakling who didn't deserve to be in the position of an advisor.
Not only that, but Runtar couldn't stand the fact that Gouda had such a high rank despite that he was nothing but a violent idiot. The man had no sense of strategy. Yet another reason why he despised the Odiferian society and way of thinking.
Suddenly, he noticed that Tanrid and the woman entered a building. At first he felt triumphant, but then he noticed that it was a tavern. Surely they wouldn't be holding Gouda in such an open and obvious place.
Curious, Runtar thought. He would have to investigate this.
"Runtar is following us," Sigyn whispered to the older man. Tanrid glanced behind his shoulder and nodded.
"He must have realised that we're going somewhere important. We have to distract him somehow," he said.
"How about we just stop him? He's no match for you," the woman suggested. Her irritated tone revealed how little patience she had for the little traitor. Tanrid agreed, but he had a little more sense than that.
"Then he would know that we're trying to hide something. Chadrik would have his men interrogating us in a minute. No, we have to make it seem like we aren't up to anything," he said.
"How?" Sigyn brushed a few loose strands of brown hair from her eyes and looked at the red-haired barbarian with questioning eyes.
"My son's tavern is close up, but he's not there are the moment. Let's go there and pretend that you're looking for him. When Runtar enters, we'll have someone keep him busy while we supposedly go to look for my son," Tanrid replied.
Sigyn didn't look convinced, but didn't argue. It was a trait Tanrid appreciated in women and for a moment he wished that she really was trying to find his son. Maybe he'd have him court her once they had restored order in Odiferous.
They entered the tavern and instantly Tanrid spotted the right man for their purpose. One of his old friends was sitting in the corner, sipping his ale with a grim scowl on his face and stroking his grey beard absent-mindedly. He was one of the unlucky ones and had not one but two sons in prison after the battle. He also knew about Gouda, so it was safe to trust him.
"Hey, do you want to help us a little?" Tanrid asked.
The old barbarian glanced at them, mostly at Sigyn, and grinned. "Why, Tanrid, I didn't know you still had it in you. Does your wife know?" he joked. Then he saw the serious expressions on the duo's faces and stopped with a cough.
"We're going to see Gouda, but we think we're being followed," Tanrid said.
"By the enemy?" Ulof, the older barbarian, asked.
"Worse. A traitor."
Nothing else had to be said. Everyone knew how Runtar had betrayed Uncouthma's trust.
"Don't tell me he's conspiring with them," Ulof said, but one glance at Tanrid was enough of a reply. He sighed. "Good thing Osred is not alive to see this."
"True, but we have no time for that. You have to help us. When Runtar comes in, corner him and start asking him about your sons in prison. Keep him busy for at least fifteen minutes. That should give us enough time to go to Gouda unnoticed," Tanrid said.
Ulof nodded. "I'll do it," he said.
Tanrid and Sigyn positioned themselves close to the door so that they would be able to slip back outside when Runtar wasn't looking. After a few minutes, the small man appeared and stopped at the door to glance around. He didn't look too comfortable being there, and Tanrid couldn't really blame him. Everyone had noticed the traitor was around, but they mostly turned their backs on him or glared at him with the kind of hatred that it was a wonder Runtar didn't turn on his heels and run outside.
True to his word, Ulof walked over to Runtar. "Hey, Runtar! You're just the person I wanted to see!" he bellowed.
Surprise and shock were expressions not often seen on Runtar's face, but now Tanrid had the pleasure of viewing it.
"I am?" Runtar asked, as if nobody had ever sought his company on purpose.
"Yes! Come over here so that I can buy you some ale! Then we'll talk!" Ulof said.
"Err… thanks, but I'm rather busy. Maybe some other time," Runtar said and started to back away, but the other barbarian quickly grabbed him and pushed him down on a chair with ease. It was like watching a grown man handle a doll.
"Nonsense! There's always time for a drink!"
With Runtar occupied with Ulof, Tanrid and Sigyn slipped out the door and hurried down the street. They slowed down only when they were sure they were a good distance away from the tavern and nobody was following them.
"It's a good think Ulof was there," Sigyn sighed with relief.
"True. He's a great actor. I almost believed he was happy to see Runtar."
They reached the building where Gouda was hiding and entered. It was small and on the edges of the city where there weren't that many enemy warriors. It was safe to hide someone there.
"What is it?" Gouda asked when they entered. He was lying down on the bed, but it looked like it was the most uncomfortable thing in the world. The warrior's muscles were tense, his face covered in a scowl, his voice clearly irritated and even his blond hair looked like it was withering. Gouda acted and looked like a caged wild animal.
"Sigyn is Brawnhilda's maid. She brings a message from the castle," Tanrid explained.
At once, Gouda tried to sit up and managed to do so, though it took a great deal of effort and was obviously painful. Still, he didn't complain but turned the stare of his piercing eyes to the young woman.
"What does she say?" he asked.
"Brawnhilda is worried that you may try to drive the enemy out of Odiferous. She knows you're a brave warrior and expects no less. However, she will only give her blessing to these plans if Uncouthma is freed first. If anything is attempted before and it results in harm being done to Uncouthma, she will make sure that every barbarian involved will be punished," Sigyn said.
Gouda obviously wasn't very happy to hear this, but Tanrid was relieved. Just like Antav, he didn't think a direct attack would accomplish much. Saying that to the hot-headed Gouda, however, had been a task neither of them had fancied tackling.
"Women are weak fools," the General muttered, but Tanrid was certain that he would follow Brawnhilda's command. No punishment she could inflict could be worse than disobeying the rulers' word and betraying their trust.
"Our next task is therefore freeing Uncouthma," Tanrid stated.
Gouda nodded to that. "You can go back to Brawnhilda and tell her that we will first release Uncouthma and then follow him in battle," he said, addressing Sigyn.
The maid nodded with a relieved smile on her face. "Brawnhilda will be happy to hear that, General."
Runtar stepped out of the tavern with only a slightly noticeable stammer. He hadn't meant to drink at all, but Ulof had been very persistent and hadn't given him much of a chance. Unfortunately for him, even small amounts of alcohol usually had an effect on him due to his size.
It had turned out that Ulof had only wanted information about his two sons, both of whom Runtar had met in prison. In fact, Ulof's younger son was Sighard, the former prison guard. He had told the old man what he knew, merely because he wanted to get away from him as soon as possible, not because he actually cared.
He didn't know if the man had distracted him on purpose, but one thing was for sure. Ulof hadn't really been that happy to see him. It was just an act to learn more about his sons. Runtar was too much of a sceptic to believe for a second that someone might still like him, especially after he had tried to murder Uncouthma.
"Hello, Zebu," he greeted his yak when he got inside. He let the animal live inside with him most of the time. Zebu was so small and the house was more than enough for the both of them.
"Moo!" Zebu said happily from his corner.
It wasn't late and Runtar didn't feel like going upstairs just yet, so he sat down in front of the empty fireplace for a while. His day had been completely wasted. He hadn't developed his plans at all and had instead been forced to listen to someone lie to his face about how nice it was to see him.
Still, Ulof's behaviour back in the tavern had been the friendliest way anyone had treated him for as long as he could remember. Had he been a little more naïve, he might have wanted to pretend that he actually had a friend.
To be continued…