As soon as the Bishop had left the tent, Belisarius rose eagerly from his seat, hurried to the Prefect, and embraced him.
"Accept my thanks, Cethegus Cæsarius! Your reward will not be wanting. I will tell the Emperor that for him you have to-day saved Rome."
But Cethegus smiled.
"My acts reward themselves."
The intellectual struggle, the rapid alternation of anger, fear, anxiety, and triumph had exhausted the hero Belisarius more than half a day of battle. He longed for rest and refreshment, and dismissed his generals, none of whom left the tent without speaking a word of acknowledgment to the Prefect.
The latter saw that his superiority was felt by all, even by Belisarius. It pleased him that, in one and the same hour, he had ruined the scheming Bishop and humbled the proud Byzantines.
But he did not idly revel in the feeling of victory. He knew the danger of sleeping upon laurels; laurel stupefies.
He decided to follow up his victory, to use at once the intellectual superiority over the hero of Byzantium which he undoubtedly possessed at this moment, and to strike his long-prepared and principal blow.
As, full of this thought, he was looking after the generals who were just leaving the tent, he did not notice that two eyes were fixed upon him with a peculiar expression.
They were the eyes of Antonina.
The incidents which she had just witnessed had produced a strangely mixed impression on her mind. For the first time in her life she had seen her idol, her husband, entangled in the nets of a priest without the least power to extricate or help himself, and saved only by the superior strength of this terrible Roman.
At first the shock to her pride in her husband had filled her with dislike of the victor. But this feeling did not last, and involuntarily, as the great superiority of Cethegus unfolded itself before her, admiration took the place of vexation. She felt only one thing: Belisarius had eclipsed the Church, and Cethegus had eclipsed Belisarius. To this feeling was added the anxious desire that this man might never become the enemy, but always remain the ally of her husband.
In short, Cethegus had made a serious intellectual conquest of the wife of Belisarius; and not only that, but he was at once made aware of it.
The beautiful and usually so confident woman came towards him with downcast eyes. He looked up; she blushed violently and offered him a trembling hand.
"Prefect of Rome," she said, "Antonina thanks you. You have rendered great services to Belisarius and the Emperor. We will be good friends."
Procopius, who had remained in the tent, beheld this proceeding with astonishment.
"My Odysseus out-charms the sorceress Circe," he thought.
But Cethegus saw in a moment that the soul of Antonina humbled itself before him, and what power he thus gained over Belisarius.
"Beautifulmagistra militum," he said, drawing himself up, "your friendship is the proudest laurel in my wreath of victory. I will at once put it to the proof. I beg you and Procopius to be my witnesses, my allies, in the conversation which I must now hold with Belisarius."
"Now?" asked Belisarius impatiently. "Come, let us first to table, and celebrate the fall of the priest in fiery Cæcubian."
And he walked towards the door.
But Cethegus remained quietly standing in the middle of the tent, and Antonina and Procopius were so completely under his influence, that they did not dare to follow their master.
Even Belisarius turned and asked:
"Must it absolutely take place now?"
"It must," said Cethegus, and he took Antonina's hand and led her back to her seat.
Then Belisarius also retraced his steps.
"Well," he said, "speak; but briefly. As briefly as possible."
"I have ever found," began Cethegus, "that with great friends or great enemies, sincerity is the strongest bond and the best weapon. According to this maxim I will act. When I said my acts reward themselves, I wished to express thereby that I did not wrest the mastery of Rome from the false priest exactly for the sake of the Emperor."
Belisarius grew attentive.
Procopius, alarmed at the too bold sincerity of his friend, made a sign of warning.
Antonina's quick eye remarked it, and she started; the intelligence between the two men aroused her suspicion.
This did not escape Cethegus.
"No, Procopius," he said, to the astonishment of Belisarius; "our friends here will far too soon acknowledge that Cethegus is not a man whose ambition can be satisfied by a smile from Justinian. I have not saved Rome for the Emperor."
"For whom else!" asked Belisarius gravely.
"First for Rome herself. I am a Roman. I love my Eternal City. She shall not become the servant of the priests, but also not the slave of the Emperor. I am a republican," he said, tossing his head defiantly.
A smile passed across the countenance of Belisarius; the Prefect seemed to him of less importance than before.
Procopius, shrugging his shoulders, said:
"Incomprehensible!"
But this candour pleased Antonina.
"I certainly saw," continued Cethegus, "that we could only beat the barbarians by the sword of Belisarius. And also, alas! that the time is not ripe to realise my dreams of republican freedom. The Romans must first again become Catos; this generation must die out; and I acknowledge that, meantime, Rome can only find protection against the barbarians under the shield of Justinian. Therefore we will bow to this shield--for the present."
"Not bad!" thought Procopius; "the Emperor is to protect them until they are strong enough to run away from him, in proof of gratitude."
"These are but dreams, my Prefect," said Belisarius compassionately. "What practical results can they have?"
"These: that Rome shall not be delivered up to the caprice of the Emperor with bound hands and without conditions. Belisarius is not the only servant of Justinian. Only think, if the heartless Narses were to become your successor!" The hero frowned. "Therefore I will tell you the conditions under which the city of Cæsar will open her gates to you and your army."
But this was too much for Belisarius.
He sprang up in a rage; his face glowed; his eyes flashed.
"Prefect of Rome," he cried in his loudest voice, "you forget yourself and your position! To-morrow I start with my army of seventy thousand men for Rome. Who will hinder me from entering the city without conditions?"
"I," said Cethegus quietly. "No, Belisarius, I do not rave. Look at this plan of the city and its fortifications. Your experienced eye will recognise its strength better and more quickly than mine."
He drew forth a parchment and spread it open upon the table.
Belisarius cast an indifferent look at it, but immediately cried out:
"The plan is incorrect! Procopius, give me our plan out of that casket.--Look here, those moats are now filled up; those towers are ruined; the wall here is broken down, those gates defenceless.--Your plan represents them as of terrible strength. It is obsolete, Prefect of Rome!"
"No, Belisarius,yoursis obsolete. These walls, moats, and gates are reconstructed."
"Since when?"
"A year ago."
"By whom?"
"By me."
Belisarius looked at the plan in perplexity.
Antonina's eyes rested anxiously on the features of her husband.
"Prefect," he said at last, "if this be so, you understand warfare well--the warfare of fortresses. But to wage war there must be an army, and your empty walls will not arrest my progress."
"You will not find them empty. You must acknowledge that a force of more than twenty thousand men is capable of holding Rome--namely, this my Rome upon the plan--for days and years, even against Belisarius. Good. Then, know that these fortifications are held by thirty-five thousand armed men."
"Have the Goths returned?" asked Belisarius.
Procopius drew nearer, astonished.
"No; these thirty-five thousand men are under my command. For some years I have recalled the long enervated Romans to arms, and have unceasingly practised them in the use of their weapons. So at present I have thirty cohorts ready for battle, each consisting of almost a thousand men."
Belisarius struggled to repress his vexation, and shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
"I acknowledge," continued Cethegus, "that these troops could not oppose the army of Belisarius in the open field. But I assure you that they will fight famously behind these walls. Besides that, I have, out of my private means, enrolled seven thousand picked Isaurian and Abasgian mercenaries, and have brought them, gradually and unobserved, in small divisions to Ostia, Rome, and the neighbourhood. You doubt it? Here are the lists of the thirty cohorts, and the contract with the Isaurians. You now see distinctly how matters stand. Either you accept my conditions--and then these thirty-five thousands are yours: yours is Rome, my Rome, this Rome on the plan, of which you say that it is of fearful strength, and yours is Cethegus--or you refuse my conditions.--Then your victorious march, whose success depends on the rapidity of your movements, is arrested. You will be obliged to besiege Rome for many months. The Goths will have plenty of time to re-collect their forces. We ourselves will call them back. They will come to relieve the city in threefold superiority, and nothing can save you from destruction but a miracle!"
"Or your death at this moment! thou devil!" thundered Belisarius, and, no longer master of himself, he drew his sword.
"Up, Procopius, in the Emperor's name! Take the traitor! He dies in this hour!"
Horrified and undecided, Procopius rushed between the two men, while Antonina caught her husband's arm, and tried to take his right hand.
"Are you his allies!" cried Belisarius furiously.
"Guards! guards! here!"
From each of the two doors two lancers entered the tent.
But Belisarius had already torn himself from Antonina's hold, and had hurled Procopius to one side as if he were a child. Raising his sword, he rushed at the Prefect. But he suddenly stopped short and lowered his weapon, the point of which already touched the breast of Cethegus; for, immovable, like a statue, without the least change of countenance, and fixing his cold eyes penetratingly upon his furious assailer, Cethegus had remained standing, a smile of unspeakable contempt upon his lips.
"What means this look and smile?" asked Belisarius.
Procopius quietly signed to the guards to leave the tent.
"Pity for your reputation, which a moment of rage might destroy for ever. If you had killed me, you would have been lost!"
"I!" laughed Belisarius; "I should thinkyouwould have been lost."
"And you with me. Do you believe that I put my head into the lion's mouth like a fool? It was not difficult to foresee that a hero of your sort would first of all try to put an end to his embarrassment with his sword. Against this I have protected myself. Know that since this morning, in consequence of a sealed order which I left behind me, Rome is in the hands of my blindly-devoted friends. The Mausoleum of Hadrian, the Capitol, and all the gates and towers of the ramparts, are garrisoned by Isaurians and legionaries. I left the order with my war-tribunes, who are youths fearless of death, in case of your reaching Rome before me."
He handed a roll of papyrus to Procopius.
Procopius read: "To Lucius and Marcus, the Licinii, Cethegus the Prefect. I have fallen a victim to the tyranny of the Byzantines. Revenge me! Recall the Goths at once. I demand it of you by your oath. Better the barbarians than the police of Justinian. Hold out to the last man! Rather give the city to the flames than to the army of the tyrant!'"
"So you see," continued Cethegus, "that my death will not open to you the gates of Rome, but shut them upon you for ever. You must besiege the city, or agree with me."
Belisarius cast a look of anger, not unmixed with admiration, at the bold man who put conditions to him in the midst of his thousands.
Then he sheathed his sword, threw himself impatiently upon his stool, and asked:
"What are your conditions for the surrender?"
"Only two. First, you will give me the command of a small part of your army. I must be no stranger to your Byzantines."
"Granted. You will have under your command two thousand Illyrian footmen and one thousand Saracen and Moorish horsemen. Is that sufficient?"
"Perfectly. Secondly, my independence rests entirely upon my dominion of Rome. This must not cease during your presence. Therefore, the whole right shore of the Tiber, with the Mausoleum of Hadrian; and on the left the Capitol, including the walls on the south as far as the Gate of St. Peter, must remain, until the end of the war, in the hands of my Romans and Isaurians. The rest of the city on the left shore of the Tiber, from the Flavian Amphitheatre in the north to the Appian Gate in the south, will be occupied by you."
Belisarius cast a glance at the plan.
"Not badly arranged! From those points you can at any moment drive me out of the city or blockade the river. That will not do!"
"Then prepare for a fight with the Goths and Cethegus together before the walls of Rome!"
Belisarius sprang from his seat.
"Go! leave me alone with Procopius, Cethegus. Wait for my decision."
"Till to-morrow!" cried Cethegus. "At sunrise I return to Rome, either with your army or--alone."
A few days later Belisarius, with his army, entered the Eternal City through the Asinarian Gate.
Endless acclamation greeted the liberator; a rain of flowers covered him and his wife, who rode at his left hand on a beautiful palfrey.
All the houses were decorated with gay draperies and wreaths. Bat the object of these rejoicings did not appear happy; he gloomily bent his head, and cast dark looks at the walls and the Capitol, from which floated, not the dragon flags of Byzantium, but the banners and ensigns of the municipal legions, formed after the model of the Roman eagles and standards.
At the Asinarian Gate young Lucius Licinius had sent back the vanguard of the imperial army, and the heavy portcullis did not rise until, at the side of Belisarius on his bay horse, appeared Cethegus the Prefect, mounted on his splendid charger.
Lucius was astonished at the change which had taken place in his admired friend.
The Prefect's cold and severe reserve seemed to have disappeared; he looked taller, younger; the glory of victory illumined his features. He wore a richly-gilded helmet, from which the crimson mane flowed down to his mail-coat. This last was a costly work of art from Athens, and showed upon every one of its round plates a finely-worked relief in chased silver, each representing a victory of the Romans. The victorious expression of his beaming face, his proud carriage, and scintillating armour, outshone Belisarius, the imperial magister militum himself, and all his glittering staff, which, led by Johannes and Procopius, followed close behind.
And this superiority was so striking, that by the time the procession had passed through several streets, the impression was shared by the mob, and the cry, "Cethegus!" was soon heard more loudly and frequently than the name of "Belisarius!"
Antonina's fine ear soon began to remark this circumstance; she listened uneasily at every pause of the procession to the cries and remarks of the by-standers.
When they had left the Thermæ of Titus behind them, and had reached the Via Sacra, near the Flavian Amphitheatre, they were obliged to stop on account of the crowd. A narrow triumphal arch had been erected here, which could only be passed at a slow pace. "Victory, to the Emperor Justinian and his general, Belisarius," was inscribed thereon.
As Antonina was reading this inscription, she heard an old man, who appeared to be but scantily initiated into the course of events, questioning his son, one of the legionaries of Cethegus.
"Then, my Gazus, the gloomy man with the angry-looking face, on the bay horse----"
"Yes, that is Belisarius, as I told you."
"Indeed? Well--then the stately hero on his left hand, with the triumphant look--he on the charger, must be his master, the Emperor Justinian."
"Not at all, father.Hesits quietly in his golden palace at Byzantium and writes laws. No; that is Cethegus,ourCethegus,myCethegus, the Prefect, who gave me my sword. Yes, thatisa man! Lucius, my tribune, said lately, 'If he did not allow it, Belisarius would never see a Roman Gate from the inside.'"
Antonina gave her grey palfrey a smart stroke with her silver rod, and galloped quickly through the triumphal arch.
Cethegus accompanied the commander-in-chief and his wife to the Pincian Palace, which had been sumptuously prepared for their reception.
Then he took leave, in order to assist the Byzantine generals in quartering the troops, partly on the citizens; partly in the public buildings, and partly before the gates of the city in tents.
"When you have recovered from the fatigues and honours of the day, Belisarius, I shall expect you and Antonina, with your staff, at a banquet in my house," he had said before leaving them.
After some hours, Marcus Licinius, Piso, and Balbus appeared to fetch the invited guests.
They accompanied the litters in which Antonina and Belisarius were carried. The generals went on foot.
"Where does the Prefect live?" asked Belisarius, as he entered his litter.
"As long as you are here, by day in the Mausoleum of Hadrian, by night in the Capitol."
Belisarius started.
The little procession approached the Capitol.
The commander-in-chief saw with astonishment all the walls and works, which had lain in ruins for more than two centuries, restored to immense strength.
When they had wound their way through the long, dark, and zigzag passage which led into the fortress, they arrived at a massive iron door, which was fast shut, as if in time of war.
Marcus Licinius called to the sentinel.
"Give the watch-word!" cried a voice from within.
"Cæsar and Cethegus!" answered the war-tribune. Then the wings of the door sprang open; a long lane formed by Roman legionaries and Isaurian mercenaries became visible, the last clad in iron up to their very eyes, and armed with double-bladed battle-axes.
Lucius Licinius stood at the head of the Romans with drawn sword; Sandil, the Isaurian chief, at the head of his countrymen.
For one moment the Byzantines hesitated, overpowered by the impression of this display of granite and iron.
Suddenly the faintly-illumined space became bright with light, and, accompanied by torch-bearers and flute-players, without armour, a wreath upon his brow, such as was generally worn by the giver of a feast, and dressed in a magnificent indoor garment of purple silk, appeared Cethegus.
He came forward smiling, and said:
"Welcome! Let flutes and trumpets loudly proclaim that the happiest hour of my life has arrived--Belisarius ismyguest in the Capitol!"
And, amid a tremendous flourish of trumpets, he led his silent guests into the fortress.
During these occurrences among the Romans and Byzantines, decisive events were in preparation on the part of the Goths.
Duke Guntharis and Earl Arahad, leaving a small garrison behind them, and taking their Queen with them as prisoner, had left Florentia and gone, by forced marches to Ravenna.
If they could reach and win this fortress, which was considered impregnable, before Witichis, who pressed forward after them, they would be able to make any conditions with the King.
They had a capital start, and hoped that their enemies would be stopped for some time before Florentia. But they lost almost all the advantages of their start; for the towns and castles bordering the nearest road to Ravenna had declared for Witichis, and this circumstance obliged the rebels to take a circuitous route northwards to Bononia (Bologna), whose inhabitants had embraced their cause, and thence march eastwards to Ravenna.
Notwithstanding this delay, when they reached the marshy land surrounding that fortified city, and were only half a day's march from its gates, nothing could be seen of the King's army.
Guntharis allowed his greatly-fatigued troops to rest for the remainder of the day, which was already drawing to a close, and sent a small troop of horsemen under the command of his brother, to announce their arrival to the Goths in the fortress.
But at dawn the next day Earl Arahad came flying back into the camp with a greatly diminished troop.
"By the sword of God!" exclaimed Guntharis, "whence comest thou?"
"We come from Ravenna. We reached the outermost ramparts of the city and demanded admittance; but were roughly repulsed, although I showed myself and called for old Grippa the commander. He insolently declared that to-morrow we should learn the decision of the city; we, as well as the army of the King, whose vanguard is already approaching the city from the south-east."
"Impossible!" cried Guntharis angrily. "I could do nothing but withdraw, although I could not understand the behaviour of our friend. Besides, I held the report of the approach of the King to be an empty threat, until some of my horsemen, who were seeking for a dry place on which to bivouac, were suddenly attacked by a troop of the enemy under the command of Earl Teja, with the cry, 'Hail, King Witichis!' After a sharp combat they were worsted."
"Thou ravest!" cried Guntharis. "Have they wings? Has Florentia been blown away out of their path?"
"No! but I learned from Picentinian peasants that Witichis marched to Ravenna by the coast-road, past Auximum and Ariminum."
"And he left Florentia in his rear unconquered? He shall repent of that!"
"Florentia has fallen! He sent Hildebad against it, who took it by storm. He broke in the Gate of Mars with his own hand, the furious bull!"
Duke Guntharis listened to these evil tidings with a gloomy face; but he quickly came to a decision.
He at once set forth with all his troops, intending to take the city of Ravenna by surprise.
His attack failed.
But the rebels had the consolation of seeing that the fortress, whose possession would determine the result of the civil war, had at least refused to open its gates to the enemy.
The King had encamped to the south-east, before the harbour town of Classis.
Duke Guntharis's experienced eye soon perceived that the marshes on the north-west would also afford a secure position, and there he shortly afterwards pitched his well-protected camp.
So the rival parties, like two impetuous lovers of a coy maiden, pressed from opposite sides upon the royal residence, which seemed disinclined to lend an ear to either.
The day following two embassies, consisting of Ravennese and Goths, issued from the Gates of Honorius and of Theodoric, on the north-west and south-east, and brought to the camp of the rebels, as well as to that of the King, the fateful decision of the city.
This decision must have been a strange one.
For the two commanders, Guntharis and Witichis, kept it, in singular conformity, strictly secret, and took great care that not a word should become known to their troops.
The ambassadors were immediately conducted from the tents of the commanders of either camp to the very gates of the fortress, escorted by generals who forbade any communication with the troops.
And in other ways the effect of the embassy in both camps was singular enough.
In the rebel camp it led to a violent altercation between the two brothers, and afterwards to a very animated interview between Duke Guntharis and his fair prisoner, who, it was said, had only been saved from his rage by the intervention of Earl Arahad. Finally, the rebel camp sank into the repose of helpless indecision.
More important consequences ensued in the opposite camp. The first answer which King Witichis gave the embassy was the order for a general attack upon the city.
Hildebrand and Teja and the whole army received this order with astonishment. They had hoped that the strong fortress would voluntarily open its gates.
Contrary to all Gothic custom and his own usually frank manner, King Witichis imparted to no one, not even to his friends, the object of the embassy, or the reason of his angry attack.
Silently, but with doubting shakes of the head and little hope of success, the army prepared for the assault.
They were repulsed with great loss.
In vain the King urged his Goths again and again to storm the precipitous and rocky walls.
In vain he himself was the first, three several times, to climb the scaling-ladders. From early morning to sunset the assaulters stormed the place without making the least progress; the fortress well preserved its old reputation of invincibility.
And when at last the King, stunned by a stone, was carried out of the turmoil, Teja and Hildebrand ceased their efforts and led the weary troops back to the camp.
The temper of the army during the following night was very sad and depressed. They had to complain of great losses, and had now nothing but the conviction that the city could not be taken by force.
The Gothic garrison of Ravenna had fought side by side with the citizens on the walls. The King of the Goths lay encamped before his own residence, before the stronghold of his kingdom, in which he had hoped to find protection and the time to arm against Belisarius!
But the worst was, that the army laid the whole blame of the unhappy struggle and the necessity of civil war upon the King. Why had the negotiations with the city been so abruptly broken off? Why was not the cause of this breach, if it were a just one, made known to the troops? Why did the King shun the light?
The soldiers sat dejected by their watch-fires, or lay in their tents nursing their wounds and mending their weapons; no ancient heroic songs sounded, as usual, from the mess-tables of the camp; and when the leaders walked through the lanes of tents, they heard many a word of anger and vexation directed against the King.
Towards morning Hildebad arrived in the camp from Florentia with his thousands. He heard with indignation of the news of the bloody defeat, and wished to go at once to the King; but as the latter still lay unconscious under Hildebrand's care. Earl Teja took Hildebad into his tent to answer his impatient questions.
Some time after the old master-at-arms joined them; with such an expression on his features that Hildebad sprang affrighted from the bear-skin which served him for a couch, and even Teja asked hastily:
"How is the King? What of his wound? Is he dying?"
The old man shook his head sadly.
"No; but if I guess rightly, judging him by his honest heart, it would be far better for him to die."
"What meanest thou? What dost thou suspect?"
"Peace, peace," said Hildebrand sadly, and seating himself, "poor Witichis! it will be spoken of soon enough, I fear."
And he was silent.
"Well," said Teja, "how didst thou leave him?"
"The fever has left him, thanks to my herbs. He will be able to mount his horse to-morrow. But he spoke of strange things in his confused dreams--I hope that they are but dreams--else, woe to the faithful man!"
Nothing more could be got out of the taciturn old man.
Some hours after, Witichis sent for the three leaders. To their astonishment, they found him in full armour, although he was obliged, while standing, to support himself on his sword. On a table near him lay his crown-shaped helmet and a sceptre of white ivory, surmounted with a golden ball.
The friends were startled by the impaired look of his usually so composed, handsome, and manly features.
He must have gone through some fearful inward struggle. His sound, simple nature, which seemed to be all of one piece, could not endure the strife of doubtful duties and contradictory feelings.
"I have summoned you," he said with great effort, "to hear and support my decision in our grave position. How heavy have been our losses in this attack?"
"Three thousand dead," said Earl Teja, very gravely.
"And about six thousand wounded," added Hildebrand.
Witichis closed his eyes as if in pain. Then he said:
"It cannot be helped, Teja. Give at once the command for a second attack!"
"How! what!" cried the three leaders like one man.
"It cannot be helped," repeated the King. "How many thousands hast thou brought us, Hildebad?"
"Three; but they are dead tired from the march. They cannot fight to-day."
"Then we will storm alone again," said Witichis, taking his spear.
"King," said Teja, "we did not win a single stone of the fortress yesterday, and to-day we have nine thousand men less----"
"And those not wounded are faint, their weapons and their courage broken."
"Wemusthave Ravenna!" repeated Witichis.
"We shall never take it by force," said Earl Teja.
"We will see about that!" retorted Witichis.
"I besieged the city with the great King," said Hildebrand warningly. "He stormed it in vain seventy times. We only took it by starving it--after three years."
"We must attack!" cried Witichis. "Give the command."
Teja was about to leave the tent.
Hildebrand stopped him.
"Remain," he said; "we dare not hide it from him any longer. King! the Goths murmur. To-day they would not obey thee; the attack is impossible."
"Stand things so?" said Witichis bitterly. "The attack is impossible? Then only one thing remains: the course which I should have taken yesterday--then those three thousand would have been still living. Go, Hildebad, take that crown and sceptre! Go to the rebels' camp; lay them at the feet of young Arahad; tell him that he may woo Mataswintha; I and my army will greet him as our King."
And, so speaking, he threw himself exhausted upon his couch.
"Thou speakest feverishly again," cried Hildebrand.
"That is impossible!" cried Teja.
"Impossible!" repeated Witichis. "Everything is impossible? The fight impossible? and the renunciation? I tell thee, old man, there is nothing else to be done, after that message from Ravenna."
He ceased.
His three companions looked at each other significantly.
At last the old man said:
"What was that message? Perhaps an expedient may be found? Eight eyes see more than two."
"No," said Witichis, "not in this case. Here there is nothing to see, otherwise I would have asked your advice long since. But it could have led to nothing. There lies the parchment from Ravenna; but be silent before the army."
The old man took the roll and read:
"'The Gothic warriors and the citizens of Ravenna, to Earl Witichis of Fæsulæ----'"
"What insolence!" cried Hildebad.
"'And to Duke Guntharis of Florentia, and Earl Arahad of Asta. The Goths and the citizens of this city declare to the two armies encamped before their gates, that they, faithful to the distinguished House of Amelung, and remembering the benefits of the great King Theodoric, will firmly cling to his royal line as long as a scion of it lives. Therefore we acknowledge Mataswintha as sole mistress of the Goths and Italians; only to her will we open our gates, and we will defend them against any other to the utmost.'"
"What madness!" said Earl Teja.
"Incomprehensible!" cried Hildebad.
But Hildebrand folded the parchment and said:
"I understand it very well. As to the Goths, you must know that the garrison is formed of the followers of Theodoric, and these followers have sworn to him never to prefer a strange king to one of his line. I, too, swore this oath, but, in doing so, I ever thought of the spear and not of the spindle. It was this oath which obliged me to adhere to Theodahad, and only after his treachery was I free to do homage to Witichis. But old Earl Grippa, of Ravenna, and his companions, believe that they are equally bound to the females of the royal line. And, be sure of it, these grey-headed heroes--the oldest in the nation, and Theodoric's brothers-at-arms--will let themselves be hewn in pieces, man for man, rather than break that oath as they understand it. And, by Theodoric, they are right! But the Ravennese are not only grateful, they are cunning; they hope that Goths and Byzantines will fight out their affair before their walls. If Belisarius win--who, as he says, comes to avenge Amalaswintha--he cannot then be angry with the city which has remained faithful to her daughter; and if we win, then it was they who obliged the garrison to close their gates."
"However that may be," interposed the King, "you will now understand my silence. If the army knew the contents of that parchment, they might be discouraged, and go over to the rebels, who hold the Princess in their power. There remain to me only two courses: either to take the city by storm--and that we tried yesterday in vain--or, to yield. You say the first course cannot be repeated, so there only remains the last--to yield. Arahad may woo the Princess and wear the crown; I will be the first to do him homage and protect the kingdom, in concert with his brave brother."
"Never!" cried Hildebad. "Thou art our King, and shall remain so. Never will I bow my head to that young coxcomb! Let us march to-morrow against the rebels; I alone will drive them out of their camp, and carry the royal child--at the touch of whose hands those fast-shut gates will fly open as if by magic--intoourtents."
"And when we have her," asked Earl Teja, "what then? She is of no use to us if we do not make her our Queen. Wilt thou do so? Hast thou not had enough with Amalaswintha and Gothelindis? Once more the rule of a woman?"
"God forbid!" laughed Hildebad.
"I think so too," said the King, "otherwise I should have taken this course long since."
"Well, then, let us remain here and wait until the city is wearied out."
"It is impossible." said Witichis, "we cannot wait. In a few days Belisarius may descend from yonder mountains and conquer us, Duke Guntharis, and the city; then the kingdom and people of the Goths are lost for ever! There are only two ways--to storm--"
"Impossible!' said Hildebrand.
"Or to yield. Go, Teja, take the crown. I see no other expedient."
The two young men hesitated.
Then old Hildebrand, with a sad and earnest and loving look at the King, said:
"I know of another course to take; a painful, but the only one. Thou must take this course, my Witichis, even if thy heart should break."
Witichis looked at him inquiringly. Even Teja and Hildebad were struck by the tender manner of the old man.
"Go out," continued Hildebrand, turning to Hildebad and Teja. "I must speak to the King alone."
Silently the two Goths left the tent, and walked up and down, awaiting the result.
From the tent they now and then heard Hildebrand's voice, who appeared to warn and argue with the King; and now and then an outcry from the latter.
"What can the old man be thinking of?" asked Hildebad, stopping in his walk. "Dost thou not know?"
"I guess," sighed Teja; "poor Witichis!"
"What the devil dost thou mean?"
"Let me alone," said Teja; "it will all come out soon enough."
A considerable time elapsed thus. Ever more violent and more full of pain sounded the voice of the King, who seemed to defend himself desperately against Hildebrand's arguments.
"Why does the greybeard so torture the brave hero?" cried Hildebad angrily. "It is just as if he would murder him! I will go in and help him!"
But Teja held him fast by the shoulder.
"Remain!" he cried, "he cannot be helped."
As Hildebad was struggling to get loose, the noise of voices was heard from the other end of the lane of tents; two sentries were trying in vain to stop a strong Goth, who, covered with all the signs of a long and hard ride, tried to get to the King's tent.
"Let me go, good friend," he cried, "or I will strike thee down!"
And he threateningly lifted a heavy club.
"It cannot be. Thou must wait. The leaders are with him in his tent."
"And if all the gods of Walhalla, together with the Lord Christ, were in his tent, I must go to him!"
"I know that voice," cried Earl Teja, advancing, "and the man. Wachis! what seekest thou here?"
"Oh, master!" cried the faithful servant, "happy am I to find you. Tell these good folks to let me loose, then I need not knock them down."
"Let him loose, or he will keep his word. I know him. Well, what wouldest thou then with the King?"
"Pray lead me to him at once. I have sad and terrible news to tell him of his wife and child."
"Wife and child?" asked Hildebad in astonishment. "What, has he a wife?"
"Very few know it," answered Teja. "She has scarcely ever left their estate, and has never been to court. Scarcely any one knows her, but all who do, honour her highly. I know no one like her."
"There you are right, master, if ever any one was!" said Wachis in a suffocated voice. "The poor, poor mother! and, alas, the poor father! But let me go. Mistress Rauthgundis follows close behind. I must prepare him."
Earl Teja, without more questioning, pushed the man into the tent, and followed with Hildebad.
They found old Hildebrand sitting calmly, like inevitable fate itself, upon the King's couch, his chin resting on his hand, and his hand upon his stone battle-axe.
Thus he sat immovable, fixing his eyes upon the King, who, in the greatest excitement, was pacing to und fro with rapid steps, and so absorbed in the terrible conflict of his soul, that he did not remark those who entered.
"No, no; never!" he cried, "it is cruel! criminal! impossible!"
"It must be," said Hildebrand, without moving.
"No, I say!" cried the King; and turned.
Wachis was standing close before him.
Witichis looked at him wildly; then the servant threw himself at his feet, weeping loudly.
"Wachis!" cried the King, in terror; "what is it? Thou comest from her? Stand up--what has happened?"
"Alas! master," cried Wachis, still kneeling, "it breaks my heart to see you! I could not help it. I have repaid and avenged with all my might!"
Witichis pulled him up to his feet by the shoulders.
"Speak, man! What is there to revenge? My wife----"
"She lives, she is coming; but your child!"
"My child!" cried Witichis, turning pale, "Athalwin? What of him?"
"Dead, master--murdered!"
A cry as of one wounded to death broke from the tortured father's lips. He covered his face with both hands; Teja and Hildebad stepped forward compassionately. Only Hildebrand remained motionless, and looked fixedly at the group.
Wachis could not bear the long and painful pause; he tried to take his master's hands. They fell of their own accord; two great tears rolled down the hero's brown cheeks; he was not ashamed of them.
"Murdered!" he cried, "my innocent child! By the Romans?" he asked.
"The cowardly devils!" cried Hildebad.
Teja clenched his fist, and his lips worked silently.
"Calpurnius?" asked Witichis, looking at Wachis.
"Yes, Calpurnius. The report of your election had reached the estate, and your wife and child were summoned to the camp. How young Athalwin rejoiced that he was now a King's son, like Siegfried who killed the dragon! He said he would soon go to seek adventures, and also kill dragons and giants. Just then our neighbour returned from Rome. I noticed that he looked gloomy and more envious than ever, and I watched well over house and stalls. But to watch the child--who could have thought that children were no longer safe!"
Witichis shook his head sadly.
"The boy could hardly wait until he should see his father in the camp, and all the thousands of Gothic warriors, and battles close at hand. He threw away his wooden sword directly, and said a King's son must wear a steel one, especially in time of war. And I was obliged to find a hunting-knife, and sharpen it into the bargain. And with this famous sword he escaped from Mistress Rauthgundis early every morning. And when she asked, 'Whither?' he laughed, 'To seek adventures!' and sprang into the woods. Then he came home at noon, tired out and with torn clothes; wild with merriment and exultation. But he would not tell us anything, and only hinted that he had played at being Siegfried. But when I found spots of blood upon his sword, I crept after him into the woods. It was exactly as I suspected. I had once shown him a hole in some steep and rugged rocks, which hung over a running brook, and warned him that there lay poisonous vipers by dozens. At that time he had questioned me about everything, and when I said that every bite was deadly, and that a poor berry-gatherer, who had been bitten by a snake in her naked foot, had died immediately, he drew his wooden sword in a minute, and wanted to jump into the hole. Much frightened, I with difficulty kept him back. And now I remembered the vipers, and trembled because I had given him a steel weapon. I soon found him in the wood in the middle of the rocks, down among the thorns and brushwood. He was just taking out a tremendous wooden shield which he had made for himself and hidden there. A crown was freshly painted upon it. And he drew his sword and sprang with a joyous cry into the hole. I looked round. There lay strewn about dozens of the big snakes, with shattered heads, the victims of his former battles. I followed the boy, and though I was so anxious, I could not bear to disturb him as he stood there fighting like a hero! He drove a swelling viper from her hole with stones; she erected herself with hissing tongue, but just as she darted at him, he threw his great shield before him and cut her in two with a mighty stroke. Then I called him, and scolded him well. But he looked very brave, bold, and disobedient, and cried, 'Do not tell my mother, for I shall still do it. Until the last dragon is dead!' I said I would take his sword away. Then I will fight with the wooden one, if that please thee better,' he cried. 'And what a shame for a King's son!' For the next few days I took him with me to catch the horses in the uncultivated pastures. That pleased him very much; and shortly, I thought, we shall go away. But one morning he escaped me again, and I went alone to my work. I returned along the brook, sure that I should find him among the rocks. But I did not find him. I found only the belt of his sword lying torn on the thorns and his shield broken on the ground. I looked round alarmed, and sought, but----"
"Quicker, go on!" cried the King.
"But?" asked Hildebad.
"But there was nothing else to be seen on the rocks. Then I noticed the large footprints of a man in some soft sand. I followed them. They led to a place where the rock fell steeply to the brook. I looked over, and below----"
Witichis staggered.
"Alas! my poor master! There on the shore of the brook lay the little figure! How I got down the rocks, I know not. I was below in an instant. There he lay, cut and torn by the points of the rocks, his little hand still holding fast his sword, his bright hair covered with blood---"
"Cease!" cried Teja, laying his hand upon the man's shoulder, while Hildebad grasped the poor father's hand, who sank groaning upon his couch.
"My child, my sweet child! my wife!" he cried.
"I felt that the little heart still beat," continued Wachis; "water from the brook brought him to his senses. He opened his eyes and recognised me. 'Thou hast fallen down, my poor child?' I asked. 'No,' he said, 'not fallen. I was thrown down.' I was horrified. 'Calpurnius,' he went on, 'suddenly came round the corner of the rocks, as I was striking at the vipers. "Come with me," he said, "or I will bind thee." "Bind me!" I cried, "my father is King of the Goths, and thine also. Dare to touch me!" Then he got angry and struck at me with his stick and came nearer; but I knew that near me our servants were felling trees, and I cried for help and retreated to the edge of the rock. He looked about him in terror, for the people must have heard me; the strokes of their axes ceased. But suddenly he sprang forward, cried, "Die, little viper!" and pushed me over the rock.'"
Teja bit his lips.
"Oh, the devil!" cried Hildebad.
And Witichis, with a cry of pain, tore his hand from Hildebad's grasp.
"Cut it short," said Teja.
"He lost his senses again," Wachis continued; "I carried him in my arms home to his mother. Once again he opened his eyes while lying on her lap. A greeting to you was his last breath."
"And my wife? Is she not desperate?"
"No, master; that she is not. She is of gold, but also of steel. When the boy had closed his eyes, she silently pointed out of the window to the right. I understood her. There stood the neighbour's house. And I armed all your servants and led them there to take revenge. We laid the murdered boy on your shield and bore him in our midst. And Rauthgundis went with us, a sword in her hand, following the corpse. We laid the boy down before the gates of the villa. Calpurnius had fled on his swiftest horse to Belisarius. But his brother and his son and twenty slaves stood in the courtyard. They were just about to mount and follow him. We uplifted the cry of murder three times. Then we attacked them. We killed themall,all, and burnt the house down over the inhabitants. Meantime Rauthgundis looked on without a word, keeping watch by the little corpse and leaning on her sword; and the next day she sent me on beforehand to tell you. Shortly after, as soon as she had burnt the little corpse, she followed me. And as I have lost a day, being hindered by the rebels from taking the shortest road, she may arrive at any hour."'
"My child, my child! my poor wife! This is the first produce of this unhappy crown! And now," he cried to the old man, with all the impetuosity of pain, "wilt thou still demand that cruel sacrifice? that unbearable sacrifice?"
Hildebrand slowly rose.
"Nothing is unbearable that is necessary. Winter is bearable, and age, and death. They come, and we bear it. Because we must. But I hear the voices of women, and rustling garments. Let us go."
Witichis turned from him to the door.
There, under the lifted curtain of the tent, stood Rauthgundis, his wife, dressed in grey garments and a black veil, and pressing a small black urn to her bosom.
A cry of loving pain and painful love; and the husband and wife were locked in a close embrace.
Silently the witnesses left the tent.