In spite of all this, it was said by the Romans that the Goths would long since have climbed the walls, had it not been for the Prefect's "Egeria."
For, strange to say, each time the barbarians prepared an assault, Cethegus went to Belisarius and warned him of the day and hour.
Whenever Teja or Hildebad attempted to carry a gate by storm or sweep away a redoubt--Cethegus foretold their coming, and the assaulters met with double the usual number of defenders at that particular point.
Whenever the chains across the Tiber were to be broken in a night surprise--Cethegus seemed to have guessed it, and sent fire-brands and fire-ships against the boats of the enemy.
So passed many months.
The Goths could not hide from themselves the fact that, in spite of continual assaults, they had made no progress since the commencement of the siege.
For a long time they bore with patience the betrayal and frustration of their plans.
But by degrees discontent not only began to spread in the army, especially as now the scarcity of provisions made itself felt, but also the King's mind was darkened with deep melancholy when he found all his strength, perseverance, and military science rendered vain. And when he returned to his royal tent from some thwarted undertaking, some abortive assault, the haughty eyes of his Queen rested on him with a mysterious and terrible expression, from which he turned away with a shudder.
"All has happened as I foretold," Witichis said gloomily to Teja; "with Rauthgundis my good-fortune has forsaken me, as joy has forsaken my heart. It is if a curse rested upon my crown. And this daughter of the Amelungs, silent and gloomy, follows me like misfortune personified."
"Thou mayst be right," answered Teja; "perhaps I can break the spell. Grant me leave of absence to-night."
On the same day, almost at the same hour, Johannes, in Rome, asked Belisarius for leave of absence for that night. Belisarius refused to grant it.
"It is no time for midnight pleasures," said he.
"It will be small pleasure to spy amongst damp old walls and Gothic lances for a fox who is ten times slyer than either of us."
"What do you think of doing?" asked Belisarius, becoming attentive.
"What do I intend to do? To make an end of the cursed position in which we are all placed, and you, O General, not the least. All goes well. For months the barbarians have been encamped before these walls, and have accomplished nothing. We shoot them as easily as boys shoot crows from behind a hedge, and can laugh at them and all their efforts. But who has accomplished all this? Not, as would be right, you, the Emperor's commander-in-chief, not the Emperor's army, but this icy Roman, who can only laugh when he scoffs. He sits up there in the Capitol and mocks at the Emperor, the Goths and us, and most of all, give me leave to say, at you. How does this Ulysses and Ajax in one person know so exactly all the plans of the Goths? By means of his demons, say some. Through his Egeria, say others. And some maintain that he has a raven which can speak and understand like a human being, and that he sends it every night into the Gothic camp. Old women and Romans may believe such things, but not the son of my mother! I think I know both the raven and the demons. It is certain that the Prefect can only learn what he knows in the Gothic camp; let us see if we cannot use that source as well as he."
"I thought of this long since, but I saw no possibility of carrying out my idea."
"My Huns have watched all the Prefect's movements. It is cursedly difficult, for his brown Moor follows him like his shadow. But sometimes Syphax is absent for days together, and then it is easier: so I have found out that Cethegus often leaves the city at night, sometimes by the Gate of Portuensis, sometimes by the Gate of St. Paul. He commands the guard of both these gates. Farther my spies dared not follow him. But to-night--for to-night the time has come again--I have a mind to stick to his heels. But I must wait for himoutsidethe gate, for his Isaurians would never let me pass. I shall make a round of the walls, and remain behind in one of the trenches."
"'Tis well. But, as you say, there are two gates to be watched."
"Yes; and so I have engaged Perseus, my brother, to be my fellow-spy. He will watch the Gate of St. Paul, I the Portuensian Gate. You may depend upon it, that before sunrise to-morrow one or other of us will know who is the Prefect's Egeria."
Exactly opposite the Gate of St. Paul, at about three arrow-shots, distance from the outermost trench of the city, lay a large and ancient building, the Basilica Sancti Pauli extra muros, or St. Paul's outside the walls, which only completely disappeared at the time of the siege of Rome by the Connétable of Bourbon.
Originally a temple dedicated to Jupiter Stator, it had been consecrated to the Apostle two centuries before the time of which we speak, but the bronze colossal statue of the bearded god still stood erect; only the flaming thunderbolts had been taken from its right hand, and a crucifix put in their place; otherwise the sturdy and bearded figure was well suited to its new name.
It was the sixth hour of the night.
The moon shone brightly above the Eternal City, and shed her silver light upon the battlements and the plain between the Roman ramparts and the Basilica, the black shadow of which fell towards the Gothic camp.
The guard at the Gate of St. Paul had just been relieved. But seven men had gone out, and only six re-entered.
The seventh turned his back to the gate and walked out into the open field.
Cautiously he chose his path: cautiously he avoided the numerous steel-traps, covered pits and self-shooting poisoned arrows which were strewn everywhere about, and which had already brought destruction to many a Goth while assaulting the city.
This man appeared to know them all, and easily avoided them. He also carefully shunned the moonlight, seeking the shade of the jutting bastions, and springing from one tree to another.
After crossing the outermost trench, he remained standing in the shadow of a cypress, the boughs of which, had been shattered by a catapult, and looked about him.
He could see nothing far and near, and at once hurried with rapid steps towards the church.
Had he looked round once more, he surely would not have done so.
For, as soon as he left the tree, a second figure rose from the trench, and reached the shade of the cypress in three leaps.
"I have won, Johannes! This time fortune favours the younger brother!" said this personage.
And he cautiously followed the man, who was rapidly walking on.
But suddenly he lost sight of him; it seemed as if the earth had swallowed him up.
And when he had reached the outer wall of the church, where the man had disappeared, the Armenian (for it was Perseus) could discover neither door nor any other opening.
"No doubt about it," he said to himself, "the appointment has been made within the temple. I must follow."
But at that place the wall could not be climbed.
The spy turned a corner, feeling the stones.
In vain. The wall was of the same height everywhere.
He lost about a quarter of an hour in this search.
At last he found a gap; with difficulty he squeezed himself through.
And now he found himself in the outer court of the old temple, across which the thick Doric columns threw broad shadows, under cover of which he succeeded in reaching the centre and principal building.
He peeped through a chink in the wall, which a current of air had betrayed to him. Within all was dark.
But suddenly he was blinded by a dazzling light.
When he again opened his eyes, he saw a bright stripe amid the darkness; it issued from a dark lantern, the light of which had been suddenly uncovered.
He could distinctly see whatever stood in the line of light; but not the bearer of the lantern.
He saw Cethegus the Prefect, who stood close to the statue of the Apostle, and appeared to be leaning against it. In front of him stood a second form, that of a slender woman, upon whose auburn hair fell the glittering light of the lantern.
"The lovely Queen of the Goths, by Eros and Anteros!" said the spy to himself. "No disagreeable meeting, be it for love or politics! Hark! she speaks. What a pity that I came too late to hear the beginning of the conversation!"
"Therefore, mark well," he heard the Queen say, "the day after to-morrow some great danger is planned to take place on the road before the Tiburtinian Gate."
"Good; but what!" asked the voice of the Prefect.
"I could learn nothing more exactly. And I can communicate nothing more to you, even if I should hear anything. I dare not meet you here again, for----"
She now spoke in a lower tone.
Perseus pressed his ear hard against the chink; his sword rattled against the stone, and immediately a ray of the lantern fell upon him.
"Hark!" cried a third voice--it was a female voice, that of the bearer of the lantern, who now showed herself in its rays as she quickly turned in the direction of the wall where stood the spy.
Perseus recognised a slave in Moorish costume.
For one moment all in the temple were silent.
Perseus held his breath. He felt that his life was at stake. For Cethegus grasped his sword.
"All is quiet," said the slave; "it must have been a stone falling on the iron-work outside."
"I can also go no more into the grave outside the Portuensian Gate. I fear that we have been followed."
"By whom?"
"By one who, as it seems, never sleeps--Earl Teja."
The Prefect's lips twitched.
"And he is also one of a secret company who have sworn an oath against the life of Belisarius; the attack on the Gate of St. Paul will be only a feint."
"'Tis well," said Cethegus reflectively.
"Belisarius could never escape, if he were not warned," continued the Queen. "They lie somewhere, I fear--but I do not know where--in ambush. They have a superior force, Earl Totila commands them."
"I will take care to warn him!" said Cethegus slowly.
"If the plan should succeed!"
"Be not anxious. Queen. Rome is not less dear to me than to you. And if the next assault fail--they must renounce the siege, be they never so tough. And this Queen, is your doing. Let me this night--perhaps the last on which we meet--reveal to you my wonder and admiration. Cethegus does not easily admire, and where he must, he does not easily confess it. But--I admire you, Queen! With what death-despising temerity, with what demoniac cunning you have frustrated all the plots of the barbarians! Truly, Belisarius has done much--Cethegus more--but Mataswintha most."
"Would that you spoke truth!" said Mataswintha with sparkling eyes. "And if the crown falls from the head of this culprit----"
"It isyourhand which has decided the fate of Rome. But, Queen, you cannot be satisfied with this alone. I have learned to know you these last few months--you must not be taken, a conquered Gothic Queen, to Byzantium. Such beauty, such a mind, such force of will must rule, and not serve, in Byzantium. Therefore reflect--when your tyrant is overthrown--will you not then follow the course which I have pointed out to you?"
"I have never yet thought of what will follow," she answered gloomily.
"But I have thought for you. Truly, Mataswintha"--and his eyes rested upon her with fervent admiration--"you are marvellously beautiful. I consider it as my greatest merit that even your beauty is not able to kindle my passions and seduce me from my plans. But you are too beautiful, too charming, to live alone for hatred and revenge. When our aim is reached, then to Byzantium! You will then be more than Empress--you will be the vanquisher of the Empress!"
"When my aim is reached, my life is completed. Do you think I could bear the thought of having destroyed my people for mere ambition, for prudent ends? No--I did it only because I could no other. Revenge is now all to me, and----"
Just then there sounded loud and shrill from the front of the building, but yet within the walls, the cry of the screech-owl; once--twice--in rapid succession.
How amazed was Perseus to see the Prefect hurriedly press his finger upon the throat of the statue against which he was leaning, and to see it immediately and noiselessly divide into two parts.
Cethegus slipped, into the opening, which slowly closed again.
Mataswintha and Aspa sank upon the steps of the altar, as if in prayer.
"So it was a signal! Danger is near," thought the spy. "But where is the danger? and where the warner?"
And he turned and stepped from beneath the wall, looking to the left, on which side the Gothic camp was situated.
But in doing so he stepped into the moonlight, and in sight of Syphax, the Moor, who stood in an empty niche before the entrance of the building, and who, until now, had also been looking sharply in the direction of the camp.
From thence a man walked slowly forward.
His battle-axe glittered in the moonlight.
But Perseus saw a second weapon flash; it was the sword of the Moor, as he softly drew it from its sheath.
"Ha!" laughed Perseus; "before those two have done with each other, I shall be in Rome with my secret."
And he ran towards the gap in the wall of the court by which he had entered.
For a moment Syphax looked doubtfully to right and left. To the right he saw a man escaping, whom he had only now discovered; to the left a Gothic warrior, who was just entering the court of the temple. It was impossible to reach and kill both.
He suddenly called aloud:
"Teja, Earl Teja! Help, help! A Roman! Save the Queen! There, near the wall on the right--a Roman!"
In a moment Teja stood at Syphax's side.
"There!" cried Syphax. "I will protect the women in the church!" and he rushed into the temple.
"Stand, Roman!" cried Teja, and rushed after Perseus.
But Perseus would not stand. He ran along the wall; he reached the gap, but in his hurry he could not force himself through. With the strength of despair he swung himself up upon the wall, and was already drawing up his feet to jump down on the other side, when Teja cast his battle-axe, and struck him on the head.
Perseus, together with his secret, fell back dead.
Teja bent over him; he could distinctly see the features of the dead man.
"The Archon Perseus," he said, "the brother of Johannes."
He left the corpse, and at once ascended the steps which led into the church.
On the threshold he was met by Mataswintha. Behind her came Syphax, and Aspa with the lantern.
For a moment Teja and Mataswintha measured each other with distrustful looks.
"I must thank thee, Earl Teja of Tarentum," at last the Princess said. "I was in danger while pursuing my lonely devotions."
"A strange place and time for thee to choose for thy prayers. Let us see if this Roman was the only enemy."
He took the light from Aspa's hand, and went into the chapel.
Presently he returned, a leathern shoe, inlaid with gold, in his hand.
"I found nothing--but this sandal by the altar, close to the statue of the Apostle. It is a man's shoe."
"A votive offering of mine," said Syphax quickly. "The Apostle healed my foot, which a thorn had wounded."
"I thought the Snake-god was thine only god?"
"I worship whatever can help me."
"In which foot did the thorn wound thee?"
For a moment Syphax hesitated.
"In the right foot," he then answered.
"It is a pity," said Teja, "the sandal is for the left foot." And he put it into his belt. "I warn thee, Queen, against such midnight devotions."
"I shall do my duty," answered Mataswintha harshly.
"And I mine!"
With these words Teja turned, and led the way to the camp. Silently the Queen and her slaves followed.
At sunrise Teja stood before the King and told him everything.
"What thou sayest is no proof," said Witichis.
"But a strong cause of suspicion. And thou thyself hast told me that the conduct of the Queen was mysterious."
"Just for that reason I must guard myself against acting on mere suspicion. I often fear that we have acted wrongly by her, almost as much so as by Rauthgundis."
"Possibly. But these midnight walks?"
"I shall put an end to them, were it only for her own sake."
"And the Moor? I mistrust him. I know that he is often absent for days together; afterwards appearing again in the camp. He is a spy."
"Yes, friend," said Witichis, with a smile; "but he is my spy. He goes in and out of Rome with my knowledge. It is he who betrays all their plans to me."
"And yet it has done no good? And the false sandal?"
"It is really a votive offering. Before thou camest, Syphax confessed all to me. Once, as he was waiting for the Queen, he got weary, and began to rummage in a vault of the church; and there he found, amongst all sorts of things, some priestly garments and hidden treasures, which he stole. Later, fearing the wrath of the saint, he wished to atone, and offered up in his heathen manner this golden sandal from his booty. He described it to me exactly. With golden side-stripes, and an agate button engraved with the letter C. Thou seest that it is so. Therefore he knew it well, and it cannot have been dropped by a fugitive. He has promised to bring the fellow-shoe as a proof. But, more than all, he has discovered to me a new plan, which will put an end to all our trouble, and deliver Belisarius himself into our hands."
While the King of the Goths communicated this plan to his friends, Cethegus, in the early morning, was summoned to speak with Belisarius and Johannes.
"Prefect of Rome," cried the general in a severe tone, as Cethegus entered his quarters, "where were you last night?"
"At my post, as was my duty. At the Gate of St. Paul."
"Do you know that, last night, one of my best leaders, Perseus the archon and the brother of Johannes here, left the city and has not been seen since?"
"I am sorry for it. But you know that it is forbidden to leave the walls without permission."
"But I have reason to believe," interposed Johannes, "that you very well know what has become of my brother; that his blood is on your hands."
"And by the slumber of Justinian," cried Belisarius angrily, "you shall answer for it! You shall no longer tyrannise over the Emperor's army and the Emperor's generals. The hour of reckoning has come. The barbarians are almost defeated, and we shall see if, whenyourhead falls, the Capitol will still stand!"
"Do matters stand thus?" thought Cethegus. "Then take care, Belisarius!" But he remained silent.
"Speak!" cried Johannes; "where did you kill my brother?"
But before Cethegus could reply, Artasines, one of Belisarius's body-guards, entered the room.
"Sir," he said, "outside are six Gothic warriors. They have brought the corpse of Perseus the archon. King Witichis sends you word that Perseus fell last night without the walls, struck by Earl Teja's axe. He sends the body, that you may inter it with all honour."
"Heaven itself," said Cethegus, as he left the room with haughty steps, "gives the lie to your malice!"
But slowly and reflectively he passed the Quirinal and went across the Forum of Trajan to his dwelling.
"You threaten, Belisarius? Thanks for the hint! Let us see if we cannot do without you!"
Arrived at his house, he found Syphax, who had been waiting for him impatiently.
Syphax quickly made his report, and concluded:
"But first of all, sir, let the slaves who tie your sandals be whipped! You see how badly you are served when Syphax is absent. And be so kind as to give me your right shoe."
"Properly I should refuse to do so, and let you remain in suspense, to punish you for your impudent lies," laughed the Prefect. "This piece of leather is worth your life, my panther! How will you ransom it?"
"With important news. I now know all the particulars of the plan against the life of Belisarius; the place and time, and the names of the confederates. They are--Teja, Totila, and Hildebad."
"Each one of whom is a match for the magister militum," remarked Cethegus, with evident pleasure.
"I think, sir, that you have prepared another nice trap for the barbarians! According to your order, I have told them that Belisarius himself will sally out from the Tiburtinian Gate to-morrow, in order to forage for supplies."
"Yes; he goes himself because the Huns, who have so often been beaten, will not again venture out alone. He will take only four hundred men."
"And the three confederates will place an ambush of a thousand men in order to surprise Belisarius."
"This news is really worth the shoe!" said Cethegus, and threw it to Syphax.
"Meanwhile King Witichis will make a feigned assault upon the Gate of St. Paul, in order to divert attention from Belisarius. So I will now hasten to the latter, as you ordered, and tell him to take three thousand men with him, and destroy the confederates and their band."
"Stop," said Cethegus quietly; "do not be in such a hurry. You will tell him nothing."
"What?" asked Syphax in surprise. "If he be not warned, he will be lost!"
"One must not always interfere with the commander's guardian angel. To-morrow Belisarius may prove his good fortune."
"Aye, aye," said Syphax, with a cunning smile, "is such your pleasure? Then I would rather be Syphax the slave than Belisarius the magister militum. Poor widowed Antonina!"
Cethegus was just about to stretch himself upon his couch for a short rest, when Fidus, the ostiarius, announced:
"Kallistratos, of Corinth!"
"Always welcome!"
The young Greek with the gentle countenance entered. A flush of shame or pleasure coloured his cheeks; it was evident that some special cause had led him to the Prefect.
"What of beauty do you bring besides yourself?" asked Cethegus in the Grecian tongue.
The Greek looked up with sparkling eyes.
"A heart full of admiration for you, and the wish to prove it to you. I beg for permission to fight for you and Rome, like the two Licinii and Piso."
"My Kallistratos! What have you, our peaceful guest, the most amiable of Greeks, to do with our bloody business with the Goths? Leave such hard work alone, and cherish your bright inheritance--beauty!"
"I know well that the days of Salamis have become a myth, and that you iron Romans have never believed in our strength. That is hard; but yet it is easier to bear, because it is you who defend our world of art and noble customs against the dull barbarians; you--that is, Rome, and to me Cethegus is Rome. As such, I understand this struggle, and, understanding it thus, you see that it also concerns the Hellenes."
The Prefect smiled with pleasure.
"Well, if to you Cethegus is Rome, then Rome gladly accepts the help of the Hellenes. Henceforward you are a tribune of the Milites Romani, like Licinius."
"My deeds shall thank you. But I must confess one thing more; for I know that you do not love to be surprised. I have often seen how dear to you is the Mausoleum of Hadrian, with its treasure of statues. Lately I counted these marble gods, and found that there were two hundred and ninety-eight. I have made the third hundred complete by placing amongst them my two Letoides, Apollo and Artemis, which you praised so highly. They are a votive offering to you and Rome."
"Dear, extravagant youth!" said Cethegus. "What have you done?"
"That which is right and beautiful," answered Kallistratos simply.
"But reflect; the Mausoleum is now a fortress. If the Goths storm----"
"The Letoides stand upon the second and inner wall; and how can I fear that the barbarians will ever again conquer the favourite place of Cethegus? Where can the beauteous gods be more secure than in your citadel? Your fortress is their best, because safest, temple. My offering shall be at the same time a happy omen."
"It shall!" cried Cethegus with animation. "And I myself believe that your gift is well protected. But allow me, in return----"
"In return you have allowed me to fight for you. Chaire!" laughed the Greek, and was gone.
"The boy loves me dearly," said Cethegus. "And I am like other human fools--it does me good; and that not merely because I can thereby rule him."
Heavy footsteps were now heard upon the marble of the vestibule, and a tribune of the army entered.
It was a young Roman with noble features, but of a graver expression than his years warranted. His cheek-bones made a right angle with his straight and severe brow, in true Roman outline; in the deep-sunk eyes lay Roman strength and--at this moment--resolute earnestness, and a self-will regardless of all but itself.
"Aha! Severinus, son of Boëthius! Welcome, my young hero and philosopher! I have not seen you for many months. Whence come you?"
"From the grave of my mother!" answered Severinus, with a fixed look at the questioner.
Cethegus sprang from his seat.
"What! Rusticiana? The friend of my youth? The wife of my Boëthius?"
"She is dead," said the son shortly.
The Prefect would have taken his hand, but Severinus withdrew it.
"My son! my poor Severinus! And did she die--without a word for me?"
"I bring you her last words--they concern you!"
"How did she die? Of what illness?"
"Of grief and remorse."
"Grief!" sighed Cethegus; "that I understand. But why should she feel remorse? And her last word was for me? Tell me, what did she say?"
Severinus approached the Prefect so closely that he touched his knee, and looking piercingly into his eyes, he answered:
"She said, 'A curse, a curse upon Cethegus, who poisoned my child!"
Cethegus looked at him quietly.
"Did she die delirious?" he coldly asked.
"No, murderer! Her delirium was to trust in you! In the hour of her death she confessed to Cassiodorus and to me that it was her hand which administered the poison--with which you had furnished her--to the young tyrant. She told us all the circumstances. She was supported as she spoke by old Corbulo and his daughter, Daphnidion. 'Too late I learned,' she concluded, 'that my child had drunk of the deadly cup. And there was no one to hold Camilla's hand as she took it; for I was still in the boat upon the sea, and Cethegus was in the plantain-alley.' Then old Corbulo called out, turning pale, 'What! did the Prefect know that the cup contained poison?' 'Certainly,' answered my mother; 'for, as I left the garden, I had told him that the deed was done.' Corbulo was dumb with horror; but Daphnidion cried out in violent grief, 'Alas! my poor mistress! Then Cethegus murdered your child; for he stood near, close to me, and watched her drink.' 'He watched her drink?' asked my mother, in a voice which will ring in my ears for ever. 'He watched her as she drank,' repeated the freedman and his daughter. 'Oh! then may his cursed soul be delivered to the devils in hell!' cried my mother. 'Revenge, O God! revenge hereafter! Revenge upon earth, my sons, for Camilla! A curse upon Cethegus!' And she fell back and expired."
The Prefect preserved his composure. But he secretly grasped the dagger which was hidden in the breast-folds of his tunic.
"But you," he asked after a pause, "what did you do?"
"I knelt down by the corpse of my mother and kissed her cold hand. And I swore to fulfil her dying behest. Woe to you, Prefect of Rome, poisoner and murderer of my sister! You shall not live!"
"Son of Boëthius, will you become a murderer for the mad words of a stupid slave and his daughter? It would be worthy of a hero and a philosopher."
"I do not think of murder. If I were a German, I should, according to their barbaric custom--and just now I think it excellent--challenge you to mortal combat. But I am a Roman, and will lawfully seek my revenge. Take care. Prefect, there are still just judges in Italy. For many months the enemy has prevented me from reaching the city. I only arrived here to-day by sea, and to-morrow I shall accuse you before the Senate, who will be your judges. Then we shall meet again."
Cethegus suddenly placed himself between the youth and the door.
But Severinus cried:
"Softly! I am prudent where a murderer is concerned. Three of my friends accompanied me to your house. If I do not return immediately, they will come with the lictors to search for me."
"I only wish," said Cethegus, again fully composed, "to warn you against a shameful course. If you like to prosecute the oldest friend of your family, in consequence of the feverish words of a dying woman, then do so; I cannot prevent you. But first a commission. You will become my accuser, but you still remain a soldier and my tribune. You will obey when your general commands."
"I shall obey."
"To-morrow Belisarius will make a sally, and the barbarians intend to attack one of the gates. I must protect the city. But I fear danger for the lion-hearted Belisarius. I must be sure that he is faithfully guarded. Therefore I order you to accompany the general to-morrow, and to defend his life with your own."
"With mine own."
"'Tis good, tribune, I depend upon your word."
"Depend upon my first word too! Farewell, till we meet again, after the fight, before the Senate. With what ardour do I long for both contests! Farewell--until we meet in the Senate!"
"We shall never meet again!" said Cethegus, as the steps of his visitor died away. "Syphax!" he called aloud, "bring wine and dinner. We must strengthen ourselves for to-morrow's work!"
Early next morning Rome and the Gothic encampment were equally full of life and movement.
Mataswintha and Syphax had learned somewhat, and had imparted it to Cethegus; but they had not known all.
They had heard of the plot of the three Goths against the life of Belisarius, and of the earlier plan of a sham assault upon the Gate of St. Paul.
But they had not heard that the King, changing his plan, had determined to take advantage of the absence of the great general, in order to try if Gothic heroism were not yet able to conquer the fortifications and the genius of Belisarius.
In the council of war, no one had deceived himself as to the importance and risk of the undertaking upon which they had determined; for if, like all former ones--and Procopius had already counted sixty battles, sallies, assaults and skirmishes--this last attempt failed, no further exertion could be demanded from the harassed and greatly diminished army.
For this reason they had, at Teja's advice, taken an oath to keep their plan a profound secret, and thus Mataswintha had learned nothing from the King.
Even the keen senses of the Moor had been unable to scent out that anything of importance was in preparation for that day--the Gothic troops themselves knew not what.
Totila, Hildebad, and Teja had started with their horsemen during the night, and had placed themselves in ambush on the south of the Valerian Way, in a hollow near the tomb of the Fulvias, through which Belisarius would necessarily pass. They hoped to have finished their task soon enough to be able to take an important part in the events which were impending against the city.
While the King, with Hildebrand, Guntharis, and Markja, was mustering the troops within the camp, Belisarius marched at daybreak out of the Tiburtinian Gate, surrounded by part of his body-guard.
Procopius and Severinus rode on his right and left; Aigan, the Massagetian, bore his banner, which accompanied the magister militum on all occasions.
Constantinus, to whom he had entrusted the care of the "Belisarian" part of Rome during his absence, doubled all the posts along the walls, and placed his troops under arms close to the ramparts. He sent word to the Prefect to do the same with the Byzantines under his command.
His messenger met Cethegus upon the walls between the Appian Gate and the Gate of St. Paul.
"So Belisarius thinks," said Cethegus sarcastically, as he obeyed the order, "that Rome cannot be safe unless he guard it! But I think that Belisarius would be in evil plight, had I not protected my Rome. Come, Lucius Licinius," he whispered to the latter, "we must decide upon what we must do should Belisarius fail to return from his ride. In that case, a firm hand must be laid upon the Byzantine army."
"I know whose hand will do it."
"It may perhaps lead to a short struggle with those of the body-guard still in Rome; either in the Baths of Diocletian or at the Tiburtinian Gate. They must be crushed before they have time to reflect. Take three thousand of my Isaurians, and divide them, without attracting attention, round about the Baths, and, above all things, occupy the Tiburtinian Gate."
"But whence shall I withdraw the men?"
"From the Mausoleum of Hadrian," said Cethegus after a moment's reflection.
"And the Goths?"
"Bah! the Mausoleum is strong; it will protect itself, for the assaulters must first get over the river to the south, and then climb those smooth walls of Parian marble, in which the Greek and I take such pride. And besides," he added with a smile, "look up! There stands a host of marble gods and heroes; they may themselves protect their temple against the barbarians. Do you see? I told you it would be so. The Goths only think of attacking the Gate of St. Paul," he concluded, pointing towards the Gothic camp, whence, just at that moment, a strong division marched out in the direction he mentioned.
Licinius obeyed his orders, and soon led three thousand Isaurians--perhaps the half of the garrison of the Mausoleum--over the river and the Viminalian Hill in the direction of the Baths of Diocletian. He then replaced Belisarius's Armenians at the Tiburtinian Gate by three hundred Isaurians and legionaries.
But Cethegus turned to the Salarian Gate, where Constantinus now remained as the representative of Belisarius.
"I must have him out of the way," said Cethegus to himself, "when the news arrives.--When you have repulsed the barbarians," he said aloud to Constantinus, "no doubt you will make a sally. What an opportunity to gather laurels while your commander is yet at a distance!"
"Yes," said Constantinus, "they shall see that we can fight, even without Belisarius."
"But you must aim with more composure," said Cethegus, turning to a Persian archer and taking his bow. "Do you see that Goth, the leader on horseback? He shall fall."
Cethegus drew the bow. The Goth fell from his horse, pierced through the neck by the arrow.
"And you use my shooting-machines clumsily too! Do you see that oak-tree? A leader of one of the Gothic thousands is standing beneath it, clad in a coat of mail. Pay attention!"
He directed the machine; aimed and shot. The mailed Goth was pierced through and through, and nailed to the tree.
Just then a Saracen horseman rode quickly up below the wall.
"Archon," he cried to Constantinus, "Bessas begs for reinforcements for the Prænestinian Gate! The Goths are advancing."
Constantinus looked doubtfully at Cethegus.
"Pshaw!" said the latter; "the only attack to be feared will be made upon the Gate of St. Paul, and that is well defended, I am certain. Tell Bessas that he is scared too soon. Besides, I have six lions, ten tigers and twelve bears in the Vivarium waiting for the next feast at the Circus. Let them loose upon the barbarians for the present. It will afford a spectacle for the Romans."
But now one of the body-guard hurried up from Mons Pincius.
"Help, sir. Help, Constantinus! your own gate, the Flaminian, is in danger! Countless barbarians! Ursicinus begs for assistance!"
"There too?" asked Cethegus incredulously.
"Reinforcements for the broken walls between the Flaminian and the Pincian Gates!" cried a second messenger, also sent by Ursicinus.
"You need not defend that part. You know that it stands under the special protection of St. Peter; that will suffice," said Constantinus encouragingly.
Cethegus smiled.
"Yes, to-day most surely; for it will not be attacked at all."
"Prefect!" cried Marcus Licinius, who just then hurried up, out of breath; "quick to the Capitol! I have just come thence. All the seven camps of the enemy are vomiting Goths from every exit. A general storm is intended upon all the gates of Rome."
"That can hardly be," said Cethegus with a smile. "But I will go up. You, Marcus Licinius, will answer to me for the Tiburtinian Gate. Itmustbe mine. Away with you! Take your two hundred legionaries."
With these words he mounted his horse and rode towards the Capitol round the foot of the Viminalian Hill. There he met with Lucius Licinius and his Isaurians.
"General," said Lucius, "things look grave, very grave! What about the Isaurians? Do you persist in your order?"
"Have I retracted it?" said Cethegus severely. "Lucius, you and the other tribunes must follow me. Isaurians, you, under your chief, Asgares, will march between the Baths and the Tiburtinian Gate."
He did not believe there was danger for Rome. He thought he knew what the barbarians really intended at this moment.
"The feint of a general attack," he argued, "is only meant to prevent the Byzantines from thinking of the danger of their commander outside the walls."
He soon reached and ascended a tower of the Capitol, whence he could overlook the whole plain.
It was filled with Gothic weapons.
It was a splendid spectacle.
From all the gates of the encampment poured the Gothic troops, encircling the whole circumference of the city.
It was evident that the assault was intended to be carried on simultaneously against all the gates of Rome.
Foremost came the archers and slingers, in light groups of skirmishers, whose business it was to rid the ramparts of their defenders.
Then followed battering-rams and wall-breakers, taken from Roman arsenals or constructed on Roman models, though often clumsily enough; harnessed with horses and oxen and served by soldiers without weapons of attack, whose sole business it was to protect themselves and their teams against the projectiles of the enemy by means of their shields.
Close behind, in thick ranks and fully armed, furnished with battle-axes and strong knives for the hand-to-hand struggle, and dragging heavy ladders, came the warriors who were to undertake the assault.
These three separate lines of attack advanced steadily, in good order, and with an even step. The sun glittered upon their helmets; at intervals of equal lengths sounded the long-drawn summons of the Gothic horns.
"They have learned something of us," cried Cethegus, with a soldier's pride in the fine array. "The man who has ordered these ranks understands war."
"Who is it?" asked Kallistratos, who, in splendid armour, stood near Lucius Licinius.
"King Witichis, without doubt," answered Cethegus.
"I should not have thought that simple man, with his modest expression, capable of such generalship."
"These barbarians are often unfathomable," remarked Cethegus.
And now he rode away from the Capitol, over the river to the ramparts at the Pancratian Gate, where the first attack seemed to threaten.
There he ascended the corner tower with his followers.
"Who is the old man with the flowing beard, marching before his troop and carrying a stone axe? He looks as if the lightning of Zeus had missed him in the battle with the Titans."
"It is Theodoric's old master-at-arms; he marches against this gate," answered the Prefect.
"And who is the richly-accoutred man upon the brown charger, with the wolfs head upon his helmet? He is marching towards the Porta Portuensis."
"That is Duke Guntharis, the Wölfung," said Lucius Licinius.
"And see there, too, on the eastern side of the city, away over the river, as far as the eye can reach, the ranks of the enemy advance against all the gates," cried Piso.
"But where is the King himself!" asked Kallistratos.
"Look! there in the middle you see the Gothic standard. There he is, opposite the Pancratian Gate," answered the Prefect.
"He alone, with his strong division, stands motionless far behind the lines," said Salvius Julianus, the young jurist.
"Will he not join in the fight!" asked Massurius.
"It would be against his habit not to do so. But let us go down upon the ramparts; the fight begins," said Cethegus.
"Hildebrand has reached the trench."
"There stand my Byzantines, under Gregorius. The Gothic archers aim well. The ramparts become thinned. Massurius, bring up my Abasgian archers, and the best archers of the legions. They must aim at the oxen and horses of the battering-rams."
Very soon the battle was kindled upon all sides, and Cethegus remarked with rage that the Goths progressed everywhere.
The Byzantines seemed to miss their leader; they shot at random and fell back from the walls, against which the Goths pressed with unusual daring.
They had already crossed the trenches at many points, and Duke Guntharis had even erected ladders against the walls near the Portuensian Gate; while the old master-at-arms had dragged a strong battering-ram to the Pancratian Gate, and had caused it to be protected by a penthouse against the fiery darts from above.
Already the first strokes of the ram thundered through the uproar of the battle against the beams of the gate.
This well-known sound gave the Prefect a shock.
"It is evident," he said to himself, "that they are in good earnest."
Again a thundering stroke,
Gregorius, the Byzantine, looked at him inquiringly.
"This must not continue any longer," cried Cethegus angrily; and he tore a bow and quiver from an archer who stood near him, and hurried to the battlements over the gate.
"Here, archers and slingers! Follow me!" he cried. "Bring heavy stones. Where is the next balista? Where the scorpions? That penthouse must come down!"
But under it stood Gothic archers, who eagerly looked through the apertures at the pinnacles of the battlements.
"It is useless, Haduswinth," grumbled young Gunthamund; "for the third time I have aimed in vain. Not one of them will venture even his nose above the battlements."
"Patience!" answered the old man; "only keep thy bow ready bent. Some curious body will be sure to show himself. Lay a bow ready for me too, and have patience."
"Patience! That is easier for thee with thy seventy years, than for me with my twenty," grumbled Gunthamund.
Meanwhile Cethegus reached the wall over the gate, and cast a look across the plain.
There he saw the King standing motionless in the distance with his centre, upon the right bank of the Tiber.
This sight disturbed him.
"What does he intend? Has he learned that the commander-in-chief ought not to fight? Come, Gajus," he cried to a young archer, who had boldly followed him, "your young eyes are sharp. Look over the battlements. What is the King doing there?"
And he bent over the bulwarks. Gajus followed his example, and both looked out eagerly.
"Now, Gunthamund!" cried Haduswinth below.
Two strings twanged, and the two Romans started back.
Gajus fell, shot in the forehead; and an arrow fell rattling from the Prefect's helmet.
Cethegus passed his hand across his brow.
"You live, my general!" cried Piso, springing towards him.
"Yes, friend. It was well aimed, but the gods need me yet. Only the skin is scratched," said Cethegus, and set his helmet straight.