Wulf the Eternal Warrior

Few enough were left indeed of the Iceni, but they were enough to help Wulf and their queen gather up large quantities of arms, both sword and bow, along with many gleaming jewels, along with gold and silver coins. Wrapping them all up in their cloaks, the Iceni and their ally from the north staggered forth from the temple, and into the main square of Brittania.

From there, seeing a small wagon, they put some therein, and pulled and carried it all down through the deserted, flaming square, and finally out through the unguarded gate. The dragon was visible, on the north end of the city, despoiling that area of citizens, now that the center and south end were empty of life. Screams echoed all about, as Romans and romanized Britons were consumed in flames, or crushed in their houses and barracks as buildings collapsed under burning timbers. And overall loomed the horrific winged shape of the hovering dragon- breathing flame and destruction, turning Roman notions of order into the detritus of flaming destruction.

Finally emerging from the city, appeared Crispus, the germanized Roman who was the ally of Wulf-

“My lord,” he said. “I hoped against hope that you would survive, after the flames…”

“Never mind, Crispus- we’ve got what we came for- help these Iceni carry the gold and arms from the wagon, and we will go forth to a place of safety near the channel of the sea. “That damned Lucius had better be waiting!”

And so they all set forth, the wagon bumping along with its heavy load, and the barbarians, both Iceni and Allemani, also laboring heavily beneath their loads of arms, and coin.

Boudica approached Wulf as the tribesmen lumbered onwards, regarding him with a look of infatuation, if not love itself. “My prince,” she said, coming close to him, “I would you were Iceni! A man like you, of the ice and snow, would be a fit paramour for a barbarian queen…”

Wulf put his arms about her, and drew her close. For an instant they held, and then she pulled away. “Alas- it cannot be- you are an outlander!” With which saying, at a nod to one of her men behind the barbarian, he struck Wulf down across his helm with the flat of an Iceni sword. Simultaneously, another did the same to Crispus!

He who had struck the barbarian, raised his sword again to end his life, but Boudica held his arm. “He has aided our tribe, and we owe him his life, at the least.” The Iceni warrior reluctantly drew back his sword, and left the two men crumpled on the sward.

Then, with a somewhat rueful glance back at the prone form of Wulf of the Aleminni, lying near his compatriot on the grass, she ordered her warriors to quickly take all the coins and armor, and head back to their tribal homeland, many miles away. The Romans would suffer, now that the Iceni were armed- and that was all that really mattered, she rationalized.

Towards dawn, Wulf awoke to find one of the Alemanni that he had left waiting for him at the sea’s edge cradling his aching head, and offering him wine. Of course his head pounded, and he saw that Crispus was in a similar condition, and being revived by another tribesman.

Consciousness restored, he got to his feet. “Men of the Alemanni, a hard blow we have dealt to the Romans here, one from which they may never recover! So, do not worry- let us return to our homeland to fight another day!”

Lucius the boatman was indeed waiting, and upon receiving the remainder of the promised gold coins, all of the Alemanni set sail for the first leg of their homeward journey.

The men seemed dispirited as they headed back across the waves- after all, where were the arms and gold they had come for? Certainly, the hard blows dealt against the Romans by the dragon which they had seen as they waited were wondrous, but how were they to continue their own warfare back in their homeland of Germania without more arms and funding? Wulf watched the men dispassionately, but seemed cheerful nonetheless. Had that Iceni blow to his head addled his wits, some wondered?

After they had debarked, and Lucius the fisherman had sailed away again, they headed into the shelter of the deep woods of Germania. Once there, Wulf laughed with gusto, and said:

“When we are once more at home, I will shower you all with wine and ale, and we will buy weapons aplenty! This is a great day for the Alemanni!” he shouted gustily.

And, by way of demonstration, he took a good-sized leathern bag from his girdle, upending it. Glittering, showering gems of starlight and rainbow rained down onto his upraised palms. and more further spilled onto the forest floor.

“I wish the blue queen well in her war on the Romans, with her gold and swords. But, as for US- he indicated the jewels that continued their glittering cascade downwards with a huge smile- with this, we can buy ARMIES!”

And he laughed- a deep, gusty laugh; a guileless rumbling such as has echoed throughout the ages.